This book is DUE on the last date stamped below I Southern branch, iiNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, LIBRARY, >1-DS ANGELES, CALJF. FRESHMAN RHETORIC BY JOHN ROTH WELL SLATER, Ph.D. PROFESSOR OF RHETORIC AND ENGLISH LITERATURE IN THE UNIVERSITY OF ROCHESTER REVISED 46623 D. C. HEATH & CO., PUBLISHERS BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO Copyright 1913 and 1922 By D. C. heath & CO. 2i2 i' ' .' t" ' r ' t . . < ', < PRINTED IN U. S. A. PREFACE The first seven chapters of this book have been completely rewritten, and the remainder thoroughly revised, so that it is in efifect a new work. The most important changes are as follows: '^ I. Whereas the first edition was originally designed to be ►.^ used with a companion text-book combining a review of grammar and correction of common errors, and was later issued with a supplementary English Drill Course, partly meeting this need, the present edition embodies in Chapters I, III, and V, and in the Glossary of Common Errors at the end of the book, sufficient material for this elementary review. 2. Particular attention is directed to the constructive exer- cises in sentence and paragraph writing upon assigned topics in Chapters III and V, which, alternated with freer work in con- nected exposition (Chapters II and IV), have been found to yield good results in combining discipline with spontaneity. «^.,The program is so planned as to avoid long unbroken stretches of necessary but monotonous drill. 3. A larger amount of illustrative specimens of expository paragraphs quoted from standard writers has been introduced into Chapter V. 4. The chapter on the library has been carefully revised to bring it up to date and to make it a more complete guide to elementary library research. 5. In order to allow more time for the elementary review during the first six weeks, chapters on study, recitation, and note taking have been omitted, and the oral work has been reduced. Some teachers, burdened with large sections, find no time for iii iv PREFACE oral work in the regular course in composition. The present text is equally adaptable to courses with or without oral work. What there is can readily be omitted; and on the other hand much more can be added, especially during the study of argu- mentation, if time and circumstances permit. 6. The Suggested Assignments at the close of each chapter take the place of the calendar of assignments based on the earlier edition and printed as a supplementary pamphlet for teachers. These ninety assignments allow a margin of two weeks in the second semester for other exercises. The work is so timed as to complete the first long essay (Chapter VII) early in December and to finish the brief study of argumentation before the mid- year examinations. Obviously the program so outlined can be altered to any extent or ignored entirely. Its purpose is merely to indicate one way in which a well-balanced course in composi- tion can be planned without imposing undue congestion of work upon the teacher or the class. The Glossary of Common Errors is not included in the suggested assignments, for the reason that it is perhaps best to take up errors as they arise. 7. The Synopsis, bringing together all the 271 numbered section titles, may be convenient for both teacher and class in using the section numbers in theme correction. A practical, definite program for a year's work in composi- tion, rather than a theoretical discussion of rhetorical refinements, has been the purpose of the Freshman Rhetoric from the start. It is hoped that this revised edition may increase the success which has already attended this attempt to lighten the burdens and diminish the unprofitable labors of teachers and students of English composition in their difficult endeavor. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I Can You Make Yourself Understood? . . i II Explaining a Simple Subject i6 III Good Sentences 41 IV Exposition of Principles and Opinions . 64 V Good Paragraphs 81 VI How TO Use a Reference Library . . 108 VII Exposition Based on Reading .... 149 VIII Speeches for Special Occasions . . . .168 IX Letter Writing 175 X Colloquial English 189 XI Argumentation 205 XII Words 252 XIII The Interpretation of Literature . . .291 XIV Description 301 XV The Short Story 322 XVI Historical and Biographical Narration . 338 XVII College Journalism 347 XVIII Progress and Prospect 360 Appendix Glossary of Common Errors 365 Words Commonly Mispronounced . . . 380 Spelling Rules . . . . . . . 384 Words Commonly Misspelled 384 V SYNOPSIS CHAPTER I. CAN YOU MAKE YOURSELF UNDERSTOOD? SECTION PAGE 1. Language is an attempt at communication 1 2. The relation of correctness to clearness 2 3. Clearness and correctness can be attained by all 5 4. Language is an expression of personality 6 5. Writing an autobiography 7 6. Neat and legible manuscript 10 7. Titles 11 8. Dates 12 9. Numbers 12 10. Capitalization 12 11. Abbreviation 13 12. Alterations in copy 13 13. Indication of paragraphs 14 14. Spelling 14 15. Revision is indispensable 14 CHAPTER IL EXPLAINING A SIMPLE SUBJECT 16. Exposition of a simple subject 16 17. Why should I write this? 19 18. For whom shall I write? 19 19. What have I to say? 20 20. Four steps in outline-making: mental inventory, division, arrangement, development 21 21. The mental inventory 21 22. The division 26 23. The arrangement 28 24. The development 29 25. The form of the outline 31 26. The outline promotes unity, coherence, and emphasis. . . 32 27. Paragraphing 33 28. Condensed outlines for oral exposition 34 29. Suggestions for oral exposition . 37 30. Natural gesture 38 31. Criticism of oral expositions 39 vii viii SYNOPSIS CHAPTER III. GOOD SENTENCES SECTION PACE 32. Good sentences are not accidental but deliberate .... 41 33. Sentences and clauses distinguished 42 34. Sentences and phrases distinguished 44 35. Simple and compound sentences distinguished 45 36. Compound sentence must have unity: the comma fault 45 37. Clauses of compound sentence must be co-ordinate in mean- ing 46 38. The so sentence 47 39. Punctuation of the compound sentence 48 40. Complex sentence has clauses of unequal rank 48 41. Dependent clause is a noun, adjective, or adverb .... 49 42. Punctuation of complex sentence 50 43. Punctuation of descriptive and restrictive clauses 50 44. Commas before and after appositive phrase 50 45. Commas before and after a parenthetical expression ... 51 46. Comma separating last members of series 51 47. Comma to set oil participial phrase 51 48. Use no unnecessary commas 51 49. Four incorrect commas 52 50. Exercise in the syntax and punctuation of the sentence . . 52 51. Compound sentence with complex clauses 54 52. Complex sentence with compound clauses 55 53. Parallel structure 57 54. Exercise in sentence-building 58 55. Sentences should begin and end strongly 60 56. Rearrangement often improves coherence 61 57. Exercise in rearrangement of sentences for emphasis and coherence 62 58. Exercise in criticism of sentence structure in newspaper English 62 CHAPTER IV. EXPOSITION OF PRINCIPLES AND OPINIONS 59. Exposition of more advanced subjects 64 60. Subjects for exposition of principles and opinions .... 64 61. Exposition, not argument, is the aim 66 62. The mental inventory still useful 67 63. Eliminating irrelevant and commonplace matter 75 64. Beginning by correcting an erroneous or incomplete view . 76 65. Divisions depend on the audience 77 66. Five principles of good exposition 79 SYNOPSIS • ix CHAPTER V. GOOD PARAGRAPHS SECTION PAGE 67. The paragraph, not the sentence, is the unit of connected discourse 81 68. A good expository paragraph has usually at least five or six sentences 82 69. One-sentence paragraphs are sometimes desirable .... 83 70. Paragraph development means unfolding the ideas implied in, or suggested by, the topic sentence 84 71. A paragraph may be developed by illustration, compari- son or contrast, causes, results, reasons, inferences ... 85 72. Examples of paragraph development 86 73. Exercise in paragraph development 93 74. Detached single paragraphs are used in editorial writing, in written examinations, and in other ways 94 75. Coherence within the paragraph requires orderly arrange- ment 94 76. Coherence within the paragraph requires suitable connective words and phrases 95 77. Emphasis in the paragraph depends largely on arrangement 96 78. Exercise on coherence and emphasis in paragraphs .... 99 79. Variety of sentence form helps to make good paragraphs . 100 80. Loose sentences 100 81. Periodic sentences 101 82. Balanced sentences 103 83. Exercise in variety of sentence form 104 84. Final exercise in paragraph development 105 CHAPTER VI. HOW TO USE A REFERENCE LIBRARY 85. The use of a library must be learned by practice .... 108 86. Library regulations must be observed 108 87. General reference books are the first tools for research . . 109 88. Dictionaries 109 89. General encyclopedias Ill 90. Special encyclopedias 115 91. Biographical dictionaries 116 92. Yearbooks 117 93. Atlases and gazetteers 119 94. How to find other books 120 95. The card catalogue 120 96. Library classification 125 97. Correct form for a select bibliography 129 98. Selecting the best books 130 X SYNOPSIS SECTION PAGE 99. Guide-books to the best books 132 100. Public documents 134 101. Library of Congress bibliographies 135 102. Indexes to periodicals 135 103. Relative value of periodicals 138 104. Correct form for a select bibliography of periodical references 139 105. Distribution of time in reading 141 106. How to take library notes 141 107. Thou shalt not steal 144 CHAPTER VII. EXPOSITION BASED ON READING 108. Clearness, interest, and force make a good essay 149 109. "Why should anybody read this?" 150 110. Exposition is more than compilation 151 111. Library notes take the place of the mental inventory . . 152 112. Narrowing down the subject 153 113. Obvious divisions not always the best 155 114. Introduction and conclusion 156 115. Making the outline for a long essay 158 116. Paragraphing in relation to the outline 159 117. Writing the essay 162 118. Self-criticism in English composition 163 CHAPTER VIII. SPEECHES FOR SPECIAL OCCASIONS 119. Public speaking outside the classroom 168 120. Speeches mingle exposition, argument, and persuasion . . 109 121. The after-dinner speech 170 122. The nominating speech 171 123. The congratulatory speech 172 124. The anniversary speech 172 125. The eulogistic speech 173 126. Delivery of the speeches 173 CHAPTER IX. LETTER-WRITING 127. Correct form in business letters 175 128. The salutation in letters to professional men 176 129. Style in business letters 176 130. Good arrangement of material 177 131. Avoidance of stereotyped phrases 181 132. Exercise in business letter-writing ." 182 133. Formal social notes 185 134. Friendly letters 187 SYNOPSIS xi CHAPTER X. COLLOQUIAL ENGLISH SECTION PAGE 135. Contractions in colloquial English 189 136. Shall and will, should and would 190 137. The disappearing subjunctive mood 192 138. Potential auxiliaries in colloquial English 193 139. Syntax of the colloquial sentence 194 140. Common errors in grammatical agreement 197 141. Agreement in sentences containing the phrase one of (he . 198 142. Errors in the use of conjunctions 199 143. Errors in the use of prepositions 200 144. Diction 201 145. Slang 201 146. Conversation 202 147. Avoid talking shop 203 148. Conversation in novels 204 CHAPTER XI. ARGUMENTATION 149. Argumentation is exposition under fire 205 150. Questions of fact and questions of opinion 206 151. Analyzing a question to find the issues 208 152. Stating the question 209 153. Defining the terms 212 154. Comparing the contentions of the two sides 214 155. Excluding irrelevant points 217 156. Enumerating points of agreement 218 157. Stating points waived 219 158. Stating the issues 221 159. Steps in analysis recapitulated 222 160. Proof 224 161. The burden of proof 225 162. Evidence and reasoning 227 163. Evidence of persons and evidence of things 228 164. Tests of evidence 228 165. Opinions are not proof 230 166. Reasoning is defending one proposition by another . . . 232 167. Two kinds of reasoning: inductive and deductive .... 236 168. Proof arises from the analysis 237 169. Direct proof and refutation 240 170. The structure of proof 241 171. Supporting the main propositions 243 172. The complete brief 245 173. Writing the brief 246 174. Common fallacies 247 xii SYNOPSIS CHAPTER XII. WORDS SECTION PAGE 175. The relation of structure to style 252 176. The means of winning interest 254 177. Good style in the general sense 254 178. Style largely a matter of specific words 256 179. The life-history of words 256 180. Good usage 257 181. Etymology 258 182. English a Germanic language 259 183. Words enter the language by descent, borrowing, or in- vention 260 184. The subtle influence of derivation on words 261 185. The history of robbery traced in words 261 186. The art of writing traced in words 263 187. The curious relationships of words revealed by etymology 265 188. Word-formation in English 267 189. Latin words common in English compounds 268 190. Greek words common in English compounds 271 191. Usage as affecting the meaning of words 274 192. Definition 275 193. Synonyms 277 194. Words as conveying force and beauty 278 195. Denotation and connotation 279 196. The study of synonyms 281 197. Exercise in the discrimination of synonyms 282 198. Antonyms 284 199. Doublets 284 200. Strong words 285 201. Overworked words 286 202. Enlarging one's vocabulary 287 CHAPTER XIII. THE INTERPRETATION OF LITERATURE 203. Writing about books 291 204. The imaginary audience 292 205. The harmless pretense of discovery 292 206. The three questions to be answered 293 207. Interpretation in the light of the age 294 208. Interpretation in the light of the author's life 294 209. Interpretation in the light of literary tendencies 295 210. Interpretation in the light of the author's aim 295 211. Summary of the story merely incidental 295 SYNOPSIS xiii SECTION PAGE 212. Is the book well written? 296 213. Historical significance 297 214. The final question of personal appeal 298 215. The interpretation of literature to oneself 298 CHAPTER XIV. DESCRIPTION 216. Two kinds of description 301 217. Literary description aims to communicate feeling .... 302 218. Based on observation, imagination, and sympathy .... 302 219. The reader's memory supplemented by imagination . . . 304 220. Selection of significant details 305 221. Thin 's described in terms of persons 306 222. Persons described in terms of characteristic traits .... 306 223. Motion in description 307 224. Color-words 308 225. Taste and touch in description 309 226. Sounds in description 309 227. The magical smell-words 310 228. Avoid words of incongruous connotation 311 229. Seek words of appropriate connotation 313 230. A defense of deliberate search for words in description . . 314 231. Words few but choice 315 232. Descriptive writing usually implies a story 316 233. Exercises in description 317 CHAPTER XV. THE SHORT STORY 234. Short stories the most popular form of literature .... 322 235. Story-telling gives training in choice of words 322 236. Characteristics of good oral story-telling 323 237. The study of the short story 324 238. Writing original stories 326 239. A climax essential 330 240. Beginnings 330 241. Omit unnecessary details 330 242. Unity in the narrative paragraph 331 243. Coherence in narration implicit rather than explicit . . . 332 244. Emphasis in narration 332 245. The point of view in narration 333 246. The supposed narrator 334 247. The revision of the story 335 xiv SYNOPSIS CHAPTER XVI. HISTORICAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL NARRATION SECTION PAGE 248. The historical imagination 338 249. Exposition in history 339 2.50. Description in history 339 251. English history studied in composition assignments .... 340 252. Biography as the interpretation of personality 342 CHAPTER XVII. COLLEGE JOURNALISM 253. News writing and editorial writing are important for student s 347 254. Many kinds of narrative are really news writing 347 255. Principles of news writing applicable to business and pro- fessional reports 348 256. Economy of attention 349 257. The storv thrice told 349 258. The head 350 259. The lead 351 260. The body 351 261. Details in order of decreasing importance 351 262. Avoid weak conclusions 352 263. Avoid illogical arrangement 353 264. Study of actual newspaper stories 354 265. College life yields few big stories 354 266. Athletic reporting 355 267. Feature stories 356 268. Interviews 357 269. Editorial writing 358 CHAPTER XVIII. PROGRESS AND PROSPECT 270. Taking account of stock 360 271. The trial balance sheet 361 Glossary of Common Errors in Syntax and Diction . 365 Words Commonly Mispronounced 380 Spelling Rules 384 Words Commonly Misspelled 384 Index 387 FRESHMAN RHETORIC CHAPTER I CAN YOU MAKE YOURSELF UNDERSTOOD? 1. Language is an attempt at communication. To be under- stood is the first test of good speaking and good writing. This means not merely the desire to be understood, but the degree in which understanding is actually accomplished. He who speaks or writes well is generally understood. Language is primarily articulate soimd which conveys thought from one mind to another. It is an attempt at communication. If the attempt fails, because of poor voice, defective articulation, false syntax, or misuse of words, the speaker alone is responsible. If it fails because of the partial deafness, the inattention, or the ignorance of the hearer, the speaker may be blameless, but he has failed nevertheless; for to be misunderstood, whatever the cause, is to fail. In other words, language in its earliest and principal use is purely social; it is not merely the expression of the speaker's thought but the impression of that thought upon the hearer's mind. It would be well for students of rhetoric to hold all their work up to this test: to inquire, in all cases of imperfect trans- mission of their thought, whether there be not a fault in the transmitter rather than in the receiver. To speak clearly is to be understood by all normal hearers who are willing to listen. The same test may be applied to the later and more artificial form of language which appears as writing. If the speech- 2 FRESHMAN RHETORIC sounds come to be represented by conventional signs called letters, designed to convey thought to the brain by the eye rather than by the ear, then anything that retards the transla- tion of letters into thought is a barrier, a fault, a want of clear- ness. Poor spelling, defective punctuation, careless handwriting, even pale ink, things formal and unimportant in themselves, become vital when they block the way from mind to mind. They are like defective electric wiring? a loose screw or an un- soldered joint may simply break the circuit and stop the machine or may cause a short circuit that will burn the house down. Bad English is like that; it may either simply fail to produce any effect whatever — because people will not take the trouble to read it — or it may short-circuit somebody's inflammable temper and lead to a fire-alarm. Now it is plain that when a man is speaking to his brother he may talk as carelessly as he pleases and still be understood. Memoranda which he writes for his own exclusive use may be scribbled and scrawled, without fear that he cannot read them. Almost any hint of words will give the clew. The tones in which one rehearses formulas or definitions in order to memorize them, the penmanship of one's diary, are not communication at all; they involve no other person, and are of no consequence to the world. They are of consequence to him who uses them, how- ever, because careless speaking or writing even in solitude tends to weaken good habits and form bad ones. Therefore in all discussions of good speaking and writing we may safely disregard these exceptional private uses of language and deal with it as having always a social aim. That aim is to place A's thought in B's mind. 2. The relation of correctness to clearness. This transfer of A's thought to B's mind can be best managed by strict obedience to logic and to custom: to logic, in those rules of syntax and para- grai)h structure which depend on the laws of clear and correct thinking; to custom, in all matters of spelling, pronunciation, CAN YOU MAKE YOURSELF UNDERSTOOD ? 3 punctuation, capitalization, and other formal details, as well as in the values of words and the irregularities of inflection. Clear- ness, then, involves two kinds of correctness: correctness of thinking and correctness of form. The one is permanent, the other transient; the one endures from age to age, the other changes like the fashions of building or of dress. Both are equally important for the learner, because slovenly disregard for good form may do as much to alienate and repel the reader, and so to prevent successful communication of thought, as careless thinking may interfere with adequate understanding. It is a mistake, therefore, to underrate the importance of formal cor- rectness in such matters as spelling and punctuation on the ground that the substance is all that really matters. A gentle- man may now and then find himself with a dirty collar on ; but he will be embarrassed when he discovers it, and will change it as soon as he can. We do not blame a poor man for wearing a threadbare coat, but we see no reason why it should be muddy very long after he has had access to a brush. Sometimes, it is true, clearness is achieved without correctness. An illiterate foreman addressing a gang of laborers may speak with great vigor, perfect clearness, and shocking incorrectness. He has achieved communication; but he has offended the ear and fractured the parts of speech. A letter may be so quaintly misspelled as to afford indulgent amusement to the educated reader. For such violations of correctness an immigrant or an unlettered laborer is freely pardoned, because his Ufe has fur- nished no better models. When, on the other hand, young men and young women on whom society has bestowed twelve years of costly education attempt to substitute for the English lan- guage a slovenly jargon and illegible script, they need not expect equal consideration. A college student too lazy to say "yes," preferring the abominable "yeah" or "eh-yuh" of current speech, is in no danger of being misunderstood; he communicates his assent, also perhaps a degree of imbecility beyond his immediate 4 FRESHMAN RHETORIC intention. A phrase phonetically indicated thus: "Whatcha- gonadoboutit?" is easily interpreted by any American to mean "What are you going to do about it?" The lack is not one of clearness. "Listen," says a college girl at the beginning of every remark to her classmate. She is clear enough: she demands by the crude imperative an attention which she might not otherwise receive. The implied discourtesy escapes her; it does not escape those possibly too intolerant hearers who judge her rather severely by her shrill voice and her crudities of speech. To speak correctly, without affected precision and \nthout self- consciousness, is a form of good manners. Americans are perhaps no greater offenders against the integrity of spoken English than are the people of Great Britain. If we may judge by the clipped speech and the abundant slang of young Englishmen and English women, met with either in person or in recent English novels and plays, they take as great liberties with the language as any of us. But to foreigners from other parts of the world it is a matter for unending bewilderment that so few educated speakers of English seem to try to speak it as well as they can. A careless, negligent ease seems to be the effect aimed at, and generally attained. Only after some exper- ience of Hfe does one realize that many successful men are respected not because of, but in spite of, their slipshod talk. It is not in itself a proof either of sincerity or of intelligence. Correctness in wTitten English rests upon a somewhat different basis. Some excuse for errors in spelling and grammar is sought by some defenders of incompetence in the inconsistencies and arbitrary distinctions of the English language. It is a queer language in some ways; that must be admitted. But if in some points correctness means following an irrational custom of the race, it is still the business of learners to conform. A freshman who does not know the dilTerence between to and too in his own \\Titing may be overjoyed to learn that there was originally no distinction — that they are historically the same word. He may CAN YOU MAKE YOURSELF UNDERSTOOD ? 5 think to excuse his confusion of the aiLxiliaries shall and -will when he discovers that the present usage is not older than the seventeenth century, and that American indifference to the niceties of the accepted rules is perhaps destined to change the usage once more. But in all these and many other matters upon which usage shifts, slowly and not always logically, there is no ground for present uncertainty. That which is now regarded as standard English is always discoverable in the latest dictionaries and grammars. It may change, either for the better or for the worse — and language degenerates more easOy than it improves. But it is no business of ours to drag it do\vn. Those who would command must first obey. Those who would learn to use the mother tongue with freedom and with power, bending it to meet the demands of advancing thought, must begin by using it with decent respect. The language has its rights. It is ours to use, not to abuse; it rewards familiarity, but not contempt. 3. Clearness and correctness can be attained by all. Any normal person vAth. a good high school education can master in one year, if he has not already mastered, reasonable clearness and correctness in language. To this statement there are no excep- tions. It is true that not all freshmen can learn all there is for freshmen to know about writing English. Language has far more difficult problems than mere clearness and correctness. To speak or write so as to win interest, sympathy, conviction, delight, is to practice a fine art. Attainment here is a matter of degree. All may achieve by reasonable efifort some success in this art of using words to communicate pleasure as well as vmder- standing. Those least gifted with imagination may improve surprisingly under proper guidance. Yet it is only fair to admit that in any group of students there are some who ^-ill never go far along this path. Their talents lie elsewhere than in using language to convey feeling, to interest and to inspire. But these artistic aspects of English composition are not prominent in a required elementary course like this; they hardly appear in 6 FRESHMAN RHETORIC the earlier part of the term, and at no time are indispensable to respectable and creditable work in the course. Therefore no student can honestly start out with the feeling, "This is not in my line; I never could write wxll; English was always hard for me." The required assignments of freshman composition call • less for talent than for industry and intelligence. The course is intended not to train professional writers but to develop in all a reasonable efficiency in that use of the mother tongue which is indispensable in any business or profession. All need it; all can attain it in some degree; all will come to value it in proportion as they strive for it. 4. Language is an expression of personality. Effective com- munication of one's thought by means of clearness and. correct- ness in language is dependent in no small degree upon person- ality. The way in which we write and speak shows what we are. The previous history of the %vriter or speaker limits and shapes all his powers of expression; and nowhere is this limitation more evident than in freshman composition. It is only fair to a freshman that his teacher should know at the outset who and what he is; what have been his special advantages or disadvan- tages for the study of English; what are his chief interests and ambitions. Neither in mathematics, nor in chemistry, nor in beginning the study of a foreign language, does it make the slightest difference — ^provided that entrance requirements have been fully met — whether he comes from the farm or the city; whether his father is a merchant, a physician, or a mechanic; whether he has grown up among books, or among comic sup])le- ments and moving picture theaters. In rhetoric it does make a great deal of difference. Both in the matter and in the manner of his writing — what he has to say and how he tends to say it — previous experience and training count for much. A fresh- man has only himself to blame if he lets the months pass while silently resenting the misplaced criticisms of an instructor who does not know why he is what he is. He has his chance at the CAN YOU MAKE YOURSELF UNDERSTOOD ? 7 very start, in the fullest sense of the phrase, to make himself understood. 5. Writing an autobiography. An autobiography, therefore, is a good subject for the first piece of written work. Of the three questions that always arise when one sits down to write, WHY SHOULD I WRITE THIS? WHAT HAVE I TO SAY? HOW SHALL I SAY IT? the first has already been answered. It was answered on the basis of purpose • — the purpose of informing the teacher, who really wants to know, as to who you are and why you have come to college. The second question is likewise to be answered on the basis of purpose. What does the teacher, who in this case is likely to be the only reader, need to know about your history? The purpose of a piece of writing or of a speech is always to be discovered by considering the special needs and interests of the probable reader or audience. Let us see how this works out in the case of an autobiography to be handed in at the second meeting of a freshman class in composition. What should such a sketch contain? In other words, what does the teacher prob- ably need to know in order to get accjuainted with his class — a sort of "Who's Who, and Why?" We may first rule out some things that many writers think of first when an autobiography is suggested. The instructor will not be interested in an introductory paragraph apologizing for the apparent egotism of writing about yourself; for he has asked you to do just that thing. He will not care to wade through your more or less successful attempts at a humorous description of your infancy and tender years. Humor is all very well in its way, but this particular theme is not the place for it, because it will waste time and space that should be given to more important matters. What he wants is facts. What sort of facts? Such as these: 8 FRESHMAN RHETORIC I. Early life: 1. When and where were you born? 2. What is, or was, your father's occupation? 3. What primary and grammar schools did you attend? 4. Were there any severe illnesses, family changes, or other important events which determined your early Ufe? n. High school training: 5. In what high school, or schools, did you prepare for college? 6. Which subjects did you find easiest, which hardest? 7. To what extent did you enter into high school athletics, journalism, debating, dramatics, musical clubs? 8. Were there any long interruptions or unusual changes in your high school course, due to Ulness, removal from one place to another, or other causes? (Any physical handicap, such as partial deaf- ness, extreme nearsightedness, or stammering, should be men- tioned here or under 4.) m. Personal experience outside the school : 9. How have you spent yoiu: recent summers? 10. What wage-earning work have you done? 11. Have you ever traveled more than a hundred miles from home? If so, where? 12.. Have you any hobby or specialty (apart from athletics), such as collecting, bird study, electrical experiments, music? IV. Reading : 13. Do you often read books, aside from those required in connection with your studies? What sort of books do you like best? What books, aside from school requirements, have you read during the past two years? 14. Who are your favorite novelists? 15. Do you care for poetry? What poetry do you like best? 16. Do you read a daily newspaper regularly? What paper do you prefer? 17. What weekly or monthly periodicals do you regularly or frequently read? V. Purpose in entering college: 18. What occupation do you expect to enter, or to what do you at present incline? 19. What course shall you pursue in college, with what probable speciahzation? Why have you chosen it? CAN YOU MAKE YOURSELF UNDERSTOOD ? 9 20. Why did you choose this college or university, rather than another? Was any alumnus or undergraduate of this institution instru- mental in determining your choice? How long do you plan- , to stay? What do you think this college stands for? Given the answer to the first two questions • — "Why should I write this? What have I to say?" — you have still to deter- mine "How shall I say it?" The answer is, sayit as brieflyas possible without loss of clearness and interest. There is to be no waste of words, but on the other hand no obscurity or dull- ness due to excessive brevity. It is not like filling in answers to printed questions on a blank form ; an autobiography made up of detached statements like those written on a questionnaire or application blank would be neither clear nor interesting. The purpose of presenting these twenty questions is not to prescribe a theme made up of twenty sentences answering them by rote; rather it is to show how many biographical details there are, even in an uneventful career of seventeen or eighteen years, that may be interesting to tell and to read about. Some hberty of choice among the topics here suggested is to be expected ; some may be omitted, others added; some passed over in a word or two, others expanded when they seem to need fuller treatment. Liberty of arrangement into paragraphs is also expected. Five paragraphs may be too many or too few for the material at hand: too many, if all there is to say about the first eight ques- tions can be readily combined into a short paragraph; too few, if, for example, exceptional circumstances demand a whole paragraph for question 8, or 10, or 11. Let the material deter- mine the paragraphing, remembering that a paragraph is a unified group of sentences. This principle will also require the tying together of the sentences in some sort of coherence. If coherence requires, the material may be differently arranged; or connecting links may be suppHed to show how one thing has led to another. Attention to these suggestions for arrangement and grouping lo FRESHMAN RHETORIC wdll partly answer the question "How shall I say it?" But in addition to these, formal correctness in the manuscript, that is, correctness of appearance, correctness in matters that appear to the eye, is of importance from the very beginning. Certain points of formal correctness which should be observed in this first theme, and in all subsequent themes of the year, are men- tioned in the remaining paragraphs of this chapter, "Can you make yourself understood?" is the subject of the chapter; and to make oneself understood as a careful and competent person by careful and competent writing is now the problem. 6. Neat and legible manuscript. The generally accepted size of paper for most written or tyj^ewritten material of every sort except personal letters is either eight by ten and one-half inches, or eight and one-half by eleven inches. One or the other of these sizes should be used in all college essays and reports except when otherwise directed. Only one side of the paper should be written on. A margin of at least an inch should be left at each side of the page. All pages after the first should be numbered at the top. The theme should be folded vertically in the center, and on the outside of the last sheet near the top should be endorsed the number of the course, the letter of the section, the writer's name, and the date. Handwriting should be the best of which the wTiter is capable ; and a student incapable of writing a hand that is easily and rapidly read should buy or rent a t>^ewriter. The commonest causes of illegibility, apart from carelessness and haste, are pale ink and overcrowding of words and lines. A space of at least an eighth of an inch between words — three-sixteenths or more if one writes a large hand — is necessary for easy reading. Half an inch between sentences is not too much. If unruled paper is used, the lines of writing should be exactly parallel to the top edge of the sheet, and far enough apart so that the loop letters of consecutive lines will not overlap. The letters should be roimded, rather than angular. The slope should be slight, as CAN YOU MAKE YOURSELF UNDERSTOOD? ii nearly vertical as convenient. Capitals should be readily dis- tinguishable from small letters. In all these matters the student should seek to save time and trouble — not for himself, as he has perhaps been accustomed to do — but for the person who will have to read what he writes. It is a fact that of two essays of equal merit in substance one of which is typewritten, or very clearly written by hand, and the other written in a cramped, oblique hand with pale iiik, the former will nearly always re- ceive the more favorable consideration; and there is no reason why this should not be so. Legibility is the first essential in effective written communication. It cannot be regarded as a gift of nature, hke the color of one's hair or the shape of one's nose. Even at college age, a notably bad penmanship can be improved by intelligent effort. 7. Titles. Every composition longer than a single paragraph should have a title. The first word of a title and all the impor- tant words in it should be capitalized; that is, the nouns, pro- nouns, verbs, adjectives, adverbs, but not (excepting the first word of the title) articles, prepositions, or conjunctions. No period is used after a title standing at the head of a composition, nor should quotation marks inclose it when standing in that position. Example: Who I Am and Why I Came to College When, however, the title of an essay, a chapter in a book, or any short composition appears in connected discourse as part of a sentence, it is quoted; but not otherwise. Book titles and the names of magazines and newspapers are generally italicized in book printing, the equivalent for which in manuscript is under- lining . Examples : Our first assignment was an essay on "Who I Am and Why I Came to CoUege." We studied "Sweetness and Light" in Matthew Arnold's Culture and Anarchy. The article, which originally appeared in the Atlantic Monthly, has been 12 FRESHMAN RHETORIC quoted in many leading newspapers such as the New York Times and the Chicago Tribune. 8. Dates. The date of a year should always be expressed in figures, not in words (1918, not "nineteen hundred and eighteen," nor "nineteen eighteen"), except in legal documents and formal social notes and announcements. The day of the month should also usually be expressed in figures, without accompanying letters such as -t/i, -st (March 14, April i, July 3, rather than March 14th, April ist, July 3d). When, however, the number of the day appears before the name of the month, or without the month, the form may be either "the 14th of March" or "the fourteenth of March." Example: I was graduated from high school on June 20, 1922, and on the 25th of the same month we sailed for Europe. 9. Numbers. Except in writing dates and sums of money, numbers under one hundred should ordinarily be spelled out. "It is forty-two miles from here." "I am nineteen years old." For numbers over one hundred, figures are generally used ("The distance is 143 miles"), except for round numbers in even hun- dreds or thousands which can be expressed by two or three words. ("They have over eight hundred students.") Sums of money less than a dollar are usually spelled out, except in adver- tising and in business letters. Larger sums are usually expressed in figures with the dollar sign, except a round number stated as an estimate. ("It cost $3.75 last winter." "His salary must be as much as three thousand.") Sums in even dollars without cents should have no decimal point or ciphers after the last significant figure. ("He is earning $35 a week.") 10. Capitalization. Proper nouns should be capitalized. A proper noun is the name of a particular person, place, organiza- tion, or historic event. In a proper name of two or more words, such as Mississippi River, Washington Street, General Electric Company, all the nouns and adjectives are generally capitalized CAN YOU MAKE YOURSELF UNDERSTOOD ? 13 in book and magazine printing. In newspaper style the last word in each of the three phrases above cited would begin with a small letter. This style does not prevail in ordinary writing; only in "copy" intended for newspaper pubUcation. Capitals are also used for adjectives derived from proper nouns, such as the names of languages. Except in a title or in beginning a sentence, common nouns should not be capitalized. Such words as freshman, sophomore, high school, are common nouns and should begin with small letters. On the other hand, Senior Class is a proper noun; Johnstown High School is a proper noun. The names of studies, or branches of learning, such as chemistry, history, economics, rhetoric, occupying a peculiar grammatical position, are not now generally capitalized (the names of lan- guages, Latin, English, French, derived from proper adjectives, being nevertheless always capitalized). The title of a college course, however, like History i. Chemistry 5, is a proper noun and is therefore capitalized. 11. Abbreviation. No abbreviations should ordinarily be used in college compositions or in personal letters except Mr., Mrs., Dr., and academic titles such as M.D., LL.D. It is preferable not to abbreviate the names of months or states. The recognized abbreviations of a particular science or profession may be used in technical writing, such as A.C. for alternating current, c.c. for cubic centimeters, etc. Words like president, professor, secretary, company, should be spelled out. Even in business letters the present tendency is to use few abbreviations except for technical business phrases. 12. Alterations in copy. Words inserted after a page is copied should be written above the line, with a caret indicating the place where they belong. An inserted passage more than a line in length, however, should not be run over to the next line or to the margin; the page should be recopied. A word or a short phrase all on one line may be transposed from one place to another by drawing a loop around it, connected by a line with 14 FRESHMAN RHETORIC a caret at the point of insertion; but a longer phrase cannot usually be so transposed without confusion. To indicate the omission of a word or phrase a horizontal line should be drawn through it; it is incorrect to use parentheses for this purpose. 13. Indication of paragraphs. The first word of a paragraph should be indented. No blank space at the end of a line should be left after any sentence in a paragraph but the last. In the revision of copy a paragraph division not indicated by indention may be marked, without recopying, by the paragraph sign ^. An incorrect indention may be corrected by writing "no para- graph" in the margin. 14. Spelling. Errors in spelling, whether due to inadvertence or to ignorance, disfigure any manuscript, delay the reader, and give an impression of incompetence. English spelling is con- fessedly illogical, and somewhat difficult for those to whom correctness is not a sort of second nature. But in most cases the habitual errors of any one writer are comparatively few, and may be eliminated by systematic attention. The spelling rules and the list of words commonly misspelled, found in the appendix to this book, together with the use of a dictionary, should enable any student to remove from his written work a weakness so trivial, and yet so disastrous a hindrance to success in composi- tion. 15. Revision is indispensable. To submit to another person for reading a composition which the writer has not taken the trouble to read is little short of an insult. Some business men have used in their correspondence a rubber stamp reading "Dictated but not read." Seldom indeed will the person who receives a letter so labeled be favorably impressed. Revision means the careful reading over of the composition (i) for the correction of inadvertent omissions and repetitions of words; (2) for the correction of all errors in spelling, punctuation, and syntax which the writer can himself detect; (3) for such improve- ments in the choice and order of the words as time permits. CAN YOU MAKE YOURSELF UNDERSTOOD? 15 Even if in some special case it is impracticable to cover the third point named, it is inexcusable to omit the first two. To put one's name on any original composition, whether an English theme, a paper for some other class, or an examination book, ought always to mean, not "There may be some slips in this which I could correct if I chose to take the trouble," but "This is the best that I can do." Suggested Assignment Assignment i. Read Chapter I, and write an autobiographical sketch based upon the questions in section 5. Revise the first draft for capitahza- tion, expression of dates, and other points mentioned in sections 7-1 1, as well as for spelling and punctuation, and copy it for presentation to the instructor. CHAPTER II EXPLAINING A SIMPLE SUBJECT 16. Exposition of a simple subject. Simple material, simply presented on the basis of a suggested outline, as in the auto- biography, leads naturally to a second step, namely, an exposi- tion, or explanation, of a subject for which the writer makes his own outline. For such a study in the method of analyzing and outlining a subject it is desirable that thoroughly familiar material should be employed, but material in the arrangement of which some variety is possible. A list of suitable subjects follows, from which the student may choose one with which he is already sufficiently acquainted to explain it clearly and with interest. For this assignment no one should select a subject with the intention of "reading it up;" indeed, no reading should be done in preparation for this particular theme — only thinking. Subjects for Simple Exposition 1. Planning a Small Summer Cottage for Economy and Comfort 2. Advantages of the Bungalow T>'pe for Suburban Residences 3. The Ideal Living Room 4. A Model Kitchen 5. The Lighting of Residences 6. Building a Fireplace 7. Comparison of Heating by Steam, Hot Water, and Hot Air for Resi- dences 8. Sanitary Precautions in the Village Home 9. Principles of Color Harmony in Home Decoration and Furnishing 10. Choosing an Oriental Rug 11. The Proper Framing and Hanging of Pictures 12. Effective Planting of a Small City Lot 13. Simplifying Housework 16 EXPLAINING A SIMPLE SUBJECT 17 14. Labor-saving Devices for the Housekeeper 15. Different Types of Vacuum Cleaners 16. Cooking with Gas and with Coal 17. Fireless Cookers and How to Use Them 18. Planning Meals for Economy and Nutrition 19. Vegetarian Cooking 20. New Methods of Home Canning for Fruit and Vegetables 21. Chemistry in the Kitchen 22. The Warfare against Dust 23. The Care of a Piano 24. The Problem of Domestic Service 25. Vacant Lot Gardening 26. Spraying Fruit 27. The Best-Paying Variety of Apples 28. Developing a Young Orchard 29. Essentials of a Model Dairy 30. Is There Much Profit in Poultry? 31. High Freight Rates and the Farmer 32. The Importance of Good Roads to the Farmer 33. Simple Cement Work on the Farm 34. Farm Drainage 35. How to Keep Farm Accounts 36. Dry Farming 37. Intensive Farming 37. Uses of Dynamite on the Farm 39. The Timber Lot 40. What the Experiment Stations are Doing for the Farmer 41. The Farm Labor Problem 42. Insectivorous Birds and the Farmer 43. Does it Pay to Keep Sheep? 44. Abandoned Farms 45. Scientific Farming as a Career for College Men 46. Comparison of the Leading Tj-pewriters 47. Comparison of the Mimeograph and the Multigraph for Business or School Use 48. A Small Job Printing Outfit and How to Use It 49. Explanation of the Lintoype 50. Explanation of the Monotype 51. Paper-Making 52. High-Grade Photographic Lenses and Shutters and Their Value 53. Artistic Portrait Photography i8 FRESHMAN RHETORIC 54. The Photostat Process 55. The Half -Tone Process 56. The Zinc-Etching Process 57. Lathe Work 58. A Stamping Factory 59. The Work of a Foundry 60. A Blast Furnace 61. Modem Ship-Building 62. Road-Building 63. The Care of a Motor Car 64. Carburetion and Carburetors 65. Different Types of Transmission Gear 66. Care and Recharging of Storage Batteries 67. The Wiring System of a Motor Car 68. Automobile Touring 69. Airplane Motors 70. The Care of a Motor Boat 71. Sailing a Boat 72. Camping Outfits 73. Trout Fishing 74. Duck Shooting 75. Teaching a Boy to Swim 76. Training for Distance Running 77. The Equipment and Management of a Small Playground 78. First Aid to the Injured 79. Keeping Fit 80. Colds and How to Avoid Them 81. Corrective Gymnastics 82. Sensible Dress for Students 83. The Importance of Pure Drinking Water 84. The ImpKjrtance of Pure Milk 85. Avoidance of Common Infections 86. The Ventilation of School Buildings 87. Outdoor Sleeping 88. Desirable Residence Districts in This City 89. How Can Our City be Beautified? 90. Good Citizenship for College Students 91. Housing Conditions in This City 92. Vocational Guidance 93. Social Welfare Work in Local Factories 94. The Duties of a Department Store Salesman 95 96 97 98 99 lOO, EXPLAINING A SIMPLE SUBJECT 19 Effective Advertising of a Certain Class of Goods Present Status of the Boy Scout Movement The Work of the Local Y. M. C. A. (or Y. W. C. A.) The Student Volunteer Movement The Improvement of Sunday School Teaching The Importance of Good English in a Certain Vocation (for engineers, for chemists, for physicians, etc.) 1 7. Why should I write this? In this list of a hundred sub- jects there are at least a few on which any student has some special knowledge, or has ideas more clearly defined and more firmly held than the majority of the class. An opportunity now arises to tell something worth while to people who are ready to learn. This is the first motive for good work: to use material derived from your own experience in order to contribute to the common stock of information for the common good. The other motive, which holds good whether the exposition is actually communicated to the class or not, is to show yourself and to show your teacher that you are competent to explain a familiar topic in a thoroughly clear, correct, and interesting way. 18. For whom shall I write? In order to succeed in both of these aims, it will be necessary in choosing a subject to con- sider the particular sort of reader or audience to whom it is to be presented. The reader is to be thought of as an intelligent person who knows something about the subject, but not much. One will not undertake to explain the care of a motor-car to a person who has never seen the inside of one, but to the son of a man who has recently purchased his first car. Camping out- fits will be discussed for the benefit of the inexperienced camper. Model kitchens will be described to people who have worked in kitchens that are not models. A blast furnace or a linotype machine is to be explained to those who know merely that the finished product of the one is pig-iron, and of the other a metal type-slug or "line o' type" cast from a row of matrices. On the other hand, something more than the most elementary 20 FRESHMAN RHETORIC and obvious information is necessary for an interesting essay on such a subject as "The Importance of Pure Drinking Water;" for every one knows in general that pure drinking water is important, that impure water causes disease. In this case, because a few broad principles about drinking water are known to everybody, the writer must have specific knowledge as to the particular diseases most often caused by impure water. He must know not only the usual causes of contamination but also how they can be avoided. He must know somewhat accurately the sources of supply of a good water system, and of a bad water system with which it may be contrasted. Thus the assumed knowledge and interests of the reader govern the choice of material and the method of explanation. Any newspaper reader knows that some of the articles which appear in print on "hints to motorists," "planting the garden," and similar subjects take too little for granted, and others far too much. Some are so excessively elementary that they become ridiculous; others assume knowledge which the ordinary reader does not possess. Almost any booklet of directions issued by manufacturers for the operation of a machine illustrates both these opposite errors: explaining the obvious, and passing over the obscure or ambig- uous features of the process. To avoid both these faults, to explain clearly without "writing down" to the level of the reader, is one of our principal objects in planning this exposition. 19. What have I to say? Having chosen a subject on which he has some special knowledge, and having decided for what kind of reader he will undertake to explain it, the writer's next task is to collect suitable material. This material, collected in the present instance wholly from his own mind, he will tlien have to arrange in some orderly form before he can begin the actual writing of the composition. In other words, he must have an outline. The making of an outline, either mental or written, is indispensable for any kind of wiiting or speaking. For the autobiography the equivalent of an outline was provided EXPLAINING A SIMPLE SUBJECT 21 by the list of questions. In this case no such help can be given, because every subject needs a different kind of outline, depend- ing on the writer's conception of it and of the needs of the reader. 20. Four steps in outline-making: mental inventory, divi- sion, arrangement, development. No good outline can be written without first analyzing the subject and experimenting with different methods of treating it. The process may be con- veniently divided into four steps: (i) A mental inventory, or preliminary list of the contents of the mind bearing in any way on the subject; a large number of points written down without much regard for order or relative importance, solely as a basis for selection; (2) A division of the subject into three, four, or five main parts; (3) An arrangement of points chosen from the inventory on the basis of the division; (4) A development of these points into complete sentences, by adding to the subjects suitable predicates. 21. The mental inventory. Our first answer to the question "What have I to say?" is likely to be confused and incomplete. Hence it is helpful, especially for inexperienced writers, to write down rapidly all the ideas that come into the mind when the subject is considered. The arrangement does not matter much at this stage; the order, if one writes rapidly, will be that of more or less accidental association of ideas. Let us take a sub- ject and see how this and the following steps in outline-making work out in practice. Suppose the subject is "Learning to Use a Typewriter." On a large sheet of scratch paper, with a soft, sharp pencil, we begin to set down quickly whatever comes into the mind bearing in any way on the subject. When the supply of ideas seems temporarily to be near exhaustion, we look hard at the topic last written, or one higher up on the page, concen- trating on it until some new point emerges. As a further 22 FRESHMAN RHETORIC stimulus to thought we ask, over and over again, these six ques- tions: Who? What? When? Where ? How? Why? The result may look something like the right-hand column of the list below — the left-hand column being the mentally framed questions to which the written memoranda are the answers : Learning to Use a Typewriter Who should leam? What would they use it for? Why should students write themes on a typewriter? Why do teachers like it? Why should students leam typewriting, apart from that reason? WTiat other reason? How can a student leam it? How can they learn without joining a class? How else? When can they practice, with all the rest of the things they have to do? What machine should they use? If none is already available, what then? Where can one buy a second-hand type- writer? Where else? Students — typewriting useful in college. Themes, notes, reports, etc. Most teachers prefer type-written work. Because it saves their time. Gives good practice in spelling and punctuation. Can earn money by typewriting. Can leam without instruction. Study instruction book furnished by manufacturers. By practice. Can practice at odd times, a few minutes a day. Get practice in copying themes, etc. Any machine, if already available. Can rent for $3 or $^ a month. Can buy a second-hand machine. Typewriter agents always have used machines for sale. Typewriter exchanges in the larger cities specialize in used machines. EXPLAINING A SIMPLE SUBJECT 23 Where else? When is it safe to buy at second-hand? When else? What does a used typewriter cost? How old a machine is it safe to buy? What modern features? What else? When is it better to buy new? How much does a new one cost? What models besides regular models? What else? What kind of new machines can be had for $50? Why is a portable typewriter desirable? When is portable not so good? What are the principal kinds of type- writers? How else divided? What kind is best? What is the right way to learn? What is the touch system? Why should one learn touch system? Why else? Who uses touch system? Why does not everybody use it? Why else? Watch the "For Sale" advertise- ments. A little used machine, carefully handled by some acquaintance. A machine rebuilt at the factory. Costs ^20 to ^50. Not desirable to get a discontinued model or one lacking certain modem features. Visible writing. Universal keyboard. Can buy new typewriter on instal- ments. Regular models $50 to $100. Wide carriages for special work. Special type for technical writing. Some light folding portable ma- chines. Portable machines handy for stu- dents, can be carried to and from home. Portable not so suitable for heavy ofl&ce work. Divided into type-bar machines and shuttle machines. Double-shift and single-shift. Opinions differ as to merits. Either kind good if you learn right. Many advocate touch system. Fixed position of hands, a certain finger always used for a given key, practice without looking at keyboard. Uses all the fingers, saves time. Can watch copy constantly. Many professional typists use it. Hard to learn after one has begun without right fingering. More errors likely in touch system except when used by experts. 24 FRESHMAN RHETORIC What is right fingering? Why is fingering important? What speed is expected? How does one acquire speed? What sort of exercises? How else can one acquire speed? WTiat is the principal hindrance to speed? Why should fast writing waste time? How can one avoid errors? What is the first step in learning to use a typewriter? How does one begin? What is there to learn about placing paper? What else? How wide should the margins be? WTiat about right-hand margin? How can you keep right margin even? What is the next thing? What should be the space between lines? When should line be ended? When necessary to break words at end of line, where should the division come? Fingering chart given in instruc- tion book. Important for speed. Beginner should soon write forty or fifty words a minute. Exercises for speed. Alphabetic sentences using all the letters of the alphabet. Memorized passages written over and o\'er against time. Fast writing means many errors and so may waste time. Takes as much time to erase an error neatly as to write a line. Should not write faster than one can write accurately. First thing to learn is general mechanism of machine, shifts, levers, etc. Look in instruction book and see how to insert paper. Paper should be placed straight. Margins. Left-hand margin one to two inches. Right-hand margin as even as pos- sible, and at least an inch wide. Set margin stop and don't run past more than a letter or two. Learn to use line-spacer. Double space for most kinds of writing; single space often used for letters, with wide margins, double space between para- graphs. End line without dividing words when possible. Words ne\'cr divided except be- tween syllables, EXPLAINING A SIMPLE SUBJECT 25 How can one tell what the syllables are? Why should one use a dictionary? Why else should one use a dictionary? Why take time to look up spelling? Use dictionary for syllables. Can't guess at syllables. Use dictionary for spelling. Takes more time to correct errors than to get things right in first place. Error discovered before line is finished is easily erased and cor- rected. Must use scale and guides in order to get sheet back in right place to correct other errors. Neatness important. Keep type clean — not clogged up. Get new ribbon when old is worn faint. See instruction book for ribbon re- placement. See instruction book for necessary cleaning of machine. Dust is ruinous to good work. Regular oiling necessary. Neglect means repair bill. Don't meddle with mechanism ex- cept to tighten loose screws. Easy to do more harm than good. Typewriter a delicate though strongly built machine, will give little trouble if well treated, easily spoiled by neglect and meddling. Such a medley does not look very promising at first; but it is far more promising written down on paper than floating round loose in one's mind. The topics, though set down at random, follow in part natural associations of thought. For example, the question of the different types of keyboards leads to fingering, this to the touch system, this to speed, this to the errors that arise from excessive speed. Or again, the use of the line-spacer How does one correct errors? What about errors discovered later? Why be so particular about errors? How else can one secure neatness? How else? How is a new ribbon put on? What else should a beginner learn? Why must the machine be cleaned? What else? What happens if cleaning and oiling are neglected? Why can't one make repairs for one- self? Why not? How often are repairs needed? 26 FRESHMAN RHETORIC to turn the paper up at the end of a Une leads to the matter of dividing words at the end of a line, this to syllable-division, this to the dictionary. But the mention of the dictionary suggests spelling, which has nothing to do with the matter of right-hand margins on a typewritten page, and evidently belongs some- where else. There is, in short, a sort of rough coherence in some parts of the inventory, and utter incoherence in others. But before attempting to arrange the material, or even to divide it, we may well add to it points inadvertently omitted, and strike out those which, on further consideration, we decide not to include in the discussion. For example, on turning to our six leading questions we find that the question "Where?" has been neglected; only a few points have answered questions beginning with "Where?" Accordingly we try this adverb on the main subject. "Where should one learn to use a tyj:)ewriter?" At first this suggests nothing definite, for one may use a type- writer, or learn to use it, almost anywhere if there is something to set it on. But where shall we set it? The ordinary table is too high for comfortable and rapid typewriting; a beginner who starts out with his machine placed with the keyboard much above the level of his elbows will acquire wrong habits, a bad touch. We therefore insert somewhere in the list the phrase "Low table best." On the other hand, there is some superfluous material. The memoranda as to the purchase or rental of a typewriter may be regarded as not strictly pertinent to the sub- ject as now worded, "Learning to Use a Ty]:)ewriter. " They might become pertinent if we should later decide to modify the title, for example, "Why Students Should Use Typewriters." Leaving that cjuestion oj^en, the points may be bracketed or queried (not erased) for the present. There remains, after such additions and subtractions, an abundance of material for an interesting exposition, but it is in much confusion. We need a division. 22. The division. After such a hasty survey as is repre- EXPLAINING A SIMPLE SUBJECT 27 sented in the mental inventory, the second step is to consider several possible divisions into three or four main groups. Seldom will the best division appear at first; comparison and criticism will usually be necessary to avoid the obvious, the tame, the uninteresting treatment. We take a fresh sheet of paper, and write on it in several places from top to bottom a brace followed by three or four roman numerals, like this: ( L II. III. We then undertake to fill in the blanks after the numerals in several different ways. Let us consider some possibiUties. I. Value of typewriting to students II. First steps in learning typewriting III. Later steps t This is commonplace. We try again: I. Typewriting now almost a necessity II. Any one can learn by starting right III. Speed requires practice This is better, but there are other possibilities: I. Master mechanical features at start II. Work solely for accuracy and neatness at first III. Speed comes later . IV. Value of typewriting I. Why should one learn typewriting? II. When should one learn? III. How should one learn? I. Typewriting takes care II. Takes time HI. Pays In the end From such experiments as these we decide, perhaps, on some such division as that roughly indicated in the following memorandum : 28 FRESHMAN RHETORIC I. The value of typewriting for students, as justifying its cost in time and money. (This last feature answers the query in the inventory about the cost of new and second-hand typewi iters.) II. The importance of beginning right, and what the right beginning is. III. The means of acquiring proficiency. These phrases do not constitute an outline; they merely indicate a division upon the basis of which a complete outline can be made by arrangement and development of the details. 23. The arrangement. Points from the inventory are now to be grouped under these three heads. In the case of a much mLxed-up inventory the simplest way may be to number each point in the inventory I, II, or III, according to its proper place in the division. Thus the first few points in the inventory evidently belong under I, having to do chiefly with the \-alue of a knowledge of typewriting and with its cost in time and in money. Some of the material about portable and non-portable machines has little to do with the subject as now defined, and we pass over it to the points about fingering and the touch system. These points are numbered II. Then comes a passage about acquiring speed, which belongs under III, followed by a good deal of other matter about margins and line-spacing that belongs to II. Thus we go through the inventory classifying the points under these three heads. It soon becomes evident that the subdivisions under I and III will be few and simple, while the arrangement of points under II will require some further attention. We may save some time in the writing of the outline if we go over the inventory once more noting only the points numbered II, and decide on some logical arrangement of them which may be indicated by writing A, B, C, etc. after the II. We are then ready for the final and perhaps most important step of developing from the inventory and the division a com- plete sentence outline. EXPLAINING A SIMPLE SUBJECT 29 24. The development. A mere arrangement in suitable order of the points to be discussed (a phrase outHne) is not ade- quate for such practice in exposition as is here undertaken. Outlines written in single words and detached phrases indicate the order of discussion, but nothing more. The writer has still to decide what he has to say about each point. It is true that for some purposes the phrase outline is sufficient, especially in descriptive and narrative writing. In most expository and argumentative outlines, on the contrary, it is best to supply a predicate for every subject. For example, when we come to the subject of keyboards, what are we to say about them? We may say, "Nearly all modern typewriters have about the same arrangement of letters;" or "Most keyboards are of one or the other of two types, the double shift and the single shift;" oT' "The arrangement of letters on the standard keyboard is sup- posed to be the best for rapid work;" or we may supply some altogether different predicate. In a sentence outline for a long exposition these sentences as a rule become the topic sentences of paragraphs; in a short composition they may make up half or more than half of the completed text. In either case the formulation of a definite predicate for every subject in the out- line is the only way to give a real answer to the cjuestion, "What have I to say about it?" The completed outline will look somewhat like this: Typewriting for College Students I. A knowledge of typewriting is so useful to students that is is worth some expenditure of time and money. A. The use of a typewriter is helpful to the student in three ways: 1. In enabling him to turn in neater themes, notes, reports, etc., thereby escaping the unfavorable impression created by illegible manuscript. 2. In training him in accurate spelling and punctuation. 3. Ultimately, after sufificient proficiency has been attained, in a. Saving his time. b. Earning money by copjdng for others. 30 FRESHMAN RHETORIC B. The time necessary for learning to write, accurately but slowly, is only a few weeks. C. The cost, if one must buy a typewriter, is not great; for 1. A new machine ($50 to $100) may be paid for in instalments, and represents an investment good for many years. 2. A good second-hand machine ($20 to $50) will give fair ser- vice for at least four years. II. In learning the typewriter the first steps must be taken with care and patience. A . Any one can learn in a few minutes to pick out the letters and write in hit-or-miss fashion, using one or two fingers; but neither accu- racy nor speed can be acquired in that way. B. The first step is to learn, preferably from an instruction book, the elementary mechanism of the typewriter; e.g.: 1. How to insert and straighten the paper. 2. How to set the left and right margin stops. a. Margins should be approximately equal, and never less than an inch. b. Good typewriting has a fairly even right-hand margin, requiring care in looking ahead when approaching the end of a line. c. Margin-release devices should not be indiscrimi- nately used to permit writing beyond the normal margin. 3. How to set the line-spacer for single or double space. a. Single space is often used for letters, with wide margins, and double space between paragraphs. b. Double space is best for most other purposes. 4. IIow to use the shift-keys for capitals and figures. 5. How to write the alphabet in small letters and capitals. 6. How to use such mechanical devices as the back- spacer, ribbon-reverse, etc. C. Correct fingering, as described in ihe instruction book, should be used from the first; for 1. It is based on using ten fingers, instead of four or six, and in the long run it is easiest and fastest. 2. The third and fourth fingers, weak at first, will gain strength with practice. EXPLAINING A SIMPLE SUBJECT 31 3. Whether the touch system is used or not, one should be able to run a typewriter without constantly watching the keyboard. III. After one has learned the elements of typewriting it is important to continue to strive for A. Accuracy. 1. Eirors due to inadvertence look just as bad as those due to ignorance. 2. Every error should be carefully erased and corrected. B. Speed. 1. Fingering exercises should be persistently practiced until the position of the letters is completely mastered. 2. Memorized sentences should be repeated over and over at increasing speed. 3. Timing oneself page by page gives a good stimulus. 4. Speed should not be allowed to obscure the superior import- ance of accuracy; for a. No time is really gained by fast, reckless writing. b. In typewriting, as in all other writing, the convenience of the reader rather than of the writer should be consulted. 25. The form of the outline. Note the form in which the outline is written on the page. Its main divisions are written the fu 11 width of the page, and numbered I, II, III. The princi- pal subdivisions are indented and lettered A, B, C. These in turn are subdivided into numbered sections, i, 2, 3, still more in- dented; and the process, if necessary, is carried one step further, to the a, b, c. Divisions of the same order of importance should be equally indented. If a division runs over a line, the second line should begin no further to the left than the first; in other words, only the main divisions with roman numerals are written the full width of the page; everything else is indented. The reason for requiring a uniform method of numbering and spacing is that the relative importance of a point may be instantly seen by its notation and its distance from the margin — this for the guidance both of the writer and of the reader. 32 FRESHMAN RHETORIC 26. The outline promotes unity, coherence, and emphasis. Such an outline insures a reasonable degree of unity in the whole composition and in each of its paragraphs, because in making it we are forced to exclude or transpose irrelevant material. For example, we found no place in which to discuss the question what sort of typewriter one should buy, whether portable or non- portable, double-shift or single-shift, new or second-hand, because the only angle from which this matter proved to be pertinent was the amount of money to be expended. Another composition might be written on "How to Choose a Typewriter," but that subject, although suggested in the mental inventory, is barred from the outline by its structure and by limitations of length. Again, the sentence outline promotes coherence. Under the head of correct lingering (H. C) we might hsLxe gone on to say all we had to say about fingering exercises, if it were not that our third division (III. B) needed that point to make it complete. Emphasis, too, is promoted by a good outline. Either the first or the second main division may be made the more emphatic by receiving the major assignment of space in the finished com- position, according to the purpose for which it is intended. Moreover, the outline, which itself includes a little more than five hundred words, shows us that we have quite enough mater- ial — perhaps too much — for a short theme, without consider- ing at all such matters mentioned in the inventory as the care of the typewriter, cleaning, and repairs. Emphasis, in a short theme, will require the omission or mere passing mention of some things otherwise pertinent, in order to bring out the dominant ideas, 'i'he outline also promotes emphasis of another kind than that of proportionate sjiace, namely, emphasis of position. A consideration of this principle leads us to begin (LA) and to end (UI.B. 4.I)) with important points particularly appropriate for an English theme, and to give them initial and terminal emphasis without destroying their relation to the intervening EXPLAINING A SIMPLE SUBJECT 33 material. Thus unity, coherence, and emphasis, which are fundamental principles of all composition, are both promoted and tested by such a thorough preliminary analysis as is repre- sented in a full sentence outline. A phrase outline would have indicated little besides the arrangement, and would have misled us into including far more material than could be adequately treated. 27. Paragraphing. In the case of a short composition the paragraphs are likely to coincide with the main divisions of the outline. An ordinary paragraph in modern English exposition varies from one hundred to three hundred words, averaging perhaps two hundred. Two hundred words are equivalent in ordinary handwriting to about a page, or a page and a cjuarter, of theme-paper; in ordinary speech two hundred words occupy about a minute and a half. Therefore a theme of six to eight hundred words, or an oral exposition of five or six minutes, will ordinarily have not less than three nor more than five para- graphs; and a good paragraph in such a theme will cover not much less and not much more than a page of ordinary handwriting. These rough estimates are stated solely as a caution against the common fault of writing short, fragmentary paragraphs of two or three sentences each; but it is not length nor brevity that determines merit in paragraphs; it is unity. A paragraph, in exposition or argument, is a coherent group of sentences dealing with one distinct aspect of the subject, and slightly separated in thought from those paragraphs which pre- cede and follow. This separation in thought is indicated in wi-iting and printing by indention; in speech by a slight pause and a change of tone. A careful speaker will unconsciously mark his paragraphs just as unmistakably as a writer. We must get away from the idea of a paragraph as a part of a composition arbitrarily set off by the use of a little extra white space to rest the eye. We must learn to think of the paragraph as an organic unity developed from within, built up around a central idea. 34 FRESHMAN RHETORIC This unity of the paragraph may be attained in a short theme by having the paragraphs coincide with the main divisions, but such a coincidence is by no means indispensable. Many persons writing from the outhne above printed would devote the whole of the first paragraph to LA (value of a knowledge of typewrit- ing) ; a second to LB and I.C. (cost in time and money) ; a third to II.A and II. B. (first steps in learning); a fourth to II. C (fin- gering) ; and a fifth to III (practice for accuracy and speed). In a slightly longer composition there would be seven or eight para- graphs instead of five: two or three paragraphs being devoted to the first steps in learning (II.A, B), and two to the last division. A considerably longer discussion, such as a printed leaflet or pamphlet for advertising purposes, would give a separate para- graph to nearly every subdivision in the outline. The number of paragraphs, in other words, depends upon the degree of ful- ness with which the subject is developed. 28. Condensed outlines for oral exposition. After a fully developed sentence outline has been written, the student is pre- pared either to write or to speak on the subject. Most of the real work — the analysis and arrangement of the material — has been already done. Whether speaking comes before or after writing in full, it should be based on mastery of the material rather than on memorization of the exact language to be used. The leading points should be so firmly fixed in the mind that little or no use need be made of notes. Experience has shown that the best way to make sure of not needing to use notes is to make the best notes possible in the briefest and most convenient compass, to study them carefully, and then to have them at hand ready to consult in an emergency. The best form for notes for a short talk is on small cards of uniform size, which can be sHpped into the pocket, or, if necessary, held in the hollow of the left hand while speaking. Sheets of paper are unsuitable, because if large they require both hands to hold them steady, and if small they are likely to curl or crumple up and become EXPLAINING A SIMPLE SUBJECT 35 illegible. The lines of writing on the card should be across its shorter dimension in order that it may be held in the left palm, instead of between thumb and forefinger. Suppose we take the outline on typewriting and see what kind of condensed memo- randum can be got on the two sides of a single card three by five inches. A carefully framed introductory sentence or two, followed by an abbreviated summary of the outline, will appear somewhat as follows: Many of us who are earning our way in college are apt to think we cannot afford to own a typewriter. The real ques- tion is: Can we afford to do without it? A good workman must sooner or later afford the best tools of his trade. I. A. B. The Value of a Type- writer Neater written work Training in spelling, etc. Saving time. Earning money Exceeds the cost In time — only few weeks In money — new ma- chine $50-1100, in- stalments; used ma- chines, $20-$50. II. First Steps in Learning A. Important to start right B. Mechanical features: Inserting paper Margins Single and double space Shift-keys Learning alphabet Minor mechanical fea- tures C. Correct fingering — why? B. III. After learning elements, Work for Accuracy and Speed A. Errors mar work and should be corrected. Speed: Fingering exercises Memorized sentences Timing pages Speed less important than accuracy For, after all, we gain nothing if we learn to write fast with- out learning to write well. The convenience of the writer must always give way to the convenience of the reader, whom he desires to win and to hold fast from the first page down to the very last line. Clean copy commands respect, holds attention, and, if there be anything in it worth reading, insures success. 36 FRESHMAN RHETORIC If more than one card is necessary, only one side should be written on, and the cards should be numbered. A different method of condensation, in which the extreme compactness of a single card is sacrificed to better display of the material to catch the eye, is illustrated in the following outline of the sub- ject "Guarding against Residence Fires." This outline is written on six small cards, two and one-half by three inches (three-by-five cards cut in two), which are still more easily held in the palm of the left hand. When the fire-engines dash past your door, and the firemen begin to lay hose from a hydrant on the next corner, the thought flashes into your mind, ■what if it were our house? It may be your liouse next. What are we doing to prevent residence fires? What more can we do? I. Origin of res. fires. II. Conditions of spread. III. ]Mean3 of exting- uishing. IV. Means of escape. Commonest causes of residence fires are: Matches Gasohne Gas-burners Overheated fur- naces Defective wiring Remedies for tliesc: 3 II. Rapid spread of small fires due to: Paper and inflamma- ble rubbish Inflammable draper- ies. Opening of doors and windows wliich creates a draft. Remedies for these: III. Means of checking small fires at start ; Chemical extinguish- ers. Smothering by wet blankets or rugs Tearing down blaz- ing drajicries Cutting off draft Best usually to send in alarm if blaze not instantly checked IV. Providing for escape of tenants: Suitable stairways Fire-escapes above second floor Knowledge of proper way to pass through smoke We Americans are more reckless about fire than any other people in the world. Carelessness that risks not only one's own property but the property and tiie lives of others deserves only condemnation. Every good citizen should be a volunteer fireman to the extent of relentless vigilance against the start and the spread of residence fires. Safety begins at home. Observe tluit these condensed notes are so arranged as to be instantly available in case of a failure of memory; but it is not contemplated that a speaker should be looking down at the card EXPLAINING A SIMPLE SUBJECT 37 for every point. If notes of this sort have been carefully worked out by the person who is to use them, and if the catch-words at the beginning and at the end have been memorized, the rest is likely to take care of itself. Much importance may be attached to the memorizing of the exact phraseology intended to be used at the very beginning and the very end of the speech. These two sentences, and the catchwords of the main divisions (e.g. causes, spread, checking, escape) are all that need to be learned; provided the material has been thoroughly prepared and re- hearsed, subdivisions and details will be easily recollected, at least enough of them to make a good speech. It is a mistake to be dependent either upon memorized details or upon elaborate notes; in the one case the speaker's eyes are fixed on the ceiling, in the other on his manuscript; and a speaker's eyes should always be on his audience. 29. Suggestions for oral exposition. Whether delivered with or without notes, an oral exposition should be a genuine talk to the class, not a perfunctory enumeration of points. The speaker's first business as he faces his audience is to win atten- tion, to excite interest. This requires no formal introduction, but a crisp sentence or two pointing out some point of contact, some element of timehness, some practical bearing of the subject. Then should come some indication, informal but clear, of the threefold or fourfold division adopted. This sentence announc- ing the division is often forgotten by inexperienced speakers, or if remembered is stiffly and awkwardly delivered. It may take many forms. On the subject of typewriting, for example, one might say, after the introductory sentences at the head of the condensed outline: "It is easy to show that the value of type- writing to a college student exceeds its cost; and that if the first steps in learning the art are properly mastered, one may by reasonable practice attain accuracy and speed. First, then, why is a knowledge of typewriting valuable?" On the other subject 46623 38 FRESHMAN I^IHETORIC the division might be announced in some such way as this: "What are we doing to prevent residence fires? What more can we do? In order to answer these questions we must con- sider what causes residence fires, why they spread so fast, how they may be checked at the start, and how the escape of tenants may be provided for in case a fire gets beyond control." In treating each point in turn, careful attention should be given to the lapse of time, in order that the end of the allotted period may not arrive when the speaker is half through. A watch or clock is less convenient for this than a timing device, started and stopped by a lever, such as is manufactured for timing long-distance telephone conversations; or even a sand- glass, turned over when the speaker begins. But in case no such convenience is provided in the classroom, the speaker should still be able, if properly prepared by a timed rehearsal, to keep within the prescribed limit. In the effective use of the last minute lies much of the differ- ence between a good speech and a poor one. Whatever else is left to the inspiration of the moment, the exact substance, per- haps even the form of the concluding sentence should be firmly fixed in mind. A race is won at the tape; and a good finish is as important as a good start. Even when through miscalcula- tion one finds it necessary to omit some important material, the best course is not to hurry incoherently through half-explained points to a weak and apologetic ending, but to pass boldly and without delay to a conclusion. A sentence framed in advance for just such an emergency is worth a good deal at that particular time; for it seems to bridge over the gap (which probably no one but the speaker has noticed) and ends the speech with a note of confidence, of assurance, of force. 30. Natural gesture. At any moment in an oral exposition when one feels the impulse to point to some visible object in the room, or to use the hands to indicate size, shape, motion, direction, the impulse should be followed. Thus in a talk on EXPLAINING A SIMPLE SUBJECT 39 lighting or ventilation one may well point to parts of the class- room. A speaker explaining the elements of sailing will use the two hands to indicate the relative angles of the wind and the sail, or the sail and the rudder. A mechanical process or device suggests many illustrative natural hand-gestures. The value of such movements is less for the audience than for the speaker. Their real function is the hberation of the hands and arms from the tyranny of pockets and self-consciousness. A test will show that the moment the hands come into use in simple, natural ways growing out of the subject, the mind works more freely, words come more easily, command over the audience and the subject is increased. Gestures of this natural sort, to indicate direc- tion, form, movement, and so forth, need no elaborate study or preparation ; one has merely to let oneself go. It is true that many subjects present no such opportunities. For these the other kind of gesture, the symboUc kind appUca- ble to all kinds of abstract thought and oratory, may be too difficult for the beginner, or even inappropriate to a simple sub- ject. But any chance to use the former kind, even if only to pick up a piece of chalk and write on the blackboard an unusual word, or sketch rapidly a rude diagram, should be all means be seized upon. The lifting of the self-imposed ban against move- ment while one stands on the platform, the release of restrained energy from the tense muscles to the busy brain by almost any instinctive gesture, is the first object to be attained. After that, by sufficient experience, one may learn the difficult art of stand- ing at ease without gesture, without tension, without slackness; standing still, with the consciousness of latent power, which is the achievement of the practiced speaker. 