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To renew call Telephone Center, 333-8400 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN L161— 0-1096 / REMOTE STORAGE THE MOTHER TONGUE Book III ELEMENTS OF ENOLISH COMPOSITION BY JOH:Nr HAYS GAEDIHEE Assistant Professor of English in Harvard University GEORGE LYMAN KITTREDGE Professor of English in Harvard University AND SARAH LOUISE ARNOLD Dean of Simmons College, formerly Supervisor of Schools in Boston ^ Boston, U.S.A., and London GINN & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS Cbe ^[tbenseum 1902 Entered at Stationers’ Hall Copyright, 1902, by J, H. Gardiner, G. L. Kittredge, and S. L. Arnold ALL rights reserved PREFACE. The present volume, which has been prepared in response to the wish of many teachers, observes throughout the principle fol- lowed in Books I and II of the same series : it considers language in its relation to thought and the expression of thought. Like the previous volumes, it is practical rather than theoretical. It connects the subject of composition with the experiences of f everyday life, on the one hand, and, on the other hand, with the study and appreciation of literature. The plan of the book, though simple and transparent, is novel in some respects, and may justify a word of explanation. Part I is in itself an elementary manual of composition. It sets forth, in plain terms, the object and method of the study ; it ^ discusses words, sentences, and paragraphs ; it explains and illus- ^ trates the principles of unity, variety, emphasis, and transition ; ^ it treats of the selection and arrangement of material ; and it gives abundant practice in writing letters and brief essays. It ‘^may be used by younger or older classes, according to the grading of the pupils and the amount and character of their previous train- " ing in English ; and it is well adapted to the purposes of a review or general survey of the subject in preparation for the systematic - study of the Forms of Discourse in Part II.^ Thus Part I affords ^ a means of transition from one stage of progress to another and ^ enables the pupil to begin his more advanced work in composition with a firm grasp on the first principles of the art and consider- able facility in applying them. 1 For a further statement of the different ways in which Part I may he utilized, see Suggestions to Teachers, p. xiv. iii VI PREFACE. Dr. Van Dyke ; to Messrs. Longmans, Green & Co. for an ex^tract from Mr. Weyman ; and to The Century Company for Mr. Riis’s anecdote of John Binns. Extracts from Hawthorne are used by permission of Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin & Co., publishers of the works of that author. Particular acknowledgment is due to Professor W. F. M. Goss, of Purdue University, who has not only allowed the authors to reprint a chapter from his recent treatise on ‘‘Locomotive Sparks'' (New York, John Wiley & Sons), but has given them liberty to adapt it to their purpose by a slight simplification of technicalities. The story of • “ Rumpelstiltskin " is taken from the excellent translation of Grimm by Margaret Hunt (London, George Bell & Sons). § CONTENTS, INTRODUCTION. PAGE Suggestions to Teachers ........ xiii PART I. ELEMENTS OF COMPOSITION. The Uses of Composition \ 3 Specimens of Simple Narrative ...... 8 The Subject of a Composition ...... 17 Subjects and Titles 19 Selection of Material ....... 21 Arrangement of Material ....... 25 Choice of Words ........ 29 Synonyms 34 Antonyms 37 The Sentence as a Unit ....... 42 Variety and Smoothness ....... 45 Variety in Sentences ........ 47 Condensed Expressions 51 Variety and Emphasis 57 Methods of Emphasis ........ 58 Effectiveness of Sentences ........ 61 Paragraphs .......... 62 Transition 71 Oral Composition ....... 73 Letter- Writing . . . . . . . . . 11 ^ The Parts of a Letter 80 Friendly Letters . 85 Business Letters ^ 88 ' vii Vlll CONTENTS. PAGE Invitations and Replies 92 Business Transactions 95 Telegrams 99 Announcements 101 Advertisements .......... 103 PART II. THE FORMS OF DISCOURSE. Two Kinds or Composition ....... 107 The Forms of Discourse ....... 109 Clearness of Thought HO Adaptation to the Reader HO Narration HI Narratives and Stories 122 Story-Telling 124 Action in Story-Telling . 124 The Point of a Story 128 The Outline of a Story ........ 129 Introduction in Story-Telling 131 Introduction Omitted 132 Conclusion of a Story I34 First Person in Narration 136 Conversation in Stories 138 Conversation Reporting Action 139 Conversation Condensed ....... 139 Material for Stories ....... 141 Significance of Details 142 Complication of Plot . . . . . . . 144 The Narrative in Literature 147 Exercises in Narration ....... 152 Description ......... 157 Description and Explanation ...... 163 Pictures and Descriptions 164 Sensations in Description 167 Advantages of Description 169 Description of a Place . , . . . . 172 CONTENTS. ix PAGE The Time in Descriptions ...... . . . 173 Comparison in Description ..... 179 Description of Persons . 181 Character in Description ..... 183 Description not an Inventory . 187 Description in Stories 189 Action in Description ...... . 191 The Central Point in a Description 192 Exercises in Description 194 Explanation ....... 199 Importance of Explanation . . ' . . 211 The Nature of Explanation 211 Notes for an Outline or Plan 214 The Key-Sentence 215 Arrangement of Topics ...... . 216 The Introduction in Explanations .... 218 Transition . 219 Examples in Explanation ..... 221 Explanation by Comparison ..... . 222 The Use of Diagrams 223 Liveliness in Explanation ..... . 224 The Conclusion in Explanations .... 225 Explanatory Description . 226 Explanation in Recitations 227 Explanation in Written Tests . 228 Explanation in Conversations .... 229 Abstracts or Summaries 230 Exposition of Character ..... 231 Conclusion of Explanation . 232 Exercises in Explanation 234 Criticism . . . 241 Argument ........ 244 Three Kinds of Argument . 245 Arguments of Pact 247 Arguments of Theory or Principle .... . 248 Arguments of Policy ...... 249 X CONTENTS. PAGE Persuasion ........ 251 The Form of an Argument . . . . . • • 253 Refutation 254 Debates ... . 255 Briefs for Arguments .258 PART III. PARAGRAPHS, SENTENCES, WORDS. Paragraphs .......... 263 Unity of the Paragraph . . . . . . . . 264 Means of Securing Unity 265 Means of Indicating Unity 266 Close of the Paragraph 267 Transition .......... 268 Transition in Sentences 270 Coherence 272 Exercises in Paragraphs 273 Sentences 275 Why Variety is Requisite 275 How Sentences Develop Variety . . . . . .277 Kinds of Sentences 279 Simple Sentences ......... 280 Use of Compound Sentences 281 Abuse of Compound Sentences ....... 282 Complex Sentences 285 Emphasis in Complex Sentences 287 Chains of Relatives ........ 288 Variety in Sentences 288 Antithesis 290 Balanced Sentences ......... 292 Climax 293 Parallel Structure 295 Periodic Sentences 296 Punctuation of Sentences 299 Exercises in Sentences , . 301 CONTENTS. XI PAGE Choice of Words . . . 303 The Standa^ of Usage 304 Modern Usage 305 Words not in Good Use . . . . . . . 307 Poetical Language 308 Foreign Words 308 Colloquial Language and Slang 310 General Principles of Choice ...... 312 Correctness . .315 Technical Terms 316 Precision . 318 Aids to Precision 320 Appropriateness ......... 322 Special Questions of Appropriateness . . . . . 325 Expressiveness 326 General and Specific Words 329 Figures of Speech . . . . . . . . . 330 Similes and Metaphors 332 Persot^ification and Apostrophe 335 The Use of Figures of Speech 337 Conciseness .......... 338 Repetition 340 Means of Increasing one\s Vocabulary ..... 343 Clearness 345 Selections . 346 Supplementary Exercises ....... 357 APPENDIX. Common Errors in Composition 383 Rules for Capital Letters 391 Rules of Punctuation 392 Business Forms 398 Prosody 401 Index ........... 419 X CONTENTS. PAGE Persuasion .... . , . . 251 The Form of an Argument . 253 Refutation .......... 254 Debates ... . 255 Briefs for Arguments . 258 PART III. PARAGRAPHS, SENTENCES, WORDS. Paragraphs 263 Unity of the Paragraph 264 Means of Securing Unity 265 Means of Indicating Unity 266 Close of the Paragraph 267 Transition 268 Transition in Sentences 270 Coherence 272 Exercises in Paragraphs 273 Sentences . . . . . . . . . .275 Why Variety is Requisite 275 How Sentences Develop Variety 277 Kinds of Sentences ........ 279 Simple Sentences ......... 280 Use of Compound Sentences 281 Abuse of Compound Sentences 282 Complex Sentences . . . . . . . . 285 Emphasis in Complex Sentences ...... 287 Chains of Relatives ........ 288 Variety in Sentences 288 Antithesis .......... 290 Balanced Sentences ......... 292 Climax ........... 293 Parallel Structure 295 Periodic Sentences ........ 296 Punctuation of Sentences 299 Exercises in Sentences 301 CONTENTS. XI PAGE Choice of Words ....... 303 The Standaiji of Usage 304 Modern Usage 305 Words not in Good Use . 307 Poetical Language 308 Foreign Words 308 Colloquial Language and Slang 310 General Principles of Choice ...... 312 Correctness . .315 Technical Terms 316 Precision 318 Aids to Precision 320 Appropriateness 322 Special Questions of Appropriateness 325 Expressiveness 326 General and Specific Words ....... 329 Figures of Speech . . . . . . . . . 330 Similes and Metaphors ........ 332 Perso^ifiTcatioii and Apostrophe ...... 335 The Use of Figures of Speech 337 Conciseness 338 Repetition 340 Means of Increasing one’s Vocabulary ..... 343 Clearness 345 Selections ......... . 346 Supplementary Exercises ....... 357 APPENDIX. Common Errors in Composition ...... 383 Rules for Capital Letters 391 Rules of Punctuation 392 Business Forms 398 Prosody 401 Index 419 INTKODUCTION. SUGGESTIONS TO TEACHEKS. THE OBJECTS IN VIEW. A COURSE in composition should accomplish two results : it should enable the pupil to make his thought clear to others, and it should develop his apprecmtion of good literature. These two objects have determined the plan and the contents of the present book. In both text and exercises the pupil’s own experience is kept in view, and he is shown how to utilize it for the purposes of composition. He is encouraged to find material in his favorite reading, in his games, and in the life and occupations with which he is familiar. The examples and the exercises cover a wide field, and admit of selection and of adap- tation to the needs of the individual. Thus the chasm which ordinarily separates study from actual experience may be effectu- ally bridged. At the same time, the plan of the book ensures a growing appreciation of literature. A large number of selections have been provided as models, and these are made the basis of both critical study and constructive exercises. There are also abundant references to the best writers and many observations which will guide the pupil in his reading. ^ In this way the necessary and intimate connection between practice in composition and the study and enjoyment of good literature is brought home to the pupil’s mind. 1 See, for example, “Literature,” “Poetry,” “Prose,” in the Index, xiii XIV INTRODUCTION. 1 PLAN or THE BOOK. The plan of the book is shown in the Table of Contents. The work is divided into three parts. Part I makes a preliminary survey of the whole subject. The immature student is not ready for an exhaustive treatment of the more advanced principles until he has had some training in thosa which are more elementary. In this Part, therefore, the simpler kinds of composition are treated, with abundant practice in the choice of words, the construction of sentences and para- graphs, and the writing of letters and brief essays. Such a gen- eral survey gives perspective and a sense of proportion, and thus enables the pupil to proceed intelligently to the more detailed study required in Parts II and III. Further, experience has shown that most classes need to review the elements of composition before entering upon more advanced work. Part I provides for such a review. If the class is homo- geneous and has been well prepared, the review may be brief and summary. If, on the other hand, the preliminary English course has been fragmentary and meagre, or if the pupils vary a good deal in their acquirements, the review must be thorough and systematic. Under such circumstances, a whole year may well be devoted to Part I. Part II treats of the longer forms of composition, — narration, description, explanation, and argument. These four ‘‘forms of discourse are presented in a simple, logical manner, with a great variety of analytical and constructive exercises. The practical needs of everyday life are kept constantly in view, and the work of the pupil is brought into the closest relation both with his own experience and with his study of literature.^ Explanation (or exposition) is discussed with unusual fulness, and the sub- ject is developed in accordance with a method which experience has shown to be productive of the best results. The pupil is trained to apply the principles of exposition in preparing for his 1 See, for example, pp. 107-9, 128, 114-51, 108-71, 180, 185, 241-3, INTRODUCTION. XV ordinary recitations and to follow them in the practical affairs of life. A special section on literary criticism is also included in this Part. Part III is the logical complement of Part II. It deals with the main principles of rhetorical technique, — paragraphing, sen- tence structure, and the choice of words. These subjects have already been discussed, in an elementary way, in Part I, but the pupil is now prepared to study them in greater detail and with keener discrimination. Particular pains has been taken to make clear the true bearing of all these principles. They are presented, not as dogmas, but as rules of reason, dependent for their cogency on their proved usefulness in the expression of thought.^ USE OF THE SELECTIONS AND THE EXERCISES. A work on composition must provide two sorts of material : the text should explain the principles of composition ; the exer- cises should illustrate and apply those principles. The author of the text is responsible for the presentation of the new truth to the pupil ; but he can merely indicate that most vital element, the application of the principle in study and practice. The direction of this work necessarily falls upon the teacher. In the present book the authors have had in mind a clear-cut plan for the use of the illustrative exercises. This plan is in harmony with the working of the student’s mind, as well as with the natural development of the subject. The cooperation of the teacher is, however, indispensable if the best results are to be secured. Illustrative selections from good writers accompany each divi- sion of the book. These should first be studied for their intrinsic interest, before the succeeding sections are read, and should after- wards be scrutinized, in connection with the study of the text, as illustrations of the principles set forth. Thus the concrete 1 See, for example, the sections on the principles of choice in words (pp. 312-30) and the definition of the standard of usage (x)p. 304-7). XVI INTRODUCTION. / example will make the text plain, and conscious analysis will impress the principle involved. The next step should be the construction of original examples to illustrate the principles laid down in the text. Here the selected examples which have been analyzed will serve as models, but they should not be too closely followed. The important point is that the pupil, by consciously applying in the construc- tive exercises the principles expounded in the text, should dis- cover that these principles are indispensable guides in his own familiar speech and writing. The more closely the exercises are associated with the actual experience of the pupils, the more effect will the principle have in directing their spoken and written English. Comparison and criticism of the written exercises should follow. This practice is far more real to the pupils than the criticism of a classic selection which comes to them as a finished product ; for they have seen their own composition in the making, and it deals with their own experiences or with some subject with which they are already familiar. Individual con- struction and class criticism should therefore predominate over critical study and analysis of the models. After the pupils have applied the principles in their own writ- ing and have become consciously critical of the compositions pre- pared in the class, they are ready for the critical study of other illustrations found in books. It should be remembered, however, that the power to construct is more valuable than the critical faculty. The latter should be cultivated chiefly as a test of one’s own writing, and as conducive to a keener enjoyment of good literature. The order of study may be summarized as follows : — 1. Reading the illustrative selections for their own sake. 2. Study of the text, with constant reference to the models for illustration. 3. Constructive exercises, to apply the principles laid down in the text. INTRODUCTION. xvii 4. Study and criticism of written exercises. 5. Search for other illustrations to which the principles may be applied. 6. Critical study of illustrations, as a help in securing a standard of judgment. A considerably larger number of selections has been provided than is actually necessary in any one place. There are two objects in this : — first, the variety of the selections should make it clear to pupils that the principles laid down in the text are not arbitrary laws, but are founded on observed facts and justified by the practice of good writers ; and secondly, the number of selections affords the teacher a readily accessible store of examples for the illustration of each lesson. VARIETY IN EXERCISES. In the use of the exercises, the importance of variety should never be forgotten. Long essays, and lessons requiring careful preparation, should alternate with oral tests or with practice in , extempore writing and speaking. Thus, in the study of words, a single lesson may call for frequent reference to the Dictionary and involve two or three hours of continuous application. Such a lesson should be followed by a brisk oral exercise. For exam- ple, a list of words may be given to one pupil, and to another the names of the members of the class, written on separate cards. The first pupil may then read the first word in his list, and the second pupil the name on the first card ; the person whose name is called should respond at once, using the word correctly in a well-constructed sentence. These word-matches keep the class on the alert and cultivate promptitude in thought and speech. CLASS CRITICISM. Every pupil sets a high value on the opinions of his associates. The teacher’s corrections are a part of the school routine ; those of a classmate seem real and practical. It is well, therefore, to xviii INTRODUCTIOISr. let the pupils criticise each other’s essays. Exchanges between schools may also be arranged on the following plan : — Two classes of equal rank write on the same subject, with defi- nite regulations and a fixed limit of length. The essays are not signed, but are marked with a letter or number. Each pupil corrects a composition from the other school. He should mark the paper carefully, giving a general estimate of its qualities, indicating specific errors, and suggesting improvements. The essays are returned and are read before the class, along with the criticism, which is then discussed. This plan has proved remarkably successful wherever it has been tried. The personal element is removed, and pupils who give slight heed to ordinary class criticism respond promptly to the unbiased judgment of an outsider. Such exchanges should be made at least three times a year wherever the conditions are favorable. DAILY THEMES. The training acquired in writing occasional essays may well be supplemented by practice in daily themes.” These should not exceed a paragraph or two in length. They should be carefully criticised, but not rewritten unless they betray carelessness in spelling, punctuation, or handwriting. If a subject is inadequately treated, it is better to let the pupil try again on another occasion. The subjects of daily themes should be as varied as possible and should ordinarily be chosen by the pupil. He should be led to see the interest and significance of little things and common- place occurrences. One day he may be directed to give special attention to sounds ; another day, to colors ; another, to move- ments, — and so on, until he observes such details spontaneously. Sometimes the theme may be a description or a story, sometimes an explanation, sometimes an expression of opinion or feeling. Once or twice a week it is well to select a subject from the pupil’s other studies, — an incident from history, the description of an experiment, a piece of translation. INTRODUCTION. XIX Whatever the subject, special attention should be given to unity; the pupil should be required to make a single point, or to produce a single effect, within the limit of space assigned to the composition. TRANSLATION. The study of foreign languages exerts a powerful influence, for good or evil, on the pupil’s English. Slovenly habits of transla- tion will inevitably react on his original composition. On the other hand, patient search for the right word will enlarge his vocabulary, and experiments in arrangement will both increase his respect for the English idiom and lend smoothness and flexi- bility to his style. When a difficult idiom occurs in a foreign writer, it may be profitably discussed by the teacher and the class. The teacher should point out its exact force and shade of meaning, and the pupils should then suggest one English expression after another until the right phrase is found. Such discussion of differences in idiom will do much to cultivate the linguistic i^ense, and, in particular, to beget a feeling for the characteristic excellences of different languages. The pupils should never be allowed to rest content with a version that destroys the life of the original. They should understand that the vivacity of a French story, the homely charm of a German fairy tale, the weight and lucidity of Caesar, and the polished eloquence of Cicero are to be reproduced in transla- tion as well as the literal meaning of the words. COLLEGE REQUIREMENTS. The requirements for admission to college emphasize three phases of writing, — subject-matter, logical structure, and literary form. Students are expected to express themselves “ with clear- ness and accuracy”; they are required to be accurate in spelling, punctuation, and grammar ; and they are reminded that good XX INTRODUCTION. English in their other examinations will serve as evidence of proficiency in composition. The examiners look for clearness, force, and good taste. Pupils should be taught that these are not arbitrary require- ments, but that the qualities which they demand are profitable to every one, whether he goes to college or not. The teacher’s criticism should cover all three phases of com- position, and the text-book should be tested from the same points of view. Does the instruction, with its accompanying exercises, give the pupil the power to tell what he knows, to arrange his thoughts logically, and to express himself in well- chosen language ? Does he apply in his everyday writing what he learned in the grammar school about spelling, punctuation, and grammar? Is his study of literature a help to his com- position, and does his composition enable him to enjoy and appreciate literature ? These are questions which every teacher should have constantly in mind ; for they will prove useful guides in organizing and simplifying his instruction. Part I. ELEMENTS OF COMPOSITION. 1 Part I. ELEMENTS OF COMPOSITION. SECTION 1. THE USES OF COMPOSITIOK The president of a great manufacturing corporation, in an address to the graduating class of a manual train- ing school, once laid down this principle : The secret of success in life is to do whatever you are set to do a little better than the people^ about you are doing it.” He was speaking to boys who were to begin their career by working with their hands ; but his principle applies equally well to that other sort of work which some of them were soon to be doing with their minds. For the real difference between the foreman of a shop or mill and the men whom he directs, is that he understands the work better than they do. The better he under- stands it, the higher he can rise. Yet, if he cannot make other men understand how he thinks the work should be done, it will make little difference how much he knows about it; for if all his knowledge must stay locked up in his own mind, though it may help him to be a better workman himself, it certainly will not carry him to those higher positions where he must direct the work of others. 3 4 THE MOTHER TONGUE. The higher a man rises in any calling, the more diffi- cult and complicated are the things that he is required to explain; and the more he will need, therefore, to understand how to use words and how to put them together. In practical life, then, the ability to speak and write clearly and effectively is necessary to success. But life is not all toil and struggle and getting ahead. Not only in your work, but outside of it, you are continu- ally coming across pleasant and interesting things. You may visit a new place, or play a new game, or meet agree- able people, or do something that you have never done before; and you have always the still more satisfying pleasure of your friends and the things you are used to. Now, whenever anything interesting happens, you are eager to talk about it, so that other people may under- stand it and share your pleasure. On the other hand, if you are hurt or in trouble, you instinctively desire to tell somebody what ails you. Here again you need the power to put words together. An exclamation may show that you are delighted or troubled ; but you cannot get far with such disjointed words. Even a dog can tell you by his various barks and whinings whether he is happy or unhappy. You must put words together into sentences, and put a good many sentences together, before you can give your friends any clear notion of what your feelings are. Thus we come back, not only to the use of words, but^ to composition itself, that is, to the art of putting words and sentences together. Clearly, then, the art of composition is something that you need every day of your life. In reality it is no new thing to you. Consciously or unconsciously, you I ) THE USES OF COMPOSITION. 5 have been practising this art from your childhood, — in your earliest lessons at school, in oral messages, in every note or letter that you have written. The word composition means nothing more than “ put- ting together,” or “combining.” You compose, there- fore, when you say “The sky is blue,” for you put together the idea of sky and the idea of blue into a new thought which embodies them both. Every sentence you utter is a composition in a small way. When you write a letter, you compose on a larger scale ; for now you are combining not only words, but sentences also. Everybody composes, then ; but to compose well requires both study and practice. Meanwhile, without some power of composing you cannot recite your lessons, you cannot direct a stranger to the railroad station, you can- not tell your friends about the things that interest you. In short, you can neither explain anything that you know to some one who does not already know it, nor make others understand your feelings and share them, unless you have learned to choose your words skilfully and to put them together in an effective way. Your acquaintance with the art of composition must be continuous and progressive. You will use this art not merely at school, but throughout your life. It is needed in oral speech, — as in addressing a meeting or arguing before a committee, — and in written discourse, — reports and business letters, or, it may be, essays and stories. The more active and efficient you are, the more you will need the art of composition. Now, whatever we do at all is worth doing well. This truth is so obvious that it has taken form in a proverb. It is recognized in all skilled labor, in every 6 THE MOTHER TONGUE. art and craft, and in all the professions. A young girl practises hour after hour, year after year, that she may acquire skill in playing the piano. The members of a boat crew or a football team have to work hard and patiently to master their art. The lawyer and the physician give years to the study and practice of their profession before they achieve success. Why? Because without this long and careful study and practice they cannot hope to do their work well. So it is with the art of composition. Even a child can talk to his playmates and make himself understood after a fashion ; so much he learns from observing and imitating those about him. But an adequate knowledge of the mother tongue — such a knowledge as enables us to understand, appreciate, and enjoy good books — comes only through study; and the power to express our thoughts and feelings fully and clearly, in writing or in oral speech, is not secured without regular and suitable training. The aim of this book is to guide the learner in such study and practice as shall develop the power both of appreciation and of expression. SECTION 2.1 The following exercises will test your present power of oral and written expression, and will reveal your need of further study. 