31. Criticism of oral expositions. In order that students may learn to speak in public by one of the best possible means, namely, by observing both the merits and the faults of their classmates with direct appHcation to their own, such questions as the following may be placed before the class for answer: 40 FRESHMAN RHETORIC The Speech in General 1. Did the speaker properly announce his subject? 2. Did he stick to it and complete it? (Unity.) 3. Were the several points clearly announced, properly arranged, and well connected? (Coherence) 4. Was there a proper distribution of time? (Emphasis) 5. Was there any obscure passage? (Clearness) 6. Was the opening sentence such as to attract attention? (Interest) 7. Were specific examples used to illustrate the points? (Interest) 8. Did the speaker, as a matter of fact, hold the attention of his audience? (Interest) 9. Did he close with an effective sentence? (Interest) 10. Was the speech forcible? If not, why? (Force) Errors 11. Was the speaker's bodily attitude correct? 12. Was the voice clear, distinct, pleasant, loud enough to be easily heard? 13. What words were mispronounced? 14. What words were slurred, clijiped, drawled, or otherwise wrongly sounded., apart from the definite errors in accent or vowel quantity above named? 15. What words were used in an incorrect sense? 16. What errors in grammar? 17. WTiat errors of fact, or self -contradictory statements? In connection with questions 13 and 14, attention may be called to the list of words commonly mispronounced, in the appendix of this book. Suggested Assignments Assignment 2. Read sections 16-26, select a subject from the list of one hundred, and write out a "mental inventory" (section 21) of at least twenty- five points bearing on the subject. This inventory need not be copied, but should be brought to class for possible use in the class discussion. Assignment 3. Reread sections 24 and 25. Write a completely developed sentence outUne in the form there illustrated. Revise and copy the outhne to be handed in, retaining the original draft for reference. Assignment 4. Read sections 27-31, write on a small card or cards a con- densed outline like those in section 28, and prepare by private oral rehearsal for a five-minute talk in class. Assigyimeyit 5. Write a theme of six to eight hundred words on the subject already outlined. CHAPTER III GOOD SENTENCES 32. Good sentences are not accidental but deliberate. After two carefully planned exercises in simple exposition (Chap- ters I and II), we have already come to see that careful planning is indispensable. No good essay arises from good luck. Chance may favor a writer here and there, but chance cannot be trusted. Writers may blunder their way into popularity, but not into efficiency. Where there is one who succeeds without work, there are many who work without success; usually because they do not work intelligently. This need of well directed labor in learning how to write applies to the planning of the whole com- position; to the sentences; to the paragraphs; and to the individ- ual words. This chapter is devoted to good sentences. In a later chapter good paragraphs will be studied; and still later there will be a more intensive study of words. Whether sentences or paragraphs should come first in college composition is a matter of opinion; but inasmuch as study of the syntax of the sentence is partly a review of the elementary English already studied, it may properly come near the beginning of the year's work. Grammar is a subject none too well taught and none too well understood at the present time. To ask a college freshman to go back to the rudiments of sentence structure is no reflection upon his intelligence; for many intelHgent people do not know one type of sentence from another. So long as one is content with the ability to express a thought in one passably correct fashion, the necessity for such grammatical knowledge does not immediately appear. It is when we begin to seek variety and flexibility of expression that we perceive our lack; and, if 41 42 FRESHMAN RHETORIC we are wise, take measures to remedy the defect. The first step is to learn to recognize a sentence when we see it. 33. Sentences and clauses distinguished. Sentences and clauses are alike in that both require subjects and predicates. They differ in that a sentence — a declarative sentence — is a complete assertion, and a clause is an incomplete assertion. It is clear enough that a dependent clause in a complex sentence is an incomplete assertion, for its meaning is determined by the principal clause. He makes mistakes when he tries to write fast, (principal clause) (dependent clause) Though wages have decreased, rents remain high, (dependent clause) (principal clause) Here the dependent clauses could not stand alone, though each has a subject and a predicate; for the meaning of each is entirely uncertain without the principal clause. But these prin- cipal clauses could be written by themselves as complete asser- tions, becoming, when so written, independent sentences: He makes mistakes. Rents remain high. Why, then, are these assertions regarded as incomplete when they appear as principal clauses in the complex sentences above? The answer is that in those complex sentences the meaning of the principal assertion is limited by the meaning of the depend- ent assertion just as truly as the dependent clause is limited by the principal clause. "He makes mistakes" — always? No; only, or chiefly, "when he tries to write fast." "Rents remain high" — in spite of what contrasted conditions? In spite of the lowered wages. The complete thought of the writer in each complex sentence is a unit, made up of two incomplete elements. Now suppose, choosing such a sentence, we undertake to express a similar but not identical relation by two independent sentences. GOOD SENTENCES 43 Wages have decreased. Rents, on the other hand remain high. This does not differ materially in meaning from Wages have decreased, but rents remain high. The grammatical form of this compound sentence is that of two coordinate clauses joined by a coordinating conjunction. They are closely joined in meaning; more closely joined than if the two assertions, spoken with a falling inflection on "decreased," were written thus: Wages have decreased. But rents remain high. Such a comparison shows us that in a compound sentence the two coordinate assertions may be regarded as "incomplete" only in the sense that it is primarily the combination of the two which constitutes the writer's complete thought. They may, as just shown, be separated into two independent sentences; but the resulting change is a change not only in punctuation and capitalization but also in the precise shade of thought expressed. It is the different inflection of the voice in the two cases — falling inflection on "decreased" and a pause before the period, rising inflection and a shorter pause before the comma — that shows us the difference. Spoken English often provides much more delicate and decisive tests of grammatical relations than does written English. Even in this special case of the compound sentence, therefore, we may defend the definition of a clause as an incomplete assertion, containing a subject and a predicate, which forms a part of a complex or a compomid sentence. The most common error, however, arising from failure to grasp the distinction between a sentence and a clause is found not in compound sentences but in complex. This is the error of writing a dependent clause as a complete sentence. We note, therefore, as the most important point of this section, that it is nearly always wrong to write as a complete sentence an assertion 44 FRESHMAN RHETORIC beginning with a subordinating conjunction (e.g., because, though, while), or with a relative pronoun.i 34. Sentences and phrases distinguished. A phrase is a connected group of words not containing a subject and a predi- cate. In connected discourse a phrase may not ordinarily stand alone, capitalized and punctuated as a sentence.^ In particular, what is called an absolute phrase, containing a noun or pronoun in the nominative absolute and a participle, may not be written as a separate sentence. The second half of the following sentence is an absolute phrase: The case was finally settled to the satisfaction of both parties, the terms being decided on the basis of previous negotiations. An absolute phrase may not be punctuated and capitalized as a sentence even if it is followed by a dependent clause, as in the following example: The case was finally settled by arbitration to the satisfaction of both parties, the terms being such that each side gained some advantages. In this last illustration the second half of the sentence does con- tain a subject and a predicate, but they belong to the dependent clause of result. As pomted out in the previous section, it is incorrect to set ofif such a group of words as if it were a sentence. By substituting the finite verb were for the participle being, we may make an independent sentence.' 1 An exception is the case in which such an assertion answers a question. "Why did you go so soon? Because I was very late." 2 A phrase may stand alone: (1 ) When it is the answer to a question: "Where were youstandinfi? In front of the house." (2) As a title, at the head of a composition, or as a subhead, such as the section titles in this book. (3) In condensed matter] such as entries in a catalogue, or in advertisements: "Ten-room house. All modern improvements. Desirable neighborhood." * Certain modern writers, such as Kipling and Wells, seek to add force to their style by occasionally writing phrases and dependent clauses as separate sentences; particu- larly relative clauses beginning with which. Such eccentricities may be pardoned, or even welcomed, in gifted writers; they know wliat they axe about. Their readers may not agree with them tliat these variations from usage add anything to their effectiveness ; but at least it is hardly worth while to classify all such mannerisms as errors. When college students can write like Kipling, they may begin to punctuate as he does, W/i icA sentences do not make a Kipling, nor rows of three dots ... a Wells. GOOD SENTENCES 45 35. Simple and compound sentences distinguished. A simple declarative sentence is a single complete assertion con- taining a single subject and a single predicate. A compound sentence consists of two or more coordinate clauses, each with its subject and predicate. Careful distinction should be made between a simple sentence with a compound predicate and a compound subject with two subjects and two predicates. College students have more freedom, and use it more wisely. (Simple sentence with compound predicate; only one subject.) CoUege men and college women have more freedom, and use it more wisely. (Simple sentence with compound subject and compoimd predicate; still only one subject and one predicate.) College students have more freedom, and some of them use it wisely. (Compound sentence; two clauses, each with its separate subject and predi- cate. ) The chief inference from this distinction is that when two closely related assertions are made about the same subject, they should generally be combined in a simple sentence with compound predicate; not in a compound sentence with a pronoun as the subject of the second clause. The sophomores learned of the postponement, and changed their plans accordingly. {Not "and they changed".) 36. Compound sentence must have unity: the comma fault. A compound sentence consists of two or more coordinate clauses closely related in meaning and logically of equal import- ance. Two simple sentences that are not closely related and not of equal importance cannot be made into a correct compound sentence by running them together with a comma between. The habit of separating independent simple sentences by commas, known as the "comma fault, "is a gross violation of the unity of the sentence. This is not merely an error in pimc- tuation and capitalization; it is an error in thinking, a mark of a careless and slovenly or immature mind. If two such asser- tions are not closely related in thought, they should be separated 46 FRESHMAN RHETORIC by a period and a capital letter. If they are closely and obviously related, so that they may properly be combined in a compound sentence without any conjunction, they should be separated by a semicolon. 37. Clauses of compound sentence must be coordinate in meaning. A compound sentence composed of two statements joined by and is correct only when the two statements are really coordinate, or of equal rank, in meaning as well as in syntax. The word and between clauses means: "These two assertions are parallel in meaning; neither one is dependent in sense upon the other." If one is the cause or result of the other, if one indicates the time or place or circumstances of the action predi- cated in the other, such relations should be indicated by the form of the sentence. Connectives like /or, therefore, should be intro- duced if the relation is causal. In most such cases the com- pound sentence should be changed to the complex form, with one of the two assertions in a dependent clause; or to a simple sentence, with one of them condensed into a phrase. In general, it may be said that when one is learning to ^\Tite the mature Enghsh of adult life, of educated persons, one should scrutinize every compound sentence in order to make sure that it should not be either divided into simple sentences or shifted to the complex form. In a good expository style the end to be aimed at is logical subordination of thought, rather than shallow and immature coordination. Ideas are not to be strung along in a row like beads on a string; their relations are to be deter- mined, and indicated by the form of the sentences. In such a style the conjunction and will be constantly employed between words and between phrases; but will seldom be used alone to join clauses, and still more seldom to begin sentences or para- graphs. It is a mannerism of some recent noveUsts and of many advertising writers to begin many of their sentences with and. Sweeping statements that and should never begin a sentence cannot be defended; but the habit soon becomes tiresome, and GOOD SENTENCES 47 loses any piquancy it may at first have contributed. No piquancy at all can be discovered in the nervous habit of many inexperienced speakers who run nearly all their sentences together with and, merely as a sort of vocal period. A five- minute talk of some such speakers, if printed from a verbatim stenographic report, would turn out to be one long compound sentence of sLx or seven hundred words. 38. The so sentence. Another mark of crudity, as common and as undesirable as the excessive use of and to join clauses, is the word so. A good rule for the student to follow is never to use so as a connective except when it is naturally followed by that. Correct: We were so tired when we reachedthe village that we decided to stay there over night. Colloquial, not desirable in written English, except in friendly letters: We were tired when we reached the village; so we decided to stay there over night. Correct: The shaft was worn so thin that it was not worth repairing. Crude: The shaft was worn very thin; so we did not try to repair it. Crude: The stain was made by an acid; so an alkali should be applied to neutralize it. Correct: Since the stain was made by an acid, an alkali should be applied to neutralize it. Crude: Heavy oils leave carbon in the cylinders; so a lighter oil should be used. Correct: A lighter oil should be used, for heavy oils leave carbon in the cylinders. Crude: He had not enough money to pay all cash; so he gave his note for half the price. Correct: Not having enough money to pay all cash, he gave his note for half the price. The trouble with the "so sentence" is not that there is no authority for the use of so in the sense of therefore, but rather that the habitual use of so to the exclusion of other means of expressing cause and result is a mark of immaturity, of careless thinking. Good writers seldom employ the word in this way. 48 FRESHMAN RHETORIC When they do, they never fail to precede it by a mark of punc- tuation, preferably a semicolon. A "so sentence" properly punctuated is bad enough; a "so sentence" without even a comma is an almost infallible sign of an untrained writer. 39. Punctuation of the compound sentence. The two or more coordinate clauses of a compound sentence must always be separated by either a comma or a semicolon. Which of the two marks shall be used depends on the length of the sentence and the nature of the connection between the clauses. There are three types, the punctuation of which is as follows: (i) When the clauses of a compound sentence are connected by one of the simple coordinating conjunctions and, but, or, for, the conjunction must be preceded by either a comma or a semi- colon; generally a comma, but sometimes by a semicolon when the clauses are long, especially if commas are used for interior punctuation. (2) When the clauses of a compound sentence are joined, not by one of the short conjunctions named above but by such words as therefore, thus, yet, still, hence, however, then, moreover, the second clause should be preceded always by a semicolon, never by a comma. (3) When the clauses of a compound sentence are set side by side with no connective of any sort between them, they should be separated always by a semicolon, never by a comma. ^ 40. Complex sentence has clauses of unequal rank. A complex sentence has one, and only one, principal clause, and one or more dependent clauses, the latter being of inferior or subordinate rank. A dependent clause may usually be recog- nized by its first or second word, which is ordinarily a relative pronoun, a relative adverb, or a subordinating conjunction such as if, although, unless, because, that. But the conjunction if is sometimes omitted: "Were he here, he would object"; and (2) 1 Occasionally, in a series of three or more short parallel clauses unconnected by conjunctions, es[)ccially in rapid narrative or description, commas may take the place of semicolons: "Bells clanged, whistles blew, crowds hurried by; all was confusion," GOOD SENTENCES 49 a relative pronoun in the objective case is often omitted: "The trunk I lost has just turned up." 41. Dependent clause is a noun, adjective, or adverb. A dependent clause, whether it is or is not preceded by a subordi- nating word, may readily be distinguished from a principal clause by reason of the fact that a dependent clause is always logically equivalent to a single part of speech, whereas a principal clause cannot be so regarded. (i) A dependent clause is the equivalent of a noun when it is the subject of a verb or the object of a verb or preposition, or in apposition with a substantive. "Whether he succeeded is what we must discover." (Subject of verb.) "They gave him what he asked for." (Object of verb.) "There is some doubt as to where the building should be erected." (Object of preposi- tion.) "The problem what to do with the surplus is now being investigated." (In apposition with problem.) (2) A dependent clause is the equivalent of an adjective when it describes or restricts a substantive. "Major Anderson, whom I met on a train yesterday, told me so." (Descriptive or non-restrictive.) "An officer that I met on a train yesterday told me so." (Restrictive; see section 43.) (3) A dependent clause is the equivalent of an adverb when it modifies the whole predicate of the principal clause, answer- ing such a question as one of the following: Why? When? How long? Where? On what condition? Notwithstanding what circumstance? "The general surrendered because his sup- plies were cut ofif." (Why did he surrender?) "This division arrived after the battle was over." (When did it arrive?) "They remained until reinforcements appeared." (How long did they remain?) "We rode as far as the highway was pas- sable." (How far?) "The money will be refunded if an error can be proved." (On what condition?) "Coal is still scarce, although the miners' strike has been settled." (Notwithstand- ing what circumstance?) 50 FRESHMAN RHETORIC 42. Punctuation of complex sentence. A dependent clause beginning a complex sentence should generally be followed by a comma. "If the weather is cloudy, a longer exposure will be necessary." The reason for the comma is to mark the slight pause that separates the conditional clause from the principal clause. A very short dependent clause sometimes needs no following comma. "When he saw them he quickened his pace." A principal clause beginning a complex sentence need not be separated by a comma from a following dependent clause unless clearness requires a pause between the two. "A longer exposure will be necessary if the weather is cloudy." 43. Punctuation of descriptive and restrictive clauses. A clause or phrase describing the preceding substantive without being necessary to complete the meaning of the substantive is called descriptive or non-restrictive, and should be preceded by a comma. "Lincoln, who was called by Lowell 'the first Ameri- can,' was born in Kentucky." The relative clause could be omitted without making the subject less definite. A clause or phrase restricting the preceding substantive in such a way that without it the substantive would be indefinite is called restrictive, and must never be preceded by a comma. "That president who was called by Lowell 'the first American' was bom in Kentucky." The difference between the two kinds of clauses or phrases can always be readily detected by noting whether the clause or phrase could be omitted from the sentence. If it could, it is non-restrictive and requires a comma; if it could not, it is restrictive and requires the omission of a comma. 44. Commas before and after appositive phrase. An apposi- tive phrase, or group of words used as a noun standing in appo- sition with a preceding substantive, must be setoff from the rest of the sentence by commas. "Albany, the capital of the state, is situated on the Hudson River." Note that the comma after the appositive phrase is as important as the comma before it. GOOD SENTENCES 51 45. Commas before and after a parenthetical expression. A parenthetical word, phrase, or clause should be set ofif by commas. Parenthetical word: "The second half of the speech, however, was tedious." Parenthetical phrase: "The initial expense, at all events, should be met by the company." Paren- thetical clause: "Many of the men, it seems, have disregarded this rule." A vocative word or phrase, signifying the person or persons addressed, should be set off by commas. "Yes, sir, you are right." Note that it takes two commas to set off a paren- thetical or vocative word or phrase within a sentence — one before and one after the expression set off. 46. Comma separating last members of series. A comma should preferably be placed before the conjunction and connect- ing the last two members of a series of three or more terms in the form X, y, and z. "Men, women, and children," "Boston, New York, Philadelphia, and Chicago." To omit this comma, as was formerly the custom, and still is in newspaper style, illogi- cally suggests a closer relation between the last two terms than between them and those which precede. "There was a separate aviation service for the army, the navy, and the Marine Corps." 47. Comma to set off participial phrase. A participial phrase at the beginning of a sentence, and an absolute phrase, containing a participle with a nominative absolute, anywhere in a sentence, should be set off by commas. Desiring to have further iiiformation, he called for an investigation. There could be no doubt, the circumstances being so peculiar, that some en or had been made. 48. Use no unnecessary commas. Apart from such commas as are prescribed in the preceding rules, no comma should be used except where necessary for clearness. "Open" punctuation now prevails, having almost completely displaced the "close" punctuation of past generations. The punctuation even of standard writers of more than fifty years ago is not now a desir- 52 FRESHMAN RHETORIC able model, for they employed many commas which would not be used to-day. When in doubt, it is best to omit the comma unless there is a perceptible pause when the passage is read aloud. There are some cases in which a comma is indispensable in order to prevent confusion of one word with another; as, for example, the comma before the conjunction for, in order to distinguish it from the preposition. 49. Four incorrect commas. A comma in the four following cases is generally incorrect: (a) Before a restrictive clause or phrase (section 43). {b) Between the subject and the predicate of a sentence (ex- cept when the comma is the second of a pair setting off a paren- thetical or appositive expression). (c) Between the clauses of a compound sentence joined by &, conjunctive adverb, where a semicolon, not a comma, is required (section 39). {d) Between the clauses of a compound sentence not joined by any connective, where a semicolon, not a comma, is required (section 39). , 50. Exercise in the syntax and punctuation of the sentence. Punctuate and capitalize the following passages. Use no com- mas except those necessary for clearness and for conformity to the rules stated in the preceding sections. Be prepared to state what is the syntax of each separate sentence, whether simple, compound, or complex. In the case of complex sentences, note which is the principal and which the dependent clause. In the case of a compound sentence composed of two or three coordinate clauses not connected by conjunctions, consider the relative effect of punctuating it with semicolons, and of dividing it into independent sentences separated by periods. Yet it is a very plain and elementary truth that the Hfe the fortune and the happiness of eveiy one of us and more 01 less of those who are connected with us do depend upon our knowing something of the rules of a game infinitely more difficult and complicated than chess it is a game which has GOOD SENTENCES 53 been played for untold ages every man and woman of us being one of the two players in a game of his or her own the chess-board is the world the pieces are the phenomena of the universe the rules of the game are what we call the laws of nature .the player on the other side is hidden from us. we know that his play is always fair just and patient but also we know to our cost that he never overlooks a mistake or makes the smallest allowance for ignorance to the man who plays well the highest stakes are paid with that sort of overflowing generosity with which the strong shows delight in strength and one who plays ill is checkmated without haste but without remorse. — Huxley, A Liberal Education. It is not easy to write a familiar style many people mistake a familiar for a vulgar style and suppose that to write without affectation is to write at random.on the contrary there is nothing that requires more precision: and if I may so say purity of expression than the style I am speaking of it utterly rejects not only all unmeaning pomp but all low cant phrases and loose un- connected sUpshod allusions it is not to take the first word that offers but the best word in common use.it is not to throw words together in any com- binations we please but to foUow and avail ourselves of the true idiom of the language, to write a genuine familiar or truly English style is to wiite as any one would speak in common conversation who had a thorough command and choice of words or who could discourse with ease force and perspicuity setting aside aU pedantic and oratorical flourishes thus it is easy to affect a pompous style to use a word twice as big as the thing you want to express it is not so easy to pitch upon the very word that exactly fits it out of eight or ten words equally common equally intelligible with nearly equal pretensions it is a matter of some nicety and discrimination to pick out the very one the preferableness of which is scarcely perceptible but decisive the reason why I object to Doctor Johnson's style is that there is no discrimination no selection no variety in it he uses none but tall opaque words taken from the first row of the rubric words with the greatest number of syllables or Latin phrases with merely Enghsh terminations. — 'Hazlitt, On Familiar Style. We do not admire the man of timid peace we admire the man who embodies victorious effort the man who never wrongs his neighbor who is prompt to help a friend but who has those virile qualities necessary to win in the stern strife of actual Hfe it is hard to faU. but it is worse never to have tried to succeed in this Ufe we get nothing save by effort freedom from effort in the present merely means that there has been stored up effort in the past a man 54 FRESHMAN RHETORIC or his fathers before him have worked to good purpose if the freedom thus purchased is used aright and the man still does actual work though of a different kind whether as a writer or a general whether in the field of pohtics or in the field of exploration and adventure he shows be deserves his good fortune but if he treats this period of freedom from the need of actual labor as a period not of preparation but of mere enjoyment even though perhaps not of vicious enjoyment he shows that he is simply a cumberer of the earth's surface and he surely unfits himself to hold his own with his fellows if the need to do so should again arise. — Theodore Roosevelt, The Strenuous Life. The sense for human superiority ought then to be considered our line, as boring subways is the engineer's line and the surgeon's is appendicitis our colleges ought to have lit up in us a lasting relish for the better kind of man a loss of appetite for mediocrities and a disgust for cheapjacks we ought to smell as it were the difference of quaUty in men and their proposals when we enter the world of affairs about us expertness in this might well atone for some of our awkwardness at accounts for some of our ignorance of dynamos, the best claim we can make for the higher education the best smgle phrase in which we can tell what it ought to do for us is then exactly what I said it should enable us to know a good man when we see him. — William James, The Social Value of tlie College-Bred. 51. Compound sentence with complex clauses. A com- pound sentence frequently has a complex clause as one of its coordinate parts. References to scriptural characters and incidents are not conspicuous in Shakespeare's plays, but, such as they are, they are drawn from all parts of the Bible, and indicate that general accjuaintance with the narrative of both Old and New Testaments which a clever boy would be certain to acquire either in the schoolroom or at church on Sundays. — Sidney Lee, Life of William Shakespeare. In this sentence the two coordinate clauses are "References . . . are not conspicuous . . ." and "they are drawn . . . and indi- cate . . ." The second of these clauses is of complex structure, having the two dependent clauses "such as they are" and "which a clever boy would be certain to acquire ..." Note that a GOOD SENTENCES 55 sentence of this sort is more compact and more coherent than a series of simple sentences such as the following inferior version: References to scriptural characters and incidents are not conspicuous in Shakespeare's plays. There are, however, some such references. They are drawn from all parts of the Bible. They indicate only a general acquaintance with the narrative of the Old and New Testaments. Such an acquaintance a clever boy would be certain to acquire either in the schoolroom or at church on Sundays. 52. Complex sentence with compound clauses. A com- plex sentence may have as its dependent clause a compound clause setting forth a series of parallel assertions. We disapprove, we repeat, of the execution of Charles; not because the constitution exempts the king from responsibiUty, for we know that all such maxims, however excellent, have their exceptions; nor because we feel any peculiar interest in his character, for we think that his sentence describes him with perfect justice as "a tyrant, a traitor, a murderer, and a pubhc enemy"; but because we are convinced that the measure was most injurious to the cause of freedom. — Macaulay, Essay on Milton. Here the principal clause, "We disapprove of the execution of Charles," has depending on it three parallel clauses, of which the first and second are compound. Moreover, each of these dependent clauses contains within itself another dependent clause: in the first, the clause introduced by "we know that"; in the second, the clause introduced by "we feel that"; in the third, the clause introduced by "we are convinced that." Here there is complexity within complexity; yet the sentence as a whole is perfectly clear. Grammatical complexity in expert hands often makes for brevity and simpUcity. Observe the somewhat inferior effect produced by breaking up this one sent- ence into six, five of them complex: We disapprove, we repeat, of the execution of Charles. Our disapproval is not based on the principle that the constitution exempts the king from responsibility. We know that all such maxims, however excellent, have 56 FRESHMAN RHETORIC their exceptions. Nor do we disapprove because we feel any peculiar inter- est in his character. On the contrary we think that his sentence describes him with perfect justice as "a tyrant, a traitor, a murderer, and a public enemy." The sole reason why we disapprove of his execution is that we are convinced that the measure was most injurious to the cause of freedom. This version is longer and less effective than the original, lacking the clear and forceful threefold formula "not because . . . nor because . . . but because." The poorest possible way of set- ting down these ideas would be in a series of nine or more simple sentences, as for example in the following crude version:. We disapprove of the execution of Charles. We repeat this assertion. The constitution does indeed exempt the king from responsibility. But we do not disapprove of the execution on that ground. AU such maxims have their exceptions. Nor do we disapprove of the execution on account of any peculiar interest in Charles's character. His sentence describes him with perfect justice as "a tyrant, a traitor, a murderer, and a public enemy." But in our opinion his execution was most injurious to the cause of freedom. That is the reason for our disapproval of the act. Here we have real difficulty in eliminating all complex structure, in reducing to the uncorrected forms of immature expression the highly organized thought of a careful writer. Simple sent- iences have their place in all good writing. They are indis- pensable for emphasis and variety. On the other hand, the mastery of the right kind of complex sentence enables a writer to display most compactly and effectively the larger relations of thought. Properly constructed complex sentences are nearly always shorter than the ecjuivalent group of simple sentences, make clearer the subordination of one thought to another, and give smoothness to what might otherwise become a jerky and explosive paragraph. For one more example study the following passage, the subject of which is the character of the cultivated man: He has the repose of a mind which lives in itself, while it lives in the world, and which has resources for its happiness at home when it cannot go abroad. He has a gift which serves him in public, and supports him in GOOD SENTENCES 57 retirement, without which good fortune is but vulgar, and with which failure and disappointment have a charm. The art which tends to make a man all this is in the object which it pursues as useful as the art of wealth or the art of health, though it is less susceptible of method, and less tangible, less certain, less complete in its result. — Newman, The Aim of University Training. Into these three complex sentences there are compressed, by means of dependent clauses skilfully combined, some nine or more distinct assertions, each of which a less practiced writer might make into an independent sentence. Further study of the syntax of compound and complex sentences in good prose will reveal to the student how often such sentences achieve not dif- fuseness but brevity, not obscurity but clearness, not weakness but force. 53. Parallel structure. A principle of much importance in all types of sentence, but especially of sentences combining several distinct elements in a series, is called the principle of parallel structure. Whenever two or more elements in a sen- tence are parallel in meaning, they should be parallel in form. If one is a phrase, the others should be phrases; if one is a clause, the others should be clauses of the same type. In the following erroneous sentences some common violations of this general principle are shown, with corrections: Wrong: Strikes are responsible for disorder, for loss of wages, and they cause much disturbance of industry. Right: Strikes are responsible for disorder, for loss of wages, and for much disturbance of industry. Wrong: The company was reorganized in order to get more capital, in order to eHminate certain inefficient officers, and because a new statute required a change in the representation of stockholders. Right: The company was reorganized in order to get more capital, in order to eUminate certain inefficient officers, and in order to comply with a new statute requiring a change in the representation of stockholders. Wrong: The reasons for their failure were their inability to get the neces- sary books, their delay in beginning the reading, and also because they lacked sufficient preparation. 58 FRESHMAN RHETORIC Right: The reasons for their failure were their inability to get the neces- sary books, their delay in beginning the reading, and their lack of sufficient preparation. Right: The reasons for their failure were that they were unable to get the necessary books, that they delayed beginning the reading, and that they lacked sufficient preparation. Right: They failed because they could not get the necessary books, because they delayed their reading, and because they were not well prepared. 54. Exercise in sentence-building. Select as a starting- point one of the simple sentences given below, or a similar one of two or three words. Choose a subject about which you have some ideas. 1. Birds migrate. Ii. Poetry flourishes. 2. Food was scarce. I2. Fashions are absurd. 3. Fraternities compete. 13. Chemistry is important. 4. Travel is ex]3ensive. 14. Ireland is divided. 5. Newspapers exaggerate. 15. Forests have disappeared. 6. Football is popular. 16. Prohibition is vmpopular. 7. Aeroplanes have improved. 17. ProfessionaUsm injures sport. 8. Music is appreciated. 18. Good tools pay. 9. Roads wear out. 19. Sleep restores. ID. Milk is nutritious. 20. Statistics deceive. Upon such a sentence as a basis, write a series of ten numbered sentences, of the grammatical forms indicated in the following specifications. The illustrative examples given are based on the sentence "Advertising pays." In framing these sentences care should be taken to write sense, not nonsense or trivialities, and to punctuate according to the rules and principles already laid down. I. Write a simple sentence containing an adjective phrase modifying the subject and an adverbial phrase modifying the verb. Advertising of the right sort pays even in hard times. GOOD SENTENCES 59 2. Write a simple sentence with a compound predicate. Magazine advertising has grown enormously since 1890, and has become the chief source of the publishers' revenue. 3. Write a compound sentence of two coordinate clauses joined by but. Lavish advertising will sell even a poor article for a few weeks, but false claims will ruin the dishonest advertiser in the end.- 4. Change the previous sentence into the complex form. False claims will ruin the dishonest advertiser in the end, though lavish advertising will sell even a poor article for a few weeks. Reverse the order of the clauses, and decide which is better. 5. Write a compound sentence of two coordinate clauses joined by for. A national advertising campaign should not be undertaken without adequate capital, for it takes time to make an impression on the pubUc mind. 6. Change the previous sentence to a complex sentence beginning with a dependent clause introduced by since. Since it takes time to make an impression on the pubUc mind, a national advertising campaign should not be undertaken without adequate capital. 7. Reverse the dependent and the principal clause in the preceding sentence, introducing the dependent clause with because. A national advertising campaign should not be undertaken without ade- quate capital because it takes time to make an impression on the pubhc mind. Compare the two arrangements as to effectiveness. 8. Write a compound sentence stating in the first clause a reason or cause, and in the second clause an inference or result introduced by hence or therefore. In many offices and households printed circulars and handbills are thrown into the wastebasket unread; hence this kind of advertising is of Uttle value. 9. Turn the same idea as that of the previous compound sentence into a simple sentence, placing the reason or cause in 6o FRESHMAN RHETORIC an adverbial phrase beginning with because of or on account of or owing to A Advertising by circulars and handbills is of little value, owing to the custom in many ofi&ces and households of throwing such matter into the wastebasket unread. lo. Write a complex sentence containing at least three dependent clauses in parallel structure, all beginning with the same conjunction — that, if, although, because, or some other subordinating conjunction. The advertising manager's explanation of this disappointing result was that the campaign was begun a month too late; that it ended a month too soon; that more money was spent on display and less on follow-up methods than was reaUy necessary; and that unexpected competition had developed against which there was no opportunity to prepare. Although the agency had large balances in the banks, although its manager had the confidence of the business men of the city, although large orders were almost in sight, yet because of this controversy it was deemed best to dissolve the partnership and go out of business. 55. Sentences shoiild begin and end strongly. Emphasis requires that a sentence should begin and end with words or phrases of relative importance. A weak ending is worse than a weak beginning, but both should be avoided. By transposing a phrase or clause from one position to another it is often pos- sible to achieve not only a strong close but a more coherent effect throughout. In the revision of a first draft, rather than in the initial process of composition, such a shifting of elements is best accomplished. Let us examine a few weak sentences taken from freshman themes, in order to see how easily the defect may often be removed : Weak: Obviously, if the driving is to be mostly in the country over rough roads, a tire that is especially tough and sturdy should be purchased. 1 Not due to. The word due is normally an adjective, correctly used in an adjective phrase modifying a noun, or as a predicate complement. "The accident, due to a broken rail, caused a long delay." "The long delay was due to an accident." Although the use of due to as a prepositional phrase introducing an adverbial phrase of cause is becoming common, the best writers have not as yet adopted it. Sentences beginning ^vith due to are particularly objectionable. GOOD SENTENCES 6i Better: For rough country roads a tire should be chosen that is especially tough and sturdy. Weak: This plan has the advantage of allowing the work to be done when the corn is just in the right condition, in which it remains for a few days only. Better: This plan has the advantage of allowing the work to be done during the few days when the com is in just the right condition. Weak: Sometimes this becomes an undesirable task, but he is always glad to do it, and tries to appear so. Better: Undesirable as this task sometimes becomes, he tries always to perform it cheerfully. Weak: Chemistry makes the removal of such stains as mildew by javelle water and iron rust by oxalic acid comparatively easy. Better: Chemistry makes comparatively easy the removal of such stains as mildew by javelle water and of iron rust by oxahc acid. Weak: Public health work of all kinds also affords opportunities for service of an extensive kind. Better: PubUc health work also affords extensive opportunities for service. Weak: He could, I believe, say the most in the fewest words of any man who wrote during the war. Better: Of all the war poets he could say the most in the fewest words. Weak: Although quite as adept in sarcasm as Sassoon, Service lent a charming bit of humor and a joyous lilt to his verse, seemingly originated by him. Better: Service, though quite as adept as Sassoon in sarcasm, lent to his verse a charming bit of humor, and a joyous hit that was all his own. 56. Rearrangement often improves coherence. In such revision of sentences as that suggested for the sake of emphasis, it will often be found that the shifting of phrases and clauses also improves coherence. Modifying words (such as only), phrases, and clauses should always be as near as possible to the word modified. Not in rapid writing, but in the careful reading over (preferably aloud) of what we have written, various mis- placements or dislocations are discovered, which it is then our business to correct. 62 FRESHMAN RHETORIC Wrong: It is impossible to estimate the value of Bell's work on the telephone too highly. Wrong: The direct election of senators has not only increased the use of money in senatorial campaigns but also the choice of unfit men. Wrong: Changes in the personnel of the orchestra have improved the musical quality of its work perceptibly, especially among the wood wind players. Wrong: Some roads are showing signs of wear already, constructed within the past year. Wrong: Since the completion of the building much time has been spent in equipping laboratories for the new courses in industrial chemistry, which will cost many thousands of dollars. 57. Exercise in rearrangement of sentences for emphasis and coherence, (i) Go carefully through a theme previously written, noting the beginning and the end of each sentence. Wherever a stronger beginning or ending can be produced by transposition of a word or phrase, draw a loop around it con- nected by a line with a caret at the point of insertion. If more than one such change has to be made in a single sentence, it will be clearer to rewrite the sentence between the lines, or in the margin. (2) Go carefully through the theme a second time, searching for words, phrases, and clauses separated from the words which they modify. Transpositions for coherence may be indicated in the same way as above suggested. Note par- ticularly the position of only and not only with reference to the words with which they are logically connected. In this revision for coherence it may sometimes be necessary to cancel superfluous words or to change the phraseology slightly, but no general rewriting of the theme should be undertaken except for this one matter of the order of words in the sentence. By concentrating attention on arrangement, one may learn much that will be of value in future work. 58. Exercise in criticism of sentence structure in newspaper English. Select from the daily newspapers or from a college periodical ten sentences which are conspicuously bad in syntax, whether because of violation of grammatical rules or because of GOOD SENTENCES 63 poor arrangement. Copy each sentence in its original form, and rewrite it in an improved form varying no more than is necessary from the original. Be prepared in every case to state what the error is, and why the correction is better. Suggested Assignments Assignment 6. Study sections 32-38. In order to test your mastery of the grammatical distinctions among sentence types, examine the syntax of the twenty-two sentences in the first section of Chapter I of this book (four paragraphs). Be prepared to state whether each sentence is simple, compound, or complex. If, as often happens, a compound sentence has complex clauses, or a complex sentence has a compound dependent clauie, decide which type is fundamental. The deciding point is that a complex sentance has never more than one principal clause, whereas a compound sentence has always two or more parallel coordinate clauses. Be prepared also to distinguish phrases and clauses according to their function in the sentence as noun phrases or clauses, adjective phrases or clauses, adverbial phrases or clauses. Assignment 7. Study sections 39-49. Perform the exercise in section 50 by inserting in pencil the proper punctuation of the passages printed in the text. Capitals may be indicated by drawing three short parallel lines under the first letter of the word which begins a new sentence. After punc- tuating a passage, read it aloud to test the soundness of the punctuation, revising as may be necessary. The most important thing in this exercise is to observe scrupulously the rules for the punctuation of compound and com- plex sentences (sections 39 and 42), and to use no unnecessary commas. Assignment 8. Study sections 51-53. Write the ten sentences required in section 54. Assignment 9. Study sections 55 and 56. Perform the exercise named in section 57. Assignment 10. Hand in the exercise prescribed in section 58. CHAPTER IV EXPOSITION OF PRINCIPLES AND OPINIONS 59. Exposition of more advanced subjects. After some study and practice in the difficult art of writing good sentences, we are ready to undertake another complete composition. In Chapter II, the task was the exposition of a simple, concrete, tangible subject. Most of the topics offered for selection were chosen from familiar aspects of daily life — buildings, machin- ery, farming, sports, social welfare work, and the like. From the experience then gained in the selection and arrangement of material for interesting exposition we should' now be able to derive suitable methods for treating harder subjects. By harder subjects are not meant subjects that involve the con- sultation of books or the study of new material; but rather those subjects which are hard because they seem so easy. Such are subjects based upon the expression of opinions, com- parisons, principles. At first it seems a simpler thing to ex- plain "Why I am a Republican" than to tell a novice how to sail a boat or catch a trout. To compare mechanical and chemical engineering as fields for young men choosing a vocation may appear an easy task, if one does not look far into what it involves. But such subjects, just because they are in reality not easier but harder to discuss intelligently and interestingly, present a greater challenge to the mind. From the list that follows, or from similar subjects approved in advance by the instructor, a subject should be chosen for the next exposition. 60. Subjects for exposition of principles and opinions. 1. College Friendships 2. The Value of College Traditions 64 EXPOSITION OF PRINCIPLES AND OPINIONS 65 3. College Singing s 4. The Enjoyment of Good Music '^ 5. Manual Work for Intellectual Workers 6. The Best Way to Spend Sunday ^ 7. What Does an Honor System Involve? 8. Is Hygiene Well Taught in the Public Schools? 9. Literary Standards, Real and Pretended 10. The Reform of Dancing ^11. Saving Money 12. College Students and the Churches 13. Judging Character by Personal Appearance 14. Keeping Up with the News 15. Silence in the College Library 16. Bleacher Athletics 17. Why Few First-Rate Men Go into Politics 18. The Growth of Interdenominational Spirit 19. Church Union in Villages and Small To\vns 20. The Future of the Country Newspaper ^21. The Dechne of Courtesy toward Women 22. Telephones and Bad Manners 23. Snobs 24. Bores and How to Deal with Them 25. A Dollar's Worth of Education 26. The Meaning of October 27. Boosters Good and Bad ' 28. City Clubs and PubUc Spirit • 29. Visual Instruction 30. Social Centers in Public Schools 31. The Rural School Problem 32. The Principles of Cost Accounting 33. How My Denomination Differs from Others 34. The Actual Present Principles of My Political Party 35. What Religion Means to Me 36. Past and Present Opportunities in My Future Vocation 37. What is the Most Important Quality in a Good Teacher? 38. Music as a Career 39. Can Nature Study Be Taught? 40. Principles of Composition Applied to Sketching 41. Jealousy among Professional Men 42. Do Newspapers Misrepresent Our Civilization? 66 FRESHMAN RHETORIC 43. Medical Missions in Foreign Lands 44. Recent Changes in Stage Decoration and Lighting 45. The Training of the Memory 46. Limitations of the Lecture Method of Teaching A 47. Is Home Life Disappearing? 48. How a Bashful Person Can Make Friends 49. Organizations for Non-Fraternity Students 50. The Basis of Municipal Provision for Public Recreation 61. Exposition, not argument, is the aim. On many of these subjects the writer's opinion will be at variance with that of some of his probable readers. Proof, however, of debatable points is not to be here attempted, at least not to such an extent as to try to convince an obstinate opponent. Later on in the year argumentation will be studied, with some introduction to those methods of analysis and of proof and refutation which are indispensable to controversial writing. For the present it will be well if attention is centered on the single aim to make one's opinion clear, and to distinguish it from other opinions com- monly held. In discussing, for example, the question "What Does an Honor System Involve?" there is a natural tendency to argue for or against the system itself; and at this stage such an attempted argument is almost sure to consist of unsupported contentions devoid of evidence. But it is possible, and indeed highly beneficial, to hold oneself rigidly to explaining what an honor system involves, besides the mere agreement of the student body to refrain from dishonesty. An exposition of Republican or Democratic or Socialist principles need not pro- ceed by the method of attack upon other parties ; it may much more profitably consist of an attempt to discover wherein the real working policy of the party at the present time differs from the professions of its platform. "The Best Way to Spend Sunday" is a subject on which opinions will differ widely; and might seem to lead at once into an argument for or against the necessity of studying on Sunday, for or against regular attend- EXPOSITION OF PRINCIPLES AND OPINIONS 67 ance at church. But an equally interesting undertaking, that which is suggested at this time, is, while recognizing at the outset that people differ as to these and other matters, to lay down a few principles on which all might agree — for example, that Sunday should be somehow different from the rest of the week, and better. In short, let controversial aspects of the subject be recognized as such, and set aside as they arise. 62. The mental inventory still useful. In Chapter II, analyzing so elementary a theme as the use of a typewriter, we found it advantageous to begin by collecting a wide variety of miscellaneous bits of information and unanswered questions in what was called a mental inventory. Much of this material had to be discarded; all of it had to be rearranged; but as a preparation for the actual outline it demonstrated its value. Now that we come to a more advanced type of exposition, having to do not with material objects and industrial processes but with principles and opinions, this preliminary examination of the contents of our minds is more necessary than before. Many persons suppose that in order to write on a general subject like "Good Citizenship" or "What is Success?" they have only to set down a string of harmless commonplaces, so trite and so often uttered that they are easy to write almost without thinking. Such writing as that is worse than useless. It deceives the writer into thinking that he has said something because he has covered three or four pages with statements which nobody can deny. The reader of such platitudes may perhaps remark to the writer, as Holmes did to the katydid, "Thou say'st an undisputed thing In such a solemn way." If we are to write at all on subjects like these, we must first of all eliminate the obvious. We must get rid of the common- place, self-evident ideas that drift most easily into our common- place minds. The only way to do that is to write them down 68 FRESHMAN RHETORIC as fast as they arise, hoping that now and then in the stream of thought a really fresh idea may rise to the surface. This is the justification of the written mental inventory, as a substitute for that vague, day-dreaming reverie into which we too easily fall. The pencil helps the brain; paper is cheaper than nervous tissue; therefore let us once more approach the problem of composition armed with a large memorandum-pad. Suppose the starting-point to be "College Spirit." Write it down; and after it write the three questions that precede the writing of any composition based on an assignment: Why should I write about this? What have I to say about it? How shall I say it? To the first question the answers may be various; for example College spirit is at a low ebb in this college. College spirit is something in which I admit that I am deficient. College spirit would help to make a winning team. College spirit is a phrase much misused. These are some of the possible reasons why one might desire to clarify one's own thinking about college spirit, in preparation for bringing one's mature thought to the attention of others. The audience in mind is a college audience; the motive is to help to attain the benefits which true college spirit properly applied may bring to the college community. In order to answer the second question — "What have I to say about it?" — another list of questions, already introduced in Chapter II, will prove suggestive: Who? What? When? Where? How? Why? The inventory now proceeds by means of written answers to questions asked mentally. In the following illustration of a mental inventory on "College Spirit" the written answers appear in the right-hand column; the unwritten questions being here supplied, for clearness, in the left-hand column. EXPOSITION OF PRINCIPLES AND OPINIONS 69 College Spirit Who ought to have it? What is it? When ought it to be shown? Where ought it to be shown? How ought it to be shown? How can it be developed? Why is it important? Who ought to have college spirit? Divide the students What students in particular? Why freshmen in particular? What freshmen in particular? Divide the freshmen College students Freshmen Sophomores Juniors Seniors Graduate students Professional students Freshmen m particular Freshmen ought to start right Freshmen ought to leain college traditions Freshmen ought to show uppei- classmen that they are superior to the sophomores Freshmen are the audience I am writing for I am a freshman myself TFreshmen from large and famous preparatory schools Freshmen from city high schools Freshmen from small country schools {Rich freshmen Poor freshmen Freshmen of limited means 'Freshmen who do no outside work Freshmen who do some work for ■I extra pocket-money Freshmen who have to support them- selves entirely 70 FRESHMAN RHETORIC ''Athletic freshmen Freshmen who have no interest in Who else besides students? What alumni in particular? Divide the alumni Who else besides students and alumni? Why faculty? Who believes that? Why not all the professors? Divide the professors ■I athletics Freshmen who take a mild interest in watching games Freshmen who put their studies first Freshmen who put their studies last Freshmen who try to strike a reason- able balance between studies and other college interests J Freshmen pledged to fraternities I Neutral freshmen Alumni ('Young alumni s Middle-aged alumni ^Old alumni {Rich alumni Poor alumni Alumni of limited means {Business men Professional men {Former athletes Alumni never interested in athletics Faculty College spirit is just as important for the college as books and lec- tures All students and some professors CYoung instructors Middle-aged assistant professors and professors Old professors ('Teachers of arts subjects < Teachers of science ^Teachers in professional schools : EXPOSITION OF PRINCIPLES AND OPINIONS 71 Why then do not all the faculty members agree that college spirit is important? A different idea? Doesn't every- body know what it is? Divide my idea of college spirit What other elements could there be in college spirit? Divide the col- lege activities {Teachers who are alumni of this col- lege Teachers who are alumni of other colleges J Teachers whose tenure is temporary I Teachers whose tenure is permanent (Teachers who have recently come Teachers who have been here for years 'Teachers who like to play games Teachers who like to watch games Teachers who care nothing for ath- letics or sports Some because they are too old Some because they are too busy Some because they are more inter- ested in other colleges Some because they have never cared anything foi athletics Some because they have a different idea of what college spirit is Cheering at the games Going to watch the teams practice Going to out-of-town games Playing on a second team if you can't get on the first Going out for musical clubs or some other college activity if you aren't an athlete Encouraging inter-class rivalries Boosting for the college Running down other colleges Athletics Musical clubs Dramatic clubs College journalism Class social events Fraternities Alumni associations 72 FRESHMAN RHETORIC What else? Why of course? Why not? Who supposes that? Who else? Who else? What might college spirit mean for people like those? How could it? Divide learning according to motives Express the three classes quantita- tively Which of these three has anything to do with college spirit as I under- stand it? No, you won't quit yet. Ask 't again: What has learning to do with college spirit? Divide learn- ing again, this time on the basis of results What has learning to do with public service and citizenship? Studies, of course It would hardly be a college without some study A college is supposed to be a place for learning The faculty Some parents A part of the public They might think it included some interest in learning I don't know Learning because you have to Learning because you like to Learning because, though you don't I like it, you know it leads to some- l thing worth while later on /'Learning as little as possible J Learning as much as possible I Learning just enough to build on it L something more practical None. I'm ready to quit WTiat qualities do college men gener- ally display in later life? Learning makes "grinds" I^carning makes scientists Learning makes writers and scholars Learning makes leaders in business Learning makes leaders in public welfare work ^Learning makes good citizens It seems to give a man a broader idea of his obligations to society Democracy Pubhc spirit Independence ■I Tolerance Co-oj>eration Efficiency Generosity EXPOSITION OF PRINCIPLES AND OPINIONS 73 Have these qualities anything to do with college spirit? Why do you think they might have? Are these quaUties peculiar to college men? Do all college graduates possess them? Then what have they to do with col- lege spirit? Why try to learn anything about col- lege spirit by studying the world in general? How do you make that out? < Except what? Athletics? Glee clubs? Class rushes and hazing? Do they know more than other people? What is it, then, in which college men are different? Who is she? Did they ever see her? Then why do they sing about her? I never thought of it, but they might have They don't seem the kind of things that men would leain solely from books They are not No A college course seems to produce them more often than a business career begun immediately after high-school College is a part of the world in gen- eral, a little world in itself, a cross- section of society Its students come from all classes of society The same motives govern them The same virtues and the same vices are found among them In fact, they are really just the same as other people, except — Something intangible No No No They think so, but nobody believes them They call it Alma Mater The ideal of the college No She stands to them for what they believe to.be the best things in Hfe 74 FRESHMAN RHETORIC What sort of things? Honor Truth Courage Friendship .Service Where do they see these things? In college men of the past — prom- inent alumni In college men of the future — dreams about days to come, col- lege songs, etc. Do they see these things in college men of the present — in their own classmates, and others now in col- lege? How can college spirit include this intangible element? That is still too vague. I get a gen- eral idea but nothing clear enough to write about. When and where can these ideals actually affect the daily life of a freshman a month after he enters college? Divide the ideals — take them one by one, and look for examples Not so clearly; too close to see clearly; will see them some day. Takes time to see these things. By applying to all the elements in college life, including the intel- lectual along with the athletic and the social, the test of these ideals for which the college stands 1. Honor. What is it? Hard to say. Focus the idea by setting down the opposite. Opposite: Dishonor Example: A freshman can re- fuse to lie his way out of a scrape without betraying others. 2. Truth. What is it? Can't be defined. State the opposite. Opposite: Deceit, lie. Example: A freshman can stand out against cheating in tests and composition assignments, without put- ting on a pious air and pos- ing as a saint. EXPOSITION OF PRINCIPLES AND OPINIONS 75 What, then, is college spirit? How does that take the place of cheer- ing at games, sharing in class rival- ries, and all that sort of thing? 3. Courage. Opposite: Cowardice Example : A freshman can take hard knocks without whining in a game, a rush, a class scrap, or any other contest of muscles — or of brains. 4. Friendship. Opposite: Snobbish- ness, selfishness Example: A freshman can be- friend a friendless class- mate who has no natural attractiveness, to keep him from getting discouraged and leaving college before he has really had a chance. 5. Service. Opposite: Laziness Example: A freshman can do some tedious job for his class or for the college, when he knows he will get no thanks if he succeeds, and no pardon if be fails. Name such a job. College spirit is working with a good will for the college, by working with and for all the men and all the ideals that make up the college. It doesn't take the place of them; it includes them and a great deal more; but it is the part that is most likely to be forgotten. 63. Elitninating irrelevant and commonplace matter. In this long, rambling dialogue between the inquiring and the replying mind, between me and myself, there is much that is irrelevant and useless for the immediate purpose. There will be no need for the freshman to offer advice to indifferent alumni or faculty members about their lack of college spirit, though he has by his analysis discovered material bearing upon 76 FRESHMAN RHETORIC them. But it is to be noted that the method of persistent inquiry, repeated division of every new term into three or more parts, is one that ultimately yields results. It may seem a foolish thing to set down brace after brace, and then try to fill in the blanks with different possible divisions of some appa- rently unimportant term. Only in this way, however, are we likely to make much headway with a subject like this. For example, we spent some time trying to find out why some college teachers seem to be lacking in what the undergraduate calls college spirit, and none of that material is likely to be used in the essay; but it was in this connection that we were led for the first time to wonder whether there might be some- thing more in the idea of college spirit than is ordinarily attached to it. If we had begun by asking "What is college spirit?" and had been satisfied with the usual answer, the inventory would have been much shorter, but it would have been worthless. If, now, we undertake to eliminate not only the irrelevant but the obvious part of this material, to cut out what is usually said and therefore does not need to be said again, we shall find that there is still plenty left. The inventory is long enough to permit and require vigorous cutting; that is the value of it. One cannot start out to write on "College Spirit" solely on the negative principle of avoiding commonplaces. Good conversations are not begun by resolving "I must not talk about the weather." Good writing does not arise from the rule "I must not be trite." A superabundance of material of all sorts, among which the trite things are set down as points of departure, leading in unexpected directions, yields a basis for selection. Selection brings success. 64. Beginning by correcting an erroneous or incomplete view. A good way to begin almost any kind of exposition is to to state a popular but incorrect or incomplete view, in order to correct or supplement it. Thus an essay upon patriotism may EXPOSITION OF PRINCIPLES AND OPINIONS 77 • open with the remark that a patriot is often supposed to be a man who always takes off his hat to the flag, and who main- tains the invariable superiority of the American form of govern- ment to any other. A discussion of the cultural element in college education may start by citing the ordinary misconcep- tion of culture as a smattering of foreign languages. So, in this attempt to define college spirit, we may choose to begin by admitting that there is much truth in the current notion of college spirit, as tested by the genuineness with which students support their athletic representatives. This notion is sound so far as it goes; our contention is to be that it does not go far enough. We give it a short first paragraph, instead of spreading it out over the whole composition ; and pass at once to other kinds of college spirit, less considered and less prac- ticed. We have too much else to say to waste time enlarging upon what has been so often said before. 65. Divisions depend on the audience. On such a basis the topic sentence for the first division of the outline is already evident. But beyond that point the mental inventory affords no decisive clew to the second and third divisions. Having canceled as superfluous for our present purpose the portions dealing with alumni and faculty, we scrutinize the remainder of the inventor)'- for hints as to how to proceed. Several pos- sible divisions emerge: I. College spirit is indeed roughly tested by student support of athletics and college customs, but there is much more than that needed to make a good college. II. A good college is a college where men of all sorts learn to study and to play by cooperative competition. III. The spirit of such a college is not so high as the ideals of its best men, nor so low as the aims of its poorest; but Uke any democracy it should strive to raise the average. IV. Freshmen can help in the improvement of college spirit in several concrete ways. 78 FRESHMAN RHETORIC I. College spirit is the spirit of getting together. II. We can get together when the team is winning and all the odds are in our favor; can we get together when everything but the college itself tends to draw us apart? III. Freshmen can get together by helping one another to win all the battles and all the prizes that college life brings to a college man. I. College spirit is not all that it should be in this college, although most of us do our part in the conventional ways. II. We freshmen do not at once grasp the true college spirit, because A. Some of us, coming from large preparatory schools, have not yet outgrown the high-school attitude. B. Others, entering with more money or more influential family connections than their classmates, have not yet learned that these things do not count in the real college spirit. C. Still others are so impressed with their own importance on account of a few high marks or prizes that they cannot see any- thing worth working for in college besides grades and scholar- ships . D. Many of us are too lazy either to play hard or to study hard, and therefore their one idea of college spirit is yeUing for the team. III. Such freshmen — and most of us must admit belonging more or less to one of these classes — may well try to improve the college spirit of the freshman class in these ways: A. By mixing with men from other preparatory schools, dropping or lessening connections with high-school fraternities and outside social circles. B. By ceasing to talk about social prestige, to squander money on luxuries, to snub poorl}^ dressed classmates; and by tr>'ing to live down the fact that they were born great. C. If a man is perfectly sure that he is on the high road toward becoming a "grind," let him break loose once in a while and go to a game or a class meeting instead of to the library, just for the good of his soul. D. If we are doing nothing to excel either with brains or with arms and legs, but only shouting for somebody else to do it for us, then we arc doing less than our share for the college, and the college will do less than we expect for Ub. EXPOSITION OF PRINCIPLES AND OPINIONS 79 IV. If our class should really start a reform of that sort, we should at once demonstrate our superiority to the sophomores, and should turn out three years from now to be the best leaders the college has ever had. 66. Five principles of good exposition. All these methods of treating the subject, and many more, are implicit in the material brought out by the mental inventory. Each of them would need revision and amplification and illustration. We need not carry the process further in order to demonstrate these principles applicable to all expository writing, but particu- larly to exposition of more or less abstract subjects: (i) All possible material dealing even remotely with the subject should be surveyed by the questionnaire method, repeating over and over again the six questions: Who? What? When? Where? How? Why? At every stage when a question cannot be immediately answered, a written division of the topic into sub-topics or sub-classes will probably give the clew. The mark of interrogation and the brace are great mental stimulants. (2) Commonplace, hackneyed material can be best recog- nized as such when it appears in the mental inventory side by side with fresher aspects of the subject. It may be either completely eliminated from the outline proper, or used as a point of departure, as something to be taken for granted and to be used as suggesting more interesting sides of the question. (3) In choosing the main divisions for the outline, the deciding considerations among several possibilities will be freshness and adaptability to the particular audience. (4) Complete sentences with carefully framed predicates are even more important in outlines for themes of this sort than for the simpler and more tangible subjects of Chapter II. (5) Examples and illustrations from real life are the hardest things to get, and the most indispensable for interest and force. This essay, testing one's ability to stimulate and to organize 8o FRESHMAN RHETORIC one's independent thinking, will be of great and permanent value to every freshman who undertakes it with ambition, works it out with thoroughness, and puts it into final form with all the vigor, earnestness, and humor at his command. Better far to do one such task at maximum intensity than to write a dozen perfunctory papers, in none of which appears the true note of personality and genuine self-expression. The question is still "Can you make yourself understood?" You have something to say: find out what it is; decide, deliber- ately and carefully, what is the best way to do it; and then write at top speed until the thing is done. Revise it the next day, in cold blood, when all the glow of creative energy has departed. Disgust and despair will threaten you then; but cheer up: it is a poor thing, but your own. It is you — on paper; you, with all your inarticulate groping after better expression of your thought; you, with your own unique view of what no one else can see in just the same way. It is your best, to-day; and will lead to a better achievement to-morrow. Learning how to write begins by learning how to think, and that takes time; but, unlike most other studies, no step really learned here is ever forgotten. Four or five hours of hard, con- secutive thinking on this composition assignment may mean the beginning of mastery in months and years to come. Suggested Assignments Assignment ii. Read sections 59-62. Choose a subject from the list in section 60, and write a mental inventory, spending at least two hours on the assignment. Consider several possible divisions. Assignment 12. Read Sections 63-66. Write a complete sentence out- line of the subject. Study the outline in order to be able to present the sul)ject orally if called on to do so. Assignment 13. Write a theme of six to eight hundred words based on the outline. CHAPTER V GOOD PARAGRAPHS 67. The paragraph, not the sentence, is the unit of con- nected discourse. In planning a house, the rooms required will determine everything else. Neither the walls and partitions in themselves, nor the individual bricks and boards, are so important. A vestibule, an entrance hall, a living room, a dining-room, a kitchen, so many bedrooms — these are the units which the architect must arrange in accordance with his client's wishes. Paragraphs in an expository composition are like the rooms in a house. Each has its place in the whole structure; each has its proportion to the size of the whole; each has an interior unity of its ownj in the placing of its doors and windows, even in its decoration, its color-scheme. To undertake a piece of writing extending to six or eight hundred words by merely setting one word after another, or one sentence after another, is to fail in this unity of impression. It is true that a practiced writer in rapid composition will not always consciously stop at a certain point with the thought "Now I have finished a paragraph; I must begin a new topic on a new line." But such a writer finds when he reads over his hastily sketched manuscript that somewhere on each closely written page there is discovered a point at which one aspect of the subject is rounded out, and a transition to a new theme is more or less clearly indicated. At these points he marks his paragraph sign (^) and adds such transitional words as may be necessary. His brain has for the most part automatically paragraphed his manuscript in substance, though not in form. 8i 82 FRESHMAN RHETORIC Long practice has taught him to think in paragraphs. Practice is the only way in which that kind of thinking can be learned. Beginners seldom find that they can get good paragraphs by inserting the signs of indention after the writing has been done in one solid block, sentence by sentence. For them it is only the conscious attempt to organize sentences into coherent groups that can give to each paragraph its first essential, unity. In a short composition written on the basis of a good outline, with a paragraph for each main division, a degree of formal mechanical unity in each paragraph is already assured; but there remains the task of fitting together the parts in their relation to the whole. A mechanic setting up a complicated machine has an advantage if the parts have been assorted into piles, corre- sponding to the larger groups or assemblies of the machine. His real problem, however, still remains — fitting the gears together, adjusting the bearings, placing the set-screws and lock- nuts, so that the whole thing when completed will not only run, but run right. Paragraphs based merely upon a sorting of parts, like the workman's boxes full of wheels and springs and bolts, are a stage — a necessary stage — in learning how to make paragraphs that really hang together. 68. A good expository paragraph has usually at least five or six sentences. While the length of paragraphs in good expo- sition varies from one sentence to ten or fifteen, or even more, the average will seldom be under five. Reckoned in words, as already mentioned in Chapter II, the suitable length may be from one to three hundred words. From the standpoint of freshman composition, any paragraph much shorter or much longer than a page of manuscript, or half a page of typewTiting, may be looked upon with suspicion. This rough average, between one hundred and fifty and two hundred words, allows for the statement of the main subject of the paragraph in a topic sentence; for the development of the idea by discussion of GOOD PARAGRAPHS 83 one sort or another; for the enforcement or restatement of the pomt for emphasis; and for such transitional phrases or sentences as will tie it to the paragraphs that precede and follow. The reason why shorter paragraphs are ordinarily defective — with the exceptions named below — is not that a certain number of Unes or inches on the paper must be covered, but that a certain degree of fulness in illustration and development of the topic is essential to clearness, interest, and force. Paragraphs much longer than two hundred words — though common in books and articles by experienced writers — should ordinarily be divided when found in freshman themes; for (i) they are out of propor- tion to the scale of treatment of a brief theme, and (2) they probably owe their length to the admission of material that properly belongs elsewhere. 69. One-sentence paragraphs are sometimes desirable. Less often than in narrative writing (where conversation, for example, is broken into separate paragraphs for every utterance by a different speaker), paragraphs shorter than the average above named are used in exposition for special effects. The following cases illustrate some of these effects aimed at in good one-sentence paragraphs: (i) In many kinds of technical writing, where the purpose is not to discuss a subject, but merely to enumerate the steps in a process, or to give directions for some mechanical or scien- tific operation, each sentence in such a passage may be separately paragraphed. Such paragraphs, like the paragraphs in this section, are often serially numbered. (2) In business letters, which are often a form of exposition, short paragraphs of one or two sentences each, properly con- structed and arranged, often promote clearness and force. (3) In advertisements, which are a combination of exposition and argument, short paragraphs, as well as short sentences, are used for emphasis; and also for the effective typographical 84 FRESHMAN RHETORIC display afforded by the large proportion of white space on the page. (4) In all kinds of expository writing a one-sentence para- graph is proper for announcing the division of a subject into the several heads which form respectively the topics of the succeed- ing paragraphs. Such a formal announcement of the division is seldom necessary in a short written exposition of four or five paragraphs, and when included may well come at the end of the first paragraph; but may be desirable in any composition extend- ing to two thousand words or more. (5) A transitional sentence connecting one part of a subject with another main division ordinarily forms the beginning or the end of a paragraph in short compositions like weekly themes; but in a longer essay such a sentence may be separately para- graphed when it links, not one paragraph with the next, but one whole group of paragraphs with another group. Aside from these exceptions, none of which ordinarily applies to short expository themes, a paragraph of less than five sen- tences is probably too short, because it is undeveloped. 70. Paragraph development means unfolding the ideas implied in, or suggested by, the topic sentence. Since exposi- tion is Hterally the "bringing out" or "setting out" for examina- tion of the parts composing a whole, to expound a topic sentence is to "bring out" what is "folded in" or "implied" in it. In a fully developed outline the material for developing each para- graph from a topic sentence is already provided by the subdivi- sions. When, however, one writes with a skeleton outline enumerating only the main divisions, or without any written outline at all, it is necessary to know how to proceed. There are many methods of paragraph development, including some too subtle to be readily classified or imitated; but among them are about six methods so widely used and so easily grasped that they should be memorized, and practiced on all suitable occasions. GOOD PARAGRAPHS 85 71. A paragraph may be developed by illustration, compari- son or contrast, causes, results, reasons, inferences. These six methods may be defined as follows: ^(i) Development by illustration proceeds by specifying /details derived from the main proposition, or by naming several lexamples which illustrate the meaning of the topic sentence. / ^ (2) Development by comparison likens the situation pre- sented in the topic sentence to another, similar in some respect. Development by contrast names opposite cases or situations. vThe two are of ten combined in the same paragraph. / / (3) Development by causes inquires into the conditions that / have led to the state of affairs presented in the topic sentence; events or tendencies that have produced this outcome. (4) Development by results points out the effects or conse- quences due to the cause named in the topic sentence. ^5) Development by reasons examines the proposition to' /show why it is alleged to be true, naming facts or opinions that Mead the writer to believe the proposition sound. (6) Development by inferences, starting from the topic sen- tence as a premise, assumed or previously defended, proceeds; by stating conclusions or deductions which logically follow. The last two of these are methods regularly employed in argumentation, but often used in non-controversial exposition as well. Notice the distinction between reasons and causes: I Causes answer the question, "How did things come to be as they are?" Reasons answer the question, "Why do I believe this statement to be trueP'jf Notice also the parallel difference between inferences and results: Results answer the question, "What happens, or has happened, because of the situation pre- sented in the topic sentence?" Inferences answer the question, "If I accept the truth of the topic sentence, what more must I believe as a logical consequence of that proposition?" A paragraph developed by results may at the same time pre- sent those results as reasons for accepting the main proposition. 