1 It is not expected that every pupil shall work through all these exercises. The teacher will find it easy to make an appropriate selection. As soon as the pupils discover that they already have material for original composition but need training in the art of expression, they may proceed to the sections that follow. EXERCISES. i In each exercise describe the object or process orally, as if you were talking familiarly with a friend. Then write your description. Compare your description with those written by other members of the class. 1. Tell how a tree is felled. 2. Give directions for playing tennis. 3. Tell how to harness a horse. 4. Describe an oak tree, showing how it differs from a maple. 5. Tell a beginner how to row a boat. 6. Tell your sister how to make chocolate caramels. 7. Describe the building of a wharf. 8. Tell how corn is raised. 9. Tell how a tin pan can be mended. 10. Describe a bicycle, telling how it is constructed and how it is operated. To what accidents is it liable? 11. Describe an electric car, telling how the motive power is applied. 12. Tell how bread is made. 13. Describe the manufacture of gingham. 14. Describe a spinning wheel. 15. Describe the work of a locomotive engineer. 16. Give directions for playing the game of golf. 17. Describe a game of golf. 18. Describe a barbed-wire fence. 19. Describe the water supply of your city or town. 20. Tell how a letter is mailed, carried, and delivered. 21. Describe the building of a road. (1) Tell by what author- ity it is planned and built ; (2) describe the actual process. 22. Explain in exact language how the surface of a triangle is measured. 23. Tell how a chimney is built. 24. Compare a lobster and a crab. 25. Compare a grasshopper and a bumblebee. 8 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 3.1 Read the following extract from Franklin’s ‘‘Auto- biography.” It is a straightforward story of everyday experience, written in a simple and forcible style. FIRST DAY IN PHILADELPHIA. By Benjamin Franklin. I have been the more particular in this description of my journey, and shall be so of my first entry into that city, that you may in your mind compare such unlikely beginnings with the figure I have since made there. I was in my working dress, my best clothes being to come round by sea. I was dirty from my journey ; my pockets were stuffed out with shirts and stockings, and I knew no soul, nor where to look for lodging. I was fatigued with travelling, rowing, and want of rest; I was very hungry, and my whole stock of cash consisted of a Dutch dollar and about a shilling in copper. The latter I gave the people of the boat for my passage, who at first refused it, on account of my rowing ; but I insisted on their taking it, a man being sometimes more generous when he has but a little money than when he has plenty, perhaps through fear of being thought to have but little. Then I walked up the street gazing about, till, near the market- house, I met a boy with bread. I had made many a meal on bread, and, inquiring where he got it, I went immediately to the baker’s he directed me to, in Second Street, and asked for biscuit, intending such as we had in Boston ; but they, it seems, were not made in Philadelphia. Then I asked for a threepenny loaf, and was told they had none such. So, not considering or knowing the difference of money, and the greater cheapness nor^ the 1 For full directions as to the use of Sections 3-5, see “ Suggestions to the Teacher,” in the Introduction. 2 This use of nor is hardly in accordance with present usage, but was proper in Franklin’s time. See “ The Mother Tongue,” Book II, p. xxi. STORIES 9 names of his bread, I bade him give me threepenny-worth of any sort. He gave me, accordingly, three great puify rolls. I was surprised at the quantity, but took it, and, having no room in my pockets, walked off with a roll under each arm, and eating the other. Thus I went up Market Street as far as Fourth Street, passing by the door of Mr. Reed, my future wife’s father ; when she, standing at the door, saw^ me, and thought I made, as I certainly did, a most awkward, ridiculous appearance. Then I turned and went down Chestnut Street and part of Walnut Street, eating my roll all the way, and, coming round, found myself again at Market Street wharf, near the boat I came in, to which I went for a draught of the river water ; and, being filled with one of my rolls, gave the other two to a woman and her child that came down the river in the boat with us and were waiting to go farther. Thus refreshed, I walked again up the street, which by this time had many clean-dressed people ill it, who were all walking the same way. I joined them, and thereby was led into the great meeting-house of the Quakers near the market. I sat down among them, and, after looking round a while and hearing nothing said, being very drowsy through labor and want of rest the preceding night, I fell fast asleep, and continued so till the meeting broke up, when one was kind enough to rouse me. This was, therefore, the first house I was in, or slept in, in Philadelphia.! SECTION 4. Read the following short story by Mr. Riis. It gives a vivid account of an exciting incident in the life of a great city. Notice the difference between Franklin’s style and that of Mr. Riis. Can you account for this difference ? iThe teacher will find it interesting to read Franklin’s account of how he learned to write. See Franklin’s Autobiography,” Bigelow’s edition, Vol. I, Part I, pp. 109 ff. 10 THE MOTHER TONGUE. THE STORY OF A FIRE.i By Jacob A. Riis. Thirteen years have passed since, but it is all to me as if it had happened yesterday, — the clanging of the fire-bells, the hoarse shouts of the firemen, the wild rush and terror 'of the streets ; then the great hush that fell upon the crpwd ; the sea af upturned faces with the fire glow upon it; and up there, against the background of black smoke that poured from roof and attic, the boy clinging to the narrow ledge, • so far up' thatr it seemed humanly impossible that help could ever come. But even then it was coming. Up from the street, while the crew of the truck-company were laboring with the heavy exten- sion ladder that at its longest stretch was many feet too short, crept four men upon long, slender poles with cross-bars, iron- hooked at the end. Standing in one window, they reached up and thrust the hook through the next one aboA^e, then mounted a story higher. Again the crash of glass, and again the dizzy ascent. Straight up the wall they crept, looking like human flies on the ceiling, and clinging as close, never resting, reaching one recess only to set out for the next ; pearer and nearer in the race for life, until but a single span separated the foremost froip the boy. And now the iron hook fell at his feet, and the firemap stood upon the step with the rescued lad in his arms, just as the pent-up flame burst lurid from the attic window, reaching with impotent fury for its prey. The next moment they were safe upon the great .ladder waiting to receive them below. Then such a shout went up ! Men fell on each other’s necks, and cried and laughed at once. Strangers slapped one another on the back with glistening faces, shook hands, and behaved generally like men gone suddenly mad. Women wept in the street. The driver of a car stalled in the crowd, Avho had stood through it all speechless, clutching the reins, whipped his horses 1 From “ The Century,” Vol LV, p. 483 (by permission of The Century Company). STORIES. into a gallop and drove away, yelling like a Comanche, to relieve his feelings. The boy and his rescuer were carried across the street without any one knowing how. Policemen forgot their dignity and shouted with the rest. Fire, peril, terror, and loss were alike forgotten in the one touch of nature that makes the whole world kin. Fireman John Binns was made captain of his crew, and the Bennett medal was pinned on his coat on the next parade day. SECTION 5. Read the following extract from Scott. It gives an account of an important historical event in simple, dignified language. THE BATTLE OF BANNOCKBURN. i By Sir Walter Scott. King Edward the Second assembled one of the greatest armies which a king of England ever commanded. There were troops brought from all his dominions. Many brave soldiers from the French provinces which the king of England possessed in France, — many Irish, many Welsh, — and all the great English nobles and barons, with their followers, were assembled in one great army. The number was not less than one hundred thousand men. King Robert the Bruce summoned all his nobles and barons to join him, when he heard of the great preparations which the king of England was making. They were not so numerous as the English by many thousand men. In fact, his whole army did not very much exceed thirty thousand, and they were much worse armed than the wealthy Englishmen ; but then, Robert, who was at their head, was one of the most expert generals of the time ; 1 From “ Tales of a Grandfather.” 12 THE MOTHER TONGUE. and the officers he had under him were his brother Edward, his nephew Randolph, his faithful follower the Douglas, and other brave and experienced leaders, who commanded the same men that had been accustomed to fight and gain victories under every disadvantage of situation and numbers. The king, on his part, studied how he might supply, by address and stratagem, what he wanted in numbers and strength. He knew the superiority of the English, both in their heavy-armed cavalry, which were much better mounted and armed than that of the Scots, and in their archers, who were better trained than any others in the world. Both these advantages he resolved to provide against. With this purpose, he led his army down into a plain near Stirling, called the Park, near which, and beneath it, the English army must needs pass through a boggy country, broken with watercourses, while the Scots occupied hard, dry ground. He then caused all the ground upon the front of his line of battle, where cavalry were likely to act, to be dug full of holes, about as deep as a man’s knee. They were filled with light brushwood, and the turf was laid on the top, so that it appeared a plain field, while in reality it was all full of these pits, as a honeycomb is of holes. He also, it is said, caused steel pikes, called calthrops, to be scattered up and down in the plain, where the English cavalry were most likely to advance, trusting in that manner to lame and destroy their horses. When the Scottish army was drawn up, the line stretched north and south. On the south, it was terminated by the banks of the brook called Bannockburn, which are so rocky that no troops could attack them there. On the left, the Scottish line extended near to the town of Stirling. Bruce reviewed his troops very carefully ; all the useless servants, drivers of carts, and such like, of whom there were very many, he ordered to go behind a height, afterwards, in memory of the event, called the Gillies’ Hill, that is, the Servants’ Hill. He then spoke to the soldiers, and expressed his determination to gain the victory, or to lose his life on the field of battle. He desired that all those who did not propose to STORIES. 13 fight to the last should leave the field before the battle began, and that none should remain except those who were determined to take the issue of victory or death, as God should send it. When the main body of his army was thus placed in order, . the king posted Randolph, with a body of horse, near to the chm’ch of St. Ninian’s, commanding him to use the utmost dili- gence to prevent any succors from being thrown into Stirling Castle. He then despatched James of Douglas, and Sir Robert Keith, the Mareschal of the Scottish army, in order that they might survey, as nearly as they could, the English force, which was now approaching from Falkirk. They returned with infor- mation that the approach of that vast host was one of the most beautiful and terrible sights which could be seen, — that the whole country seemed covered with men-at-arms on horse and foot, — that the number of standards, banners, and pennons (all flags of different kinds) made so gallant a show that the bravest and most numerous host in Christendom might be alarmed to see King Edward moving against them. It was upon the 23d of June (1314) the king of Scotland heard the news, that the English army were approaching Stirling. He drew out his army, therefore, in the order which he had before resolved on. After a short time, Bruce,^ who was looking out anxiously for the enemy, saw a body of English cavalry trying to get into Stirling from the eastward. This was the Lord Clifford, who, with a chosen body of eight hundred horse, had been detached to relieve the castle. See, Randolph,” said the king to his nephew, ‘There is a rose fallen from your chaplet.” By this he meant that Randolph had lost some honor by suffering the enemy to pass where he had been stationed to hinder them. Randolph made no reply, but rushed against Clifford with little more than half his number. The Scots were on foot. The English turned to charge them with their lances, and Randolph drew up his men in close order to receive the onset. He seemed to be in so much danger, that Douglas asked leave of the king to go and assist him. The king refused him permission. 14 THE MOTHER TONGUE. “ Let Randolph,” he said, “ redeem his own fault ; I cannot break the order of battle for his sake.” Still the danger appeared greater, and the English horse seemed entirely to encompass the small handful of Scottish infantry. So please you,” said Douglas to the king, ‘-my heart will not suffer me to stand idle and see Randolph perish. I must go to his assistance.” He rode off accordingly ; but long before they had reached the place of combat, he saw the English horses galloping off, many with empty saddles. Halt ! ” said Douglas to his men. ‘‘Randolph has gained the day ; since we were not soon enough to help him in the battle, do not let us lessen his glory by approaching the field.” Now that was nobly done, — especially as Douglas and Randolph were always contending which should rise highest in the good opinion of the king and the nation. The van of the English army now came in sight, and a number of their bravest knights drew near to see what the Scots were doing. They saw King Robert dressed in his armor, and dis- tinguished by a gold crown, which he wore over his helmet. He w^as not mounted on his great war-horse, because he did not expect to fight that evening. But he rode on a little pony up and down the ranks of his army, putting his men in order, and carried in his hand a sort of battle-axe made of steel. When the king saw the English horsemen draw near, he advanced a little before his own men, that he might look at them more nearly. There was a knight among the English called Sir Henry de Bohun, who thought this would be a good opportunity to gain great fame to himself, and put an end to the war, by killing King Robert. The king being poorly mounted, and having no lance, Bohun galloped on him suddenly and furiously, thinking, with his long spear and his tall powerful horse, easily to bear him down to the ground. King Robert saw him, and permitted him to come very near, then suddenly turned his pony a little to one side, so that Sir Henry missed him with the lance-point, and was in the act of being carried past him by the career of his STORIES. 15 horse. But as he passed, King Robert rose up in his stirrups, and struck Sir Henry on the head with his battle-axe so terrible a blow that it broke to pieces his iron helmet as if it had been a nutshell and hurled him from his saddle. He was dead before he reached the ground. This gallant action was blamed by the Scottish leaders, who thought Bruce ought not to have exposed himself to so much danger when the safety of the whole army depended on him. The king only kept looking at his weapon, which was injured by the force of the blow, and said, “ I have broken my good battle-axe.” The next morning, being the 24th of June, at break of day, the battle began in terrible earnest. The English, as they advanced , saw the Scots getting into line. The Abbot of Inchaffray walked through their ranks barefooted, and exhorted them to fight for their freedom. They kneeled down as he passed, and prayed to Heaven for victory. King Edward, who saw this, called out, “ They kneel down, — they are asking forgiveness ! ” ‘‘ Yes,” said a celebrated English baron, called Ingelram de Umphraville, “but they ask it from God, not from us. These men will con- quer or die upon the field.” The English king ordered his men to begin the battle. The archers then bent their bows, and began to shoot so closely together that the arrows fell like fiakes of snow on a Christmas day. They killed many of the Scots, and might, as at Falkirk and other places, have decided the victory ; but Bruce, as I told you before, was prepared for them. He had in readiness a body of men-at-arms, well-mounted, who rode at full gallop among the archers, and as they had no weapons save their bows and arrows, which they could not use when they were attacked hand to hand, they were cut down in great numbers by the Scottish horsemen, and thrown into total confusion. The fine English cavalry then advanced to support their archers and to attack the Scottish line. But coming over the ground which was dug full of pits, the horses fell into these holes, and the riders lay tumbling about, without any means of defence, and 16 THE MOTHER TONGUE. unable to rise from the weight of their armor. The Englishmen began to fall into general disorder ; and the Scottish king, bring- ing up more of his forces, attacked and pressed them still more closely. On a sudden, while the battle was obstinately maintained on both sides, an event happened which decided the victory. The servants and attendants on the Scottish camp had, as I told you, been sent behind the army to a place afterwards called the Gillies’ Hill. But when they saw that their masters were likely to gain the day, they rushed from their place of concealment with such weapons as they could get, that they might have their share in the victory and in the spoil. The English, seeing them come suddenly over the hill, mistook this disorderly rabble for a new army coming up to sustain the Scots, and, losing all heart, began to shift every man for himself. Edward himself left the field as fast as he could ride. A valiant knight. Sir Giles de Argentine, much renowned in the wars of Palestine, attended the king till he got him out of the press of the combat. But he would retreat no farther. <‘It is not my custom,” he said, « to fly.” With that he took leave of the king, set spurs to his horse, and calling out his war-cry of Argentine ! Argentine ! ” he rushed into the thickest of the Scottish ranks, and was killed. The English never before or afterwards, whether in France or Scotland, lost so dreadful a battle as that of Bannockburn, nor did the Scots ever gain one of the same importance. Many of the best and bravest of the English nobility and gentry lay dead on the field ; a great many more were made prisoners ; and the whole of King Edward’s immense army was dispersed or destroyed. The English, after this great defeat, were no longer in a con- dition to support their pretensions to be masters of Scotland, or to continue, as they had done for nearly twenty years, to send armies into that country to overcome it. On the contrary, they became for a time scarce able to defend their own frontiers against King Robert and his soldiers. (THE SUBJE SUBJECT OF A COMPOSITION. 17 SECTION 6. THE SUBJECT OF A COMPOSITION. If we think of composition, in its simplest form, as the expression of our own thoughts and feelings, we shall readily discern the fact that we speak, or write, because we have something to say, and wish or are impelled to say it. Perhaps you have not yet realized that the same motive underlies every book that is written, every address that is made, every sermon that is preached, — some- body (the author) has something to say, and says it. We may be interested, or instructed, or amused, both by the thing that is said and by the manner in which it is said. Here we have at once the two main elements or fac- tors of composition : first, the subject ; second, the treat- ment of the subject. We shall have much to say of the second of these elements, but the first is, after all, the more important. To have something worth communi- cating is the essential point ; it is not until this essen- tial is secured that the fashion of our speech or writing becomes of particular consequence. Just here the student ordinarily finds some difficulty. He knows that he himself is intensely interested in Stanley’s accounts of his adventures in Africa, or in Peary’s description of his life at the frozen North; but it does not occur to him that his own experiences are worth transcribing with pen and ink. Yet they are. Every life has its own history. Everybody has thoughts, feelings, and experiences of his own, which, however trivial they may seem, have a genuine human interest. 18 THE MOTHER TONGUE. Franklin tells us about the everyday occurrences in his life, and we find them of absorbing interest. Mr. Riis saw John Binns’s noble deed and admired it; and he makes us, too, see and admire it. Scott steeped his mind in the history and traditions of Scotland, and has left us a record of what he learned and thought. So you, when you speak or write, have your own thought or experience for your theme. Express it freely and honestly. SECTION 7.1 1. Write a list of fifty things about which you know some- thing. 2. Choose one subject out of the fifty, and tell what you can about it. 3. Cross out such of your subjects as other members of the class have named. How many are left? These, then, express your personal knowledge and interests. W"e may infer that you know more about them than the other pupils do. Already you have individual subjects concerning which you may enlighten others. 4. Write or talk, under the teacher’s direction, about the remaining subjects on your list. 5. With what subjects was it necessary that Sir Walter Scott should be acquainted before he could write “ The Battle of Ban- nockburn ”? Make a list of these subjects. 6. Study a list of the writings of Longfellow, Whittier, Bur- roughs, Audubon, Parkman, Thoreau, Scott, Lowell, Dickens, Holmes, Tennyson, Wordsworth, Kipling, or Stevenson. ^ What did each author Icnow about? 7. Write or talk about some subject suggested by Exercise 6. 1 This section will furnish material for several lessons. 2 The teacher will, of course, make a selection among these authors, or will distribute them among the class. SUBJECTS AND TITLES. 19 SECTION 8. SUBJECTS AND TITLES. Something has been gained when your composition has been well named. Since the title introduces the subject to the reader, it should therefore express your theme plainly, and should be so phrased as to attract his attention and arouse his interest. A subject may be stated in general or in specific terms. Thus, one may write about ‘‘War,”* or “The Battle of Bannockburn.” The first is a general, the second a specific subject. It is likely that your knowl- edge and experience are unequal to the larger theme, and it would therefore be more modest and more sensible to limit your field and announce the specific subject. “ Plays and Games ” may serve as a title for an essay by a writer who has long been interested in athletics and who has a broad view of the principles involved and the various applications of these prin- ciples. “What I Know about Tennis” would state more clearly your own experience, and would have the value of a frank personal contribution. Tour compo- sition may be even more interesting than that of a famous athlete. At all events, to state the subject of your essay appropriately and honestly will enlist the interest and sympathy of your readers. Further, a concrete, specific subject is in itself more interesting to the ordinary reader. “A Scotch Collie” is a better subject for a boy’s composition than “ The Intelligence of Dumb Animals.” The boy may clearly and fully discuss the one, while he would hardly do 20 THE MOTHER TONGUE. justice to the other. More than this, the reader will be interested in the particular dog from the start, while statements about dumb animals in general will seem vague and pointless, and therefore will fail to arouse his interest. Whenever you consult a library catalogue, some titles pique your curiosity at once. Your own experience, then, will teacli you the value of a well-chosen title. SECTION 9. 1. Distinguish between the pairs of titles in the following list : — 1. Foreign Travel. Afoot in Scotland. 2. My Likes and Dislikes. My Pet Aversion. 3. War. The Battle of Quebec. 4. Statesmanship. The Life of Washington. 5. Experiments in Cookery. My First Loaf of Bread. 6. A Pleasant Summer. My Vacation at Bear Camp. 7. A Thrilling Rescue. How Dick Saved the Train. 8. Literature. My Favorite Story. 2. Select from some catalogue five plain and clear titles ; five explanatory titles ; five titles which give you no clue to the contents of the book ; five titles w'hich arouse your curiosity or interest ; five titles which seem to you very well chosen. 3. Suggest other titles for each article in some magazine. 4. Read a selected anecdote in the class, asking the other pupils to suggest an appropriate title. 5. Suggest other titles for five familiar poems. 6. Copy the sub-titles from the title-pages of five different books. 7. Make a list of the titles of Scott’s novels. 8. Make a list of ten titles of good short stories. SELECTION OF MATERIAL. 21 SECTION 10. SELECTION OF MATERIAL. Every kind of writing requires some knowledge of the art of composition. Even the simplest stories, if they are well told, conform to its principles. An example will make this clear. Read Franklin’s account of his “ First Day in Phila- delphia” (p. 8). It is a plain, straightforward story; yet, simple as it is, you will discover, when you study it, that to tell it so well required great skill in com- posing, — far more than comes to us by nature. Ill the first place, every fact in Franklin’s story counts for something. His stuffed pockets show how unpromising a figure he cut for one who was to be a successful man ; his scanty supply of money indicates the humble beginning of his fortunes; the puffiness of the rolls brings out the whole grotesque picture viv- idly. Not one of these points could be omitted without loss. Yet Franklin did actually leave out many other facts in order to make his narrative clear and vivid. He says nothing of the weather, nothing of the appearance of the streets and houses, or of mud or dust or distance, — nothing of a hundred things that may well have risen in his memory while he was writing. It is largely Franklin’s skilful choice of material that makes the story so interesting. In other words, Franklin knew what to put in and what to leave out : he could tell a plain tale in a straightforward and forcible way. In short, he understood the art of composition. Now read Mr. Riis’s “Story of a Fire” (p. 10), and study it as you have studied Franklin’s “ First Day in Philadelphia.” It is a narrative of quite a different 22 THE MOTHER TONGUE. kind, — rapid, exciting, full of striking points ; yet it illustrates the same principle of selection. He tells of the noise of the scene, of the hushed crowd staring up at the boy on the narrow ledge ; then of the slow progress of the firemen up the wall with their scaling ladders. Thus we not only feel the tumult of the fire but share the suspense with which the bystanders watched the rescue. Finally, examine Sir Walter Scott’s ‘‘ Battle of Bannockburn ” (pp. 11—16), in the light of what you have discovered in the other two examples. Scott is writing history, — that is, he is telling the story of an event which had far-reaching consequences. He includes a num- ber of details, — the ‘‘ gallant show ” of the English army, the mul- titude of their flags, what Bruce said to his nephew, Randolph, — all trifling in themselves, but serving to make the scene real to us as we read. Not for a moment, however, does he distract our attention from the main point of his narrative, — the great battle that changed the fate of Scotland. For the details are not taken at random ; they are selected with the nicest care from many circumstances that might have been mentioned. Scott had mastered this first great principle of the art of composition : he knew how to select his material. From the study of these three examples it is clear that much skill is required, even in the case of a simple story, to decide what to leave out and what to put in. In short, selection of material is essential to the art of composition. SELECTION OF MATERIAL. 