86 FRESHMAN RHETORIC For example, the topic sentence, "Self-support in college is likely to be injurious to scholarship," might be developed by showing some of the results that are alleged to follow from too much outside work, which results are themselves the reasons offered to support the opinion stated in the topic sentence. This again is a method of procedure normal in argumentation, where proof must be offered to confirm the alleged results. When employed in exposition it is too likely to degenerate into unsupported assertion of debatable opinions for which no evidence is suppUed. But in so far as the writer clearly recognizes that his views are subject to attack, though his present purpose is merely to state them clearly, this danger may be avoided. Further treatment of this point must be postponed until we take up the study of argumentation. 72. Examples of paragraph development. The following paragraphs show how these six methods are applied. They should be carefully studied in order that the student may not fall into the error of attempting a purely mechanical application of the principle. I. Development by Illustration Such was the man who, at the age of thirty-three, became headmaster of Rugby. His outward appejirance was the index of his inward character: everything about him denoted energy, earnestness, and the best intentions. His legs, perhaps, were shorter than they should have been; but the sturdy athletic frame, especially when it was swathed (as it usually was) in the flowing robes of a Doctor of Divinity, was full of an imposing vigour; and his head, set decisively upon the collar, stock, and bands of ecclesiastical tradition, clearly belonged to a person of eminence. The thick, dark clusters of his hair, his bushy eyebrows and curling whiskers, his straight nose and bulky chin, his firm and upward-curving lower lip — all these re\-ealed a temperament of ardor and determination. His eyes were blight and large; they were also obviously honest. And yet — why was it? — was it in the lines of the mouth or the frown on the forehead? — it was hard to say, but it was unmistakable — there was a slightly puzzled look upon the face of Dr. Arnold. — Litton ijtrachey, limincitl Victorians. GOOD PARAGRAPHS 87 There is nothing human in nature. The earth, though loved so dearly, would let me perish on the ground, and neither bring forth food nor water. Burning in the sky the great sun, of whose company I have been so fond, would merely burn on and make no motion to assist me. Those who have been in an open boat at sea without water have proved the mercies of the sun, and of the deity who did not give them one drop of rain, dying in misery under the same rays that smile so beautifully on the flowers. In the south the sun is the enemy; night and coolness and rain are the friends of man. As for the sea, it offers us salt water which we cannot drink. The trees care nothing for us; the hill I visited so often in days gone by has not missed me. The sun scorches man, and wiU in his naked state roast him alive. The sea and the fresh water aUke make no effort to uphold him if his vessel founders; he casts up his arms in vain, they come to their level over his head, filUng the spot his body occupied. If he falls from a cliff the air parts; the earth beneath dashes him to pieces. — Richard Jefferies, The Story of My Heart. As the flute is heard farther than the cart, see how surely a beautiful form strikes the fancy of men, and is copied and reproduced without end. How many copies are there of the Belvedere Apollo, the Venus, the Psyche, the Warwick Vase, the Parthenon, and the Temple of Vesta? These are objects of tenderness to all. In our cities, an ugly building is soon removed, and is never repeated, but any beautiful building is copied and improved upon, so that all masons and carpenters work to repair and preserve the agreeable forms, whilst the ugly ones die out. — Emerson, Coridud of Life. I should like to fill several volumes with accounts of various university snobs; so fond are my reminiscences of them, and so numerous are they. I should like to speak, above aU, of the wives and daughters of some of the professor-snobs; their amusements, habits, jealousies, their innocent artifices to entrap young men ; their picnics, concerts, and evening-parties. I wonder what has become of Emily Blades, daughter of Blades, the professor of the Mandingo language? I remember her shoulders to this day, as she sat in the midst of a crowd of about seventy young gentlemen, from Corpus and Catherine Hall, entertaining them with ogles and French songs on the guitar. Are you married, fair Emily of the shoulders? What beautiful ringlets those were that used to dribble over them! — what a waist! — what a killing sea-green shot-silk gown! — what a cameo, the size of a muflSn! There were thirty-six young men of the university in love at one time with Emily Blades; and no words are suflicient to describe the pity, the sorrow, 88 FRESHMAN RHETORIC the deep, deep commiseration — the rage, fury, and uncharitableness, in other words — with which the Miss Trumps (daughter of Trumps, the professor of phlebotomy) regarded her, because she didn't squint, and because she wasn't marked with the small-pox. — Thackeray, The Book of Snobs. ly 2. Development by Comparison and Contrast Of the three buildings the Tower is the oldest and in other ways the most striking. It shares with the castles of Windsor, Avignon, the Palazzo Vecchio, and the Kremlin the rare peculiarity of being a mediaeval fortress of the first class which has not become a ruin or a fragment. But the Tower in its central part is far older than they all. It is neither a ruin nor a museum nor a site. It is used in the nineteenth century as it was in the eleventh — the central fortress of the kingdom which the Normans founded; it still guards the crown of Alfred, the Confessor, the Conqueror; it is still a martial camp, and the guard to this day is changed day and night in the name of the descendant of King Will elm. Its towers recall more episodes in the history and the poetry of our nation than perhaps any other building in the world regarding those of any other nation. It is the one civil building which has stood for eight centuries serving the same dynasty and the same national life in unbroken continuity of service; and in those eight centuries it has known no period of degradation or decay, but rather has witnessed a splendid series of great and memorable deeds. — Frederic Harrison, Historic London. What are the great faults of conversation? Want of ideas, want of words, want of manners, are the principal ones, I suppose you think. I don't doubt it, but I will tell you what I have found spoil more good talks than anything else; long arguments on special points between people who differ on the fundamental principles on which these points depend. No men can have satisfactory relations with each other until they have agreed on certain ultimata of belief not to be disturbed in ordinary conversation, and unless they have sense enough to trace the secondary questions depending upon these ultimate beliefs to their source. In short, just as a written constitution is essential to the best social order, so a code of finalities is a necessary con- dition of profitable talk between two persons. Talking is like playing on the harp; there is as much in laying the hand on the strings to stop a vibration as in twanging them to bring out their music. — Holmes, The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table, GOOD PARAGRAPHS 89 3. Development by Causes The fortunes of Essex had now reached their height, and began to decline. He possessed indeed all the qualities which raise men to greatness rapidly. But he had neither the virtues nor the vices which enable men to retain greatness long. His frankness, his keen sensibility to insult and injustice, were by no means agreeable to a sovereign naturally impatient of opposition, and accustomed, during forty years, to the most extravagant flattery and the most abject submission. The daring and contemptuous manner in which he bade defiance to his enemies excited their deadly hatred. His administra- tion in Ireland was unfortunate, and in many respects highly blamable. Though his brilliant courage and his impetuous activity fitted him admirably for such enterprises as that of Cadiz, he did not possess the caution, patience, and resolution necessary for the conduct of a protracted war, in which difl5- culties wore to be gradually surmounted, in which much discomfort was to be endured, and in which few splendid exploits could be achieved. For the civil duties of his high place he was still less qualified. Though eloquent and accomplished, he was in no sense a statesman. The multitude indeed still continued to regard even his faults with fondness. But the Court had ceased to give him credit, even for the merit which he really possessed. The person on whom, during the decline of his influence, he chiefly depended, to whom he confided his perplexities, whose advice he solicited, whose interces- sion he employed, was his friend Bacon. The lamentable truth must be told. This friend, so loved, so trusted, bore a principal part in ruining the Earl's fortunes, in shedding his blood, and in blackening his memory. — Macaulay, Essay on Bacon. After all, the most serious question of discipline in the college of to-day is how to get from our students intellectual work. Want of responsibility to work rather than radical dishonesty is at the root of such dishonest acts as I have described. In the attitude toward work a considerable number of students are still boys and not men. It is only in athletics that some of them recognize the flimsiness of excuses, the necessity of hard training, the responsibiHty of duty day by day, the meanness of the "quitter." As to excuses, I have heard a college oflicer whose business it is to pass on them described as "a man you lie to and get mad with for not believing you;" and this definition shows how dexterously the unthinking student uses in college morals a double standard, and how flexible he is in transforming himself from man to boy and from boy to man, according to his own immedi- ate advantage. The most searching temptation of a freshman when he first finds himself turned loose in a university is the temptation to idleness. 90 FRESHMAN RHETORIC Some freshmen act as if in entering college they had scaled the mountain of life and had nothing to do but to picnic on the summit. Their natural desire to get into tliis or that club, their knowledge that they cannot get into it without wide acquaintance, and their belief that wide acquaintance involves free use of social hours at all times of the day, lead them to loafing. Thus far the influence of the club is bad, though later a clubman may be upheld in his work and driven to his work by those members of the club who see his danger. The radical difficulty about work among students comes, in pait, from the prevalent theory of education through which boys and young men have things done for them, sometimes for their amusement, sometimes for their information, instead of being taught to do things for themselves. I lately talked with an intelligent and delightful sophomore who had excused himself for absence on the ground that he had gone with a sick companion to a "phizician." I cheerfully accepted his excuse, but told him that I did not like to see him spell physician in that way. "I know," he repUed, "I didn't know how to spell that word; mamma wasn't at home; and I didn't know." Yet this boy came from a school recognized as among the best, and from educated parents; and even in Boston, mamma, when she goes out, leaves the dictionary behind her. Possibly he was like the other student who said, "What's the use of looking in the dictionary for a word if you don't know the letter it begins with?" — LeBaron R. Briggs, Routine and Ideals. 4. Development by Results The greatest change of the last hundred years is, no doubt, that which the plow has wrought in the aspect of the downs. There is a certain pleasure to the eye in the wide fields of golden com, especially of wheat, in July and August; but a plowed down is a down made ugly, and it strikes one as a mistake even from the purely economic point of view that this old, rich turf, the slow product of centuries, should be ruined forever as sheep-pasture, when so great an extent of uncultivated land exists elsewhere, especially the heavy clays of the midlands, better suited for com. The effect of break- ing up the turf of the liigh downs is often disastrous; the thin soil, which was preserved by the close, hard turf, is blown or washed away, and the soil becomes poorer year by year in spite of dressing, until it is hardly worth cultivating. Clover may be grown on it, but it continues to deteriorate; or the tenant or landlord may turn it into a rabbit-warren, the most fatal policy of all. How hideous they are — those great stretches of down-land enclosed in big wire fences or rabbit-netting, with little but wiry weeds, moss, and lichen growing on them, the earth dug up everywhere by the disorderly GOOD. PARAGRAPHS 91 little beasts! For a while there is a profit — "It will serve my time," the owner says — but the end is utter barrenness. — -W, H. Hudson, The Shepherd's Life. There is nothing so important as the choice of friendship; for it both reflects character and affects it. A man is known by the company he keeps. This is an infallible test; for his thoughts and desires and ambitions and loves are revealed here. He gravitates naturally to his congenial sphere. And it affects character; for it is the atmosphere he breathes. It enters his blood and makes the circuit of his veins. "AU life assimilates to what it loves." A man is moulded into hkeness of the lives that come nearest him. It is at the point of the emotions that he is most impressionable. The material surroundings, the outside lot of a man affects him, but after all, that is material and outside; for the higher functions of life may be served m almost any external circumstances. But the environment of other lives, the com- munion of other souls, are far more potent facts. The nearer people are to each other, and the less disguise there is in their relationship, the more invariably will the law of spiritual environment act. — Hugh Black, Friendship. , 5. Development by Reasons Now, to be properly enjoyed, a walking tour should be gone upon alone. If you go in a company, or even in pairs, it is no longer a walking tour in anything but name; it is something else and more in the nature of a picnic. A walking tour should be gone upon alone, because freedom is of the essence; because you should be able to stop and go on, and follow this way or that, as the freak takes you; and because you must have your own pace, and neither trot alongside a champion walker, nor mince in time with a girl. And then you must be open to all impressions and let your thoughts take color from what you see. You should be as a pipe for any wind to play upon. "I cannot see the wit," says Hazlitt, "of walking and talking at the same time. When I am in the country I wish to vegetate like the country," — which is the gist of all that can be said upon the matter. There should be no cackle of voices at your elbow, to Jar on the meditative silence of the morning. And so long as a man is reasoning he cannot surrender himself to that fine intoxication that comes of much motion in the open air, that begins in a sort of dazzle and sluggishness of the brain, and ends in a peace that passes comprehension, — R. L. Stevenson, Walking Tours. 92 FRESHMAN RHETORIC Almost the whole of the bottom of this central plain (which extends for many hundred miles in a north and south direction) is covered by a fine mud, which, when brought to the surface, dries into a grayish-white friable substance. You can write with this on a blackboard, if you are so inclined; and to the eye it is quite like very soft grayish chalk. ' Examined chemically, it proves to be composed almost wholly of carbonate of lime; and if you make a section of it, in the same way as that of the piece of chalk was made, and view it with the microscope, it presents innumerable Glohigerinae embedded in a granular matrix. Thus this deep-sea mud is substantially chalk. I say, substantially, because there are a good many minor differences; but as these have no bearing on the question immediately before us — which is the nature of the Clobigerinae of the chalk, — it is unnecessary to speak of them. — Huxley, On a Piece of Chalk. 6. Development by Inferences In football, tennis, billiards, leap-frog, shooting, fishing, boxing, wrestling, fencing, chess, whist, hide-and-seek, — the fascinating variety of "gives" and "takes" is clear. But this is not so true of rowing, bicycling, sailing, swimming, skating, coasting, and track athletics, for it is now with inanimate antagonists that we engage. Oar and water hit or miss each other as we row, but it is not a very vital sort of conversation. Ice is still less various and responsive. When we come to track athletics, we must confess that the running-track and the ground from which the jumper "takes oflf" as he rises, can hardly be said to respond at all. It is because these sports are lacking in give-and-take that men rarely sprint or jump merely for the fun of it. Hence competition is left as the heart and soul of all track athletics and marks them hereby as inferior to games like baseball and whist, which contain a back-and-forth element. There is mighty little fun in a mile run or a hammer-throw unless you win. It is hard work and soon grows monotonous. In other words, it is not the best sort of play. — Richard C. Cabot, What Men Live By. One of the most interesting facts concerning the arts of all kinds is that those who wish to give their lives to them do not appear where the appliances for instruction in them exist. An artistic atmosphere does not create artists; a literary atmosphere does not create literators; poets and painters spring up where there was never a verse made or a picture seen. This suggests that God is no more idle now than He was at the beginning, but that He is still and forever shaping the human chaos into the instruments GOOD PARAGRAPHS 93 and means of beauty. It may also suggest to that scholar-pride, that vanity of technique, which is so apt to vaunt itself in the teacher, that the best he can do, after all, is to let the pupil teach himself. If he comes with divine authority to the thing he attempts, he wiU know how to use the appUances, of which the teacher is only the first. — W. D. Howells, Literature and Life. 73. Exercise in paragraph development. Choosing a topic sentence from the following list, write four detached paragraphs, each beginning with the topic sentence: the first developed by illustration, the second by comparison or contrast, the third by causes, the fourth by results. The four paragraphs should be separated by spaces or dashes in order to indicate that they are not intended as a connected series, but as four different ways of developing the same proposition. ^ I. College students are more democratic than grammar school or high school pupils. 2. Musical appreciation is growing in this community. 3. Moving pictures affect all classes of society. 4. Our traffic laws are poorly enforced. 5. Fruit raising under ordinary conditions is necessarily more or less of a speculation. 6. Poor people are often the most generous in proportion to their means. 7. Rentals are too high in this city. 8. Clever advertising influences even those who dislike it. 9. College students read too Httle biography. 10. Basketball pays better than football in a small college. 11. Foreign-speaking immigrants have a lower standard of hving than native Americans. 12. Sunday evening church attendance is declining. 13. Congress wastes a great deal of time. 14. Weekly periodicals are governed largely by their advertising, 15. College students try to do too much outside their studies. 16. Few people use common sense about the food they eat. 1 7. Art exhibitions do not as yet appeal to the general public. 18. The war made young men restless. 19. Carpenters are less skillful and reliable than in former times. 20. Chemistry trains the powers of observation. 94 FRESHMAN RHETORIC 74. Detached single paragraphs are used in editorial writing, in written examinations, and in other ways. Among editorial writers, whether for newspapers and periodicals of general cir- culation or for college publications, the rarest accomplishment is the writing of short, pithy paragraphs, each on a distinct topic. It is much easier to write half a column than to write a good paragraph. In this kind of writing, whether the intent be serious or humorous, the treatment expository or argumentative, the secret of success lies in beginning and ending with a pungent phrase, and in eliminating all superfluous words. "Boil it down" is a motto which would make a good two-hundred-word paragraph out of many a poor theme of six hundred. But condensation should never eliminate the illustrations and the little turns of speech that give life to language. This caution applies especially to paragraphs in college written examinations. If a teacher of history asks when slavery was abolished in the British colonies, or who succeeded Oliver Crom- well, the answer may be given in a line or less. But if he asks for a discussion of the influence of the crusades on European civilization, or of the character of Cavour, what he wants is not two or three scrappy sentences, but a well-developed, carefully framed paragraph. IVIost often the method of development by examj)les or by comparison will yield satisfactory material for the answer to such questions. A general proposition that may be affirmed of all good expository paragraphs, even those which stand alone, is that unsupported, undeveloped assertions have no place in them. The unfolding of that which is implied, the defmition and specification of that which is general or vague, lead to efi'ectiveness. 75. Coherence within the paragraph requires orderly arrangement. There is usually a natural order, logical or chron- ological, governing the best arrangement of the sentences in a paragraph. For example, if the subject of a paragraph has to do with the effects of the war upon the young men who took part ^ GOOD PARAGRAPHS 95 in it, an ineffective order would be to begin with effects of active service in France, to go back to effects of training-camp life, then to jump over to effects of conditions at the time of demobilization, and finally to return to the effects of the selective draft. These four points might be arranged either in chrono- logical or in reverse order, but they should not be shuffled and dealt out at random. Or, if one were discussing modern stage lighting, one would not mix up sentences dealing with the direc- tion, the intensity, and the color of the lights employed. In other words, the same principle of orderly arrangement within the paragraph prevails whether it is, or is not, written upon the basis of a fully detailed outline such as those discussed in Chapters II and IV. 76. Coherence within the paragraph requires suitable connective words and phrases. Somewhere in nearly every sentence in a good paragraph there will be a connective element. l,This may be an adjective {this, these, such, other, another), an adverb or conjunction {further, also, moreover, therefore, conse- quently, nevertheless, yet), a prepositional phrase (aside from, in addition to, by reason of), an adverbial phrase (on the other hand, in spite of these difficulties), or a clause of one sort or another; the purpose being in every case to link sentence to sentence. Such words are often best introduced in revising the rough draft. At every sentence, during revision, the writer may well pause to inquire what is the connection of thought with the preceding passage, and whether that connection is properly expressed. In the following illustrative paragraphs the connective expres- sions are italicized for emphasis: However original mid iconoclastic Shaw may be in respect to interpretative prefaces and artistically cast stage-directions, in the matter of diamatic con- struction and technique he has been notably rigorous, rather than careless, in his attempt at realistic representation. In minor matters of punctuation, it is true, he has freely gratified his own prefeiences and likings — using spaced letters for emphasis, omitting commas and apostrophes whenever no 96 FRESHMAN RHETORIC doubt as to the sense is involved, avoiding quotation marks for titles and, indeed, in biblical fashion, dispensing with punctuation on every possible occasion. All these things are merely matters of taste. But the conventional technique of the drama, the customs, tricks and devices of stage-draft, he ordinarily accepts without question. In Widowers^ Houses in its first form, he made the explicit division into scenes; since that time, he has made each of his plays, as far as scenes go, a continuous whole, unbroken save only b)' division into acts, and by a succession of asterisks where a lapse of time is to be understood. In this respect, he has carefully preserved his rule of writing down nothing that might remind the reader of an actual stage or a theatric representation. _Archibald Henderson, George Bernard Shaw. One cannot refuse to admire the artist who draws these pictures. But we say to ourselves that his ideas show the influence of a primitive and obsolete order of things, when the warrior caste and the priestly caste were alone in honor, and the humble work of the world was done by slaves. We have now changed all that; the modern majority consists in work, as Emerson declares; and in work, we may add, principally of such plain and dusty kind as the work of cultivators of the ground, handicraftsmen, men of trade and business, men of the working professions. Above all is this true in a great industrious community such as that of the United States. — IMatthew Arnold, Literature and Science. There is another evidence of generosity in a gentleman by which you may test any person about whom you doubt whether he be a gentleman or not. A real gentleman will always be considerate toward those whom he employs, toward those who might be considered his inferiors, or who are in any way in his power. The real gentleman thinks about their comforts, pleasures, and reasonable expectations, and docs nothing to make their condition harder or less enjoyable. There is no surer test of a gentleman than that, except that a gentleman will never do anything that will hurt a woman or child or any human creature weaker than himself, even if he docs not yet know the woman or child that might be hurt. This is a test which is infallible. I think that you will find that this rule of conduct will go far toward the pre- servation of personal honor and personal purity. - — C. W. Eliot, The Traini>!gfor an EJJcctivc Life. *1*1 . Emphasis in the paragraph depends largely on arrange- ment. An arrangement that promotes merely unity and coher- ence is not always emphatic. Remembering that the beginning and the end of a paragraph, as well as of a sentence, are the points GOOD PARAGRAPHS 97 of greatest emphasis, we should make sure to begin well and to end well. Frequently a short, pithy topic sentence may stand at the very beginning of the paragraph in order to achieve initial emphasis; notwithstanding that this arrangement postpones the transitional phrase, clause, or sentence, or even sacrifices it entirely. Compare the beginnings of the three following con- nected paragraphs: The sun of Louis XIV had reached its zenith. From a morning of unex- ampled brilliancy it had mounted to the glare of a cloudless noon; but the hour of its decline was near. The mortal enemy of France was on the throne of England, turning against her from that new point of vantage all the energies of his unconquerable genius. An invalid built the Bourbon mon- archy, and another invalid battered and defaced the imposing structure: two potent and daring spirits in two frail bodies, Richelieu and WilHam of Orange. Versailles gave no sign of waning glories. On three evenings of the week, it was the pleasure of the king that the whole court should assemble in the vast suite of apartments now known as the Halls of Abundance, of Venus, of Diana, of Mars, of INIercury, and of Apollo. The magnificence of their decorations, pictures of the great Itahan masters, sculptures, frescoes, mosaics, tapestries, vases and statues of silver and gold; the vista of light and splendor that opened through the wide portals; the courtly throngs, feasting, dancing, gaming, promenading, conversing, formed a scene which no palace of Europe could rival or approach. Here were ail the great historic names of France, princes, warriors, statesmen, and all that was highest in rank and place; the flower, in short, of that briUiant society, so dazzling, captivating, and iUusory. In former years, the king was usually present, affable and gracious, mingling with his courtiers and sharing their amuse- ments; but he had grown graver of late, and was more often in his cabinet, laboring with his ministers on the task of administration, which his extrava- gance and ambition made every day more burdensome. There was one comer of the world where his emblem, the sun, would not shine on him. He had done his best for Canada, and had got nothing for his pains but news of mishaps and troubles. He was growing tired of the colony which he had nursed with paternal fondness, and he was more than half angry with it because it did not prosper. Denonville's letters had grown worse and worse; and, though he had not heard as yet of the last great calamity, he was sated with ill tidings already. — Francis Parkman, Count Frontcnac and New France under Louis XIV. 98 FRESHMAN RHETORIC The first two of these paragraphs make use of the short, forceful topic sentence. In the first paragraph the transitional element is the first phrase of the second sentence; in the second paragraph there is no expressed transition connecting it -with the first. In both cases the initial emphasis gains by the brevity and the slight abruptness of the opening sentence. The third para- graph begins with a transitional sentence carrying on the metaphor of the first paragraph, and states its theme in the second sentence. Terminal emphasis of the paragraph is sometimes attained by a concluding sentence restating in a striking way the theme as announced at the beginning. Thackeray has become classical; but Dickens has done more; he has remained modern. There was a painful moment (somewhere about the eighties) when we watched anxiously to see whether Dickens was fading from the modern world. We have watched a httle longer, and with great rehef we begin to reaUze that it is the modem woild that is fading. All that universe of ranks and respectabilities in comparison with which Dickens was called a caricaturist, all that Victorian universe in which he seemed vulgar — all that is itself breaking up like a cloudland. And only the caricatures of Dickens remain like things carved in stone. — G. K. Chesterton, Criticisms and Appreciations of Dickens. Sometimes the concluding sentence of a pargraph contributes marked emphasis at the close because it is also really the topic sentence. In the following paragraph, illustrations given in the third, fourth, and fifth sentences of the principle announced in the second and repeated in the sixth are rounded out into an impressive climax in the bold phrase "Incipient Hfe" at the beginning of the eighth and last sentence: I take common salt as an illustration because it is so familiar to us all; but any other crystalline substance would answer my purpose equally well. Everywhere, in fact, throughout morganic nature, we have this formative power, as Fichte would call it — this structural energy ready to come into play and build the ultimate particles of matter into definite shapes. The ice of our winters and of our polar regions is its handiwork, and so equally GOOD PARAGRAPHS 99 axe the quartz, feldspar, and mica of our rocks. Our chalk-beds are for the most part composed of minute shells, which are almost the product of structural energy; but behind the shell, as a whole, hes a more remote and subtle formative act. These shells are built up of little crystals of calc-spar, and to form these crystals the structural force had to deal with the intangible molecules of carbonate of lime. This tendency on the part of matter to organize itself, to grow into shape, to assume definite forms in obedience to the definite action of force, is, as I have said, all-pervading. It is in the ground on which you tread, in the water you drink, in the air you breathe. Incipient hfe, as it were, manifests itself throughout the whole of what we call inorganic nature. — John Tyndall, Scope and Limit of Scientific Materialism. In yet other cases a question makes a good ending for a paragraph. Questions, indeed, whether answered or unan- swered, are an important part of all exposition, and when judiciously used contribute much to emphasis. Notice the following example: I must confess that I believe quite firmly that an inductive knowledge of a great number of things in the future is becoming a human possibility. I beUeve that the time is drawing near when it will be possible to suggest a systematic exploration of the future. And you must not judge the practic- abihty of this enterprise by the failures of the past. So far nothing has been attempted, so far no first-class mind has ever focussed itself upon these issues; but suppose the laws of social and political development, for example, were given as many brains, were given as much attention, criticism, and discussion as we have given to the laws of chemical combination during the last fifty years, what might we not expect? — H. G. Wells, The Discovery of the Future. 78. Exercise on coherence and emphasis in paragraphs. (i) Using the fourteen specimen paragraphs quoted in section 72 as material, underscore in pencil every word or phrase that links one sentence with another — every connective element that promotes coherence. (2) Go through the same fourteen paragraphs again to note the beginning and the end of each, noting in the margin some of the means by which initial and terminal emphasis is produced; 100 FRESHMAN RHETORIC for example, "short sentence," "striking phrase," etc. If any paragraph appears to begin or to end weakly, consider whether any transposition of phrases would improve it. 79. Variety of sentence form helps to make good paragraphs. We might have considered the subject of variety in the chapter on sentences, but this is a more appropriate place, for it is not detached sentences but sentences in combination that most need variety. In the writing of paragraphs, and still more in the revision of them, one learns flexibility in the framing of sen- tences. Some examination of the three types of sentences, as classified according to the internal arrangement of 'phrases and clauses, will aid in the understanding of this subject of variety. These three types are loose, periodic, and balanced sentences. 80. Loose sentences. The loose sentence^ is one in which a period may be inserted at one or more points before the end, leaving a grammatically complete sentence. In other words, it is a sentence in which modifying phrases or clauses are added after the principal verb. For example, any conditional sentence in which the conditional clause follows the principal clause, any sentence ending with adverbial modifiers of the predicate, is loose. The loose sentence is the usual and normal type in informal spoken and written English; it is also widely and properly used in formal speaking and writing, whenever unity, coherence, and emphasis are thereby promoted. The only sort of loose sentence which should be avoided is that in which the modifying phrases or clauses added after the principal verb are unimportant, leading to a weak instead of a strong conclusion. But to write wholly in loose sentences is to write monotonously. Desirable variety in connected discourse suggests frequent alter- ation of the loose to the opposite (periodic) ty^e of sentence. ' The name loose is unfortunate, for it seems to imply a disparagement which is not intended. The word merely conveys the fact that the sentence is put together loosely, that is, its parts arc so joined that they can be separated without difficulty. The opposite of loose is periodic. GOOD PARAGRAPHS loi 81. Periodic sentences. The periodic sentence^ is one in which the meaning is not really or even apparently complete until the end. In such a sentence no period can be inserted at any point before the end without destroying its grammatical completeness. A conditional sentence, for example, in which the dependent clause precedes the principal clause, is likely to be periodic. A sentence in which the verb comes at the end is periodic. A sentence in which a predicate complement, noun or adjective, comes at the end is periodic. Any sentence may be arranged in the periodic form, but not always to advantage. It is because untrained writers tend to use loose sentences to excess that special attention needs to be directed at this point to the opposite type. Notice the alternation of periodic and loose sentences in the following paragraph from Macaulay: A history in which every particular incident may be true may on the whole be false. (Periodic). The circumstances which have most influence on the happiness of mankind, the changes of manners and morals, the transition of communities from poverty to wealth, from knowledge to ignorance, from ferocity to humanity — these are, for the most part, noiseless revolutions. (Periodic). Their progress is rarely indicated by what historians are pleased to call important events. (Periodic). They are not achieved by armies, or enacted by senates. (Loose). They are sanctioned by no treaties, and recorded in no archives. (Loose). They are carried on in every school, in every church, behind ten thousand counters, at ten thousand firesides. (Loose). The upper current of society presents no certain criterion by which we can judge of the direction in which the under current flows. (Periodic). We read of defeats and victories. (Loose). But we know that nations may be miserable amidst victories and prosperous amidst defeats. (Loose). We read of the fall of wise ministers and of the rise of profligate favorites. (Loose). But we must remember how small a proportion the good or evil effected by a single statesman can bear to the good or evil of a great social system. (Periodic).^ 1 The name is derived, not from the mark of punctuation called a period, but from a special rhetorical meaning of the word pericd, thus defined in the New Internalional Dictionary: "A well-proportioned, harmonious sentence of several clauses; specifically, a sentence so framed as to come to grammatical completeness only at the end." 2 Several of the loose sentences are also balanced; (see section 82.) I02 FRESHMAN RHETORIC Compare this with an extract from Theodore Roosevelt's The Strenuous Life: We of this generation do not have to face a task such as that our fathers faced, but we have our tasks, and woe to us if we fail to perform them! (Loose). We cannot, if we would, play the part of China, and be content to rot by inches in ignoble ease within oui borders, taking no interest in what goes on beyond them, sunk in a scrambling commercialism; heedless of the higher life, the life of aspiration, of toil and risk, busying ourselves only with the wants of our bodies for the day, until suddenly we should find, beyond a shadow of question, what China has already found, that in this world the nation that has trained itself to a career of unwarlike and isolated ease is bound, in the end, to go down before other nations which have not lost the manly and adventurous qualities. (Loose). If we are to be a really great people, we must strive in good faith to play a great part in the world. (Periodic). We cannot avoid meeting great issues. (Periodic). All that we can determine for ourselves is whether we shall meet them well or ill. (Periodic). All these are good sentences; the loose as good as the periodic. Such a sentence as the second in the passage from Roosevelt, with its 115 words, instead of sacrificing anything by piling phrase upon phrase after the main clause, gains a powerful cumulative effect from this very method. But notice also that in the shorter sentences of both passages most of the force is due to the periodic form. Test this by turning some of them into loose sentences: Original periodic form: The upper current of society presents no certain criterion by which we can judge of the direction in which the under current flows. Weaker form: The direction in which the under current of society flows can be judged by no certain criterion presented by the upper current. Original periodic form: All that we can determine for ourselves is whether we shall meet them well or ill. Weaker form: Whether we shall meet them well or ill is all that we can determine for ourselves. Yet any extensive study of sentence form in good prose will show that it is often a matter of indifference which form should GOOD PARAGRAPHS 103 be employed, so far as the individual sentence is concerned. Variety in the paragraph is often the sole determining factor. Roughly speaking, almost any expository paragraph of con- siderable length will be the better for at least one periodic sen- tence. 82. Balanced sentences. The balanced sentence is of a more artificial and deUberate sort; less common in modern writing than the periodic, and monotonous when carried to excess. It is a sentence in which a symmetrical pattern of two or more members is carried out in parallel phrases or clauses of similar grammatical form. The following paragraph from Newman is a fine example of balanced sentences in the hands of a master: I Pride, under such training, instead of running to waste in the education of the mind, is turned to account; it gets a new name; it is called self-respect; and ceases to be the disagreeable, uncompanionable quality which it is in itself. Though it be the motive principle of the soul, it seldom comes to view; and when it shows itself, then delicacy and gentleness are its attire, and good sense and sense of honor direct its motions. It is no longer a rest- less agent, without definite aim ; it has a large field of exertion assigned to it, and it subserves those social interests which it would naturally trouble. It is directed into the channel of industry, frugahty, honesty, and obedience; and it becomes the very staple of the religion and morality held in honoi in a day like our own. It becomes the safeguard of chastity, the guarantee of veracity, in high and low; it is the very household god of society, as at present constituted, inspiring neatness and decency in the servant girl, propriety of carriage and refined manners in her mistress, uprightness, manliness, and generosity in the head of the family. It diffuses a light over town and country; it covers the soil with handsome edifices and smiling gardens, it tills the field, it stocks and embellishes the shop. It is the stimulat- ing principle of providence on the one hand, and of free expenditure on the other; of an honorable ambition, and of elegant enjoyment. It breathes upon the face of the community, and the hollow sepulchre is forthwith beautiful to look upon. A common and indispensable use of the balanced sentence is to combine into a compact series of noun-clauses beginning with that, or whether, or some other subordinating conjunction, I04 FRESHMAN RHETORIC material which otherwise would require much greater space. Notice the following examples: We can only remind ourselves that he [Bacon] perceived, with all the shrewd certainty which pervades his essays, the cardinal errors of the old scholastic learning; that he pointed out, with the same certainty, how sound and permanent knowledge must rest upon an impregnable basis of ascer- tained fact; and that he never quite understood how such a basis could be discovered, or secured, only by the patient labors of more generations than have yet elapsed since he caught his death-chill stuffing a fowl with snow. — Barrett Wendell, Te^nper of the Seventeenth Century in English Literature. It made all the difference, in asserting any principle of war, whether one assumed that a discharge of artillery would merely knead down a certain quantity of red clay into a level line, as in a brick field; or whether, out of every separatelj^ Christian-named portion of the ruinous heap, there went out, into the smoke and dead-fallen air of battle, some astonished condition of soul, unwilling!}- released. It made all the diffeience, in speaking of the possible range of commerce, whether one assumed that all bargains related only to visible property — or whether property, for the present invisible, but nevertheless real, was elsewhere purchasable on other terms. It made all the difference, in addressing a body of men subject to considerable hard- ship, and having to find some way out of it — whether one could confidently say to them, "Isly friends, — j'ou have onlj' to die, and all will be right;" or whether one had any secret misgiving that such advice was more blessed to him that gave, than to him that took it. — Ruskin, The Crown of Wild Olive. / A balanced sentence in plain exposition is chiefly useful for emphasizing contrasts, and for condensing a series of parallel statements into clear and compact form. Involving as it does a certain premeditation and symmetry of expression, it is not likely to find place in the first draft of compostions by unprac- ticed WTiters. But in revising a paragraph containing either an imperfectly focussed antithesis, or a jerky series of short, parallel sentences, recourse may well be had to this principle of balance in form, matching balance in ideas. 83. Exercise in variety of sentence form. In the fourteen specimen paragraphs quoted in section 72, mark in the text GOOD PARAGRAPHS 105 (with P or B) each periodic and each balanced sentence. Choose one loose sentence from each of these paragraphs and turn it into a periodic sentence, writing the two forms in parallel col- umns. Try to improve on the original, by changing not the phraseology but the arrangement of the sentence. Reading aloud of the two versions will often demonstrate that the rhythm or cadence of the author's loose sentence is superior to that of any periodic substitute. Note that variety of sentence form is much more important to the ear than to the eye. 84. Final exercise in paragraph development. Choosing as a starting-point one of the following sentences, or another equally specific, write a theme of three connected paragraphs, each containing at least six sentences. Make your own title. Each paragraph should have a distinct topic sentence of your own making (the sentence chosen from the list is really a topic sentence for the whole theme, not for any one paragraph). Development by illustration, by comparison or contrast, and by causes or results will probably be the most effective, but other methods may be employed. Before copying this theme revise it thoroughly with reference to emphasis, coherence, and variety. The exercise is a test of all the work of the past few weeks, deaHng with the structure of the sentence and of the paragraph. Enough time should be spent orf it to insure that it will represent the best writing of which you are capable. Subjects for Test Theme on Paragraph Development 1. Non-partisan municipal campaigns are seldom successful. 2. It takes more than buildings and money to make a college. 3. Self-respect is a safer basis for morality than an inherited or traditional code. 4. Unearned luxury is bad for young people. 5. Contemporary poetry, even if overestimated, is well worthy of study. 6. A scientific education may be made as liberal as the old classical curriculum. 7. There are too many books published. io6 FRESHMAN RHETORIC 8. Mountains are at once more stimulating and more restful than the sea. 9. The prevailing reticence in regard to personal religion and the deeper things of Kfe is not due to indifference. 10. Our generation wastes most of the time saved by machinery. 11. Votes for women have not purified pohtics. 12. Americans have still a childish appetite for international flattery. 13. Friendship involves sacrifice. 14. It is not necessarily a mark of superiority to scorn what the crowd admires. 15. Watching a game is no substitute for playing a game. 16. There are two sides to most labor troubles, only one of which appears in the newspapers. 17. The college community seems to ignore the student who does the hard, quiet work for college enterprises. 18. American cities situated on rivers have not yet learned how to develop thcii waterfront for beauty as well as for utility. 19. The sky-scraper may be made the worst or the best thing in Ameri- can architecture. 20. We do not appreciate the beauty of woods and parks in winter. 21. The ambition to speak the English language as well as possible is rare. 22. Is the collective conscience of a group always lower than the indi- vidual consciences of the persons who compose it? 23. Rapid transit and rapid communication of intelligence are the most important characteristics of our age. 24. Too much stjidy leaves a man no time to think. 25. Real merit is surer of ultimate recognition in the college world than in the world outside. 26. It is more interesting, as well as more useful, to help the discouraged than to try to rouse the proud and self-satisfied. 27. A sense of humor is the best domestic lubricant. 28. We are happiest when busiest. 29. A student's life is in constant danger of becoming a selfish life. 30. If America ever fails, it will be because she has failed to assimilate her foreign population. ' Suggested A ss ignments Assignment 14. Study sections 67-72. Learn by heart the six methods of paragraph dc\'clcipment defined in section 71. Read the specimen para- GOOD PARAGRAPHS 107 graphs in section 72 with sufficient care to be able to show how far they illustrate these methods. Assignment 15. Write the four paragraphs required in section 73. Revise, and copy to be handed in. Assignment 16. Study sections 74-77, including a careful examination of the paragraphs quoted as examples of coherence and emphasis. Assignment 17. Perform the exercise indicated in section 78. Assignment 18. Study sections 79-82 and perform the exercise indicated in section 83. Assignment 19. Write the theme called for in section 84. CHAPTER VI HOW TO USE A REFERENCE LIBRARY 85. The use of a library must be learned by practice. No information such as that contained in this chapter can take the place of patient, persistent attempts to use the resources of a good library in actual research. Before such attempts are undertaken, however, it is well to know the names and the uses of the principal tools to be employed. Samuel Johnson said: "Knowledge is of two kinds: we know a subject ourselves, or we know where we can find information about it." This latter kind of knowledge is indispensable to students; and a library is the place in which to acquire it. If all that one needs is to find sometliing, anything, any bit of information whether full or scanty, recent or obsolete, bearing upon one's subject, little care is required to get that. But if one desires to get the best, the latest, the most rehable and comprehensive information, one must know how to use the tools which the library affords. 86. Library regulations must be observed. All libraries have their own special rules, which readers are expected to learn and to obey. Three rule? are nearly always prescribed and enforced : (i) Silence must be maintained, in order not to interfere with the rights of others. This means Uteral silence to the extent that no general or social conversation is permissible in a hbrary. Inquiries addressed to library attendants, and necessary conver- sation \\dth them or with instructors regarding the subject of one's investigation, should be conducted in an undertone. Dis- regard for this principle is a mark of bad manners. (2) Books taken from the shelves by readers for use in the 108 HOW TO USE A REFERENCE LIBRARY 109 library should either be left on the tables near the place from which they were taken, or if replaced should be put back in the exact place where they belong. If there is any doubt in which of several gaps on a shelf a book belongs, it should be left on the table. The reason for this rule is that a book misplaced on the shelves is, for the time being, a lost book, useless to all others who may look for it. (3) No book should ever be taken outside the hbrary for any purpose by any person without being properly charged at the desk by means ot the slip or card provided for that purpose. Carelessness rather than intentional dishonesty in this matter is responsible for the loss of many books, some of which cannot be replaced. To take out a book without charging is, in effect if not in intent, to steal the book. That one expects to return it almost immediately is no defence. An equally dishonest and repre- hensible violation of rules is for a reader to secrete a book some- where in the library itself, with the object of reserving it for his exclusive use at some future time. No gentleman will do that. 87. General reference books are the first tools for research. A reference library differs from a small private library in having not one but several unabridged dictionaries, not one but several of the latest and many of the older encyclopedias. These are usually shelved in a prominent place, and should ordinarily be the first books consulted. Not less than two dictionaries or encyclopedias should usually be examined in looking up any word or any subject, for a comparison of material in different sources is a fundamental principle of library research. Some of the most important general reference books are briefly de- scribed in the following sections. 88. Dictionaries. There are four unabridged dictionaries that may be consulted by one who needs to ascertain accurately the meanings and the history of words. The first two of these, the New International Dictionary and the New Standard Dictionary, are sufficient if aU that is desired is a comprehensive no FRESHMAN RHETORIC series of definitions covering all the current meanings of a word, together with some of its older meanings and its etymology. For an exhaustive history of a word, with quoted examples of every meaning it has ever borne in all the centuries of Enghsh literature, the one place to go to is A New English Dictionary, (often knowTi as the Oxford Dictionary, or Murray's). This great work, edited and pubHshed in Great Britain, and just nearing completion after more than thirty years of labor, must be examined to be appreciated. Its principal use for ordinary students is in tracing the older meanings of words met with in courses in the earlier English literature. For proper names, and for much encyclopedic information of many kinds, the Century Dictionary and Cyclopedia, in twelve large volumes, is a valuable work of reference. In the use of the New International Dictionary the reader must bear in mind that if he does not find a word in its proper alpha- betical place where he looks for it, he may find it in smaller type on the lower part of the page below the horizontal rule, among the rarer or less used words. A dictionary should never be consulted without noting the pronunciation of the word exam- ined, for the reason that nearly every one discovers in this way mispronunciations which would not otherwise be drawn to one's attention. A condensed key to the diacritical marks of pro- nunciation is printed on every page. In the New Standard Dictionary pronunciation is indicated by two parallel methods: the first, according to the Revised Scientific Alphabet, and the second, according to the symbols commonly used in other dic- tionaries. These two should not be mistaken for different pro- nunciations of the same word. All the different meanings of a word in the separate numbered paragraphs should be noted. Such of them as are marked rare, obsolete, provincial, or colloquial are recorded for completeness, not as indicating any present authority for usage. It is a good practice always to glance through the paragraph headed "Syn." HOW TO USE A REFERENCE LIBRARY iii in order to note the distinctions among the synonyms of a word. Habitual use of an unabridged dictionary in this thorough fashion, reading all that is printed about a word instead of stop- ping at the first or second line, will be of great value in extending one's vocabulary. Particularly is it important that in alllibrary reference work, whenever one meets with a word of which one does not know the meaning or the pronunciation, recourse should be had to the dictionary. No form of mental indolence is more disastrous than the habit of skipping hard words. 89. General encyclopedias. Three encyclopedias covering the entire field of knowledge are the Encyclopedia Britannica (eleventh edition, twenty-nine volumes, 1910-11); the New International Encyclopedia (revised second edition, twenty-four volumes, 1921) ; 2in<\\hQ Encyclopedia .4wer/cawa (thirty volumes, 1918-20). All have their merits; all can be criticized in details. For recent events and developments in history and science the International and the Americana supplement the Britannica. In general it may be said, however, that no encyclopedia can remain for more than a year or two after its publication a suffi- cient source of information on topics which are constantly chang- ing. Books which enable a student to correct and to add to what the encyclopedia can give are mentioned later in this chapter. One caution in regard to the use of encyclopedias is that it is seldom sufficient to consult a single article. Material bear- ing on a given subject is scattered through half a dozen volumes. Particularly in this true of the Britannica, although it often groups together in a single article material which other encyclo- pedias treat under several distinct titles. After examining the article on Napoleon I in the Britannica one might naturally suppose that one had exhausted the resources of the encyclopedia on that subject. Perhaps it would occur to an inquiring mind, after noting the separate article on the Napoleonic campaigns, to turn to the article on French history. But few students would 112 FRESHMAN RHETORIC suppose that this encyclopedia contains about seventy other references to Napoleon, scattered through many volumes, and discoverable only through the index. One who is preparing to write a paper on some aspect of Napoleon's career learns through these entries in the index that further information is to be found in such articles as those on Italy, Paris, Josephine, and St. Helena. The Britamiica index need not always be consulted when ample material is at hand in a single article, but will often give the clew in an otherwise baffling search. Neither the International nor the Americana has an alpha- betical index like that of the Britannica. Instead they have more numerous cross-references (indicated by titles printed in small capitals, usually preceded by "see," or followed by the abbrevia- tion q.v., meaning quod vide, "which see.")^ In addition to these cross-references each of these encyclopedias has a classified subject index volume; that of the International being entitled Courses of Reading and Study, and that of the Americana the Classified Index. These two volumes, somewhat similar in purpose, are particularly useful to literary workers. They do more than merely enumerate collateral articles touching on a given subject; they present in the form of synopses and analyti- cal lists of topics a complete subdivision of human knowledge. The use of such synopses may be best shown by examples. Suppose one is attracted by the general subject of monas- ticism. Having discovered through some elementary reading of European history how vast was the influence of the various religious orders of the Christian church upon society and upon literature, one resolves to study up the subject and write an essay upon it. Turning to the sixth chapter of the Courses of Reading and Study published in connection with the International, one finds the whole chapter devoted to religion, and the fourth iQther common abbreviations in reference books are c/. (Latin confer, compare); ihid. (Latin ibidem,\n the same place); Passim (liere and there, in various places); op. cit. (Latin opere citato, in tlie work cited.) HOW TO USE A REFERENCE LIBRARY 113 section to the monastic life. Here it is discovered that for information on this subject one may turn not only to the article on "Monasticism" but also to those on "Monastery," "Abbey," "Monastic Art," "Asceticism;" and what is of much more importance, one finds a comprehensive list of monastic orders, not only the Augustiniaris, Benedictines, Carthusians, Carme- lites, but numerous others less familiar to the general reader. Moreover, the reader's attention is called by this synopsis to the fact that the mediaeval church had not only monastic orders properly so called, but also many missionary and teaching orders of men and women devoted to the rehgious life but not to entire seclusion. Here comes the list of such orders as the Franciscans, Dominicans, Jesuits; here are references to such biographies as those of Francis de Sales, Ignatius Loyola, Vincent de Paul. This distinction between cloistered monks and members of missionary orders may have been more or less vaguely known to the student, but to see it here sharply and distinctly set forth calls to his attention the fact that he cannot possibly write about the whole subject of monasticism in its broadest sense. In making his selection of one or another sub- division of it, he is enabled to see it in its relation to others; to see its boundaries, and the provinces adjacent on either side. When finally he comes to read up for an essay on "St Benedict and Mediaeval Book-Making," or "Ruined English Abbeys," or "Early Jesuit Missions in North America," he knows at least a little about the margins, the relations, the associations of his subject. He also knows that he may get a picturesque illus- tration for a paragraph on monasteries from the etymological connection between the names of the Charterhouse in London, the monastery called La Grande Chartreuse in southern France, the liqueur known as chartreuse, and the order of Carthusian monks. Such are some of the uses of a classified subject in- dex. Again, there is a good article on "Forestry in the United 114 FRESHMAN RHETORIC States" in the eleventh volume of the Encyclopedia Americana, and in connection therewith cross-references (printed in small capitals) to other articles in the same volume, such as "Forest Fires" and "Forest Schools." But an intelligent person desiring to collect material for an essay upon some topic connected with forestry will not stop with this volume. In the Classified Index volume he will find, in a division entitled "Forestry and Lumber- ing," references not only to all these articles in Volume ii, but also many columns of titles included in other volumes. There is among them a comprehensive Hst of separate articles on trees, to which a student would refer who desired to illustrate some point about the comparative value of different species of pine for reforestation, or the annual consumption of spruce for paper- making and Christmas trees. Furthermore, the combination of titles dealing with forestry and with lumbering calls his attention to the fact that the only kind of forestry which has any chance of succeeding is not the sentimental but the commercial kind — conservative forestry, combined with a reasonable annual cutting of lumber, according to methods which may disfigure but do not ruin the forests. One more caution in regard to the use of encyclopedias is of special importance for those whose purpose in studying them is to gather material for composition. Too much time should not be spent on encyclopedias, nor should elaborate and extensive notes be taken from them. There are. two reasons for this advice. In the first place, since one's time for reading up a subject is always too short for ideal thoroughness, if several hours are spent on encyclopedias there will be too little oppor- tunity for a kind of selective and comparative reading in other books and in periodicals which is indispensable. Secondly, an essay based primarily upon notes taken from encyclopedias will tend to borrow the encyclopedic di\-ision and arrangement of material instead of making an original plan to fit the occasion; and will be barren of such illustrations, anecdotes, and pictur- HOW TO USE A REFERENCE LIBRARY 115 esque scraps of information as are to be found in other less formal sources. A middle course, therefore, is recommended between too hasty and too minute reading of encyclopedias: let it be thorough enough to get hints as to the collateral material indirectly related to the subject, but not so slow and laborious as to interfere with what is much more important preparation for the writing of an interesting essay. General encyclopedias often have to be supplemented by two other kinds of works of general reference: (i) by special encyclo- pedias of particular branches of knowledge^ (2) by yearbooks, and other means of bridging the gap between the date of the encyclo- pedia and the present time. 90. Special encyclopedias. For a comprehensive list of encyclopedias and dictionaries of special branches of knowledge the reader is referred to Kroeger and Mudge's Guide to the Study and Use of Reference Books, revised edition, 191 7. This is invaluable for persons desiring to know more about reference books, magazine indexes, and other topics in library science than is found in this chapter. Among the best examples of special encyclopedias and handbooks, many of which are, within their fields, fuller and more authoritative than the general encyclo- pedias, are the following: Bailey's Cyclopedia of Agriculture Sturgis's Dictionary of Architecture and Building Harper's Dictionary of Classical Literature and Antiquities Monroe's Cyclopedia of Education Lamed 's History for Ready Reference Ploetz's Epitome of Ancient, Mediaeval, and Modern History Putnam's Handbook of Universal History The Cambridge Modern History The Cambridge History of English Literature The Cambridge History of American Literature ' Grove's Dictionary of Music and Musicians Baldwin's Dictionary of Philosophy and Psychology Bliss's Neu' Encyclopedia of Social Reform ii6 FRESHMAN RHETORIC Hastings's Dictionary of the Bible The New Schaf- Hcrzog Encyclopedia of Religious Knowledge Hastings's Encyclopedia of Religion and Ethics The Catholic Encyclopedia The Jewish Encyclopedia Bartlett's Familiar Quotations Hoyt's Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations Granger's Dictionary of Poetry and Recitations Brewer's The Reader's Handbook Brewer's Dictionary of Phrase and Fable The Century Cyclopedia of Names Most of these are not shelved with the general encyclopedias but with the special classes to which they belong. Hence it is important to remember that there are such books, and that their articles are often to be preferred to those in the general works. In Grove's Dictionary of Music and Musicians, for example, a student working in a library which has but few recent and detailed books on musical theory and history will be able to find abundant material for many aspects of a musical subject. The Cambridge series, written by specialists throughout, is indis- pensable for many topics in modern history and literature. All encyclopedias include at the end of important articles a select bibliography of the subject, naming the most important books to be consulted for further information. In reading encyclopedias one will take note of such bibliographical lists, at least to remember that they are there; and usually to the extent of ascertaining which of these books are in the library. This may easily be checked by reference to the card catalogue, preferably by looking first for the author's name (rather than for the title), unless it is a very common surname and one has not the initials. To make such use of the bibliography in the encyclopedia at the time one reads the article will save the trouble of returning to it later when one is searching for books bearing on the subject. 91. Biographical dictionaries. Among special encyclopedias HOW TO USE A REFERENCE LIBRARY 117 perhaps the most important of all in some kinds of reference work are dictionaries and catalogues of biographical information about the leading men of past and present times. The Diction- ary of National Biography is indispensable for facts about Eng- lishmen not now living. With its first and second supplements this great work, compiled by specialists and amply supplied with references to original sources and with bibliographical lists, is the best of all biographical dictionaries. The second supplement carries it down to 191 2. Brief biographical data about living Englishmen and British citizens throughout the British Empire are found in the current volume of Who's Who, together with sketches of a small number of eminent men living in other countries. Back numbers of Who's Who cover the lives of Englishmen recently deceased. A volume called Who Was Who serves the same purpose for those who died between 1897 and 1916. For American biography there is the current volume of Who's Who in America for living men, and the back numbers for Amer- icans who have died during the past few years. American Men of Science supplements this at some points. But for stand- ard biography of Americans of earlier times neither Appleton's Cyclopedia of American Biography (eight volumes) nor the National Cyclopedia of American Biography .(sixteen volumes) can bear comparison with the British work. These two cyclo- pedias, however, are often useful, especially in looking up men briefly treated, or not treated at all, in the general encyclopedias. 92. Yearbooks. For supplementing all encyclopedias be- yond the date of their publication it is necessary to use annual volumes surveying the events of each year. The best of these for comprehensive summaries dealing with all fields of human progress is the New International Year Book, published annually since 1907. The volumes of this work, from 1914 to 1918, for example, will give a more compact account of history, science, social reforms, during the World War than most other sources. ii8 FRESHMAN RHETORIC In each volume, under the headmg of literature, will be found a discriminating survey of the Ijest books published duiing the preceding year — a most valuable guide to students in selecting recent books in fiction, poetry, biography, travel, for general reading. Progress in scientific invention and discovery — a field in which any encyclopedia is soon obsolete — is best traced in this work, unless one has time for extensive reading of periodicals. A smaller annual volume of a similar sort is the American Year Book. Another kind of yearbook, issued earlier in the year and there- fore more nearly up to date, and containing chiefly statistical material, is represented in this country by three newspaper annuals. These are the World Almanac, the Tribune Almanac, and the Chicago Daily News Almanac. The first named is the most comprehensive and the most widely used. In these books the index should always be consulted in order to save time. A subject is often treated in two or more places. For such matters as political statistics, party platforms, population and other figures for cities, data concerning hundreds of colleges and universities, economic facts such as prices, tariffs, banking and commerce, the World Almanac is indispensable. It is often better to take figures from such annuals than from an ordinary magazine article, since the chances are that the almanac is more carefully edited. Two other much larger American yearbooks, often useful where the newspaper almanacs are inadequate, are the American Statesman's Year Book and the Statistical Abstract of the United States. The latter, a government publication supplied free to all libraries, contains official statistics of population, finance, commerce, agriculture, immigration, education, and other sub- jects. The bulletins frecjuently issued by the Census Bureau, though based on figures already several years old, sometimes provide an expert collation and analysis of statistics superior for some purposes to more recent but imperfectly digested HOW TO USE A REFERENCE LIBRARY 119 figures. These bulletins are not usually kept on open shelves and may be called for by means of call slips, prepared by refer- ence to the card catalogue (entered under "United States — Census Bureau.") For Great Britain and the British Empire there are four year- books of special importance. The first and most widely used is the Statesman's Year Book. While giving more space to British affairs than to others, it covers the principal facts about the governments, armies and navies, population, commerce, of all the countries of the world. This is the work to consult for tlie names of rulers, statesmen, officials, diplomats, army and navy officers. Any question about the pubUc affairs of India, Canada, or Australia is to be answered here; and Ukewise any important fact or figure about Japan, or Brazil, or Portugal. Two smaller but convenient works of similar kind are Whitaker's Almanack and the Neiv Hazell Annual and Almanack. A fourth British annual of a different sort is the Annual Register, founded in the eighteenth century, still useful for summaries of British legislation and parliamentary proceedings fuller than those given elsewhere in accessible form. 93. Atlases and gazetteers. The foreign atlases have finer maps of foreign countries, but for ordinary use the Rand McNally Library Atlas of the World is still generally adequate. The Century Atlas of the World (twelfth volume of the Century Dictionary and Cyclopedia) is easier to handle because of the smaller pages. Changes in European and African boundaries since the World War, and other geographical changes throughout the world, are best shown in recent loose-leaf atlases such as the New World Loose Leaf Atlas. For Great Britain the new atlases published by the London Times and Daily Telegraph are especially good. A new edition of Stieler's Hand-atlas (Ger- man) is valuable for its fine maps, and for its careful translitera- tion of Slavic names in Central and Eastern Europe. For the spelling and proununciation of geographical names, aside from I20 FRESHMAN RHETORIC the lists given in the unabridged dictionaries, LippincoWs New Gazetteer of the World is often useful. 94. How to find other books. The next stage in library research, after consulting general reference books, is to discover other books dealing more fully or more interestingly with the subject of inquiry. To depend entirely on encyclopedias and yearbooks is to limit one's material to bare facts presented in the briefest possible way. Such material may be adequate in amount, but can never be adequate in variety, in suggestiveness, in stimulus to the imagination. Good writing based upon reading can be done only when the mind and the notebook are stored with a rich hoard of ideas gathered from many sources, the ideas of many men, collected with industry, classified with discrimination, and worked over with a degree of creative zeal. One must read widely enough to see the subject from several angles, to see beyond it and around it and through it, to become genuinely interested in it and in the right presentation of it to an intelligent reader. For these purposes comparative reading is indispensable. How to find other books, aside from those of an encyclopedic character, is now the problem. It is a twofold problem: (i) to discover the titles of all the books in the library that deal wholly or in part with the subject, so far as limited time permits; and (2) to select among these books a few, the best for one's particular purpose, from which chapters or passages are to be read and suitable notes are to be made. The solution of the first part of the problem is to be found in the proper use of the cai d catalogue. For the second part there are certain useful guides, helpful in separating the best books from books inferior in quality or inconvenient for use on other grounds. These two questions are now to be considered in turn: (i) What are all the books in this library that can contribute anything to my investi- gation? (2) On which of these shall I spend most of my time? 95. The card catalogue. Any library catalogue answers upon first inspection two of the questions that a reader may ask HOW TO USE A REFERENCE LIBRARY 121 about books: (i) Has the library a book by a certain author? (2) Has the library a book with a certain title? A third ques- tion, answered with varying fullness and accuracy according to the merit of the catalogue, is: (3) What books in the library deal wholly or in part with a certain subject? Corresponding to these three questions, at least three cards are generally entered in the catalogue for every book except fiction and poetry: (i) an author card; (2) a title card; (3) a subject card. For fiction and poetry the first two of these are usually sufficient. (i) If we wish to know whether the library has a copy of a book of which we have both the author's name and the title, we look in the proper alphabetical place for the author's surname. Turning over rapidly from the beginning all cards bearing that surname, we come to those with the desired forename or initials. Among the works of the author in question, we look in its proper alphabetical place (disregarding The, A ) for the title of the book we wish to find. This process, the simplest possible in hbrary work, of finding the author card for a book of known author and known title, is occasionally comphcated by the use of a pseudo- nym (abbreviated pseud.) or nom de plume. Libraries generally enter Mark Twain's books under his real name, Clemens, S. L.; but for the guidance of readers a card is entered under Twain, Mark, with the direction "see Clemens, S. L." Other difficulties sometimes arise in the case of surnames beginning with an abbreviation, for example, the English surname St. John, placed under Sa; or of French surnames beginning with de, indexed under the following word, except when the name has become anghcized with the prefix as part of the surname; or of the names beginning Mc, Mac, M', which are found after Mab, arranged according to the first letter after the prefix. (2) A second question, how to find the title card for a book of which the author's name is not known, or of an anonymous book, is nearly as simple. Remembering that an initial article {The, A) \s disregarded in the alphabetical arrangement, we 122 FRESHMAN RHETORIC should have no difficulty in finding a title card among the M's for Mirrors of Downing Street, The. It is often advisable, if the title card is not found under the first word of the title, to look for another important word. But it frequently happens that the reason we do not find a title card is that our recollection of the title is inaccurate. In that case we must turn to the sub- ject cards. ^ (3) Under this third heading, subject entries, is to be found most of the information which a card catalogue can give the reader. Since many books have titles which give an imperfect notion of their real subject, the cataloguer makes what is called a subject card, at the top of which is a subject heading followed by the author's name and the title. This subject heading is often in red ink. Thus, under a subject heading like "Gothic Architecture," among the G's, will be a card referring the reader to "Architecture, Gothic.'* Turning to the A's, we find a com- plete subject catalogue of all the works on architecture, among which will be a guide card (projecting above the level of the other cards) with the caption "Gothic" or some equivalent phrase. The cards following this guide card include the titles of all books dealing with Gothic architecture, not merely those which have the word Gothic in their titles. Among them may be a cross-reference card with the direction "see also Cathedrals; Church Architecture." Under "Cathedrals" will be cards repre- senting books which deal primarily not with Gothic architecture in general, but with special examples of it in the cathedrals of England or France or some other country. If we are particu- larly interested in French cathedrals, our reading of the encyclo- pedia will have informed us that the cathedral of Chartres is one of the finest in France; and looking up Chartres among the C's we shall find a card for Henry Adams's wonderful book entitled Tapitalization of book titles in library cataloRues differs from tliat in general use. Only the first word of the title and the prooer nouns and proper adjectives are capital- ized. This usase, for which there arc technical reasons, should not be imitated by students in writing book titles in the body of an essay. HOW TO USE A REFERENCE LIBRARY 123 Mont-Saint-Michel and Chartres. Following such clews, pur- suing the theme from one drawer to another upon the hints found in the "see also" cards, we shall gradually transfer to our notes the titles of many books which could not otherwise have been discovered. A well-made card catalogue, with all the subject entries and cross-references suggested by the printed cards issued by the Library of Congress and by manuals of classifica- tion, will answer almost any question about books deahng with a given subject. Suppose our subject is "Arms and Armor of the Viking Age." We shall look up not only "Arms and Armor" but also "Viking," and under the latter head will be a card for Paul B. Du Chaillu's The Viking Age. At the bottom of this title card (if the Ubrary uses the Library of Congress printed cards) appears a line in small type reading "i. Northmen. 2. Vikings. 3. Scandinavia — Antiquities." This Hne directs the cataloguer to place cards for Du Chaillu's book not only under his name (author card) and the heading "Viking" (title card) but also under "Northmen" and "Scandinavia — Antiqui- ties." The third of these three items should lead us to the S's where under "Scandinavia — Antiquities" we find, along with Du Chaillu's book, cards for many other works on Scandinavian antiquities, some of which we shall need to use for comparison with The Viking Age. But more than this, we also find under this subject heading a "see also" card, written or typed in red ink, which informs us, or reminds us, that we should also con- sult other subject headings such as "Denmark," "Norway," "Sweden," and "Normans." We are now on the track of more books than we can possibly read or even examine in the limited time available; but without following up some of these cross- references we should have had an inadequate basis for selection, perhaps Umited to Du Chaillu and one or two other books cata- logued under "Vikings" and "Arms and Armor." The principle involved in these illustrations is of the utmost importance in library research. It may be stated as follows: 124 FRESHMAN RHETORIC After consulting the catalogue under the most obvious subject heading suggested by the topic, follow up in turn all the cross- references to other subject headings given either by the red-ink "see also" cards, or by the list of subject headings found at the bottom of the printed Library of Congress cards. If the subject is so worded that one does not know where to begin the search, the quickest method is sometimes to select from the bibliography at the end of an encyclopedia article the titles of two or three books, and to look for these in the card catalogue under the authors' names. The notations on these cards will usually give the clew to at least one subject heading, which may then be followed up as above. If this method fails, the reference librarian will give assistance. There is one kind of book, often most valuable, the contents of which would be almost inaccessible without the use of the catalogue — a book containing detached essays on various subjects. For such a book the catalogue contains several cards called "analytics," one for each subject covered. Thus Steven- son's Familiar Studies of Men and Books, with essays on such men as Victor Hugo, Walt Whitman, Henry David Thoreau, Franfois Villon, is catalogued not only under "Stevenson" (author card) and "Familiar" (title card), but under "Hugo Victor," "Villon, Franfois," and all the rest. The top line of these analytic cards is usually in red. If, then, we are reading up on Villon, we shall find under V not only whole books written about him by others, whether biography or criticism, (headed with his name in red ink), but also single essays and chapters by Stevenson and others entered on these analytic cards. With- out analytics, a reader might spend a great deal of time reading books about Dante without ever discovering Lowell's essay on Dante in Among My Books. Indeed, as one tests repeatedly the resources of a good library catalogue, puzzled and annoyed at first by being sent from one drawer to another in quest of the right heading, one learns HOW TO USE A REFERENCE LIBRARY 125 gradually to appreciate the order underlying all this apparent complexity, and to be grateful to those who devised a method so thorough, and in the end, so satisfying. In an open-shelf library, or one in which a large number of books are open to inspection, there is a tendency on the part of students to depend altogether upon what they can find on the shelves. Failure to use the catalogue in the thorough, painstaking way above illustrated will surely result in superficial and one-sided reading. There are at least two obvious reasons why inspection of the shelves alone is insufficient: first, because some of the most important books on the subject may have been withdrawn from the shelves by some reader in the library or by some borrower for home use; secondly, because without the "see also" cards one is sure to overlook important collateral material. But, although one cannot depend upon the shelves alone, one needs to know, especially in an open-shelf library or large reading-room, how to find books on the shelves when the class to which they belong has been ascertained. This knowledge requires a brief examination of library classification. 96. Library classification. In the upper left-hand corner of each card in the card catalogue will be found, written or typed, a number consisting of a series of figures, with or without letters, such as 824 S3 1, or D 38. This combination of figures, or figures and letters, known as the "call number," must be written by the reader on a call shp when he wishes the book brought by an attendant from the stack, or on a charging slip when he has found the book and desires to take it from the library. The call number in some libraries is simply the "class number" or "shelf number" of the book, indicating its classification and its relative position on the shelves; in other libraries the call number is made up of the class number (such as 824, English essays) plus a "book number" (S3r, indicating that the author's name begins with S and is distinguished by the symbol 31 from other S's in that class). This second part of the call number, when 126 FRESHMAN RHETORIC used, is of importance only to the library attendants in finding and replacing the book on the shelves. The class number, on the other hand, is important to the reader as well, if he is working in a library where access to the shelves is permitted. For, in order to find readily the books in any class, one must understand the principle of arrangement, and must refer to some printed list or placard indicating the meaning of the more common symbols. Some of the largest libraries in the country and many smaller ones have special systems of classification peculiar to themselves. A few use the Library of Congress classification. In a great majority of public libraries and college libraries, however, will be found either the Decimal Classification devised by Melvil Dewey or the Expansive Classification of Charles A. Cutter. The Decimal employs combinations of figures alone, the Expan- sive of letters and figures. For example, the history of Italian art is 70945 in the Decimal, W35 in the Ex-pansive. Inasmuch as the Decimal Classification has been widely adopted during the past few years, and is, in spite of some defects, likely to supersede in time many of the local systems, a brief explanation of it may not be inappropriate at this point. Dewey divides the field of knowledge into nine main classes, numbered 100 to 900, and places general works of reference in a preliminary class numbered zero, as follows: Classes 000 General Works 500 Natural Science 100 Philosophy 600 Useful Arts 200 Religion 700 Fine Arts 300 Sociology 8(X) Literature 400 Philology 9CX) History, Biography, Travel Each of these classes is divided into ten divisions, 01 which the first is general, as, for e.xample: HOW TO USE A REFERENCE LIBRARY 127 Example of Divisions 500 Natural Science 550 Geology 510 Mathematics 560 Paleontology 520 Astronomy 570 Biology 530 Physics 580 Botany 540 Chemistry 590 Zoology Each of the divisions is again divided into ten sections, as for example: Ex.