23 SECTION 11. I. Write an outline of Franklin’s account of liis ‘‘First Day in Philadelphia” (p. 8). Enumerate the details which Franklin introduces into his story. Omit two or three of these details and note how much is lost. Suggest other details which might have been included. Insert them ; then read the story. Observe the effect. II. Proceed with “ The Story of a Fire ” (p. 10) as in Exercise I. Do the same with the third paragraph of “ The Battle of Bannockburn ” (p. 12). Continue this exercise with other paragraphs. SECTION 12. Read the following anecdote. Four-year-old Robbie had been ill for a fortnight. Getting better, he went about his play as usual, but his little hands were limp and weak. He dropped his playthings, came to his mother’s chair, and, leaning against her side, said wearily, ‘‘ Take me up, mamma ! I feel just like a broken toy.” Examine the anecdote. Observe every detail. Omit four-year-old, and read the story. What is the effect of the omission ? What, then, is the use of this detail ? Proceed in the same manner with the other details. 24 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 13. Read the following anecdote. STOPPING A PAPER. Horace Greeley, founder of the ‘‘New York Tribune,’’ was once interrupted by a subscriber who had been much offended by' an article in the paper. The angry stranger upbraided Mr. Greeley tempestuously and denounced the “ Tribune ” in unmeasured terms. The editor, who was busy at his desk, wrote on quietly, page after page, as if he heard nothing that his visitor was saying. After the torrent of abuse had ceased, the man, disgusted with Mr. Greeley’s silence, turned to leave the room. Then Mr. Greeley rose politely and said cordially, “Don’t go, friend ! Sit down and free your mind. You will feel better for it, and I shall write better. Don’t go ! ” A few hours later, Mr. Greeley met the same person in the street. Greeting him heartily, he said, “ I am relieved, Mr. Smith, to know that you did n’t do what you said you would.” “ What was that ? ” “ You said you were going to stop my paper. Now that would have ruined me ; but I have just been at the office and I found everything running as usual.” “ I stopped my subscription, sir.” “ O, was that all? Well, Mr. Smith, you and I must remem- ber that this world is bigger than we are. It will run on after both of us are dead.” Study this anecdote, according to the plan outlined in Section 12. SECTION 14. Bring to the class some short anecdote. Be prepared to study it as in Section 12. ARRANGEMENT OF MATERIAL. 25 SECTION 15. ARRANGEMENT OE MATERIAL. Skill in the choice of material is not the only kind of skill needed in telling a simple story well. The material selected must also be arranged in an orderly way, so that tlie narrative shall move smoothly and without confusion or interruption. Franklin does not mention the mother and her child until they are necessary to conclude the incident of his threepenny- worth of rolls. Scott explains how Bruce prepared the ground in front of his line, and how he posted Randolph, before he comes to the battle itself, where everything must move swiftly. Thus, even in the simplest stories, the art of com- position involves not merely a wise selection of material, but also skill in arranging it. In practice, as we shall soon discover, such arrangement depends very much on the construction of sentences and paragraphs. The detailed study of arrangement must therefore be post- poned until we come to those subjects. Meantime, a few practical suggestions will be of assistance.^ 1. A story should generally be told in the order in which the facts occurred ; that is, it should follow the order of time. A narrator who is continually going back to pick up broken threads wearies his hearers and loses their attention. A story should move on with directness and force, like an arrow to the mark. Nobody will listen long to anything that confuses his mind. The order of time is especially important in narrative letters and in biographical sketches. 1 These suggestions should not be regarded as “rules.” They hold true in general ; but arrangement varies infinitely, as circumstances shift and different effects are sought by the writer. 26 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 2. The point of an excellent story may be completely lost because the hearer is ignorant of the circumstances under which the events occurred. Hence one must often outline these cir- cumstances in advance. 3. Similarly, a narrative or description may necessarily contain some term or terms unknown to the hearer. In this case, too, an introduction is necessary, in order to define or make clear the ideas in question. 4. Introductions should not be longer than is necessary. Do not make the porch larger than the house.^ SECTION 16. DEAL EXEECISES IX STOEY-TELLIXG. In each of the following exercises, 1. Think out your story. 2. Prepare an outline of your story. 3. Tell the story, using the outline to guide you. 1. Recount some anecdote of your childhood. 2. Tell the story of the boy who ‘‘ stood on the burning deck.” 3. Tell the story of ‘‘ Paul Eevere’s Ride.” 4. Recite some anecdote of your school experience. 5. Describe some picnic in which you have taken part. 6. Outline briefly one of the stories told in Longfellow’s “ Tales of a Wayside Inn.” 7. Tell in your own words one of T^sop’s fables. 8. Imagine that you are asked to carry a message. Give an account (1) of the conversation between yourself and the sender of the message ; (2) of your endeavor to fulfil the commission ; (3) of the conversation between yourself and the person to w^hom 1 The introduction and the conclusion will be specifically treated in later sections (see pp. 131-5). The hints here given are intended for immediate use in practice. STORIES. 27 the message is sent. Recite the story as if you were telling it to a third person. Recite it as if you were telling the story to the person who sent the message.^ 9. Prepare to tell to the class some interesting anecdote that you have read. 10. Report an article that you have read in one of the recent magazines. 11. Report or invent a short story illustrating some lesson in manners or conduct. Do not express the moral, but take care that it comes out clearly in the story itself. SECTION 17. Bring to the class three stories which seem to you well told. Explain why you think so. Write a brief outline of the stories you have brought to the class. Using your outline as a basis, explain how the author has selected his material.^ To THE Teacher. — The study of the examples in Sections 3-5, and of the stories which the children bring to the class-room, will serve for several lessons. The teacher should point out the different character of the three stories (Franklin’s plain record of ordinary occurrences, Mr. Riis’s account of an exciting incident in everyday life, and Scott’s narra- tive of a great historical event) and should explain how the same wise choice of material appears in all. Much may be made of the skill with which useless details are omitted ; for the pupils will readily supply many such details and will have no difficulty in seeing that the narrative would be clogged by their insertion. On the other hand, the bareness which results from complete neglect of details may also be made clear to the pupils. Let them omit the apparently trivial incidents in Scott’s “ Battle of Bannockburn,” for example, and note the effect. Such exercises will readily connect themselves with the study of literature and of history. 1 In this case you will review the circumstances and rehearse the pre- liminary conversation before telling the outcome of your endeavor. 2 See p. 23 for the method to be followed in this exercise. 28 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 18. In the following exercises centre your thought upon the arrangement of your material, following the suggestions which have just been given (pp. 25-26). 1. Write a letter describing a day at the seashore or at the mountains. 2. Two boys are engaged in a quarrel. Their father separates them and demands an explanation. Explain to the father, as one of the boys might have done, the circumstances leading to the quarrel. 3. A student comes to the class without knowing his lesson. After the recitation the teacher asks him to explain his failure. Recount the train of circumstances which prevented the prepara- tion of the lesson. 4. Find in your History some account of an important event. Make an outline of the order of occurrences, and recite orally to the class from the outline. 5. Select a paragraph or an incident from some narrative (as ‘‘ David Copperfield,” for example). Prepare an introductory statement explaining the circumstances so that your paragraph or incident may be understood by the hearer. 6. Repeat Exercise 5 with another selection. 7. Prepare the story of an accident which might occur with a bicycle, an automobile, a pump, or some other machine. In order to make the accident plain, explain the working of the machine when it is in order, naming the parts. 8. Make a diagram which will help to explain the accident mentioned in Exercise 7. Draw your diagram on the black- board, and refer to it while making your explanation. 9. Turn to Section 4, p. 10, and write an outline of the second paragraph, indicating the arrangem'ent of the material. 10. Write a letter describing the events of yesterday in school. Exchange letters in the class, and criticise the arrangement of the material. CHOICE OF WORDS. 29 SECTION 19. I. Read Franklin’s ‘‘ First Day in Philadelphia ” (p. 8). Note on a sheet of paper — 1. The persons who come into the narrative. 2. The points at which they appear. 3. Whether Franklin’s first acquaintance with them comes at the point at which they appear in the story or earlier. 4. Explain why they appear in the story when they do. II. 1. Examine the stories which you have written in Section 18, p. 28, and note whether any person or incident appears before the proper time. 2. See whether you can remove any of the explana- tory details from the more active and exciting parts of your narratives. SECTION 20. CHOICE OF WORDS. Selection and arrangement, as we have seen, are of great importance. But they are not everything. The success of a story depends very much on the use of appropriate language in telling it. A good story may be spoiled by unskilful choice of words. Turn again to Franklin’s “ First Day in Philadelphia ” (p. 8). See how plain and familiar the words are. There is hardly a single one which a child might not use in telling a story. 30 THE MOTHER TONGUE. Now turn to Scott’s narrative (p. 11). Here you will see that, though everything is perfectly clear, there are a considerable number of words which we seldom hear in ordinary conversation. Thus, in the first five paragraphs we find dominions, forfeited, snuster, diligence, terminated, and stratagem. . How many of these words can you define and use in your own compositions ? Turn to some page of your History and see if there are any words which are familiar to you, but which you cannot define. You may have a general idea of the meaning, but the question is, ‘‘ What do the words mean exactly?” Do you know them by sight, or have you a speaking acquaintance with them? Can you use them freely without fear of saying something absurd ? A little study of this sort will make it clear that, to tell even a simple story well, one needs a considerable range of vocabulary and an accurate knowledge of what words mean. SECTION 21. Make a list of the words on page 15 that you would not be likely to use in ordinary conversation. Define the words in your list without consulting the Dictionary. Refer to the Dictionary in order to test the accuracy of your definitions. SECTION 22, Study the meaning of the italicized words in the following selection. Use the words in various sentences of your own. CHOICE OF WORDS. 31 WESTMINSTER ABBEY. By Washington Irving. On one of those sober and rather melancholy days in the latter part of autumn, when the shadows of morning and evening almost mingle together, and throw a gloom over the decline of the year, I passed several hours in rambling about Westminster Abbey. There was something congenial to the season in the mournful magnificence of the old pile ; and, as I passed its thresh- old, it seemed like stepping back into the regions of antiquity and losing myself among the shades of former ages. I entered from the inner court of Westminster School, through a long, low, vaulted passage, that had an almost subterranean look, being dimly lighted in one part by circular perforations in the massive walls. Through this dark avenue I had a distant view of the cloisters, with the figure of an old verger, in his black gown, moving among their shadowy vaults, and seeming like a spectre from one of the neighboring tombs. The approach to the abbey through these gloomy monastic remains prepares the mind for its solemn contemplation. The cloisters still retain something of the quiet and seclusion of former days. The gray walls are discolored by damps and crumbling with age ; a coat of hoary moss has gathered over the inscriptions of the mural monuments, and obscured the death’s-heads and other funereal emblems. The sharp touches of the chisel are gone from the rich tracery of the arches ; the roses which adorned the keystones have lost their leafy beauty ; everything bears marks of the gradual dilapidations of time, which yet has something touching and pleasing in its very decay. The sun was pouring down a yellow autumnal ray into the square of the cloisters, beaming upon a scanty plot of grass in the centre, and lighting up an angle of the vaulted passage with a kind of dusky splendor. From between the arcades the eye glanced up to a bit of blue sky or a passing cloud, and beheld the sun-gilt pinnacles of the abbey towering into the azure heaven. 32 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 23. Read Wordsworth’s ‘‘We are Seven.” Study the poem carefully. Then write the narrative simply, in your own words, using the third person. Compare your narrative with the poem. Observe particularly the words or phrases which are appropriate in the poetic form but are naturally omitted from your prose version. SECTION 24. Study the adjectives and other descriptive words and phrases in Longfellow’s “Wreck of the Hesperus.” Select from the poem words which do not ordinarily occur in your own vocabulary, and use them in suitable sentences. To THE Teacher. — This exercise may be repeated with other poems, as opportunity offers. Good material is afforded by any of the following : — “ Paul Revere’ s Ride ” ; Mabel Martin ”, “ Abraham Davenport ” ; “We are Seven ” ; “ Horatius at the Bridge ” ; “ John Gilpin ” ; “ The Wreck of the Hesperus”; “Hiawatha” (in extracts); “Paradise and the Peri”; “ In School Days ” ; “ The Wreck of the Royal George ” ; “ The Inchcape Rock ” ; “ Enoch Arden ” ; “ The High Tide on the Coast of Lincolnshire.” The pupils should also be encouraged to select poems for themselves. In this way the study of composition may he brought into connection with the study of literature. In this and similar exercises the pupils should not be required to make exhaustive lists, nor should they be harassed with hair-splitting distinctions. In such study “the half may often be better than the whole.” SECTION 25. Try to make definitions for the familiar objects named below. Do this without using the Dictionary. Then compare your definitions with those in the Dictionary. CHOICE OF WORDS. 33 In some cases a brief and clear description may be substituted for the definition. Schoolhouse, clock, book, lamp, picture, bicycle, barometer, tongs, shovel, scales, flag, flagstaff, apothecary, grocer, physician, miner, soldier, ship, yacht, derrick, railroad, engineer, engine, window, curtain, food, beverage, toy. SECTION 26. Suggest appropriate adjectives which may be applied to the objects named below. man fields clouds steak carpet ferns snow mill speech schoolhouse trees orange motive sunrise machine lamb vase violet brook essay factory deed moss crow workman voice rose orchard work chair knoll river wolf pitcher meadow garden book ship dove village fox statue thought farm smoke grape child poppy sky lion woman oak grass cabbage engine thistle fence serpent picture snowdrift SECTION 27. Make a list of twenty objects. Exchange lists with another pupil, and suggest adjec- tives which might be appropriately applied to the objects named in the list which you receive. 84 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 28. SYNONYMS. The English language is rich in synonyms, — that is, in different words for the same idea. Thus, instead of fatigued (p. 8), Franklin might have said tired^ worn out^ exhausted^ used up^ or weary ; for walked he might have said went^ proceeded^ strolled^ or sauntered^ — and so on. In each case, one of the other words mentioned would have expressed almost the same idea, but with some slight difference of meaning. Franklin used stuffed out (p. 8) rather than filled in order to suggest his awkward and uncouth appearance. He wrote walked, rather than sauntered or strolled, because he wished to refer merely to his moving up the street, rather than to call attention to his gait or manner. In every instance he selected, out of a number of synonyms, that particular one which would express the precise shade of meaning that he desired to convey. A knowledge of synonyms, then, and of their dis- tinctions is absolutely necessary in every kind of com- position. Without such knowledge we cannot put our thoughts and feelings into vivid and appropriate language. SECTION 29. I. 1. Write down such synonyms as you know for nation^ liberty^ happy, proud, strong, struggle, weak, fear, unworthy, restless, awkward, diligence, informa- tion, negligence, delight, active. SYNONYMS. 35 2. Use each synonym in a sentence. 3. If your sentence does not make clear the exact meaning of the synonym, explain its meaning as dis- tinguished from other synonyms. To THE Teacher. — This exercise may be repeated according to the needs of the class. The Dictionary should be freely used by the pupil, sometimes in preparing his lists of synonyms, at others in explaining or correcting his illustrative sentences. Thus variety may be secured. An exercise on the plan of an old-fashioned spelling match will sometimes be found useful. It is easy to overdo the work with synonyms. Particular care should be taken not to insist on hair-splitting distinctions, or, in general, on dis- tinctions that are more delicate than the pupil can be expected to appreciate. The following words will give additional practice in work of this kind : abbreviate, error, omit, destroy, get, speech, combine, throw, answer, care- less, cruel, kind, trouble, inquiry, pain, pardon, toil, disdain, seldom, use- less, instruction, energy, recollect, saunter, progress, confess, affectionate, suppose, regard, town, accident, purpose, remain, return, puzzled, mistake, follow, civil, pacify, conquer. SECTION 30.1 Use the synonyms in the list on pages 36-37 according to the following plan : — 1. Make a sentence containing the first synonym in line 1. Thus, — He abandoned his home and family. 2. Substitute the second synonym {desert) in your sentence. Thus, — He deserted his home and family. 3. Consider the meaning of this last sentence, and tell how it differs from that of the first. If there is no difference, say so. 1 This section will furnish material for several lessons. 36 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 4. Proceed in the same way with the other synonyms in the first line. 5. If any sentence does not make sense, reject it, and use the synonym in a new sentence. This will help you to see the difference in meaning. 6. Try to distinguish between sentences in which synonyms may be interchanged, and others in which but one of the given list can be appropriately used. I. 1. Abandon, desert, leave, forsake, resign, surrender. 2. Dislike, despise, detest, abhor, scorn. 3. Abide, live, continue, reside, stay, remain. 4. Abuse, impose upon, persecute, oppress. 5. Greet, address, salute, hail, speak to. II. 6. Alert, lively, nimble, prompt, ready, vigilant. 7. Allow, permit, let, grant, concede. 8. Amiable, agreeable, attractive, charming, pleasing, lovable. 9. Anxiety, concern, disturbance, dread, fear, foreboding, misgiving, worry, solicitude. 10. Army, force, host, soldiers, troops, phalanx. m. 11. Ask, beg, crave, entreat, implore, petition, request, sup- plicate. 12. Greedy, miserly, niggardly, parsimonious, sordid, stingy, covetous. 13. Bank, edge, marge, margin, shore, beach, strand. 14. Bind, fasten, tie, fetter, shackle. 15. Brave, bold, courageous, daring, fearless, heroic, valiant. SYNONYMS. 37 IV. 16. Business, commerce, employment, occupation, profession, trade, vocation, work. 17. Carry, bring, bear, transmit, transport, move, remove. 18. Cleanse, clean, disinfect, purify, sweep, wash, scrub. 19. Condemn, reprove, blame, censure, denounce. 20. Consequence, result, outcome, event, upshot, sequel. V. 21. Delicious, delightful, luscious, savory, exquisite. 22. Difficult, toilsome, severe, laborious, arduous, trying. 23. Disparage, underrate, undervalue, dishonor, detract from. 24. Drive, push, impel, propel, urge, thrust, ride. 25. Enthusiasm, determination, eagerness, excitement, extrava- gance, vehemence, warmth, zeal. VI. 26. Evident, apparent, obvious, palpable, plain, visible, unmis- takable. 27. Generous, liberal, noble, bountiful, munificent, open-handed . 28. Grief, sorrow, trouble, distress, tribulation, woe. 29. Home, house, residence, fireside, abode, dwelling, habi- tation. 30. Honest, frank, ingenuous, candid, genuine, trustworthy, sincere, straightforward. SECTION 31.1 ANTONYMS. Words of opposite meaning are called antonyms. Thus, weak and strong^ crafty and simple^ empty and full^ are antonyms. 1 This section will furnish material for several lessons. 38 THE MOTHER TONGUE. The antonym is the opposite of the synonym. In com- paring one object or person with another, we observe both likeness and differences. When we observe simi- larity in the objects compared, the synonym comes to our aid, preventing tiresome repetitions. When we contrast objects and note characteristics in which they differ, we need the antonym to make our meaning clear. In the following exercises, words of opposite mean- ing are grouped together. Use the words in sentences in which their opposite meaning is apparent. Example. — John is an avjkward fellow. His sister, on the contrary, is very graceful. While the miser hoarded, his children squandered. I. 1. haughty humble 6. tyrannical submissive 2. absent present 7. attentive inattentive 3. wide-awake preoccupied 8. proud meek 4. dilatory prompt 9. thoughtful thoughtless 5. fearful fearless 10. identical different II. 11. equal unequal 16. similar dissimilar 12. strong weak 17. candid deceitful 13. illiterate learned 18.. wise ignorant 14. refractory docile 19. polite rude 15. busy idle 20. happy unhappy III. 21. wholesome unwholesome 26. true false 22. firm wavering 27. talented witless 23. bungling expert 28. quick slow 24. inflexible pliable 29. urban rural 25. cultivated uncouth 30. young old ANTONYMS. IV. 31. dishearten encourage 36. lower raise 32. incite dissuade 37. help hinder 33. destroy renew 38. pardon condemn 34. decorate deface 39. please displease 35. decrease increase 40. promote deter V. 41. assist impede 46. like dislike 42. covet shun 47. authorize prohibit 43. annul confirm 48. take in give out 44. add subtract 49. oppress protect 45. adorn disfigure 50. offend conciliate VI. 51. soothe excite 56. earn spend 52. grieve rejoice 57. starve satiate 53. bring carry 58. attack defend 54. gather scatter 59. hoard squander 55. go come 60. preserve destroy VII. 61. love hate 71. serenity anxiety 62. self-denial self-indulgence 72. courage fear 63. chance necessity 73. energy inertia 64. evil good 74. system confusion 65. citizen alien 75. order chaos 66. moderation excess 76. economy extravagance 67. leader follower 77. health disease 68. panic repose 78. punctuality tardiness 69. confederate adversary 79. courtesy rudeness 70. friend enemy 80. learning ignorance 40 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 32. Find both synonyms and antonyms for the italicized words in the following selection. THE THREE GOLDEN APPLES. (From Hawthorne’s “ Wonder Book.”) Nothing was before him, save the foaming, dashing^ measureless ocean. But, suddenly, as he looked towards the horizon, he saw something, a great way off, which he had not seen the moment before. It gleamed very brightly, almost as you may have beheld the round, golden disk of the sun, when it rises or sets over the edge of the world. It evidently drew nearer ; for, at every instant, this wonderful object became larger and more lustrous. At length, it had come so nigh that Hercules discovered it to be an immense cup or bowl, made either of gold or burnished brass. How it had got afloat upon the sea is more than I can tell you. There it was, at all events, rolling on the tumultuous billows, which tossed it up and down, and heaved their foamy tops against its sides, but without ever throwing their spray over the brim. SECTION 33. FOKMATION OF ANTONYMS. An antonym is often formed by prefixing dis, in, or un to a word. Thus, — agree, disagree; discreet, indis- creet; wise, unwise. Bring to the class fifty words with antonyms formed as indicated above. Be prepared to use these words with their antonyms in appropriate sentences. ANTONYMS. 41 SECTION 34. Study the following proverbs to discover their mean- ing. Observe especially the words and phrases by means of which contrast is expressed. 1. The way of the fool is right in his own eyes, but he that hearkeneth unto counsel is wise. 2. The lip of truth shall be established forever, but a lying tongue is but for a moment. 3. Lying lips are abomination to the Lord, but they that deal truly are his delight. 4. The hand of the diligent shall bear rule, but the slothful shall be under tribute. 5. There is that maketh himself rich, yet hath nothing. There is that maketh himself poor, yet hath great riches. 6. He that is slow to wrath is of great understanding, but he that is hasty of spirit exalteth folly. 7. Better is a dinner of herbs where love is than a stalled ox and hatred therewith. 8. Better is a little with righteousness than great revenues without right. 9. Better it is to be of an humble spirit with the lowly than to divide the spoil with the proud. SECTION 35. Study the following selection, and point out the means by which contrasts are effectively presented. Money never made a man happy yet ; nor will it. There is nothing in its nature to produce happiness. The more a man has, the more he wants. Instead of its filling a vacuum, it makes one. If it satisfies one want, it doubles and trebles that want another way. That was a true proverb of the wise man, rely upon it : Better is little with the fear of the Lord than great treasure and trouble therewith.” — Franklin. 42 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 36. Using the following sentence as an example, construct ten similar sentences, using synonyms and antonyms from the lists that you have just studied (pp. 36-39). If you are dull, inert, and lazy, you will accomplish nothing ; but if you are alert, diligent, and energetic, your success is assured. SECTION 37. Find an antonym for the first word in each exercise in Section 30, so far as that is possible. Use each pair of antonyms in a sentence. SECTION 38. THE SENTENCE AS A UNIT. Composition,* as we have seen, is a process of “put- ting together.” In expressing our thoughts in orderly discourse, whether oral or written, we put together words to make sentences, and sentences to make larger divisions of story, oration, essay, and so on. The process is continuous and identical in its nature, from the simplest combination of subject and predicate, like .“Birds fly,” to a play of Shakspere, a novel of Scott, or the most elaborate scientific or historical treatise. In forming sentences we must take care that every sentence is a unit, — that is, we must not include in a single sentence different ideas that have no obvious connection. The Spartans did not care for literature. The Spartans were stubborn fighters. UNITY. 43 Each of these sentences is a unit. The two state- ments may be combined into — The Spartans despised literature, but they excelled in warfare. This sentence is also a unit, for it characterizes the Spartans by telling what they cared for and what they did not care for. Contrast the case of the two follow- ing sentences : — The Spartans did not care for literature. The Spartans lived in Laconia. It would not be easy to combine these two statements into a single sentence without producing a ridiculous effect. The residence of the Spartans in Laconia and their distaste for literature are not connected ideas. The principle illustrated in what precedes is called the principle of unity. It runs through all forms of composition. 