\MPLE OF Sections 530 Physics 535 Optics 531 Mechanics 536 Heat 532 Hydraulics 537 Electricity 533 Pneumatics 538 Magnetism 534 Acoustics 539 Molecular Physics There are therefore 1000 sections, the complete list of which may be found in the official manual of the system, entitled The Dewey Decimal Classification, or in the A. L. A. Catalogue, a book referred to later in this chapter. Such a classification is adequate for any general library of moderate size. Indefinite subdivision is provided for, however, by the addition of sub- section numbers, separated from the section number by a decimal point. Thus 371 is the section on Teaching Methods, and 371.7 (read 371 point 7) is School Hygiene, and 371.42 Manual Training. Modifications of the Decimal Classification adapting it to special conditions are often found. Biography, for example, instead of being grouped together under 920, is often divided so that biographies of men of science come in the 500 class, of artists in the 700s, of hterary men under literature, 800. Again, college libraries may prefer to class and shelve near together works on the language of a country (400) and its literature (800). Such changes are easily learned by experience in a library which has adopted them. 128 FRESHMAN RHETORIC Observant students will soon find it convenient to learn the class numbers of classes with which they are chiefly concerned. In an open-shelf hbrary the alcoves are often designated by these class numbers, and the location of books may be further indicated by labels affixed to metal clips on the edges of the shelves. Within each subdivision the arrangement is generally alphabetical by authors, except in the case of biography and criticism, in which the alphabetical arrangement is that of the names of persons about whom the books are written. In looking for books on the shelves it should always be remem- bered that the particular book desired may be in use elsewhere in the hbrary, even though one has already ascertained at the charging-desk that it has not been taken out by a borrower. Another point to bear in mind is that exceptionally tall books (designated on catalogue cards as quarto or foho) have to be placed out of their natural order on deeper shelves, near the floor or elsewhere in the alcove. It is further to be remembered, by readers depending too much on inspection of the shelves and too httle on the catalogue, that frequently the works of an author belong in several classes, and hence are not shelved together. The only way to make sure that one has found all the books of a given author, including perhaps fiction, essays, biography, and poetry, is to consult the author cards bearing his name in the catalogue. The principal reason why the ordinary reader needs to know anything at all about library classification is that, he should understand the necessity for consulting the catalogue with its subject entries and cross-reference cards instead of relying on the shelves, and for copying accurately the call numbers from the catalogue on his call slip or charging slip. It may be added that in the library records every book is designated not only by a call number but also by a serial number called the "accession number." This number, assigned to each volume at the time it is catalogued, distinguishes the book from all others in the library HOW TO USE A REFERENCE LIBRARY 129 written by the same author in the same class, and even from duplicates. It is sometimes entered on a label pasted in the back of the book, and if the rules so require should be copied on the charging slip in addition to the call number. This require- ment, however, applies only to books borrowed for home use, and does not prevail in many libraries. 97. Correct form for a select bibliography. As one works among general reference books and at the card catalogue case, looking up titles of books and parts of books dealing with a given subject, it is of course necessary to take notes of these titles. Such notes will be easier to arrange later in the systematic form of a select bibliography of the subject if neatly and uniformly recorded. There are several ways of doing this, two of which may be described as follows: (i) Small cards, or small sHps of paper of uniform size, may be used for the first draft of the bibliography, a separate card or slip for each title. In this case one may follow the general arrangement of the catalogue card, placing in an upper corner the call number, and copying carefully the author's name, with initials, the title of the book, and the date. None of the supple- mentary material found on some catalogue cards, such as the number of pages, publisher, etc., need be included. If this form of bibliography is used, each card representing an encyclo- pedia will also contain, arranged on separate lines, the titles of the separate articles to be consulted, with the volume and page for each. In the case of a card representing a book deahng ^ only in part with the subject, nothing more than the call number, author, title, and date can be entered while one is working at the catalogue; but later, when one examines the book itself, the proper reference by chapter or pages will be added. A select bibliography made in this way on cards may, if the cards are large enough (three by five inches), and if the data above named are compactly entered at the top, be made to serve also for brief notes taken from the books when read. Further discussion of 130 FRESHMAN RHETORIC this advantage of using cards is postponed until we come to the question of note-taking (Section io6). (2) Large sheets of paper ruled in vertical columns may be used. In this case the page should be large enough (eight by ten and one-half inches) to enable all the information to be got into a single line, if possible. The same arrangement of items is suitable : first column, the call number ; second column, author's surname, followed by initials; third column, the title, which if long may run over to a second line in the same column; fourth column, the date; fifth column, to be left blank for entering volume and page, when necessary, at the time of consulting the book. The reason for noting the call number in every case is that by including it one is enabled, without going back to the catalogue, to write a call slip for the book when it is wanted, or to find it on the open shelves. Whether one form or the other is used — small cards or large sheets — the first draft, hurriedly written, perhaps in pencil, and lacking logical arrangement, will need to be classified and copied in orderly form for submission to the instructor. The original notes should be preserved for the student's use in reading up the subject. A suitable arrangement of the material for a bibli- ography covering books alone would be, (i) the general encyclo- pedias and other works of general reference; (2) books dealing wholly with the subject, if any; (3) books dealing in part with the subject. 98. Selecting the best books. We have now learned enough about catalogues and classification to enable us with sufficient practice to ascertain what books the library has on a given sub- ject, and to find them on the open shelves. But a second ques- tion, not yet touched upon, is, which of these books are die best for our purpose? How shall we select, from the catalogue entries in a closed-shelf library, or from the shelves in an open-shelf library, three or four books out of a dozen or a score? The question is answered, (0 by noting certain principles of selec- HOW TO USE A REFERENCE LIBRARY 131 tion; and (2) by consulting certain guide-books to the best books. The date of a book has some bearing on its relative value. In science and the applied arts as a general rule only the latest books should be consulted. If there are no late books, one must depend upon periodicals and encyclopedias. The card catalogue gives the date of publication, (except when the book has no date, abbreviated "n. d."), and one may ehminate many titles without even examining the books. The date of publication, however, is sometimes misleading. Some publishers issue new editions from old plates without revision. It is always best in case of doubt to look in the book itself for the date of copyright, or the date of the author's preface. Late books are indispensable not only in science, but in economics, sociology, and such branches of government as municipal administration and nominating systems. In these latter fields, however, not all old books are to be disregarded. Some knowledge of the subject, gained through the encyclopedias, will enable one to decide how old a book may be without rendering it obsolete. In history, litera- ture, biography, philosophy, and similar departments, on the other hand, the date has much less significance. New books or new editions have a certain presumption in their favor here, as everywhere else; but the standard works may be twenty-five, fifty, a hundred years old. In a matter like literary biography, for example, the authoritative "life and letters" is often issued within a few years of an author's death, and can never be super- seded, though later biographers may correct its errors and sup- plement its deficiencies. Authorship also helps in selection. As between the book of a great scholar who has added to human knowledge, and a com- piler who has popularized other men's discoveries, the first should nearly always be chosen. It will be harder reading, but more worth while. The student will get enough popularizing in his encyclopedia and periodical reading. He should consult, 132 FRESHMAN RHETORIC if possible, at least one original source. As between an English or American book on the one hand and a translation from some foreign language on the other, the choice will depend upon the subject. It is often valuable to compare the treatment of a historical or economic subject by writers of different nations. On controversial subjects, or controversial aspects of matters upon which there is general agreement, it is important to read something on each side; but subjects primarily controversial should hardly be undertaken by freshmen still engaged in the study of exposition. As between two WTiters neither of whom is an original investigator, one can sometimes decide which is apparently the more prominent or more experienced by examin- ing the sketches of the two men in Who's Who in America or American Men of Science. These are principles of selection that may be applied upon inspection of the catalogue, without looking at the books them- selves. Additional help in determining which books one shall read may be had by choosing the most promising titles and caUing for, or hunting up, half a dozen or more books, to be examined for their relative convenience in study. Typograph- ical form is worth considering. A book which has no index and no table of contents is a hard book to use ; it may be indispensable, nevertheless, if it is clearly the most authoritative. Books which divide their chapters into sections with suitable subheads, which print quoted matter in a smaller type, which contain maps, diagrams, or helpful illustrations, are obviously more convenient for use than those which lack such features. Well printed books, with clear type properly spaced between the hnes, are to be preferred to those which strain the eyesight. In these and other ways a brief examination of five or ten books will help one to select the two or three on which most of one's time should be spent. 99. Guide-books to the best books. In determining which of all the books catalogued are the best, not only the principles HOW TO USE A REFERENCE LIBRARY 133 above stated may be applied, but also in some cases the expert opinions of scholars. The bibliographies attached to the articles in the encyclopedias, for example, are of much value in this connection. Some of the books there recommended may not be in the library, but such as are to be found have a con- siderable presumption in their favor. Another way of deter- mining which books are the best is to give due weight to the collective judgment of librarians, as expressed in a series of printed catalogues published by the American Library Asso- ciation. This series, enumerating thousands of books with brief comments and summaries, is as follows: The A. L. A. Catalogue: 8,000 Volumes for a Popular Library (Published in 1904 as a government document; commonly known simply as The A. L. A. Catalogue) The A. L. A. Catalogue: 1904-1911 (A supplement to the original work, published in 1912 by the American Library Association Publishing Board) The A. L. A. Book List (annual bound volumes, from 1905 to the present time, of a monthly periodical listing the best books of the month with brief comments. The supplement above named is more convenient for the years 1905-191 1.) It is true that the A. L. A. Catalogue and the Book List have been compiled primarily for the information of librarians in ordering books rather than of readers in choosing them ; but the original work, for older books, and the supplement and cut rent issues for books of the past few years, are nevertheless valuable to students. In particular it is desirable that readers desiring to keep up with the best things in recent literature, and unable in any other way to distinguish the good from the worthless, should occasionally look through the recent numbers of the Book List, making memoranda for future reading. The starred books are not necessarily the best, but are those which even small libraries are advised to purchase. Another publication useful in selecting recent books is the .Soo^ 134 FRESHMAN RHETORIC Review Digest, a monthly, cumulated at the end of each year, which selects extracts from the most representative reviews and criticisms of new books. The A. L. A. Catalogue, Book List, and Book Revircc Digest, being much used by librarians, may be shelved elsewhere than in the reading-room, but may be exam- ined upon recjuest. They are almost the only means, aside from personal advice, of finding out what recent books are worth reading; for single book-reviews and book-advertisements are often misleading to the reader who depends on them for guidance. In this connection it is well to repeat that the annual articles on literature in the New International Year Book and the American Year Book, already mentioned, are another valuable means of selecting the titles of the best books in any special field pub- lished during a particular year. 100. Public documents. On all topics in American history, law, politics, finance, manufactures and commerce, agriculture, labor questions, education, and many branches of science, the use of public documents is important. The federal government issues vast numbers of legislati\-e and executive documents, department and bureau reports, which are often the most valuable material in the entire library in the special fields which they cover. Particularly useful are the bulletins of the Bureau of Education and of the Department of Agriculture. vState documents are also important in preparing for debates on matters of state legislation or administration. Libraries have their own ways of shelving and cataloguing public documents. The card catalogue, of course, indexes them under the proper subject. Nevertheless, so great is their number, and so complex their classification, that in many cases serious and conscientious students attempting to use them for a special purpose gi\'e up in despair. IMuch of the difficulty surrounding the subject has been lessened by the new ClicckUsi of United States Public Documents, lySg-igoc), and the annually cumulated volumes of the Monthly Catalogue of United States HOW TO USE A REFERENCE LIBRARY 135 Documents, issued since 1895 by the Superintendent of Docu- ments. This latter series is fully indexed, and forms a real guide to the use of public documents issued in recent years. In using pubUc documents, more than anywhere else, the student needs the aid of a competent and industrious reference librarian. Undergraduates should do for themselves whatever they can, but they are hkely now and then to come to the end of their resources. That is the time to ask intelligent questions. 101. Library of Congress bibliographies. Among the most valuable public documents for library use are the special bib- liographical lists issued by the Library of Congress. These are catalogued under "United States — Library of Congress." On any such subject as the Philippines, international arbitration, immigration, child labor, municipal ownership, workingmen's in- surance, there will be found a Library of Congress bibliography, usually entitled List of Books on — or Select references relating to — . There is one on books dealing with the World War; one on the Monroe doctrine; one on economic reconstruction. Indeed, almost any topic in the fields of politics, economics, and social science can be found treated in one of these lists. Their disadvantage for students working on limited time is that they contain so many titles of books and pamphlets not found in the ordinary library; but for thorough research they are of the utmost value. A reader desiring to use one of these bibli- ographies, the title of which has been ascertained from the catalogue, should make written application for it on a call slip, since they are not often kept on open shelves, and being thin books are not readily found. 102. Indexes to periodicals. Every large library has hun- dreds of bound volumes of magazines, often complete sets run- ning back for many years. These contain much valuable material never incorporated into books. Moreover, the un- bound cuirent numbers of magazines for the past few months, Still on the magazine stands and shelves, are the only source — 136 FRESHMAN RHETORIC aside from newspapers — for subjects too recent to have found their place in year books or other bound volumes. Students looking up subjects dealing with the past should consult some of the older periodical hterature in addition to other sources; and for the investigation of current topics one must rely chiefly on current magazines. For both purposes it is necessary to have some knowledge of the standard indexes to periodicals. Since 1900 there has been considerable activity among the publishers in meeting the increasing demand for such indexes, and to enumerate all of them would only prove confusing. In the following explanation simplicity is aimed at by omitting some indexes that o\'erlap those named, and some others cataloguing special classes of periodicals of limited interest. For all periodicals before 1900 the standard index is Poole's Index to Periodical Literature. It indexes in sLx volumes the contents of many English and American magazines (190 in the latest volume) from 1802 to 1882; 1882-1887; 1887-1892; 1892- 1896; 1897-1902; 1902-1906. For magazines beginning with 1900 the best index is the Readers' Guide to Periodical Literature. Volume V of Poole and the 1900- 1904 volume of the Readers' Guide overlap. There is, however, an abridged edition of Poole, the first volume of which ends with the close of the year 1899, the point at which the Readers' Guide begins. If this edition is used, there is no duplication; but the abridged Poole, of course, covers a much smaller number of periodicals. Notice the rule, therefore, for using these indexes in order to avoid duplication: (i) For magazines before 1900, Poole's Index to Periodical Literature, volumes I to V, or the abridgment in one volume. (2) For magazines beginning with 1900, the Readers' Guide to Periodical Literature: several large volumes, each combining the titles of four or five years, as follows: 1900-1904; 1905-1909; IQ10-1914; 1915-1918; etc.; single annual volumes since the last cumuhition; andtheunbound paper-covered current issue. The Readers' Guide is published monthly, and at the end of each HOW TO USE A REFERENCE LIBRARY 137 quarter a cumulative number is issued containing in one alphabet all the titles for the preceding months of the year. The current number, usually kept in a file binder, is of course the one most in demand among readers investigating current topics. One of several ways in which the Readers' Guide is an improvement on Poole is that it is really a dictionary catalogue combining authors, titles, and subjects. One can find in it, for example, all the articles written by or alDout a certain author during the year. This is often convenient in literary work. In addition to the 103 periodicals and volumes of reports, proceedings, etc. indexed in the Readers' Guide, a large number of other periodical sources can be drawn upon through other indexes, here mentioned by way of supplementary information. The indexes mentioned in this paragraph, unhke Poole's and the Readers' Guide, are more or less special or technical, and need not be used in ordinary reference work by college freshmen. They are, however, most important in studying the special classes of subjects which they cover, and every student should know where to find them when the need arises. First among these additional helps in using periodicals is an index begun in 1907 as the Readers' Guide Supplement, now known as the International Index to Periodicals. In this index, published bimonthly, there are listed articles in 197 periodicals and publica- tions of learned societies, including many published in England, France, Germany, and Italy. It is useful largely in somewhat advanced research. Three examples of technical indexes cover- ing special classes of periodicals are the Industrial Arts Index, the Agricultural Index, and the Engineering Index. Next among these supplementary guides to periodical literature may be mentioned the monthly bulletins, cumulated annually, of the Public Affairs Information Service. On many topics in muni- cipal government, social reforms, domestic and foreign industry and commerce, these are more comprehensive than any of the indexes previously named. They cover, however, not only 138 FRESHMAN RHETORIC current periodicals and reports of societies and corporations, but many pamphlets and other kinds of material not likely to be found in an ordinary library. In using any of the indexes named in this paragraph the student should remember that before spending much time in noting titles taken from them he should ascertain, from the hbrary catalogue or from the reference librarian, which of the periodicals indexed are accessible in the library. The last supplementary guide to current periodicals which can be named here is the iVew York Times Index, published quarterly since 19 13. The value of this is not limited to libraries in which complete files of the Times are preserved; for it serves to fix the exact date of any important recent event, a newspaper account of which may then be looked for in the files of any accessible newspaper. Sometimes in looking up a current topic little or nothing can be found in the Readers' Guide, because weekly and monthly periodicals have passed over the matter with slight mention; newspapers must then be consulted, and the Times Index saves the trouble of searching the files for weeks or months before and after the supposed date. In any case, sufiiciently important, in which back numbers of newspapers are inaccessible at the library because of delays in binding, or for other reasons, complete files can usually be consulted on request at the office of a local newspaper. 103. Relative value of periodicals. In selecting from the numerous magazine articles on one's subject indexed in the works above named a few to be read in preparation for an essay or report, there is much need for discrimination. Date and author- ship have as much importance here as in the selection of books; but the first volume of Poole's Index does not include authors' names, so that for the okler magazine literature before 1882 we have as a basis of selection only the title of the article, and such weight as can be given to the character of the magazine in which it appeared. In deciding from the index which bound HOW TO USE A REFERENCE LIBRARY 139 volumes of magazines are to be called for, or hunted up on the shelves, it is well to give preference to articles published in the more serious and scholarly periodicals. The Atlantic Monthly, North American Review, Forum, Survey, Yale Review, Nine- teenth Century, Edinburgh Review, Contemporary Review, Amer- ican Economic Review, American Historical Review, Political Science Quarterly, are examples of the kind of periodicals most likely to include valuable material. The illustrated magazines on the other hand, though occasionally containing admirable sketches of travel, biography, popular science, are in these days given over mostly to fiction, pictures, and advertisements. We read most of them for entertainment rather than for education. Ultimately the best things that appear in them, in the way of biographical serials and literary essays, are collected in book form. Magazines, however, change their character from time to time; the Popular Science Monthly, the Century, or the Outlook of the past generation could hardly be judged by their contemporary representatives. Readers who depend much on periodicals, whether of the past or of the present, for their principal sources of information are likely to do superficial work; but as adjuncts and supplements to the study of books the magazines cannot be ignored. It is well to form the habit of looking over each month the tables of contents of many current magazines, in order to acquire a useful knowledge of the special field of each. In a library in which readers are admitted to the shelves containing bound magazines, is it of course possible to base one's choice of material to be read upon a cursory inspection of articles covering many of the titles collected from the indexes; lacking this convenience, one must use one's judgment in selecting a few titles to be called for, and not be disappointed if now and then one draws a blank. 104. Correct form for a select bibliography of periodical references. Notes of selected titles of magazine articles, made while consulting the indexes to periodicals, should be in one or I40 FRESHMAN RHETORIC the other of the alternative forms suggested for notes of book titles in section 97, Whether on separate cards, or on successive lines of a sheet ruled in vertical columns, the data to be recorded are similar, A somewhat different arrangement, however, may be more convenient, such as the following: (i) in accordance with the order followed in the indexes, the title of the article; (2) the author's name and initials, if stated; (3) the abbreviated name of the periodical; (4) the volume and page; and (5) if given in the index, the date. Whether the date recorded shall be merely the year (to indicate the relative timeliness of the article), or the month as well (as an aid in finding the article, especially in unbound magazines), depends on circumstances. For the older titles, before 1900, taken from Poole, the date cannot be ascer- tained from the index entry itself. To refer to the "Chronolo- gical Conspectus" at the beginning of each volume of Poole, in order to ascertain the date from the number of the volume, would not be worth the labor, except in the case of an article which one has decided to read. For titles taken from the Readers' Guide, however, the date should be included; and dates of older articles should be noted whenever the article itself is examined. Note that in a bibliographical list containing many titles, either of books or of articles in magazines, it is not necessary for the student to underline all book titles and quote all the titles of magazine articles, as is customary in writing such titles in connected discourse. But a book title or title of a magazine occurring in the text of an essay should be underlined, and the title of an article, or a chapter in a book, should in that case be quoted. The usual rules of capitalization should be followed in copying titles, rather than the special "library style" in which small letters are used for all words after the first, except proper nouns and proper adjectives. This'iil^rarystyle" has not come into general use in book printing, though some authors follow it in citations occurring in footnotes. HOW TO USE A REFERENCE LIBRARY 141 105. Distribution of time in reading. For the ordinary essay or report one cannot spend a great many hours in pre- liminary reading. The compilation of titles from the catalogue and from the indexes to periodicals has already consumed a considerable amount of time — time well spent, not wasted, if it has succeeded in familiarizing the student with the machmery of the library. But suppose that there remain only ten hours, spread out over ten days or so, during which one must do all the reading and take all the notes necessary for a good essay. How should the time be apportioned in older to get the best results? Roughly speaking, one hour on' the encyclopedias (several articles) ; six hours divided between the two best books that one can fmd dealing most fully with the subject; one hour spent in looking up brief passages in other books; two hours on the maga- zines. Such a proportion would have to be altered in many cases according to circumstances, but it indicates in general the kind of selective reading and judicious skipping that every student should learn to practice in tasks of compilation. The things to be avoided, as already mentioned, are (i) too much time spent on encyclopedias; (2) too much time spent on a single book, even though it be the best; (3) too much time spent on magazine articles. On the other hand, no haste ought to be permitted to interfere with understanding what one reads, or with the collection of illustrative material sufficient to clothe the dry bones of the subject with flesh and blood. 106. How to take library notes. In order to collect library material for an essay based upon reading it is necessary to have a systematic method of note-taking. Much time and effort will be wasted if one takes such notes in just the same way that notes are taken on ordinary collateral reading for lecture courses. The natural procedure in this latter case is to head a page in the note- book with the title of the book to be read, and then to enter on that and succeeding pages all the material selected from the pas- sage read. Notes preparatory to an essay, on the other hand, 142 FRESHMAN RHETORIC should preferably be topically arranged and classified at the time of writing; and the only way to do this is to have a separate card or page for each distinct division of the subject. Cards of the size used in library catalogues (three by five inches), pur- chasable at aay commercial stationer's, are excellent for library notes. Somewhat less desirable, but still usable, is a small loose- leaf notebook, of pocket size. In either case, only one side of the card or sheet should be written on. The object of using a small size is to insure the placing of but one subdivision of the subject on each card, and to promote convenience in handling the material. If cards have been used in making the select bibliography of the subject (section 97), these same cards may be used for the first note taken from each book; subsecjuent notes from the same book to be on other cards, headed with a short title of the book, or merely with the author's name, together with the page number. A suggested printed form of heading for such cards combining the necessary bibliographical data with a suitable caption for the substance of the note, is as follows: Subject: Subdivision: Author: Title: Library call-number of book or name of periodical Vol. P. Date Such cards would be filled out as in the following examples: Subject: Medieval London Subdivision: London Bridge Autlior: Gardiner, S. R. Title: StiidcnVs History of England Library call-number of book or name of periodical: \-ol. 942 P. 272 Date 1895 London Bridge hrgiin Wj6, finished 1209. Replaced older wooden bridge. Begun by priest, Pdcr Colechurch. Built by gifts of leading men. Houses built on bridge, rentals used for repairs. HOW TO USE A REFERENCE LIBRARY 143 Subject: Medieval London Subdivision : Charterhouse Author : Gardiner, J. Title: Martyrs of the Charter- house Library call-number of book or name of periodical: Acad. Vol. p. Date 35 405 1889 Charterhouse originally a Carthusian monastery. Carthusian discipline most severe of all orders. Last prior, John Houghton, martyred under Henry VIII. Other Carthusians martyred in same year, 1535. A blank card without printed heading would have to be some- what less compactly arranged, perhaps as follows (omitting the main subject, and using merely the subdivision as a caption): Westminster Abbey Lucas, E. v.: A Wanderer in London. 191 1. 914.21 pp. 281-288 Monuments to statesmen and poets mixed in with those of obscure men. Tombs of Mary Queen of Scots, Charles II, Elizabeth, the princes murdered in the Tower. Chapel of Henry VII most beautiful part of Abbey. Wonderful carving in wood and stone. Chapel of Edward the Confessor behind the altar, oldest part. Tombs of Edward I, Queen Eleanor, Edward the Confessor, Henry V. Coronation chair kept here. Essential to the success of this method is the heading of each card with some brief caption summarizing the principal subject of the note. This caption will serve as a guide, so that further material on the same point found elsewhere in the book or article can be placed on the same card. If there is no room for such additional material, another card with the same heading will be written. A memorandum or quotation from a single passage too long to be written on a single card may be continued on a second card, headed by the same title followed by " — 2," and 144 FRESHMAN RHETORIC fastened to the first by a wire paper-clip. Cards, used in this way, each with its caption, and written only on one side, will be found far more convenient than most other forms of notes when the work of compilation is complete. They can be sorted out and arranged in groups or columns on a table, suggesting in themselves a preliminary outline of the subject. Only in case the student is unable to write the small, neat, yet legible hand that is requisite for cards will it be preferable to use loose-leaf pages of larger size. In the form of the notes, abbreviations may be freely used to save time and space; important words may be underlined; and serial points, even though not numbered in the text, may be written on separate short lines and designated as i, 2, 3, etc. Such devices assist in the process of rapidly but accurately summarizing in one's own words the substance of the text. Whenever sentences or phrases are, for some special reason, copied verbatim from the book, quotation marks should always be placed in the notes, both before and after the copied matter. This precaution is to guard against inadvertent use of borrowed material as one's own, due to failure to mark it as such in the notes. 107. Thou shalt not steal. A final word, at the close of this chapter on the proper use of the library, may well take the form of the eighth commandment. To copy without quotation marks, or equivalent acknowledgment, the words of another and to pass them off as one's own is nothing more nor less than plain stealing. The polite name for it is plagiarism, which means kidnapping (see dictionary). That when discovered it will of course lead to loss of all credit for the whole piece of work, and probably to other discipline in addition, is not the whole of the matter. A httle consideration should show any intelligent person that a supposedly original essay which is only a mosaic of other people's words can in no way helj) one to learn to write well. Time so spent is time worse than wasted; for the worst of HOW TO USE A REFERENCE LIBRARY 145 all cheats is the cheat who cheats himself. A college course in composition offers to every student, good and bad, wise and foolish alike, a few chances to learn a little about the difficult art of writing English. One's own work, honestly done, may sometimes fail of adequate recognition, and one may feel dis- appointed, aggrieved perhaps, at the fancied injustice. But such a writer retains at least the respect of his teacher, of his classmates, and of himself. The cheat will sooner or later lose all three. One Hundred Subjects for Essays Based on Reading 1. Banking in Medieval Europe 2. The Inns of Old England 3. Prehistoric Man 4. Communistic Experiments in America 5. Tenement House Reform 6. Safety in Modem Railroading 7. Financial History of the American Revolution 8. The Liquor Traffic m Great Britain 9. Agriculture in Ancient Egypt 10. The Nationalist Movement in India 11. Medieval Magic 12. History of the Swastika 13. Celtic Notions of the Other World 14. The Jukes Family 15. Old Age Pensions 16. Greek Coins 17. The Ice Age in North America 18. William Morris's Kelmscott Press 19. AboHtionists before the Civil War 20. Utopian Commonwealths 21. The Cli£f-DweUers 22. Cooperative Stores in England 23. The Gypsies 24. The Ku Klux Klan, Old and New 25. The Hague Conference 26. Persian Poetry 27. Japanese Prints 146 FRESHMAN RHETORIC 28. The Legend of El Dorado 29. The Damming of the Nile 30. Icelandic Literature 31. Anti-Semitism in the Middle Ages 32. Modern Scandinavian Music 33. Origin of the Arthurian Legends 34. The History of Christmas 35. Ibsen's Influence on Recent Drama 36. Heretical Mohammedan Sects 37. The History of Wood Engraving 38. Negro Education in the South 39. The Religions of China 40. Latin-American Literature 41. Old Chinese Porcelain 42. Education in Modem Greece 43. The Bohemians 44. French Influence in American History 45. Moorish Architecture in Spain 46. American Artillery, 1775- 191 8 47. Universities in the Middle Ages 48. The Public Library Movement in America 49. Early Civilization in Crete 50. Medieval Miracle Plays 51. The Races of Jugo-Slavia 52. Canals as Competitors of Raihroads 53. Feminism 54. The Evolution of the Electric D3aiamo 55. Yellow Fever 56. Roman Ruins in North Africa 57. American Political Parties before i860 58. Marble in Sculpture and in Architecture 59. The Sonata Form in Musical Composition 60. Legal Education in the United States 61. Prehistoric Monuments of Great Britain 62. The Cambridge Group in American Literature 63. The Greek Religious Mysteries 64. Our Trade with South America 65. Zionism 66. Japanese Control in Korea 67. The Work of the United States Patent Office 68. The Psychology of Color HOW TO USE A REFERENCE LIBRARY 147 69 70, 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80, 81 82 83 84, 85 86 S7 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 Musical Education in the Public Schools Volcanos The Gallipoli Campaign American Colonial I-'urniture The Effect of the War on Chemistry English Costume in Shakespeare's Time The Pipe Organ Reforestation in the United States The Education of Women in France To-Day The History of Chess American Sculpture since 1850 The Kingdom of the Hejaz Theodore Roosevelt as a NaturaHst The German Occupation of Belgium Australian Labor Legislation Vitamines Conquering the Sahara Seamen and Ships of Old Massachusetts The Work of the United States Geological Survey Ruined Cities of Central America The First Battle of the Marne The Effect of War on Aviation The Cossacks The Early History of Map-Making Atmospheric Dust The History and Theory of Perspective Roman Education The Aurora Borealis The Roumanians Pan-Germanism French Colonial Administration The Work of Luther Burbank Suggested Assignments Assignment 20. Study sections 85-89. Look up in each of the four dictionaries named in section 88 the words assigned by the instructor. Com- pare their etymologies, definitions, and illustrative examples. Note espe- cially any differences among them. Note the diacritical marks used by each to indicate pronunciation, as interpreted by the key or table explaining such marks. Make lists of the principal supplementary material found in the 148 FRESHMAN RHETORIC introduction and the appendix of the New International Dictionary and the New Standard Dictionary, such as lists of geographical and biographical names, tables of words differently pronounced, etc. Examine the index volumes of the Encyclopedia Britannica and the Encyclopedia Americana, and the Courses of Reading and Study published as a volume of the New International Encyclopedia, consulting in each some title assigned by the instructor. Be prepared to state how these indexes differ, and what is the special value of each. Assignment 21. Study sections 90-93. Using encyclopedias or any of the general reference books named in sections 90-93, find answers to at least half of the questions in a Ust assigned by tlie instructor. Opposite each answer name the book in which you found it. Do this work independently, without asking or receiving assistance from any other student. Assignment 22. Study sections 94-97. Select an essay subject from the list at the end of this chapter, or from others suggested by the instructor. You will later be asked to write on this subject an essay based upon reading. Begin the preparation of a bibliography, copying from the card catalogue the authors, titles, etc., of all books dealing with the subject, and from general reference books the titles of selected articles, with volume and page. Make notes of this bibUography in one of the forms suggested in section 97. Keep a memorandum of all the time you spend on this bibliography in this and the following assignments. Assignment 23. Study sections 98-101. Continue the preparation of the bibliography, following up all cross-references and other clews. Examine some of the books on your subject in order to determine which are the best for your purpose. Assignment 24. Study sections 102-104. Make a bibliography of refer- ences in periodicals dealing with your subject, using as many volumes of Poole and the Readers^ Guide as can be covered in the time available. Any time spent in waiting for an opportunity to use the indexes to periodicals should be used in arranging and copying the first part of the bibliography dealing with book references. Assignment 25. Hand in a copy of the complete bibliography, stating at the end how many hours you have si>cnt on it. Keep your original notes of the bibliography for your own use. Study sections 105-107. Begin reading up the subject. CHAPTER VII EXPOSITION BASED ON READING 108. Clearness, interest, and force make a good essay. In any kind of writing or speaking we must first of all make our- selves understood : we must be clear. In order to have an essay read with attention and pleasure we must be interesting. If we expect to leave a definite impression on the reader's mind, a touch of the personality that has shaped the material and made the dry bones live, we must achieve force. There is nothing artificial or accidental about these three prerequisites of success in composition; they arise from the nature of the human mind. Test them by the attitude we all take toward a book or a magazine article that is recommended to us. A few paragraphs may be enough for our patience, if our verdict is, "I can't make out what this fellow is driving at; he doesn't seem to have thought the thing out; it's all mixed up." On the other hand, an article in an encyclopedia is pretty sure to be clear, but unlikely to be interesting to a reader not already attracted to the subject by some motive outside the article itself. "What has this to do with me?" is the challenge which our rebellious and generally indolent minds address to him who would have an hour of our time. If it is an interview he desires, we cannot always get rid of him in any easier way than to listen; but if he comes to us in the form of a book, or a dozen sheets of manuscript, we can lay down all that laboriously inscribed paper with the fatal verdict, "It's dull." This we can do even if the writer is clear. A pane of glass is clear, but we do 149 I50 FRESHMAN RHETORIC not waste much time looking through it unless there is some- thing worth looking at on the other side. Even a composition which is both clear and interesting may win only passing attention if at the end we feel that it lacks climax, ends weakly, leaves the impression of a colorless person- aUty behind it. Force in writing or speaking is the force of personality. It is the man speaking through that strange cipher of the spirit, the alphabet. If he has force, we feel it. If he has brains, we know it. If he believes in himself, and in what he has to tell, we listen and remember. 109. "Why should anybody read this?" It is time to reverse the question with which we approached at the outset the problem of composition: the question "Why should I write this?" Ask instead "Why should anybody read this?" Our self-centered, egotistical interest demands clearness, interest, force, from other people when they approach us with something which we are at liberty to read, or to leave alone. Our neighbor's standard is no lower; he will not read anything but our best — he may not even read that, but at least we have a chance at him, one chance. Some one smiles here; who expects anybody but the teacher to read a college essay? The teacher is paid for it. Is he? W^ho pays him? No professorial salary could pay a teacher with any literary sense for reading some of the rubbish that lazy freshmen write. But he is paid whene\'er he can find two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff; he is paid when he recognizes indi- viduality trying to express itself, dawning intellectual curiosity trying to answer, or even to ask, the questions that lead towards truth. "Why should anybody read this?" is not altogether a meaningless inquiry, even though only an instructor's pleasant evening is to be spoiled by your blunders, or cheered by your success. It is well, however, always in writing to use enough imagination to fancy oneself submitting the article to a maga- zine for publication, or offering it in competition for a prize. EXPOSITION BASED ON READING 151 There is always a prize, even though you have to pay for it yourself: the prize of just pride in a hard job well done. 110. Exposition is more than compilation. Now that we are engaged upon an essay based on reading, it is important to see what more must go into the essay than is taken from the notes. Digestion is the word; assimilation. Gathering materials from books is called compilation; whereas the process of working over those materials into such shape that the subject itself emerges in a fresh and interesting form, because of the writer's individual point of view, and his desire to attract a particular kind of reader, leads to exposition. To expound is to set forth; to free the sub- ject from the dusty wrappings of the past, from ignorance, prejudice, and indifference; to place it in the sunbeam, where it will shine a while. Light is what it needs. Whatever, then, you have been reading about, you must also think about; you must reflect, for the light is reflected light. It is just here that many young writers miss the point of good writing based on reading. "It is- not my own," they say; "it is all other men's ideas, and all I can do is to paraphrase, to substitute my poor words for their good words. What's the use?" This feeling of the uselessness of all writing that does not even pretend to be original in substance is natural enough, but it is wrong. A writer who has read extensively enough to collect from five or six sources an abundance of material on his subject has no need to feel that he can render no useful service by writing about it. He can contribute at least two elements of value to the reader: (i) he can save the reader's time, by giving him in two thousand words a reasonably accurate sum- mary of what was found in ten or twenty thousand; and (2) he can rouse the reader's interest and imagination by adding the personal touch, the feeling that here is something unexpectedly modern, curious, surprising, useful and full of meaning to the modern world. Thus by temporarily substituting for the original question "Why should I write this?" another question. 152 FRESHMAN RHETORIC "Why should anybody read this?" the former question is really answered more adequately than before. I should write it in order that some one else may read it with profit and with plea- sure. There is all the difference in the world between an essay that is merely a transcript of the notes and one that represents a personal reaction upon the subject. It is like the difference between reading a museum catalogue and walking through the museum beside an expert guide. The guide hurries us past whole corridors of commonplace exhibits, and then gives us a fascinating quarter of an hour before the contents of a single case. He knows what to leave out. In this essay you are like that guide. Your reader is willing to be personally conducted through the haunts of your distant ancestors, the prehistoric men of the Old Stone Age; or to follow you to the equator or the pole, if you can commend to his somewhat blase mind your travelers' tales of tropical jungles or arctic ice. With you he will cheerfully swelter in India or shiver in Siberia, if you can only amuse him while he journeys. You must keep him happy, and curious to know where you will lead him next. He is yours for half an hour, if you can keep him awake. 111. Library notes take the place of the mental inventory. That miscellaneous catalogue of one's ideas about a subject which we found it necessary to write in Chapters II and IV is no longer possible. At that time we were collecting from the unexplored contents of our own minds all the material for com- position. On such subjects, however, as most of those in the list at the end of Chapter VI we had no ideas before we began to read; or perhaps one idea, which we soon found to be wrong. The inventory in this case is not of the contents of the mind but of the notes. "What have I to say?" is again the question; apparently not so hard to answer as in Chapter IV, for there is plenty of material, probably too much. Selection comes first; then arrangement; then the fully developed outline; then the EXPOSITION BASED ON READING 153 essay itself. If the notes have been systematically prepared, with a caption of some sort on every card or page, the process of selection and arrangement becomes relatively simple. 112. Narrowing down the subject. Readers who have used their time to advantage have already discovered that every subject in the list is enough for a book in itself. Every division in it is enough for a chapter of five thousand words; and they are expected to limit themselves to two thousand. No wonder that a first attempt to sketch out a survey of such a topic in a dozen paragraphs leads often to discouragement. Most stu- dents who have done the work thoroughly are likely to find that they have too much material. This is normal, usual, desirable. Literary workers know that it is necessary to have too much material in order to have enough. Public speakers know that a speech planned to occupy just fifteen minutes will be a poor speech unless it is condensed from material sufficient for twenty or thirty. This excess, then, that one discovers in examining the notes is to be met by judicious selection ; choosing the best and leaving out everything else. But this does not mean leaving out the picturesque anecdotes, the bits of description, the allu- sions and comparisons that are the very life of exposition. It means usually narrowing down the subject. Sometimes this requires altering the title; frequently it calls merely for a sen- tence here and there calling attention to aspects of the subjects that are omitted or passed lightly over because of lack of space. For example, "Prehistoric Man" is really a preposterous sub- ject for an essay of two thousand words ; and yet one would not advise a student to begin reading in this field with anything narrower as his goal. Somewhere in Osborn's Men of the Old Stone Age or the early chapters of Wells' Outline of History one finally gets into the spirit of the thing; one wanders, enchanted, back into those forgotten ages when (so they say} man was trying to learn how to walk on his hind-legs and to use his newly dis- covered thumbs. The notes j)ile up; Neanderthal man is recon- 154 FRESHMAN RHETORIC structed from a jawbone; Pithecanthropus eredus stmts proudly through the jungles of Java; we watch the cave-dwellers drawing their pictures of mammoths and tigers on the walls of their murky dens by the glare of torches. Millenniums roll by; it is like a colossal "mo\ne" in dreamland. Heedless of time and place we watch those visions, until the gong sounds to close the library. Fine! An evening gone, an evening gained forever; a breathless chase down the abysses of a vanished world — and all for what? Oh, that essay! Yes, there is too much to use. But the imagination is touched by the vastness of it, the wonder, the mystery of it; and that touch of imagination is everything. Now, in sober retrospect, we cut out without a sigh two-thirds or nine-tenths of our subject and plan an essay on "The Art of Prehistoric Man" or "The Human Cranium: a History of Civil- ization" or "Was There a Missing Link?" or "The History of Fire." Or, suppose a reader has started out to investigate the effect of the World War on chemistry. He will necessarily read much about chemical progress in England and in Germany before he decides to limit his discussion to the American acti^•ity in this field. He would have had to do this even if he had begun with "American" in his title. Further on in his reading he finds that of all the material he is gathering the most interesting has to do with three topics: dye-stufifs; rare drugs and synthetic compounds first made in this country when the German products could no longer be had; and poison gases and high explosives used in warfare. According to the scale on which he has read, and his own command of chemical technology, he will have to decide now, after the data are all in hand for an essay of five thousand words on the whole subject, which of two courses to follow. He may decide to write, in his two thousand words, a condensed summary covering all three of these subdivisions; or he may choose one of the three, plan to treat it fully, and change his title accordingly. EXPOSITION BASED ON READING 155 Sometimes the narrowing down of the subject is purely chrono- logical. A title such as "American Artillery, 1775-1918" leads to reading which may reveal that there is enough material on the artillery of a shigle war to make an essay better, because less superficial, than the one originally projected. These illustrations show how, even after the reading is complete, it is often a wise step to concentrate upon a part of the material. Occasionally, on the contrary, it will appear half way through the reading that there is not enough material accessible in the library to make a good essay. In such a case it is usually better not to change the subject entirely, but rather to take a larger subject of which the topic already investigated becomes a part. 113. Obvious divisions not always the best. Before one can begin the arrangement of the material, preliminary to making an outline, there must be some general grouping of details into large classes. Usually a chronological or mechanical division such as first suggests itself should be rejected in favor of one arising directly out of the subject. It is easy enough to divide almost any event or period into causes, immediate results, remote results; to write about a war or a battle simply on the basis "What happened before it? What happened during it? What happened after it?" But these formal divisions, useful in rough grouping of the notes, are not suitable for the final outline. Something less trite is needed for good exposition. To write about "Greek Coins," for example, merely on the chronological basis is to divide the subject into coinage of the earlier and ruder period, coinage of the age of classic perfection, decadent coinage. That is to be encyclopedic ; to be like the catalogue in a museum. Intelligent, discriminating guidance is our aim, not a dry list of names and dates. We must make the coins give up their secrets ; and it is no secret that they are respectively old, middle, and late. What the coins reveal, as to the rivalries of old city-states, as to the theories of economics, as to the art of sculpture in low relief, as to the sacred symbols of forgotten 156 FRESHMAN RHETORIC faiths — here we must experiment with one division after another until we find freshness, variety, force. As to the number of grand divisions, it is a help to recognize that three or four are usually enough for an essay of two thou- sand words ; for, with an added point for introduction and another for conclusion, the total is five or six. More than this may interfere with unity and force. Any preliminary division which seems to yield eight or ten points of coordinate importance is surely faulty; the remedy is either to narrow down the subject or to seek for some grouping of the material in a logical subordi- nation which will reduce the number of major groups. 114. Introduction and conclusion. A relatively long essay, unlike short themes, needs an introductory and a concluding paragraph. Inasmuch as these stand apart in some measure from the grand divisions of the main body of material, they should be recognized in the outlme as distinct units. Hence the subject for each must be in mind before the outline can be completed. It is often best, however, to work up the central portion of the outline first, reserving until the last the de- cision what point to use for the introduction and what for the conclusion. The purpose of an introduction is to attract interest to the subject. Hence it is never desirable to base the introductory paragraph on an abstract general state- ment, or a technical definition, or a dry historical summary. Often the topic to be sought for is some point of contact between the subject and the present age, or some parallel or analogy that appeals to the historic imagination. A discussion of the crusades might begin with General Allenby's entry into Jerusalem on December 8, 19 17. One could hardly write about the Hague conferences without an opening reference to the Peace Palace erected just before the great war, or to the League of Nations, or the Washington conference on disarmament. The Ice Age in North America is a cold subject; but in some parts of the United States it can be warmed up considerably at the very EXPOSITION BASED ON READING 157 beginning by pointing out a glacial moraine or an old lake beach in the vicinity. A paper on American colonial furniture might begin with an account of how the writer became interested in the subject by discovering an old piece of mahogany and trying to unravel its history. Whatever theme one chooses, the intro- duction must be concrete, and must lead up naturally to the subject. Strained and far-fetched introductions are worse than none at all. Sometimes the best way to begin is merely with a fresh, striking definition of the subject and an announcement of a division which promises an unusual treatment. A conclusion sums up the discussion, from a new point of view; or brings out an aspect of the subject having reference to the present or the future; or pays personal tribute to some great man whose figure stands out in the development of the essay; or embodies an apt quotation. Sometimes, between two topics suitable either for introduction or conclusion, it is hard to choose which shall come first and which last. That which has chiefly the quality of provoking curiosity about the subject may well be placed at the beginning, and that which more evidently depends for its full effect on the preceding development of the theme will make a conclusion. The art of leaving off is to stop with sufficient climax to avoid weakness, yet without drawing out the discussion to the point of diffuseness. A conclusion should usually in one way or another sum up the main line of the discussion, and lead to some corollary or other consequence arising therefrom which is in itself significant. In a chapter on "Browning's Theory of Poetry," in his book entitled Robert Browning: How to Know Him, William I^yon Phelps sums up the whole matter in this concluding paragraph: With the exception of Shakespeare, any other Enghsh poet could now be spared more easily than Browning. For, owing to his aim in poetry, and his success in attaining it, he gave us much vital truth and beauty that we should seek elsewhere in vain ; and, as he said in the Epilogue to Pacchiarotto, the strong, heady wine of his verse may become sweet in process of time. 158 FRESHMAN RHETORIC Tyndall ends a chapter on "Matter and Force" in Fragments of Science with this unifying idea : One fundamental thought pervades all these statements: there is one tap root from which they all spring. That is the ancient maxim that out of nothing nothing comes; that neither in the organic world nor in the inorganic is power produced without the expenditure of power; that neither in the plant nor in the animal is there a creation of force or motion. Trees grow, and so do men and horses; and here we have new power incessantly introduced upon the earth. But its source, as I have already stated, is the sun. It is the sun that separates the carbon from the oxygen of the carbonic acid, and thus enables them to recombine. Whether they recombine in the furnace of the steam engine or in the animal body, the origin of the power they produce is the same. In this sense we are all "souls of fire and children of the sun." But, as remarked by Helmholtz, we must be content to share our celestial pedigree with the meanest of living things. 115. Making the outline for a long essay. Having decided upon a good division, and having perhaps fixed upon a good point for an introduction, we are now ready to write the complete outline. Like the briefer outlines for short themes worked out in Chapters II and IV, it is to be written in complete sentences throughout. Of course a sentence will often run over from the main division to the subdivisions, in which case the latter are mere phrases, grammatically a part of the sentence in the pre- ceding line. The form of the outline should be the same as before: main divisions numbered with roman numerals, of which the introduction is I and the first point of the discussion is II, the conclusion V or VI. Secondary divisions are capital letters; then come arable numerals, then small letters: the order is I, A, I, c. One point should be carefully noted in regard to the outline: it should contain, in brief summary, everything that is to go into the essay, especially illustrations. The very purpose of making it so full and detailed is to select and arrange all the material, not merely a part of it. Consequently the outline will cover a good deal of space; perhaps, because of the white space left by indention, nearly as many pages as the essay itself. EXPOSITION BASED ON READING 159 This does not mean unnecessary labor; it means doing most of the work before the actual writing of the essay begins. A good outline for essays upon such subjects as those covered in this chapter is much more than hah the work of composition, and saves time in the end. 116. Paragraphing in relation to the outline. Although the outline represents the logical structure of the essay as a whole, it may be made also to serve as a guide in paragraphing. After the first draft of it is complete, the writer may go through it with the purpose of dividing the material into ten or twelve paragraphs, writing a paragraph sign in the left-hand margin where each new paragraph is likely to begin. In some cases a grand division will make but a single paragraph; in others a paragraph may be required for a minor subdivision. All depends upon the scale of proportionate emphasis which the writer has adopted in accordance with his purpose and the particular inter- ests of the reader. An example of a fully developed outline, with the corresponding paragraphs indicated by symbols in the margin, is the following analysis of a chapter in Bryce's The American Conitnonwcalth: Organs of Public Opinion in the United States Outline of Chapter Ixxix, The American Commonwealth (^i) I. Popular sovereignty implies adequate and unmistakable organs of public opinion. A. Such organs are more important in America than in Europe, for (^2) I. Public opinion governs here not only the elections but the conduct of officials between elections. II. Newspapers are the chief organs of public opinion in America. A. It is difficult to estimate their importance, for (^3) I. They not only express existing opinion, but try to form opinion by claiming to represent more constituents than they really do. , B. American newspapers are powerful organs of public opinion in three ways: i6o FRESHMAN RHETORIC (^4) I. They report events. a. Many newspapers report as news alleged events for which there is slight evidence. (^5) b. Although this lack of accuracy has evils, it probably prevents some great abuses by means of the fear of publicity. (^6) c. Political news is reported with greater detail than in Europe. (i) Not so many reports of speeches, but political gossip. (^7) 2. They advocate political doctrines. a. Their poHtical arguments are not more prejudiced or unfair than in Europe, but b. Have less influence upon public opinion because of dis- count; except that c. Editorial argument based upon actual misdeeds of poUti- cians has much weight. (^8) d. The partisan press is less powerful in America than in Europe, because (i) The public is more independent, and (^9) (2) The large city papers have more competitors. (a) Horace Greeley was the only recent partisan editor of large influence. (II10) 3- They reflect pubhc opinion. a. Partisan papers do this only in a minor degree, but b. There are three classes of semi-independent papers: (i) Papers usually partisan which occasionally "bolt"; (2) Papers primarily devoted to news; (3) Papers not professedly political, such as (a) Religious weeklies; (b) Monthly magazines. (1[il) c. During presidential con tests the attitude of the leading city papers is of great significance as an index of pubUc opinion. (^[12) d. American newspapers have a peculiar means of indicating public opinion by citing the nominally private poUtical letters or conversations of prominent men. (^13) C. American newspapers in general express and affect public opinion more fully than on the Continent, and not less fully than in England. EXPOSITION BASED ON READING i6i 1. Individual journalists are less powerful because of the greater independence of the people. 2. The moral level of the press is not above that of the average American citizen, but is above that of the machine pohtician. (^14) D. As in England, an impression of public opinion gained from the newspapers must be supplemented by conversation with intelligent observers of current affairs. III. Besides the newspapers there are various minor organs of public opinion. A. Some of these are less influential than in England. (1(15) I. Letters to legislators from constituents play a smaller part than in England as indicators of public opinion. (1|i6) 2. PubHc political meetings are less important than in England. a. They are not often held except during campaigns. . b. Campaign speeches are not argumentative, since the audience is assumed to be wholly partisan. B. Others are more important than in England. (^[17) I. Minor elections are regarded as important indications of pohtical opinion. (1[i8) 2. Associations of a philanthropic, economic, or social nature influence public opinion. (^19) a. They produce the impression of great and growing move- ments. b. They give impetus to new and weak enterprises. IV. The cities control public opinion less in America than in Europe. (Tf2o) A. The urban population is proportionately less. B. Newspaper reading, however, tends to give the cities power out of proportion to their population. V. It is somewhat easier to discern the trend of public opinion in America than in Europe, for (1f2i) A. There is freer intercourse among the classes. B. The proportion of non-partisans is smaller. C. Yet the size of the country and the even balance of parties pre- sent difficulties. (^22) VI. Public opinion governs in America, even though it is not always easy for the statesman to ascertain what that opinion is. i62 FRESHMAN RHETORIC The paragraphs in Mr. Bryce's chapter number twenty-two. The number of grand divisions may be reduced as above to six, though the material grouped together under III might be regarded as belonging under two or more general heads. Of the six grand divisions the first is an introduction and the last a con- clusion. It will be noted that some of the paragraphs in this chapter coincide with grand divisions, some with subdivisions, even with points so relatively subordinate as to be denoted in the outline by small letters. Such an illustration shows that to determine the best paragraphing for an essay of five or six divisions and but twelve paragraphs is by no means easy. It is usually the experience of those who write rapidly that some paragraphs prove to be unduly long and others unduly short. The remedy may be to redistribute the material, changing the provisional paragraphing indicated in the outline, and thereby achieving better balance. 117. Writing the essay. Even after the outline has been criticised and revised, one may find upon beginning to nvrite that the arrangement or the proportion there proposed can be improved. Never stick slavishly to a preconceived plan when a better is discovered. A radical change, however, unless based on a new written memorandum, may prove disappointing. The principal thing to work for in the first draft is animation, and this is best attained by rapid writing, unbroken by interruptions. Each paragraph is to have its transitional sentence or phrase, its topic sentence, and its development. All the principles of good paragraph-writing explained in Chapter V are here to be put in practice. Even at this stage, if it appears that for some indispensable paragraph there is not enough material in the notes for suitable development, it is worth while to go to the library and sj)en(l half an hour collecting examples or details bearing on the point. Here we see the value of the bibliography, and of the citations of specific passages in the notes. A common fault to be avoided is over-development of one point in order EXPOSITION BASED ON READING 163 to cover the slighting of another. It is better to leave out entirely an aspect of the subject which cannot be presented with enough fullness to be made interesting. 118. Self-criticism in English composition. Remembering the motto of this chapter — -"Why should anybody read this?" — we must now, after writing the first draft, undertake the most important task of all. We must judge our own work. Few freshmen do that; few students of any sort. Not until our success in some undertaking of real importance to ourselves is seen to turn upon our ability to speak or to write at our very best do we grasp the principle that only our best is good enough. So long as nothing more than an instructor's grade is set up as the goal, many are content with mediocrity. A common attitude toward what we have written is some- what like this: "Well, it might be better, and it might be worse. I've spent more time on it already than I could afford, and now about all I can do with it is to copy it and get it off my hands. Some other time, when I really want to, I can do a whole lot better work than that." This very moderate self-depreciation is not selfrcriticism. It does nothing to improve defects, and only injures one's intellectual self-respect by a half-serious apology for slack work. By praising an imaginary latent ability, not yet demonstrated in practice, we hope to deceive ourselves. Apart from the more or less frank admission that what we have written falls short of what we feel capable of doing, most of us do not know the meaning of self-criticism in com- position. What does it involve? (i) The first step in criticising a piece of one's own composi- tion is to read it aloud. How does it sound? Many an awkward sentence, many a carelessly repeated word, can be discovered in no other way. Merely to run the eye over the hastily written manuscript is quite inadequate. Unless a typewriter has been used for the first draft — and this is rarely done except by experienced typists — the words do not stand out on the page i64 FRESHMAN RHETORIC clearly enough to fix attention upon faulty passages, Reading aloud tests the length of the sentences: how many of them require more than a single breath each? It tests euphony : how often are there harsh combinations of consonants, unintentional rimes, wearisome repetitions of words ending in -ing or -tion? It tests the emphasis of the sentence: how often, after the real point of a sentence has been reached midway, does the voice trail off weakly into phrases tacked on as afterthoughts? Reading aloud tests interest. Even when we are tired of our job, and can scarcely distinguish good from bad by staring at the Avritten page, the voice brings out the difference. Here and there we receive unexpected encouragement: that is a good sentence, a good paragraph; it sounds better than it looks on paper. Particularly does this test by reading aloud help us to detect the presence or absence of final emphasis in the paragraph and in the whole composition. We can hear, though we could not see, that one paragraph ends well, ends with a snap like the crack of a whip, and another ends like a motor car firing on three cylinders. Question: which cylinder is missing? Reading aloud an essay of two thousand words takes less than twenty minutes; no one needs to feel that there is not time for it. Of course, to read aloud to a sympathetic but candid critic is in some ways far better than to read aloud to oneself; but often there is no opportunity for this, and besides, a vague word of praise or of disparagement such as one is most likely to get is of less value than the specific verdict of one's own ears at each stage of the discussion. In either case, as one reads aloud, every fault should be noted in the manuscript by a pencil check or query; a line drawn under a word or phrase, a circle drawn around it. The specific correction should usually be left until the reading is complete. (2) A second stage in self-criticism is to learn to distinguish the best. Somewhere in any piece of writing that has been sincerely and patiently done there is a paragraph or a sentence EXPOSITION BASED ON READING 165 that stands out above the rest. Whether by working harder over it, or by some lucky accident, we there excelled. Our literary conscience approves. If the whole thing were as good as that, we should not need to be ashamed of it. Such traces of excellence are to be looked for, not as cause for self -congratula- tion, but as a basis for improvement. Here, here only, is my true level; all the rest is beneath me; where else, then, can I lift tameness to force, dullness to distinction, ugliness to beauty? At these oases one may not linger, except perhaps to draw, from their infrequent wells, water to help irrigate the surrounding desert. Constructive criticism proceeds always by this method. It looks for the one true word, the exact word, and when it is found, seeks then to build other fit words around it. It seizes upon the one best sentence in an incoherent, rambling paragraph, and conceives a new paragraph beginning or ending with that sentence. In any kind of writing— not merely in this one long essay — this principle is worth remembering. Suppose one has been so reckless as to try to write verses. If they are rimed verses, the one inevitable line, that simply has to be kept, will dictate the rime for the rest of the stanza. Anything else may go but that. It is like refurnishing a room; there are just two things in that room that are really good, and must be preserved — one chair, and one rug. Furniture that will not spoil that chair, colors that will not quarrel with that rug, are what we seek. So, in the making of a tune, there is one chord that we have set our heart upon: all the rest of the harmony must so progress, so modulate, that the one best chord shall not suffer. Illustrations from the arts are not out of place; for by this time it dawns upon us that the best use of the best words is also an art. One caution in the application of this principle of choosing the best things in the essay and trying to raise the rest toward that level: we must not grow too fond of a merely neat or pretty 1 66 FRESHMAN RHETORIC phrase. Is it true? Is it in place here? Does it throw real light upon the pathway we must follow, or does it suggest alluring irrelevancies? Relentless self-criticism does not stop with the choice of what seems for the moment the best: it soon passes beyond that, and sets for itself higher standards. Says Francis Quarles: "Be always displeased at what thou art, if thou desire to attain to what thou art not; for where thou hast pleased thyself, there thou abidest." (3) A third stage in self-criticism, and the last to be men- tioned herCj comes after all radical revision is complete, and the rough draft has been copied. This is revision for errors of form — errors of spelling, capitalization, punctuation. Is there a comma not only before but after each appositive phrase? Are there quotation marks not only before but after each phrase or sentence that is not original? Are all book titles underlined? Are the sources of all quotations cited in footnotes, or in the margin? Is there a select bibliography of books consulted? Is the spelling as nearly perfect as careful scrutiny can make it? Is there not, even now, a misplaced modilier that should be transposed, by a line drawn around it and connected with a caret at the proper place? An experienced writer seldom finds a page of his own revised manuscript that does not need some such corrections in the final copy. Why should a beginner expect to be more fortunate? An hour spent in this sort of self-criticism before copying, and a quarter of an hour in hunting for errors in the copy, may make all the difference between success and failure in this enter- prise, representing as it does the work of many days or weeks. Without such revision, the writer's answer to the question, "Why should anybody read this?" must be 'T don't know, for I didn't read it myself." With it, the answer is, "Because I have done my best." EXPOSITION BASED ON READING 167 Suggested Assignments Assignments 26-28. Spend during the week at least six hours in reading for the long essay, keeping an accurate record of time. This reading should be done chiefly in the college Hbrary; for if the books are drawn out by one student, others writing on the same subject will be deprived of them. Assignment 29. Study Chapter VII, and finish the reading for the essay. Assignment 30. Hand in the outline for the long essay, preserving the original draft for reference. Assignment 31. Write the first draft of the essay. Re-read section 118. Assignment 32. Revise and copy the essay, and hand it in. CHAPTER VITI SPEECHES FOR SPECIAL OCCASIONS 119. Public speaking outside the classroom. Apart from oral work in the classroom, any freshman is Ukely to be called on from time to time to address his classmates and other audiences on matters of temporary or permanent interest. Some of the t5qDes of non-academic speaking most common during college years are as follows: Informal 1. The after-dinner speech on an assigned toast. 2. The after-dinner opening speech and introductions of a toastmaster. 3. The speech in a class or college meeting designed to stimulate college spirit, as for the support of athletics, dramatics, or other student activities. 4. The argumentative speech in a deliberative assembly of students on a debatable question of student poUcy, such as the adoption of an honor system, or the acceptance of a debating challenge. 5. The congratulatory speech to a victorious team, a successful prize winner, a successful candidate for office. 6. The presentation speech in awarding prizes, cups, medals, college initials, or class numerals, gifts to departing classmates. Formal 7. The nominating speech. 8. The initiation banquet speech of an initiate. 9. The charge to initiates by an upper classman. 10. The report of a delegate from a local society to a general convention. 11. The address at a high school, designed to attract students to a particular college. 168 SPEECHES FOR SPECIAL OCCASIONS 169 12. The political campaign speech to small but difficult audiences, such as ward meetings and street groups. 13. The brief platform address representing college interests in a conven- tion of religious or social workers. 14. Anniveisary addresses on Washington's and Lincoln's birthdays, Memorial Day, and Independence Day. These are types of speeches that any man may be called on to make while still in college. There are several other kinds that might present themselves as opportunities to a college man interested in public questions: 15. An impromptu speech before a college or general audience defending an individual or a cause that has been attacked; e.g., defending an unpopular strike, a new law, a judicial decision, a public man under fire, a heretical minister, an unpopular teacher, a radical book or play, an unsuccessful venture in philanthropy or reform. 16. A speech before an unruly or turbulent audience, as of noisy street boys or disorderly laborers, appealing for fair play, for a hearing for some other speaker, etc. 17. A speech appeahng for money or subscriptions for a worthy charity or other needy cause. 120. Speeches mingle exposition, argument, and persuasion. Notice that no academic speeches are here included, such as debates, declamations, and college orations. All of these seven- teen types are real speaking, not practice speaking, and aim at a definite result. Some are chiefly persuasive, others both argu- mentative and persuasive, still others purely expository; that is, some try to get people to act on their convictions, others try to change their convictions, and others merely impart infor- mation on non-controversial questions. An after-dinner speech, for example, ordinarily aims at no argument, or even persuasion, except as the giving of good advice may be regarded as per- suasion. Its purpose is to mingle diversion with mild exhor- tation in suitable proportions. Anniversary and commemora- tive addresses, again, are largely expository. Their persuasive I70 FRESHMAN RHETORIC appeal to patriotic emotion, sinceit cannotordinarilybegrounded on argument, must rest on a solid foundation of exposition in order to have any effect. A Memorial Day speaker must ex- plain what the day means in some slightly new or fresh or vivid way in order to touch the sentiments of his hearers. He has nothing. to argue, no attack to refute, no opponent but indifference and apathy. The same is true in congratulatory and presentation speeches: the main body of them consists of an exposition of the value of the work done, the service rendered, the success achieved. On the other hand, such types as Numbers 4, II, 12, 15, 16, 17, base persuasion strictly on conviction, and demand obedience to the laws of argumentation. Writing and speaking of this sort will be more valuable after some study of argumentative principles. We shall now undertake, therefore, the writing and delivery of a short speech of an expository character with a persuasive conclusion, such as those in the following list: (i) An after-dinner speech based on a specific toast or motto. (2) A nominating speech for an important office in some organization (preferably not the college class), (3) A congratulatory speech to a victorious team after a successful season. (4) An anniversary speech before a general audience on a national holiday. (5) A eulogistic or commemorative speech on some prom- inent man before a special audience: for example, on a former president of the college before college men; on a distinguished alumnus before a fraternity; on a famous general, or hero, or explorer, or missionary, before an audience of boys. These five tv^pcs may be briefly considered in turn: 121. The after-dinner speech. Ordinarily the subject is assigned in the form of a phrase or motto. When a speaker is allowed to choose his own topic, he usually makes his selection in accordance with the general scheme of the evening's program. SPEECHES FOR SPECIAL OCCASIONS 171 For this assignment, therefore, the student may well take an old banquet menu and pick out a title that has actually been used. This title will give him the clew for the humorous introduction often regarded as indispensable. A funny story or quotation is expected by many audiences at the beginning of any after-dinner speech. The tradition may be an irrational one, and its results are quite as often tragic as comic; never- theless, one must sometimes bow to the tyrant custom. Where one shall get the funny story, it is no part of the business of this book to reveal. The only hint that discretion permits is that there are some stories so old as to be almost new. After his anecdote or other introduction, the speaker undertakes a more or less humorous analysis of his subject into two or three parts; offers a few remarks on each; works in a serious word or two on loyalty, or honor, or the spirit of brotherhood; and ends with a periodic sentence of climax or appeal. The things to look out for are the first sentence, the serious or whimsical division of the subject (often alliterative), and the conclusion. The student is implored not to end with a sentimental poem if he can possibly avoid it. A bit of humorous verse, or an aptly quoted sentence of famous prose, sometimes rounds out a short speech better than any word of one's own. 122. The nominating speech. This should not be informal or humorous. The nomination should be for president of some local society or club of importance, or for mayor, or school com- missioner, or Congressman. The nominee should in no case be a college undergraduate, but some well-known citizen, perhaps an alumnus of the college. The speech should consist of two parts: an exposition of the duties and the importance of the office, and an exposition of those qualities of the nominee which fit him to occupy it. Such an office as that of school com- missioner perhaps offers the best opportunities for a good ex- position, inasmuch as it calls for a careful statement of the proper pubUc school policy; or that of prosecuting attorney or 172 FRESHMAN RHETORIC police judge, since the speaker must assume a definite attitude toward the question of law enforcement in disputed matters. 123. The congratulatory speech. In congratulating an individual or a group of successful fellow-students, one may dwell, first, on the difSculties which they have had to meet secondly, on the skill and industry with which they have labored, and thirdly, on the significance and value which their success imphes for the college and the community. In such a field as debating there is more to say in exposition of the unrecognized values of the contest than in athletics, or in non-competitive activities like musical and dramatic entertainments. This speech may well be enlivened by a little humor. 124. The anniversary speech. Nothing new can be said by young speakers about Lincoln, or Washington, or the Civil War, or the Declaration of Independence, or Armistice Day. Yet one is loath to believe that the time has passed when it is good for young men to feel and express for themselves the deeper meanings of American history. The difficult thing is to feel for oneself that which has become hackneyed and stale through long years of insincere commemoration. Let a man turn to Lincoln's own letters and speeches during the darkest period of the Civil War; or glance through the library files of war-time newspapers; or look at war pictures in Harper's Weekly or the Photographic History of the Civil War. Let him read in one of the larger histories the unvarnished account of Washington's difficulties with bickering generals, unscrupulous politicians, bankrupt treasuries, and treachery among his own friends. Let him go to the armory or museum where the battle flags of 1865 or 19 18 are furled. Let him, if he would realize more fully what patriotism means, read here and there in Walt Whitman's Drum Taps, or "I hear America singing," or "When lilacs last in the dooryard bloomed," or "By blue Ontario's shore." Or let him read Franklin K. Lane's speech on the American flag. Then let him write his anniversary speech. It is a hard but a high SPEECHES FOR SPECIAL OCCASIONS 173 task to interpret to a careless generation the great commonplaces that make America. 125. The eulogistic speech. In striving to make a great man's life stand out in clear outline, one should seize upon a single dominant characteristic. Let it be the man's faith in his fellows, or his moral courage, or his zeal for truth, or his self-sacrifice. Biographical details are of importance only as they contribute to this end. Nothing is duller than a bare, brief, narrative recital of dates and deeds in a man's career, without any organization, any interpretation, any perspective. The question is, Why should this man's name be remembered and revered by those who know little of what he did? What does he stand for, apart from the petty circumstances of his career? Let his life interpret his spirit. Examples and anec- dotes will then fall into place as explaining and reenforcing the man's intellectual or moral greatness. The eulogistic address tends to exaggeration. Let this be counteracted by comparison with still greater men in his own field, or with equals in other fields. Limitations are not to be concealed, nor are they to be emphasized. A calm, critical, cold-blooded estimate of a hero may be a very useful exercise in writing, but it is not so good a subject for public speaking. Here the appeal is frankly to ad- miration, not blind, but whole-hearted and sincere. 126. Delivery of the speeches. These speeches should be five minutes in length, six to seven hundred words. Inasmuch as the appeal in all is in some degree emotional as well as intel- lectual, the delivery should be more forcible, the gestures more numerous, than was possible in the speeches of Chapter II. Whether they should be memorized, or only assimilated by frequent private oral rehearsal, will depend on the aptitude of the student and the judgment of the instructor. In either case the preparation should be so thorough that no notes need to be consulted during delivery. The best test of success is the degree in which the speaker can make his audience forget that the 174 FRESHMAN RHETORIC speech is a classroom exercise, and enter into the spirit^ humorous or serious, of his subject. Suggested Assignments Assignment 33. Read Chapter VIII and prepare a five-minute speech of one of the five types suggested. Assignment 34. Rehearse speech oraUy. CHAPTER rX LETTER-WRITING 127. Correct form in business letters. In business letters it is best to avoid all abbreviation, except of such words as Mr. and Mrs., spelling out the names of months and states, and such words as street, avenue, company. Figures, however, should always be used for the day of the month, the date of the year, and house numbers. It is an undesirable affectation to write dates entirely in words. Excessive abbreviation implies haste and carelessness, but the use of figures for dates is not abbrevia- tion; it is established usage. The only exception is in the case of formal engraved or written social invitations in the third person. The inside address in a business letter should include the com- plete name of the person, firm, or company addressed, with the proper title before the name of a person, and the word Messrs. before the name of a firm; together with at least the name of the city of the addressee's residence, and preferably the street address. It is extremely crude to begin any kind of letter thus: Mr. Andrew Jackson, Dear Sir: Another point in connection with the inside address in letters to individuals is that the first name or initials of the person addressed must always follow the title. To begin a letter Prof. Wilson, Simpson University, Dear Sir: is inexcusable. If one does not know the initials, courtesy demands that a directory or catalogue be consulted in order to 175 176 FRESHMAN RHETORIC find them; unless, indeed, the acquaintance of the writer with the addressee, as pointed out in the next section, justifies the salutation My dear Professor Wilson, in which case the initials are of course not needed. They will, however, be needed for the outside address, in any case. 128. The salutation in letters to professional men. The salutations Dear Sir, Dear Madam, and Gentlemen are ap- propriate for all business letters. On the other hand, letters written to a professional man with whom one has even a slight acquaintance more often begin My dear Professor James, My dear Doctor Merriam, with the inside address transferred to the end of the letter, or omitted. Such letters as the follow- ing should begin in this way: letters to a college teacher in regard to college business; letters to a minister, physician, or lawyer with whom one has some acquaintance or ofl&cial relation; letters even to strangers under such circumstances as arranging for a debate with another college, mviting judges, requesting literary contributions to college publications. These are all business letters in the sense that they deal with definite transactions and arrangements not of a social character; but they rest upon a personal basis or relation, which demands the less formal salutation. On the other hand, an athletic manager ordering goods for a team, a solicitor requesting advertising for a student publication, a student ordering books from a pub- hsher, or applying for a summer position as canvasser, would of course begin with the complete inside address followed by Dear Sir or Gentlemen. The difference between the strictly commercial letter and the formal yet personal letter addressed to professional men is not easy to define precisely. Perhaps it will suffice to remember that one should use Dear Sir if a money consideration is the principal thing involved on the part of the addressee; and My Dear Mr. ... if the element of professional skill, courtesy, or accommodation is dominant. 129. Style in business letters. In the body of a busmess LETTER-WRITING 177 letter all the principles of exposition apply: unity, in that the paragraphing should show at a glance the several subjects or parts of a subject of which the letter treats; coherence, in that the order of words and phrases within the sentence, and of sen- tences within the paragraph, should be logical and clear; em- phasis, in that the most important points should be dealt with in the emphatic positions, the beginning and the end, and with such fullness as may be necessary. In all these respects the modern practice of dictating letters to an amanuensis has caused a great deterioration in the business correspondence of all but the best firms and corporations. Dictation as a form of oral composition is the most important of all uses of English for the successful business man and for many professional men. For obvious reasons no practice in dictation can be given in col- lege classes. Inasmuch as most college men have to write their own business letters for some years before they are able to employ a secretary, the best way to learn to dictate well is to write well. 130. Good arrangement of material. The secret of securing unity and coherence in a long business letter is to have clearly in mind the several points to be discussed, and to arrange them in a natural order. Whether one is answering a letter contain- ing inquiries or writing without such a basis, this mental analy- sis of the material is indispensable. Suppose, for example, that a college man is writing a long letter to a publisher who has undertaken to print a college annual. Various inquiries have been made on both sides, and further questions have arisen among the college men in charge of the enterprise. The wrong and the right way of arranging such a letter may be illustrated in the following examples. The first version also illustrates various errors of abbreviation, and contains in the first and last sentences hackneyed phrases which should be carefully avoided. 178 FRESHMAN RHETORIC A Poorly Written Business Letter Provincetown, N. H. Nov. 17, 1922. Commonwealth Pub. Co, Dear Sirs: Yours of the 14th at hand and in reply would say contents of same were brought before the class at its meeting yesterday. The men voted to go ahead with the book on the figures you name. Would like to know how Ion? it will take you after you get the copy and photos to get the book out. It ought to be ready by Apr. i, if possible, or surely before the end of April. Our advertising is coming along nicely. As to the paper, we want the heaviest of the three samples, provided our alumni subscriptions wanant the extra cost; othenvise the No. 2 will do. We don't know yet about the half tones, whether to use the 150 or the 200 line screens, as you call them. I am sending you by express about eighteen faculty photos. These will be ovals two inches wide. The body type ought to be 10 point for the stories and write-ups and 8 point for the grinds, which are run in among the ads. We expect to have a lot of quarter- pages that must be run next to reading matter. I doubt if we can let you have any copy before tlie holidays, but will try to get some of the fraternity stuff as soon as possible. About the red borders for the middle form, you ask what that will contain and when you can get the copy for it. Probably it will be all dra- matic and musical club stuff that will not be ready before February. Is there any reason why we should not have a gilt side stamp on the cover instead of yellow? Would it cost more? The end papers ought to be colored as you say. Your extra charge for minor alterations in proof seems rather high. Couldn't you shade it a little? You ask us to guarantee 500 copies at $2.75 each, and yet you say extra copies will cost us just as much. Oughtn't there to be some saving on extra copies if you make your price on a guarantee? Surely the composition and the half tones wouldn't cost you anything extra for another hundred, and the presswork and paper and binding can't cost as much as $2.75. The view of the library I inclose with the faculty portraits is to be a full page. By the way, does your figure include the freight on the books, and if not, about what would it be? The class wants to boat the record, so I hope you will do your prettiest for us. Thanking \-ou in advance for your reply, Very truly yours, James Spencer, LETTER- WRITING 179 After a little study of this bewildering collection of details, we discover that the letter really treats of the following topics: I. Acceptance of the bid. II. Extra charges discussed as follows: A. Charges for (i) extra form and (2) heavier paper accepted. B. Charges for (i) extra copies and (2) alterations protested. . C. Charges for (i) freight and (2) gilt stamp queried. III. Date of pubHcation, dependent on date of furnishing copy. IV. Size of type. V. Half Tones. A. Medium or fine screen? B. Photographs sent by express. In the letter these five subjects are so mixed up that the chances are that half of the inquiries would go unanswered, and that some of the information slipped in out of place would go unnoticed. The terms of the bid itself are not repeated as they should be for record. By a mere sorting into appropriate paragraphs, the many points of detail can be brought within the easy and rapid comprehension of a busy manager. After correction of the crudities of expression, the revised version of the letter appears as follows : A Business Letter Logically Arranged Provincetown, New Hampshire, November 17, 1922 The Commonwealth Publishing Company, Cleveland, Ohio Gentlemen: Your letter of November 14, with estimates for printing our college annual, was brought before the class yesterday. We voted to accept your bid for 500 copies at $2.75; the book to have 128 pages, including about twenty full-page cuts; the paper to be your medium weight; the binding to be dark blue cloth with side stamp title and college seal; colored end papers to match the cover. There are several items for wtiich you name extra charges. Among these i8o FRESHMAN RHETORIC we accept your rate of $90 for an extra eight-page form, in case we find it necessary to run it. We also agree to make the price of the book S2.95 in case we decide to use the extra hea\y paper of your third sample. That will depend on our income from alumni subscriptions. On the other hand, wc cannot see the reason for charging us full price for copies above 500 since you base your price on the guarantee. Is it not reasonable for you to allow us something for your saving in composition and half tones on an extra hundred? Surely your presswork, paper, and binding would cost you just the same for the additional copies as for the first 500, and the saving on other items ought to show in the figure. Again, we notice that you expect to charge us at the rate of $1.75 an hour for all time spent in making corrections except actual variations fiom our copy. Is not the rate excessive? We should like to have you define precisely what is meant by alterations from copy. There are two items in regard to cost that are not clear from your letter, (i) Does your estimate include the delivery of the books? If not, can you give us an idea what the freight charges would amount to? (2) Would it cost more to ha\-e the cover stamped in gilt mstead of in yellow? If so, how much more? We note your inquiries in regard to the date of publication, and the earliest date at which we can begin sending copy and photographs. The book should be ready, if possible, by April i; in any case before May i. There will not be much copy before the hoUdays, if any. We will try to have some of the fraternity articles ready before that if possible. As to the copy for the middle form pages with the red borders, you can hardl}' expect that before February. It will consist chiefly of dramatic and musical stuff. About how long will it take after the last copy is in before you can get the book printed and bound? As to tjpe, the body of the book is to be set in 10 point. The "grinds," which will be run in among the advertising pages, are to be in 8 point. In regard to the half tones, we understand that the screen depends on the grade of paper used. If you can get satisfactory results with the finest screen on the medium weight paper, then you can go ahead with the cuts; otherwise you will have to wait until we know whetlier we can aff'ord the extra heavy grade. I am sending you by express eighteen faculty portraits and a photograph of the library. The faculty cuts are to be ovals two inches wide; the library is to be a full page. We shall expect good work from your company, and do not doubt that you will help us to get out a book that will break the college record. Very truly yours, James Spencer. LETTER-WRITING i8i The revised letter is longer than the other because of the in- clusion of the terms of the bid and other necessary specifica- tions, and yet, by reason of its logical arrangement and para- graphing it will require a shorter time to read and to answer. It is to be noted that paragraphs in business letters tend to be shorter than in other exposition. Most of them require no development. Each distinct topic demands a paragraph, and there may be four or five on a typewritten page. Material deaUng with so many distinct topics as this is often divided between two letters. The paragraphs dealing with the price are intended for the estimator or the cost department; those bearing on the date of publication, type, and illustrations will go to other employees of the printing house. While it is common enough in any business establishment to receive letters of this sort, which have to be passed round from one desk to another, a more convenient practice is to confine each letter to a single branch of the subject. 131. Avoidance of stereotyped phrases. So far as possible the first and last sentences of a business letter should be free from set forms of expression. The first sentence must indicate the subject of the letter, and, if it is a letter of reply, must acknowledge receipt of the correspondent's inquiry. Yet busi- ness houses now carefully avoid such phrases as "Your esteemed favor of the loth is at hand and in reply would say." The principle underlying this change in business correspondence is that variety in expression suggests a personal touch rather than a mechanical routine. This principle also tends to lessen the frequency of what may be called the participial close in the last sentence of a letter, before the complimentary close. The participial close, such as "Thanking you in advance for . . . "or "Hoping to receive your valued order ..." or "Assuring you of our interest," is undesirable because it has been overdone. When, for special reasons, it seems to be the best ending, the participial phrase i82 FRESHMAN RHETORIC should always be followed by "I am," or "we are," on the line preceding "Very truly yours," in order that the sentence may be grammatically complete. But it is usually preferable to close a letter with a complete sentence ending with a period. Not only at the beginning and at the end, but also throughout the letter, hackneyed phrases should be avoided. Such expres- sions, for example, as "the same" or "same" instead of "it" or "them"; "as per" instead of "according to"; "along this line" instead of "on this subject" — these and many others dear to the heart of the commercial letter-writer of the past are now going out of use. Better English in business is demanded by the improved standards of education. Not merely freedom from errors and a degree of force are now requisite for success in this field, but also flexibility of style and studied courtesy of expres- sion. 132. Exercise in business letter writing. Write a business letter on one of the following subjects, using unruled letter or commercial size paper. Suitable margins should be left at top, bottom, and both sides of each page. Neatness of form should be combined with clearness and courtesy in expression. In any case which seems to call for division of the material two shorter letters mav be written instead of one long one. ^b Data for Business Letters 1. An expensive camera has proved disappointing in that its lens and shutter have not developed the guaranteed speed, and that the lens has not a wide enough angle for city views. The writer addresses a letter to the camera company complaining of defects, making specific comments upon inclosed prints showing some of his failures, and inquiring as to terms of an exchange for a better camera. 2. An athletic manager (track) is arranging the terms of a joint meet in another city. Questions of date, place, expenses, and eligibihty are under discussion. One man on his team has been protested on the ground that he has received money as playground director, another on the ground that he has already been four years in college athletics. The manager answers questions, meets objections, and makes further inquiries. LETTER-WRITING 183 3. A student has been offered the agency for his city of a portable aluminum typewriter selling at $50. He desires to know specifically how it compares with other machines with which he would have to compete; how far he would be permitted to make allowances for old machines taken in exchange; how the commissions are reckoned on installment pajonents; etc. He writes to the manufacturers commenting on their offer and making inquiries. 4. A student who has been considering social or philanthropic work as a vocation has read an account of a training school for social workers which offers free scholarships on certain terms. He writes explaining why he desires to enter such work, and what his college plans are; inquirmg about the terms of the scholarship, the expenses of living in the city where the school is located, and the desirability of specializing in college as a preparation for such a profession. 5. A student is arranging by letter for a banquet of seventy-five covers to be served by a city caterer. Matters of price, details of menu, service, decorations, guarantee, terms of payment, are considered. 6. A chairman of an entertainment committee of a club or other social organization corresponds with an agency regarding various lectures, concerts, and other attractions for a season. Prices, dates, character of audiences, subjects, guarantees, hotel accommodations, lighting of auditorium and stage, and methods of advertising, are among the points considered. 7. A student who has lost several weeks' time on account of illness writes to the dean or to an instructor regarding various changes in his sched- ule for subsequent terms that will be made necessary. The consequences of these are discussed in some detail. 8. A student with some knowledge of chemistry has been asked by a friend who is teaching chemistry in a small country high school to get from supply houses in the city estimates for the complete equipment of a labor- atory for elementary instruction. He writes to a wholesale house a full description of the furniture, apparatus, glassware, and supplies needed, inquiring as to qualities, prices, discounts, shipment, etc. (Lists of material under each head should be in neat tabular form.) 9. A letter similar to the preceding regarding the equipment of a manual training shop for wood and iron working. 10. A letter to an electrical contracting firm asking for prices on a com- plete electric lighting installation for a large country residence: dynamo operated by a gasoline engine, storage batteries, wiring according to the most approved usage, fixtures of various specified patterns and grades, shades, wall switches at definite points. This letter should be accompanied by rough floor plans to show the location of the conduits and outlets. 1 84 FRESHMAN RHETORIC 11. A member of the house committee of a club or fraternity writes to a building contractor for an estimate on specified repairs and alterations, such as a new roof, gutters and conductors, new porch, moving a partition, cutting a new door, laying and finishing hardwood flooring. Floor plans and dimensions must be given. 12. The organizer of a four weeks' camping party of eight persons in a mountain forest four miles from a railroad asks an estimate on a complete equipment from an outfitter. Inquiries are made concerning the merits of different grades of tents, camp furniture, cooking utensils, canned goods, fishing tackle. 13. A resident in a certain city or town answers at length an inquiry from a correspondent in another state concerning the advantages of the place for establishing a canning factory (or a cement block factory, a book- store, a printing establishment, a new daily paper, a moving picture theater, etc.). The size and character of the population, transportation facilities, water and electric power, price of coal, proximity to raw materials, existing supply and demand, labor conditions, are some of the factors entering into the problem, 14. The representative of a fraternity, society, church, or other organ- ization writes an invitation to a state or national body for the holding of an annual convention. Railroad and hotel facilities and prices, public interest in the cause, special reasons for the choice of this particular place, will be explained. 15. A letter replying to a friend who has requested a complete plan for advertising and selling a certain manufactured article in a given territory. It is assumed that a given capital of $5000 or $10,000 is to be spent within the district for putting the aiticle on the market. Magazine, newspaper, and billboard advertising, plan for employing and routing salesmen, manage- ment of mail order business, cost- accounting system, are some of the topics that may be treated. Let the article be an electric vacuum cleaner at a low price, or an adjustable school chair, or a household convenience of some sort. 16. A citizen writes to a newspaper for publication a letter criticis- ing the methods of street-paving in vogue, opposing the laying of a certain kind of pavement on a certain street, and explaining the better methods used in some other city with which he is familiar. 17. The purchaser of a motor car or a motor boat writes to the manu- facturers inquiring as to certain defects of operation, expressing his approval * of some features, inquiring as to the expediency and cost of certain alterations in equipment. LETTER-WRITING 185 18. The owner of a house which is for sale writes in reply to an advertise- ment a description of the house, names his price and terms, and compares the property with other similar houses on the market. 19. One writes to a lawyer inquiring if any legal cause of action can be based upon an act of trespass, violation of contract, personal injury, or other claim, which is explained in detail. 20. Obtaining by permission a number of real business letters from the files of a business concern, the student chooses a suitable one, and writes a reply based on his knowledge of the business. This is the best assignment in the list for those who can get good letters and have the information neces- sary to answer them. 133. Formal social notes. The commonest occasions on which students have to write social notes in connection with their college life are enumerated in the following list: (i) A note requesting a lady to act as patroness for a college dance, play, or concert. (2) A note inviting a member of the faculty, or the wife of a member of the faculty, to attend a dinner as a guest of a class, fraternity, or other college organization. (3) A note accepting or declining a formal (third person) in- vitation to any social afifair. (4) A note accepting or declining an informal (second person) invitation. (5) A note addressed to an older person with whom one is not well acquainted, expressing gratitude for some service re- ceived or hospitality enjoyed; as, for example, a note to the mother of a friend at whose house the writer has been a week- end guest. With reference to the first two of these types, the following suggestions may not be out of place. An invitation coming from a fraternity, sorority, or class may properly be written in the second person, beginning "My dear Mrs. ..." and signed by the president or secretary of the organization, or a member of the committee, even though no personal acquaintance exists. The post-office address of the writer should always be given in i86 FRESHMAN RHETORIC order that the addressee may know how to address the envelope containing the reply. Even if the invitation is written in the third person, as it may equally well be, the letter or card should always include, in the lower left-hand corner, the name of the person to whom the reply is to be directed, with his address: "Please reply to Mr. . . . Street." The reason is, of course, the awkwardness of having no suitable outside address for the envelope. It is very thoughtless to put a person from whom one asks a favor in the position of addressing an envelope to "Pi Eta Fraternity, Jones College," or "Junior Class, Brooks University." Such an address may reach the proper persons in time, but no business-like man or woman cares to send out mail with so crude a designation. In replying to letters of invitation, it must be remembered that a written invitation in the third person should be answered in the third person; one in the second person should be answered in the second. There must be no mixing of the two in the same letter. But a printed or engraved third-person invitation which contains the name and address of the person in charge may sometimes be best answered in a second-person note addressed to him. Such would be the case if it seemed necessar\- to explain in some detail the reason for declining an invitation. In general, third person replies are likely to seem more formal and stiff than the occasion demands; and for that reason third-person invita- tions should be confined to formal occasions. Letters of thanks addressed to persons with whom one is but slightly acquainted are not on that account to be stiff or stilted in phraseology. They are formal, in the sense that they arc dictated by an obligatory social form, but will fail entirely of their purpose unless they seem sincere. Gratitude and appre- ciation for the courtesies received or the hospitality enjoyed should be expressed simply and heartily. The proper salutation for such letters is "Dear Mrs. ..." or "Dear Mr. . . .," and the conventional formal close is "Sincerely yours." LETTER- WRITING 187 Abbreviations, such as Prof., and Feb., and N. J ., objec- tionable in a business letter, are intolerable in a formal social note. Even here, however, house numbers are always expressed in figures; and the day of the month may be so expressed if preferred. In written invitations or replies there is no oc- casion to mention the year. In engraved invitations the year and the day are spelled out. 134. Friendly letters. Rhetorical instruction has little to do with informal friendly letters, save that the rules regarding the heading and the salutation apply here as elsewhere, and that grammatical errors are just as bad in a letter as in conversation. The salutation Dear Friend is in bad foim. The several greet- ings for friendly letters, in order of increasing intimacy, are: My dear Mr. Williams: My dear Miss Atkins: Dear Mr. Williams, Dear Miss Atkins, My dear Williams, Dear Alice. Dear Jack, Friendly letters of the less intimate sort usually close with such phrases as "Cordially yours" or "Most cordially yours." Letters written to intimate friends may end in any way that preference or caprice suggests. Friendly letters are ordinarily narrative and descriptive. They owe any charm they may possess, aside from the personal message which they convey, to those qualities of style which create interest in narration and description. A study of speci- mens of the best friendly letters, such as those collected in The Gentlest Art byE. V.Lucas, will show how charming an art it is. Without any ambition to imitate, or to write like a book, the college student may well try to put vividness and grace into his personal letters. A refreshing absence of the monotonous "I," the colorless slang, and the bareness of un- pictorial narrative, may soon be the outcome of such study. Friendly letters of the best sort give an opportunity to join i88 FRESHMAN RHETORIC the larger vocabulary of writing with the larger idiomatic freedom of conversation in a manner unparalleled in any other species of composition. They should show the best there is in a man. Humor too quiet to make an impression in con- versation; pithy sayings too homely for formal writing; whim- sicalities too personal for public speech, and deliberate drolleries of syntax not to be tolerated in other writing: all these are among the unique privileges of the letter writer. Good letters are good talk, minus the interruptions, the incomplete sentences, the ill-chosen adjectives, and the slang. While letters have possibilities that conversation lacks, it is ordinarily a safe rule to write as one would talk if one could, if the right words would come at the right time. Suggested Assignments Assignment 35. Study sections 127-132. Write a business letter oc one of the subjects suggested in section 132. Assignment 36. Study sections 133 and 134. CHAPTER X COLLOQUIAL ENGLISH 135. Contractions in colloquial English. It is hardly an exaggeration to say that there are two EngUsh languages. They have much in common, and under some circumstances tend to run together. Their differences, however, are more extensive than is generally admitted by grammarians and lexicographers. These two languages are the colloquial and the literary. Literary English in its written and spoken forms is the principal subject of this book, as it is of all textbooks of rhetoric. It is the only English proper for writing of any sort except friendly letters, and for speech of any sort addressed to large groups of persons. Colloquial English, on the other hand, is the language used by educated speakers in conversation and in informal public address to small groups. Textbook writers tacitly assume that good colloquial English comes naturally to those who study the principles of good literary English. They content themselves by mentioning a fev*^ of the contracted verb-forms tolerated in conversation. The fact is that the differences between the two kinds of language are so considerable that a single chapter is inadequate to catalogue them. The inflection of nouns and pronouns in colloquial English is identical with that in literary English. The verb, on the other hand, shows many differences. Among these the contractions of the pronouns and of the adverb not with the auxiliaries are familiar to all: I'm, you're, he's, she's, we're, they're, I've, you've, 189 iQo FRESHMAN RHETORIC we've, they've, I'll,^ you'll, he'll, she'll, we'll,^ they'll, I'd^ you'd, he'd, we'd,^ they'd, aren't,' isn't, wasn't, weren't, don't, doesn't, didn't, sha'n't, shouldn't, won't, wouldn't, can't, couldn't, mayn't, mightn't, haven't, hasn't, hadn't, oughtn't. Less obvious and more interesting are some of the liberties which colloquial English takes with the tenses and moods of formal grammar. Among these the future tense is the most conspicuous. 136. Shall and will, should and would. The following state- ment covers the cases in which errors are most likely to occur: (i) In the first person singular and plural of the future tense the correct auxiliary is shall, except in making a definite promise or consenting to a request. "I shall be home about six." "WlU you bring home an evening paper?" "Yes, I will if I can remember it." "We shall be glad to see you." As between shall a.nd, will in the first person, a simple rule to remember is: when in doubt, use shall. (2) For questions in the future tense the correct form is shall you, except when a promise is requested. "Shall you be away all summer?" "Yes, I shall unless I have to come back on business." "Will you write to me often?" "I certainly will." (3) As between should and would, in both the first and second person, and in both declarative and interrogative sen- tences, the correct auxiliary is generally should. Wotdd is to be used only when willingness is to be expressed by the auxil- 1 These forms are contractions with wi7/ and u-ould, and may not be used where usage rcciuires shall or should. ^ In Great Britain the colloiiuial interrogative form arin'l 1 appears to be in more or less reputable use. It is pronounced in the Enghsh fashion without any r sound, and is probably to be regarded as a misspelled contraction of am not I (ii'n't I), rather than of are not I. This curious colloquialism is not heard in the United States. Since aj;e, given; drive, drivt-n). Prove is from the French, — the only non-Teutonic verb to which any attempt is ever made to add -en. ARGUMENTATION 223 tation all teachers must acknowledge their indebtedness. The seven steps are as follows: 1. Stating the question. 2. Defining the terms. 3. Writing out all the possible contentions held, or likely to be held, by the two sides. 4. Excluding irrelevant points. 5. Enumerating points of agreement. 6. Stating points waived. 7. Reducing the remaining contentions to a small number of main issues, logically arranged. Of these steps the second, fourth, and sixth may sometimes be unnecessary; the other four are indispensable. The analysis rests not upon guess-work but upon careful examination of the printed material, in the case of library subjects, or upon a con- sideration of current discussions, in the case of subjects chosen from experience. This process should be applied by the class to a second question, framed on the basis of one of the following topics : I. The relation of college debating to intellectual honesty. 2o The expediency of applying the "freshman rule" to all intercollegiate sports in this college. 3. The desirabihty of deferring fraternity "rushing" until after the Christmas recess. 4. Rights of non-fraternity men in college politics. 5. Ethics of indirect inducements to athletes. 6. Summer baseball and perjury. 7. Municipal dance halls. 8. Playing cards for small stakes. 9. Use of translations in language courses. 10. College credit for members of musical clubs, 11. Union churches in small villages. 12. Equal pay for equal work in public school teaching. 13. Requirement of physical exercise throughout college course. 14. Co-education. 15. Evangehcal test for active membership in Y. M. C. A. 16. Three-year course for pre-medical students. 224 FRESHMAN RHETORIC 1 7. Best methods of street lighting. 18. Mail-order houses and the country storekeeper. 19. A five-year college course for women. 20. The medical profession as a career for women. 21. Municipal control of milk supply. 22. Licensing of cats for protection of birds. 23. Bible reading in public schools. 24. School credit for week-day religious education controlled by churches. 25. Hospital charges for patients above the pauper and below the well- to-do class. A complete analysis, with an elaborate list of contentions, on any one of these questions should cost the student several hours of hard thinking, with pencil in hand. Superficiality and haste defeat the whole purpose of the assignment, which is to pro- mote clear, consecutive, independent thinking. It is needless to say that there should be no collusion or cooperation among students in this kind of work, so far as the formulation of the results is concerned. Informal discussion before beginning to write may be helpful, if the student has enough independence to go off by himself and work out the thing in his own way and his own words afterwards. The safer plan is to do the whole work alone from beginning to end; and in any case the stating of the question, definition of terms, selection of points to be eliminated, and statement of the issues must be independent. Only in collecting a comprehensive list of contentions can use of borrowed material be legitimate, and not then unless each contributes as much as he receives. Nowhere is one more likely to lean on the suggestions of a quicker mind than in analyzing a (juestion; and nowhere is the intellectual vice so acquired more apparently trilling and more permanently disastrous. College men who cannot think for themselves will never be leaders. 160. Proof. The word />rof?/ as used in argumentation does not mean demonstration; it does not mean establishing a point beyond a reasonable doubt. If it did, there would be an evi- ARGUMENTATION 225 dent absurdity in any debate, the affirmative and the negative undertaking to "prove" opposite conclusions. Proof in this connection is a name for facts or reasoning offered in support of the side which the speaker defends; material which tends to produce conviction. Inasmuch as sensible people never argue absolutely one-sided questions, there is always some proof, in this sense, to be offered on both sides. Thus a lawyer who un- dertakes to defend a man accused of murder or burglary must, if he be an honest lawyer, have some evidence tending to prove an alibi, or a want of motive, or a case of mistaken identity; or he may be obliged to admit the act charged and still offer proof of possible insanity; or he may rely on some technical flaw in the indictment, A careful writer or speaker, however, though he uses the noun proof in this meaning of material offered in support of one side, does not lightly claim to have proved things which he has merely asserted. He prefers to avoid that audacious verb; to say that he has offered evidence or given reasons which' tend to prove, or go to show, that his side is right. Really to prove anything, in the sense of legal or scientific demonstration, is almost impossible for young writers and speakers. They -'have neither the learning nor the resources in the way of getting testimony which lawyers and scientists can command. There is something absurd in the flippant way in which young men un- dertake to "prove," in ten minutes between two bells, proposi- tions over which experts have labored for years. In fact, the very notion of students settling questions about which their teachers are in doubt has an element of farce. All this absurdity disappears if we regard the student's task as merely saying what he can in support of the side to which he inchnes after an honest though superficial inquiry. 161. The burden of proof. In most arguments one side has at the outset a heavier responsibility than the other; more to prove, because there is a certain presumption in favor of the 226 FRESHMAN RHETORIC other side. This excess of responsibiUty is called the burden of proof. It rests more often on the affirmative than on the negative; always when the question is so stated that the affirm- ative must maintain a view different from general opinion or prevailing usage. For example, any one who attempts to ad- vocate a new law must carry the burden of proof; for the pre- sumption is that we have laws enough already. The majority of the American people have held that the declaration of war against Germany was justified; the burden of proof rests upon him who denies it. There is astrong popular opposition to high school fraternities, which puts the burden of proof on a defender of them; but no such feeling exists against college fraternities, and one who attacks them must assume a burden of proof. Law and justice presume that a man is innocent until he is proved guilty; and any attack upon the honesty or sincerity of individ- uals of good reputation carries with it a burden of proof. The practical importance of the burden of proof in ordinary argumentative writing and speaking is not so great as debaters sometimes suppose. The main thing to remember is that neither side has a right to take matters for granted except the points specifically admitted at the outset; that every matter in con- troversy must be supported, not merely asserted. The negative side in a debate has the privilege of confining its proof to meet- ing the case presented by the affirmative; but it is unsafe to rely upon this privilege to the extent of being unprovided with material to meet a sudden change of front. Unexpected devel- opments may shift the burden of proof from one side to the other during the argument. This occurs whenever, by reason of new evidence, an impartial listener would transfer his sym- pathy from one side to the other. When a man is on trial for a crime, the burden of proof rests on the state, until it is estab- lished that the man has assumed a disguise, or changed his name, or destroyed clothing or papers, immediately after the time of the act with which he is charged. It then rests on him ARGUMENTATION 227 to remove, if he can, the bad effect caused by these suspicious circumstances. Inan argument about spelb'ng reform there is at the start, as usual, a burden of proof on the affirmative; but it may soon be lightened by showing that English spelling has never been regarded as permanent, and that innumerable changes have been made in every generation. The student is always to re- member that he cannot long rely on any presumption in his favor; that every step must be prepared, and every position defended. 162. Evidence and reasoning. In order to establish a fact we use evidence; in order to interpret a fact in support of an opinion we use reasoning. Thus in arguing for the adoption of a certain policy in our college or city or state, we may use evidence to show that the policy has worked well in other places. When we assume that therefore it would work well here, we are reasoning; perhaps reasoning unsoundly, for the conditions may be altogether different. In a great congested city, let us say, philanthropists have found that public dance halls under proper supervision lessen the evils that threaten the young people of the slums. It does not therefore follow that every small city and town needs municipal encouragement of dancing. The argument depends for its weight on the resem- blance in kind and in magnitude of the social conditions in the two places. An opponent might meet it either by questioning the evidence or by denying the validity of the reasoning. He might say, "You have not really proved that these municipal dance halls have drawn many young people away from the bad places run by lawless persons; you have merely shown that they are well attended." Or he might deny that conditions in New York throw any light on what should be done in Albany or Syracuse. In other words, he might ask, "Is it really a fact?" or "Does the fact show what you think it shows?" All argu- ment is made up of these two kinds of proof — evidence to prove facts, and reasoning to relate them to the issues. Law- 228 FRESHMAN RHETORIC yers have written many volumes to expound the proper hmita- tions and rules of evidence. Philosophers have built up elabo- rate systems of logic to show the nature of what we call reason- ing, and to expose the many deceptions, or fallacies, to which it is liable. In this chapter a few hints only can be given, of a most elementary nature, yet indispensable for any argumen- tation worthy of the name. 163. Evidence of persons and evidence of things. When a student summoned before an honor committee reluctantly testi- fies that he saw two of his classmates comparing notes and ex- changing papers during an examination, that is personal or testimonial evidence. When the committee compares the two papers and finds them, in some portions, precisely alike, and both wrong, that is circumstantial evidence, or evidence of things. Circumstantial evidence plays a very large part in criminal law and in the ordinary affairs of life, but not in col- lege argumentation and debating. We are all the time inferring one thing from another without hearing anybody's testimony about it. A crowd on the street corner means an accident, or a delayed street car, or a baseball score. These are rela- tions of cause and effect. A flag at half-mast has no such relation to the death of a public man; it is a sign, like the railway signals, or the red hght on the port side of a steamer. Correct interpretation of circumstantial evidence is important in a hundred practical ways, but its place in our present in- vestigation is small. By far the larger part of the evidence used to prove facts in questions argued by students is personal evidence, testimony. 164. Tests of evidence. There is a real difference, not merely a formal one, between oral and written (or printed) testimony. The difference is that the witness who is actually present to tell his story can be questioned by one side in such a way as to bring out the specific points to be established and can also be questioned, or cross-examined, by the other side with ARGUMENTATION 229 intent to lessen or destroy the force of his testimony. The evidence of written letters or depositions, on the other hand, or of printed books, magazines, and newspapers, is subject to no such prompt and easy scrutiny. On this account it is all the more important that printed evidence should be carefully weighed, both by the side which offers it and by the side which desires, if possible, to neutralize its effect. The value of testi- mony depends on three factors: (i) the general honesty and intelligence of the witness; (2) his special knowledge of the subject on which he testifies; (3) the presence or absence of any motive which might bias the testimony of an honest man. Student debaters have a way of using material taken from books and magazines without the slightest inquiry on these three points; and their opponents are often blind or foolish enough to let them do it. We may indeed presume, in many discus- sions, that the very appearance of the passage in question in a reputable magazine, or a well-known book of reference, guaran- tees the honesty and intelligence of its author, thus passing over the first test of evidence above named. The other two, however, should never be neglected. They amount to these two questions: Has the writer first-hand, thorough knowledge of the subject? Has he any special motive which may influ- ence his view? Frequently the writer best acquainted with the facts is also the most partisan ; and not seldom one who appears at first charmingly impartial is found to be writing about things of which he has no direct knowledge. Ideal witnesses cannot always be had. We must take evidence as we find it, discounting it, or insisting on its unusual weight, according to circumstances. Thus, in undertaking to prove that high school fraternities tolerate idleness and gambling, parents would be poor witnesses; for there is no class of citi- zens in the community who know so little about what their chil- dren are doing as the parents of these youths who have given high school fraternities a bad name. Any teacher in the school, 23© FRESHMAN RHETORIC any minister in the town, any policeman on the beat, would be a more credible witness. The parents of non-fraternity students might know much more about the delinquencies of their neigh- bors' children, but their testimony would be discounted — rightly or not — on the ground of jealousy. The janitor of the fraternity's rooms would be biased by favors received; a discharged janitor by his grudge; and so on. To take another example, suppose in a discussion of some municipal question the testimony of persons in various other cities is sought as to the success of similar experiments elsewhere. Political preju- dice and local pride will make many city officials and business men poor witnesses in such a case. The good witness will be the man who points out both merits and defects, and accords to the undertaking a qualified approval or a reluctant disap- proval. We say that such a man is disinterested — a very different thing from saying that he is uninterested. He is a good witness because he can detach his personal preferences from the subject and state facts as they are. 165. Opinions are not proof . This virtue of detachment as a mark of a good witness is worth insisting on. A common fault in student argumentation is to select the most extreme partisan utterances to offer as proof. The trouble is that such debaters fail to see what they are trying to prove. They are ignoring the issues of fact and emphasizing the issues of opinion. When- ever the mere opinions of a writer as to a certain policy are offered as evidence, it is always the right of the opponent to reply that the question cannot be argued by weighing other people's opinions; it must be answered by weighing their testi- mony as to the facts, and working out our own opinion from them. There is a strange misapprehension of the meaning of proof at this point. Why does it matter what X and Y and Z think about the desirability of the proposed policy? The argument is not about what they think, but about what they know. If the question happens to be about the use of school ARGUMENTATION 231 buildings as social centers, We do not care whether the mayor of one town and the school superintendent of another like that policy or not; we do not care much for their opinion on the question whether it has been a success. What we wish from them, as reputable citizens who know the facts, is to tell us whether the social centers have been well attended, what class of people has patronized them, what the per capita cost has been, what results have been observed, and so on. If we can find out what has really taken place in that town, we can form our own opinion. The opinions of others may be interesting as showing the trend of public sentiment, but they add nothing to proof. There is one kind of argument that forms an exception to this rule, — the so-called argument from authority. It has very small place in ordinary discussions. The argument from au- thority is the use of testimony from a witness of such eminence and unquestioned impartiality that his word carries conviction to all. There are few questions commonly argued in which this kind of evidence as to matters of opinion could be needed in the proof; for the point sought to be so established would usually be a point admitted in advance, and not among the issues at all. Expert testimony of the ordinary sort offered in the courts is very far from being entitled to claim such author- ity. For every expert witness on one side another expert can usually be found on the opposite side; and this is true not only of lawsuits and criminal trials, but also of any ordinary ques- tion involving technical matters. Expert witnesses are good wit- nesses so long as they confine themselves to facts — provided they can be shown to be reasonably impartial; but when they begin to state their opinions, such testimony proves nothing more than that the people who know most about the subject disagree — which fact we knew already. Little attention need be given in most arguments to testimony as to opinions without the facts on which the opinions are based. The sort of cases in which such 232 FRESHMAN RHETORIC evidence is valid is, for example, the opinion of a college president as to themeaningof a college rule; the appeal to the scriptures for principles of right and wrong (but not for specific applications of such principles to modern conditions); the constitutional deci- sions of Chief Justice Marshall. These are not the kind of ques- tions that are likely to be at issue in ordinary discussion. With this one exception, all evidence must be directed to the establish- ment of facts, not to the question of opinions. For the support of our opinions, we use the facts proved by evidence as inter- preted by what is called reasoning. I660 Reasoning is defending one proposition by another. The little word for is the sign of reasoning. Just what we mean by it only the philosophers can tell us; yet every ma- ture person uses it constantly without being at all troubled by its mystery. Immature persons do not use it; they conceal their reasoning under other labels. Such words as for, since, inasmuch as, employed as the links of thought, show that the speaker has deliberately compared two propositions, and be- lieves the second to be a good reason for the first. "Entrance examinations should be required of all applicants for admission to this college, for admission of some by certificate and others by examination leads to injustice." Here are two opinions linked together by the conjunction /or. This little word seems to mean merely, "if you accept the second clause, you must also accept the first." It really means more than that; it stands for two other opinions not expressed at all: (i) that anything which leads to injustice should be changed — a proposition which sounds harmless enough, and which if suitably guarded would probably be admitted by the negative; and (2) that entrance examinations required of all candidates would remove the alleged injustice of the present system — an opinion which would certainly not be shared by the enemies of entrance examinations. The reasoning involved in the complete sentence above quoted may be formally represented thus: ARGUMENTATION 233 Aff. I . Anything which leads to injustice should be changed. Aff. 2. The certificate plan of admission to this college leads to injustice. Aff. 3. Therefore the certificate plan should be changed. Aff. 4. Any change from the certificate plan should be such as to remove the alleged injustice. Aff. 5. Entrance examinations required of all applicants in aU the sub- jects presented for admission would remove the injustice. Aff. 6. Therefore entrance examinations should be required of all apphcants in all subjects presented for admission. Of these six propositions the second is the premise and the sixth the conclusion of the sentence first quoted; the first is a general statement which would be accepted by the negative, with the important addition of the words "if practicable." But the fourth is a general statement, self-evident when put into words, which the affirmative would not be likely to bring into the discussion at all except when pressed by the negative, for the reason that the afi&rmative desires to have the following (the fifth) proposition accepted without proof. The afiirmative would like to proceed upon the assumption that his only task is to show injustice in the certificate plan, supposing that the only alternative is the system of entrance examinations for all. This course the negative will not permit him to follow. Therefore the affirmative prepares to defend not only the second but also the fifth of the six propositions, in order to establish the sixth as his conclusion. In order to defend the second he reasons as follows: Aff. 7. Any plan of admission which admits some candidates and rejects others equally well prepared leads to injustice. Aff. 8. The certificate plan admits some candidates and rejects others equally well prepared. Aff. 2. Therefore the certificate plan leads to injustice. At this point the negative questions both the major (7) and the minor (8) premise of the syllogism.^ For the alleged fact 'A syllogism is an argument stated in the form of three propositions, of which the third is the conclusion. The first, or major premise, is a general statement, of which the second, or minor premise, is alleged to be a particular case. The major and minor 234 FRESHMAN RHETORIC that some students admitted on the certificate plan are better prepared than others (8) the negative demands evidence; not because there is any question that some candidates are better prepared than others, but because the negative desires to see what kind and amount of evidence the affirmative can produce. The negative wishes to have this evidence brought out in order that he may perhaps use some of it in a syllogism of his own, to this effect: Neg. I. Defects due to lax administration of a plan should not be charged against the plan. Neg. 2. Unequal preparation of students admitted under the certificate plan in this institution is due to lax administration. Neg. 3. Therefore unequal preparation of candidates should not be charged against the certificate plan. In meeting this attack the affirmative has a choice of two methods. He may assert (i) that the major premise of the negative syllogism is unsound without the addition of the qualifying clause "unless the plan is such that it cannot be rigidly administered." Or (2) he may attempt to disprove the minor premise by producing testimony of administrative officers tending to show that the enforcement of the plan has not been lax. Down to this point we have considered only the defence of the affirmative's second proposition (that the certificate plan leads to injustice). We have not followed it up to anything like a demonstration, but only far enough to show how one step leads to another, both in the defence and in the attack. The fifth premises have one term, called the middle term, in common. For example, in the syllogism composed of 7, 8, 2, the middle term is "a plan of admission which admits some candidates and rejects others equally well prepared." The middle term does not appear in the conclusion; and the purpose of expanding an argument into the syllogistic form is to discover and bring out the implied middle term. Ordinarily reasoning pro- ceeds on the basis of abbreviated or condensed syllogisms from which some of the premises are omitted; such abbreviated forms of argumentative sentences are called enthymemcs. The original sentence above quoted in regard to entrance examinations, which we are now analyzing, is an enthymeme. The word means "in the mind," its etymology referring to the fact that in an enthymeme something is held in mind but not put in words; implied, not expressed. ARGUMENTATION 235 proposition of the afl&rmative, however, (that entrance exam- inations for all would be an adequate remedy) also needs defence; and the defence is more difficult in that it attempts to deal with the future, to predict what would happen if the proposed change were adopted. This part of the proof might begin with some such syllogism as this: Aff. 9. Any system of admission which gives all candidates an equal chance is just. Aff. 10. Entrance examinations required of all candidates give all an equal chance. Aff. 1 1 . Therefore entrance examinations required of all would promote justice. The negative accepts the major premise and rejects the minor, arguing as follows: Neg. 4. Any system of admission that stakes everything on the can- didate's physical and nervous condition during three strenuous days in hot weather is unjust. Neg. 5. The proposed plan does this. Neg. 6. Therefore the proposed plan is unjust. Or as follows: Neg. 7. Any system of admission that takes no account of the judgment of teachers who have known the candidate four years, and stakes everything upon the judgment of young college instructors unacquainted with the candidate, is unjust. Neg. 8. The proposed plan does this. Neg. 9. Therefore the proposed plan is unjust. Or thus: Neg. 10. Any system of admission that makes it difficult or impossible for students who have been out of school a year or two to get into college is unjust. Neg. II. The examination plan does this. Neg. 12, Therefore the examination plan is unjust. Observe the method of defence and of attack by reasoning : each argument, originally stated in the abbreviated form (enthy- 236 FRESHMAN RHETORIC meme) , consisting of a compound sentence of two clauses joined by /or, is mentally expanded into the syllogistic form; then, and then only, can we clearly perceive whether it is the major or the minor premise, or both, which need defence. The affirma- tive needs to know this in order to support his case; the negative needs to know it in order to attack at the vulnerable point. Unsound reasoning is dangerous for the side which unconsciously employs it, even when no actual antagonist is waiting to take advantage of it; for to mislead oneself in a one-sided argument by underestimating the strength of the silent opposition is to acquire a most pernicious intellectual habit. 167. Two kinds of reasoning: inductive and deductive. We reason either from a number of special cases to a general prin- ciple, or from a general principle to a special case. For example, by observing a large number of fever patients we may discover the general principle that the pulse rises with the temperature; this is called inductive reasoning (leading in from many points on the circumference to the common center). On the other hand, having demonstrated this principle by our own observations or learned it from books, we may be quite sure, in any special case, that the pulse of a person with a temperature of 103° is above normal. This is deductive reasoning {leading out or away from the general principle at the center to a special case on the circumference). Science gives us by induction a large num- ber of general principles about the physical world, upon which we act in daily life. When we reason about a particular case, we deduce. All the reasoning about entrance examinations in the previous section is deductive reasoning. An example of inductive reasoning applied to that subject would be an inquiry into the grades received by college freshmen admitted on certi- ficate and by those admitted on examination, in order to dis- cover whether any general difference can be proved. Observation of human nature and society gives us many gen- eral principles of conduct, much less uniform than scientific ARGUMENTATION 237 laws, from which we are likely to reason deductively with rather too much assurance. Often, in fact, we reason deductively from assumed general principles which, when stated, are seen to be false. Thus it is a common thing to find people reasoning like this: "The hours of labor should be further decreased, for laborers need more time for self -improvement and healthful exercise." This really rests on the assumption that men in general use their leisure time for self -improvement and exercise. Much deductive argument about the elective system assumes that students with the largest liberty of choice in studies select the best subjects for their needs; a proposition which is certainly not generally admitted, and which could hardly be established inductively without very wide investigation. The two kinds of reasoning are found together in almost all arguments, but frequently the inductive reasoning is concealed, as in the preceding examples, in a mere implied assumption based on inadequate grounds. This error is, as we shall see, one of the most common fallacies. 168. Proof arises from the analysis. In seeking evidence and reasoning to support a proposition, we are guided by the statement of the issues. Those, it will be remembered, are the questions which must be answered, affirmatively or negatively, in order to establish the proposition. An issue of fact calls for evidence; an issue of opinion calls for reasoning, based either on the evidence or on generally received principles. It is usually easier to decide what kind of evidence will best support a fact than to see what sort of reasoning will best defend an opinion. This is because reasoning must be par- ticularly adapted to the audience for which the argument is intended, while good evidence is good for any audience. Let us take a set of issues arising out of a question, and see what kind of evidence and of reasoning would be appropriate for different audiences. Suppose the question to be as follows: "Are Sunday afternoon band concerts in our public parks desirable?" After examination of the history of the question 238 FRESHMAN RHETORIC we agree to define "desirable" as "promoting the physical, mental, and moral welfare of the community." Contentions for the negative perhaps contain several evidently irrelevant points, which are excluded. The negative admits that the general principle of using pubhc funds for public recreation is sound within reasonable limits; that the air of the parks is better than that of the city; that afternoon concerts need not interfere with church attendance; that it is better for young men to spend a Sunday afternoon at a park concert than loafing around pool-rooms or carousing at picnic resorts. Both sides agree to waive discussion of the strictly religious ques- tion implied in the term "Sabbath-breaking," and to confine the argument to physical, mental, and moral welfare. The issues turn out to be somewhat like these: 1. Are Sunday concerts necessary to attract the working people to the parks? 2. Are these concerts attended by any considerable number of dis- orderly persons? 3. Are the moral conditions objectionable? 4. Is the music of a sort to improve or to corrupt musical taste? 5. Are tlie concerts unduly expensive? 6. Do the concerts interfere with the rights of those who prefer a quiet Sunday? All these issues may in a way be regarded as issues of opinion ; but the first five evidently depend chiefly upon evidence and in that sense may be called issues of fact. For example, the first requires comparative figures of attendance at the parks with and without music — • not at different parks on the same day, but at the same parks in different seasons, before and after the begin- ning of the concerts. The second issue involves a matter of opinion in the words "considerable" and "disorderly," but after all it is chiefly a question for evidence. The best wit- nesses would be unprejudiced policemen, and reputable citizens who regularly attend the concerts. The third issue also calls for an opinion on the meaning of "objectionable," but it too is ARGUMENTATION 239 principally a question of fact. Policemen would not be the best witnesses here. They know well enough what "disorderly" means, but their views about other kinds of park behavior might be rather too lenient. On the issue regarding the music we should have an interesting controversy as to the matter of opinion involved; but the first and most important thing to do is to examine the concert programs for a season (including encores) and classify the numbers. What proportion of classic music, "sacred" music, patriotic airs, operatic and descriptive music, dance tunes, "ragtime"? How much of the music is above the taste of the majority, how much below it? On the issue of expense, the ''unduly" implies an opinion, but the opinion must rest on a definite statement of the total expense for a season, divided by the total estimated attendance, giving the per capita cost of Sunday concerts. The sixth issue, however, is in no sense an issue of fact. No evidence can be used to meet it. What sort of reasoning will be most effective? That will depend on the character of the audience. If the hearers are conservative church-members who never visit the parks on Sunday, the reasoning of an affirmative speaker on this sixth issue would be based on that very fact; there is no interference with the rights of these hearers, for their quiet rest-day is not interfered with. But if these hearers are parents whose children have got into the habit of going off to the parks on Sunday afternoons, the situation is different. The affirmative speaker must then try to point out that this desertion of the home by the young people is hardly to be charged to the concerts, but to a general centrifugal tendency seen all about us. He will admit that this tendency is to be regretted, and resisted by proper means, such as increasing the home attractions; but he will deny that stopping the concerts would keep the boys and girls at home. If necessary, he will support this position by reasoning based on the similar inffuence of Sunday motoring, motorcycling, 240 FRESHMAN RHETORIC tennis, golf, and other amusements with which the municipality has nothing to do. On the other hand, an affirmative speaker before an audience of working people would have very Httle difficulty in finding reasons to convince them that the concerts do not interfere with the rights of their more prosperous neighbors. He might, as a matter of form — though they probably agree with him already — offer such reasons as these: (i) In this country the majority rules. (2) The well-to-do classes have many opportunities for recreation which are not open to the working people for lack of time and money. (3) Sunday concerts are becoming common everywhere. This last reason, it will be noticed, really rests on this implied assumption: Whatever is generally accepted can- not be an interference with the rights of a majority of the com- munity. Its soundness is likely to be questioned by the negative. In general it may be said, regarding this matter of selecting a line of argument to meet an issue of opinion, that one's knowl- edge of human nature is the best guide; but that advantage should never be taken of popular prejudices or fallacies to make out a case. Such sharp practice is likely to lose the debate, and sure to corrupt the debater. The immediate aim of argumentation is to convince, but its ultimate aim is always to make reason and right prevail. 169. Direct proof and refutation. Up to this point in the discussion of proof no distinction has been made between direct proof and refutation. Direct proof is evidence or reasoning offered by one side to support its own contentions; refutation is evidence or reasoning designed to meet real or assumed attack. In a debate this distinction is a sharp one; for most of the refutation comes in the latter part of the debate, in separate speeches. Formal debating, however, is not the commonest kind of argumentation. More often, in informal discussions, the refutation of an opponent's contentions comes midway in the proof. As a rule, it is best neither to begin nor to end with ARGUMENTATION 241 rebuttal: not to begin with it, for that seems to imply that one has Uttle positive proof; not to end with it, for that leaves the last impression on the hearer's minds one of defense rather than attack. In an argument to which there is to be no real reply, the refutation must be based on what one knows to be the probable doubts or objections in the minds of the audience. Under those circumstances a speaker should beware of inventing imaginary objections or multiplying trivial difficulties merely to answer them. Refutation should be massed on a few really serious objections to his position which the speaker has met in his investigation; objections of which he has felt the force, and upon which he can concentrate his defensive argument. Scat- tering and frivolous rebuttal is the bane of college debating. The strongest argument is that which states the opposite side as candidly as possible, sometimes even with apparent sympathy, and then proceeds to show that the positive proof outweighs it. To omit refutation altogether, however, is fatal. That amounts to ignoring one or more of the issues. 170. The structure of proof. Having now considered what is meant by proof, in its two main aspects of evidence and reasoning, we proceed to inquire how the material of the proof is to be arranged. This process of arrangement may be divided into two parts: (i) the division of the proof into its principal propositions; (2) the grouping of evidence to support these principal propositions. While the selection of material for the proof depends on the analysis, as already shown, the main divi- sions of the completed proof are not always stated in the same form or arranged in the same order as the issues. In the question of modern language teaching, analyzed in sections 154-158, the three main divisions of the affirmative argument may be ar- ranged as are the issues: I. The present method of college teaching of modern languages is un- satisfactory. (Direct proof.) 242 FRESHMAN RHETORIC II. The direct method is adapted to improve these unsatisfactory conditions. (Direct proof.) III. The direct method is not impracticable in college teaching. (Refu- tation.) This arrangement, however, brings refutation at the end, which is undesirable. Since III cannot logically be placed be- fore II, we may, if we wish to avoid the disadvantage of ending with refutation, add a fourth general proposition such as this: IV. The direct method is in line with modem educational progress. A division of the affirmative proof for the Sunday concert question, on the other hand, will hardly be based on the six issues as stated. It will perhaps be looked for rather in the threefold definition of "desirable" — promoting the physical, mental, and moral welfare of the community. This, with the addition of a proposition bearing on the expense, would take form as follows : I. Sunday concerts in the parks promote the health of the wage- earning classes. II. Much of the music has an educational value. III. Such an innocent amusement protects young people against moral dangers. IV. The per capita cost is very small. A speaker for the negative on the Sunday concert question would not be hkely to divide his direct proof on this basis, chiefly because he cannot deny a certain physical benefit in anything that draws people to the parks, and therefore would not begin his attack at that point. He might adopt some such outline as this: I. Sunday recreation should be such as promotes rest and quiet and encourages family gatherings. II. Park concerts crowd the people into ore or two acres of a large area under conditions that are noisy, unrestful, and not favorable to the comfort of family groups. III. The music is usually of the sort called popular, sometimes vulgar. and rarely uphfling. ARGUMENTATION 243 IV. Moral risks are not absent, and the crowding increases these. V. The parks would be well patronized without concerts, especially if the money so saved were spent on increasing the other attractions. Of these divisions the first and second are derived from the sixth issue; the third and fourth, which are in the nature of refutation, come from the third and fourth issues; the fifth division corresponds to the first issue. In other words, the original analysis led to a statement of issues which, for pur- poses of an effective negative proof, is considerably changed in order. In beginning to brief an argument, various main divi- sions for the proof should be written down and criticised before any further development is attempted. Any overlapping or omission is more easily detected at this point than in the fully worked out brief. 171. Supporting the main propositions. Having decided upon three to five main divisions or propositions for the discussion of a question, our next task is to defend them by arranging the evidence and reasoning. This is to be done in every case by stating first the conclusion and then the evidence or reasons for it. For example, a main division of the proof in an argu- ment against free textbooks might be arranged thus: III. The free textbook system is unjust to many taxpayers, in that A. It adds unjustly to the school tax of those who have no children in school; for 1. They already pay a heavy school tax, for a. The school tax in this city for the past ten years has been as follows: (Figures should be quoted.) 2. The extra tax for free textbooks would be a. $ — per $1000 the first year. b. $ — in subsequent years. 3. The additional tax is not justified by the arguments for the general school tax, for a. The school buildings, teaching force, and other parts of the school system are for general use, while textbooks are for individual use. 244 FRESHMAN RHETORIC b. The other things paid for out of the school tax are necessary to public education, while free textbooks are not; for (i) Free textbooks are already furnished to the indigent, and (2) Others can afford to buy them. c. There is as much reason for furnishing free stationery to pupils as for providing textbooks. B. It adds unjustly to the school tax of those taxpayers who support the parochial schools and send their children to them; for 1. In their opinion the whole public school tax is unjust to them; but waiving discussion of this claim, 2. The textbook tax is unnecessary as shown in III. A. ;^. b. 3. These parents have to buy parochial school textbooks for their own children, and if taxed for free books for their neighbors' children would be paying double. The arrangement of material here illustrated is one carefully devised to display most readily the structure of proof; to show exactly what evidence or reasoning is offered in support of each proposition, and whether propositions are coordinate or subordi- nate. It is to be closely followed by the student in all argu- mentative outlines, whether complete briefs or parts of briefs. There are three rules that must be observed: 1. Complete sentences must be used throughout. 2. Main propositions only are numbered with roman numerals and written the full width of the page; propositions of the second order are lettered with capital letters and indented one inch; propositions of the third order are numbered with arable numerals and indented two inches; proposi- tions of the fourth order are lettered with small letters and indented three inches. Smaller subdivisions may be indicated by other suitable symbols, and must be still further indented. Not merely the first line of a subdivision is to be indented, but the whole of it. 3. Each subordinate proposition must stand in the relation of proof (evidence or reasoning) to the preceding proposition of the next higher order, and must be introduced by for, since, or in that, placed at the end of the preceding statement. ARGUMENTATION 245 These seem to be matters of mere form, but they are of the utmost importance in making the brief a condensed, visible record of clear and logical thought. Any departure from them is likely to mean that the writer has not really mastered his subject. The form is at once a means and a test of accurate thinking, and as such must be respected. Generations of college students have found in it a rigid but valuable discipline. 172. The complete brief. A brief consists of three parts, the introduction, the discussion or proof, and the conclusion. These three parts are not numbered; they are simply entitled Introduction; Discussion; Conclusion. In each the main divisions are separately numbered with roman numbers: I, II, III, etc., in the introduction; I, II, III in the discussion; and the same in the conclusion. The introduction is based on the preliminary process of analysis, and contains the following parts: Introduction I. Statement of the question. II. Short statement of the origin of the discussion, or of the way in which it comes to be of present interest. III. Definition of terms. IV. Contentions of the afl&rmative. V. Contentions of the negative. VI. Enumeration of {A) irrelevant points; {B) points admitted; (C) points waived. VII. Statement of the issues. The discussion, as already indicated, is made up of three to five or six main divisions of proof and refutation, each supported by subordinate propositions, arranged and numbered according to the rules. The conclusion repeats in summary the main divisions of the proof, bringing them together in order to end the brief with a unified statement of the case instead of with the detailed proof of the last division. While it seems lilce 246 FRESHMAN RHETORIC meaningless repetition, it really serves to remind both writer and reader of the structure of the case in its entirety, and is thus essential. 173. Writing the brief. After the study of analysis and of proof, the next step is to prepare a complete brief. The student has already worked out an analysis of one or two of the suggested questions. This, prefaced by a short paragraph sketching the origin or the recent history of the question, becomes the intro- duction of the brief. For the discussion, a general division of proof and refutation into three or more main propositions is adopted, according to the principles set forth on the preceding pages. The best way for the beginner to build up this outline into a good body of proof is as follows: Let the first main pro- position (I) be written at the top of a large sheet of paper, the second at the top of another sheet, and so on. Considering what is directly involved in the proof of I, whether evidence or reasoning, or both, let the writer select two or more proposi- tions which, if estabhshed, would give adequate support to I. These are lettered A, B, etc., and are written at intervals down the page, with plenty of blank space after each. Before going further one should make sure that these propositions are really all parallel — not dependent one on another; and that severally and collectively they do really support I. Then, and not until then, should the student ask himself how A is to be estab- lished; setting down as i, 2, 3 several items of evidence or of reasoning which are strictly coordinate, still leaving blank lines beneath each. Some of these will need no further support: the sentences which cite evidence, and the reasons which rest on points admitted by both sides. Others, however, must be carried one step farther, to an a, b, c. In this way the support of I is built up without the danger of the writer's becoming confused by the details. The risk in attempting to write a brief straight through is that minor points will be set down out of place, and that many debatable propositions will be left ARGUMENTATION 247 without proof. This risk will be avoided by testing each step before going on. The test is provided by the words for, since, which should always be written at the end of each proposition followed by another proposition subordinate to it. If the word seems inappropriate, something is wrong. Either the two propositions so joined are really coordinate and should be so written, or one of them is out of place. Occasionally students violate the proper order by placing the proof before the conclu- sion, joining them with therefore. This practice is to be avoided in the brief, for it is apt to lead to confusion of thought. Of course in the argumentative speech or essay for which the brief is a preparation, no such rigid order is demanded. 