1 To THE Teacher. — A review of certain principles of grammar may- be necessary at this point, as an introduction to Section 39. The extent and minuteness of this review will of course depend on the condition of the pupils’ grammatical knowledge. They should have clearly in mind the difference between compound and complex sentences, the use of adjec- tive and adverbial phrases and clauses, the nature and constructions of participles and infinitives, and, in general, the analysis of the sentence. References to “ The Mother Tongue,” Book II, are added for convenience : §§121-32, 189-211, 427-8, 492-5, 533^0, 572-617. SECTION 39. UNITY. Study the following pairs of sentences and see if they can be combined without violating the principle of unity. 1 For a study of unity in the larger sense, see Part III. 44 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 1, The inhabitants of these islands are very barbarous. The inhabitants of these islands live principally on raw fish. » 2. Napoleon was a great conqueror. Napoleon wore a long riding coat at the Battle of Leipzig. 3. Thus Wallace’s party grew stronger and stronger. Many of the Scottish nobles joined Wallace. c 4. John Oxenford lived in Clifton Terrace. His favorite author was Sir Walter Scott. 5. The natives of the Andaman Islands were said to be ignorant of the use of fire. These natives were firm believers in witchcraft. 6. Five or six men were seated on logs and stools round the great chimney. The herdsmen were eating their supper of bread and cheese. ‘7. King Charles I was beheaded. The news of the king’s death was everywhere received with a thrill of horror. 8. At last they found means to carry their meal to a mill near Woodford. They had their meal ground at this mill. 9. The scantiness of his purse was notorious. Goldsmith was forced to live in obscure lodgings. 10. Columbus landed in 1492. Sebastian Cabot sailed from Bristol in 1497 and pushed along the coast of America to the south as far as Florida. ,11. My copy of Shakspere is in ten volumes. The plays of Shakspere were very popular in his own time . See into how many short sentences the following passage may be cut up. The dream of finding a passage to Asia by a voyage round the northern coast of the American continent drew a west-country seaman, Martin Frobisher, to the coast of Labrador, and the news which he brought back of the existence of gold mines there set adventurers cruising among the icebergs of Bafiin’s Bay, VARIETY AND SMOOTHNESS. 45 SECTION 40. YAEIETY AND SMOOTHNESS. Read the following description aloud : — EVENING AT THE DOCTOR’S. The clock of St. George’s had struck five. Mrs. Dove had just poured out the Doctor’s seventh cup of tea. The Doctor was sitting in his armchair. Sir Thomas was purring upon the Doctor’s knees. Pompey stood looking up to Mrs. Dove. He wagged his tail. Sometimes he whined with a short note of impatience. Sometimes he gently put his paw against Mrs. Dove’s apron. This was to remind her that he wished for another bit of bread and butter. Barnaby was gone to the farm. Nobs was in the stable. You observe that this passage is grammatical and written in good pure English. It is so vivid that, although you may know nothing of the story, you can- not fail to understand the situation. You can have no doubt that the Doctor lived near St. George’s Church and that his name was Dove. It is equally clear that Sir Thomas was the Doctor’s cat, Pompey his dog, Barnaby his servant, and Nobs his horse. Yet the passage is not quite agreeable to read. It is chopped up into a number of short sentences of about the same length, and no attempt is made to enable you to pass easily from one to another. To read a whole book written in this style, or even a dozen pages, would be pretty hard work. Now read the same passage in the form in which it was actually composed by the author, Robert Southey. 46 THE MOTHER TONGUE. The clock of St. George’s had struck five. Mrs. Dove had just poured out the Doctor’s seventh cup of tea. The Doctor was sitting in his armchair. Sir Thomas was purring upon his knees ; and Pompey stood looking up to his mistress, wagging his tail, sometimes whining with a short note of impatience, and some- times gently putting his paw against her apron to remind her that he wished for another bit of bread and butter. Barnaby was gone to the farm ; and Nobs was in the stable. This is something very different. Though the words have hardly been changed at all, the passage produces an entirely different effect. Comparing the two, we find that in the first the sentences are all short and dis- connected ; whereas in the second there is considerable variety in their length and structure. This variety is not merely agreeable: it enables us to understand the relations between the different facts. In the first passage, for example, the statement that Pompey wagged his tail is quite as important, apparently, as the statement that the Doctor was sitting in his armchair. Hence one can hardly tell whether the Doctor or Mrs. Dove or Pompey is the chief personage in the story. In the second passage, however, everything is clear. The central figure is manifestly the Doctor, and the purpose of the whole is to describe his household. Such a comparison brings out the importance of variety in sentence structure. We shall return to this sub- ject at a later stage of our studies in composition. Meantime, we cannot help observing its importance in everything we read. In Mr. Riis’s story, for example, see how the first long sentence (p. 10) gives, at one stroke, the whole background of the incident that he is going to tell. VARIETY m SENTENCES. 47 SECTION 41. VARIETY IN SENTENCES. Sameness (or monotony) of style is a fatal fault in composition, for it takes the life out of the most inter- esting subject. Variety, on the other hand, stimulates attention and lends a certain attractiveness to the driest material. The free syntax of our language, together with its large and diversified stock of words, makes variety an easy merit in English writing. The same idea may often be expressed in several different ways by chang- ing the grammatical construction. You have already studied many such “ equivalent constructions ” in your lessons in grammar. Examples are : adjectives, adjective phrases, and adjective clauses (§§ T21-3, 204-7) ; adverbs, adverbial phrases, and adverbial clauses (§§ 124-31, 195-200) ; nouns and noun clauses (§§ 208-11) ; active and passive (§§ 464-6) ; nouns and infini- tives (§§ 448, 533-6) ; infinitives and clauses of purpose and result (§§ 585-9) ; infinitive clauses (§§ 611-17) ; clauses of cause, time, place, and circumstance, and the nominative absolute (§§ 492-5).i Observe that two equivalent constructions ” often differ in the exact shade of thought or feeling that they express, or, at all events, in emphasis. Compare what was said of synonyms in Section 28. 1 This enumeration will serve as a basis for several review lessons at this point if the pupil’s memory needs refreshing. The references are to “ The Mother Tongue,” Book II, where the exercises attached to the sev- eral chapters afford abundant material for practice in connection with such reviews. 48 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 42. ' Write ten sentences containing a nominative absolute (with a participle). Substitute a clause for the nomina- tive absolute whenever this is possible. In each of your sentences, substitute a prepositional phrase, if it can be done without spoiling the style. SECTION 43. See in how many ways you can change Franklin’s sentences on page 9 without materially affecting the sense. SECTION 44. Study the following sentence from Lamb : — Taking the dagger in his hand, Macbeth softly stole in the dark to the chamber where Duncan lay. You observe that the constructions may be varied in a number of ways. Thus, — 1. Instead of the present participle taking^ we might use the perfect participle (having taken)^ or a clause of time (when he had taken) ^ or a prepositional phrase (after taking)^ or a nominative absolute (dagger in hand), 2. Instead of the adjective clause where Duncan lay, we might use a genitive {Duncan^ s chamber)^ or an of- phrase {the chamber of Duncan),, or an adjective (the royal chamber). Make the sentence over, in different ways, on the basis of these suggestions, and tell whether you think it is improved by the several changes. VARIETY IN SENTENCES. 49 SECTION 45. Study the following sentences in accordance with the plan described in Section 44. . 1. Being weary they fell asleep. 2. Taking an affectionate leave of my kind and interesting young hosts, I went my way. 3. Seeing a crowd of people in the street, I joined with them to satisfy my curiosity, and found them all staring up into the air. 4. We set out in the evening by moonlight, and travelled hard, the road being very plain and large, till we came to Grantham . - 5. There lay before me, extending completely across my path, a thicket. 6. He often laid his ear within two yards of me ; but all in vain, for we were wholly unintelligible to each other. 7. One begins to see in this country the first promises of an Italian spring, clear unclouded skies and warm suns, such as are not often felt in England. 8. Everard recollected the fiery, high, and unbending character of Sir Henry Lee, and felt, even when his fingers were on the latch, a reluctance to intrude himself upon the presence of the irritable old knight. ^ 9. Foiled in an attempt on North Carolina by the refusal of his fellow-general. Sir Henry Clinton, to assist him. Lord Corn- wallis fell back in 1781 on Virginia, and intrenched himself in the lines of Yorktown. 10. Wild and savage insurrection quitted the woods, and prowled about our streets in the name of reform. 11. The swallow, oft, beneath my thatch Shall twitter from her clay-built nest ; Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch. And share my meal, a welcome guest. 50 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 46. In each of the following sentences, substitute a parti- cipial or a prepositional phrase for the clause indicating time. vl. When I had watered my horse, I turned him loose to graze. 2. I must now relate what occurred to me a few days before the ship sailed. 3. It must have been raining cats and dogs ever since I had been out. 4. After the proclamation had been read, the crowd dispersed, little by little. *5. As he approached they raised a rueful cry. 6. I shall be in town when November comes in. Have you improved or injured the passages, or have your changes made them neither better nor worse ? SECTION 47. An infinitive construction may often be substituted for a clause, or a clause for an infinitive construction. Thus, — 1. He was so frightened that he could not speak. He was too frightened to speak. 2. The board was adjusted so that it covered the trapdoor. The board was so adjusted as to cover the trapdoor. 3. My purpose was that the wall should be undermined. My purpose was to undermine the wall. 4. He toiled that he might procure bread for his children. He toiled to procure bread for his children. Make similar substitutions in the following sentences. VARIETY IN SENTENCES. 51 5. Mr. Williams seems to have lost the power of acting intelli- gently. [It seems that, etc.] 6. The rising waters seemed to cut off their retreat and their advance. 7. I saw him change color and bite his lip. 8. Even Cromwell was powerless to break the spirit which now pervaded the soldiers. 9. The emperor held frequent council to debate what course should be taken with me. 10. Five hundred men were set at work that the great building might be ready. • 11. The queen’s earnest wish is for you to act the part of a mediator. 12. I am sorry that I must leave you in this difficulty. • 13. The traveller was so exhausted that he could not speak. 14. The river was so high that it flooded the city. 15. The colonel ordered that the forces should set out at daybreak. 16. The crew sacrificed themselves that the passengers might be saved. SECTION 48. CONDENSED EXPRESSIONS. It is often possible to condense a clause or a long phrase into a word or two. Thus, — 1. I have no doubt that the confusion was great. No doubt the confusion was great. 2. While this was happening, the cavalry had come up. Meanwhile the cavalry had come up. 3. They started without a momenfs delay (or, instantly), 4. It is certain tho,t the report is false. The report is certainly false. 5. He was agitated and paced the floor. He paced the floor in agitation. 52 THE MOTHER TONGUE. I. Substitute condensed expressions for the italicized por- tions of the following sentences. 6. She wondered how it was that they could both be alive. 7. Almost everybody knows some one thing, and is glad to talk about that one thing, ' 8. He uttered his words carefully and with deliberation, 9. I always read a poem in the morning, before I sit down to breakfast. 10. The Declaration of Independence was signed on the fourth day of the month of July, in the year of our Lord 1776. 11. He lay awake through the long hours of the night. 12. A farmer lohose name was Binnock was the first to enlist. 13. The president of the company was a man by the name of Johnson. 14. He rose, and, when he had mounted his horse, rode off at a gallop. It must not be supposed that the condensed phrases are ‘‘better English” than the longer expressions. Both have their place in composition. The nature of our subject and the effect that we wish to produce must determine our choice of words. II. Expand the italicized expressions in an appropriate way. 1. Amazed, he stares around. 2. All the night it was stormy and dark. 3. She held out her hands in icelcome. 4. Meanwhile the rain had begun with fury. 5. The woods were soon burning. 6. The sailor swam vigorously. 7. This done, they embarked for Calais. VARIETY. 53 SECTION 49. 1. Turn to Franklin’s ‘‘First Day in Philadelphia” (p. 8). State in simple sentences all that the author has told in the first paragraph. See how many such sentences can be made from the paragraph. 2. Combine in any way that pleases you the sentences that you have made in Exercise 1, attempting at the same time to tell Franklin’s story. Point out the advantages of this construction over that in Exercise 1. 3. Study the second paragraph of the “ Battle of Bannockburn ” (pp. 11-12). Treat the paragraph as in Exercises 1 and 2. 4. Study the first two paragraphs of the anecdote in Sec- tion 13. Rewrite the paragraplis, using simple sentences. Then note what is lost in the rearrangement. 5. Select an interesting item of perhaps ten lines from a news- paper or magazine. Enumerate in simple sentences the facts which are stated or suggested in the paragraph. Read your list to the class, asking the other pupils to write the paragraph from your enumeration. Compare the paragraphs which they write, and see how many of these have really expressed the fact stated in the original. SECTION 50. Unite in a single sentence all the items in each of the first five exercises below. 1. The Provincial Congress was. at Concord. The Continental Congress was at Philadelphia. The Provincial Congress sent a message to the Continental Congress. It asked the Continental Congress to make the army a continental army. It asked the Continental Congress to appoint a commander-in-chief. 2. A brave people lived a long time ago. These people were called Romans. They were warlike. They lived more than eighteen hundred years ago. They undertook to conquer the whole world. They undertook to subdue all countries. Their 54 THE MOTHER TONGUE. purpose was to make their own city of Rome the head of all nations. They wished to conquer all nations upon the face of the earth. 3. A song was sung by the choir. It was sung for the occa- sion. It was sung with perfect harmony. It was sung wdth unity. It was so sung that it seemed like some glorious instru- ment touched by a single hand. ' 4. The greater part of Frankfort is built in the old German style. Some houses are six stories high. Some houses are seven stories high. Every story projects over that below it. Those who live in the attics can nearly shake hands out of the window^s. 5. Investigation of the earth’s crust teaches us. It shows us that a chain stretches down from the first plants to those of to-day. It shows us that a chain stretches down from the first animals to those of to-day. This chain is mighty. Its links are living. It shows the order in which the plants succeeded each other. It shows the order in which the animals succeeded each other. 6. Select well-written complex sentences from your reading. Separate them into parts, as in the previous exercise. Bring your sentences to the class and ask the other pupils to reconstruct the sentences from the fragments given. To THE Teacher. — The exercises in Sections 49 and 50 ought to show that it is the thought which determines the order of the sentence. Whether the fragments shall appear in one way or another depends upon the rela- tion which they assume in the mind of the speaker. If the thoughts are isolated and fragmentary, the sentences will he brief, jerky, and monoto- nous. If the thoughts are clear and well-governed, the writer will use clear and well-arranged sentences. SECTION 51. In the following exercise you will find fragments of sentences — words, phrases, and clauses. Put them together in any way that you like, or in as many ways as you choose. VARIETY. 55 In the class, compare your sentences with those made by the other pupils out of the same material, and observe the variety of thought and expression. 1 . Four large frogs were sunning themselves. They were in front of me. They were near the shore. They were in the shallow water. They were among the lily pads. 2. Perseus looked up to the heaven above his head. It was still. He looked down. The sand was still beneath his feet. Above, there was nothing but the blinding sun. The blinding sun was in the blinding blue. Around him there was nothing but the sand. The sand was blinding. 3. I had sown sweet peas. I had two great patches of sweet peas. They made me haj^py all summer. I had sunflowers. I had hollyhocks, also. The sunflowers and hollyhocks were under the study windows. Madonna lilies grew between the holly- hocks and sunflowers. The colors of the hollyhocks turned out to be ugly. My first summer was decorated and beautified solely by sweet peas. 4. The coachman is seventy years old. His name is Peter. He was born on the place. He has driven its occupants for fifty years. AVe are very fond of him. 5. Centuries ago in a valley a little fern leaf grew the fern was green and slender its veins were delicate it waved in the wind and bent low tall rushes grew around it moss and grass grew around it sunbeams came fanned the dew fell on it by night no man ever saw it no foot of man ever came that way then earth was young then earth was keeping holiday. SECTION 52. Study the following sentences. Note the thought which is expressed in each. Expand each sentence in various ways and note how the sentence changes as the thought is modified. 56 THE MOTHER TONGUE. To THE Teacher. — These exercises should be written by every pupil. The results should be compared in the class, so that all may note the variety of the results obtained. Example. — The boy studies. The earnest boy studies faithfully. The boy studies when he must. That careless boy studies only when he cannot avoid it. The boy who sits in the corner studies as if it were a pleasure. 1. The ship was finished. 2. They felled the pines. 3. The heroes listened. 4. The harper played. 5. My father came. 6. The fates decree. 7. The craven faltered. 8. Edison invented. 9. The poet wrote. 10. The torrent roared. 11. Jason went away. 12. The old man looked. 13. They rowed away. 14. The herald went. 15. The shepherds stood. 16. The servant ran. 17. The prince sent. 18. Cornwallis surrendered, 19. The helmsman steered. 20. The Indians halted. SECTION 53. In the following passage observe how one long sen- tence is built up on the basis of a simple statement by means of modifiers. See how many simple sentences you can make out of the passage. The Saracen came on at the speedy gallop of an Arab horse- man, managing his steed more by his limbs and the inflection of his body than by any use of the reins, which hung loose in his left hand; so that he was enabled to wield the light, round buckler of the skin of the rhinoceros, ornamented with silver loops, which he wore on his arm, swinging it as if he meant to oppose its slender circle to the formidable thrust of the Western lance. — Scott. VARIETY AND EMPHASIS. 67 SECTION 54. VARIETY AND EMPHASIS. There is another use for yariety in sentences. In speaking, we use emphasis to assist the hearer in under- standing exactly what we mean. In writing, it is not always easy to indicate such emphasis. Yet, unless the reader knows which words or phrases are meant to be emphatic, he may lose the effect of a whole sentence. In verse the metre is of assistance. In prose we must trust much to the reader’s intelligence, but some help is afforded by the order of words. Study the following passages and indicate such words, or groups of words, as seem to you emphatic. Test your opinion by reading each sentence aloud. Do you see anything peculiar about the position of these words? Change the order and note the effect. 1 . These, therefore, I can pity. 2. In the night it blew very hard, and a great sea tumbled in upon the shore ; but, being extremely fatigued, we in the boats went to sleep. 3. Even in sleep, however, my fancy was still busy; and a dream, so vivid as to leave behind it the impression of reality, thus passed through my mind. 4. Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them Printing their proud hoofs i’ the receiving earth. 5. Never was such a sudden scholar made. 6. A black day will it be to somebody. 7. Some war, some plague, some famine they foresee. 8. The fur that warms a monarch, warmed a bear. 9. What a delicious veranda is this to dream in ! 58 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 10. By good luck I got an excellent place in the best part of the house. 11. There fell a thick and heavy rain, and the ground on which the beleaguering army must needs take up their position was muddy and intersected with many canals. 12. Tier beyond tier, height above height, the great wooded ranges go rolling away westward, till on the lofty sky-line they are crowned with a gleam of everlasting snow. 13. With blackest moss the flower-pots Were thickly crusted, one and all. 14. Far as the eye can reach up the glen, and to the right, it is one horrid w^aste of gray granite ; here and there a streak of yellow grass or a patch of black bog ; not a tree or a shrub within the sky-line. SECTION 55. METHODS OF EMPHASIS. Your study of the sentences in Section 54 has shown you that every variation from the simplest order of words makes a difference in emphasis. Thus, in the first example, the object is put before the subject and the verb ; in the fifth, an adverb comes first, and the subject follows icas ; in the tenth, the adverbial modifier hy good luck begins the sentence. To THE Teacher. — Such variations cannot be reduced to hard-and- fast rules. The student should “read authors” and observe how they arrange their w'ords and clauses. He may then try to reproduce the simpler effects in his own writing. The hints that follow will be of some assistance. From the outset, however, he should be warned against violent or affected distortions. A word, phrase, or clause is often emphasized by coming before the subject of the sentence. METHODS OF EMPHASIS. 59 The simple subject and the predicate verb may both become emphatic when they change places in the sen- tence or clause. This is called the inverted order.” The object may be emphasized by making it precede the verb. The end of a clause or sentence is often an emphatic position. Study the following sentences and notice the position of the emphatic words. 1. Be secret and be safe. 2. Then would come a fit of despondency, almost of despair. 3. Here giant weeds a passage scarce allow To halls deserted, portals gaping wide. 4. It ’s hard to part with the old farm and the old faces now. 5. Few parliaments have ever been more memorable, or more truly representative of the English people, than the parliament of 1654. 6. False face must hide what the false heart doth know. 7. His eyes grew brighter, his bearing more majestic, his heart softer towards his fellow-creatures. 8. This house is mine. Go ! I will never forget and never forgive. Go ! 9. A vast confusion of formless rocks crosses the stream, torturing it into a hundred boiling pools and hissing cascades. 10. Young men are fitter to invent than to judge. 11. We are no tyrant, but a Christian king. 12. A wise man changes his mind, a fool never will. 13. Next to being too late, being too soon is the worst plan in the world. 14. I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry. 15. His features are strong and masculine, with an Austrian lip and arched nose ; his complexion olive, his bearing erect, his body and limbs well proportioned, all his motions graceful, and his deportment majestic. 60 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 56. 1. Pick out of Franklin’s ‘‘First Day in Philadelphia” (pp. 8-9) five examples of emphasis obtained by the arrange- ment of the sentences. 2. Study the whole of “The Story of a Fire” (p. 10), with especial attention to the means by which variety and emphasis are secured. ' 3. Study Tennyson’s “ Charge of the Light Brigade.” Pick out the sentences in which emphasis has been secured by unusual arrangement of the parts of the sentence. 4. Write ten simple sentences each of wLich states some familiar fact or relates some incident which has happened in the schoolroom. See in how many ways you can rewrite each sen- tence so as to bring the emphasis upon different phases of the thought. 5. Rewrite five sentences in Section 54, and observe the changes in emphasis that result. 6. Study the following stanzas from Campbell’s “ Hohenlin- den.” Observe the emphasis secured by varying the order of the sentence. By torch and trumpet fast arrayed. Each horseman drew his battle-blade. And furious every charger neighed. To join the dreadful revelry. Then shook the hills with thunder riven. Then rushed the steed to battle driven. And louder than the bolts of heaven Far flashed the red artillery. And redder yet that light shall glow On Linden’s hills of stained snow ; And bloodier yet the torrent flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. EFFECTIVENESS OF SENTENCES. 61 SECTION 57. We have already studied variety in sentences and have seen that different forms (simple or complex) produce very different effects. We may observe similar differences in the compara- tive effectiveness of declarative, interrogative, imperative, and exclamatory sentences. Change the following sentences in form, and see whether each gains or loses in effectiveness. 1. What a frightful road this is for me to travel ! 2. How quick the change from joy to woe ! How checker’d is our lot below ! 3. Will you be patient? Will you stay awhile? 4. What a dignity there is in the Roman language! 5. Will you forgive me if I have pained you? 6. Where is the packet? Why should you lose a moment? 7. Was there ever anything so delightful? 8. And yet what harmony was in him! what music even in his discords ! 9. How bright and happy this world ought to be ! 10. When others praise him, do I blame? 11. The songs of spring have departed. 12. Luckless man that I am ! ” said the notary. 13. Ah ! well-a-day ! what evil looks Had I from old and young ! 14. Wherever I turn, what a labyrinth of doubt, error, and disappointment appears ! 15. How would a Chinese, bred up in the formalities of an Eastern court, be regarded, should he carry all his good manners beyond the Great Wall? How would an Englishman, skilled in all the decorums of Western good breeding, appear at an Eastern entertainment? Would he not be reckoned more fantastically savage than even his underbred footman? 62 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 58. PARAGRAPHS. Arrangement of material is, as we have seen (p. 25), a matter of great importance in even the simplest story. Unless the story is very short (not more than a few lines in , length), the natural way to indicate this arrange- ment, in its larger divisions, is by paragraphing. 1 Read the following passage and observe that it is not printed in one mass, but is divided into paragraphs. THE BIRD. The bird is little more than a drift of the air brought into form by plumes ; the air is in all its quills, it breathes through its whole frame and flesh, and glows with air in its flying, like blown flame: it rests upon the air, subdues it, surpasses it, out- races it ; — is the air, conscious of itself, conquering itself, ruling itself. Also, into the throat of the bird is given the voice of the air. All that in the wind itself is weak, wild, useless in sweetness, is knit together in its song. As we may imagine the wild form of the cloud closed into the perfect form of the bird’s wings, so the wild voice of the cloud into its ordered and commanded voice; unwearied, rippling through the clear heaven in its gladness, interpreting all intense passion through the soft spring nights, bursting into acclaim and rapture of choir at daybreak, or lisping and twittering among the boughs and hedges through heat of day, like little winds that only make the cowslip bells shake, and ruffle the petals of the wild rose. Also, upon the plumes of the bird are put the colors of the air : on these the gold of the cloud, that cannot be gathered by any covetousness ; the rubies of the clouds, the vermilion of the cloud- bar, and the flame of the cloud-crest, and the snow of the cloud, PARAGRAPHS. 