174. Common fallacies. An important part of practice in argumentation is to train oneself to see weak points in reason- ing. Some of the commoner fallacies likely to be encountered in ordinary arguments are mentioned in the following para- graphs. First among the errors in reasoning usually met with is generalization from insufficient data. Whenever in an argu- TOient one states or implies a general principle, not admitted in advance, it is proper to inquire whether it rests on a large number of representative cases. Limited observation in a single institu- tion may lead one to assume that students who undertake to work their way through college necessarily rank lower as a rule than students of equal ability who have no outside work. This might be true in one college for five years together, and yet the experience of another college, or another five years, might seem to establish an opposite conclusion. Really no sound generali- zation on such a subject is possible to an undergraduate, unless he has access to figures, prepared by experts, covering a wide range of material. False generalizations are apt to be concealed in deductive reasoning, as implied premises. "Self-supporting students must allow their college work to suffer, for they have not as much time for study as their classmates." This state- ment assumes (i) that mastery of studies is in proportion to 248 FRESHMAN RHETORIC the time spent on them, and (2) that the students with plenty of leisure time use it largely in study. To state these assump- tions is to refute them. What the speaker might reasonably have asserted is that "Self-supporting students are likely to fall below their best work in the classroom, for they have often too little time for study." This, with its "hkely" and its "often," can easily be proved by a reasonable showing of figures bearing on the comparative standing of such students before and after beginning work, and on the average amount of time they have for study. We must beware of sweeping conclusions; they are difficult to establish and easy to attack. Other common fallacies arise from misusing the arguments from example and from analogy. The argument from example is an attempt to prove that a certain thing is true in the present case since it was true in other similar cases. Thus the probable success of the honor system in one college is defended by its admitted success in three other colleges. If it can be shown, however, that conditions in the college in question are radically different from those in the other three, the examples prove noth- ing. Still less would the success of the honor system in any number of colleges indicate anything as to its appUcation to a high school. The question to ask when one hears the argument from example advanced is whether the circumstances are similar enough to warrant a reasonable inference. The argument from analogy is a comparison of things in two separate spheres, between which there is alleged to be a sufficient likeness to afford a measure of proof. It thus differs from the argument from example, which compares things in the same sphere. A specious use of the argument from analogy is seen in the following advertisement of artificial rubies. Its force is lessened when we remember that ice is bought for use, whereas rubies are bought by many people less for their inherent beauty than for their scarcity value. ARGUMENTATION 249 "Imitation Ice" '"You do not reject a piece of ice frozen by a scientific process for one made by ordinary cold weather. Both are real ice, with all the properties of ice. "So with a ruby. Small ruby chips are melted in an electric furnace at a temperature of 6000 degrees, and fused into one real ruby, cut in the ordinary way, which when set has all the brilliancy of the natural gem — it is a 'real ruby.' Let us show you some of these 'synthetic' stones — good sized 'real rubies,' $5 to $15." The fallacy of objections consists in multiplying trivial points in opposition to a proposed policy without giving substantial proof, and without offering any alternative remedy for conditions admitted to exist. This is common in all sorts of argument, student debates as well as the controversies of politics and social reform. Even though many of the objections cannot be directly answered, this sort of attack may properly be met by pressing the main issues, insisting on the points admitted, and asking "What do you propose to do about it?" Commonest of all, however, in student arguments are two errors already named: (i) assertion without proof; (2) testi- mony taken from unknown, ill-qualified, or prejudiced writers. A vigilant listener, while on the lookout for unsound reasoning, needs to be even more alert to these forms of invalid argument. "Is that really a fact?" is an even more important question than "Is that good reasoning?" Every student needs to ask both these questions of himself in preparing his own argument, as well as to bear them in mind while he listens to an opponent or reads a written or printed argument. In concluding this chapter a protest may be uttered against all forms of insincerity and deception in college arguments, written or spoken. So far as possible, men ought always to argue on the side where they really stand. Questions for debate in which the sides are chosen by lot should be so evenly balanced that a careful student can find much to say on either side without 250 FRESHMAN RHETORIC sacrificing his self-respect. There is nothing about this branch of rhetoric that exempts it from the principles of candor and fair play that prevail among gentlemen. To make the worse appear the better reason is not argument but sophistry. Suggested Assignments Assignment 40. Study sections 149-153. Choose a subject from the list of twenty-five in section 152, and write out five questions based upon it, three being questions purely of fact and two of opinion. All questions should be specific, not vague; and all should be two-sided — not questions to which the answer is obviously either yes or no. For example, such questions as the following would be unsuitable: "Are automobile laws adequately enforced in this state?" "Do billboards disfigure scenery?" The answer to the first is obviously in the negative; to the second, in the affirmative. After writing out five questions, select that one which you regard as the best for discussion, and define any terms that need definition. Assignment 4.1. Study section 154. Write at the head of a sheet the question you have chosen for analysis. Below it write in parallel columns a comparison of the contentions on the two sides of the question. At least ten contentions should be listed on each side, none of which are mere para- phrases of others. Bring this statement of contentions to class, but retain it after class for use in the next assignment. Assignment 42. Study sections 155-158. Using the statement of con- tentions already prepared, mark all irrelevant points, points of agreement, and points waived (if any), and from the remaining contentions determine and write out the issues. The complete analysis (assignments 41 and 42, with definition of terms) is to be handed in. Assignment 43. Read section 159. Frame a question based on one of the twenty-five subjects listed in this section, and write a complete analysis, embracing all the seven points named, to be handed in. Assignment 44. Study sections 160-165. Choose one of the two ques- tions already analyzed, whichever you prefer to follow up and use as the basis of a complete brief. Consider, with reference to this question, what questions of fact will need to be answered in order to meet the issues. Write out at least ten such questions of fact, and place opposite each the source from which the best evidence is to be sought. Assignment 45. Study sections 166 and 167. Write out (in the form of compound sentences with the clauses joined by for) five propositions which ARGUMENTATION 251 you expect to use as arguments in your proof. Expand each of these into a complete syllogism by supplying the unexpressed major premise. Assignment 46. Study sections 168-173. Begin the writing of a com- plete brief on your subject. (The introduction is already complete, except for a brief sketch of the history of the question.) Assignment 47. Study section 174. Continue work on the brief. Assignment 48. Complete and copy the brief, to be handed in. CHAPTER XII WORDS 175. The relation of structure to style. Of the expression of thought in language we have hitherto considered chiefly but one element, — structure. Structure means building. We mean by it the frame of the house, the sills and joists and studs and plates and rafters, the struts and ties and braces, but not the siding or the clapboards or the shingles or the lath and plaster. Or struc- ture may be compared to the skeleton with its attached carti- lages and tendons, but without the inclosing tissues that de- pend upon it for support. By structure in rhetoric we mean the organization of thought; the choice and arrangement of ideas in order to put things where they belong. This process of planning the structure of a composition, to which so much of our attention has hitherto been given, is really an affair wholly of the mind, not of the tongue or pen; that is, it is determined by the quantity and quality of the thinking we do before we begin to speak or to write. Its ex- pression is the outline, or, in argumentation, the brief. With the exception of a few assignments, all the emphasis has been laid on structure. The main aim has been clearness. Our one chief concern was to use words so precise, sentences so compact, paragraphs so logically constructed and connected, that our thought could be understood; or rather, that it could not be mis- understood. The acme of this sort of writing is the familiar sign: RAILWAY CROSSING STOP! LOOK! LISTEN! 252 WORDS 253 To make language unmistakably clear is not so easy as it seems. People who write their own wills, legislators who try to evade constitutions, and treaty-makers who try to anticipate future contingencies, often fail even here. But there is another ele- ment in composition which is equally important and much more difficult, — style. Style is more than Dean Swift's "the proper words in the proper place." It is our way of saying things. Ten men writing from the same outline will have identical structure, but they will all have different styles; just as ten artists painting the same landscape, or portraits of the same person, will all produce different pictures. Ten cameras will give landscapes or portraits differing only in mechanical details; ten brushes or pencils will make pictures different in spirit, temper, interpreta- tion. Every artist has his style. "The style is the man." Now it is evident that structure is a more or less mechanical thing that can be mastered by any intelligent person. By such methods of analysis and arrangement of material as were ex- plained in Chapters II and IV, any student can learn to make a good outline. Most students can, if they revise often enough, make an outline that is practically perfect. But style is no such simple matter. There is no open or secret method of ac- quiring it in so many lessons. Good style is the result of much reading, much writing, much rewriting, much thought. Style is a matter of degree; everybody has some style; only the great masters can properly be said to have perfect styles. When we say of a poor writer, "He has no style," we do not mean just what we say. It would be like saying that a man has no way of walking, no manner of dress, no fashion of eat- ing his dinner. We really mean that he has a bad style, or fragments of many bad styles, with neither beauty nor even an original kind of ugliness. When we say, on the other hand, that a v/riter has a fine style, we may mean the elaborate prose rhythms of Ruskin, or the crystal simpUcity of Newman. We 254 FRESHMAN RHETORIC may mean a vivid, pictorial kind of scientific style like Profes- sor James's, or a plain kind like Huxley's. In every case we mean that the man has a way of saying things which marks him off from other men, and is in itself admirable. His style is good, and it is his. It has fitness for the writer, fitness for the reader, and fitness for the thought. He has made it, and it has made him. 176. The means of winning interest. Style depends on various factors. One element in it is euphony; another is vividness; another is variety. Sentences and words must sound well, must be full of pictures, must rest and refresh the ear by contrast. The chief aim of this euphony, vividness, and variety is not clearness; it is interest. We aim now not merely to be understood, but to be liked. We desire not only that men shall grasp our meaning if they care to listen, but also that they shall be made to care. The ambition of the man who wrote the railway sign is satisfied if he has made sure that "he who runs may read." If he can keep absent- minded drivers and "joy-riders" off the tracks when trains are due, he has earned his pay. But the story-writer, the orator, the familiar essayist, the dramatist, has a harder task. "He Cometh unto you with a tale which holdeth children from play and old men from the chimney corner," says Sir Philip Sidney. He must please the children better than their play^ and warm the old men's hearts like a Christmas fire. It may be his task to charm timid innocence into a daring resolve, or to kindle smoldering passion into a destroying flame. He may use his style to tell his own secrets, or to force other men to confess theirs. His is the knowledge of good and evil, the secret of sympathy, the key to the will: interest. If he would command, he must serve. If he would lead, he must follow. He that writes practices an art; and the aim of all art is, in the noblest sense, to please. 177. Good style in the general sense. The pleasure or WORDS 255 intetest which great literature arouses is in large part the result of the great ideas out of which it grows. Concerning those sources of beauty in books which arise from their con- tents, the student will be constantly learning in his study of literature. The form cannot be divorced from the content, the body from the spirit. Style for style's sake is an abomination. Yet if a student who never has great ideas, and never expects to have any, is to attempt to better his own style, he can do it in no other way than to put into practice in writing what he observes in reading. For style is not only individual but social. There is the individual style, and there is the general style; just as there is a German script, which every German writes with his own personal peculiarities. Each language has a style of its own. There is the French style, the German, the Hebrew. Each age has its style, its fashions in sentence- form and vocabulary. It is therefore evident that the student must to some extent model his style on the best general style of his age and country, while he is at the same time trying to develop individual expression. An art student draws casts a long time before he is admitted to the life class; and he must show proficiency in figure drawing before he can do much with compositions involving figures. Cliildren learning to write follow the copy with scrupulous care in the effort to imitate the standard; only when they are grown is it desirable that they should allow their handwriting to develop a certain freedom and variation from the pattern. In composition work the two sorts of training go on side by side. The student begins by learning those things which are common to all good writers and all good styles; but he con- tinues, if he has the natural bent and the industry to continue, by developing those peculiar powers of his own which gradually emerge. This book is devoted exclusively to the principles of composition which are common to all educated writers, omit- 256 FRESHMAN RHETORIC ting all that belongs merely to the individual cultivation of special powers, proper to elective work in composition. 178. Style largely a matter of specific words. We shall from this point think of writing not merely as the communica- tion of thought, but also as the communication of feeling. The desire to be interesting will be added to the desire to be clear. If we pause to consider wherein the attempt to be interesting differs from the attempt to be clear, it becomes evident that the difference is largely a matter of choosing words. A friendly letter describing an ordinary journey may be, and often is, extremely dull. In order to be interesting, it must be a series of pictures. The words must be specific words: verbs that have a jingle, or a boom, or a rattle, or a glide in them; nouns that call to the reader's mind a crag, or a canon, or a glen, or a lane that he has somewhere seen; adjectives that recall the odor of white violets, the smell of hayfields in August, the delicate green of the sky behind certain tints of rose in sunset clouds. Likewise in conversation, the racy talk is the talk that has snap in it; short words, but not too many of them; slang where it belongs, Shaksperean phrases that are house- hold words; everything specific, apt, pat. 179. The life-history of words. To a study of words, there- fore, every student of style must sooner or later come. He must know not only what they mean, but what they suggest; some- thing of their heredity and environment, as determining their manners and morals. For words are living things. They are born, sometimes in palaces and sometimes in stables. They go through the contagious diseases of infancy, and some few of them grow up. They are married, and have children. They flourish a while, and earn a Uving in the workaday world. Then often they grow weary and die, or wicked and are de- spised, or weak and are cast aside. One word is a reformed burglar, another is a degenerate saint. "Language is fossil poetry," says Emerson. Others have compared it, more WORDS 257 prosaically, to coins that come fresh from the mint, bright and sharp, passing current among men in bargains good and bad until they are worn smooth, and likely then to be retired or melted up. However we may phrase it, the fact is that there are words that are good for no purpose at all, because they are vulgar, or obsolete, or exhausted of meaning; and words that are good for some things but not for others. A study of good usage helps us to reject words that ought not to be used at all; a study of etymology and synonyms helps us to choose the particular words fittest to convey the precise thought and feeling which we desire to express. 180. Good usage. It is customary in textbooks of rhetoric to say that the tests of good usage in words are those of present, national, and reputable use. Present use excludes archaic words, on the one hand, which no normal student ever uses except in fun; and new, unaccepted words, on the other hand. National use excludes local or provincial dialect within one's own country, and foreign words for which there is an EngUsh equivalent. This again is not a danger point with young writers. Reputable use, however, is a test which college students need constantly to apply to their vocabulary. Many words appear in an unabridged dictionary which are labeled "colloquial" or "vulgar." They form part of the language, but not of the language of literature. The dictionaries sooner or later have to admit such verbs as to enthuse and to suicide and to suspicion, though under protest. Much slang, not all, is disreputable. The usage of the newspapers is in no way a guide to the standing of a word. Newspaper men are fond of short words on account of the limitations of headlines. They have introduced a new noun, probe, meaning originally a sur- geon's instrument for exploring a wound, but meaning now an investigation of alleged abuses by a legislative committee or other non-judicial body. From the headlines it has made its way into the text, and is now recognized newspaper EngUsh 258 FRESHMAN RHETORIC for "investigation." Nevertheless, it is not a reputable word. Some day it may be; many words which began as slang are now in irreproachable standing. It would be fooKsh to say that the verbs entJmse and suicide may not in half a century be as well accepted as the nouns tnob and cab, which are eighteenth century slang. The test of good usage is the English of the best writers and speakers: this, and not the more or less prejudiced opinions of textbook writers and professors is what ultimately decides a doubtful case. But how shall we determine what is actually the usage of the best writers and speakers? The only convenient way to ascertain the standing of any particular word is to consult the latest and best dictionaries. The American dictionaries, such as the New International Dictionary and the New Standard Dictionary, are to be preferred for this purpose to EngUsh works which label as U.S. many well established words and meanings. In consulting an unabridged dictionary for usage one should read the illustrative examples quoted from various authors, and should note whether the writers are such as would be accounted standard. It is not enough that somebody at some time has used a word in a certain sense. The question is. Is it now so used by people who know? 181. Etymology. By the test of good usage many words are excluded from our vocabulary entirely. To learn accurately the meaning of the words that pass this test is the next step. There are several means of improving one's knowledge of words, among which the study of their origin and history is important. A student does not need to know a great deal of Latin and French to profit largely by a little attention to etymology in his use of the dictionary. No attempt is made in the following pages to outline the history of the Enghsh language, however briefly, or to state the laws governing the composition of words. Time is lacking in the ordinary freshman course in rhetoric for any real study of etymology, however elementary. By means of WORDS 259 the examples and suggested exercises each student will be led to see for himself how interesting and how important is the study of word history. The development of a habitual curiosity regarding words is the end to be aimed at. For as a student's mind grows, and as he adds to the store of information with which it is furnished, he will meet many new words which sooner or later he must use. To scan these intelligently is bet- ter than to content himself with a rough approximation to their meaning. The facts of language stated in the following pages are intended to show how and why word-study is to be pursued. 182. English a Germanic language. Our vocabulary is made up of three principal elements. Old English (Anglo-Saxon), French, and Latin. Since the French words are ordinarily de- rived from the Latin, the three elements may be considered as two for elementary purposes; though, both from the point of view of history and from that of present sound and spelling, the French and the Latin words can often be clearly distinguished. Of these two principal strains in the language, the Old English and the Latin-French, the one is Germanic, the other Italic. Notwithstanding its extensive borrowing from French and Latin, the language itself, as is shown by its grammar, is plainly a Germanic tongue. There is a wide difference between the languages spoken in the north and in the south of Europe — the Germanic branch, on the one hand, to which belong German, Dutch, Danish, Norwegian, and Swedish; and the Italic, on the other hand, to which belong Latin and all the Romance languages derived from it. Yet both belong to the Indo-European family, and have relations which bind them together with the Hellenic, the Celtic, and other European languages, and with various languages of Asia. The ties which connect English with so remote a language as Russian or Old Irish or Sanskrit are far closer then the very slight relations it sustains to languages of other fami- 26o FRESHMAN RHETORIC lies, such as the Hebrew, the Arabic, the Chinese, the Malay, the North American Indian. For while English has borrowed words from all these languages, it has no kinship whatever with them; whereas it is related by collateral though remote lines to the ancient languages of India, to the speech of the ancient and modern Celts, to the languages of the Slavic races, and to most of the other tongues of Europe. 183. Words enter the language by descent, borrowing, or invention. We must distinguish three distinct kinds of origin for modern English words: (i) Direct descent, as in the case of house, home, from the Old English hus, ham. (2) Borrowing from other languages, as in the case of receive, borrowed directly from French recevoir, and indirectly from Latin recipio, which gives us directly recipient. Many Greek words came into Enghsh through their Latinized forms, such as martyr, from Latin martyrus, a martyr, Greek marturos, a witness. Indirect borrowing is also seen in the case of English words derived through Old Enghsh forms from the Latin, such as street. Old English straet, from Latin strata {via), a paved road. English borrows freely from the languages of all quarters of the globe, including many with which it has no linguistic relation- ship whatever. Such words as boomerang (Australian), to^na- hawk (Indian), igloo (Eskimo), algebra (Arabic), are examples of this tendency. (3) Invention, as in the case of such words as gas and kodak. Invented words are not very numerous. They are to be dis- tinguished from new compounds like automobile, of which the parts are borrowed from Greek and Latin. It is a serious mistake to suppose that English home is de- rived from German heim, or English mother from German mutter or Latin mater. These are examples of cognate words, words which are first or second cousins. Dictionary etymolo- gies are apt to be confusing in this matter, because they give WORDS 261 first the word from which direct descent is to be traced, and then a number of cognate words in the collateral languages. All words but the first, therefore, are to be regarded not as indicating the origin of the EngUsh word, but as showing how the same root assumes various forms in other languages of the same branch or family. What difference does it make from what language a word has come to us, or in what way it has come, whether by direct descent, indirect descent, or borrowing? What do we care about the cognates, in English or in other languages, if they mean different things? These are fair questions. They may be best answered by examples. 184. The subtle influence of derivation on words. Suppose in writing a political editorial one desires to refer to the illegiti- mate appropriation of public money by a corrupt governor or legislature. He may refer to a raid on the treasury. This is a fairly mild word — for a politician. A little later, when he gets excited, he may speak of booty or spoils. But he will need to be very reckless indeed, very careless of libel suits and other unpleasant consequences, before he will charge his opponents with looting or robbing the treasury. Is there any real difference among these words? They are called synonyms, which means that their meaning is not identical but similar. Other synonyms belong to the same group. A fairly comprehensive list would be as follows, including verbs and nouns : raid, rob, loot, pillage, rifle, sack, ransack, plunder, ravage, booty, spoils, depredation. 185. The history of robbery traced in words. These words are all alike in that they imply open violence rather than secret plots. Such words as steal, stealth, thief, burglar, larceny, embezzler, do not fit at all. This politician that we are after did not sneak in and make off with a few valuables in a furtive and surreptitious manner. What we want is a word that will picture an unscrupulous person laying violent hands upon the property of another. The twelve words in the Ust all convey 262 FRESHMAN RHETORIC that idea. How do they differ? A search of the dictionary reveals interesting facts. Indeed it carries us back to the old, lawless times of border raids on the Saxon frontiers, when bands of armed men rode suddenly down upon a farm or a hamlet, drove away the cattle, fired the houses, and as often as not killed the inhabitants. All the terror of the vikings is in these words; all the horror of the battlefield where the victois stripped the bodies of the slain; all the death and ruin of a captured city invaded by wild, drunken soldiers full of lust and greed. Raid is a Saxon word cognate with ride and road. The picture is that of a band of horsemen sweeping down upon a village. Another cognate word in the same series is ready. One who is ready is originally one who is booted and spurred for a raid, or at least for a ride. Rob and spoil and pillage are exact synonyms, all from Old French, the first going back to an Old High German word, and the other two to Latin. All three mean to strip off the robe or garment of a fallen warrior. The other eight words refer not to robbing the bodies of the dead and wounded on the battlefield, but to the plundering of houses and towns which follows victory. Rifle and ransack are words of the old Norse sea kings, who ran their ships into the coves along the eastern shores of England, landed in the night, and robbed and burned the towns. Rifle means to seize or snatch, ransack to search a house from top to bottom. Here, then, is a cruel echo from the rocky fjords of Norway and the barren plains of Iceland, ringing still in our peaceful English speech. Booty is another Scandinavian word. The idea of sharing, dividing the spoils, is dominant here. Ravage is French, and means to seize, from Latin rapio. The idea of depredation is similar, taking booty away from its owner. Loot is a word recently borrowed from the Hindustani, probably through the medium of the British army in India. In its native land it is a very ancient word with corresponding forms WORDS 263 in the Sanskrit, going back to the root RUP, meaning to break, from which the Teutonic word rob is also derived. Plunder is a German word, and means to carry ofif the very rags and rubbish found in the houses of the victims. Two other words might be added to the list: harry, which means to lay waste with an army, and havoc, now used in a weak sense, but once the signal to an army to begin looting. Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war. Thus in these seemingly harmless synonyms we read the his- tory of human wolves and jackals in all ages. Men, like the vultures, have stripped the bleaching bodies of the dead. Men, hke the sea wolves of the viking age, have snatched jewels from the hands and throats of screaming women, torn iron-bound treasure chests from the clutch of the dying, pulled houses into ruins in their search for hidden gold. All the human misery and blood by which the golden hoards of Danish pirates were amassed are here indelibly written. But the most interesting word of all is sack. In its mean- ing of plunder it is from the French, but the French verb is from the noun sac, a bag, which goes back to the dim ages of the past. We trace it back through the Latin to the Greek, through the Greek to the Hebrew, through the Hebrew perhaps to the Egyptian. Sackcloth is coarse cloth of the sort from which bags were made, worn as a symbol of mourning. Thus, while ransack carries us back to the Danes, rob to the wild Germanic tribes who swept over France in the dark ages, spoils to the Roman legions, loot to the hordes of ancient India, this word sack brings us into the lands of mystery and silence, the lands of Jacob and Joseph, the age of the pyramids. And yet some people lind the dictionary dull reading. 186. The art of writing traced in words. Perhaps this last word list was exceptional; perhaps most words are really unin- teresting. Surely in a spelling book or a grammar one could 264 FRESHMAN RHETORIC find no verbal romances. Let us see. What are some of the commonest words that have to do with written language? We have the nouns book, library, Bible, representing respectively the Teutonic, Latin, and Greek words for book. What do they mean? Book was formerly supposed to be connected with the beech tree, though this derivation is now doubted; library is from a Latin word that means the bark of a tree, Bible is from a Greek word that means the Egyptian papyrus plant. Paper is from the word papyrus itself, which is probably of Egyptian origin. Here we have the primitive writing materials of the ancients: the bark of trees, and the thin layers stripped from the stem of Nile rushes. But what about parchment? It comes, through French and Latin, from the Greek city of Per- gamum in Asia Minor. And what has Pergamum to do with sheepskin? Simply this, that the art of preparing sheepskin for writing was improved and revived by Eumenes II, king of Pergamum, about i6o B.C. The reason he resorted to parch- ment was that the Ptolemies, who ruled Egypt at that time, opposed his plan of establishing a public library at Pergamum by cutting off the supply of papyrus. Not to be thwarted in that fashion, the canny monarch soon developed a home industry that made the name of his capital immortal. Parchment was later superseded by vellum, which is simply calfskin, from the same Latin word that gives us veal. A volume means a roll of parchment or vellum ; and a code is a number of leaves stitched together at one edge like our books (originally two or more wooden tablets covered with wax and joined by rings — the "loose-leaf notebook" of Roman times). We have other commonplace words that have to do with written language, such as pen, style; graphic, scribe, write; letter, rune, alphabet. The pen and the style (it should be stile) are respectively the goose quill of the middle ages and early modern times (Latin penna, feather), and the pointed stick of wood or ivory (stilus) with which the Romans scratched upon WORDS 265 their wax-covered tablets. The commonest writing instrument used on papyrus and parchment was the reed pen, Latin calamus, which is not represented in Enghsh. The words write (Old EngHsh), scribe (Latin), and graph (Greek, e.g., telegraph), all mean to cut, to engrave; belonging therefore not to the use of the reed or the quill with ink, but to the use of the stylus on wax, or the chisel on wood, stone, or metal. Letter, on the other hand, is from a Latin word that means" to spread, to smear a soft sub- stance such as ink, using a reed pen on papyrus or parchment. The old Teutonic word rune has more "fossil poetry" in it than any of these others. It is found not only in Old English but in Icelandic, Old High German, and Gothic, and in all it means either a letter or a secret, a mystery, from a word that means to whisper. The old Norse runes, letters forming an alphabet made up entirely of straight lines and angles, easily carved on trees and rocks, were a wonderful thing in the lands of the north. They had magic in them. To talk was a simple thing; but to scratch signs of talk on a rock, so that other men should look at those scratches, and know what they had not known before — this was a mystery, a secret, a thing to whisper about, a rune. As for the alphabet, the word is Latin, Greek, Hebrew — the aleph, beth of the Hebrew alphabet. And as these Hebrew words mean respectively an ox and a house, we are carried back at once to the origin of the Greek alphabet, and from that to the Egyptian picture-writing of the hieroglyphic monuments. Apparently almost any common word takes us back to Ger- many in Caesar's time, or Egypt in the age of the Pharaohs, or India and Central Asia long before there were any Pharaohs at all. 187. The curious relationships of words revealed by etymol- ogy. There is another way to trace some of these curious family relationships in words. Philologists have worked out a Ust of several hundred Indo-European roots from which are 266 FRESHMAN RHETORIC descended thousands of words in various languages, including Greek, Latin, and English. Fick's list will be found in the introduction to the New International Dictionary. A similar list by Skeat appears in the appendix to Skeat's Etymological Dictionary. The student may work out for himself the associa- tion of ideas which links together the strangely diverse words in some of these groups. AK, meaning to pierce, to be sharp, to be quick, gives us, through various languages, our words add, acme, acrid, actite, edge, axe. DIEW, meaning to shine, gives us divine, deity, dial, diary, Zeus, Jupiter, Jove, jovial, Tuesday. GHES, meaning to strike, to destroy, gives us the two ideas, naturally associated among primitive peoples, of an enemy and a foreigner. From the one we get, through the Latin, our word hostile, and host (an army) ; from the other, the Germanic word guest. The man who feeds a stranger is his host; a place for the entertainment of strangers is a hospice or a hotel; a special kind of refuge for travelers or for the unfortunate stranger is a hospital; a servant about a hotel is a hostler. KERS, meaning to move fast, gives us, through the Latin, current, course; also, through the Celtic, the word carol, a rapid song, and car, a rapidly moving vehicle. From car, which passed into Latin and the Romance languages, we have the derived words cart, chariot, cargo, carry, career. The word charge originally meant to load a cart, and a caricature is a comic picture overloaded with exaggeration. The Germanic horse and the Celtic-Romance carriage are both from this root. MEN means to think. We have thus man, the thinking animal, who has a mind. By his mental powers he masters mathematics. He builds momimcnts to make other men remember the dead; he admonishes the living; sometimes he forgets (ceases to think of) an injury and grants amnesty to the offender. He has reminiscences and moods. Minerva and the Muses bear witness to his worship of intellect. This is a nobler word for a man than homo, the child of the dust, the slave of the soil (humus). PER is an interesting root. It means to go through, to advance. We have from it the old verb /arc, with the modem noun fare; ferry, far; ford; port, portal, porter, export, porch. In the sense of one passing through diflS- culties and dangers the root yields such words as expert, experience, peril, and fear. A pirate is one who tries a dangerous experiment; what we call an adventurer. WORDS 267 SKEU means to cover or shelter. The sky covers us all. Sometimes a cloud obscures it, and then we may expect a shower. A standing pool, or a soup-pot, is covered with saint, which we may skim off. The Latin for shield is scutum, which through the French gives us escutcheon, and esquire, a shield-bearer. This same root, SKEU, may be the origin of that group which includes the Latin word custodian, a guard or protector, and the Germanic words house, hut, hide, hoard. TEN means to stretch. Literally it gives us the tent, which is stretched out; the teiulon, the tendril, the tone of a stretched string; /A/;?, that which is stretched, and tender, which originally meant thin. Teneo in Latin comes to mean to hold; and from that meaning are derived many words such as con- tain, content, tenacious, attention, tenement, lieutenant, and dozens of others. WEGH looks like wagon, and naturally enough, for wagon comes from this root, which means to move, to carry. The dog wags his tail. Vehicles and wagons carry us along the way. The veins carry the blood; a veil was once the sail which carried a boat along. A wedge is a mover of wood, a splitter. To weigh a thing is to hft it ("weigh anchor"). WEID means to see, to know. It gives us wise, wisdom, wit, wizard, witch, to wit, unwitting, all Germanic; vision, evidence, and kindred Latin words; idea, history, idol, from the Greek; and the name of the ancient Hindu scriptures in Sanskrit is the Vedas. 188. Word-formation in English. Such comparisons throw many curious side lights on the history of language, which illus- trate the less obvious values of words; but after all they do not help us directly to determine the present meanings of words. For that purpose a more practical guide is a study of word-for- mation as it has gone on in our own language. The native or Saxon portion of the English vocabulary is more familiar to ordinary people than the Latin-French portion. Even those students who have devoted several years to Latin are often ap- parently unable to apply this knowledge to the interpretation of English words. Much more difficult than the Latin element in Enghsh is the large and increasing Greek terminology of physical science. Biologists, in particular, and medical men, employ a multitude of technical terms compounded from Greek roots. Inasmuch as few scientific students know a word of Greek, hundreds of such compounds have to be committed 268 FRESHMAN RHETORIC to memory as mere arbitrary forms,with no knowledge of the primary meaning ol the roots from which they are made. It is useless at this stage of American education to try to restore the required study of Greek; almost useless to expect scientific students to elect it; but all college students should learn as a matter of general information the signification of a few common Greek words employed in scientific terminology. The following word-Usts contain one hundred Latin words and one hundred Greek words, with examples of English words derived from them. They are to be learned, not by rote, but by association with the meaning of the English words. The Greek list is printed in part for reference, containing as it does a number of words used only in technical scientific terms. Mere memoriz- ing of these lists is not recommended, but such a use of them in word-analysis as will tend to cultivate a certain curiosity about new words, instead of a blind reliance on the dictionary. A student who comes across a new word, like retrogression, or hydro-dynamic, ought to be able at once to define it. He will hardly guess, on the other hand, that cryptogam, which seems to mean a secret marriage, refers not to an elopement but to a plant without stamens or pistils. There are many scientific terms that cannot be understood from their etymology alone; but the root nearly always throws some light on the meaning, and helps one to remember it. In the case of ordinary non-technical words of Latin or Greek origin, a knowledge of the etymology will often protect the student against mispronunciation or mis- spelling, as in words like sacrilegious, supersede, description^ ajfect, and effect. 189. Latin words common in English compounds. Prefixes I. ab, abs; a from absolve, abstract, avert 2. ad to adhere, affect, attract 3- ante before antecedent 4- hi two biennial, bisect WORDS 269 5- circum around circumnavigate 6. con, CO together convene, coordinate 7. contra against contradict 8. de from, about, nega- tive descend, decompose 9- di, dis away from, nega- tive diverge, dishonest 10. e, ex out of, former educate, ex-president II. extra beyond extradite 12. in in, negative induce, injustice 13- inter between interstate 14. intro into, within introspection 15- non negative non-resident 16. ob toward, against object, occur 17- per through, thorough perceive, peroxide 18. pre before precede 19- pro forward, for proceed, pronoun 20. re back, again recede, revise 21. retro . back retrogression 22. se apart secede 23- sub under submarine, support 24. super above supernatural 25- trans across, beyond Verbs transcontinental 26. ago, actum do agent, act 27. audio, auditum hear audible, auditor 28. cado, casum faU decadent, occasion 29. caedo (cid), caesum cut decide, incision 30. capio, captum take recipient, capture 31- cedo, cessum go precede, procession 32. credo, creditum believe creed, credit 33- curro, cursum run current, course 34- do, datum give dative, data 35- dico, dictum say edict, predict 36. doceo, doctum teach docile, doctor 37- duco, ductum lead educate, deduct 33. facio, factum make, do efficient, factory 39. fero, latum bear, carry differ, collate 40. flecto, flexum bend deflect, flexible 41. fluo, fluxum flow fluent, flux >7o FRESHMAN RHETORIC 42. frango, fractum break infringe, fracture 43- fugio, fugitum flee refuge, fugitive 44- gradior, gressus walk grade, congress 45- habeo, habitum have, hold habit, exhibit 46. jacio, jactum throw projectile, inject 47- jungo, junctum join junction, adjunct 48. lego, lectum read legend, lecture 49. loquor, locutus speak eloquent, interlocutor 50. mitto, missum send admit, missile 51- moveo, motum move move, motion 52. nascor, natus be bom nascent, innate 53- patior, passus suffer patient, passive 54- pello, pulsum drive expel, propulsion 55- pendeo, pensum hang dependent, pending 56. pendo, pensum weigh expend, expense 57- plico, plicatum fold complicate, duplicate 58. pono, positum place exponent, position 59- probo, probatum prove probable, probate 60. rego, rectum rule regent, rector 61. rumpo, ruptum break interrupt, rupture 62. scribo, scriptum write describe, inscription 63. seco, sectum cut secant, section 64. sedeo, sessum sit supersede, session 65. sequor, secutus follow consequent, consecutive 66. solvo, solutum loosen dissolve, solution 67. specie, spectum look retrospect, inspect 68. spiro, spiratum breathe inspire, expiration 69. sto, statum stand instant, station 70. tango, tactum touch tangent, contact 71- tendo, tensum stretch attend, tension 72. teneo, tentum hold tenement, content 73- venio, ventum come convene, intervention 74- vcrto, versum turn convert, verse 75- video, visum see evident, vision Nouns and Numerals 76. anima life animal 77- annus year anniversary 78. caput (genitive, capitis) head capital 79. centum hundred centennial WORDS 271 80. civis citizen civil 81. corpus (genitive, corporis) body corporation 82. dies day diary 83. dominus lord dominate 84. finis end infinite 85- lex (genitive, legisj law illegal 86. lingua tongue bilingual 87. littera letter illiterate 88. lumen (genitive luminis) light illumination 89. manus hand manufacture 90. mare sea submarine 91. mille thousand millennium 92. mors (genitive, mortis) death immortal 93- nomen (genitive, nominis) name nominate 94- norma rule abnormal 95- nox (genitive, noctis) night nocturnal 96. numerus number innumerable 97- opera work inoperative 98. pes (genitive, pedis) foot pedal 99. terra earth subterranean [OO. via way deviate Note. — Only the commonest meaning or meanings of each Latin word will be found in the hst. The two verb forms given are the present and supine stems, both of which yield many English derivatives. The hst of fifty verbs and twenty-five nouns might be indefinitely extended. The class can suggest additions of equally common words. 190. Greek words common in English compounds. The forms given for adjectives, adverbs, and nouns are not the complete Greek words, but the stems, or combining forms, in which they appear in Enghsh. It is unnecessary for the student to learn the Greek terminations which do not appear in com- pounds. Prefixes I. a, an negative aseptic, anhydrous amphi both, around amphibious, amphitheater 272 FRESHMAN RHETORIC 3- ana 4- anti 5- cata 6. dia 7- ec 8. epi 9- hyper 10. h>T3o II. meta 12. para 13- peri 14. pro 15- syn 16. mono 17- di 18. tri 19. tetra 20. pcnta 21. hexa 22. hepta 23- octa 24. deca 25. hemi 31- 32. A djectives 26. archaic 27. auto 28. crypto 29. dys 30. ecto, exo endo eu 33- gen 34. glyco 35. gymno 36. hctero 37. homo 38. iso 39. mega up analysis, anode against antiseptic down catastrophe, cathode through diameter out of eccentric upon epitaph above, excessive h3T)ertrophy, hyperchloric under, deficient hyposulphite after, different metabolism beside paragraph around perimeter before prologue with sympathy Numerals one, only monogamy two dioxide three trigonometry four tetrameter five pentameter six hexameter seven heptameter eight octagon ten decalogue half hemisphere nd Adverbs (Coml ini?!g Forms) primitive archaeology self autonomy hidden cryptogram, crj'ptogam difficult dyspepsia outside ectoderm, exogen inside endoderm, endogen well euphony producing, growing hydrogen, endogen sweet glycogen bare gymnasium, gymnosperm other heterodox same homonym equal isotherm, isobar large megaphone, megalomania WORDS 273 40. meso middle mesozoic, mesoblast 41. micro small microscope, microphone 42. neo new neolithic 43- ortho right orthography, orthopedic 44. palaeo old paleolithic 45- pan aU pan-American 46. phanero visible phanerogamic 47. poly many polygamy 48. proto first protozoon, protoplasm 49- pseudo false pseudonym 50. tele far telegraph Nouns {Combining : Forms) 51- andro, anthropo man (Bot., stamen) androg3Tious, anthropolo 52. astro star astrophysics 53- baro weight barometer 54- biblio book bibliography 55- bio Ufe biology 56. blasto sprout, germ blastoderm, mesoblast 57- carp fruit polycarpous 58. chrono time synchronous 59- cosmo world cosmopoUtan 60. cyte ceU leucocyte 61. dermis skin epidermis 62. dynamo power dynamometer 63. ethno race, nation ethnology 64. gam marriage (Bot., tilization) , fer- polygamy, cryptogamic 65- gastri stomach gastritis 66. ge earth geology 67. gram letter telegram 68. graphy writing biography 69. gyne woman (Bot., pistil) monogynous 70. histo tissue histology 71- hydro water hydraulics 72. hygro moisture hygroscopic 73- icthyo fish icthyology 74- lith stone neolithic 75= logy word, science philology, biology 76. meter measure thermometer n- morpho form morphology 274 FRESHMAN RHETORIC 78. neuro nerve neuropathic 79- ornitho bird ornithology 80. osteo bone periosteum 81. ped child pedagogy, pediatrics 82. patho feeling, suffering pathology 83- philo friend, lover philologian 84. phone sound microphone 85- photo light photometer 86. phyllo leaf phyllotaxy 87. physio nature physiology 88. phyto plant phytozoon 89. plasm substance molded protoplasm 90. pncuma air pneumatic 91- pus, pod foot octopus 92. psycho mind psychology 93- scope instrument for see- ing laryngoscope 94- sophy wisdom philosophy, theosophy 95- sperm seed gymnosperm 96. stoma mouth anastomosis 97- techne art technical 98. theo God polytheism 99- thesis placing synthesis 100. zoon animal pro to zoon 191. Usage as affecting the meaning of words. Inchoosing words, a writer or speaker may be governed by one or more of these four aims: correctness, clearness, force, beauty. The methods in obtaining correctness and clearness by means of good structure in paragraphs and sentences have been discussed and practiced in the first half of this course. Correctness and clearness in the choice of words depend ui)on a knowledge not only of their derivation but also of their usage. The four adjectives transient, transitory, transitive, and transitional all come from the Latin verb transire.j to go over or across. They all imply move- ment, change. But usage has determined that we shall say a transient guest, a transitory world, a transitive verb, a transi- tional period. To speak of a transitory verb, or a transitive WORDS 275 world, is absurd. The verbs substitute, supersede, replace, and displace have kindred meanings and somewhat similar deriva- tions; but it is incorrect to say, as careless speakers often do, that one man is substituted by another. One man (A) may be substituted /or another (B);but B is displaced or superseded by A. Etymology taken by itself gives us no aid in following these changes wrought by usage. Environment has as much to do with words as heredity. To each term of the following series military usage has assigned a definite meaning: company, bat- talion, regiment, brigade, division, corps, army. Each word taken by itself might be vaguely or metaphorically used of any number of armed men. The series, however, is technical, and can be defined not at all by etymology, but only by reference to a good dictionary. 192. Definition. The test of exact knowledge concerning the meaning of a word is to define it without referring to a dic- tionary. Thus one may affirm that under present American conditions a regiment of infantry is a body of foot-soldiers nor- mally consisting of three battalions. One may define a major as the commanding officer of a battalion, or as a commissioned officer next in rank below a lieutenant-colonel. A jail is a place of detention for persons accused of crime while awaiting trial, and for convicts serving short terms of imprisonment. These are not dictionary definitions, and are open to various criticisms. Thus it might be objected that not all persons awaiting trial are kept in jail, for many are released on bail; and. a question might be raised as to what is meant by a short imprisonment. The one-sentence definition would have to be expanded into two or three in order to cover such points. If it were demanded that the jail should be carefully distinguished from the penitentiary, a whole paragraph of exposition would be necessary. Indeed, much exposition is only expanded definition. A definition is a statement which assigns the subject, first, to a 276 FRESHMAN RHETORIC general class, and then to a special part of that class; in other words, as naturalists say, to a genus and a species. We assign the jail to the general class places of detention (the genus), and distinguish it from police stations, reformatories, penitentiaries, hospitals for the insane, and other places of detention by nam- ing two of its differences from other species of the genus. If we had assigned the jail to a genus so vague as that of houses or public buildings, we should have had to make a longer defi- nition; for the idea denoted by the phrase place of detention would have had to be included among the differences. The secret of a good definition is therefore to choose a genus as limited as can be found to include the subject. The term lilac is to be assigned, not to the genus plant, but to the genus flowering shrub. Of course a botanist assigns it to the botan- ical genus syringa. The term violoncello is not merely "a musical instrument"; it is "a stringed instrument (genus) played with a bow" (species); and the only differences that need to be added are as to its comparative size and its place in the string quintette. A pencil is "a writing instrument"; a gouge is "a cutting tool"; a' lagoon is "a body of water." The more carefully the genus is narrowed down, the easier will it be to assign the specific differences. Definitions of verbs, adjectives, and adverbs cannot always be framed on this principle of assigning them to a genus and naming differences. We may say that to revise is "to examine with a view to correction and improvement," in which the genus is "to examine"; or that to transplant is "to move a plant from one situation to another." But the only way we can define adynirable or quickly is by the use of synonyms or paraphrases. Such definitions are always liable to the error of defining a thing by itself, in sentences like these: "A judge is a judicial officer." "Vicious is of the nature of vice.' "Suit- ably is in a manner that suits." No word derived from the same root may be used in definition. WORDS 277 It is perhaps unnecessary to add that a man's definition may never be in the childish form, "An avalanche is where a large quantity of snow slides down a mountain," or "A conviction is when a jury finds a man guilty." In the definition of a noun the verb is must always be followed by a noun or noun phrase, never by an adverbial clause. This is a matter of grammar rather than of rhetoric; nevertheless there are few college classes in which the "It's where" definition is not sometimes heard. Practice in impromptu definition of assigned words without consulting a dictionary will bring out the difficulties of accurately marking the limitations and distinctions of ideas. If we were always called upon to define words before we used them, there would be less talking. Fortunately this is neither necessary nor desirable; but occasionally it is well to test the extent of our ignorance by trying to put vague conceptions into words. The most valuable part of practice in definition is the habit of not- ing the finer distinctions in words. This naturally leads us to a discussion of synonyms. 193. Synonyms. Synonyms are words of similar or identical meaning. The English language is rich in synonyms. For every verb or adjective, every abstract noun, in the vocabulary of the ordinary college freshman there exist several approximate equivalents, some one of which is quite likely to be nearer his thought. We may say of a man that he is capable of doing great things, or able, or competent, to do them. Here are three distinct ideas, closely akin. A source of water supply may be called sufficient, or adequate, or abundant. A fire, or a rail- road accident, may cause apprehension, anxiety, fright, fear, dismay, consternation, terror, horror; it can hardly cause awe. That is aroused only by great convulsions of nature or of the human soul. Awe is one of our strongest nouns; that is the reason why we have perversely chosen to make from it one of our weakest adjectives. Those who know just where a word 278 FRESHMAN RHETORIC like awe, or splendor, or glory belongs in the scale of human values may well hesitate to toss about the corresponding adjec- tives like petty coins. This weakening of our words of high potential has come to such a pass that we have few strong words left. The best we can do is to guard the values that survive in literary English, the English of elevated prose and of poetry. For such conservation of natural resources a study of words, and especially of synonyms, is indispensable. When we see how swiftly a noble word can be debased, and how whole generations suffer for the want of it, we shall be loath to join in the cheapening of a precious thing that cannot be replaced. 194. "Words as conveying force and beauty. We are now passing the invisible frontier that separates the use of language as a trade from the use of language as an art. The artisan's English aims only to get a thing said so that it can be under- stood. The artist's EngUsh aims to do that, and more. The something more is to suggest more than the word actually denotes. Besides correctness and clearness it is desirable to attain force in all kinds of speaking and writing; and in many, if not in all, it is desirable and possible to attain a kind of beauty. The choice of words with particular reference to their force and their beauty (that is, their peculiar fitness to the idea) is often called diction. It is an important element in style. No writer, however logical his paragraphs and his sentences, can hope to be interesting without some care for diction. It will not do for him to be content with any word which, according to the dictionary, denotes his thought. He must have some care as to what his words suggest ; what their associations are ; what feel- ings of admiration or disgust, seriousness or absurdity, they carry with them. He must recognize that in all kinds of speak- ing and writing that aim at conveying feeling as well as thought, the hidden values of words are to be taken into account. This does not apply to a technical essay on the combusion of low- grade bituminous coal. It does apply to an essay on the moral WORDS 279 training of low-grade boys, or an address on the suppression of low-grade reading. 195. Denotation and connotation. These two values of a word may be expressed as its coefficient and its exponent; as its length and breadth, on the one hand, and its height or depth, on the other. Or they may be thought of as the primary and the induced electric current of a word; or as the primary note and the upper partial vibrations (overtones) of a piano string, or a church bell. It is true that some minds cannot perceive a third dimension in language, since they live in but two. So there are plenty of people who cannot hear the overtones in a bell. That is their misfortune — though they are rather too apt to boast of it, as a man boasts that he never reads poetry, or a woman that she cannot sew. But the overtones are there just the same, and so is the poetry (likewise the sewing). The primary value of a word is its denotation; its secondary, association value, is called its connotation. Such a distinction is best shown by illustrations. The word elegance denotes choiceness : the quality which comes from care- ful selection of the best and fittest. At present, in this country at least, it connotes show, display, ostentation, luxury. In fact, it is one of those debased words to which reference has been made. The older rhetoricians insisted on elegance as an impor- tant quality in style. To modern readers this suggests the intolerable notion of picking out words because they sound pretty. A sensible writer will recognize such associations, how- ever irrational, and avoid the word as a term of commendation. Words of poetical connotation are often felt to be inappropriate in plain prose. There are words like dell, and glen, and glade, and isle, with a somewhat poetical connotation, which may on that account be all the more suitable for some kinds of prose description, whereas in a guidebook or a newspaper they would look foolish. The test is, what associations does this word call up in the 28o FRESHMAN RHETORIC mind, aside from its direct meaning? Does it suggest things romantic and bookish, like bourgeon? Then it will not do in an unromantic and unbookish style. Does it have a clashing note, a discord among its overtones? Then it is out of place in a serious composition. One of the easiest and most effective ways of being funny is to ignore or defy the connotation of words. Unless a writer intends to be funny, he must take care not to introduce homely words into lofty discourse; and unless he means to be ridiculous he will not use poetical or learned words in ordinary talk — but modern students seldom do that. There are words, good enough in themselves, whose connota- tion makes them unsuitable for some kinds of composition; such as words referring too baldly to death {corpse, deceased); to unpleasant sensations; to crimes and vices, diseases and de- formities, and all kinds of ugliness. A legitimate euphemism controls here. This is very far from squeamishness. The question at this point becomes one not so much of words as of ideas, and may safely be left to a normal and educated taste. In trying to estimate the value of words according to their connotation, we discover that there is an unknown quantity in the equation — the reader's mental associations, which differ from the writer's in ways that cannot be foreseen. A word like success, which to many young Americans seems to connote all that is worth having in life, may suggest to some readers only the vulgar rich. Culture is a word that Matthew Arnold and his disciples have bravely tried to rescue from dilettante connotations; yet it is doubtful if they have succeeded. In the end every one must test connotation by his own honest estimate of the word's effect upon his own admiration or disgust. Does he have to repress a smile when he hears it? Then others may not even repress their smiles. Does the word sound like a drum, or a tin pan? A trumpet, or a penny whistle? If it is weak on the lips of the speaker, it will be weaker in the ears of the crowd; for a man must believe in his own words. WORDS 281 196. The study of synonyms. The reading of great litera- ture will unfailingly develop our power to perceive word values. While we cannot pick out, as we read, a list of words, and label one witty, another delicate, another majestic, or mystical, or austere, yet our taste is cultivated and our judgment ma- tured. Particularly is it helpful to study synonyms as found in the style of a writer given to the expansion of thought by iteration and paraphrase. The poetical books of the Old Testa- ment and the collects and liturgies of the Book of Common Prayer offer a rich field for a study of word values. The ad- jectives in descriptions, the verbs in narrative, the abstract nouns in essays and orations, should be observed with the spe- cific intent to discover why these words were used rather than others, and what special associations they convey. One special reason for acquiring a mastery of synonyms may be separately mentioned. It is often convenient to have a choice of two or three words in order either to avoid repetition or to escape a harsh sound. The principle of variety in style prohibits a monotonous recurrence of the same word unless designed for clearness or emphasis. Merely accidental or care- less repetition of an adjective within the same sentence, and frequently of a noun, should be corrected in revision by sub- stituting a synonym. A lack of euphony due to unpleasant combination of harsh consonants, a faulty rhythm, or a rime in prose, should be similarly remedied. The ridiculous extent to which the fear of repetition is carried in the style of some newspaper reporters and headline writers need not lead students to neglect reasonable care in this matter. When clearness re- quires either repetition (since there is no good synonym) or a clumsy paraphrase, it is always safe to repeat. The following helps to the study of synonyms may be recom- mended. Some one of them should be accessible to the student when he is revising his written work. 282 FRESHMAN RHETORIC Roget : Thesaurus of English Words and Phrasfs. Soule: Dictionary of English Synonymes. Crabb: English Synonyms. Smith: Synonyms Discriminated. Fernald: English Synonyms, Antonyms, and Prepositions. March: Thesaurus Dictionary of the English Language. Of these books Roget and Soule merely list synonyms, for the specific differences of which one must consult the dictionary. Crabb, Smith, Fernald, and IVIarch discriminate the several words in each group. The latter kind is more useful for stu- dents. Ordinary dictionaries also contan brief notes on the differences among synonyms. Those in the unabridged diction- aries are in many cases as good as those in special works on synonyms. Even the material of this sort in smaller diction- aries, however, such as the Desk Standard Dictionary and Webster's Secondary School Dictionary is sufficiently full to be Very useful in college composition. 197. Exercise in the discrimination of synonyms. Using one of the last four of the books on synonyms above named, or the articles on synonyms in an unabridged dictionary, or in the Desk Standard Dictionary or Webster's Secondary School Dictionary or Collegiate Dictionary, study the synonyms of the words in the following list. In this study there are two distinct purposes: (i) to learn by natural association of ideas as many synonyms as possible for each word — not less than three or four in any case; (2) to learn how these synonyms differ from one another in meaning. In the latter task, in the case of words derived from Latin, the knowledge already acquired by studying the list of Latin words in section 189 will be useful. This assignment should have as much time as may be necessary for thorough preparation. The particular method best suited for aiding memorization will differ with various students. Some written memoranda will usually be necessary to fix the material in mind. The synonyms and their distinctions of meaning should be so WORDS 283 thoroughly learned that oral or written tests upon them can be successfully undertaken. List of Words I. absurd 2. adjacent 3- alliance 4- allow 5- alternative 6. amateur 7- amazement 8. anticipate 9- attain 10. austere II. beautiful 12. business 13- catastrophe 14. circumlocution 15- competition 16. conquer 17- console 18. continual 19. courage 20. dark 21. deception 22. delicious ^l,- delighted 24. delusion 25- design 26. diction 27- dream 28. dress 29. duplicate 30. enthusiasm 31- equivocal 32. esteem 33- evident 34- examine 35- fact 36. faith FOR Study of Synonyms 37. fear 38. fiction 39. financial 40. fine 41. formidable 42. friendly 43. frighten 44. funny 45. garrulous 46. get 47. glow 48. good 49. healthy 50. idea 51. idle 52. identical 53. ignorant 54. imagination 55. impediment 56. indefatigable 57. interpose 58. law 59. he 60. hkely 61. love 62. mind 63. mysterious 64. name 65. nimble 66. notwithstanding 67. obscure 68. obtain 69. pardon 70. permission 71. poetry 72. praise 284 FRESHMAN RHETORIC 73 pretense 74 previous 75 price 76 primeval 77 queer 78 reason 79 religion 8o. reprove 8i. revenge 82. revolution 83. riddle 84 romantic 85 salary 86 scholar 87 science 88 sensation 89 sin 90 spontaneous 91 sublime 92 suggestion 93 supernatural 94 suppose 95 tasteful 96 tedious 97 tool 98 topic 99 wisdom 100 wit 198. Antonyms. Antonyms are words of opposite meaning; the antonym of good is bad, that of wise is unwise or foolish, that of virtue is vice. Not all words have precise antonyms; some words have several, differing by shades of meaning like those which distinguish synonyms. Good practice in word study can be had by attempting to name one or more antonyms for each word in an assigned list without looking in a dictionary. The Standard Dictionary lists antonyms under many words, after the section on synonyms. A specific way in which a knowledge of antonyms may prove useful in writing is in framing antitheti- cal or balanced sentences, in which words and their opposites are set off against one another. 199. Doublets. Another valuable exercise in discriminating words arises from the existence in English of a large number of doublets. Doublets are pairs of words which have come into the language at different times from a single root — usually Latin. Those words which came into English from Latin before the conquest, and from French before the sixteenth century, were often so changed as scarcely to reveal the Latin original. A second word formed directly from the Latin was often added, usually with a change of meaning. Orally or in writing the class WORDS 285 should differentiate, both in denotation and in connotation, the following doublets: aggrieve, aggravate amiable, amicable appraise, appreciate balm, balsam benison, benediction blame, blaspheme chasten, castigate chivalry, cavalry chateau, castle choir, chorus count, compute confuse, confound coy, quiet strange, extraneous fiddle, viol genteel, gentle human, humane isolate, insulate obeisance, obedience penance, penitence pity, piety poignant, pungent poor, pauper priest, presbyter pursue, prosecute prudent, provident renew, renovate slander, scandal sprite, spirit jealous, zealous 200. Strong words. There is much value in making a list of strong words, words that give special force to speech. These are short, largely monosyllables, and abound in mute consonants; e.g.: brag flash howl splash brute gaunt hurl stout burly grease pounce sturdy clang grim scorn thump crash grime scream tug cringe grip shudder whack daft groan sUme wheeze drag heave sneak wrench It would be an interesting classroom exercise to collect on the blackboard as many words as possible notable for their in- herent force. Such a word often lifts a descriptive sentence out of weakness and dullness into real power. The danger is that having once discovered a good, robust monosyllable and used it with pleasing effect, the writer may work it to death. But any good thing can be spoiled by overuse. Young writers 286 FRESHMAN RHETORIC will avoid this danger if they will be constantly looking for new words notable for force. The prose romances of William Morris, and his translation of Beowulf, may be studied for strong Saxon and Norse words of this sort. Morris carried his admiration for them to excess; but we learn the virtues of most qualities in style, as of most drugs in medicine, by observing them in excess and employing them in moderation. 201. Overworked words. The striving for force by using new words, or old words in a new sense, is easily overdone. Literary critics of a certain type, for example, sought at one time to praise a novel by calling it a "big, red-blooded story." It was "gripping," then "convincing" or "compelling;" then "intriguing." Psychological writers worked the noun urge and the verb function very hard for a time. Writers on international politics seized upon the familiar word gesture, and not only twisted it into new and unheard of meanings but grew so fond of it that an article seemed scarcely complete without several "gestures." Some of these innovations come by way of imitation of French idioms; some copy popular writers; some grow by means of newspaper headlines and magazine advertising. Part of the business of a student of English composition is, while constantly adding vigorous words and phrases to his vocabulary, to recognize at the same time that there is danger of running a new word too hard. Variety is just as important as force; and, indeed, force soon departs from any form of expression that has become stereotyped. This is true no less of the would-be smart style of some professional journalists than of the trite phrases of the country newspaper or the obsolete slang of the back streets. It is a good plan for every college freshman to keep two lists of words, adding to them frequently as he reads and writes: a list of good new words which he intends to use as occasion may arise, and another list of words which he finds himself using too much. He will find it easier to compile this latter list for his friends, or even for his professors, than for himself; but it will afford him WORDS 287 more education, though perhaps less amusement, if he confines it to his own verbal excesses. In this connection a little book called Are You a Broniidef by Gelett Burgess, will do much to bring about a proper humiUty among writers too well satisfied with themselves. 202. Enlarging ones vocabulary. Every educated person has four concentric vocabularies: (i) a colloquial vocabulary of a few hundred words, sufficient for ordinary daily conversation; (2) a somewhat larger speaking vocabulary, including part of I and many other words, used in formal speaking, such as classroom recitation and debates; (3) a still larger writing vocabulary, employed in formal composition, including all of 2 and hundreds of other words never uttered; (4) a very much larger list, including all of i, 2, and 3, and thousands of other words, which are understood when they are met with in books, but are never spoken or written. These words in the fourth class, outside of the third, should, perhaps, not be called a vocabulary, since they are never used as a means of self- expression, but only as a means of receiving impressions. Now we never under ordinary conditions transfer a word di- rectly from 4 to i; that is, we never introduce suddenly into conversation a word hitherto known only as a book-word. Moreover, we do not often bring such words directly into formal speaking (2) without having first written them several times by deliberate choice (3) There are psychological reasons for this slow and indirect method of putting words to use, which it is not necessary to dwell upon here. The fact will be evident to any one upon reflection. The order of steps in en- larging one's vocabulary is to add words to 4 by reading and the use of the dictionary; to transfer words from 4 to 3 by introducing them deliberately in the revision of written compo- sition as occasion may arise, and to repeat such use until the word comes naturally to the pen. Then, and not until then, will a new word come naturally to the tongue in formal speak- 288 FRESHMAN RHETORIC ing (2); and later, or not at all, according to the nature of it, will make its way into familiar talk (i). There are two points, then, at which the increase of vocabu- lary is wholly within our deliberate control: the addition of words to 4 from without, and the transfer of words from 4 to 3 in the revision of written work. At a third point deliberate transfer is possible within narrow limits, the uttering for the first time in formal speaking (2) of a word already used several times in writing. For formal speaking requires a certain de- gree of seK-consciousness, an attention to what one is saying and how one is saying it, so that the slight hesitation or shy- ness mseparable from the use of new words is not serious. Still, this transfer from the writing to the speaking vocabulary most often comes about automatically. A man has written adequate in his themes and notebooks for a month or two, whenever it happened to be a better word than enough or sujjicient. Some day it slips off his tongue before he knows it, in some such phrase as "adequate conception." It has been transferred from one part of his brain to another, from the book-words to the talk- words. It is no longer a liability but an asset: not a debt he owes to the dictionary, but a credit balance on which he can draw when he chooses. Evidently therefore the solution of the whole problem lies in using new words in that kind of writing and speaking which demands the widest range of expression. Just as the scientific student soon finds himself using technical terms freely in ordi- nary talk, so any student will find himself master of new verbs and adjectives and abstract nouns every month if he slips them in first when he is writing themes, with nobody looking on. A fear of what people will say need not then deter him, as it will if he tries to introduce new words first into his talking. Men rightly distrust artificial or affected conversation. It is a healthy instinct that leads young peopk to smile at one who is evidently "showing off" his new dictionary words in conversation. WORDS 289 As has been pointed out in Chapter X, colloquial English naturally avoids hundreds of standard English words, and pur- posely seeks direct, homely, racy modes of expression. On the other hand, it is an irrational and stupid tradition of young people that would restrict the total speaking vocabulary to the colloquial range: reducing vocabulary 2 to the diameter of vo- cabulary I. The recitation, the classroom report or dissertation or criticism, and particularly the debate, are the college student's opportunities to acquire the full speaking vocabulary of the educated world; opportunities which he will never again have presented to him with so little embarrassment and so generous encouragement in the exercise of them. The whole trend of modern psychology and education confirms the contention here made, that ideas are not truly ideas until they are put into words; and that words are not truly words while they remain black marks in print, but become such in the fullest sense when they are first pen-strokes on paper and then voice-sounds in speech. Nothing is really ours until we use it. The best popular book on word-history for collateral reading is Words and Their Ways in English Speech, by Greenough and Kittredge. The best essay on the enlargement of vocabu- lary is Self-CuUivation in English, by George Herbert Palmer. This latter book should be read by every student of English. A useful exercise would be to go through any piece of good English prose, such as Professor Palmer's essay itself, writing down every word which the student is aware he never uses either in speaking or in writing. Such a list, if added to from time to time, would give a suitable beginning for the enlargement of one's writing vocabulary in future composition work. The principal thing to note about this chapter on words is that, unlike the rest of the book, it is only the beginning of a kind of self-cultivation which cannot be finished in one year or four, but will go on as long as the mind continues to grow. 290 FRESHMAN RHETORIC Suggested Assignments Assignment ^g. Study sections 175-180. Collect a list of twenty words in common but not in good usage. Assignment 50. Study sections 181-187. Look up in an unabridged dictionary the etymologies of all the italicized words in sections 185-187. Assignment 51. Study sections 188 and 189. Prepare for a quiz on EngUsh words derived from Latin words in this list. Assignment 52. Study section 190. Prepare for a quiz on English words derived from the Greek words in this hst. Assignment 53. Study sections 191-192. Examine in a dictionary the definitions of ten or more words chosen at random from the text of this chapter (such words as paraphrase, detention, metaphorically, environment, impromptu), in order to learn how to frame a satisfactory definition of a word of which the meaning is known. This work is in preparation for an oral or written test in the class consisting of definitions of familiar words. Assignment 54. Study sections 193-196. Learn the synonyms for the first twenty-five words in the list in section 197. Assignment 55. Study the synonyms for words numbered 26-75 V^ section 197. Be prepared to illustrate the proper use of these synonyms by making sentences containing them. Assignment 56. Read section 198. Study the synonyms numbered 76- 100 in section 197, and select antonyms for as many as possible of the words in section 197. Assignment 57. Study sections 199-202. Make a list of commonly overworked words. CHAPTER XIII THE INTERPRETATION OF LITERATURE 203. Writing about books. One of the noblest uses of human speech is to praise with discrimination, and another is to share one's discoveries. This, for the student, is what must pass for criticism. With regard to the word criticism there exists a notable confusion of ideas, even since Matthew Arnold's patient endeavor to define it once and for all. Nothing can be more hypocritical than for young people who are still in the rudiments of literature to be forced into pronouncing objective judgments as to the worth of literature. Students instinctively feel this, and resent all attempts to get them to pretend a knowledge which they do not possess. On the other hand, they are beginning to be dissatisfied with judging books and other works of art on the ground of mere impulsive like or dislike. It is time, then, for something less ambitious than criticism, and more thoughtful than caprice. Now criticism, whatever else it does, must at least interpret. Its judgment of value is based on interpretation. A book review for example, must first tell us what the book is about, what the author has tried to do. For the time being the critic stands in the position of a neutral, or a friend, in his endeavor to make known what the writer has attempted. Only by special training is a critic really fitted to go much beyond that point, and to show wherein the attempt has succeeded, and wherein it has failed — to estimate its value for science, or history, or literature, or whatever field it seeks to enrich. True criticism is an attempt to help people to understand why a thing is good, and to profit by its goodness; or to show them why it 291 292 FRESHMAN RHETORIC is bad, and to guard them against its badness. The expert criticism that has value for society is beyond our reach to produce; but the honest interpretation of the reader who likes a book, and knows why he likes it, is within the reach of all. It is simple, making no pretense; modest, demanding no assent. The interpreter's chief concern is not that others shall agree with his opinion, but that they shall be attracted to read and to judge for themselves. 204. The imaginary audience. Let the student choose from his recent reading a novel, a book of short stories or essays, a play or group of plays, a biography, and prepare to formulate his ideas for the writing of an interpretation. Whether read during the college year or previously, the book must be one that he admires; one that is worth re-reading, worth buying. It must be the kind of book concerning which one keeps thinking "Jim would like this," or 'T wonder if Bill ever read this book — it's just his style." Remember Jim and Bill in the interpreta- tion; let their mild, well-bred interest, or their incredulous smiles, or their deep-rooted antipathy to this particular kind of book, spur the writer to his best efforts. How can it be that a biog- raphy should be interesting? they wearily inquire. Why read a problem play? Are there not enough problems without hunting them up in books? How can a professional jester say anything wise? "Is Saul also among the prophets?" Good interpreta- tion meets such opposition not with a weak "I like it anyhow," Init with a defense of the faith, and a counter-attack upon the tyranny of secondhand opinions. The interpreter is not a partisan of any particular belief of his own, but a partisan of the spirit of open-mindedness against the stolid Philistinism of brains but half awake. He will rouse such people with his enthusiasm if he can; but if that fails, he will stick a pin in them, just to see them jump. Anything but the yawns of contented ignorance! 205. The harmless pretense of discovery. In this happy THE INTERPRETATION OF LITERATURE 293 mood, not unmixed with mischief, let us see where to begin the task of interpretation. We are not ashamed to admit that our enthusiasm is naive, the freshness of knowledge newly won in fields familiar to the learned world. The book we read for the first time last month, so far from being our discovery, has be- guiled a thousand readers before our day into the pleasing illu- sions of the pioneer; but what of that? For us, and for our audience, it is new. We, thank heaven, are not yet old enough to apologize for our admirations. We know no better than to suppose that every book is a new book until we have read it. Each generation must launch its own Argosies, and find its own Hesperides. The Golden Hind of youth is the one im- mortal ship. She carries a new crew on every voyage; and she will be sailing still when every port is charted, and the gay young sailors can discover nothing but themselves. Youth makes us bad judges but excellent partisans. In middle age, men are prone to laugh at their fellow who is always full of the book he has read last; but in youth he is welcome in any com- pany if he knows how to interpret his praise. Let the chosen book, then, be an old book hitherto unknown or a new book still on trial before the world. Lamb's letters, or the letters of William James; the life of an Elizabethan voyager, or the logbook of a modern Arctic explorer; a novel of Jane Austen, or of William de Morgan, or Joseph Conrad; the poems of Robert Herrick, or of Alfred Noyes; Walton's Compleat Angler, or a volume by John Burroughs, or John Muir: anything that will brighten a cloudy day, or beguile a lonely night, or people an empty house with the figures of mystery and fancy. Over the choice there need be little lingering, for a man may choose pretty much what he likes. He is only to be sure that he does like it, and wilUng to tell other people why. 206. The three questions to be answered. There are three questions that must always be asked and answered by a critic: 294 FRESHMAN RHETORIC (i) What did the author attempt? (2) How well did he accomplish it? (3) What is the value of his work for his age and for ours? It has already been pointed out that to .answer adequately the second of these questions calls for more learning than most of us possess. The best that can ordinarily be done in bring- ing a book to the attention of those who do not know it is to show what the book stands for, and what it signifies to us: to interpret it, and to appreciate it. Of the three tasks of criti- cism, (i) fair interpretation, (2) impartial judgment, and (3) personal appreciation, the first is a matter of study, the second of taste, and the third of sympathy. By study we find out what situation confronted the author, such as the social abuses which stimulated Dickens and Charles Reade, and the end he had in view. By taste, which is an educated judgment based on permanent standards, we rank his work in relation to that of his contemporaries and of other ages — a difficult task, from which it is hard to separate personal prejudice. By sympathy, a feeling quite as much as an idea, we voice the desire to see a good thing more widely known. To interpret a book does not mean to write a biographical sketch of the author or a condensed summary of his narrative. Both his life and his story — if it be a story — are to be used, but not rehearsed for their own sake. The questions to be answered under the first head are such as these : 207. Interpretation in the light of the age. What kind of age did the author live in? What were its dominant inter- ests in pohtics, industry, morals, manners, religion, or other human concerns? Illustrations: Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress is to be interpreted in the light of seventeenth century Non- conformist religion, Bedford jail, Restoration corruption, and so on. Bret Harte's stories require some knowledge of old days in California. 208. Interpretation in the light of the author's life. What THE INTERPRETATION OF LITERATURE 295 is there in the author's life that throws hght on the subject of his book? Illustrations: Sartor Resartus demands for its understanding a knowledge of Carlyle's early intellectual and moral struggles. David Copperfield is full of autobiog- raphy. Bacon's Essays are a strange commentary on his career. Thomas Hardy's early training as an architect may be traced in many of his stories. W. H. Hudson's youth in South America, and his profession as an ornithologist, help to interpret all his books. 209. Interpretation in the light of literary tendencies. What literary tendencies were dominant when the book was written, to which it owed its origin, or against which it was a protest? Illustrations: Almost any contemporary social prob- lem play may be traced back to Ibsen. Many historical romances of the present time belong to the romantic revival represented by Stevenson. The realists own their indebtedness to Balzac. Contemporary verse owes much to France and to the Far East. 210. Interpretation in the light of the author's aim. If the book is but slightly affected by contemporary problems, the author's life, or prevalent literary fashions, what is the task the author seems to have set before himself? Illustra- tions: George Eliot's Adam Bede may be interpreted as an attempt to show the far-reaching and irrevocable consequences of a moral choice by a moral being; Hardy's novels (almost any of them) as an attempt to show the far-reaching conse- quences of moral accidents in a world of perverse destiny. We may consider Thackeray's Pcndennis and The Newcomes, Dick- ens's Great Expectations, Meredith's The Ordeal of Richard Feverel, as studies of youthful selfishness, blindness, and folly; Blackmore's Lorna Doone, Black's A Princess of Thide, as romances which reflect by means of a love story the conditions of a past age, or a remote and picturesque region or country. 211. Summary of the story merely incidental. In the course 296 FRESHMAN RHETORIC of an interpretation of a novel, a play, or a narrative poem like Tennyson's Enoch Arden or Masefield's The Dauber, the writer will necessarily sum up in a few sentences the outline of the plot, but he will do this as a means, not as an end. He will use it to show how realistic the author is, by pointing out the homely kind of story of which he has made use; or how pessimistic he is, by instancing two or three of the unnecessary factors in his tragedy. No attempt should be made really to teU the story, to sum up the substance of essays, or to condense the biographical facts of a "life and letters." Experience shows that this is not the way to interest people in reading a book. There is nothing duller than a condensed summary. It has its place in notebooks and other personal memoranda, but not in the ,written or spoken appreciation of literature. The retelling of a story in sufficient detail to reflect something of its vitality and humor or pathos is a totally different thing, which will be studied in Chapter XV. In the present task, which is exposi- tory, no summary of narrative should extend beyond a para- graph. Even in that paragraph it is usually best to avoid the tedious historical present tense, adhering to the never monotonous pasttenseof all good narrative. Playsare sometimes bestsum- marized in the present tense, novels and stories rarely or never. 