63 and its shadow, and the melted blue of the deep wells of the sky — all these, seized by the creating spirit, and w^oven into films and threads of plume ; with wave on wave following and fading along breast, and throat, and opened wings, infinite as the dividing of the foam and the sifting of the sea-sand ; — even the white down of the cloud seeming to flutter up between the stronger plumes, seen, but too soft for touch. — Ruskin. Examine the paragraphs in this selection. You will find that each paragraph is a unit, — that is, it treats of a particular thing or idea or phase of the subject. It would be easy for you to give a brief title to each paragraph which would indicate its contents. Thus the first paragraph might be entitled ‘‘ The Air in the Bird ” ; the second, ‘‘ The Voice of the Bird”; the third, ‘‘ The Colors of the Bird.” In other words, the para- graphs observe the principle of unity. Every piece of prose of any length is divided into sections called paragraphs, each of which treats of a particular point or phase of the subject. A very brief composition, relating to a single point, and not subdivided, is also called a paragraph. Every paragraph should observe the principle of unity. In writing and printing, the first line of every paragraph is indented, — that is, it begins a little farther to the right than the other lines. The wdimQ paragraph comes from two Greek words and means “ some- thing written at the side.” It was originally applied to the mark which was put in the margin to call attention to the beginning of a new section or division of the writing; later the name was transferred to the section itself. 64 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 59. Turn to one of the selections on pages 8~16. Read it paragraph by paragraph, and try to give the subject of each paragraph in the form of a brief title. In this exercise you are observing the unity of the paragraph. If the paragraph really deals with a single point, one should be able to mention that point. Use the same test in your own writing. To THE Teacher. — Exercises of this kind may be multiplied accord- ing to the needs of the pupil. Passages from text-books in history and from works of English literature may he used in the same way. The comparison of the paragraph with the stanza will he found useful. But the pupil should be reminded that most stanzas are rigidly fixed as to their form, — whereas the length and form of the paragraph depend largely on the purpose of the writer, — and further, that the poet is not hound to observe unity in his stanza. The difference consists, of course, in the fact that the stanza is primarily a division with respect to form, and the paragraph a division with respect to thought. SECTION 60. WRITTEN CONVERSATION. In reporting a conversation, each speech, however short, is usually written or printed as a paragraph. Thus, The children had been reading about the war in Cuba. Does any one know what a furlough is ? ” asked the teacher. Yes,’’ replied a small boy. A furlough is a mule.” The children smiled. a Why do you think so ? ” asked the teacher. I know it is,” answered the small boy. I have a picture to prove it.” The lad produced iiis picture. It was called ‘‘Off on a Fur- lough,” and represented a soldier riding on a mule. THE PARAGRAPH AND THE STANZA. 65 SECTION 61. Write a short paragraph about the War with Spain. Take care that your paragraph does not include too much. Criticise your own paragraph with regard to unity. SECTION 62. THE PARAGEAPH ANTD THE STANTZA. Observe that the paragraph in prose is very much what the stanza is in verse, though its form and length are not fixed as in the case of the stanza.^ Find some poem that is composed of separate stanzas. Examine each stanza as you examined the paragraphs in Section 59, and try to give a brief title to each. SECTION 63. Tell the story of some poem with which you are familiar. Write the story, point by point, taking care that each paragraph shall deal with one particular point or inci- dent in the narrative. Compare your prose story with the poem and see if the paragraphs correspond to the stanzas in number and contents. If they do not, tell why. 1 For stanzas and their structure, see Appendix. 66 THE MOTHEE TONGUE. SECTION 64. Write two or three paragraphs about one of the fol- lowing subjects^: — Some wild animal; a walk in winter; a visit to Canada; a visit to Louisiana; the Romans; the North American Indians; war and peace; football; tennis; boating; swimming; rivers; the sea ; a mountain ; a storm ; our national government ; an election ; farming ; mining. SECTION 65. You are called upon to describe your town or city to a stranger. What points ought you to mention ? Write down these points as they occur to you, giving a sentence to each. Arrange the points in an orderly manner, beginning with the name and situation of your town. Write a single paragraph on the first of these heads ; on the second ; on the third. SECTION 66. Observe that paragraphs are not formed by cutting up continuous discourse into mechanical lengths, any more than stanzas are made by cutting up poetry. On the contrary, continuous discourse grows by adding paragraph to paragraph, as our thoughts pass from point to point of the subject in orderly succession. Copy carefully the following extract from Ruskin.^ 1 The teacher may use this material for several lessons. 2 In this exercise the pupil should be led to observe the growth of the author’s thought and the correspondence between the paragraphs and the development of the meaning. PARAGRAPHS. 67 THE SOCIETY OF GOOD BOOKS. We cannot know whom we would ; and those whom we know we cannot have at our side when we most need them. Y^et there is a society continually open to us, of people who will talk to us as long as we like, — talk to us in the best words they can choose, and of the things nearest their hearts. And this society, because it is so numerous and so gentle, and can be kept waiting around us all daylong, — kings and statesmen lingering patiently, not to grant audience, but to gain it ! — in those plainly furnished and narrow anterooms, our bookcase shelves, — we make no account of that company, — perhaps never listen to a word they would say, all day long ! Suppose you could be put behind a screen, should you not be glad to listen to their words, though you were forbidden to advance beyond the screen? And when the screen is only a little less, folded in two instead of four, and you can be hidden behind the cover of the two boards that bind a book, and listen all day long, not to the casual talk, but to the studied, determined, chosen addresses of the wisest of men, — this station of audience, and honorable privy council, you despise ! This eternal court is always open to you, with its society wide as the world, multitudinous as its days, the chosen, and the mighty, of every place and time. Into that you may enter always ; in that you may take fellowship and rank according to your wish ; from that, once entered into it, you can never be an outcast but by your own fault. It is open to labor and to merit, but to nothing else. 'No wealth will bribe, no name overawe, no artifice deceive, the guardian of those Elysian gates. In the deep sense, no vile or vulgar person ever enters there. Do you deserve to enter ? Pass. Do you ask to be the com- panion of nobles ? Make yourself noble, and you shall be. Do you long for the conversation of the wise ? Learn to understand it, and you shall hear it. But on other terms? — no. If you will not rise to us, we cannot stoop to you.” 68 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 67. Write in your own words the substance of the extract that you copied in Section 66. When you have written your version, see if you have divided it into paragraphs properly. If the paragraphs are correct, tell why they are cor- rect. If they are incorrect, make them right. SECTION 68. Write an account of a real or imaginary excursion to some interesting place. Let your story consist of several paragraphs : (1) the object of the excursion ; (2) your party ; (3) your jour- ney ; (4) the place ; (5) your return. SECTION 69. Examine the sentences in two paragraphs of the compo- sition in Section 68, and tell whether they are units. If any of the sentences do not observe the principle of unity, see if you can correct them. SECTION 70. Examine the composition of some other member of the class and tell whether his paragraphs are units. SECTION 71. Describe the appearance and habits of some animal. Your description will contain at least two paragraphs. What will be the subject of the first ? of the second ? PARAGRAPHS. 69 SECTION 72. Make notes for a composition of three or four para- graphs about England. Exchange your notes with your neighbor. Write the paragraphs suggested by his notes. SECTION 73. Your study of Ruskin (pp. 66-67) has shown you that the arrangement of the paragraphs in a composition is a matter of great importance. The principle is simple: — The succession of paragraphs should agree with the natural order of the thought. The same principle applies to the arrangement of sentences within the paragraph. Study the first paragraph on page 67. What thought does it express? Of how many sen- tences does it consist ? What is the thought contained in each? Does the arrangement of the sentences bring out these thoughts in a natural order? Study the other paragraphs in the same way. You have now arrived at four important principles : — 1. Every sentence should be a unit. 2. Every paragraph should also be a unit. 3. The sentences in a paragraph should follow the order of thought. 4. The paragraphs in a composition should also follow the order of thought. Try to observe these principles in everything that you write, whether letters, essays, or written “ tests.” 70 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 74. STUDY OF PARAGRAPHS. Study each paragraph in the selections in accordance with the following plan : — , 1. Read the paragraph, to get at its meaning. 2. Determine the subject. 3. Tell the substance of the paragraph in your own words. 4. Make brief notes of its contents. 5. Rewrite the selection from your notes. To THE Teacher. — These exercises may be continued with selections from text-books in history, literature, and science. 1. It grew dark as we stood in the office talking, and, taking our hats, we went out together. The narrow street of business was deserted. The heavy iron shutters were gloomily closed over the windows. From one or two offices struggled the dim gleam of an early candle, by whose light some perplexed accountant sat belated, and hunting for his error. A careless clerk passed, whistling. But the great tide of life had ebbed. We heard its roar far away, and the sound stole into that silent street like the murmur of the ocean into an inland dell. — Curtis. 2. We might fill up far more than an hour in speaking of those voices which come to us as nature is at work. Think of the patter of the rain, how each drop as it hits the pavement sends circles of sound-waves out on all sides ; or the loud report which falls on the ear of the Alpine traveller as the glacier cracks on its way down the valley; or the mighty boom of the avalanche as the snow slides in huge masses off the side of the lofty mountain. Each and all of these create their sound-waves, large or small, loud or feeble, which make their way to your ear, and become converted into sound. — Arabella Buckley.^ 1 From “ Fairyland of Science.” TRANSITION. 71 3. The room was as neat as Janet or my aunt. As I laid down my pen, a moment since, to think of it, the air from the sea came blowing in again, mixed with the perfume of the flowers ; and I saw the old-fashioned furniture brightly rubbed and pol- ished, my aunt’s inviolable chair and table by the round green fan in the bow-window, the drugget-covered carpet, the cat, the kettle-holder, the two canaries, the old china, the punch-bowl full of dried rose-leaves, the tall press guarding all sorts of bottles and pots, and, wonderfully out of keeping with the rest, my dusty self upon the sofa, taking note of everything. — Dickens. SECTION 75. TRANSITION. A good writer does not force his readers to jump from sentence to sentence and from paragraph to paragraph. He smooths the path for them, so that they go on by easy stages, without great effort or undue delay. In other words, a good writer is careful about transition. Transition (from the Latin tranSy “across,” and ire, “to go”) means simply “ the act or process of crossing ” (as a stream or mountain range). Read over “ The Society of Good Books ” (p. 67), and observe how easy you find it to follow the writer’s thought. Transition is assisted by a careful arrangement of words, so that the end of one sentence leads up to the beginning of another ; or, in paragraphs, by similar care in the arrangement of sentences. Frequently, too, a whole sentence is needed, not for anything new that it has to tell, but merely for the help it gives in showing the connection of thought. In a long essay, a paragraph may be needed for precisely the same purpose. 72 THE MOTHER TONGUE. An easy passage (transition) from sentence to sen- tence is often effected by the use of words and phrases like however^ nevertheless^ thus^ hence^ also^ so^ in this way^ such. These connectives, however, should not be used idly, — merely to fill up ” or “ make the sentence smooth.” They have their several meanings and assist in expressing the connection of thought. A pronoun referring to a noun in the preceding sen- tence often serves the purpose of transition. Careless speakers and writers have a habit, in telling a story, of tacking their sentences together with ancZ’s. A moment’s thought will show how slovenly this habit is, even in ordinary conversation. But is also over-used by many persons. To THE Teacher. — The principle of transition should now be studied in passages of some length, and for this purpose the particular piece of literature which the pupils are reading may be utilized. The bad effect of omitting transitional particles, phrases, and sentences from a smooth piece of connected prose may be made clear to the youngest pupils by experiment. SECTION 76. Write at least three paragraphs about one of the sub- jects in the following list. Your composition may take the form of a report of something that you have learned in studying history, geography, or science. The Surrender of Cornwallis. Major Andre. The Study of Ferns. King Philip’s War. The Great River Systems. Magna Charta. Burgoyne’s Invasion. Ethan Allen. The Continental Congress. Early Life in Virginia. The Spaniards in California. Electricity and Rapid Transit. ORAL COMPOSITION. 73 SECTION 77. OUTLINES FOR ORAL COMPOSITION. Prepare to talk for two minutes upon one of the following subjects. Your preparation may consist in observing the thing which you are to describe, in reading about it, or in talking about it with people who know more than you do. Make notes of what you see, hear, and read ; think carefully about the subject, and be ready to talk clearly in the order presented in the outline. Speak distinctly, slowly enough to make it easy to follow your meaning, and in a pleasant tone. Pronounce your words accurately, not clipping or slurring them as in rapid and careless conversation. Think of your hearers rather than of yourself. 1. A schoolboy’s Saturday. a. What he planned to do. h. What he did. 2. Describe a church in your town. a. General appearance, — site, style of architecture, size, material. h. Interior. 3. My pencil. a. Tell just what it is. h. The manufacture of pencils. (Learn all that you can about it, by conversation or reading.) (a) Materials used. (&) Sources of materials. (c) Process of manufacture. (d) Well-known firms engaged in the manufacture of pencils. c. Persons who need to use pencils. 74 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 4. How to build a fire. a. Preparation of the place. h. Collection of materials. c. Arrangement of material. d. Care of the fire. 5. Fuel (wood, coal, coke, oil, gas). a. Source. h. Cost. c. Advantages. d. Disadvantages. 6. Hollyhocks. a. Describe the flowers. h. Tell how to cultivate them. 7. How to care for a lawn. a. Describe a well-kept lawn. b. Describe the means by which a lawn is kept in good condition. 8. How bricks are made. a. What are bricks ? b. From what material are they made ? c. Where are brickyards naturally situated ? d. What is the process of making bricks V 9. Charcoal. a. Tell what it is. b. Describe the manufacture of charcoal. c. Chief uses. (a) For what. (5) By whom. 10. Cranberries. a. The berry. b. The cranberry plant. c. How the cranberry is cultivated. d. Chief sources of supply. e. Uses of the berry. ORAL COMPOSITION. 75 11. How to set up a tent. a. Description of the tent. h. Appropriate place for a tent. c. Process of setting it up. 12. Describe a top. Give directions for spinning it. 13. The building of a schoolhouse. a. Initial steps. By whom are they taken ? h. Authority to build. In whom is it vested ? c. Location of the schoolhouse. What determines it? By whom is the site selected? d. Size of the building. What determines it? Who decides this point? e. The amount to be appropriated and expended. What determines this ? What authority finally decides the matter ? f. Steps taken in securing the plans and locating the building. Outline them. g. Trades represented in the transaction. h. What persons are or should be interested in securing an adequate building ? Why ? 14. Describe an ideal school building. a. Explain the necessary elements. h. Explain the desirable features. Present these from the point of view of (a) the pupil ; (b) the teacher ; (c) the tax-payer. 15. The carpenter. a. What is his work? b. What materials does he work with ? c. What tools does he require ? Describe some of them. d. How does he learn his trade ? e. What studies in school contribute directly to his preparation ? 16. Following the topics outlined in Exercise 15, describe the work of the blacksmith ; the electrician ; the mason ; the plumber ; the merchant. 76 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 17. You intend to live for the next few years in a very warm climate. What changes will this involve — a. In your dress ? 1). In your diet? c. In your habits of life? 18. Describe some game which you like to play, in accordance with the following outline : — a. The players required. h. Materials supplied for the game. c. Object of the game. d. Rules of the game. 19. Should the owners of woodland cut down trees without restriction ? Give reasons for and against such restriction. 20. Relate some incident of your childhood. a. Explain whatever is necessary to make a background for your story. Relate the incident, coming directly to the point. 21. Recite an Indian story. Write a brief outline to aid you in telling it. 22. Describe some contest which you have seen, — for example, a yacht race, a tennis tournament, or a football game. 23. The history of one day. Outline the events of a day spent in visiting some interesting place, as the Yellowstone Park, the Buffalo Exposition, a state university, a manufactory, or a farm. Relate the chief incidents of the day in order, and describe clearly the characteristic features of the scene. 24. Recite an old fairy tale. If possible, secure a short one with a variety of incident. The Grimm Brothers, Mr. Joseph Jacobs, and Mr. Andrew Lang have gathered abundant material from which you may select. 25. Learn some story concerning the history of your native town. Your material may be obtained by conversation with older members of the community, or by reading. Tell the story clearly, applying all that you have learned thus far in composition. LETTER-WRITING. 77 SECTION 78, LETTER -WRITING. Most people use what they know of the art of com- position much more frequently in writing letters than in any other way. Practice in this art enables us to express our thoughts freely, clearly, and agreeably, and thus to make our letters effective as well as pleasant to read. On the other hand, a neglect of the principles of composition confuses the reader and thus defeats the whole purpose of letter-writing. An illegible and badly spelled letter, not divided into paragraphs, and defying all sense of unity, not only annoys the recipient, but may give him a poor opinion of the writer’s intelligence and education. There are two main lines of study and practice which are essential to letter-writing. These are readily shown by an analysis of the following letters. I. [An informal letter from a sister to her brother.] 260 Caroline St., Saratoga, N. Y., Jan. 7, 1902. Dear Frank, I reached Saratoga yesterda}^, after a very pleasant ride througli the Berkshire Hills. The railroad follows the bed of a winding stream, which proved a very agreeable travelling companion. Saratoga is quite as attractive in the winter as in the summer. The pines here are splendid ; and the snow that fell last night makes them look bigger and statelier than ever. We are going out to walk in the woods this afternoon. 78 THE MOTHER TONGUE. I forgot my trunk key, like a goose. I left it on the hall table. Can you send it to me by return mail? Possibly you have sent it already. That would be like you. This letter goes in haste, — merely to tell you of my safe arrival. But there is time to remind you to keep your promise and write to me as often as you can. Your loving sister, Margaret. II. [A friendly letter from a gentleman to a business acquaintance.] 13 Chestnut Terrace, Auburn, N. Y., Oct. 15, 1900. Dear Mr. Thompson, In our conversation last Tuesday, you referred to your son Robert, and mentioned his desire to make a bicycle tour through England and Wales. To-day my cousin, Frank Meade, tells me that he intends to spend next summer in England, and that he is looking for a travelling companion. Frank is a fine fellow, — well-bred, sensible, and trustworthy, a good comrade and an excellent traveller. He graduated from Cornell in '92, and has been abroad three times since. It at once occurred to me that Robert might wish to accompany Frank. They would like each other, I am sure. If you care to consider the matter, I will ask Frank to call upon you, and you can talk it over together. He tells me that he intends to be in Rochester early next week. Sincerely yours, John F. Morgan. Arthur S. Thompson, Esq., 1120 Main St., Rochester, N. Y. LETTER-AVKITING. 79 III. [A business letter, ordering books.] Oakview School, Syracuse, IST.Y., Sept. 11, 1900. Messrs. Abbot, Carnes & Co., 21 Astor Place, New York City. Gentlemen : Please send me, by express, C. O. D., fifty (50) copies of Stuart’s “ Note Books,” No. 3. We need the books at once, and have just discovered that our supply is exhausted. Very truly yours, Marshall T. Brown. These three examples illustrate the common charac- teristics of all letters. Observe, in the first place, that each letter is written for the purpose of conveying a message. That is its main business. It follows, then, that the writer must know how to compose his message, or express his thought, in an appropriate manner — clearly, so that it may be understood, and courteously, so that it may be agreeably received. It is evident that the relation of the writer to the reader determines the style of each letter. No. 1, a letter from a sister to a brother, is altogether informal. The writer speaks of personal pleasures and tastes, assumes her brother’s interest in her agreeable journey and safe arrival, asks his help in recovering the key of her trunk, and gracefully acknowledges his 80 THE MOTHER TONGUE. thoughtfulness. Though the note is brief, she has time to remind her brother of the pleasure which his letters always give her. No. 2 is a friendly letter of a business nature, and is therefore somewhat more formal than No. 1. It presents, in simple and direct language, a matter of interest to the recipient. Observe the manner in which young Mr. Meade is introduced to Mr. Thompson. Study the letter as a composition. No. 3 is a business letter pure and simple, such as pass between people who have business relations merely. It is brief and concise. The second sentence explains the necessity for rapid delivery, and gives the reason for the comparatively small order. Personal allusions are omitted. The statement is brief, definite, and busi- nesslike. Study all three letters carefully. Observe the sen- tences and the paragraphs as well as the general style. SECTION 79. THE PARTS OF A LETTER. The principles which govern all composition apply to letter-writing. The writer should have clearly in mind what he wishes to say, should make his meaning clear, and should express himself in a style appropriate to the occasion. He is helped to do this by the general principles of composition, and, further, by certain rules or customs of arrangement. These rules or customs enable us to make our letters intelligible with the least possible trouble to ourselves THE PARTS OF A LETTER. 81 and our correspondents. A study of tlie three letters on pages 77-79 will make this perfectly clear. For example, we find at the right-hand upper corner of each letter a ‘‘heading,” which includes the address of the writer and the date of writing. From this heading the recipient can tell at a glance how to address his reply. He is not forced to search through the letter to find out where his correspondent resides or is staying. If Margaret omits the address in writing to her brother Frank, she may fail to receive her key. If Mr. Morgan omits his address, Mr. Thompson may be put to the trouble of consulting old letters, or the Directory, before he can reply to the letter. If Mr. Brown omits his address, he may prevent the early delivery of the books which he needs so much. The date is equally important, even in friendly letters. “ I shall be in town to-morrow,” writes Mr. Adams to his son, “and shall take luncheon at the Astor House at one o’clock. Come and lunch with me.” But if the date is omitted from the heading, and the letter happens to be delayed, the son has no means of knowing what day is referred to as “ to-morrow.” Thus a brief study will suffice to show that the for- mal customs which are established in letter-writing are dictated by convenience. Certain forms are generally agreed upon, which it is only sensible to regard. Short notes to intimate friends may dispense with ceremony ; but even in these the settled customs of letter-writing should usually be followed. The following summary will serve as a review of the essential rules which govern the formal arrangement of letters. 82 THE MOTHER TONGUE. A letter consists of the following parts : — I. The heading, which should contain the writer's address in full and the date. Thus, — 260 Caroline St., Saratoga, N.Y., Jail. 7, 1902. Hobart College, Geneva, N. Y., Oct. 8, 1901. Waco, Kas., Feb. 3, 1902. Marshfield, Mass.. Dec. 2, 1900. For the position of the heading, see the letters on pages 77-79. II. The salutation, which takes various forms accord- ing to the relation between the writer and the recipient. Thus, Dear Madam, My dear Sir, My dear Madam, Dear Sirs, Dear Sir, Gentlemen : are appropriate salutations in business letters. “ My dear Sir ” is more formal than “ Dear Sir.” Dear Mr. Jackson, My dear Mrs. Hatch, Dear Mrs. Erroll, My dear Miss Eernald, are proper in friendly letters, or in business letters addressed to a person whom one knows well. Dear James, Dear Uncle, My dear John, Dear Edith, Dear Cousin Mary, My dear Elizabeth, are proper in familiar letters. The salutation may be followed by a comma, by a comma and a dash, by a colon, or by a colon and a dash. The comma is least THE PARTS OF A LETTER. 