212. Is the book well written? We come now to the second main question: How well has the author accomplished the task which he attempted? While the student can contribute no answer which will have real worth as criticism, he can and should meet such inquiries as the following: 1. Does the book stick to the point? Is the evident pur- pose of it obscured by a lack of unity? At the end of the book does the reader have a distinct impression of the domi- nant idea or mood for which it stands? 2. Has the book good proportion? Is there any considerable part of it which occupies too much space for the accomplish- ment of the purpose, and the maintenance of interest? THE INTERPRETATION OF LITERATURE 297 3, In the case of narrative, are the descriptions vivid, the conversations natural, and the characters Hfehke? 4. So far as the student is able to compare the book with others by the same author, or with books by his contemporaries, or with similar works of other periods, how does it rank in such a comparison? These are questions to which every intelligent reader can upon reflection make some kind of answer. They do not go very far toward fixing an author's real rank, but they help to form a definite Hnk between questions i and 3 (section 206) : to force us to decide in our own minds why we think a book is worth while. The third step is impossible without the first, and of slight value without the second. When those have been attempted, however imperfectly, we may ask two more questions. 213. Historical significance. What historical importance has such an attempt as this author's, achieved with such a degree of success, in changing the life and thought of his time? Illus- trations: Uncle Tom's Cabin, a great idea crudely executed, had, because of the circumstances of the age, a tremendous effect upon public sentiment. It is thus historically important, though of little significance for literature. Byron's English Bards and Scotch Reviewers, Lowell's Biglow Papers, Poe's The Murders in the Rue Morgue and The Gold Bug, all have historical as well as literary significance. The question is, did the book stop an old abuse, or begin a new type? Did it mark the begin- ning, the climax, or the end of any significant stage in human progress? If so, it has value for students, and may be recom- mended to their attention. For the student is supposed to be a person interested in tracing the beginnings of things. Educa- tion in its higher stages depends very largely upon this interest in origins. Felix qui potuit reriim cognoscere causas. Books which one would never think of bringing before a club of business men, or an audience of working girls, have value for the audience which is pledged to at least four years of intellectual life. 298 FRESHMAN RHETORIC 214. The final question of personal appeal. The other and final question is, What value has this book for us? This is the substitution of judgment for impulse, the forming of a de- liberate estimate, the voicing of thoughtful praise, the appeal of an intelligent sympathy. Does the book make goodness more compelling, and weakness more base? Does it radiate cheer, or teem with fascinating mystery? Do we learn in its pages how to read character, how to penetrate the dullness of the good, and the false brilliancy of evil? Or is it just a good book to transport one out of every day into a world where weariness and satiety are unknown, and the zest of youth is inexhaustible? Here is where we must remember the imaginary reader of the essay. He is to read this book, and we must show cause why he cannot afford to miss it. He is a creature of inertia, prejudice, and a singular blindness to his own best interests. Therefore it is our task to rouse his curiosity, placate his instinctive resentment against those who would improve him, and kindle in him the spark of intellectual ambition. To do that we must study the book, study the causes of our likes and dislikes, and study the reader. Viewed in this light, the interpre- tation of literature becomes tangible even to the beginner. 215. The interpretation of literature to oneself. All that has been said in this chapter applies to the interpretation to another mind of literature already known and valued by one- self. There is another sense in which the interpretation of literature means the reader's own approach to literature, his own apprehension of its meaning and value. A most valuable guide in this field is Professor C. Alphonso Smith's little book entitled What Can Literature Do for Me? It will be evident that there is no time or place in a first course in composition for much study of literature, except in the form of specimens of literary types. College courses in the history of literature take up those principles of interpretation of poetry, drama, and THE INTERPRETATION OF LITERATURE 299 fiction upon which our study of these artistic forms is based. In such courses the appUcation of the questions above suggested is just as appropriate as in forming one's estimate of a familiar book for purposes of composition. Nothing can be more im- portant for a student than to learn to ask instantly of any work of art — a picture, a statue, a building, as well as a novel or a play: What was the artist's design? Why did he choose it? How near did he come to realizing it? It is so that we judge men when we contemplate their lives; so that we estimate the success of a system of government, or an educational method, or a plan for city parks and boulevards, or a mechanical inven- tion, or any other subject of human judgment. What Was He Aiming At? How Near Did He Come To It? How Well Do I Like It? These are the questions, of which the third is most prominent on the lips of the beginner, the first most interesting to the student, and the second most appropriate to the enlightened and generous critic. "Let such teach others who themselves excel, And censure freely who have written well." If culture is an endeavor "to know the best that is known and thought in the world," those who aim to acquire culture will need to ask themselves far more often "What is the best?" and "Why is it the best?" than "Does it (at the present back- ward stage of my development) appeal to me?" It is our business to learn to know the best; the liking will take care of itself. Culture rests on knowledge, not on caprice. We grow by reaching beyond our height. Something tells us there is more higher up, and we climb. This cUmbing is education. 300 FRESHMAN RHETORIC Suggested Assignments Assignment 58. Read Chapter XIII. Select from your reading of the past year a book which you have thoroughly enjoyed, and plan for the writing of an essaj' about it of the sort explained in the chapter. Begin writing the essay. Assignment 59. Finish and copy the book review, and hajid it in. CHAPTER XIV DESCRIPTION 216. Two kinds of description. Description in its widest sense includes any account of the appearance of an object. The term is not so used in rhetoric. A mail-order catalogue de- scribes a cream separator, a newspaper advertisement describes a house for sale, a police circular describes a missing man, by the enumeration of details for a practical purpose. The business men wish to sell the articles described in their advertising matter; the police wish to find the missing bank clerk. Their only aim is clearness, and their method is really exposition. A totally different kind of description, to which the name is ex- clusively applied in rhetoric, is the art of suggesting mental images by the use of words with the purpose of giving pleasure. When the novelist describes a corner grocery where village poHticians congregate, he aims to remind us of country stores where we have watched just such loafers sitting around the stove. He is not selling groceries, or stoves, or politicians; he is writing fiction. By his humor, his reahsm, or it may be his romantic sentiment, he hopes to beguile us into believing that his particular Sam or Jerry is a real person. He helps us to see these people in their favorite haunt, in order that when we meet them again elsewhere we shall instinctively nod ac- quaintance. A professional charity worker describes a family for the confidential records of the bureau in business-like terms of age, sex, occupation, habits, degree of poverty and shiftless- ness, and so forth. The minister, pleading for sympathy with the poor, or the short-story writer, will take the same family and make us realize them in one way or another — like, or dis- 301 302 FRESHMAN RHETORIC like. A florist's catalogue describes spring flowers with delib- erate intent to lure unwary citizens into buying more bulbs than they really need. The poet gives us, without money and without price, the "Daffodils That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty." A street-car expert counts the crowds waiting for a cross- town car in order to test the validity of the public demand for better service. A student of human nature will stand by his side noting how different people in the crowd behave under provocation, some frowning, some joking, some grumbling, some swearing. The written reports of the two observers will differ rather widely. 217. Literary description aims to commtinicate feeling. In every such case the main purpose of the man who has some- thing to sell, something to accomplish, is to communicate facts as clearly and as forcibly as possible. The aim of the writer or the student of nature or human nature is to communicate inter- est, feeling, sympathy, pleasure. Compare a geologist's account of a river gorge with that of an artist; contrast the notebook description of a laboratory experiment in spectrum analysis with a poet 's description of a rainbow. Some of the best nature books like those of John Burroughs and Thoreau combine accurate scientific observation and the art of literary suggestion. The two kinds of descriptive writing, in rare instances, run together; but ordinarily they are widely separated in purpose and method. Expository description has already been practiced in connection with the early chapters, and will continue to be practiced in the student's scientific studies throughout his course. Its prin- ciples arc those of exposition, of which it forms a part. 218. Based on observation, imagination, and sympathy. Literary description, on the other hand, belongs to a totally new kind of writing. It is based not only on observation, as is all DESCRIPTION 303 description, but on imagination and sympathy: imagination, which surrounds the things actually seen with various associa- tions more or less real; and sympathy, which manages to rouse the same associations in other minds by skillful choice of words. It is a form of what psychologists call suggestion: the deliber- ate attempt of A to implant his feeling in B's mind, not always by teUing him of it, but by naming things which start the same train of remmiscence in his mind. If A desires B to see mentally a hilly street in an old river town in the South, with its uneven brick sidewalk, cobble-stone pavement, tumble-down brick warehouses and gray stone blocks, leading down to the deserted wharf, A must make B, who has never been in the South, think of such a street in Albany, or Detroit, or Saint Paul. If B has never been in a river town, the nearest thing to it is a lake town. B's image will be different from A's, but it will be vivid, because it is his own. If A has a story to tell about Alexandria, or Richmond, or Saint Louis, B will follow that story through the streets of his own northern river-port, allowing as best he can for a higher temperature, a darker complexion, and a more tropical accent. If for any reason a man desires his tenderfoot friend to feel the exhilaration of fried bacon and coffee beside a mountain lake after a hard day's paddle, he will partly succeed even if the friend can summon up nothing more like the original than a Sunday-school picnic, or a "hike" with the Boy Scouts. When we want to make people feel that a certain person in our story is depressed at the departure of a friend or a sweetheart, we do not say so. We mention that as the train pulled out around the bend he stood watching a little, turned suddenly, stumbled over a mail sack, jammed his hat down over his eyes, and hur- ried off through the wrong exit to a side street. Nobody can describe a sawmill without making the reader smell sawdust and hear the shrill whine of the big gang saw 304 FRESHMAN RHETORIC ripping up a log. It is not so much a question how that saw- mill looks as how it smells and sounds. The railroad accident will get into the papers in terms of so many cars gone over the bank, and so many persons killed or injured. It goes into a story in a hiss of escaping steam, the glare of lanterns, a strong smell of wet charred wood, and a row of coarse brown blankets with something under them lying beside the track. The reporter is after facts, to make news; the story-teller is after impressions, to help people remember happy things that make them smile, or sad things that make them shudder. If they will but re- member, he can tie his story to theirs so cunningly that it will all seem theirs. 219. The reader's memory supplemented by imagination. Since literary description aims to touch the secret spring that unlocks the doors of memory, it might be supposed that we can describe nothing effectively to readers who have not seen something like it. It happens, however, that other people, like ourselves, have not only memory but imagination.* They can not merely put two and two together, but they can imagine X -\- y. Their x will perhaps be imagined from some a or b, already known to them. The y, though entirely unknown in their experience, is supphed from pictures they have seen, or books they have read, or other substitutes for experience. In this way each mind builds up its own notion of the several details involved in a description read or heard; and in pro- portion as they are specific, vivid, and pictorial, the impression will be strong. When we read of African jungles, or Arctic ice-floes, or Russian steppes, our mental pictures are made up of about seventy-five per cent of travel pictures we have seen, and twenty-five per cent of American thickets, or river ice- jams, or prairies, as the case may be. It is evident, then, that description needs to be adapted to the reader's experience and reading quite as much as exposition, though in a very different way. Exposition aims to reach the point of contact DESCRIPTION 305 with the reader's intellect through his logical sense; description seeks to reach his feeling by emotional suggestion. This is accomplished (i) by selecting a few significant details; (2) by appealing to the mental associations connected with the five senses; and (3) by using words rich in connotation. 220. Selection of significant details. In writing a description we seek to discover what is the dominant impression the scene has left upon our own minds and to convey that to the reader. Often we may leave out everything but that, and still succeed. Approaching a country house from the highway, we are aware of a long double row of Lombardy poplars marking the grass- grown lane that leads past a red barn to a low, rambling white house in a dark hemlock grove. Or, our path is a rocky, sunny wagon track leading past a tumble-down stone wall to an ill-smelling stable yard, with three yellow dogs and a top- buggy. If there is a rusty harvesting machine standing un- covered among the tall burdocks, and thick green moss on the shingle roof of the kitchen, we remember the place by those signs. A street crowd gathered about a fallen horse really means to our mind the fat man, with his hat on the back of his head, who keeps shouting "Unhitch him," and the small boys with ragged trousers who are trying to peep between the legs of an Irish poUceman. Many quiet hours in the woods are suggested to us by the caw of an old crow circling about the top of a half-dead pine tree, and the plashing of unseen water into a rocky pool. In scenes of intense fear we recall chiefly the shape of a jagged rock, or the color of a man's necktie, on which our gaze was riveted by the paralysis of terror. Em- barrassed men study the pattern of the carpet or the wall- paper. A mountain lake stretching away in a narrow blue line between the hills is remembered by the cool breeze that whitened the aspens and rippled the water on the pebbles. A 3o6 FRESHMAN RHETORIC high light amidst shadows strikes the eye, such as the setting sun shining on a cottage window across the darkening river. Bright spots of color, like the red shanty of a railroad switch- man far down the pale green valley, focus the eye and the memory alike. Such things as these the writer seizes upon, because they seized upon him. A crowd is symbolized, both in pictures and m writing, by two or three of its most striking individuals and a lot of hats. A landscape is recalled by its skyline, a building or prominent tree in the middle distance, the waving grass and flowery slopes in the foreground. 221. Things described in terms of persons. A room is not to be catalogued as if one were making an inventory, but its dominant impression is to be registered. Like anything that has to do with people, it is to be humanly interpreted. Has it a big armchair drawn up by a table, with a copy of Life, and a French dictionary? Are there wood ashes on the hearth, dust on the mantel, and smears on the windowpanes? Is the rug of the red and green kind that goes with installment fur- niture and a talking machine? Is there a cat, or a canary? Do we smell onions, or cigarettes, or cabbage? These are the things that really count. For many things are interesting only as they hint at the character of the absent persons. "As well as thou canst, guess at thy neighbors," says the author of Ecclesiasticus. Judged from this standpoint, some rooms are politely dumb; others fairly shout at you. 222. Persons described in terms of characteristic traits. If we are describing a man, it is not significant whether his hair is light or dark brown, but very important if it is red or curly. He may be anywhere between five feet eight and five feet eleven without comment; but if he is five feet four, or six feet two, we must know it. We do not care how he parts his hair, unless in the middle. His necktie may pass if it is anything but bright green or purple. His smile is important; so are his little habitual movements and gestures. Some men have DESCRIPTION 307 a way of kicking things when they are vexed. Others lean over and tap you on the knee or the shoulder when they are very much in earnest. Tricks of speech, mannerisms, dis- tinctive traits, are what we need in describing persons. For this reason it is very difficult to describe commonplace people. The queerer the subject the easier it is to draw a caricature that will pass for a portrait. In every case, whatever the nature of the description, it derives its power from selection. The thing one sees first, or remembers longest, is the thing to choose. 223. Motion in description. Language has this great advan- tage over ordinary pictures, that it can directly represent motion. It does this, not as the moving pictures do, by a rapid succes- sion of impressions, but by using nouns, adjectives, and verbs that represent motion. On this account it is always a great help to vividness in description if motion can he introduced. In a landscape there are drifting clouds, trees swaying in the wind, birds fluttering low or soaring high, water flowing; per- haps a train thundering by in the foreground, or trailing a thin wreath of white smoke along a dark slope far away. Often a road is best described as it is seen by one walking or riding along it, a town or a house as it comes gradually into view, a stranger as he trudges up the front path. Still life, such as a room, or a person observed while not in action, is harder partly because we lack this help to the imagination. A skillful writer will often choose to describe any scene, if possible, at a moment when there is the maximum of motion. A street crowd he will picture as the policeman is trying to dis- perse it. A fire he will draw just as the walls totter and fall. The railway station is sketched when a train is coming in, or going out; the church when the congregation is assembling or leaving; armies on the march, birds on the wing, athletes play- ing the game; the blacksmith at his anvil, the painter at his easel, the farmer at the plow, the hired man with the hoe. 3o8 FRESHMAN RHETORIC We notice a man's features as he talks, his clothes and bearing' as he walks, his hands when he gestures with them. It is always better to say that he shook the floor than that he was heavy. If he drums on the table while he talks, we do not need to be told that he is either nervous or ill-bred. If he yawns at nine o'clock in the morning, we know he is lazy, or has been up late. JMotion tells us many things, and verbs of motion save many words of other sorts. 224. Color-words. Form is not the chief visual impression we get in a rapid survey of any ordinary scene or object. Color is sooner perceived, and longer remembered. It behooves the student of description, therefore, to cultivate a sense of color values, and to fill in the gaps in his color vocabulary. There are many men who in their ordinary speech and writing dis- tinguish by name only the four colors red, yellow, blue, and green with one or two tints, such as pink, one or two shades, such as navy blue, and three or four hues, such as brown and purple. A color vocabulary of more than ten terms is unusual among men, except those who have to deal with colors in connec- tion with science, art, or industry. Women, naturally, are not so deficient either in the discrimination or in the naming of colors, though it is doubtful whether their taste in the selection and combination of colors is superior to that of men. A brief examination of a chart and table of colors in any work of refer- ence will reveal the pitiful poverty of words to which most of us must confess, in the presence of the scores of clearly distin- guishable colors observed throughout nature. Why should we hesitate in describing a sunset or a flower garden to distinguish lavender, and violet, and mauve, from blue and purple? Why should we apply the class name red indifferently to scarlet, car- dinal, crimson, magenta, and maroon? Why use the vague word gray for a dozen pale tints and hues of blue, green, even of pink? There is a happy medium between the elaborate terminology DESCRIPTION 309 of the physicist, the nonsensical nicknames of the dry-goods stores, and the practically achromatic speech of ordinary men. Half the charm of mountain scenery in summer lies in the color scale of its greens, from the pale young grain in the valley to the deep shadows of the firs. The desert has its bewildering browns, the sea its innumerable blues. Clearly, we cannot name or suggest them all in words, but we may at least recognize that they exist, and try to convey some hint of their harmonies in our descriptions. There is a vast difference between a tur- quoise and a sapphire sky, between an emerald and a violet sea. A definite study of the charts of dealers in artists' colors, or even of paper makers and paint manufacturers, will open a new field of sense cultivation to many whose early education in this matter has been neglected. 225. Taste and touch in description. Description has the advantage over pictures that it can immediately suggest impres- sions of four other senses besides the sense of sight. The senses of taste and touch have their place in literary descrip- tion, though it is rather limited. Words like luscious and crisp and mellow and juicy awaken responsive sensations of a pleas- ing sort: they "make our mouths water," which is proper enough in describing a dinner. Dickens is famous for his frank delight in verbal refreshments, both solid and liquid. Charles Lamb, with his roast pig, almost transforms pork into poetry. However, eating does not figure very largely in literature, for the obvious reason that most men would rather eat than read; and if the author becomes too realistic, the reader is more than likely to lay down the book and go out to lunch. The sense of touch gives us for description many of our best adjectives, such as silky, velvety, downy, clammy, chill, prickly, springy, flinty, sticky, greasy, and a dozen others, mostly disagreeable. But taste and touch are trivial in literature as compared with sound and smell. 226. Sounds in description. Words of sound are rich in con- 3IO FRESHMAN RHETORIC notation. Whether nouns or adjectives or verbs, they nearly al- ways produce the full effect; they have high relative efficiency. A boom or a crash loses little by translation into speech — far less than sight-words or motion-words, for the evident reason that language itself is sound. The pattering rain and the snickering boy are heard by the imagination of all. When a dog yelps, or a baby squalls, in the pages of fiction, we know just how it sounded, though we may not be able to picture either dog or baby. If the dog whined, or the baby sqtteaked, it would be a totally different story. Our language is full of sound-words, largely imitative, that we use in conversation but commonly neglect in writing. Kipling has helped to bring them back into print. Any writer who aims at vigor and originality of expression should put into his descri{)tions those short, homely words that echo all sounds from a dynamite blast to the piping of a penny whistle. Machinery has its whir, its rattle, or hum, or click, or clank, or whatever it may he. Water tinkles, or splashes, or drips. Fire crackles, or sputters, or hisses, or roars. Winds whistle, or howl, or sigh. Trumpets blare. Drums may be beaten, or tapped, or thumped, or banged, they may rattle, or roll, or boom. Bells jingle, or tinkle, or clang; they will ring a peal, or a chime, or a toll, or a knell. Men may walk with a shuffle, or a tramp, or a stamp. Notice that in all these sound-words there is present the idea of motion also, for sound is motion become audible. The sound-words and the motion- words cannot be separated. Both should abound in good descriptive writing. 227. The magical smell- words. The odors are unique. Smell-words have not a trace of the imitative element found in sound and motion-words. Neither do they directly, or chiefly, suggest sense-impressions as such to the mind, like the taste- and touch-words. Their value is their powerful control over association. Whatever may be the reason, it is certain from experience that real odors have a strange power to revive for- DESCRIPTION 311 gotten impressions, a stronger power than sights or sounds. The words that stand for odors have this power in much dimin- ished degree, yet are an important resource in description. These words are almost entirely nouns, the names of the objects from which the odors arise. No one can make a vivid picture of docks and wharves who leaves out the smell of tar, and rope, and other naval stores. Decaying seaweed and shells on the beach; the fragrance of balsams in the woods; the soft-coal smoke and heavy oils in the railroad station; weeds and fresh-cut grass in the garden; damp mold in the old cellar; warm hemlock lumber under the sunny roof of the attic; soft asphalt in city streets in August; spruce-boughs and burning tapers at Christ- mas; boxwood in the cemetery; sandalwood in the old trunk; white roses at funerals; pink roses at weddings; stale Enghsh violets at the matinee; formalin in the doctor's office, ether in the operating room; hydrogen sulphide along the low, muddy banks of tidal rivers ; gasoline everywhere — where shall we stop? The world is so full of a number of smells ! It is true that many of them are bad, and those by common consent are barred from ordinary speech and writing. Yet, many a squeamish nose, that detests the fish market or the leather district, is nevertheless forced by a whiif of whitefish or calf- skins to remember vanished joys and benefits forgot. Coft'ee- roasting at four o'clock in the afternoon in the wholesale grocery district is like a letter from home. The perfume of lilacs intoxicates, the odor of lilies is full of dreams, and the smell of a wood fire brings content. By all means, then, let descrip- tion follow the scent of things. Only so can it rouse the deepest and most vital trains of memory in the minds of men, and bring them to the keenest sympathy with the writer's thought. 228. Avoid words of incongruous connotation. The attempt to suggest definite sense- impressions in descriptive writing necessarily leads to a deliberate search for vivid words. The fittest word is the word that not only denotes the desired idea, 312 FRESHMAN RHETORIC but connotes or suggests more than it actually conveys. It is never an incongruous word, accurate in meaning, but out of tune in feeling. In a tragic scene describing the groping of a blind man for the way out of a burning house, or the flight of an imprisoned hero from the perils which have threatened him, we should never say that he "bumped his shins on a rocking- chair." Very Ukely he did, but we must not mention it. Bump and shins and rocking-chair are good words for comedy; in tragedy they are fatal. We may say with impunity that he "dashed himself wildly against the panels of a heavy door," but he must not "stub his toe on a coal hod." On the other hand, in everyday life we do not find ladies "passing their hands over their fevered brows," or "swooning," or "weeping." They may, if they feel so inclined, rub their aching foreheads, or faint, or cry. To say that a girl has plump cheeks is quite proper — if she has; but we should not say that of a heroine on first acquaintance. It seems incon- gruous with the cloud of mystery and sentiment that is supposed to envelop new heroines. The moment we hear plump, we begin to think that her name ought to be Dolly, or Sally, and that she probably has dimples. Reverence and poetic senti- ment vanish at the sound of plump. In fact, there is no word ending in -ump that is a whit more poetic than baked beans. There are other words that nothing can spoil or debase; not poetic words in themselves, but words that are immune from commonness. Rich in imaginative connotations are such nouns as dawn and twilight, valley and meadow, sea and sky, river and stream; such adjectives as graceful, glad, gleaming, deli- cate, dim, frank, kindly, hearty, friendly, generous; in other words, our mental associations with such words are all pleas- ant, because the things they stand for are pleasant. Very different is the connotation of such adjectives as flashy, dull, jolly, frisky, blunt, lank, thin. It is one thing to be slender, and quite another to be lank; the difference is not in one's DESCRIPTION 313 diameter but in one's disposition. To call a person playful is different from saying that he is frolicsome, and still farther from accusing him of being frisky. A hearty man is not nec- essarily jolly. Differences in synonyms from the point of view of their denotation have already been considered in Chapter XII; differences in connotation have peculiar importance in descrip- tion. Verbs show these differences as well as nouns and adjec- tives. There are verbs with a connotation impossible for serious writing, such as tumble, scrape, grin, scare, bungle, hop, scrub, sneeze. Not in all cases is it the idea that is in- congruous, as in grin and hop and sneeze. To fall may be a very serious thing, but to tumble cannot be taken seriously. It is not rude to point out that a person has erred, or even failed, in a piece of work, but we may not charge him with bungling it, unless we wish to show our contempt for his clum- siness. In writing descriptions, then, we must take especial pains to avoid words of incongruous connotation. 229. Seek words of appropriate connotation. To avoid incongruous words is not enough. An absence of jarring notes does not make music. Description must seek words that have positive connotation of the right sort. In just one particular kind of public ceremonial it will be proper to speak of pomp; and in describing that kind the word has peculiar value. Trouble brings into some faces sorrow, into others gloom, into others grief, or anguish. Each word has a double worth, in what it denotes and what it suggests by association. Light shining across water may be gleaming, or glittering, or shim- mering, or quivering. Tennyson tells us that "The long light shakes across the lakes." Adjectives like gentle and tender are choice words, to be re- served for the rare occasions when they are inevitable. Many words rich in connotation have been spoiled by slang, such 314 FRESHMAN RHETORIC as weird. A scholar hears in weird the echo of the old Norse fatahsm, the dreadful chant of the three gray Norns; but no one else hears anything of the kind. Its connotation has been changed; it has become trivial. Clever is a word whose con- notation changes rapidly from time to time. A clever man may be credited with genius, or charged with superficiality and a suspicion of dupUcity, according to the time and place of the speaker. Writers and speakers who seek force may learn in description, as in no other species of composition, the secret of aptness in words. This is in fact the chief reason for assigning practice in this kind of writing to an entire class. Most college men will never undertake literary description in the making of stories, but all of them will need in daily speech the sense for crispness and vigor in words which is here most clearly illustrated. A large man looms into view: is he big, brawny, stout, sturdy, burly, or (in collocjuial speech) "husky"? There is only one of these epithets that really fits. Is he dressed roughly, or rudely, or carelessly, or poorly, or shabbily? Does he limp, or shujjle, or slouch, or strut, or hobble, or sneak, around the corner? Has he a malignant glare, or a shifty smile, or a sly look, or an ugly leer? In any case, we had better look out for the fellow; but if he is burly, and slouches, and leers, it is best to send for the police. The sky that is gray tells us little or nothing about the weather more than the "partly cloudy" of the forecaster; but if it is lowering, or threatening, or inky, or angry, there is no sense in going out without an umbrella. Flowers may be gay, or brilliant, or dainty, or gorgeous, or gaudy, but only a few flowers can be gorgeous, and none can be gaudy except in false color combination with others. For gaudy, originally meaning joyous, has by one of the strange degenerative processes in word-history come to signify showy, flashy. 230. A defense of deliberate search for words in description. DESCRIPTION 315 Most of us feel these shades of meaning in words when we read them in books. In speaking, few find the right word on the tongue at the right time. As has been pointed out in the chapter on words, the search for the right word comes naturally not in speech but in writing; and not in the writing of a first draft, but in revision or rewriting. In the revision of a written description the student should strike out every vague word, every conventional epithet; every verb of motion that does not picture the motion, every noun that belongs to a class rather than an individual. These should be replaced by words chosen for their specific fitness in denotation and connotation, together with due regard for euphony and rhythm. Descriptive writing is more deliberate, more self-conscious, than many other kinds. It should not be artificial, but artistic. Spontaneity may give it charm, but labor gives it power. 231. Words few but choice. Description is a more con- densed kind of writing than exposition. Economy of words is supremely important in producing unity of impression. There is a kind of description, like Ruskin's, which gains a cumulative power and beauty from the multiplication of details; but the beginner can never succeed in that sort. He must rather emu- late the pregnant brevity of Kipling. A descriptive theme may well be sketched out at first in some detail, in order to give oppor- tunity for radical pruning. A sentence may often be compressed to a phrase, a phrase to a word, and perhaps half the words left out altogether. Length is not the test of merit. Literature thrives on omissions. The stroke that cancels is often the stroke of genius. Edmund Waller sagely remarks, "Poets lose half the praise they should have got, Could it be known what they discreetly blot." Whereas an expository theme of less than five or six hundred words is likely to be unsatisfactory, a descriptive theme will seldom exceed two or three hundred, The reason is obvious: 31 6 FRESHMAN RHETORIC exposition unfolds an idea, description makes a picture. Whether it be a snapshot or a time exposure, it is still brief. If it be a time exposure, the lens may be stopped down to a narrow aper- ture in order to insure concentration. The snapshot must have the largest stop and a strong light. 232. Descriptive writing usually implies a story. Class prac- tice in descriptive writing is intended to develop two quite dis- tinct powers: the power to choose vivid, striking words in any- kind of writing, and the power to appreciate good description in any kind of reading. A description is emphatically a means, not an end. Of course this is true, in a sense, of all writing, but it is true of description in the further sense that a descrip- tion is seldom complete in itself, as an exposition or argument may be. This incompleteness does not take away from the in- terest of descriptive writing, but adds to it. The description is part of a story. Pictures of landscape are to be thought of always as the possible setting of a story; descriptions of per- sons may be considered as incidental to stories in which those persons are actors; descriptions of natural objects of any kind are best regarded as belonging in some way to imaginative or historical narrative. No matter how humble or commonplace the subject, it has suggestions for a plot of some kind. These suggestions, without being defined or worked out at this time, give atmosphere to the shortest descriptive paragraph. There is, of course, a kind of description found in books of travel and in letters which has no narrative implications; but no one writes good travel descriptions who does not think of the things he sees in terms of people, of human life, of possible events. Description, in fact, may be regarded as only a part of narration. For the sake of convenience we study and prac- tice its principles before we take up the other branches of nar- ration, such as plot and dialogue. Many writers gain skill and felicity in description which serv^e them well in all kinds of composition, though for lack of inventive power they may never DESCRIPTION 317 succeed in complete narration. They also acquire by such prac- tice a new understanding of the descriptive art of great noveUsts and poets, which adds to their enjoyment of literature. 233. Exercises in description. Exercises in description will consist of two or three hundred words each, usually one or two paragraphs only, containing a pen-picture of some single sub- ject. Every theme is to be written first in a rough draft and then revised for (i) condensed expression; (2) dominant impres- sion; (3) words conveying vivid ideas not only of form but of color, motion, sound, and, if appropriate, odors as well; (4) words of suitable and harmonious connotation. It is well to test the revised version for euphony by reading it aloud before copying. A wide range of choice in subjects is desirable, those in the following list being only suggestive. There must be no confu- sion, however, of literary description with the mere enumeration of details proper to exposition. A building or a city is not described, in the sense here intended, by giving figures of its size and various physical details, in the style of a catalogue or guidebook. Nothing will be appropriate to which the term "picture" cannot justly be applied. "Can I imagine how the thing looks?" is the test of a description. If it is void of images, it is not description at all. Evidently, at this stage, no one should try to describe anything he has not seen. The invention of descriptions, built up out of separate bits of detached experiences, is more difi&cult, and will be undertaken under the head of narrative writing. Definiteness should be given to topics chosen from the fol- lowing Ust by inserting proper names, street names, notes of locality, and the like. Some particular scene or figure should be constantly before the writer's mind, in order that some real scene or figure similar to it in some way shall be suggested to the mind of the reader. 3i8 FRESHMAN RHETORIC Subjects for Description The following phrases are not intended as titles. The writer should make his own title to fit his theme. 1. A village railroad station at train time. 2. A city railroad station at nine o'clock in the evening. 3. Saturday afternoon on the river. 4. The old mill. 5. A blacksmith shop. 6. An April Sunday at the park. 7. The finish of the boat race. 8. Five minutes before six in a department store. 9. A fake auction sale. 10. The "barkers" at the county fair 1 1 . The collision. 12. Violet-hunting in May. 13. The old trail. 14. The old camp ground. 15. Loafing on the campus. 16. Signs of spring. 17. Familiar characters in the reading room. 18. The cheerful conductor. 19. My favorite policeman. 20. Around the camp fire. 21. Class room diversions 22. A lone pine tree. 23. The place to go for ferns. 24. An old residence street or square abandoned to trade. 25. The back-porch side of city life. 26. The half-hour after lunch. 27. The biggest snowstorm. 28. The bend in the river. 29. The finest place on the lake. 30. A long carry in the woods. 31. Birds in winter. 32. A school playground. 33. Milking time. 34. Making camp in a storm. 35. The parade. 36. Watching the baseball returns. 37. Before the game. DESCRIPTION 319 38. In the court room. 39. The hardest hole on the links. 40. Shooting the rapids. 41. The theater car. 42. The old bookstore. 43. Market day. 44. The quiet hour in the library. 45. Sunset in the mountains. 46. Dress parade at the post. 47. The old cobbler's shop. 48. The commuter's accommodation train. 49. In the engine-room. 50. The saw mill. 51. Queer characters in the orchestra. 52. A flirt. 53. The innocent bystander. 54. The deserted house. 55. A spring in the woods. 56. Going f(jr the mail. 57. An employment agency. 58. The summit view. 59. The quarry. 60. On the bridge. 61. The city lights at night. 62. The owl car. 63. A country hotel. 64. The rescue mission meeting. 65. Closing the forms in a newspaper office. 66. The flower show. 67. At the fireside. 68. Fisherman's rest. 69. The busiest comer. 70. An old plantation. 71. The battleground. 72. The mysterious hermit. 73. Mrs. Jones getting the six children ready for school. 74. The falls. 75. A sweatshop. 76. A strikers' mass-meeting. 77. The early train. 78. After the accident. 320 FRESHMAN RHETORIC 79. A student's room as indicating character. 80. Easter Sunday in the cemetery. 81. The cabin in the woods. 82. Taking on the pilot. 83. The wireless cabin on the steamer. 84. Waiting for the sporting extra. 85. Commencement day. 86. The laziest man. 87. A fresh breeze on the bay. 88. The happy butcher. 89. The last dance. 90. At the polls. 91. The children's ward in the hospital. 92. A poet in low life. 93. Isaac, the Socialist tailor. 94. Showing the photograph album. 95. At the end of the pier. 96. A despondent cook. 97. Noon hour at the factory. 98. The truant. 99. A picture exhibition. 100. The haughty waitress. Suggested Assignments Assignment 60. Read sections 216-219, ^.nd write out a list of ten sub- jects for description which could be treated in either of the two ways (exposi- tory and literary description). Assignment 61. Read section 220, and write a description of a landscape or outdoor scene of some kind, mentioning only significant details. In this and the following assignments the list in section 233 will prove suggestive. Assignment 62. Read section 221, and write a description of a living room, study, office, or bedroom, with special reference to features in the room which reflect the personality of its usual occupant, or occupants. Assignment 6T). Read section 222, and write a description of a person. Bear in mind that the kind of description desired is tlie kind that might appear near the beginning of a story or novel, at the first entrance of an important character. Assignment 64. Read sections 223-227. Look up in a novel, a short story, or a book of travel, a good description containing motion, sound, color. Bring the book to class, prepared to read effective passages. i DESCRIPTION 321 Assignment 65. Write a description of a landscape introducing motion, sound, and color. Assignment 66. Read sections 228-230, and write a description of any subject with special attention to the choice of precisely the right words, especially adjectives and verbs. Assignment 67. Read section 231. Write a description of two hundred words or more, making it as vivid as you can. Then condense it into two or three sentences by canceling all but the indispensable words that make up the most characteristic features of the image. Hand in the original version showing the cancellations; or, if copied, hand in the original with the copy. Assignment 68. Read section 232, and write a description which strongly suggests the opening scene of a possible story. It may be either an exterior or an interior, and may introduce one or more persons, present from the beginning or entering after the background has been established. CHAPTER XV THE SHORT STORY 234. Short stories the most popular form of literature. All the world loves a story. "Once upon a time" is the magic phrase that draws a group together about any ghb spinner of yarns. Be his tale as old as the pyramids, and as lude as a Druid circle, there will be some to Hsten and admire. The children he bewitches like the Pied Piper of Hamelin, and the old men he can set to dreaming Uke the Princess Scheherazade. A good story is the opener of many doors. It introduces a speaker, illuminates discourse, beguiles weariness, banishes gloom, brightens the night, and adorns the day. A peculiar kindliness and gratitude reward the teller of tales. For what poet, or what maker of plays, have we the warm spot in our hearts that we reserve for Poe, and Stevenson, and Kipling, and O. Henry? It is a sufficient proof of the power which fiction holds over us all that we make our way cheerfully through the reams of worthless magazine stories printed every month, content if in vast heaps of rubbish we find a single gem. No one will do this with poetry or drama. We follow the lure of the story because we are hungry for it. After every disappointment we sigh — and begin another. 235. Story-telling gives training in choice of words. It is no part of the purpose of a freshman course in composition to train fiction writers for the press, or even to begin such training. There may be one in a class who has the talent for that, and he will find his way to it sooner or later. But every student can learn how to tell a story without bungling and barrenness. Every writer can practice the art of beginnings, the mastery of 322 THE SHORT STORY 323 climax, the secret of stopping when he has got through. Just as the practice of Uterary description gives training in the selection of apt words, so the study of fictitious narration develops the power of securing interest by the imaginative selection and arrangement of ideas for suspense and climax. Such a degree of invention as is called for will be found to exist, although latent, in almost every mind. 236. Characteristics of good oral story-telling. Story-telling from memory is a very different thing from story-writing, but the two have various points in common. In the oral repro- duction of stories previously read, or heard, an ordinary person is so intent on recalling the sequence of events that he pays little attention to the manner of presentation. When we hsten to good story-tellers, however, we find that they obey many of the laws of original narrative. Some' of these laws are as follows : (i) In a story we must have descriptions, pictures of places and persons and things — not mere names and labels. (2) Indirect discourse is varied by much directly quoted dialogue. The exact phraseology of this is not repeated by rote from memory, but invented on the spur of the moment. (3) A good story-teller seldom uses the historical present tense. This becomes wearisome in a very few sentences, whereas narration in the past tense has no monotony. The only purpose for which the historical present is sometimes permissible is in a very condensed summary of a story or play, introduced into a criticism. When the story is the main or the only thing, it should always be told in the past tense. (4) The story-teller, like the story-writer, takes care to man- age his narrative so that the adding of one event to another keeps up suspense, increasing toward a climax. He avoids spoiling that climax by giving away his story too soon. (5) Even more than in written fiction, the story-teller must 324 FRESHMAN RHETORIC seek to avoid the danger of a decline in interest between the climax and the conclusion. This he does by swift and telling sentences that leave no time for weariness, and a final sentence that comes to a full close with a strong word and a fitting idea. (6) A skillful story-teller, though remembering none of the precise wording of the original, varies the beginnings of his sentences, chooses instinctively specific rather than general words, and in other ways obeys the laws on which interest de- pends. He avoids "and then" as a link between sentences, and "so" as a link between clauses, as marks of a crude and childish narrative style. Instead he often begins his sentences with some adverbial phrase of time or place. While there are some great short stories that are composed almost entirely of pure narration, the typical modern story is a series of pictures tied together with dialogue. That is, we are seeing or hearing most of the time: seeing how things looked, and hearing what people said. This is the sort of story most desirable for practice, whether in oral story-telling or in the composition of original written narratives. 237. The study of the short story. Before undertaking any experiments of our own in the field of fiction, it is essential to read several good stories by well known writers. All our reading of fiction in the past has been primarily for entertain- ment; we were intent solely on following the intricacies of the plot, or enjoying the humor of the dialogue. Seldom did we pay any attention to the way in which the material was put together — to the skill shown in the opening, the adroit management of transitions, the treatment of dialogue, the use of contrast and of climax. These are some of the things to be looked for now. In reading, during the next few days, a number of short stories from lists suggested by the instructor, such questions as the following should be kept in mind: THE SHORT STORY 325 (i) How does the story begin — with direct narration, with description of places or persons, with dialogue? (2) How does the author convey to us that part of the total action of the plot which has already taken place before the story opens — the so-called "antecedent action"? (3) How much time does the story itself (not including the antecedent action) cover? (4) Why did the author begin the story where he did — why not farther back, or farther ahead? (5) How does he bridge over the gaps or intervals of time which separate the several incidents actually narrated? Is the effect of these transitions smooth or abrupt? (6) How early in the story can the reader foresee the outcome? How far, and in what manner, is suspense maintained? (7) What preliminary crisis, or crises, can you discover before the main crisis? (8) What is the nature of the conflict or struggle on which the plot turns — - for example, is it between man and man, between an individual and society, between man and nature, between conflicting motives in the mind of the principal character? (9) How many important characters are there in the story? How many subordinate characters? Could the story be told with a smaller number of characters? (10) Are there two characters placed in evident and striking contrast with each other? (11) How are traits of character brought out? Chiefly by acts, chiefly by dialogue, or chiefly by direct description? (12) How is the progress of the action made clear — chiefly by direct narrative, chiefly by dialogue, or chiefly by description of successive scenes? (13) Who is the supposed narrator of the story? Is he one of the characters in the story, or an outside observer who tells the story on some later occasion? If the story is told — as most stories are — from the stand- point of an omniscient anonymous narrator, consider whether it would have been more effective if told by some one of the characters. (14) How far does the interest of the story depend upon its setting? How much of the description and the dialogue contributes chiefly to the atmosphere or background, rather than to the plot? Is "local color" promi- nent in the descriptions, or dialect in the dialogue? How would the story 326 FRESHMAN RHETORIC be affected if a similar situation were transferred to some quite different place and time? (15) How does the author manage the difficult passage between the main crisis and the end of the story? In order to answer such questions intelligently it is necessary to read a story at least twice — the first time in order to get the general effect and to enjoy it as a whole; the second time in order to observe details. After reading several short stories, some practice in oral reproduction of stories before the class may be interesting and valuable, in case time permits and circumstances are favor- able. For such practice, the suggestions in section 236 should be followed in so far as they may be applicable. 238. "Writing original stories. Considered as an exercise in the choice of words for interest, a limited amount of fiction writing may be useful for all students of composition. It is not to be expected, however, that the majority of a class will be capable of inventing, or even of adapting, plots. An advanced elective course is the place for study of plot construction. There are various objections to asking or allowing students to borrow ideas from stories they have read, to be embodied with changes of name and details in essays purporting to be original. Such a principle, once admitted, is apt to lead to mere paraphrasing, which if concealed, amounts to dishonest plagiarism, and if ad- mitted makes the work nearly worthless. There should be no confusion in regard to the purpose of this kind of work, which is merely to develop vigor of expression in description and dia- logue. Therefore each student may be asked to choose a plot from the following list, or others suggested by the instructor, and write a story of two thousand to three thousand words; subject to the exception that members of the class presenting for approval a different plot, not borrowed from a published work, nor previously used by them, may write upon that instead. The following situations have no claim to originality or other THE SHORT STORY 327 merit, except that the choice from them will relieve the student of the perplexing question what to write about. List of Plots for Stories (It is in such brief summaries as these that the historical present tense is appropriate; not in the complete stories.) 1 . Of two men seeking the favor of a lady, one tries to win an advantage over the other by teihng the lady of his rival's stinginess. It develops later that the rival is saving every penny for some honorable purpose — to pay off his father's debts, or make possible a surgical operation for a mother or sister, or start a cripple in business. 2. A yoimg engineer sent out to find a practicable site for an irrigation reservoir in the West discovers a rock-walled valley which is the only possible place for the purpose. In a cabin in the valley lives an old couple with a daughter. The daughter learns of his errand, and begs him not to recom- mend that site, for her aged parents will be heartl^roken if forced to abandon their lifelong home, and are too old to begin hfe anew elsewhere. Their older children are buried in the valley. 3. A student who has i>iled up debts, of which his family knows nothing, is offered a chance to make a hundred dollars by reveaUng the signals or trick plays of the home team to a spy sent by a dishonest coach from another college. 4. A college girl, returning home for Christmas after her first term, fuU of selfish plans, finds her widowed mother so worn out and lonely, her wage- earning sister so tired out, that she faces the problem of giving up her college career. 5. An Italian laborer, who has Just saved up enough money to send for his wife and children to come to him from Sicily, is fatally injured by an accident. 6. A young minister,face to face for the first time with the abuses of modem industry in a mill to\vn or a steel city, begins to doubt whether religion can reach these people until some measure of justice is brought into the poUcy of the employers. He hesitates between leaving the ministry for social work and endangering his position by preaching against the people who pay most of his salary. 7. A farmer's son tries to induce his father to adopt modem methods of farming, and hints that only on one condition can he stay on the farm. All his brothers have gone to the city, and the old man is depending on him to keep up the old homestead. The father's conservatism is too strong, they quarrel, and the son leaves home, never to return, 328 FRESHMAN RHETORIC 8. A boaster has built up a tissue of exaggerations about the things he has seen and the people he has met in another city. Travehng with friends, he is unexpectedly compelled to stay for some hours in that city. One by one his lies find him out, and he has to put up the price of a dinner for the party. 9. A lady who for years has played the part of a chronic invalid imable to walk is made so angry, or so frightened, by some domestic occurrence, that she runs down stairs, and nearly knocks over the doctor. 10. A library assistant learns gradually through the inquiries of a young factory worker that he is ambitious for an education. She encourages him to study and to save his earnings for a college course. When he has got together several hundred dollars, it is swept away by the rascality of a private banker. 11. A Greek bootblack, practically a slave under the padrone system, through the interest of a college man begins to read the history of his race. Filled with lofty ambitions, he escapes from his shop and buys steerage pas- sage to Greece to fight the Turks in Asia Minor. He never reaches Greece — dies of typhoid in a New York hospital, or is drowned while trying to rescue a child, or is stabbed in a quarrel on shipboard. 12. An amateur musician, man or woman, the petted and praised favorite of a village, reaches the summit of ambition by completing plans for a year of study in Boston with a famous teacher. After a brief hearing the teacher declines to accept the pupil on any terms, as utterly lacking in talent. The ending may be comic or tragic; the disappointed amateur may become a successful tobacco salesman or a manicurist, or may take to drink. 13. Visiting for the first time bis dead father's early home, a young man meets accidentally a lady whom his fatlier bad unsuccessfully courted in youth. The lady has a daughter. The natural consequences ensue. 14. A freshman is making a fool of himself in all the ways a freshman can. His father, who never went to college, and is trying to make something of the boy, seems harsh and unreasonable. They have violent scenes. The father is a man who cannot express his tragic disappointment in any other way than by sarcasm and bitterness. An old physician, thinking of the boy's dead mother, and her unfulfilled hopes, has a talk with the fresh- man and opens his eyes. 15. Repeated disappearances of rare old books from a librar>^ lead to a mystery, since they do not turn up in the second-hand stores. By some clever detective work a student runs the culprit to his lair, an attic room in a business block, lined with first editions and curiosities from the museums. The thief is a cunning, half-crazy old scholar, once a professor, discharged for intemperance. THE SHORT STORY 329 16. Told by his doctor that he has quick consumption, with less than a year to live, a young college man sets out to live his year as usefully as pos- sible. He heals dissensions, inspires idlers to work, plans great things for his fraternity, reads Stevenson, tries to write a novel or play of college life, and coughs himself to death while watching a big game from his window op- posite the campus. 17. Ringing by mistake the wrong doorbell in a row of houses, a man finds himself among strangers, who seem to be expecting him. He discovers that he is a long-lost cousin of the charming girl in pink, learns his name to be Fred Wilkins of Fredonia, and tries to act the part. The game lasts nearly two hours, during which time he makes rapid progress. When the crash comes (arrival of the real Fred on a delayed train) his explanation is so ingenious that he is invited to call the next evening. 18. A woman learns by accident a story to the discredit of her worst enemy. Her first impulse is, of course, to communicate it to the members of the sewing-circle, gathered to sew for the heathen. However, it happens to be Christmas week, and the good will of the season works upon her feeUngs to such an extent that when some one else repeats the story she indignantly denies it. Becoming the champion of her enemy, she repudiates the charge that the other woman could be guilty of a really mean act. It turns out that the story was false, and the two are reconciled. (Christmas carols, holly, and bells at the end.) 19. As the quickest way of curing their daughter's ambitions for the stage, two wise parents allow her to attempt a leading part in a large amateur charity show in a local theater. She fails completely at rehearsals, and instead of being crushed, strangely enough, she sees the joke (or pretends to). She is so good-natured about it that the director gives her a chance with an ornamental silent part at the performance. Everybody admires her nerve and she has more bouquets than the star. 20. A bachelor sign painter, who earns his Hving on the billboards, has secret aspirations for high art. Nobody will buy his real pictures, but he earns good wages by his specialty, which is painting UfeUke brown cigars, twelve feet long, with a curly wreath of filmy gray smoke. His easel pictures in the loft of the barn are mostly snow pieces, with the powdered mica effect. He takes out his grudge against the pubUc and his love for art by lending money to the impecunious real artists in town, giving them dinners at Casey's table d'hote, and paying the hospital bills of a consumptive German wood carver. All the painters admire his generosity, borrow money from him on pay day, and laugh at his sparkling snow banks. One day he sprains his wrist by a fall, and the young Bohemians take turns on the scaffold painting his brown cigars for him till he gets well. 330 FRESHMAN RHETORIC 239. A climax essential. These situations are merely sugges- tive, and may be altered as desired. The purpose of the assignment being not originality but practice, it matters very little what plot one selects, provided it has interest for the writer. There must be one leading character; one conflict of motive with circumstances, or of one motive with another; one climax or culminating event. These are the indispensable factors in the simplest story. A mere tale of adventure, in which character and motive are insignificant and events are everything, has its place, but not in this chapter. What- ever the plot, a man or a woman must somehow be put into a situation that yields either a comic or a tragic dilemma, an alternative, a choice, which will issue either in fun or in pathos. Naturally, the amusing story is better practice than the serious or pathetic, and also harder for most writers. Either will give ample opportunity to practice the principles of interest. 240. Beginnings. Of all the possible ways of beginning a story the beginner would do well to choose one of the three most conventional. These are (i) the description of the scene on which the story opens, (2) the description of a character, and (3) dialogue. The third is hackneyed, but it has the merit of getting directly into the heart of the story. It is seldom desirable to begin with a narrative summary of the events preceding the beginning of the plot. These should be brought in later by implication or dialogue. An unpracticed writer is likely in getting under way to write several pages that must be cut out in revision. A good rule is to choose for the begin- ning of the story a time not more than a few days or weeks before the crisis. There are many exceptions to this, stories covering several months, even years, but beginners would better avoid them. Since the story must leave a single dominant impression, a strict limitation of time is necessary for those who are not skilled in maintaining unity. 241. Omit unnecessary details. According to the principle THE SHORT STORY 33^ above laid down, the tenth story in the list may be begun at the point where the ambitious factory worker has come to tell the librarian that he has saved almost enough to go to college. The previous history is brought out by way of retrospect or dialogue. At his next visit he reports the catastrophe. The sixteenth story would not cover directly the whole of the hero's last year, but only a few weeks at the end of it. The changes he has brought about among his friends are shown by descrip- tion and dialogue. If a man is sliding down hill, the story- writer need not begin at the top of the hill; he may show the sUder more than halfway down, and follow him till he strikes bottom. A climber need not be traced all the way up the trail. If we sight him at the last half-mile, and notice how he looks and acts, we can imagine what has gone before. What we want is to see him at the summit. Fiction seeks culminations. The crest of the wave; the critical moment of a big strike; the hour of moral overstrain; sudden disillusion; the magical dawn of hope; the swift oncoming of despair; triumph and defeat; moral birth, and death, and resurrection — these are the themes of the short story. The humorous story, of course, piles up absurdities until life is one broad grin. If the student will test his climax by considering whether it would make a good scene on the stage, he will at least avoid tameness. 242. Unity in the narrative paragraph. There are several matters of form in which fiction differs widely from other kinds of composition. The most important of these is the paragraph. Owing to the fact that for the convenience of the reader all speeches or remarks in dialogue are separately paragraphed, stories have many short paragraphs. Not only is this true in passages containing dialogue, but in description and direct narrative as well. A descriptive paragraph, containing all the essential details about a scene or a person, may be very brief. Narration of events which follow one another in swift successiou 332 FRESHMAN RHETORIC may well be put into paragraphs of only three or four sentences each. Movement is the essential in narration. The unity of the paragraph is not less important than in exposition, but it is differently secured. In exposition we take a topic sentence and develop it into a paragraph, the purpose of which is to make it clear and to make it strong. In narration we take a certain event or a stage in a process, and try to make it stand out. Here too we seek to make it clear and strong, but to the imagination rather than to the understanding. A few vigorous strokes often secure this end better than the multipHcation of details; hence the tendency to shorter paragraphs. 243. Coherence in narration implicit rather than explicit. Not only is unity differently attained, but coherence as well. E.xpository writing abounds in connectives. Words and phrases of reference tie the sentences together. Reminder and anticipa- tion are frequent. We recapitulate the past, and announce the future; tell what has been covered, and promise what is to be revealed. Narration has coherence of events and motives, rather than of style; of deeds, rather than of words. It is true that a marked abruptness or jerkiness, originally imitated from Kipling, has become a vice among certain able writers at present; but even the best masters of the short story before Kip- Hng have less explicit coherence of style than is demanded in exposition. Fiction aims usually to be objective, to show things as they are, or seem to be, without intruding too conspicu- ously the writer's reasoning about his story. There is an air of giving us the facts, and letting us draw our own conclusions; and facts do not as a rule bear on their surface a clew to their logical relations. Therefore, while the story-writer is to see to it that there is an underlying coherence of one act with another, a consistency of motive, an indication of the necessary links in a chain, he does not join his sentences so closely as does the critic or the historian. 244. Emphasis in narration. Another point in which the THE SHORT STORY 333 means employed in narration differ from those hitherto famiHar is the manner of securing emphasis. In exposition emphasis is produced by position, relative space, and strong words. In nar- ration the position of the parts is determined by chronological order. The relative space alloted to the several parts of a story is not by any means directly proportional to their importance, for the climax may be powerfully set forth in a single sentence. In general, however, the principle of relative space holds good nega- tively in narration; that is, unimportant matters must not be dwelt on at length. But the chief means of emphasis in nar- ration is the use of strong words. All that was said in the chapters on words and on description concerning high-power words applies with special force in narrative. Words that con- vey strong sense-impressions give vividness, and therefore em- phasis. Passages that show character by deeds or words rather than by direct assertion require the reader to draw his own inference, and so promote emphasis. Whatever we vividly realize for ourselves in reading a story, whatever we make out for ourselves without being told, is strong. 245. The point of view in narration. A further difference between narration and exposition is in the point of view. If a writer desires to explain anything to a definite sort of readers, he adopts as nearly as he can their point of view. Adaptation to the audience is a cardinal rule of exposition and argument. In narration, on the other hand, the point of view is often one very foreign to that of the reader. It is true that in writing stories for children one adapts the vocabulary and the choice of subjects to juvenile comprehension; but stories for adults have a totally different sort of adaptation. The point of view, in- stead of being that of the reader, is that of some person con- cerned in the story. It may be that of the principal actor him- self, or of his omniscient friend, or his worldy wise valet. It may be the point of view of a stupid peasant, who merely sees things -without understanding them. Tragic events may be 334 FRESHMAN RHETORIC narrated with an apparent indifference to their significance, which by its very detachment heightens the effect. This is the style of the old English ballads, and the source of their power. The author may seem to apologize for his characters, or to mock them behind their backs. There is scarcely any limitation to the variety of points of view that may be chosen, but it is an inflexible rule that a point of view once chosen must be adhered to throughout the story. 246. The supposed narrator. One of the commonest ways of telling a story is the impersonal way, in which the point of view is that of the ordinary observer, who has by convention the power to see and hear what is going on behind closed doors, and to tell us what his characters are thinking. It is of course the easiest way, and in the hands of a master perhaps the most effective as well. On the other hand, for practice work there is much value in assuming some other basis than this. Thus, if we choose the standpoint of a certain friend of the hero, we shall not make him tell us anything that happens, except as he sees it, or hears of it, or infers it. He will not know what the hero is doing alone in his room except by the sounds or other effects. He will give us no information about the hero 's thoughts but only about his actions, his words, and the expression of his face. Suppose that the story of the Greek bootblack (the eleventh plot) is to be told by the college man who started the boy on his disastrous career as a Hellenic patriot. He will reveal the bootblack's dawning sense of the glory of Marathon only by the boy's questions and his acts. He will give the conclusion of the story only as he heard it afterward from some one who traveled with the boy, or from a formal letter written by a ship's surgeon or a consul. The quarrel between the old farmer and his son (the seventh plot) may be told by the mother, or by a hired man, but very hkely it will be better done in the imper- sonal style. Whatever plot one chooses, the first question to THE SHORT STORY 335 answer is, Who is going to tell this story — the principal actor, a minor character, an invisible onlooker? The decision will color the whole story; sometimes with sympathy, sometimes with prejudice, most often with a deliberate and evident aim to be impartial. 247. The revision of the story. Revision is more important in narration than in most other kinds of writing. Not only must the descriptive passages be pruned of useless words and strengthened according to the principles set forth in the last chapter, but the narrative portions and the dialogue must also be improved. The narrative sentences are to be scanned for rapidity of movement, strong verbs, specific adjectives. Fre- quently two successive short sentences are to be combined. Occasionally long sentences are to be divided. The paragraph- ing is adjusted to mark the natural transitions of the story. Dialogue must be made absolutely true to colloquial usage, the particular colloquial usage of the type represented. A re- view of the chapter on colloquial English (Chapter X) will remind the writer of various points in which conversation differs from writing. That chapter, however, deals chiefly with good colloquial English. In stories, we have, of course, full liberty to imitate the real talk of real people, including their bad grammar and their slang. Profanity sometimes seems to give zest, but it is too cheap and easy a way of getting an effect. Nobody is going to complain of a single irrepressible "damn" now and then, if it justifies itself, but fiction full of ''cuss- words" is a very stupid form of amusement. The stage tolerates it more than the press. Many editors will not allow it at all. Short of profanity and vulgarity the writer may make his characters talk as nearly as he can like the persons they purport to be. In the revision of dialogue the perplexing matter of naming the speakers must be adjusted. "He said," "she replied," "added George," and such phrases are not needed in any such 336 FRESHMAN RHETORIC profusion as the young writer supposes. Of course there must never be any doubt as to who is speaking, but it is by no means necessary to label every question and answer. Synonyms for said will be worked in to vary the monotony Descriptive clauses indicating the expression or gesture or attitude of a speaker may be added here and there to relieve the bareness of the sentences. At times it will be found that there is too much continuous dialogue. In that case it will be cut, or divided by action. When the farmer's son is talking about running the farm on scientific principles, the two restless men are walking about the room. One picks up a book (what book?). Another points out the window (at what?). There is more or less hammering on the table. A dialogue that lasts more than four or five hundred words with no hint of action or gesture grows to be dull. All these things are to be managed in the revision, not in the first draft. Unlike some other kinds of writing, a story is apt to have more merit if it is dashed off without regard to form, and then carefully worked over, than if it is put together bit by bit in cold blood. After the writer has done his best by way of revision, the instructor will still find many things to criticise. A second revision based upon a conference is vital to the best results. Even if the work is well done, there are always weak words to be eliminated and vigorous touches to be added. It should be constantly remembered that the larger part of the class is writing a story solely for j)ractice in winning interest by the choice of strong words, not with any idea of producing fiction that has market value. However, unsuspected talents may be revealed and developed in such practice, which are well worth following up in later elective work in composition. Suggested Assignments Assignment 69. Read sections 234-237. Read a short story from the list announced by the instructor, noting such points as are indicated in section 237. THE SHORT STORY 337 Assignment 70. Read section 238. Select from the list of plots one upon which a story will later be written, and begin thinking it over; or work out an original idea for a story if possible. Read a second short story. Assignment 71. Read a third short story. Read sections 239-241. Write out and bring to class a complete plan or scenario of your original story, including aU the main events, assigning names and places, and showing definitely the points of beginning, cHmax, and conclusion. Assignment 72. Read sections 242-246. Begin writing the story (total length is to be from two thousand words upwards) . Assignment 73. Work on the story. Assignment 74. Finish the first draft of the story. Assignment 75. Read section 247. Revise the story thoroughly for vividness in descriptions, realism in dialogue, and effective climax. Spend at least two hours in making all possible improvements. Assignment 76. Copy the story and hand it in. CHAPTER XVI HISTORICAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL NARRATION 248. The historical imagination. Historical narration, like fictitious narration, is illuminated by vivid descriptions, when the sources afford material for such descriptions; and appeals in other ways to the historical knagination, which has a certain kinship with the story-sense. The vital difference is that history and biography are Hmited to the available evidence, while the story is limited only by probability. If we set out to write an account of Henry Ward Beecher's famous speech at Liverpool during the Civil War, the first thing to do is to read contemporary accounts of the circumstances under which the speech was delivered. We must read the speech itself, read about its immediate effects, consider its indirect results. Then, and only then, can imagination come to our aid in making the scene vivid to the reader. We can add nothing to the data; we can only subtract. Skillful selection of descrip- tive details drawn from history is the only way in which we can legitimately build up a historical picture to \italize a narrative. In like manner, a narrative of the Chicago fire, or the Jutland naval battle, or the charge at Chateau-Thierry, if it purports to be history rather than fiction, must be drawn entirely from the final revised newspaper and periodical accounts. No dialogue may be invented. If we have no reliable report of any conversa- tions connected with the event, the aid given to fiction by quoted dialogue must be dispensed with. Further, the selection of material for emphasis differs in fiction and in history. In the story we work for a climax which shall impress the imagination. To that end we omit many details, not because they are irrele- 338 HISTORICAL NARRATION 339 vant, but because they are dull. The historian's selection rests upon a different basis. He seeks to show causes and results, and deals with logical relations, rather than with aesthetic values. Above all, he must explain events. Therefore history is an expository narrative. 249. Exposition in history. In Chapter VII there was an assignment of long expository essays upon historical subjects. These essays were based upon the reading of various sources, and were designed principally to develop the power of selecting and combining material. It was stipulated that the narrative element in them should be relatively slight, in order to insure adequate attention to expository structure. Now, on the other hand, we come to the consideration of historical narration as a separate species of composition. The expository purpose still remains in greater or less degree, but the emphasis is upon events. What happened, and why did it happen? In any detailed historical narrative there are many events concerning which the second question cannot be answered for lack of in- formation. If one is writing the history of a city, there will be some stages of its expansion plainly due to geographical causes, and others, equally important, of which the explanation has disappeared. History must include events and their meaning, if possible; but events slightly understood, or not understood at all, must be faithfully reported. This point constitutes the principal difference between the assignments of this chapter and those of Chapter VII. 250. Description in history. Historical description goes with historical narration. In its means of securing force it can learn much from the descriptions of fiction. Here, as there, the specific is preferable to the general; words that convey strong sense-impressions are effective; and the point of view should be clearly defined. For details of a sort available for vivid historical descriptions the larger works of reference must be consulted. Manuals have no space for anything more than an 340 FRESHMAN RHETORIC outline of events. It must always be remembered that history depends upon geography, and that guidebooks, works of travel, maps, and photographs are among the sources for historical description. 251. English history studied in composition assignments. The historical assignments in this chapter are intended to form an introduction to early Enghsh history, or a review of it, which will have direct value in the study of English literature. College study of general European history, even if it comes early enough to form a background for introductory courses in EngUsh literature, pays too little attention to the elementary facts of English history. It takes for granted many things that college freshmen and sophomores do not know. Collateral reading, in such a book as Cheyney's Short History of England, or Gardiner's Student's History of England, is almost indis- pensable for any useful study of the history of English literature. This work may well be begun in the latter part of the freshman year in connection with narrative writing. The methods to be followed in collecting and arranging material are similar to these explained in Chapters VI and VII. Abundant biblio- graphical references are given by Cheyney. From the fifty subjects named each member of the class should write an essay of about a thousand words, based on reading from at least two books, besides encyclopedias. The sources used should be Hsted at the end of the essay, and all quoted passages should be plainly marked, with proper citations. The topics extend from the Saxon conquest down to the beginning of modern literature with the accession of Elizabeth (449-1558). Other topics in later English history, or in world history of recent years, may be added by approval of the instructor. Topics for Historical Essays 1. England at the End of the Roman Period. 2. The Saxon Conquest. 3. The Christianizalion of England. HISTORICAL NARRATION 341 4. Caedmon. 5. Bede. 6. Local Government in Saxon England. 7. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. 8. The Danish Invasions. 9. Alfred the Great. 10. The Norman Conquest. 11. WiUiam the Conqueror. 12. History of the Tower of London. 13. History of Kenilworth Castle. 14. Life in a Norman Castle. 15. History of Canterbury Cathedral. 16. History of Westminster Hall. 17. History of Westminster Abbey. 18. Richard Coeur de Lion. 19. The Reign of King John. 20. Thomas Becket. 21. The Beginnings of Parliament. 22. Monks and Friars in Medieval England. 23. The Jews in Medieval England. 24. The War of Scottish Liberation. 25. Oxford in the Middle Ages. 26. The Battle of Crecy. 27. Rural Life in the Fourteenth Century. 28. Travel in Medieval England. 29. The Peasants' RebeUion. 30. John of Gaunt. 31. John Wychffe. 32. William of Wykeham. 33. Geoffrey Chaucer. 34. Henry V. 35. The Battle of Agincourt. 36. Joan of Arc. 37. The Wars of the Roses. 38. Richard III. 39. WilHam Caxton. 40. Sir Thomas More. 41. William Tjmdale. 42. Cardinal Wolsey. 43. The Dissolution of the Monasteries. 44. The Reign of Edward VI. 342 FRESHMAN RHETORIC 45 46 47 48 49 50. Early History of the English Bible. The Establishment of the Church of England. Lady Jane Grey. The Reign of Mary. Archbishop Cranmer. England at the Accession of Elizabeth. Several points may be mentioned in regard to these histori- cal essays. Particular care is to be taken in the selection of anecdotes and specific instances to illustrate the points made. The paragraphing of historical narrative has much the same principle as that of exposition. Chronological limits sometimes supply the natural transitions from one paragraph to another, but quite as often the grouping of material is topical. Above all, the writer is to remember that his subject is not inherently interesting to the average audience, and that therefore he is to undertake deliberately to bring out those features of it which seem to have enduring significance and value. Nothing can be more barren and useless than the mere writing down of cold, dead facts without interpretation and vitalization. The audience is to be constantly in mind — a college audience, knowing little of English history, but responsive to every touch of human in- terest, of idealism, of beauty and power. 