83 formal. In business letters, the Colon (with or without the dash) is often preferred, especially after Gentlemen. ’’ In formal business letters, it is better to insert the name and address of the recipient before the salutation. See this arrangement in No. 3, on page 79. For the position of the salutation, see pp. 77-79. III. The body of the letter, which consists of the mes- sage itself. This should be legibly and clearly written, in paragraphs, each of which should cover a single point completely. This part of the letter should also be care- fully punctuated, and expressed in a style appropriate to the occasion. IV. The formal closing. This is merely a courteous phrase, indicating the relation in which the writer stands to his correspondent. Thus, in business letters, — Yours truly. Yours sincerely. Very truly yours. Sincerely yours. Respectfully yours. Very sincerely yours. Or, in familiar or affectionate letters, — Faithfully yours. Your loving son. Yours cordially. Yours, with love. Observe that the forms given in the first list are not all suitable for every kind of business letter. Yours truly” or Very truly yours ” will fit almost any such letter. The forms with ‘‘ sincerely ” are more intimate and less formal. ‘‘ Respectfully yours ” should never be used unless special respect is intended. It is proper in writing to a high official or to a person much older 84 THE MOTHER TONGUE. than one’s self. In an ordinary business letter, how- ever, it should not be used. It is in very questionable taste to add Yours respectfully” to an order, ‘ for example, like that in No. 3, p. 79. When in doubt, write ‘‘Very truly yours,” which is always safe. V. The signature. Except in very familiar letters, this is the name of the writer in the form which he habitually uses in signing a document. If the writer is a lady, she should indicate whether she is to be addressed as Miss or as Mrs. This may be done by prefixing the title (in parentheses') to the signature: — (Miss) Alice Atherton. Or the proper form may be written below the signature, and at the left of the page. The name and address of the person for whom a letter is intended are usually placed either above the salutation (as in No. 3, p. 79), or below the signature and at the left of the page (as in No. 2). In familiar letters the latter arrangement is usual, but the address is often omitted. VI. The superscription or the direction, which is written on the envelope, consists of the name and address of the person to whom the letter is sent. Mr. John Eliot Newell 65 State Street Richmond Virginia [Or, — John Eliot Newell, Esq.] Commas are not needed at the ends of lines in the superscription. An abbreviation, however, should of course be followed by a period (as St. for Street). FRIENDLY LETTERS. 85 SECTION 80. FRIENDLY LETTERS. Friendly letters, as we have seen, aim to do rather more than merely to convey information ; they aim to give pleasure as well. In such letters, then, we try to write more vividly than in ordinary business communica- tions ; we describe things that seem likely to interest our friends, and we tell amusing or exciting incidents that have come to our notice. We also express ourselves less formally and with greater freedom. Since your object in such a letter is to make some one understand what you are doing and enter into your feel- ings, you should always consider whether your corre- spondent is already acquainted with the persons or places that you are to mention. If he is not, you will naturally give a good deal of your space to describing them; if he is, you may come to the subject at once, without any preliminary description. Do not neglect the little things of life. The best kind of family letter is that which reproduces the pleasantness of everyday affairs. SECTION 81. 1. Write to your friend Harold Starr, who lives in Grafton, Nebraska, asking him to spend the Christmas holidays with you. Tell him what you will do to make his visit agreeable. 2. Your friend Richard Upham, who lives in Winchester, Pennsylvania, writes to ask for directions which will help him to get from the railroad station in your city to your house. Reply, giving him careful directions. 86 THE MOTHER TO^^GUE. 3. Write to your friend Arthur Fulton, who lives in Chicago, telling him what you did in the Christmas holidays. 4. Imagine that you have a cousin who lives in another state, in Germany, or in Honolulu. Write to him (or her) about the place you live in, its climate, its surroundings, and so on. Tell something about your school and your amusements. 5. Your friend Edith Graham writes to ask you about a school in your town which she thinks of attending next year. Reply to her letter. 6. Your friend Anna Colby writes to ask you about the place in which you spent your last summer vacation. Answer her, telling her why you think that she would like the place. 7. Your friend Alfred Maybury writes to ask you about a camping trip you made last summer to a lake near your home. Answer him, explaining what he will need in the way of outfit, and giving him any other information that is likely to be useful to him in preparing for a similar trip. 8. One of your classmates has been ill in a hospital, but is convalescent. Write to him, telling what has happened at school during his illness. You will of course tell him that he has been missed, and that you are glad to hear of his recovery. 9. Write a reply to No. 8, describing life in the hospital and asking questions about the progress of the class. 10. Imagine yourself at Manila. Write to your cousin at home. Tell her how the climate differs from that of your own city ; describe the appearance of Manila and the habits of the people, and add anything else which may be of interest. 11. Write from Paris to your friend Elbert Smith in Buffalo, N. Y. Describe some of the interesting places that you have visited. 12. You are snow-bound on your way from Albany to Cleve- land, and delayed for fifteen hours. Telegraph to your friends in Cleveland, assuring them of your safety and explaining the delay. After your arrival in Cleveland, write a letter home and describe your journey. FEIENDLY LETTERS. 87 13. You are a passenger on a steamship bound from Liverpool to Boston. The propeller is broken, and after two days’ drifting your ship is discovered by an ocean liner and is towed back to Queenstown. Send a message by cable informing your friends that you are safe. Write a letter home, recounting your experiences. 14o Open a correspondence with a class in some other high school. Thus, — Write an introductory letter to the teacher of the class or to some pupil in it. Write an appropriate reply to your letter. 15. Write to your grandmother in Vermont, saying that you mean to spend the Christmas holidays with her. Tell what you have been doing, why your parents wish you to go, and why you desire to make the visit. Write a reply to the letter just outlined. 16. Your friend Elmer Eaton is a freshman at college. He writes to you, describing the college and outlining some of his experiences there. Reproduce the letter. 17. Your cousin Ethel Wright sends you a letter from the school at which she is studying. She informs you that her friend and classmate Miss Jane Merriam is to spend a week in your city, and asks you to call on Miss Merriam. Reproduce the letter. ^ 18. Write to your friend Geoffrey Nelson, who lives in Colum- bus, Ohio, asking him to spend his summer vacation with you. Tell him what you will do to make his visit agreeable. Your father and mother join in the invitation. 19. Write a descriptive letter from one of the places named below : — Paris, Honolulu, Rome, Stockholm, Calcutta, San Francisco. Edinburgh, Melbourne, St. Petersburg, Hongkong, 88 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 20. You are spending the summer in the White Mountains. Write to your cousin Eleanor, asking her to make you a month’s visit. Describe the pleasures of life among the mountains, and tell her how to prepare for her visit. Give definite directions about trains, connections, etc. 21. You wish to organize a little club for the study of history. Write to your teacher, submitting your plan and asking advice. Write the teacher’s reply. Write to two friends, asking them to meet you at a certain time and place, to consult about the plan. Write replies to these notes, (1) accepting the invitation, (2) declining and giving the reason. The mother of one of your classmates sends you a note pro- posing that the meetings be held at her house. Write this note. Acknowledge the note, accepting the invitation. SECTION 82. BUSINESS LETTERS. In writing a business letter, remember that you are addressing a man who has no time to waste, and who wants to learn certain specific facts as quickly and as accurately as possible. On the facts which you set before him he will act, and his action may mean profit or loss to both of you. A business letter should therefore set forth the facts which you think the recipient ought to know, and no other facts. It should state these facts as clearly and concisely as possible, and should make each separate fact stand out distinctly by itself so that it will catch the reader’s attention at once. Address the envelope clearly with the name, the street and number (or the post-office box), and the other BUSINESS LETTERS. 89 necessary details of the superscription in the' conven- tional order. The address on the envelope is for the people in the post office, who have to sort and distribute an inconceivable number of letters every day. Bad handwriting and every deviation fj*om the regular order are stumbling blocks to them, and may therefore result in delaying your letter. Sign your name so clearly that it cannot be mis- taken. There is no more foolish affectation than a showy signature which is hard to read. Answer business letters by return mail if possible. If you can do no more, send a line acknowledging the receipt of the letter and promising to attend to it immediately. In replying to a business letter, you should first acknowledge the receipt of your correspondent’s letter, mentioning the date on which it was written, or giving some other mark of identification. Acknowledge any enclosure which your correspondent has made, either by the general phrase, “with enclosures as stated,” or, in more important cases, by naming the enclosures separately. It is often wise to repeat the general tenor of the letter that you are answering. Then take up each point, — if possible in the order in which you find them in your correspondent’s letter; this will make it easier for both you and him to compare the correspond- ence. Answer directly and definitely such questions as he has asked ; make any explanation which seems necessary, and then go on to any new subject which you wish to raise. In business letters it is well to give a separate para- graph to each of the points on which you are conveying information, or asking for information. 90 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 83. BUSINESS LETTERS. 1. John Smith is the owner of a canal boat which runs on the Erie Canal. Write to him in order to make arrangements to use his boat for a school picnic. 2. Write to John S. Egremont, a noted lecturer, asking him on what terms he would speak in your town for the benefit of the High School. 3. Write to the Secretary of Yale College, asking him to send you an announcement of the requirements for admission. 4. John L. Anderson, of your city, contemplates buying a small house in the country for the use of his family in the summer. He advertises for such a house, stating his requirements. The house must be within three miles of a railroad station. Answer the advertisement, describing the house you have for sale. Assume that you are a dealer in real estate. Answer the advertisement, asking further questions and offering to assist Mr. Anderson in finding a house. Write Mr. Anderson’s reply to the first letter. Write Mr. Anderson’s reply to the second letter. 5. You wish to become a bookkeeper. Write to a friend who has had long experience, and ask his advice as to your course of study and the best method of preparing for your work. 6. Write to the publishers of ‘‘ Harper’s Magazine,” asking them to send the magazine to your school for use in the reading room. Enclose a check or a money order in payment. 7. Write to the principal of some high school in your state, proposing a debate between his school and your own. Suggest the conditions under which the debate should be conducted ; name two or three subjects, and invite further correspondence. 8. Write to a stationer, asking him to send you samples of stationery. BUSINESS LETTERS. 91 9. After exaiiiiiiing the samples sent in response to your request (in No. 8), write a letter enclosing the paper which you have selected, and ordering the amount you need. Arrange for payment. 10. You intend to visit a friend in Chicago. Write to the local passenger agent, asking for the necessary time-tables, and making inquiries concerning the price of railway tickets and of a berth in a sleeping car. 11. A gentleman whom you know wishes to buy a dog. Write to him, offering to sell him your dog. Describe the dog’s charac- teristics. 12. Your friend Henry Fairbanks wishes to sell his boat. Four members of your class wish to buy it together. Write to the owner of the boat, making inquiries as to its condition and value, and asking on what terms your club can obtain it. 13. Your class plans a picnic in the country. Write to the manager of the electric road in your town, arranging for a special car to convey the party to the picnic grounds and back. Write a reply to your first letter, to complete the correspondence. 14. You are interested by the announcement of a particular college. Write to the president or secretary, asking for informa- tion concerning the college. State definitely the questions which you wish to have answered. 15. Write to the congressman of your district, asking him to tell you how you can become eligible for examination for AVest Point. 16. AYrite to the proprietor of a summer hotel at Atlantic City for a descriptive circular giving full information about the hotel and its environment. 17. You wish to buy a piano. Write to the proprietors of the salesrooms in your town, asking for descriptions of the best pianos, with prices. 18. AYrite to the mayor of your city or the selectmen of your town, stating that the boys and girls of your school desire a play- ground, and asking what steps can be taken to secure it. 92 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 84. INVITATIONS AND REPLIES. Invitations and replies are either formal or informal. The reply should accord in style with the invitation. An informal invitation is written like any other familiar letter, except that the heading is often less exact in designating the date and place. Sometimes the heading is omitted altogether. A formal invitation is always in the third person. It has no heading, no salutation, and no ‘‘Yours truly” (or the like) at the end. It is also unsigned, for the writer’s name appears in the body of the invitation. In both formal and informal invitations the address of the sender and the date may be written below and at the left. The day of the month is often written out in full, and the year may be omitted. A formal invitation’ may be arranged in lines ' of different lengths, as in the example. This is always the practice when it is engraved. Mr. and Mrs. Egbert request the pleasure of Mr. Johnston’s company at dinner on Wednesday, January fourteenth, at seven o’clock. 43 Grantham Street. A formal reply is also in the tliird person, and fol- lows the style of the invitation in other respects. It need not, however, be “ displayed ” like an engraved invitation. IXVITATIOXS AND REPLIES. 93 A reply, whether formal or informal, should always repeat the date and hour mentioned in the invitation, to prevent mistake.' It should in every case be sent at once, that the host or hostess may know how many guests to expect. SECTION 85. INVITATIONS AND REPLIES. Copy the following letters and observe the parts of which they are composed. [A formal invitation.] Mrs. John T. Lawrence requests the pleasure of Miss Ainslee’s company at dinner on Wednesday, February twenty-seventh, at seven o’clock. 239 Main Street. [A formal reply, accepting.] Miss Ainslee accepts with pleasure Mrs. Lawrence’s kind invi- tation for AVednesday evening, February twenty-seventh, at seven o’clock. 13 Chestnut Terrace, February twenty-fourth. [A formal reply, declining.] INIiss Ainslee regretsAhat a previous engagement prevents her accepting Mrs. Lawrence’s kind invitation for ^VTdnesday evening. 13 Cliestnut Terrace, February twenty-fourth. 94 THE MOTHER TONGUE. [Informal invitations and replies.] 5 Clifton Road, Thursday morning. Dear Miss Adams, May I have the pleasure of taking you and your sister to drive in the Park this afternoon ? The day is a beautiful one, and I do not like to have you return to the West without seeing the prettiest thing our town has to show. If it is convenient for you, I will call at three o’clock. The bearer will wait for your reply. Most cordially yours, Charlotte L. Fanshaw. My dear Mrs. Richards, Will you and Mr. Richards give us the pleasure of your com- pany at dinner on Friday, August tenth, at seven o’clock? Sincerely yours, 9 Hilton Place, Mary Sanderson. August third. My dear Mrs. Sanderson, It will give us great pleasure to dine with you on Friday, the tenth, at seven o’clock. Sincerely yours, Helen Richards. 10 Alton Street, August fourth. My dear Mrs. Sanderson, I am very sorry that a previous engagement will deprive us of the pleasure of dining with you on Friday. Sincerely yourS, Helen Richards. 10 Alton Street, August fourth. BUSINESS TRANSACTIONS. 95 SECTION 86. BUSINESS TRANSACTIONS. A business transaction may require much correspond- ence before its details are settled. There are usually preliminary inquiries, definite propositions, an agree- ment, and the performance of the agreement. All these ‘‘ items ” require letter-writing. I. Mr. John T. King desires to send his twelve-year-old son to a summer camp for boys. lie corresponds with Mr. Elmer E. Ells- worth, 25 Cudworth St., Albany, New York, in regard to the matter. AYrite the necessary letters. 1. Mr. King makes preliminary inquiries. 2. Mr. Ellsworth replies, sending a circular and answering Mr. King’s questions. He asks for a description of the boy, and a definite statement of the father’s purpose in sending him to the camp. 3. Mr. King replies, and makes inquiries as to the acquaint- ances his son may make in camp. 4. Mr. Ellsworth replies. 5. Mr. King engages a place for his boy. 6. Bill rendered by Mr. Ellsworth at the end of the session. i 7. Check sent by Mr. King in payment of Mr. Ellsworth’s bill. 8. Letter from Mr. King to Mr. Ellsworth, expressing his appreciation of the treatment his boy has received, and his cordial approval of the camp. II. Mr. John Smith is the teacher of history in the Oakview School. There are eighteen pupils in his class and he wishes to 1 For bills and other business forms, see Appendix. 96 THE MOTHER TONGUE. secure for them copies of Green’s “ Short History of the English People.” It is necessary for him to learn the cost of the books; whether a discount will be allowed to his class ; how and when the books can be delivered. 1. Write a letter, asking the publishers to send a sample copy of the book to show to the class. 2. Write the publishers’ reply which accompanies the book. 3. Write the order for eighteen copies, asking to have the books sent by express. 4. Prepare the bill which should accompany the books. 5. Write a letter, announcing the safe arrival of the books and enclosing a check in payment. III. Your school needs a baseball field. 1. A real estate agent writes to ask you whether a given field would be suitable for a baseball field, how much of the land you need, and whether the boys in your school would raise a sub- scription to buy the field. Write the agent’s letter. 2. Reply, answering these questions. Explain to the agent that there is another field nearer the school which would be better for the purpose. IV. JDIANOS TO LET. — We have always on hand a new and fine stock of pianos to let at rea- sonable prices. Any one who wishes to hire a piano will do well to call and examine our stock. SMITH & EMERSON COMPANY, 1006 Main St. Your class is arranging for a concert in the school hall and needs a piano for the occasion. You have noticed the advertise- ment of the Smith & Emerson Company (printed above). Conduct the necessary correspondence. BUSINESS TRANSACTIONS. 97 1. Write to the firm asking them on what terms they would send you a piano. Tell what kind of piano you desire and when it will be required. 2. AVrite the firm’s reply to your letter. Describe the piano which can be sent and mention the cost of cartage and rental. 3. AAT’ite to engage the piano. Stipulate the hour at which it must arrive ; say that a member of your committee will be at the schoolhouse at that hour, to see that it is put in the proper place. Agree to the terms stated in the firm’s letter. (Quote them.) 4. AAT’ite to the firm, asking them to remove the piano and to send their bill. 5. Reply to No. 4, offering a slight reduction in the amount agreed on. Make out the bill. 6. Send a post-office order in payment. Thank the firm for the reduction, and speak of the careful way in which the men who moved the piano did their work. V. 500 STORAGE ROOMS in the city, $1.50 to $6.00 per month, at Union Storage Warehouse, 74 Eastern Avenue. Down-town office, 75 Berkeley St. Estimates for moving and storage. Y oil are about to move from the city to a town twenty miles distant. 1. Briefly describe the material to be moved, state when the work must be done, and ask for an estimate of the expense. 2. Write a reply to the letter just outlined. 3. Reply to the letter received from the Union Storage AYare- house. Engage the company to move your goods on the date mentioned. 4. Make out a bill for the service. 5. Acknowledge the receipt of the bill. Inform the company that, though most of the work was well done, one valuable piece of furniture was seriously damaged in the transfer. Ask foi- an inquiry into the matter. 98 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 6. Reply to the letter in No. 5, saying that the company has inquired into the matter and has discovered that the accident was caused by the driver’s carelessness. Express regret for the accident, and make a reduction in the bill as compensation. 7. Reply to the last letter, acknowledging the reduction and enclosing a check in payment of the bill as it now reads. VI. PASSAGE TICKETS to and from EUROPE via Allan, American, Anchor, Cunard, Dominion, White Star, and Scandinavian-American Lines. All lines of rail and ocean travel represented. Tickets to and from all parts of the world. T. L. SMITH & CO., 45 Elliot St. Telephone, Main 656. 1. Write to the firm, asking for descriptive circulars. Mention the paper in which you first saw the advertisement. 2. Write the reply of T. L. Smith & Co. 3. After examining the circulars, you decide to secure passage for a party of six by the Dominion Line. Write, asking for a plan of the ships of this line, with dates of sailing and definite terms. 4. Write T. L. Smith & Co.’s reply to the inquiries in No. 3. Remark that a plan is enclosed. 5. Write to engage passage for your party on a certain ship at a certain date. Indicate selected staterooms in order of choice, and enclose check for the preliminary deposit required. 6. The ship which you have selected is disabled. The com- pany substitutes another and sends a printed letter to all persons who have taken passage. Write the letter. 7. Write a letter to the company, asking if it is possible to exchange your tickets, in order to secure passage in one of the ships sailing either earlier or later. 8. Write a reply to No. 7, arranging for the exchange. 9. W rite to the company, closing the transaction. TELEGRAMS. 99 VIL TTr ANTED. — A bright high-school boy for office ^ ^ work and errands, about 16 years old, home in the city ; wages $4.00 ; some leisure for study. Apply, with references, rear of 1257 Union Avenue, Jamaica Crossing. ALLEN PRINTING COMPANY. Write a letter applying for the position, describing your prepa- ration, and stating that you are engaged to-day but will call at four o’clock to-morrow. VIII. OTEAM CARPET CLEANING 3 cents a yard. ^ Carpets laid, 3 cents a yard. Tel. 305-2. THE N. J. EVANS COMPANY, Norfolk, cor. Castle St. 1. Write to the company, asking them to send for your carpet, which is to be cleaned, repaired, and laid. 2. Write a reply to No. 1. 3. Make out a bill for the work. 4. Write a letter enclosing a check in payment, and saying that the work has been well and promptly done. SECTION 87. TELEGRAMS. Messages requiring haste are frequently sent by tele- graph, especially by business men. The composition of telegrams is, therefore, an essential part of a business training. A telegram should be brief and definite. The cost of the telegram is proportioned to the distance. Ten words are allowed for a given rate, and every additional word means additional cost. It is therefore necessary 100 THE MOTHER TONGUE. to learn how to limit the cost of the telegram by writing as concisely as possible. To THE Teacher. — Practice in writing telegrams is valuable in devel- oping power of discrimination as well as conciseness. Pupils should be taught to select the essential points of a message and to express them in the most telling words within the limit allowed. The exercises may also be used as subjects for letters, and the pupil may be required to condense each letter into a telegram. 1. Your friend is on his way from Chicago to New York. He intends to sail for Europe next Wednesday and telegraphs, asking you to meet him in New York Wednesday morning. Write the telegram. Reply with a telegram, explaining why you cannot meet him. Send regrets and best wishes for a pleasant voyage. Telegraph to your cousin, asking him to meet your friend in your place. 2. You have been spending your vacation in Nova Scotia, and take passage home on a steamship. Write a letter, announcing your intended arrival, naming the route you have chosen, and stating the time of your expected arrival. The ship is delayed in port by a slight accident. Telegraph to a member of your family, stating the cause of the delay and assuring him of your safety. 3. You had intended to be present at the opening of your school, but the delay in sailing (see No. 2) makes you late. Telegraph to the principal, explaining the delay and telling him when you expect to arrive. 4. You are spending your vacation with a friend in the country. Telegraph home, asking your mother to send you some book by the next mail. 5. Your father, who is away from home, discovers that he has left on his desk an important letter which he needs in order to transact certain business. He telegraphs, asking you to forward the letter immediately. Write the telegram. You find the letter and forward it by mail. Write a telegram to reassure your father. ANNOUNCEMENTS. 101 6. Telegraph to a friend in a neighboring city, asking him to secure two tickets for the symphony concert. 7. You are at school a hundred miles from home. You are chosen valedictorian of your class. Telegraph the news to your mother. Write her letter in reply to the telegram. 8. One of your friends has a camp on the shore of a lake in the country. He has commissioned you to buy a boat for him. You have ascertained that a suitable boat may be bought for fifty dollars, and that one which seems to you much better may be secured for sixty-five dollars. You write the details to your friend, asking him to reply immediately. He telegraphs, author- izing you to buy the better boat and asking you to reply by tele- graph. Write your friend’s telegram. AYrite your telegram in reply. 9. A noted lecturer is to address your school next Monday morning. Telegraph to your cousin, asking her to be present. 10. A very dear friend has been elected to a position of great honor and trust. Telegraph your congratulations. 11. A reunion of your classmates occurs this evening. You are unable to attend but wish to express your interest. Send a telegram to be read at the reunion. SECTION 88. ANNOUNCEMENTS. One is frequently called upon to write a formal announcement (of a meeting or an entertainment, for example) to be published in a newspaper or sent out as a circular letter. Announcements should be clear and concise. They should contain nothing that is not to the point, and should be written in a simple, dignified style. 102 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 1. Read the following announcement. American Bridge-Building Company. To the stockholders. A special meeting of the stockholders of the American Bridge- Building Company will be held on Tuesday, the 25th day of March, 1902, at 11.30 a.m., at the office of the Company, 27 East St., Northborough, to consider and act upon the question of increasing the number of the directors. By order of the Directors. Chas. Elmer Hubbard, Secretary. Northborough, N. Y., March 8, 1902. Study this announcement and explain its purpose. Enumerate the items that it contains. Make an outline of the announcement as a guide for use in such compositions. Compose a similar announcement, referring to your outline. Exchange papers in the class and criticise. Insist upon brief and clear statements. Be sure that no necessary item is omitted from the announcement and that no unnecessary item is included in it. 2. Call a meeting of some club of which you are a member. Announce the purpose, the time, and the place of meeting, and invite a full attendance. This announcement is to be posted on the bulletin board of your school. 3. The baseball nine of your school is to play with the nine of the Chester High School, on April 14, in the afternoon, on your school playground. Write an announcement of the game for some local newspaper, inviting spectators. 4. Your class contemplates giving a school entertainment, in the hope of securing money for a new piano. Write an announce- ment of the entertainment, mentioning its purpose, and stating time, place, and price of admission. 