252. Biography as the interpretation of personality. Bio- graphical writing such as that included in the historical topics above named is practically identical in method with other nar- ration. Another kind of biography, however, is more appro- priate in the treatment of modern subjects. Suppose we undertake an essay on Leo Tolstoy. What we need here is not a mere statement of the facts of his life, as in the case of Thomas Becket or Cardinal Wolsey, as part of the history of the time, but an interpretation. Tolstoy represents a great idea. All the books that he wrote, and all the deeds that he did, merely illuminate the stages of a unique and fascinating character. Hence in writing about him wc more nearly approach exposi- HISTORICAL NARRATION 343 tion, using narrative only to illustrate our interpretation of his character. This is a kind of writing exceedingly valuable for the student. It introduces him to the reading of modern bi- ography, a part of education much neglected by college men. Further, it cultivates the power to seize the essential elements of a man's greatness and of his weakness, and to show his life as a conflict, issuing in victory or defeat. For the biographical essays in the following list, each student should read, in addition to a short encyclopedia sketch of the life for an outline, at least two hundred pages from the larger standard biography and from the letters of the subject. No essay can be satisfactory that is based on an encyclopedia. On the other hand, the time available will hardly permit the reading through of a large biography. Judicious selection from the fuller narratives for picturesque detail, preceded or followed by the reading of a summary account, will give the best com- bination. For a few titles on the list, magazine articles will be the only available information. These essays, like the nar- ratives from English history, should be at least a thousand words long. Topics for Biographical Essays 1. Sir Philip Sidney. 2. Ben Jonson. 3. Oliver Cromwell. 4. John Bunyan. 5. Alexander Pope. 6. Daniel Defoe. 7. Jonathan Swift. 8. John Wesley. 9. Samuel Johnson. 10. Edmund Burke. 11. Richard Brinsley Sheridan. 12. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. 13. Heinrich Heine. 14. Francois Marie Arouet de Voltaire. 15. Jean Jacques Rousseau. 344 FRESHMAN RHETORIC 1 6. Honore Gabriel de Mirabeau. 17. WiUiam Blake. 18. Benjamin Franklin. 19. George Washington. 20. Robert Morris. 21. Thomas Jefferson. 22. Alexander Hamilton. 2T,. William Wordsworth. 24. Samuel Taylor Coleridge. 25. Charles Lamb. 26. George Gordon Lord Byron. 27. Percy Bysshe Shelley. 28. John Keats. 29. Walter Scott. 30. Thomas Babington Macaulay. 31. John Henry Newman. 32. Thomas Carlyle. 2;^. John Rusk in. 34. Charles Kingsley. 35. John Stuart Mill. 36. Jane Austen. 37. William Makepeace Thackeray. 38. Charles Dickens. 39. George Eliot. 40. Victor Hugo. 41. Camillo Bcnso Cavour. 42. Giuseppe Mazzini. 43. Giuseppe Garibaldi. 44. Prince Bismarck. 45. Benjamin Disraeli. . 46. Wilham Ewart Gladstone. 47. Anthony Ashley Cooper, Seventh Earl of Shaftesbury. 48. Henry Martyn. 49. James Chalmers. 50. David Livingstone. 51. Daniel Webster. 52. Robert Edward Lee. 53. Stonewall Jackson. 54. Abraham Lincoln. 55. Ulysses S. Grant. 56. Henry David Thoreau. HISTORICAL NARRATION 345 57. Edgar Allen Poe. 58. Ralph Waldo Emerson, 59. James Russell Lowell. 60. Walt Whitman. 61. Sidney Lanier. 62. Robert Browning. 63. Alfred Tennyson. 64. Matthew Arnold. 65. Dante Gabriel Rossetti. 66. George Meredith. 67. Algernon Charles Swinbunie. 68. William Morris. 69. Robert Louis Stevenson. 70. Charles Darwin. 71. Herbert Spencer. 72. Thomas Henry Huxley. 73. Louis Pasteur. 74. Henrik Ibsen. 75. Clara Barton. 76. Florence Nightingale. 77. Dwight L. Moody. 78. Octavia Hill. 79. AUce Freeman Palmer. 80. Helen Keller. 81. Jane Addams. 82. Leo Tolstoy 83. Richard Wagner. 84. Grover Cleveland. 85. Martin Brewer Anderson. 86. William Rainey Harper. 87. Phillips Brooks. 88. Andrew Carnegie. 89. George Bernard Shaw. 90. Augustus St. Gaudens. 91. Theodore Thomas. 92. Edward Macdowell. 93. William James. 94. Booker T. Washington. 95. Lord Kitchener 96. Marshal Foch. 97. David Lloyd-George. 346 FRESHMAN RHETORIC 98. Theodore Roosevelt. 99. Charles William Eliot. 100. Woodrow Wilson. Suggested A ssignments Assignment 77. Read sections 248-251. Select a historical subject from the list in section 251, or some other historical subject approved by the instructor, and begin reading in preparation for an essay. Assignments 78, 79. Complete the reading for the historical essay and make an outUne. Assignment 80. Historical essay due. Assignment 81. Read section 252, choose a biographical subject, and begin reading. Assignments 82, 83. Complete the reading and make an outline. Assignment 84. Biographical essay due. CHAPTER XVII COLLEGE JOURNALISM 253. News writing and editorial writing are important for students. Although a comparatively small number of men do most of the work on college newspapers and magazmes, yet some knowledge of journalistic methods is desirable for all who read them. Both in widening the group of possible contributors to these periodicals, and in laying the foundation for an intelligent judgment of the merits or demerits of the editorial management, a little study and practice in this kind of writing may be regarded as a proper part of any college course in composition. The work done on a college newspaper is of four kinds: (i) news writing; (2) editorial writing; (3) editorial supervision and management of the printing of the paper, including preparation of copy, writing heads, reading galley proofs, making up the "dummy," indicating the arrangement of matter on the pages, and reading the page proofs; (4) business management, including advertising and subscriptions. Of these the first two kinds will be briefly considered in this chapter. 254. Many kinds of narrative are really news writing. Nar- rative writing may be divided, according to purpose, into three classes: (i) fictitious narratives, written to please; (2) historical and biographical narratives dealing with the past, written to inform as well as to please; (3) narratives of current events, written to convey prompt and accurate information, to tell the news. This last kind of narration has much wider uses than the term "news writing" may seem to imply. Not merely reports in- tended for daily newspapers and college weeklies, but also much of the contents of college annuals, and many reports of a narra- 347 348 FRESHMAN RHETORIC tive sort written by professional and business men, may be grouped together under this head. There may not seem to be any close connection between the college reporter's account of a student debate, or a game, and a business manager's monthly report to his board of directors, or an engineer's statement of progress on public works durmg a fiscal year. Yet these and many other kinds of narrative writing have this in common, that they aim to report an event or series of events with clearness and accuracy. While the primary purpose of fiction is to please, and the primary purpose of history is to interpret events long past, the primary purpose of news writing is to report events for pubUc information. What happened? That is all we ask of the newspaper. The newspaper does not always answer it. Unfor- tunately other purposes have crept uito our newspapers through business competition. They too often, in their attempt to be entertaining, fail in the primary purpose of giving information. Yet many of the methods which they have developed, contrary a§"^they seem to the principles of ordinary composition, have proved by experience to be the best for this special purpose. 255. Principles of news writing applicable to business and professional reports. Nothing could be farther from the purpose of this brief chapter than to instruct students in writmg for the newspapers. Journalism is a business, which is learned only by long and hard experience. All that is attempted here is to show how some of the fundamental principles of news writ- ing can be and should be applied to ordinary narratives of recent events. The widest application of these methods in the practical use of EngHsh after graduation will be in business and professional letters and reports. Every man appointed to any administra- tive office, every foreman, manager, inspector, supervisor, architect, engineer, every person charged with observing or controlling events, must write news all his life. It is the com- monest kind of writing, commoner even than exposition, and much commoner than argument. In all kinds of news writing, COLLEGE JOURNALISM- 349 while interest governs the selection and proportion of details, clearness and force are the main essentials. In the majority of cases the news writer may assume an initial interest on the part of the reader. His business is not chiefly to attract people to read his report, but to make the reading of it easy and profitable. This end he seeks by various applications of the principle of economy of attention. 256. Economy of attention. By demanding economy of attention we mean that since the human mind has limited powers of exertion, and a large natural inertia, writers and speakers must make the lightest possible drafts upon those powers. They must save wear and tear on the reader's brains. The writer of a textbook ought to practice economy of attention in compassion for the unfortunate students who have to read it. The writer of news will practice economy not from motives of compassion but in self-defense. If he does not, people will not read what he has to say. The next day they are likely to buy another paper. Of course the principle of economy of attention appUes to all kinds of composition, but it is particularly im- portant in this kind of narration. 257. The story thrice told. In obedience to this principle of economy of attention, a good news report tells every story three times. That sounds contradictory, but the custom is really admirable. The newspaper tells us the story first in the head, secondly in the lead, and thirdly in the body of the article. The head contains the most striking points of the story, so phrased that he who runs may read. It is true that many newspapers, in their striving for sensational effects, misrepresent the news in their heads ; but many others do not. A glance over the pages of the right sort of paper gives the busy reader a notion of the events of the day, even though he may not read a line of the news itseh. If, attracted by the impor- tance or novelty of some piece of news as indicated by the head, he begins to read further, he finds in the first paragraph, often a 3 so FRESHMAN RHETORIC single sentence, a compact statement of the principal facts. This is called the lead (rimes with deed). Below that comes the body of the story, perhaps a column or a page of details. These three divisions, the head, the lead, and the body of the story, will be briefly considered. 258. The head. For a college paper heads seldom extend beyond two "decks"; that is, two distinct phrases or sentences in different type, each occupying one or more lines, e.g.: CLASS RUSH ABOLISHED Faculty Prohibits Scrap on account of Protests from Alumni and Parents SUCCESSFUL SEASON ENDS l^eam Has Won Nine out of Eleven Games NEW LABORATORY OPENED Best Equipnent in the State For minor news articles, as well as for editorials, the single line head is used. In general it is well in writing news heads to follow the rule of most daily newspapers that there must be a finite verb, a participle, or an infinitive in every head. Mere noun-phrases, such as "Fire in the Dormitory" and "Prospects for Baseball" are too tame. "Juniors Elect a Neutral Presi- dent" is better than "The Junior Election." "Dramatic Club Will Play The Rivals" is to be preferred to "Choice of Play." The limitations of type and the width of columns determine the exact choice of words by the head writer, who is really writing for the printer. Students in this course may well experiment as far as time permits with short, apt heads for their news stories, chiefly as an exercise in compact expression. COLLEGE JOURNALISM 351 259. The lead. The first sentence,or two or three sentences, of a good news story will always be found to contain all the important elements of the entire article. The lead of a fire story, for example, will give the place, time, cause, and efifect of the fire, including the estimated loss, all in one sentence. If a truck has collided with a trolley car on the way to the fire, that will make a second sentence; unless the colhsion, resulting in personal injury or death, is more important than the fire, in which case the order of the two sentences will be reversed. Not until his attention is called to it does the ordinary news- paper reader fully appreciate the convenience of the lead. If his time is limited, he need read no farther. If he has been misled by the head, and finds that the story is not likely to interest him, he is saved useless labor. While unskillfully written leads are likely to make clumsy sentences, the best work in this field arouses the admiration of a discerning reader. By all means let the student in his news stories, the business or professional man in his reports, adopt the principle of the lead. Let his first sentences tell in a nutshell all that there would be to tell if his report had to be made by telegram. 260. The body. After the lead comes the body of the story. The second paragraph of the fire story is quite likely to state more at length the extent of the damage and the danger to surrounding property. The third paragraph may deal with the cause of the fire, and the circumstances connected with its dis- covery. Following paragraphs take up minor details, inter- views with eye-witnesses, humorous or pathetic episodes, and other points, in order of diminishing importance. The story seldom has a strong close. It seems to end in anticlimax. 261. Details in order of decreasing importance. Readers whose standards of excellence in composition are based solely on books and magazines are apt to suppose this upside-down method of the reporter to be a mere blunder. On the contrary, with all the crudities evident in its application, the principle 352 FRESHMAN RHETORIC underlying the arrangement of a news story is fundamentally sound. It is a fine example of adaptation to a practical end, and yields the maximum economy of attention. So striking is the contrast between the method of news writing and the method of fiction or drama, that no one who has once had it called to his attention can fail to be impressed by it. The novelist or dramatist introduces his characters, brings forward his dominant motive or idea, leads us through scenes of growing suspense and mystery to a baffling moment of crisis; and then, within sight of the end, gives us for the first time the decisive act which determines all that follows. He values suspense, surprise, climax; and the pleasure he gives us is rather in the seeking than in the finding of the decisive deed. But many readers always turn to the last chapter of a novel before they can be happy in reading the rest. This instinct to learn "how it comes out," foreign as it may be to the spirit of fiction, is normal in the field of news. Suppose that the fire story began with the sounding of the alarm; continued with the arrival of the fire companies and the spread of the flames; and rambled on for half a column before it revealed the final loss, and the serious accident that came with the falling of the walls. Who would buy such a paper? We do not read the papers for artistic crises; we read them to get the news, and to get it quick. 262. Avoid weak conclusions. Some features of news writ- ing, as practiced in the daily papers, are due to the haste and the mechanical problems involved in making the paper. These are not to be imitated by the student, working for practice. For one thing, while all good news stories must begin strongly, they need not end weakly. If a long newspaper story adds minor details and ends in anticlimax, it has been printed in that way for one or another of the following reasons: (i) be- cause something has been cut from the end to make room for late news; or (2) because it has been so written that the con- cluding paragraphs may be cut if necessary; or (3) because COLLEGE JOURNALISM 353 incidental matters have been added at the last moment to fill the allotted space held open for the story; or (4) because the separate contributions of several reporters, coming into the office at intervals, have been pieced together by the copy reader, as well as he could in the haste of his work, but not well enough to avoid imperfections. A news story written by a student, or any kind of narrative discussed in this chapter, should end with a point of importance, either a restatement of something hinted in the lead, or a summary or comparison pertinent to the subject. The report of a game, for example, may well end with a summary of the team's victories and de- feats up to date, or a comparison of a game with a previous one, or some similar point derived from the material. A re- port of progress by the manager or inspector of some enterprise will summarize the facts first in the lead, and again, in a new iorm, with a glance at the future, in the conclusion. This principle applies to long news stories. Short reports of a few paragraphs need no conclusion. 263. Avoid illogical arrangement. A second respect in which ordinary newspaper writing has inevitable defects, which should not be imitated, is in the matter of coherence. Owing to the way in which news is gathered and put into type, a long re- port, even in a good newspaper, frequently shows illogical arrangement of minor paragraphs, lack of unity within the par- agraphs, repetitions, and even contradictions. Students' nar- ratives should observe the same care to preserve the unity of the paragraph and the coherent arrangement of material as is demanded in other kinds of writing. The order here, it is true, is from effect to cause, from end to beginnings; but within that reversed order the principle of keeping together the things that belong together must be maintained. Some kind of out- line is of course essential. It may be a phrase outline rather than a sentence outline, but it must show clearly the order of treatment and the grouping of facts into their several classes. 354 FRESHMAN RHETORIC The reporter and the copy reader working on the fire story would, if they could, put together all the various sentences and paragraphs dealing with a single topic, such as the losses and the insurance. The writer who is not working under pressure to catch an edition has no excuse for incoherence. 264, Study of actual newspaper stories. In order to discover the merits and defects of news writing as seen in the daily papers, the members of the class may be asked to cut out from a current paper a local news story, not less than two columns long. It should be local news, not telegraph news; and should deal with some event of local importance, not with a public meeting or an interview. A large fire, a murder, a serious accident, a robbery, will yield the best material. The story should be pasted on sheets of theme paper and analyzed by marginal annotations. Each main division should be indi- cated by an appropriate word or phrase — the lead, the main facts, the effects, the causes or motives, the attendant circum- stances, the minor details. In a burglary story, for example, after the lead may be found the loss, then the methods used in breaking in or cracking the safe, then clews, interviews with persons involved, and police theories. If there has been an arrest on suspicion, or a gun play, pursuit, and escape, such features will be brought in early in the story. Students should note all paragraphs lacking in unity, and all sentences or para- graphs out of place. A brief criticism at the end should in- clude, if necessary, an outline for the rearrangement of the material to remedy incoherence. 265. College life yields few big stories. Student practice in news writing can seldom be applied to news events of the ordi- nary kind. Since news must be based on personal knowledge or investigation, the only events commonly available are those connected with college life. Most of these are neither abso- lutely nor relatively of suflScient importance to demand reports of more than half a column in a newspaper. Frequently they COLLEGE JOURNALISM 355 are not worth more than a quarter of a column, or a single paragraph. Nevertheless, the same principles govern the short story as the long one. The first sentence in every case must contain the essential facts, the second the principal attendant circumstances, and the rest of the narrative must take up the more detailed facts in some logical order. Two assignments in news writing may be given to the class, one being any kind of news story except athletic events, the other being a report of a game; or a choice may be allowed between the two. For the first assignment such topics as the following are suggested: 1. A class business meeting. 2. A class dinner, or dance. 3. A lecture or address before a college audience. 4. Beginning, progress, or completion of a new building. 5. Changes in the curriculum as found in the catalogue. 6. New faculty appointments. 7. Musical club news. 8. Dramatic club news. 9. Student finances. 10. Plans for a convention or other public meeting. It may be found necessary to select for the reports events several weeks old, in case there is a scarcity of real news about the campus. Reports and articles of a sort designed for a col- lege annual, rather than for a weekly newspaper, will serve quite as well. In all sorts of news writing, absolute accuracy in names and dates is required. It is inexcusable to misspell personal names, or write wrong initials, when a copy of the college catalogue is available. Vagueness in dates is also im- proper. The day of the month should be given, rather than phrases such as "last Tuesday," "last week." 266. Athletic reporting. Athletic reporting is a branch of news writing more commonly done by students, and more wretchedly done, than any other. The impression seems to Ss6 FRESHMAN RHETORIC prevail that a special dialect is necessary. Not the technical terminology of the game, but a curious jargon of newspaper slang is affected by college reporters, in weak imitation of the sporting editor's picturesque style. A pitcher is always a "hurler" or a "twirler," a batsman is a "swatsmith," a first baseman "holds down the initial sack," a game is "pulled off," or "staged," football players are "pigskin chasers," a rival team is "theblue," or "the green," or "the Windy City aggregation." This sort of thing is confidently believed to impart an exhilaration to the reader which will heighten the joys of victory and ease the pangs of defeat. Now there is a baseball language, indigenous to the soil of the diamond, which is quite as invigorating as the great Amer- ican game itseK. As written by the experts of the New York and Chicago newspapers, this language (which is not English) is picturesque and highly diverting. But the college ath- letic dialect, as written by undergraduates, is no more like the baseball language than it is like English. Observation proves that spirited athletic reporting, without clumsy straining for humorous effects, is both possible and readable. The technical terms of a game are always proper. The error to be avoided is the labored substitution of roundabout phrases for simple nouns and verbs. A little experimenting will demonstrate to a class that to report a game in straightforward sentences and plain English phrases is neither dull nor difficult. 267. Feature stories. A sort of writing which is not strictly news, and yet is essential to the making of a newspaper, is the writing of special articles, descriptive or expository in nature, concerning matters of current interest. The term "feature story" as used in a newspaper office covers a wide variety of readable material printed primarily because it is interesting. As applied to a college paper it would include all such subjects as the following: COLLEGE JOURNALISM 357 1. Unusual ways in which some students earn their living. 2. Foreign students and what they think of American customs. 3. Human nature as observed in the college commons. 4. Curious and rare books in the college library. 5. The per capita cost of instruction in this college. 6. Alumni who have become prominent in a certain profession, or public life. 7. Humors of the lost and found bureau. 8. What does the English department do with old themes? 9. New pieces of costly apparatus in scientific laboratories. 10. Geographical distribution of students according to the counties and states represented, compared year by year. Such articles are usually a column or more in length, and if well written and prominently displayed are likely to have as many readers as the news of the week. Most of them require more time for their preparation than an unimportant news story, and hence they are likely to be neglected by the reporters even when specially assigned. Nevertheless no good weekly paper can be conducted, especially in a small college, without a regular supply of material of this kind, to be run when news is short, or to be condensed and used as "fillers." Freshmen ambitious to win an appointment on the staff could not do better than to try their hands at feature stories on topics appropriate to the time and place, and submitting them to the proper persons. 268. Interviews. College papers use interviews chiefly to get the views of faculty members and prominent alumni on ques- tions of college interest. Several points should be borne in mind in attempting to write an interview. In the first place, the interviewer should know exactly what questions he desires to ask, in order not to waste the time and the patience of the person interviewed by clumsy attempts to make himself clear. In the second ])lace, he should take accurate notes, being very careful not to misrepresent by any change of phraseology the substance of what was said. In the third place, he should respect scrupulously any such caution as "Don't write this 358 FRESHMAN RHETORIC down," or "I don't care to be quoted on that point." In the fourth place, in writing up the interview, he should be careful to make it clear that the initiative came entirely from the reporter's or the editor's side; sometimes reporters write up an interview in such a way that it reads as if the man had tried to advertise his opinions by getting them into print. As to the form of the interview, it is customary to print most of the answers in the form of direct quotation, inside quotation marks; and on this account it is always better, when practicable, to submit the copy to the person interviewed before it goes to the printer. 269. Editorial writing. The editorial page of a college paper is the only proper place for the expression of editorial opinion; news stories should be free from bias, and no coloring for or against any person or organization or policy has any place on the news pages. Since expressions of opinion are, or ought to be, limited to this one department of the paper, it is all the more important that they should be maturely considered and well written. On the contrary, the editorial articles, especially the shorter ones, are often more carelessly and hurriedly put together than anything else in the paper. A good editorial should seldom exceed three or four paragraphs in length. It should display good temper, good judgment, and good style. Sarcasm and abuse are wholly out of place. Irony is always liable to be misunderstood. Partisanship in matters of college politics or athletic policy is dangerous. The guiding principle should always be an unselfish and enlightened regard for the best and highest interests of the college, and a tolerant spirit toward minorities. A tendency exists to make the editorial page one long grumble against people and things not favored by the editors. Earnest advocacy of reform does not require the maintenance of a "knocking" policy. Words of commendation for good work unselfishly done by inconspicuous members of the college community are always appropriate. Notes of encouragement COLLEGE JOURNALISM 359 regarding marks of improvement in any branch of college affairs are admirable material. Such topics as the two last named are peculiarly suited to short editorial paragraphs from one to three sentences long — a sort of "copy" always welcome to the make-up man, and invariably read with attention. Indeed it may be said that the actual effect of an editorial article, if judged by the number and the interest of its readers, is in inverse ratio to its length. Perhaps nowhere in the field of college English is it possible to accomplish more by a few words fitly spoken than in a short, pithy, generous, loyal para- graph on the editorial page of a paper which has won the respect of the college. Suggested Assignments Assignment 85. Read sections 253-264. Select from a daily newspaper an important local news story and analyze it as suggested in section 264, bringing the copy to class. Assignment 86. Read sections 265 and 266. Write a college news story based upon some event of the past two weeks; either a report of a game or one of the other kinds of news of which examples are given in section 265. Assignment 87. Write, in the style of a news story, a history of the fresh- man class up to date, as if for publication in a college annual. The length should not exceed six to eight hundred words. Early adventures, the class dinner, class athletics, and similar topics will furnish the material. Assignment 88. Read sections 267-269. Write an editorial article suitable for a college paper. Assignment 89. Write another editorial article; or four detached editorial paragraphs. This is your best and last chance as a freshman to say what you think of the rest of the college. Say it kindly, but firmly; and say it in as good English as you can command. By "good English" is meant the right English for the occasion. CHAPTER XVIII PROGRESS AND PROSPECT 270. Taking account of stock. After nine months of college the freshman takes account of stock. What more do you know, what more can you do, than in September? How much better can the mind serve the will, and the tongue serve the mind? How much more efficient is the process that translates ideas into speech? Every student knows in his heart that these are among the things that count. They are not confined to rhetoric. They cover every study of the college year — mathematics, science, foreign languages, and the rest. All were designed to sharpen the wits. All were intended to shorten the time that it takes for a man to see things accurately, to reason soundly, and to act efficiently. It is a good thing for students to take an annual inventory at the close of a year's business. The first essay of the year was an autobiography for the information of the instructor. The last essay may well be a personal inventory for the information of the student. Let us assume that the freshman is indebted to some older friend for the original suggestion that led him to come to college, or for pecuniary assistance, or for sympathy and helpful advice in some difficulty. To that friend what kind of report can the freshman make during the week before the June examinations? What progress can he report, and to what prospects can he honestly look forward? The title of this valedictory theme may be something like "What the Year Has Meant to Me," or "Profit and Loss," or "Assets and Liabilities." It will be exposition, description, and narrative all combined, with per- haps a bit of argument thrown in; a kind of "Apologia pro 360 PROGRESS AND PROSPECT 361 Vita Sua," or "Confessions of an Inquiring Mind," or some- thing of that sort. Here is the chance to say all the hard things one has been saving up against the day of judgment; the chance, too, for certain discreet confessions of dawning humility and regretful ignorance. Humor will temper it, for a freshman's life is an intrinsically humorous thing, if he did but know it. Reminiscence will keep it free from triviality, for nine months are gone, and how little there is to show for them ! There will be no whining, no boasting, and no sentimentality. The young man says to himself, "Nine months gone; at least five hundred dollars in real money paid out; and what for? What next?" If he will recall the fact that every freshman costs the college at least a hundred dollars more than he pays in tuition fees, which represents interest on the capital that society has invested in him as a prospective college man, it may help him to be honest with himself. "The first and worst of all frauds is to cheat oneself." Naturally a man will not put everything he thinks about it on paper. He would be a fool to do that, for some of the best things we ever say are the hard words we whisper to ourselves between clenched teeth when nobody is around. But, to the end that the freshman's June inventory shall be fairly complete, the following suggestive questions are offered: 271. The trial balance sheet. 1. What have I really learned this year in the college classrooms? 2. What have I learned from association with classmates? 3. What have I learned from outside reading, apart from textbooks? 4. What have I learned of the methods and ideals of scholars? 5. How much more at home am I in a library, as a storehouse of facts and a center of intellectual interests? 6. How much more do I know and care about the government, the people, the progress of the city and the country 1 live in? 7. What more can I do with my mind than I could do last fall? 8. How much longer can I hold my attention on the words of a speaker? 9. How much better can I concentrate my mind on a book and grasp the substance of what I am reading? 362 FRESHMAN RHETORIC 10. How much more capable am I of thinking, reading, and writing amid distractions? 11. How far have I advanced in the power to attack a problem, to face new facts and new situations? 12. How much less are my judgments of men and ideas the result of prejudice and impulse, how much more of reason? 13. How much better able am I to stand alone in a conscientious opinion, and to subordinate prejudice in order to cooperate with others? 14. Can I make myself understood in speech and writing better than I could last fall? 15. Can I talk in such a way as to defend myself when I know I am right, to persuade other men when I know they are wrong, and to make myself count in a crowd? 16. Can I name the weak points in my English, — grammar, spelling, pronunciation, vocabulary, clear thinking, — and have I any plan for correcting them? 17. How many hours a day have I wasted this year? Is there any way to waste less next year? 18. What new interests have developed during the year? 19. What change has the year made in my plans for the future? 20. Has the spirit of the college got hold of me? If so, what is it, and what has it done for me? What can I do for it? These are not unsuitable questions for one who has under taken to live for a time the intellectual life in a society of scholars. They may be singularly unfit for some circles in which young men find themselves after a few months of drift- ing. But a man who faces, even once a year, the problem of his relative efficiency, as a product and as a producer, is not likely to waste much time in vain regrets. He is too busy considering how he may cease to be wholly an effect, and be- come in some small degree a cause. Having wearied of regard- ing himself as the helpless and hapless victim of a system, he decided to take a hand himself. vSelf-direction begins. The will wakes. Purpose begins to push, where before the system has had to pull. An enlightened self-interest, or an exalted altruism, may be equally effectual in leading a student to begin to study. That, just at present, is his real business. If either PROGRESS AND PROSPECT 363 in learning or in power he feels himself radically wanting as he reviews the year, the path of opportunity lies open before him still. Rhetoric, in short, is inseparable from life. It stands for human efficiency. Strip it of all forms and customs, and it proves to be nothing more nor less than the mind in communi- cation with other minds for a desired end. With his hands a man works deeds — changes in the position of matter; with his brain he works problems — changes in the relation of his own ideas; with tongue and pen he shares his deeds, his problems, his knowledge, and his sympathies, with his fellows, thereby working a change in the relation of ideas in other minds. These three are all the kinds of work that a man can do in this world: deeds, ideas, expression. Therefore a command of good writing, and especially of clear and effective speaking, is the most impor- tant single element of education in a social democracy. Lan- guage that is but a borrowed garment will fail a man in some emergency. Language that is the man himself, made vocal by the mystery of words, links him with the past, the present, and the future: with the inheritance of the past, in history and literature; with the duty of the present, in social efficiency; with the hope of the future, in poetry and prophecy and prayer. At the end, as at the beginning, let it be remembered that we cannot all be eloquent, but we can all be clear; we cannot all master language as a fine art, but we can all use it as a fine tool. College men in all their work will do well to remember that in the long run, while deeds, ideas, and ideals are the things that count most, they are all limited and interpreted and judged bywords. Constant vigilance, self-criticism, and patient practice are the only means of attaining excellence. No labor is too great that is necessary to the masteTy of a good English style. Suggested A ssignment Assignment 90. Read Chapter XVIII and write a review of the year's work of the sort indicated by the list of questions. GLOSSARY OF COMMON ERRORS IN SYNTAX AND DICTION I AH during. In such colloquial phrases as "all during the latter part of the year," it is better to say "during all the latter part," or "all through the latter part." All right. Two words; there is no such word as alright. Along this line. A hackneyed expression which should be avoided. Use synonymous phrases appropriate to the particular sentence; e.g., "about this," "on this point," "in this direction." And which. The relative which or who should never be preceded by and except when there is another relative clause introduced by which or who earlier in the sentence. The error is a violation of the principle of parallel structure. Incorrect: "This is a serious situation, and which could not have been foreseen." Omit the and, or rewrite the sentence in parallel construction, e.g.: "This is a situation which is more serious than appears at first sight, and which could not have been foreseen." Antecedents, (i) A pronoun should never be used when there is any uncertainty as to which of two or more preceding substantives is the ante- cedent. Repeat the substantive, or recast the sentence. (2) The antecedent of a pronoun must always be a word or phrase actually expressed in the text, not a whole clause or sentence. Incorrect: "The bill re- mained unpaid for more than two years, which injured the credit of the class and of the college." Substitute which delay or which fact, or recast the sentence. (3) A pronoun must agree in number with its antecedent. After one, every one, everybody, plural pronouns are incorrect. Anxious. Suggests the idea of painful suspense; should not be used in YAduCQol desirous, eager, ioidcswe unacompanied by apprehension. Correct: "She was anxious that the dinner should be a social success" — that is, she was somewhat worried lest it might be a failure. Incorrect: "I am anxious ' This list includes, in addition to common errors, a few words not erroneous but often confused with others which they resemble in form or in meaning. Certain of the most common errors already treated in the body of the book are here repeated for emphasis and for convenience of reference ( e.g., so, due to, whom, one of the) . Space is left at the end for additional notes on errors discussed in class. 366 FRESHMAN RHETORIC to get a copy of that book" (should be "I am eager" or "I wish very much"). Any. See Some. Any place, some place. Illiterate expressions for anywhere, somewhere. Anywheres, somewheres, nowheres. Illiterate expressions for anywhere, somcwhirc, nmchtrc. Article repeated in a series. The article, if used before the first sub- stantive in a series, must be repeated before each later substantive in the scries denoting a distinct person or thing. Correct: "A freshman, a sophomore, and a junior were appointed on the committee." "The French, the Italians, and the Japanese agreed to this restriction." Incorrect: "A man, woman, and child were rescued from the wreck." "The infantry and artillery cooperated in this movement." As. (i) .4.? should not be used for tluit or "whether after don't know. Incorrect: "I don't know as I can finish it to-day." Use whether. (2) As should not be used for such as. Incorrect: "Many poets have used this stanza, as Tennyson, Swinburne, and Morris." Use such as. (3) As should not be excessively used in colloquial English, nor used at all in formal English, in the sense of since, because, for. Crude: "The men were tired out, as they had worked steadily all day." Better /or; or, "after working steadily all day." As much ... if not more. The straddling construction in which the speaker hesitates between equality and superiority usually results in awkwardness, and often in errors. Incorrect: "The team is as strong, if not stronger than it was last year." A correct but awkward sentence can be made by inserting as after strong; but this addition throws an unpleasant emphasis upon the words as and than. Better: "The team is as strong as it was last year, if not stronger." As per. Except in condensed commercial memoranda, prefer according to. As per is not desirable in business letters, and not permissible in general writing. See Per. As though. This expression, equivalent to as if, has considerable sup- port in usiige, but the more logical as if is preferable. A condition, not a concession, is implied. As well as. (i) An adjective phrase introduced by as well as, and form- ing -a part of the complete subject of a sentence, does not alter a singular simple subject to a jilural. Correct: "The manager, as well as all the directors, was ignorant of the real situation." (2) An adverbial phrase introduced by as well as followed by a i)articiple frequently leads to awkwardness. Awkward: ''This arrangement insures his prompt attention to the prol)Iem, as well as leaving him free to choose his own method of dealing with it." Better; "This arrangement insures his GLOSSARY 367 prompt attention to the problem, at the same time leaving him free" (or "leav- ing him free, nevertheless,"). The sentence may be made compound, the second clause beginning "and yet leaves him free." Still another remedy would be to change the principal verb insures to a participle, in which case as well as joins two participles in parallel construction: "This arrangement, insuring his prompt attention to the problem, as wdl as leaving him free to choose his own method of dealing with it, was finally adopted." The error is particularly glaring when the participle being follows as well as. Awkward: "The car is capable of excellent work, as well as being economical in the consumption of gasoline." Omit being, or use the coordinating phrases not only . . . bid also. Awful, awfully. Even in colloquial English, awfttl, awfully should be sparingly used for extreme, extremely, very. The objection is not merely that the word properly means "inspiring awe," for colloquial speech is always seeking picturesque intensives; but rather that by overuse the word has lost both its picturesqueness and its intensity. To restore its meaning is impossible; to use it less frequently, however, will strengthen rather than weaken speech. Back. See In back of. Beside, besides. The two forms are often used interchangeably, but there is a tendency to differentiate as follows: beside as a preposition mean- ing at the side of (in space) ; besides as a preposition meaning in addition to; and besides as an adverb meaning moreover. Between. Derived from a word meaning two (compare twain), between is properly used when only two persons or things are involved. For three or more, use among. Between may, however, be used of three or more when it indicates several distinct relations between pairs included in the larger number. Correct: "Some bad feehng arose between Great Britain, France, and Italy." But the idea is more precisely expressed thus: "Some bad feel- ing arose between Great Britain and France, and between France and Italy." But. (i) But with the meaning except is a preposition, followed by the objective case. Correct: "There was no one there but us." (2) But is superfluous before that in the expression no doubt that. But what after 710 doubt is ilhterate. (See No doubt that.) Can't seem. An illogical colloquialism. Undesirable: "We can't seem to understand each other." Better: "Apparently we can't understand each other," or, "We seem to be unable to understand each other." Could of, should of, would of. Illiterate blunders for could have, should Itave, would liave. Dangling participle, dangling gerund. A participle should not be used without a substantive, expressed in the sentence, to which it refers or 368 FRESHMAN RHETORIC belongs. Incorrect: "Crossing the street, a group of strikers was found standing in front of the factory." Correct: "Crossing the street, we (or, the poHcemen) found a group of strikers standing in front of the factorj'." The best usage extends the same rule to gerunds (verbal nouns in -ing), although in some cases exceptions may be defended. Undesirable: "After cleaning the shaft, it was replaced in the engine." Who cleaned the shaft? Better: "After cleaning the shaft, the mechanic replaced it in the engine," or, "After the shaft had been cleaned, it was replaced." Data. "These data are" — never "This data is." The word is the plural of datum, and means "things given." Widespread use of data as a singular noun has not altered the fact that it indicates an essentially plural idea — figures, materials, statistics, distinct items of information collected for a definite purpose. Deals. Should be followed by -mth, not by cm. Dickens's,Wells's . Proper names ending in 5 make the possessive usually by adding 's (pronounced as a separate syllable, as if spelled Dickens-es) . Sometimes, for euphony, such possessives are made by adding an apostrophe after the last letter of the name {Dickc7ts\ pronounced like the nominative). To place an apostrophe before the last letter of such a name (Dicken's) is about the stupidest and least excusable blunder in punctuation that any intelligent person can make. Different. Properly followed by from, not by than. Correct: "The situation is different now from what it was ten years ago," or, "The situation is different now from that which existed ten years ago." Incorrect: "The situation is different now than it was ten years ago." The usage in Great Britain is different to, seldom found in this country. Doubt. See No doubt that. Due to. Due is an adjective (except in referring to points of the com- pass — due north, due west.) Therefore it may be used only in the three ways in which an adjective is used: (i) as an attributive adjective before the substantive — "due process of law," "in due time;" (2) beginning an adjec- tive phrase following and modifying a substantive — "This delay, due to heavy storms, involved serious consequences;" (3) as a predicate adjective after the verb to be — "This delay, which was due to heavy storms, involved serious consequences." In other words, due, being an adjective, must stand in some grammatical relation to a noun expressed in the sentence. It is incorrect to use due to as introducing an ad\'crbial clause, modifying not a substantive but a vcib. Incorrect: "Due to heavy storms, llie ship was delayed." For an adverbial jihrasc indicating the cause of an action use one of the compoimd prcf)Ositions owing to, because of, on account of. Often, however, the simplest correction is to change the form of the sentence; e.g.: GLOSSARY 369 "The ship was delayed by heavy storms," or, "Heavy storms delayed the ship." Enormity. Enormity means monstrous wickedness; enormousness means monstrous size. Etc. This abbreviation should never be used of persons; it means "and other things." It should never be used in formal or literary Enghsh. In- correct: "The district was inhabited chiefly by Poles, Bohemians, Russians, etc." Omit etc., and insert and before Russians; or substitute for the abbre- viation some such phrase as "and other immigrants from central and eastern Europe." Every so often. A crude, provincial expression. Substitute such phrases as from time to time, now and then, at regular intervals, frequently; or, in colloquial English, every little while. Feel bad, badly. After fed use a predicate adjective, not an adverb. "I felt bad" is colloquially correct, meaning "My sensations were unpleas- ant." This might refer either to physical sensations or to emotions of sym- pathy or regret. "I felt very bad about it" — I felt sorry, not sorrowfully. The adverb badly after felt would mean "My sense of feeling was bad, mis- leading, inaccurate." Notice that in the correct expressions "I feel well," "I feel ill," the words ivell and /// are adjectives, not adverbs. Financial, pecuniary. Financial has to do with national, commercial, or large personal transactions involving considerable sums of money. It is incorrectly used of ordinary personal income and expenditure. Incorrect: "Financial reasons compelled him to leave college." Better: "Lack of money" or "Pecuniary difficulties." Former, latter. These words almost always cause some obscurity in a- sentence; or at least a vexatious delay on the part of the reader, who must look back in order to see which is which. Usually it is better to repeat the substantives. Repetition is never out of place when it aids clearness. Funny. Means ludicrous. Not to be used, even in coUoquial English, for strange, queer, odd, surprising, unless the situation is such as to suggest laughter. Farther, further. The words are often used interchangeably, but there is a tendency to restrict farther to the literal sense of greater 6i?,ta.nce, further to the figurative sense, additional. Fewer, less. Fewer is used of numbers ("not so many"), less of quan- tities ("not so much"). Correct: "Fewer workmen were employed, for there was less work to do." Incorrect: "We have less students than we had last year." Good, well. Good is an adjective; well may be either a predicate adjective or an adverb. From this correct double use of ivell arises, by a 370 FRESHMAN RHETORIC mistaken analogy, an incorrect and illiterate adverbial use of good. Illit- erate: "It runs just as good as it did before." (See Looks.) Got. Superfluous in such colloquial expressions as "I've got the money in my pocket." Better: "I have the money in my pocket." Got is correct in all cases in which the meaning oi acquired \s,^res,e.nt; e.g.: "We've got enough money already from these orders to pay for the trip." "I've got to" instead of "I have to" or "I must" is a well established colloquialism, though grammatically objectionable. When pronounced / gotta, it becomes hope- lessly vulgar. Gotten. This longer form of the participle is not to be preferred to got. A mistaken impression exists in many minds that the word got itself is in- elegant, arising doubtless from such superfluous uses of it as are mentioned in the preceding paragraph. Ground. Use "on the ground that" — not grounds, unless several dis- tinct points are named. Had of, had have, had 'a'. Illiterate blunders for luid. Had ought. An illiterate expression, usually concealed by the con- traction ol had too. mere 'd: " He'd ought to have known better." Hardly. Inasmuch as hardly conveys a negative idea, it is never to be used with not. Incorrect: "It wasn't hardly fair to him" (double negative). Help but. Help, when it means avoid, should be followed by a substan- tive as its direct object. Correct: "I could not help feeling that he was right." No but is required. The expression "could not help but feel", though found in some of the older writers, is not desirable, on the ground that the hut is superfluous and illogical, having been carried over from the dif- ferent expression, "I could not but feel." Honor bound. See In honor hound. However. Usually however does not stand at the beginning of a sentence or of a clause, but in a parenthetic position, between two commas. Correct: "If, however, you prefer the larger size, we can accommodate you." I don't think. This expression, condemned by some purists, is proper in colloquial English when followed by so or by an object clause. Correct: "I don't think he is likely to succeed." Those who object to this use of think are apparently unaware that the word means not only reflect, meditate, but also believe. Naturally, one does not write "I don't think" in formal com- position; the equivalent is: "In my opinion he is not likely to succeed." In back of. Though formed on the analogy of in front of, this expres- sion is, nevertheless, regarded as provincial and illiterate. Use behind or at the back of. Incident, incidence. An incident (plural incidents) is an event, an occurrence. Incidence (preceded by the, not Ijy an, and not used m the plural) GLOSSARY 371 is a technical term used in economics ("the incidence of taxation"), and in physics ("the angle of incidence"). See dictionary. In honor bound. Never omit the in. In regard to . Do not insert an 5 after regard. The phrase is a compound preposition, equivalent to about, concerning. An entirely distinct expression, not to be confused with in regard to, is the elliptical clause as regards. Cor- rect: "He has nothing to say as regards the appointment." Here regards is a transitive verb, having appointment as its direct object. .Inside, outside. No of is necessary after the prepositions inside and outside. Correct: "inside the house," "outside the barn." Its. The possessive case of pronouns takes no apostrophe. His, hers, its, ours, yours, theirs. Observe that the form it's is incorrect as a pronoun, correct as a colloquial contraction of it is. Kind of, sort of. (i) No article should follow these phrases. Correct: "a queer kind of day," "a strange sort of man." The reason why an indefi- nite article is incorrect here is that the nouns, day, man, are generic, not particular. (2) The common adverbial use of kind of, sort of, in the sense of rather, almost, somewhat, is illiterate. Incorrect: "I kind of thought we were Hkely to have trouble." "It got sort of twisted." Latter. See Former. Less. See Fewer. Liable, Ukely. Liable suggests unpleasant consequences; likely is neutral. Correct: "He is liable to fail." "You are liable to have an accident." Use likely except when some element of apprehension is implied. Like, as. Like is an adjective or an adverb, never a conjunction. Correct : "He looks like his father" (adjective). "He acts Uke a child" (adverb). Some grammarians, in order to explain the construction of father, child, without resorting to the expedient of supplying to after like, call like a prep- osition when used in such comparisons. Either interpretation is reasonable. But note that in all such provincial or dialectical expressions as, "He acts like he had lost something," the word is incorrectly used in place of the con- junctive phrase as if, and introduces an adverbial clause. This conjunctive use of like, though common among educated persons in some parts of the United States, is contrary to established Hterary usage. Listen. An intolerable imperative preface to conversation. Speakers who frequently begin their remarks with "Listen" stamp themselves as ill- bred. It is just as inane a way of beginning a sentence as "Say." Loan, lend. The use of loan as a verb is properly confined to large commercial transactions, and even in such cases is condemned by most English and some American authorities. The verb is lend. Correct: "He 372 FRESHMAN RHETORIC asked me to lend him a pencil." "I asked for the loan of his textbook." Looks well, looks bad. After looks, as after other verbs of sensation, a predicate adjective is required, not an adverb. Well in this case is a predicate adjective, meaning satisfactory, pleasing; bad is a predicate adjective with the opposite meaning. If /w/e5 iati sounds incorrect, test the syntax by- substituting another adjective. "It looks croo^ec/" (not "crookedly"). "It looks incomplete" (not "incompletely"). Observe that the slang expression looks good is not grammatically incorrect. One might say of a horse, "He looks good," meaning "He looks sound, strong;" or of a plan, "It looks good on paper," meaning "It looks like a good plan." But the expression has been so excessively and indiscriminately used that synonyms or paraphrases are to be preferred. (See Good.) More so. A crude substitute for the repetition, in the comparative de- gree, of a preceding adjective. Incorrect: "During the war these propa- gandists were bold enough, but now they are still more so." Substitute still bolder. Most. Alost is the superlative of much; it means "in the highest degree." As a juvenile or dialectical contraction of almost this word has come to be widely used, not only in colloquial English but in written composition as well, in such sentences as: "We read most as far to-day as we did yesterday." That is, properly speaking, "We read in the highest degree as far." Use almost or nearly. Never. Never, like only, should be placed immediately before or after the verb which it actually modifies; not illogically connected with some other verb in the sentence. Incorrect: "When he left New York, he never expected to return." Correct: "When he left New York, he expected never to return." No doubt that. After no doubt the correct construction is a noun clause, introduced by tluit, in apposition with doubt. Correct: "There is no doubt that he was present at the meeting." Avoid using but, but that, or but what after doubt. (See But.) Not . . . any, no. Use the adjective no instead of not followed by any. Crude: "They didn't have any money with them." Better: "They had no money with them." Not so, not as. After a negative, so is preferred to as. Correct: "He is as well as he was yesterday, but not so well as he was a week ago." Nowheres. Sec Anynchrrrs. O, oh. O is confined to direct address, and is not much used except in formal, oratorical, or poetical style. The spelling in ordinary writing is oh, not capitalized except at the beginning of a sentence. GLOSSARY 373 Off. Of is a preposition in such phrases as off the road, ojff the car, and should never be followed by of. Oftentimes. This word, based on the analogy of sometimes, and recog- nized in the dictionaries as in good usage, is nevertheless not to be preferred to often, which is half as long and means the same thing. Oftentimes seems almost to have superseded often in the vocabulary of many young writers and speakers, who wrongly suppose it to be more elegant. Ofttiines is archaic or rare. One of the. In nearly all sentences containing one of the . . . that, followed by a restrictive clause, the antecedent of the pronoun that is not one but the plural noun immediately preceding that; therefore the verb of the restrictive clause should be plural. Correct: "This was one of the clauses that were added by amendment." "It was one of the largest audiences that have ever been seen in this city." Only. Otily should be placed immediately before or after the word or phrase which it modifies. Incorrect: "They only paid six thousand for the house." "The speaker only made one reference to the matter during his whole address." Outside. See Inside. Participle, reference of. In a participial or a gerund phrase at the beginning of a sentence the participle or the gerund should refer to the subject of the sentence, not to some other substantive in the sentence, (nor to any unexpressed substantive — see Dangling participles). Incorrect: "Waiting at the station for my train, a man approached me." "Having resigned in February, the governor appointed him to another position early in March." "After giving the fellow my last dollar, a policeman told me he was a professional beggar." Passive constructions. English idiom prefers the active voice. Many awkward expressions and some glaring errors arise from the unnecessary use of passive verbs. Whenever grammatical puzzles appear in a sentence containing a passive verb, the easiest solution is to change to the active voice. For example, in the sentence, "He was given a purse of gold," the pronoun, which would be the indirect object in the active form, becomes the subject in the passive, and the direct object, pi(rse,is "retained." Some grammarians condemn all such sentences as incorrect; others regard them as idiomatic, though hard to parse. Careful writers avoid a frecjuent use of this construction. The best correction is not "A purse of gold was given to him," but rather "He received a purse of gold," or "Some of his friends gave him a purse of gold." People. People, used as a sort of indefinite plural for person, is proper when a considerable or unknown number is involved, but not when the 374 FRESHMAN RHETORIC number is kno\\'n to be small. Correct: "There were a good many people in the hall an hour before the meeting." Incorrect: "Only two or three people asked questions of the speaker." Use persons. Per. To be used only with another Latin word: per annum, per centum, per diem. Avoid per day, per week, per year. Use a. (See As per.) Plan. As an intransitive verb, plan should be followed by for and a substantive, or by lo and an infinitive; not by on. Correct: "We are plan- ning/or a reunion." "We are planning /o /wi'e a reunion." Incorrect: "We are planning on a reunion." Often it is best to use the verb transitively: "We are planning a reunion." Plenty. Plenty is a noun, to be followed by 0/ when another noun follows. Correct: "plenty of monej''," "plenty of time." It is never to be used with- out of, as if it were an adjective. The corresponding adjectives are plentiful, ample, abundant. Possessive before gerund. Before a verbal noun in -ing, commonly called a gerund, a pronoun must always be in the possessive case, not in the objective. Correct: "There was no possibility of his failing to see it." Logically a noun, likewise, should always take the possessive form before a gerund. Actual usage varies; short nouns usually take the possessive, whereas longer words, expecially long proper names and noun phrases, frequently omit the '5. Possessive of inanimate objects. In a few idiomatic phrases only, such as "a day's work," "a year's time," is the possessive case properly used of inanimate objects. Such phrases as "the road's surface," "the roof's dura- bility," arc not in good usage. Use of. Possessive of proper nouns in-s See Dickens's. F*refer. \\'hen prefer is followed by two nouns or gerunds set off against each other, the proper connective between the words is to, not tftan. Correct: "Most students prefer paddling to rowing." "The guides jjreferred tea to coffee." When the preference is expressed by the use of two infinitives, the proper connective is rather than, not tlmn alone. Correct: "Most students prefer to paddle rather than to row." Previous, previously. Previous is always an adjective, not an adverb. Correct: "The treaty was previous to the alliance." But, "The treaty was signed previously to (or before) the alliance." Correct: "The day previous to our departure was a busy one." But, "Before our departure we were very busy" (not previous to). Previous should not be used unless there is a noun in the sentence for it to modifj\ Proposition. The slang use of proposition ^as meaning an undertaking, an affair, is imsuilahlc in written English. See the dictionary for the correct meaning of the word. GLOSSARY 375 Proven. An irregular and anomalous substitute for />roi)e' the experiment of omitting these expressions in order to gain brevity and force. Their legitimate use is to throw the emphasis toward the end of the sentence, in such cases as the following: "There is many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip." "There is a sense in which this book is dangerous." "It is a long lane that has no turning." Till. Till means the same as witil, but is not a contraction of it; hence no apostrophe should be placed before it. Notice that //// has two I's, until only one. Too. Too never begins a sentence or a clause when it has the meaning moreover, besides. It is placed parenthetically, between two commas, after the first word or phrase, or sometimes at the end of the sentence. "For this reason, too, we must delay action." "They made good laws, and they enforced them, too." This use of too is chiefly colloquial; also, moreover, are more common in formal Enghsh. (See Then too.) Treats of. After treats use of, not on, when the meaning is concerns, deals -with. Correct: "The paragraph treats of the several kinds of corpora- tions." For other uses of treat see the dictionary. Notice these three partly parallel phrases, each with a different preposition: treats of, deals with, touches on. Try. Followed by to with the infinitive, not by and. United States, The. The definite article must always precede the name of the United States when used as a noun. Incorrect: "France and United States have long been friends." The article may be omitted only when the name of the country is used as an adjective. Correct: "United States soldiery enterpd JVfexico in the attempt to capture Villa." Up until. , Omit the up. Very, (i) Very is superfluous in at least three cases out of four. Try the experiment of cancelling it wherever it occurs in written English. It is seldom injUispensable except after not, and frequently adds no force whatever to the sentence. (2) Very is not ordinarily used alone to qualify past participles. "I should be much pleased (or very much pleased, not very pleased) to accom- pany you." "They seemed much interested" (or very much interested, not very interested). Way. As an adverb, way is a childish or dialectical contraction of away. 378 FRESHMAN RHETORIC It should never be used in such expressions as "He was way ahead of the rest of the party," "We saw him way up on the top of the hill." Write "far ahead;" "on the very top." Whereabouts. As a noun, wliereaboiits is singular. Correct: "His present whereabouts is unknown." While. While is either an adverb of time, meaning at the same time that, or a subordinating conjunction meaning though or whereas. It should not be used as if it were a coordinating conjunction, to join clauses equal in importance. Incorrect: "John Smith was appointed chairman of the committee, while Bill Jones was made secretary." Use and. In many cases this incorrect while can be best replaced by a period or a semicolon. Whom. This objective form can never be the subject of a finite verb, but only of an infinitive. Incorrect: "Jones is the man whom every one expects 'will he elected senator." The syntax of such a sentence should be clear to any intelligent person. Every one expects is a parenthetical clause having no grammatical relation to the rest of the sentence. The subject of will be elected cannot be Jones or man, and must therefore be the relative pronoun. Commas placed before and after the parenthetical clause make the syntax clearer; and an as inserted before every makes the clause an adverbial mochfier of the predicate. This extremely common error of making witom the subject of a finite verb arises from confusion with a different type of sentence in which the infinitive is used. Correct: "Jones is the man whom every one expects to be elected." Here whom with its accompanying infinitive is the object of expects. Why. Why has properly two meanings: (i) as an interrogative or relative adverb introducing a direct or indirect question; (2) as a colloquial interjection, at the beginning of a declarative sentence, implying hesitation, deliberation, or concession. Correct: "Was he there after four o'clock? Why, yes, I think he stayed till nearly five." The word is often improperly used in colloquial English, in the two following cases: (i) Students during a recitation period instinctively or automatically begin an answer to any question with the meaningless interjection why, even when no hesitation exists. It seems to be a sort of preliminary vocal exercise necessary before the sjjcaker can begin to say anything. A momen- tary pause for collecting one's thoughts is much to be preferred. (2) Why is superfluously and incorrectly inserted at the beginning of the second clause (ai)odosis) of a conditional sentence. Incorrect: "If you really want to know the facts, why you had better go and sec for yourself." Yes. The most abused word in the American language. Yeah, yeh, eh-ya, are lazy, slovenly substitutes for yes. The yeah habit is a bad habit, which stamps a speaker as too lazy to close his mouth. GLOSSARY 379 ADDITIONS TO GLOSSARY 38o FRESHMAN RHETORIC WORDS COMMONLY MISPRONOUNCED accurate {ak-yu-rate, not ak-er-ate) across (no filial / sound) acts (sound the /) address (stress second syllable, not first) adult (stress last syllable) aeroplane {a-er-o, not areo) allies (stress last syllable) Alma Mater {Mater rimes with laler) amateur (last syllable stressed, rimes with cur, not cure) American (e as in errand) and (always sound the d — e.g., men and women — 'not '«') at all (pronounced as spelled, not a tall) athletic (no vowel after ath-) because {-cause, not cuz) been {bin, not ben) believe (sound e in be-) biography (long /" as in biology) catch (not ketch) chauffeur (stress last syllable) children {-dren, not -dern) clothes (sound the -th) college {-lege, not -lige) comfortable (not comj'lable) correct (sound the o) curriculum (sound the u) data (o as in date) defect (stress last syllable only) despicable (stress first syllable only) dictionary (stress first syllable only, not third) different (three syllables) drama (first a as in father) due {u as in music) during {u as in music) duty (m as in tniisic) efficient (first syllable ef-, not e) England (jironouncc Ing-gland) entire (stress last syllable only) excess (stress last syllable only) extant (stress first syllable) PRONUNCIATION 381 facts (sound the t) family (sound the i) figure {figyure, not jigger) for (sound the 0, lightly when unaccented; never /er) foreign (two syllables) formidable (stress first syllable) generally (four syllables) gentlemen (sound the / and the last e) get {gd, not gil) going to (as spelled, not gond) got to (two / sounds and an o; not gotta) government (sound both n's) gradually (four syllables) has to (pronounce haz to, not hass to) have to (pronounce as spelled, not haf la) history (three syllables) hospitable (stress first syllable) hundred (not hunderd) ideal (three syllables) illustration (stress first and third syllables, not second) instead (not instid) institution {71 as in music) integral (stress first syllable, not second) interesting (sound both c's) introduce {in-tro-dyuce, not interdooce) introduction (intro- not inter-) irrelevant {ir-rcl-, not ir-rev) kept (sound the /) lamentable (stress first syllable) literature {Ut-er-a-tyurc or -chure, not litracher or -toor) naturally {nat-yu-ral-ly, or nach-yu-ral-ly, not nacherly) new (rimes with/cw) news (rimes with fuse) New York (as spelled, not N' Yawk) obligatory (stress first syllable) of (pronounced ov, not uv or of) often (/ is silent) opportunity {u as in music) or (sound the 0; not er; sink or swim, live or die, not sinker svnm, liver die) particular (as spelled, not p'tic'ler) poem (sound the e; not po-um) 382 FRESHMAN RHETORIC police (sound the 0) political (sound the 0) practically (four syllables) pretty (pronounce Pritty, not P'rty) precedence (stress second syllabic) principal (three syllables) probably (not prob'ly) program (a as in tdegram; not progrutri) realize (sound the a) really (sound the a) recognize (sound the g) regular (sound the 11) roof (00 as in moon) room {00 as in moon) school (rimes with tool; not schoo-ul) status (a as in state) student (styu-dent, not stoo-d'tii) subjects (not subjix) suitable (syool-able, not soot-) suppose (not s'pose) supposing (not s'pos'n) to (before vowels, long 00, before consonants, short 00; not la) tremendous (-dus, not -jus) tube (u as in music) Tuesday {u as in music) United States (sound the U) university (sound the i's; not unaversaty) used to (pronounce iized to, not yoosta) usually (sound the second u) valuable (sound the second a) very (e as in ferry; not vurry) victory (sound the 0) was (pronounce woz, not wuz) what (hwot, not wot) where {hware, not ware) whether {hwether, not wether) while {himle, not wile) white {Invite, not witt") with {th as in this, not in thin) yes (sound the s; not yeh or yeaJi) your {yoor, 00 as in took; not ycr) PRONUNCIATION 383 OTHER WORDS COMMONLY MISPRONOUNCED 384 FRESHMAN RHETORIC SPELLING RULES The following rules for spelling cover many cases in which errors are likely to arise : (i) Words of one syllable ending in a single consonant preceded by a short vowel commonly double the consonant before a sufl&x beginning with a vowel {rub, rubber; plan, planning; hop, hopping). (2) Words of more than one syllable ending in a single consonant pre- ceded by a short vowel commonly double the final consonant before a suffix beginning with a vowel when the accent is on the last syllable, but not otherwise {refer, referred, but o£er, offered; re/nit, remitted, but benefit, benefited) . (3) Words ending in silent e usually drop the e before a suffix beginning with a vowel, but never double the preceding consonant {plane, planing; hope, hoping; dine, dining; mritc, writing). The silent e is retained after c or g when necessary to indicate the soft sound of the consonant {noticeable, serviceable, manageable). WORDS COMMONLY MISSPELLED I accidentally 12 believe 2 accommodate 14 relieve 15 conceive 3 affect (verb, to modify) "^ 16 deceive 4 effcct(verb, to bring about) > 17 receive / (noun, a result) J 18 benefit 5 all right 19 coming 6 always 20 21 comparative definition 7 angel 1 22 deity 8 angle J 23 24 description dining 9 argument 25 disappear 10 athletic 26 disappoint II balance 27 eighth 12 beginning 28 embarras s SPELLING 385 29 existence 30 fascinating 31 finally 32 formally (in a formal manner) 33 formerly (in former times) ^ 34 forty 35 gauge 36 grammar 37 Great Britain 38 grievous 39 guard 40 harass 41 humorous 42 incidentally 43 independent 44 judgment 45 known 46 laboratory 47 lead (verb, to conduct) 48 lead (noun, a metal) 49 led (past tense of lead) 50 loose (not tight) 51 lose (to be deprived of, to miss) 52 Macaulay (the historian) 53 magazina 54 miscellaneous 55 mysterious 56 ninety 57 occasion 58 occasionally 59 cccurred 60 original 61 oerform 62 planing 63 planning 64 precede 65 proceed 66 preparation 67 principal (adjective, lead-' ing; noun, head of school) 68 principle (noun, funda- mental law) 69 privilege 70 professor 71 prove 72 psychology 73 quiet (calm) 74 quite (entirely) 75 recognize 76 recommendation 77 referred 78 religious 79 repetition 80 rhetoric 81 safety 82 separate 83 Shelley (the poet) 84 similar 85 sophomore 86 stretch 87 studying 88 supersede 89 surprise 90 technical 91 Thackeray (the novelist) 92 their (possessive) 93 there (adverb) 94 to (preposition) 95 too (adverb) 96 tragedy 97 truly 98 till 99 until 100 writing 386 FRESHMAN RHETORIC OTHER WORDS SOMETIMES MISSPELLED BY THE OWNER OF THIS BOOK INDEX The references are to pages. Abbreviation, 13; in business letters, 175; in formal social notes, 187. Address, in business letters, 175; in formal social notes, 185-186. After-dinner speeches, 170-171. Agreement, grammatical, errors in, 197-199. Agreement, points of, in argumenta- tion, 218-220. A. L. A. Book List, 133. A. L. A. Catalogue, 133. , All during, 365. All right, 201, 365. Along this line, 365. Alterations in manuscript, 13-14. Analogy, argument from, 248-249. Analysis, in exposition , 2 1-33, 68-78 ; in argumentation, 208-224; proof arising from, 237-240. And, e.Kcessive use of, 46-47, 200; comma before, in series, 51. And uhich, 365. Anniversary speeches, 172-173. Antecedents, 365. Antonyms, 284. Anxious, 365. Any, with not, 376. Any place, 366. Anywheres, ;i66. Appositive phrase, punctuation of, 50- Argumentation, 205-250; not to be confused with exposition, 66-67. Arrangement of outline, 28. Article, repeated in series, 366. As, after don't knou<, 199, 366; for such as, 366; causal use, 366. As much if not more, 366. As per, 366. As though, 366. As well as, 366. Athletics, reporting of, 355-356. Atlases, 119. Authority, argument from, 231-232. Autobiography, 7-9. Auxiliaries, 189-194. Awfully, 367. Balanced sentences, 103-104. Beside, besides, 367. Between, 367. Bibliography, form for, 129-130; of periodical references, 139-140. Biographical dictionaries, 116-117. Biography, theme subjects from, 343-346. Book List, The A. L. A., 133. Book Review Digest, I33-I34. 387 388 INDEX Book-reviews, 291-299. Book titles, il. Books, selection of, 130-134. Brief, form of, 245-247. Burden of proof, 225-227. Business letters, 175-182. Bui, after doubt, 199,367; as prep- osition, 367. Can't seem, 367. Capitalization 12-13. Cards, for outlines for oral exposi- tion, 34-37; for bibliography, 129-130, 139-140; for library notes, 141-144. Catalogue, card, 120-125. Classification, library, 125-128. Clause, distinguished from sentence, 42-44; dependent, 44, 48-50; descriptive and restrictive, punc- tuation of, 50; complex, 54-55; compound, 55-57- Coherence, in outline, 32; in sen- tence, 61-62; in paragraph, 94-96; in business letters, 177; in naria- tion, 332; in news writing,353-354. College journalism, 347-359. College spirit, analysis of, 68-79. Colloquial English, 189-204. Color, in description, 308-309. Comma, wrong use of in compound sentence, 45; before descriptive clause, 50; wrongly used before restrictive clause, 50; with apposi- tive phrase, 50; with parenthetical expression, 51; separating last members of series before and, 51 ; with participial phrase, 51 ; un- necessary commas, 51 ; incorrect commas, 52. Commonplace, elimination of, 20, 76. Complex sentence, 48-50; punctua- tion of, 50; with compound clauses, 55-57; in colloquial Eng- lish, 194-197. Compound sentence, 43; distin- guished from simple sentence, 45; unity of, 45; clauses coordinate in meaning, 46-47; punctuation of, 48; with .complex clauses, 54, 55; in colloquial English, 194-197. Conclusion, in exposition, 157-158; in argumentation, 245; in news writing, 35-2-353- Congratulatory speeches, 172. Conjunctions, errors in use of, 199-200. Connotation of words, 279-280; in description, 311-314. Contentions, in argumentation, 214- 217. Conversation, 202-204. Coordinating conjunctions, punc- tuation before, 48. Could of, 367. Criticism, literary, 291. Cutter's Expansive Classification, 126. Dangling gerund, 367. Dangling participle, 367. Data, must be followed by plural verb, 368. Dates, 12. Deals, should be followed by with, not by on, 368. Decimal Classification, Dewey's, 126-127. Deductive reasoning, 236-237. INDEX 389 Definition, in argumentation, 212- 214; in word-study, 275-277. Denotation of words, 279. Dependent clause, 48-49; standing alone, 44; three kinds of, 49; punctuation of, 50. Description, 301-317. Descriptive clause, punctuation of, 50- Development of outline, 29, 77-78. Dewey Decimal Classification, 126- 127. Dialogue in story-telling, 323; in story-writing, 335-336. Diction, in colloquial English, 201. Dictionaries, 109-111, 258, 282. Different than, 200, 368. Division of subject, 26-28, 77-79, 155-156. Doublets, in word-study, 284-285. Due to, 60, 368. Editorial writing, 358-359- Emphasis, in outline, 32; in sen- tence, 60-61 ; in paragraph, 96-99; in words, 285; in narration, 332- 333; in news writing, 352-353- Encyclopedias, 111-116. English history, theme subjects from, 340-342- EngHsh language, relations of, 259- 261. Enormity, 369. Enthymeme, in argumentation, 234- Errors, in colloquial English, 197- 201, 365-378; in pronunciation, 380-382; in spelling, 384-385- Etc., 369. Etymology, 256-274. Eulogistic speeches, 173. Every so often, 369. Evidence, 227-230. Expansive Classification, Cutter's, 126. Exposition, 1-2; of a simple subject, 16-40; of principles and opinions; 64-80; five principles of, 79; paragraphs in, 81-99; sentence, in, 100-104; based on reading, 149-155- Fact, questions of, 206-208. Fallacies, 247-249. Farther, 369. Feature stories, in news writing, 356-357- Feel, followed by predicate adjective, not by adverb, 369. Fewer, 369. Fiction writing, 322-336. Financial, misuse of, 369. For, in reasoning, 232. Former, 369. Funny, 369. Gerund, dangling, 367. Gesture, in oral exposition, 38-39. Glossary of common errors, 365- 378. Good, never an adverb, 369. Got, 194, 370; gotten, 370. Greek element in English, 271-274. Ground, on the ground that, 370. Had of, had have, 370. Had ought, 370. Handwriting, 10. Hardly, not to be used with negative 370. 390 INDEX Head, in news writing, 350. Help, not to be followed by but, 370. Historical narration, 338-340. However, position of, 370. I dont think, 370. //, omission of, 48. Imagination, in description, 302- 305; in historical writing, 338- 339- In back of, 200, 370. Indo-European roots, 266-267. Inductive reasoning, 236-237. Infinitive, not to be split unneces- sarily, 376. In honor bound, 371. In regard to, 371. Inside, no 0/ necessary after, 371. Interest, in exposition, 19-20, 40, 149-150; in argumentation, 237- 240; style as a means of promot- ing, 254; in book-reviews, 291- 293; in description, 302-307; in short stories, 325. Interpretation of literature, 291-299. Interviews, 357-358. Introduction, in exposition, 76-77, 156-157; in argumentative brief, 245- Inventory, mental, 21-26, 67-75. Invitations, written, 185-186. Irrelevant points, in exposition, 75-76; in argumentation, 217-218. Issues, in argumentation, 221-222. Italics, uses of, 11. Its, no apostrophe, 371. Journalism, college, 347-359- Kind of, adverbial use of, 371. Languages, names of, capitalized, 13. Latin element in English, 267-271. Latter, 369. Lead, in news writing, 351. Legibility, 10. Less, not to be used iox fewer, 371, Letter- writing, 175-188. Liable, incorrect use of, 371. Library, use of, 108-145; regulations, 108-109; use of catalogue, 120- 125; classification, 125-129. Library of Congress, catalogue cards, 123; classification, 126; bibliographies, 135. Like, adverbial use of, 371. Listen, improper use of, 371. Literature,interpretationof, 291-299. Loan, improper use of, 371. Looks, followed by predicate adjec- tive, 372. Loose sentence, 100. Magazines, see periodicals. Major premise, 233-234. Manuscript, 10. Mental inventory, 21-26, 67-75. Minor premise, 233-234. Mispronounced words, 380-382 Misspelled words, 384-385. Money, writing sums of, 12. More so, incorrect use of, 372. Most, not to be used for almost, 372. Motion in description, 307-308. Motives for composition, 19. Narration, fictitious, 322-335; his- torical and biographical, 338-346; news writing, 347-359- Never, position of, 372. News writmg, 347-359- INDEX 391 No doubt, not to be followed by but, 372. Nominating speeches, 171-172. Not any, 372. Not so, not as, 372. Notes, in oral exposition, 34-37; library, 141-144; use of, 152-153. Nffioheres, 366. Numbering of outline, 31. Numbers, expression of, 12. O, oh, 372. Odor, in description, 310-31 1. Off, not followed by of, 373. OJleniimes, excessive use of, 373. One of the, error in sentences con- taining, 198-199. 373- Only, position of, 373. Opinion, questions of, 2o6-2c8; not proof, 230-232. Oral exposition, outlines for, 34-37; suggestions for, 37; distribution of time in 38; gesture in, 38-39; criticism of, 39-40; speeches fcr special occasions, 168-174; story- telling, 323-324- Outlines, in exposition, 20-33, 67-79, 158-162; in argumentation, 241- 247. Overworked words, 286-287. Paragraph, indication of, 14; defini- tion of, 33; length of, 33, 82; unity of, 34, 81-82; development of, 85-93; single, 94; coherence in, 94-96; emphasis in, 96-99; in long essay, 159-162; in busi- ness letter, 181; in story writing, 331-332 ; in news writing, 352-354. Parallel structure, 57-58. Parenthetical expression, punctua- tion of, 51. Participial phrase, punctuation of, 51- Participle, dangling, 367; reference of, to subject of sentence, 373. Passive constructions, 373. People, incorrectly used for persons, 373- Periodic sentence, loi. Periodicals, indexes to, 135-138; value of, 138-139; bibliography of , 139-140. Phrase, distinguished from sentence, 44; absolute phrase, punctuation of, 44; phrase standing alone, 44; participial, punctuation of, 51. Plagiarism, 144. Plan, not to be followed by on, 374. Plenty, not to be used as adjective, 374- Plots, in short stories, 325-330. Poole's Index to Periodical Litera- ture, 136. Possessive, of proper nouns ending in J-, 368 (Dickens's); before ger- und, 374; of inanimate objects, 374- Potential verb-phrases, 193-194. Predicate, no comma before, 52; in expository outline, 29, 79. Prefer, not to be followed by than, 374- Premises, in reasoning, 233. Previous, not to be used adverbially, 374- Principles and opinions, exposition of, 64-80. Pronunciation, 3-4, 40, 380-382. Proof, 224-225; burden of, 225-227. 392 INDEX Proper names, capitalization of, 12-13- Proposition, incorrect use of, 374. Proven, not a desirable substitute for proved, 222, 375. Public documents, 134-135. Question, statement of, in argumen- tation, 209-212. Quite n few, incorrect use of, 375. Quotation marks, 11. Readers^ Guide to Periodical Litera- ture, 136-139. Reader's point of view, in exposition, 19, 77; in argumentation, 237-240. Reason, followed by that, not by because, 375. Reasoning, 232-237. Reference books, general, use of, 109-120. Refutation, 240-241. Regard, in regard to, as regards, 201. Remember, not to be followed by of, 375- Restrictive clause, punctuation of, 50. Rroerend, not to be used with sur- name alone, 375. Revision, 14; in description, 315- 316; in short story, 335-336- Round, not a contraction of around, 375- Seldom if ever, 375. Self-criticism, 163-166. Semicolon, in compound sentence, 48- Sense-impressions, in description, 307-311. Sentence,4i-63; distinguished from clause, 42-44; compound, 43,45- 47; use of so in, 47-48 ; variety in form cf, 100; loose, 100; periodic, lOi; balanced, 103-104; in collo- quial English, 194- 197. Shall and will, should and would, 5, 190-192. Short stories, study of, 324-326. Should of, 367. .Slang, 201-202. So, e.xcessive use of, 47-48, 324, 375; not to be used for very, 375. Social letters, 185-187. Sotne, not to be used adverbially, 376. Somebody else's, 376. Some place, 366. Sonievheres, 366. Sound in description, 309-310. Speeches for special occasions, 168- 174. Spelling, 14, 384-385- Split infinitive, 376. Story, the short, 322-336. Structure, parallel, 57. Style, 252-256. Subjects for themes, for short ex- positions, 16-19, 64-66; for essays based on reading, 145-147; for business letters, 182-185; for argumentation, 210-21 1, 223-224; for description, 318-320; for stories, 327-329; for historical essays, 340-342; for biographical essays, 343-346; for news writing 355> 357- Subjunctive, 192-193. Subsequent, not to be used adverb- ially, 376. INDEX 393 Syllogism, 233-234. Synonyms, 277-278, 281-284. Syntax, of colloquial English, 194- 199; errors in, 365-378- Take, incorrect use of, 376. Taste, in description, 309. Than, syntax after, 376. Then too, excessive use of, 376. There being, awkward use of, 376. There is, excessive use of, 377. Till, not a contraction of until, 377. Titles, II. Too, position of, 377. Touch, in description, 309. Treats, followed by of, 377. Try, not to be followed by and, 377. Typewriter, use of, 22-31. United States, must be preceded by the, 377. Unity, in outline, 32; in expository paragraph, 34, 81-82; in business letter, 176-177; in narrative para- graph, 331-332- Up, superfluous before until, 277- Usage, good, in words, 257-258, 274-275- Very, superfluous use of, 377; not to be used alone with passive participles, 377. Vocabular} , enlargement of, 287- 289. Voice, in oral expo^'tion, 40. Waived points, 219. Way, incorrect adverbial use of, 377- Whereabouts, followed by singular verb, 378. WIdle, error in use of, 199-200, 378. Whom, cannot be subject of finite verb, 378. Why, incorrect use of, 378. Witnesses, in argumentation, 228- 230. Words, study of, 252 -289. Woidd of, 367. Yearbooks, 11 7-1 19. Yes, 3, 378. OF f ' ' ' '"V' '^p ' -•■ ^ 3 1158 00576 6950 UC SOUTHERN RFGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY AA 000 352 142 4 SOUTH!=' UNlVERSn LOS