5. Prepare a suitable programme for the entertainment men- tioned in Exercise 4, ADVEKTISEMENTS. 103 6. Write a report of this entertainment for some local news- paper. 7. The alumni of your high school are to have a picnic on Saturday, June 18, at some well-known picnic grounds. Write an announcement for a newspaper, stating the time and place of the picnic. Write a note to a friend, outlining the plans made for the picnic and asking him to attend. Write a letter to the company owning the picnic grounds arranging for the use of the grounds. Write a report of the picnic for your school paper. 8. A new high-school building has just been erected in your town. You desire to secure a clock for the hall, and therefore send a circular letter to graduates of the school, asking for con- tributions. Write the letter. SECTION 89. ADVERTISEMENTS. Ordinary advertisements are written as concisely as pos- sible, for newspapers charge by the line or the inch for their insertion. They should be perfectly clear, how- ever, even at the expense of an additional line or two. It is poor economy to save a few cents and defeat the whole purpose of advertising. Study the advertisements in Section 86 before taking up the exercises below. 1. Answer the following advertisement. T3RUSH HILL. — To be let for the summer, a most attractive estate of about 5 acres, on Trowbridge St. Fully furnished house of 12 rooms and 2 bathrooms, large veranda, and stable for 4 horses. Apply to L. K. Turner, 70 Union St. 104 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 2. rr^O LET. — Large old-fashioned house; modern plumbing ; paint, paper, and everything new ; 15 rooms; will be let for $800, to private family only. J. F. F. Brigham, 42 King St. Tel. 2907. Study this advertisement. Enumerate the items included in it; then write a descriptive paragraph making the same announcement. 3. You live in a northern city. Your parents plan to spend the winter in the South, and you are to stay with your sister until they return. Meanwhile, your house will be let, furnished. Write a descriptive advertisement ottering it for rent. 4. A young lady has lost a beautiful brooch which had been given to her by a friend. Write an advertisement describing the lost article, telling when and where it was lost, and ottering a reward for its return. 5. A Scotch collie has disappeared. His owner fears that the dog has been stolen. Write a description of the dog for publi- cation, telling the time of his disappearance and ottering a reward for his return. 6. Mr. Elbert Brown wishes to employ a boy who can make himself generally useful. The boy must be at least sixteen years old, accustomed to country life, and ready to live out of town for the summer. Write an advertisement, describing the work required, ottering suitable compensation, and appointing a time for an interview. 7. A gentleman wishes to build a summer cottage near a lake in the woods twenty miles from town. He advertises for a car- penter. Write the advertisement. Answer the advertisement, stating the terms on which you will undertake the work. Part II. THE FORMS OF DISCOURSE. Part IT. THE FORMS OF DISCOURSE. SECTION 90. TWO KINDS OF COMPOSITION. Most of the writing which we have to do falls into two classes, of which the two kinds of letters already studied are the commonest typesd In a business letter your purpose is to give informa- tion, to explain a subject with which you are familiar to some one who does not understand it, or to express your opinion on some practical matter. Such a letter may be quite impersonal. Its essential quality is clearness. In a familiar letter, on the other hand, you are con- cerned with your own thoughts, feelings, and experi- ences. Your object is not primarily to give information, but rather to make your subject as interesting to your correspondent as it is to you. Such a letter is personal and individual. Its essential qualities are vividness and interest.^ These two classes of letters are examples of the two 1 See pp. 85-86, 91, 94. 2 These paragraphs are not pieant as definitions. Many business letters are personal, and a familiar letter may of course concern a matter of busi- ness. No sharp distinction can be made between the two kinds of corre- spondence. The general difference, however, is as here set forth, and nothing more is necessary for our present purpose, which is illustrative merely. 108 THE MOTHER TONGUE. kinds of writing which everybody has to do, sooner or later. In the first kind, you should ask yourself, ^^Have I explained all the facts clearly?” In the second, ‘‘ Have I interested my reader in what interests me?” Under the first head come such pieces of com- position as your written tests ” at school, and all those essa;ys or reports in which your main object is to inform your reader. Under the second head comes every piece of composition in which you aim chiefly at interesting others in your own feelings or experiences, as in stories or in descriptions of places or persons. In literature, the first class would include scientific works, many essays on instructive topics, speeches on matters of fact (as in debates), and all books which set forth general principles for the conduct of life or for the under- standing of the universe. In the second class belong stories, literary descriptions, all poetry that appeals to the imagination, and what we call ‘‘ lighter literature.” To THE Teacher. — This distinction between the two general classes of writing is of some importance. Pupils should be taught to think before they write whether their chief aim is to explain or to arouse interest, and they should arrange and handle their material according to this main purpose. On the other hand, they should not infer that every composition is confined to one or the other class. They should observe that in many cases the purposes may be combined. In particular, they should remember that to be instructive one is not obliged to be dull. SECTION 91. 1. Name three examples of writing whose chief purpose is to explain, and three whose chief purpose is to arouse interest. 2. Mention (1) five things about your school which niiglit go into a business letter ; (2) five things which would go into a family letter but not into a business letter. FORMS OF DISCOURSE. 109 SECTION 92. THE FORMS OF DISCOURSE. All literature, as we have seen, may be roughly but conveniently divided into two great classes, according as its main object is (1) to instruct the reader or (2) to interest him. This is a classification with respect to the purpose of the author. It is important to keep the distinction in mind, since a writer cannot accom- plish much unless he knows what he wishes to do. Literature, however, may be regarded from another point of view. We may ask ourselves not only What is the author’s purpose in this or that piece of writing? ” but “ What is the form of his literary product ? Is it a story, or a description, or an explanation, or an argu- ment ? ” With regard to form, then, we may distinguish four kinds of composition: narrative, descriptive, explana- tory (or expository), and argumentative. In the end we shall find that these four classes seldom occur entirely distinct from each other. In the meantime, however, just as in learning any game we must master the principles and movements one by one, so here it will be profitable to take up each kind of writing by itself, in order to discover the principles which should guide us in the practical work of com- position and to grasp them firmly. In Part I, we have surveyed the whole subject of composition in an elementary way. In Part II, we shall take up the several forms of discourse in their order. At the outset, however, we must consider two points which are equally important for every kind of writing. 110 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 93. CLEARNESS OF THOUGHT. Before you begin any piece of composition, you should know exactly what you wish to say. More bad writing springs from inexact thinking than from any other source. Every one understands what it is to have a comfortable sense of familiarity with a subject, and then, when he tries to speak or write, to find that he can give no satis- factory account of his knowledge. This means that his supposed familiarity was merely a vague acquaintance with the subject, not a well-ordered body of informa- tion. Read Newman’s ‘‘Definition of a Gentleman” (pp. 355-56), and see how clearly and definitely he must have thought out his ideas on this uncertain topic before he began to write. You may learn the same lesson from Washington’s “Farewell Address.” Here again, large and elusive matters are discussed with a firmness and a precision that come only from exact and orderly thinking. Before you begin to write, therefore, be sure that you know what you wish to do, that you know something about your subject, and that your ideas about it are clear and well arranged. SECTION 94. ADAPTATION TO THE READER. There is still another question which a writer should ask himself before he begins : “ For whom am I writing ? ” or “ To whom is my composition addressed ? ” NARKATION. Ill If you are to write of baseball to one who already knows how to play the game, you will of course not take the trouble to describe the bat and the ball, or to explain how the bases are arranged. You will come at once to some question of skilful playing, on which even experts may have diffc'erent views. If, on the other hand, you are to describe the game to an English boy, who may never have heard of it, you must begin at the beginning. In every case you should consider your readers. Make up your mind what they are likely to know of the sub- ject already, and how much it will interest them. Then adapt your writing to their needs and their tastes. SECTION 95. NARRATION. In Sections 96-98 are printed four short stories which we shall use in our study of this particular kind of writing. Rumpelstiltskin ” is an example of the best kind of fairy tale, — that which has come down to us by a long course of oral tradition. Moses and the Green Spectacles ” is an extract from Goldsmith’s “ Vicar of Wakefield,” a novel based on a simple, retired mode of life. “ Lochinvar” is a story in verse ; it is full of action and told with the highest spirit. Sir George Grey’s ‘‘Australian Superstition” is a true story taken from an excellent book of travel and adventure. Read each story twice, — first rapidl}^, to get a general impression of it, then more deliberately, but still for its own sake. Later, we shall find that each illustrates certain principles that will be useful as guides in our study and practice of composition. 112 THE MOTHER TONGUE. RUMPELSTILTSKIN. Once there was a miller who was poor, but who had a beauti- ful daughter. Now it happened that he had to go and speak to the king, and, in order to make himself appear important, he said to him, ‘‘ I have a daughter who can spin straw into gold.’’ The king said to the miller, ‘‘ That is an art which pleases me well. If your daughter is as clever as you say, bring her to-morrow to my palace, and I will try what she can do.” When the girl was brought to him, he took her into a room which was quite full of straw, gave her a spinning-wheel and a reel, and said, “ Now set to work, and if by to-morrow morning early you have not spun this straw into gold during the night, you must die.” Thereupon he himself locked up the room, and left her in it alone. So there sat the poor miller’s daughter, and for her life could not tell what to do. She had no idea how straw could be spun into gold, and she grew more and more miserable, until at last she began to weep. All at once the door opened, and in came a little man, and said, Good evening. Mistress Miller. Why are you crying so ? ” Alas ! ” answered the girl, “ I have to spin straw into gold, and I do not know how to do it.” What will you give me,” said the manikin, “ if I do it for you?” My necklace,” said the girl. The little man took the necklace, seated himself in front of the wheel, and whirr, whirr, whirr ! ” three turns and the reel was full ; then he put another on, and “ whirr, whirr, whirr ! ” three times round, and the second w^as full too. And so it went on until the morning, when all the straw was spun, and all the reels were full of gold. By daybreak the king was already there, and when he saw the gold he was astonished and delighted, but his heart became only more greedy. He had the miller’s daughter taken into another room full of straw, which was much larger, and commanded her STOKIES. 113 to spin that also in one night if she valued her life. The girl knew not how to help herself, and was crying, when the door again opened, and the little man appeared, and said, “ What will you give me if I spin the straw into gold for you ? ” The ring on my finger,” answered the girl. The little man took the ring, again began to turn the wheel, and by morning had spun all the straw into glittering gold. The king rejoiced beyond measure at the sight, but still he had not gold enough ; and he had the miller’s daughter taken into a still larger room full of straw, and said, ‘‘You must spin this, too, in the course of this night ; but if you succeed, you shall be iny wife.” “ Even if she be a miller’s daughter,” thought he, “ I could not find a richer wife in the whole world.” When the girl was alone, the manikin came again for the third time, and said, “ What will you give me if I spin the straw for you this time also ? ” “ I have nothing left that I could give,” answered the girl. “ Then promise me, if you should become queen, your first child.” “ Who knows whether that will ever happen ? ” thought the miller’s daughter; and, not knowing how else to help herself in this strait, she promised the manikin what he wanted, and for that he once more spun the straw into gold. When the king came in the morning, and found all as he had wished, he took her in marriage, and the miller’s pretty daughter became a queen. A year after, she had a beautiful child, and she never gave a thought to the manikin. But suddenly he came into her room, and said, “ Yow give me what you promised.” The queen was horror-struck, and offered the manikin all the riches of the king- dom if he would leave her the child. But the manikin said, “ Yo, something that is living is dearer to me than all the treas- ures in the world.” The queen began to weep and cry, so that the manikin pitied her. 114 THE MOTHER TONGUE. ‘‘ I will give you three days’ time,” said he. ‘‘ If by that time you find out my name, then shall you keep your child.” So the queen thought the whole night of all the names that she had ever heard, and she sent a messenger over the country to inquire, far and wide, for any other names that there might be. When the manikin came the next day, she began with Caspar,” ‘‘Melchior,” “Balthazar,” and said all the names she knew, one after another ; but to every one the little man said, “ That is not my name.” On the second day she had inquiries made in the neighborhood as to the names of the people there, and she repeated to the manikin the most uncommon and curious. “ Per- haps your name is Shortribs, or Sheepshanks, or Laceleg?” but he always answered, “ That is not my name.” On the third day the messenger came back again, and said, “ I have not been able to find a single new name, but as I came to a high mountain at the end of the forest, where the fox and the hare bid each other good night, there I saw a little house, and before the house a fire was burning, and round about the fire quite a ridiculous little man was jumping : he hopped upon one leg, and shouted — “‘To-day I bake, to-morrow brew, The next ITl have the young queen’s child. Ha! glad I am that no one knew That Rumpelstiltskin I am styled.’ ” You may think how glad the queen was when she heard the name ! And when soon afterwards the little man came in, and asked, “Now, Mistress Queen, what is my name?” at first she said, “Is your name Conrad?” “No.” “Is your name Harry?” “No.” “ Perhaps your name is Rumpelstiltskin ? ” “ The devil has told you that 1 the devil has told you that 1 ” cried the little man, and in his anger he plunged his right foot so deep into the earth that his whole leg went in ; and then in rage he pulled at his left leg so hard with both hands that he tore himself in two. — From the “ Fairy Tales ” of the Brothers Grimm. STORIES. 115 SECTION 96. MOSES AND THE GREEN SPECTACLES. (From Goldsmith’s “ Vicar of Wakefield.”) As the fair happened on the following day, I had intentions of going myself ; but my wife persuaded me that I had got a cold, and nothing could prevail upon her to permit me from home. No, my dear,” said she, ‘‘our son Moses is a discreet boy, and can buy and sell to very good advantage. You know all our great bargains are of his purchasing. He always stands out and higgles, and actually tires them till he gets a bargain.” As I had some opinion of my son’s prudence, I was willing enough to intrust him with this commission ; and the next morn- ing I perceived his sisters mighty ^ busy in fitting out Moses for the fair, — trimming his hair, brushing his buckles, and cocking his hat with pins. The business of the toilet being over, we had at last the satisfaction of seeing him mounted upon the colt, with a deal box before him to bring home groceries in. ' He had on a coat made of that cloth they call thunder-and-lightning, which, though grown too short, was much too good to be thrown away. His waistcoat was of gosling green, and his sisters had tied his hair with a broad black riband. We all followed him several paces from the door, bawling after him, “ Good luck ! good luck ! ” till we could see him no longer. He was scarcely gone when Mr. Thornhill’s butler came to con- gratulate us upon our good fortune, saying that he overheard his young master mention our names with great commendation. Good fortune seemed resolved not to come alone. Another footman from the same family followed, with a card for my daughters, importing that the two ladies liad received such pleas- ing accounts from JMr. Thornhill of us all that, after a few previous inquiries, they hoped to be perfectly satisfied. 1 This adverbial use of mighty was formerly common in good writers, but is now obsolete except in very informal conversation. 116 THE MOTHER TONGUE. « Ay ! ” cried my wife, “ I now see it is no easy matter to get into the families of the great ; but when one once gets in, then, as Moses says, one may go to sleep. To this piece of humor — for she intended it for wit — my daughters assented with a loud laugh of pleasure. In short, such was her satisfaction at this message that she actually put her hand in her pocket and gave the messenger sevenpence halfpenny. This was to be our visiting day. The next that came w^as Mr. Burchell, who had been at the fair. He brought my little ones a pennyworth of gingerbread each, which my wife undertook to keep for them, and give them by little at a time. He brought my daughters also a couple of boxes, in which they might keep wafers, snuff, patches, or even money, when they got it. My wife was unusually fond of a weasel-skin purse, as being the most lucky ; but this by the by. At last I began to wonder what could keep our son so long at the fair, as it was now almost nightfall. Never mind our son ! cried my wife. “ Depend upon it he knows what he is about. I ’ll warrant we shall never see him sell his hen of a rainy day. I have seen him buy such bargains as would amaze one. I ’ll tell you a good story about that, that will make you split your sides with laughing. But, as I live, yonder comes Moses, without a horse, and the box at his back.” As she spoke, Moses came slowly on foot, and sweating under the deal box, which he had strapped round his shoulders like a peddler. ‘‘ Welcome, welcome, Moses ! Well, my boy, what have you brought us from the fair?” ‘‘ I have brought you myself,” cried Moses, with a sly look, and resting the box on the dresser. “ Ay, Moses ! ” cried my wife, “ that we know ; but where is the horse ? ” ‘‘I have sold him,” cried Moses, ‘‘for three pounds, five shil- lings, and twopence.” STORIES. 117 “ Well done, my good boy ! returned she. ‘‘ I knew you would touch them off. Between ourselves, three pounds, five shillings, and twopence is no bad day’s work. Come, let us have it, then.” “ I have brought back no money,” cried Moses again. “ I have laid it all out on a bargain, and here it is ” — pidling out a bundle from his breast. Here they are, — a gross of green spectacles, with silver rims and shagreen cases.” ‘‘ A gross of green spectacles ! ” repeated my wife, in a faint voice. And you have parted with the colt, and brought us back nothing but a gross of paltry green spectacles ! ” Dear mother,” cried the boy, why won’t you listen to rea- son ? I had them a dead bargain, or I should not have bought them. The silver rims alone will sell for double the money.” “ A fig for the silver rims ! ” cried my wife, in a passion. ‘‘ I dare swear they won’t sell for above half the money at the rate of broken silver, five shillings an ounce.” “You need be under no uneasiness,” cried I, “about selling the rims, for they are not worth sixpence ; for I perceive they are only copper varnished over.” “ What,” cried my wife, “ not silver ! — the rims not silver ! ” “ No,” cried I, “ no more silver than your saucepan.” “And so,” returned she, “we have parted with the colt, and have only got a gross of green spectacles, with copper rims and shagreen cases. A murrain take such trumpery ! The blockhead has been imposed on, and should have known his company better.” “There, my dear,” cried T, “you are wrong; he should not have known them at all.” “ Marry, hang the idiot ! ” returned she, “ to bring me such stuff. If I had them I would throw them into the fire.” “ There again you are wrong, my dear,” cried I ; “ for, though they be copper, we will keep them by us, as copper spectacles, you know, are better than nothing.” By this time the unfortunate Moses was undeceived. He now saw that he had indeed been imposed upon by a prowling sharper. 118 THE MOTHER TONGUE. who, observing his figure, had marked him for an easy prey. I therefore asked the circumstances of his deception. He sold the horse, it seems, and walked the fair in search of another. A reverend-looking man brought him to a tent, under pretence of having one to sell. Here,” continued Moses, ‘‘we met another man, very well dressed, who desired to borrow twenty pounds upon these, saying that he wanted money and would dispose of them for a third of their value. The first gentleman, who pre- tended to be my friend, whispered to me to buy them, and cautioned me not to let so good an offer pass. I sent for Mr. Flamborough, and they talked him up as finely as they did me, and so at last we were persuaded to buy the two gross between us.” SECTION 97. LOCHINVAR. By Sir Walter Scott. O, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, Through all the wide border his steed was the best ; And save his good broadsword he weapons had none. He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone. So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war. There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. He stayed not for brake, and he stopped not for stone. He swam the Eske river where ford there was none ; But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate. The bride had consented, the gallant came late : For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war. Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar. So boldly he entered the Netherby hall. Among bride’s-men, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all : Then spoke the bride’s father, his hand on his sword. STOKIES. 119 For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word, — “ O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war. Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar ? ” “ I long woo’d your daughter, my suit you denied ; Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide ; And now I am come, with this lost love of mine, To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far, Who would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar.” The bride kissed the goblet : the knight took it up. He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup. She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh, With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye. He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar, — ‘‘ Now tread we a measure ! ” said young Lochinvar. So stately his form, and so lovely her face. That never a hall such a galliard did grace ; While her mother did fret, and her father did fume. And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume. And the bride-maidens whispered ’ T were better by far To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.” One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear. When they reached the hall door where the charger stood near ; So light to the croup the fair lady he swung, So light to the saddle before her he sprung ! She is won ! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur ; They ’ll have fleet steeds that follow,” quoth young Lochinvar. There was mounting ’mong Graemes of the Netherby clan; Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran ; There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee, But the lost bride of Netherby ne’er did they see. So daring in love, and so dauntless in war. Have ye e’er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar ? 120 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 98. AUSTRALIAN SUPERSTITION. i By Sir George Grey. The men slept but little during the night ; every now and then one of them visited the hole of mud and water, to see if a little of this fluid had drained into it, and about an hour before day- light I roused them up to proceed upon their journey. They were dreadfully feeble, though upon the whole stronger than they had been for the last three days. We now entered upon a more hilly country than we had traversed yesterday; the hills were steep, being composed of sand and recent limestone, whilst the valleys were thickly wooded with grass trees and stunted bank- sias. The general line of route I followed was south by east, and we had not travelled more than nine miles when we came sud- denly upon a valley, with a river running rapidly through it. The sight of this cheered us up ; and when on tasting the water we found it excellent, and saw adhering to the banks a species of fresh-water mussel, called by the natives ma-rayl-ya, our joy was complete. I proceeded therefore to collect wood for my fire, and ordered Kaiber ^ to make haste and gather some of these mussels, an order which, considering the hungry state he was in, I imagined he would gladly have obeyed ; but to my astonishment he refused positively to touch one of them, and evidently regarded them with a superstitious dread and abhorrence. My arguments to induce him to move were all thrown away. He constantly affirmed that if he touched these shell-fish, through their agency the hoyl-yas ^ would acquire some mysterious influence over him, which would end in his death. He could not state a recent instance of any ill effects having happened from handling or catching the mussels ; 1 From “ Travels in Northwest and Western Australia.” 2 A native Australian who was one of the exploring party led by Grey. 3 The hoyl-ya is the native sorcerer. STOKIES. 121 but when I taunted him with this, he very shrewdly replied, that his inability to do so only arose from the fact of nobody being “ wooden-headed enough ” to meddle with them, and that he intended to have nothing whatever to do with them. This much he assured me was certain, that a very long time ago some natives had eaten them, and that bad spirits had immediately killed them for so doing. Kaiber was a great deal too sensible a fellow to be allowed to remain a prey to so ridiculous a superstition as this was. I there- fore ordered him instantly to go and bring some of these mussels to me, saying that I intended to eat them, but that he could in this respect please himself. He hereupon, after thinking for a moment or tw^o, got up to obey me, and walked away for this purpose ; but I heard him, whilst occupied in the task, lamenting his fate most bitterly. It was true, he said, that he had not died either of hunger or thirst, but this was all owing to his courage and strong sinews, yet what would these avail against the super- natural powers of the hoyl-yas, They will eat me at night, whilst, worn out by fatigue, I must sleep.” Amidst these and sundry other similar exclamations, he brought the mussels to me. By this time my fire was prepared, and in a few minutes I was making such a meal as the weak state of my stomach would admit of. No inducement of mine could, however, prevail upon Kaiber to share with me, and therefore I handed him the remains of the cockatoo. As soon as my repast was concluded, I walked about three* miles up the river, in the hope of getting a duck, Kaiber accom- panying me. AVe saw several, but killed none. There were some fine reaches in the river, as well as some good flats along its banks. In the afternoon we travelled about three miles in a south-by- east direction, and then came to the bed of a small stream, which ran from east to west, but was now merely a chain of pools. Across the bed, where we passed it, was a native weir. Our route during the whole evening lay over hills similar to those we passed yesterday. AYe did not halt until it was so dark that we could 122 THE MOTHER T0:N^GUE. not see to walk, and then just dropped at the spot where we ceased to move. The men made their fire, and I lighted mine from theirs ; but scarcely was this done ere the rain fell in tor- rents. I had no blankets or protection of any kind against this, and Kaiber was in the same predicament ; so that when the fire was extinguished, our position became pitiable in the extreme, for I know not if I ever before suffered so much from cold ; and to add to my annoyance, I every now and then heard Kaiber chat- tering to himself, under its effects, rather than singing, — “ O wherefore did he eat the mussels ? Now the boyl-yas storms and thunder make ; O wherefore would he eat the mussels ? ” At last I so completely lost my temper, that I roared out, “ You stone-headed fellow, Kaiber, if you talk of mussels again. I’ll beat you.” ‘‘What spoke I this morning ?” replied Kaiber. “You are stone-headed. We shall be dead directly. Wherefore eat you the mussels? ” This was beyond what my patience in my present starved state could endure. So I got up and began to grope about for a stick or something to throw in the direction of the chattering block- head ; but he begged me to remain quiet, promising faithfully to make no more mention of the mussels. I therefore squatted down in a state of the most abject wretchedness. ^ SECTION 99. NARRATIVES AND STORIES. Story and narrative are synonyms; but we naturally make a distinction between them. A narrative is com- monly more formal in tone and more serious in purpose than a mere story. The distinction is convenient, and it is exact enough for our present needs. NAKRATIYES AND STORIES. 123 Most narratives aim to instruct. Historical narrative, for instance, often has an explanatory purpose. ‘‘The Siege of Arcot ” (pp. 350-54) is a good story, but it is more than that ; it explains the achievements of Lord Clive in winning India for the British Empire. So Scott’s “ Battle of Bannockburn ” (pp. 11-16) has its place in his account of the long series of wars between Scotland and England. Historical narratives, then, though they need the qualities of good story-telling, must also follow the principles of explanation. In this they differ from stories pure and simple, — that is, from tales that are told, as it were, for their own sake. The same is true of narratives of travel and exploration. Compare ‘‘The Battle of Bannockburn” (pp. 11-16) or “ Australian Superstition ” (pp. 120-22) with “ Moses and the Green Spectacles ” (pp. 115-18) or with “ Rum- pelstiltskin ” (pp. 112-14), and the difference will appear at once.^ To THE Teacher. — Care should be taken that the pupils do not get the idea that every piece of narration can be definitely referred to one or the other of the two classes indicated. They should be made to see that the distinction consists in a difference of purpose, which induces a corre- sponding difference in treatment. Literature is not science, and pigeon- hole classification of literary types is not to be encouraged. The story pure and simple may be regarded as one extreme of a series, and unmixed exposition (explanatory writing) as the other. Between these extremes lie an almost infinite number of possible combinations. In particular, the distinction between (1) explanatory narrative and (2) exposition that employs narrative incidentally, is often vague enough. Yet the general distinctions are pretty obvious, and it is these alone that the pupil should be expected to understand. Too great exactness in these matters begets confusion and thus defeats its own ends. 1 The subject of explanation will be treated later. It is here mentioned to enforce the distinction between the two kinds of narrative writing. 124 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 100. STORY-TELLING. A story pure and simple (as distinguished from a more formal narrative) aims to produce in the reader the thoughts and feelings which the narrator has while he is telling it.^ You read ‘^Robinson Crusoe” or Steven- son’s Treasure Island ” not for information, but in order to be amused or stirred. Incidentally, you may derive instruction from the work, but that is not your main purpose. You are actually in search of new experiences such as your everyday life does not ordi- narily afford. This kind of reading is profitable in a variety of ways, if the stories are good ones. To write stories is also a profitable exercise. Without some skill in this art, we cannot relate our own experiences clearly and vividly in a letter to a friend. Such practice also gives us insight into the methods of good narrative literature and thus enables us to choose our books better and to enjoy them more intelligently SECTION 101. ACTION IN STORY-TELLING. The essence of story-telling is to make something happen. Indeed, the only difference between a story 1 Here pp. 17-22 may be informally reviewed if that seems necessary. Probably, however, a mere reference to these pages will suffice. 2 That is, it cultivates our critical faculty and our power of literary appreciation. ACTION IN STORY-TELLING. 125 and a description is that the story tells what has hap- pened ; the description tells what things are^ or where they are^ or hotv they look. Action, then, is the prime virtue of a story. The Bible stories are excellent models in this respect, because they concern themselves almost entirely with action and contain very little description. In the story of David and Goliath, for example, see how much is put into five lines : — And it came to pass when the Philistine arose and came and drew nigh to meet David, that David hasted and ran toward the army to meet the Philistine. And David put his hand in his bag and took thence a stone, and slang it, and smote the Philistine in his forehead ; and he fell upon his face to the earth. Of the sixty-one words in this passage, fourteen are verbs ; no unnecessary nouns are used, and there is not a single descriptive adjective. Hence you can hardly strike out a word without taking away from the action of the story. The structure of the sentences also enhances this effect of rapid and vigorous movement. SECTION 102. Read the first page of Rumpelstiltskin ” (p. 112). Then make a list of all the words which express or suggest action. See how many of these words are verbs. What other parts of speech do you find in your list? Repeat the same exercise with Mr. Riis’s anecdote (p. 10); with the first page of ‘‘Moses and the Green Spectacles” (p. 115); with “Lochinvar” (pp. 118-19). 126 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 103. Read the following selection from Hawthorne. Make a framework or outline of the passage, inserting only the subjects and verbs. See how many of these indicate action. THE MINOTAUR. (From Hawthorne’s “ Tanglewood Tales.”) Without more words on either side, there ensued the most awful fight between Theseus and the Minotaur that ever hap- pened beneath the sun or moon. I really know not how it might have turned out, if the monster, in his first headlong rush against Theseus, had not missed him, by a hair’s-breadth, and broken one of his horns short off against the stone wall. On this mis- hap, he bellowed so intolerably that a part of the labyrinth tum- bled down, and all the inhabitants of Crete mistook the noise for an uncommonly heavy thunder storm. Smarting with the pain, he galloped around the open space in so ridiculous a way that Theseus laughed at it, long afterwards, though not precisely at the moment. After this, the two antagonists stood valiantly up to one another, and fought sword to horn, for a long while. At last, the Minotaur made a run at Theseus, grazed his left side with, his horn, and flung him down ; and thinking that he had stabbed him to the heart, he cut a great caper in the air, opened his bull mouth from ear to ear, and prepared to snap his head off. But Theseus by this time had leaped up, and caught the monster off his guard. Fetching a sword-stroke at him with all his force, he hit him fair upon the neck, and made his bull head skip six yards from his human body, which fell flat upon the ground. So now the battle was ended. Immediately the moon shone out as brightly as if all the troubles of the world, and all the wicked- ness and the ugliness which infest human life, were past and gone forever. ACTION. 127 SECTION 104. 1. Bring to the class some piece of narration. Point out to your classmates the means by which the writer has indicated action on the part of his characters and has led up to the point of his story. 2. Bead Browning’s ‘‘Incident of the French Camp.” Then tell the story as briefly and vividly as you can. Compare the movement of your story with that of the poem. 3. Bead “ The Charge of the Light Brigade.” How does it illustrate the points which have been made in Section 101? 4. Lay out in outline two or three stories of things that you have done, putting in nothing but action. 5. Bead Scott’s “Lochinvar” (pp. 118-19). Make a list of the words that express or suggest action in any way. 6. Write an account of a day in school, telling what you did. Aim to make the account effective by employing words which express action. 7. Get a copy of Southey’s “ How the Waters Come Down at Lodore.” Study the means which the poet employs to express action. Sidney Lanier’s “Song of the Chattahoochee” may he studied in the same way. “ Hohenlinden,” “ Marco Bozzaris,” and “ The Rising in ’76 ” would also be effective in such study. 8. Write two brief telegrams in which you express, in con- densed form, all the action possible. Expand each telegram into a letter, 2 '>i’eserviiig the effect of action so far as you can. 9. Write a letter to a friend, telling what you have done during the last week. Bewrite the letter, giving particular attention to action, and introducing descriptive words which will make your story effective. 10. Tell a story from Greek or Scandinavian mythology. Bulfinch’s “ Age of Fable ” or Gayley’s “ Classic Myths ” will supply material, if you have not yet found it in your own read- ing or translation. Attend particularly to action. 128 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 105. THE POINT OF A STORY. Further, the action must not be haphazard, without motive or result. A story must have some point; other- wise there is no reason for telling it. Thus, the point of “ Moses and the Green Spectacles ” (pp. 115-18) is the trick played on Moses; that of Grey’s ‘‘Australian Superstition ” (pp. 120-22) is the native’s dread of eating mussels. Omit this point in each case, and the story ceases to exist. Try to express in a phrase or a sentence the point of each of the narrative poems mentioned below. Observe that if you succeed in expressing the point in each case, your phrase or sentence might serve as a title for the poem. “Paul Revere’s Ride,” by Longfellow. “Nauhaught the Deacon,” by Whittier. “Lucy Gray,” by Wordsworth. “ The Pied Piper of Hamelin,” by Browning. “ The Inchcape Rock,” by Southey. “The Rising in ’76,” by T. B. Read. “ Brier Rose,” by H. H. Boyesen. “One, Two, Three,” by H. C. Bunner. To THE Teacher. — This exercise will serve for several lessons. Other poems or stories may of course be substituted at the discretion of the teacher. The following list will afford additional material : — Whittier’s “ Mabel Martin,” “ Abraham Davenport,” “ In School Days,” “ Angels of Buena Vista”; Longfellow’s “Hiawatha” (selections) and “Tales of a Wayside Inn”; Tennyson’s “Enoch Arden”; Browning’s “Incident of the French Camp ” and “ How they Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix ” ; Coleridge’s “Ancient Mariner”; Wordsworth’s “We are Seven”; Cowper’s “John Gilpin” and “Wreck of the Royal George”; Jean Ingelow’s “ High Tide on the Coast of Lincolnshire.” The pupils should also be encouraged to select examples from their own reading. OUTLINE OF A STORY. 129 SECTION 106. THE OUTLINE OF A STORYL We have already learned that selection of material^ is necessary in all forms of composition. In story-telling, then, we must meet the question ‘‘ What incidents shall I include ? ” Common sense and daily experience imme- diately suggest the answer. No story can he an absolutely complete record of what happened. A full account of your thoughts and experiences for a single day would fill many pages. Yet when you consider the happenings of a day or a week or a year, you perceive that they group them- selves round distinct incidents which have, for some reason, impressed themselves on your memory. If these are made clear, the imagination supplies many of the necessary connecting links. This observation you can easily apply to stories that you read. So, in writing a story, you must select a number of significant incidents and let these lead up to the main point. If the story is simple, the incidents will arrange themselves. The simplest order is that of time, which should not be violated except for special reasons.^ Study “ Rumpelstiltskin ” (pp. 112-14) and ‘‘Moses and the Green Spectacles” (pp. 115-18) in the light of what has just been said. You observe that each is composed of several dis- tinct incidents, and that these are arranged in an orderly 1 Here pp. 21-22 may be informally reviewed, if the principles men- tioned are not clear in the pupil’s mind. 2 Here p. 25 may be cited or reviewed. 130 THE MOTHER TO^^GUE. way so as to lead up to the main point of the story. Each incident is complete in itself, and our reason and imagination provide the connecting links. Thus, in Rumpelstiltskin ’’ the incidents are (1) the miller’s boast ; (2) the imprisonment of the daughter ; (3) the appearance of the dwarf, — and so on. Moses and the Green Spectacles ” covers an entire day. To tell all that happened in that time would make a large and very stupid book, which nobody could read. Goldsmith has accounted for the whole day by selecting a number of significant incidents and arranging them in a natural order. What are the several incidents ? Observe, too, that the point of each story is not disclosed until the proper moment arrives. Thus the reader’s interest is main- tained by the suspense in which he is held. SECTION 107. 1. Prepare an outline of each of the stories given on pages 8-11. Write out the story in your own^ words, following the outline. 2. Analyze the story of ‘M^ochinvar” as told in the poem (p. 118). Write an outline of the story, indicating (1) the principal facts which are included, (2) the subordinate items. Construct the story in prose, following your outline. 3. Write an outline of the fable of ‘‘ The Lion and the Mouse,” indicating the principal and the subordinate items in the story. 4. Read Charles Kingsley’s Three Fishers.” Then (1) prepare an outline of the poem ; (2) reproduce the story from your outline. 5. Study in the same manner the poems mentioned in the list on page 128. To THE Teacher. — The entire class may study some one poem which the teacher selects, or each student may study the poem which he can find most easily. For additional material, see Note to the Teacher, p. 128. INTRODUCTION IN STORY-TELLING. 131 SECTION 108. THE INTRODUCTION IN STORY-TELLING. When you have outlined your story and have the action clearly in mind, you have gone at least halfway. In actual composition, however, you are confronted with the question, ‘‘ How shall the story begin ? ” A story may begin with a brief introduction naming and describing the characters, telling where the scene is laid, or giving some other information which the reader needs. In Franklin’s First Day in Philadelphia” (p. 8), the first paragraph explains the author’s purpose in telling the story and describes his appearance and condition at the beginning of the day. In The Battle of Bannockburn” (p. 11), the first two para- graphs tell what we need to know about the forces on each side. In Longfellow’s Wreck of the Hesperus,” the introduction consists of two stanzas. The first informs us that the story con- cerns a schooner named Hesperus,” and adds that the skipper had taken his daughter with him on the voyage ; the second describes the daughter. The tale of the wreck begins with the third stanza. Study the poems mentioned on page 128, with refer- ence to the introduction. To THE Teacher. — Several stories in prose or verse with which the pupils are already acquainted should now be discussed by the teacher and the class, with reference to the length and the contents of the intro- duction, as well as its function in the story. See the note on page 128. The pupils should observe that the introduction must not be so long as to dwarf the composition itself, and that it need not include details that will inevitably suggest themselves to the reader as he proceeds. They should also notice that in several of the poems mentioned there is no intro- duction. This observation will prepare them for the study of Section 110. 132 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 109. Tell a story out of your own experience. Proceed in accordance with the following plan : — 1. Decide just what you wish to tell. 2. Prepare an outline, including an introduction if one is necessary. Separate principal and subordinate incidents care- fully, and arrange your material in proper order. 3. Write the story, following your outline. To THE Teacher. — This exercise may be repeated a good many times. Instead of writing the story, the pupil should occasionally be required to tell it orally, with his outline before him. SECTION 110. INTRODUCTION OMITTED. A narrative often begins, so to speak, in the middle. The first sentence may introduce us to the characters in action or in the midst of an exciting conversation. This method has the advantage of rousing the reader’s interest at the outset. Notice how ‘‘Lochinvar” begins (p. 118), without explaining who Lochinvar and the bride are or describing the circumstances at all. In such cases introductory matter may come in later, when the opening scene has been concluded. Thus, in Shakspere’s Julius Caesar,’’ the first scene shows us the Roman workmen making riotous holiday, and the magistrates rebuking them. It is not until the second scene that we learn the real subject of the drama, — the plot against Caesar and its results. So in Lochinvar” (p. 119) the fourth stanza explains (very briefly) all that we need to know of the previous history of Lochinvar and the bride. INTRODUCTION OMITTED. 133 Find some tale or drama which begins in this way, and show at what point the explanatory matter is brought in. You will often be surprised to see how small a quantity of explanatory matter is really needed to make a story intelligible. The less explanation you have to bring in, the more interesting the story will be. Something may safely be trusted to the imagina- tion, — more, indeed, than you would at first suppose. Notice how needless an introduction would be in ‘‘ Rumpelstiltskin ” (p. 112). SECTION 111. Pick out one or two incidents from Robinson Crusoe ” or Stevenson’s Kidnapped,” and see how little preliminary explanation will suffice to make them into complete stories. To THE Teacher. — The pupils may be required to write this prelim- inary matter in the form of a brief introduction ; or one pupil may report on the subject orally, and the rest may join in the discussion. In either case, stress should be laid on brevity. If an incident is selected which needs no introduction, that fact should he emphasized. SECTION 112. 1. Turn to such plays of Shakspere as you have read, and observe the way in which they begin. Compare what was said of ‘^lulius Caesar” on page 132. 2. Report, in the form of a story, the endeavors of Cassius to bring Brutus into the conspiracy. Begin with an introduction, stating the circumstances. 3. Tell the same story without an introduction. Begin with a conversation between Brutus and Cassius. 134 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 113. THE CONCLUSION OF A STOEY. In writing a story, as we have seen, one must have clearly in mind a definite incident or point to which the details should lead up. Thus, in ‘‘ Rumpelstiltskin ” (pp. 112-11) the whole tale leads up to the utterance of the uncanny creature's right name. In Kipling's ‘‘Jungle Book," the story of “ Kaa's Hunting" has its chief point in the rescue of Mowgli. This suggests the answer to a question that often causes trouble: ‘‘How shall a story close?” The difficulty varies with the nature of the subject and the manner of treatment. If the tale is well constructed, the point marks the height of the reader’s interest and should therefore form the natural conclusion, for there is nothing more to be told. Such a story follows the principle of the climax, and ends when the summit of the climax is reached.^ If, on the other hand, after the point has been reached, you find it necessary to add a lengthy expla- nation, you may be sure that you have not told your tale skilfully. In that case, you have to consider not how to conclude, but how to reconstruct the whole story so that it shall end naturally when the proper moment arrives. 1 Climax is a Greek word meaning “ ladder.” In rhetoric it signifies a method of construction in which each part of a phrase, sentence, or compo- sition is stronger or more impressive in some way than the part which immediately precedes. In popular language the term climax is often applied to the “highest point” or “culmination” of the interest; hut this is properly the summit of the climax. CONCLUSION OF A STORY. 135 In a narrative meant to convey information, to explain something, or to prove a statement or principle, a more formal conclusion may be necessary. This may consist of a paragraph setting forth the object of the whole or reciting the proposition that has been proved. Such a paragraph forms either an explanatory or a logical conclusion. Above all things, one should avoid the practice of closing with a flowery sentence, a commonplace moral, or a feeble bit of sentiment. The conclusion ought to seem natural and inevitable. Otherwise it is usually better to ‘‘stop when you get through,” even at the risk of a little abruptness.^ SECTION 114. 1. Read the narrative selections contained in this book, with particular reference to the conclusion of each. Copy the con- clusion of each narrative, observing whether it is a brief summary, a moral, a logical conclusion, or a mere formal ending. 2. From the material which you are studying in history or literature, select a brief narrative in which the author has made a good conclusion. Bring your story to the class and present the chief characteristics of the conclusion. 3. Find a short anecdote which has a distinct point and ends when the point is made. How do the details lead up to the point ? 4. Copy some fable in which the moral is expressed. Recite your fable to the class, discussing the effect of the moral. 5. Invent a fable. Try to tell it so that no moral is necessary, but state in a brief sentence the truth that you intend the fable to illustrate. Bring the fable to the class for criticism, and there decide whether the moral should be appended or not. 1 In a letter, however, an abrupt ending may suggest discourtesy and thus give a false impression of the writer. See p. 83. 136 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 115. THE FIRST PERSON IN NARRATION. It is good practice to write stories in the first person, whether they are accounts of your own experiences or not. This device not only helps to ensure liveliness and reality, but it assists you in selecting your material and in keeping to the point. The reason is plain. It is a general principle of human nature that every one is of considerable interest to himself. If you put yourself in the place of one of the characters in the story, the incidents become more real to you, and you are therefore more likely to keep track of them and to make them lead up directly and forcibly to the point that you wish to make. You have also a keener sense of the locality and the attendant circumstances, so that you unconsciously add many touches of action and description which impart color and animation to the wRole. When you tell a story in this way, — “ from the inside,” as it were, — you should be particularly care- ful not to shift the point of view. Remember that you are yourself one of the actors ; keep in mind your own position in the scene, and do not relate, as if you were an eye-witness, incidents which you could not have seen without being in two places at the same time. To THE Teacher. — The pupil should not be allowed to regard what is said of telling stories in the first person as an invariable “rule.” He should take it merely as a suggestion. His own reading will enforce it, and will at the same time show that there are numerous exceptions. The caution about the point of view will be abundantly illustrated by the exercises in Section 116. POINT OF VIEW. 137 SECTION 116. The following exercises afford practice in telling the same story from different points of view. Use the first person, except in Nos. 2 and 9. Observe that the incidents that are included depend in part on who is telling the story. 1. Tell the story of ^‘The Wreck of the Hesperus” as if you were the sailor who discovered the body of the child upon the beach. 2. Tell the story of “ Lochiuvar ” as an historian might tell it. Observe how the order of your story differs from that of the poem. 3. Tell the story of Lochinvar ” as the hero might have told it years afterward. 4. Tell the story of “ Lochinvar ” as the bride might have told it. 5. Imagine yourself in the place of the father in Lochinvar,” and tell the story. 6. Study Wordsworth’s We are Seven,” and tell the story as the little girl might have told it to her mother. 7. TeU the story of Mabel Martin ” as Mabel might have told it. 8. Eead The High Tide on the Coast of Lincolnshire.” Then write the story in a manner likely to interest children. 9. A boys’ club is studying history. Tell them the story of Paul Eevere’s Ride.” First, explain briefly the conditions that made the ride neces- sary. Then proceed with the story itself. Remember that the boys will not listen unless you make the subject interesting. Compare the order of your narrative in Exercise 9 with the order in Longfellow’s poem. How does Longfellow introduce the facts that you have put into your introductory statement? Are there other differences of order? 138 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 117. CONVERSATION IN STORIES. In real life, a word or a speech may be quite as important as an act. Dialogue or conversation, therefore, is an important element in a story. After Moses has come home from the fair (p. 116), what he says advances the story quite as much as what he does. So in ‘‘Rumpelstiltskin ” (pp. 112-14), the threats and commands of the goblin are necessary parts of the tale. Dialogue adds variety to a story, and thus stimulates the reader’s interest. It makes the action seem real by reproducing the very words of the actors and it may also often throw light on their character or circumstances. So, in the extract on pages 115-18, the vicar speaks far more calmly than his wife and uses better language. The wife’s hasty temper, goodness of heart, and inexperience are shown in every speech she utters. Again, the boyish self-conceit of Moses comes out unmistakably in his first remarks after his return. Thus the use of conversation may enable a writer to spare a good deal of descriptive or explanatory matter that might otherwise be needed. In story-telling, however, as in actual life, too much “talk” is tiresome. The conversation should never clog or enfeeble the action. In many stories, the actors, or some of them, talk in a local dialect and perhaps nse bad grammar. Such conversation shows immediately where the story is placed, and to what condition of life the speakers belong. Dialect, however, has no virtue in itself ; and, if used without restraint, it soon becomes very tiresome. A mere suggestion of peculiarities in speech is far better than a laborious attempt at complete reproduction. CONYEKSATIOX. 139 SECTION 118. CONVEESATION EEPOETING ACTION. When a story is told in the first person, it often hap- pens that a part of the action takes place at a distance from the main scene, or, at all events, not under the eyes of the supposed narrator. In such cases, this part of the action may be reported in a conversation in which the narrator takes part or which he overhears. In “ The Yicar of Wakefield/' for instance, what happened at the fair is related in the conversation that follows the return of Moses (pp. 116-18). A similar device may be employed in stories told in the third person. Thus, in ‘‘ Eumpelstiltskin " (p. 114), the messenger clears up the whole mystery in the report which he makes to the queen. He has seen a ridiculous little man hopping about a fire and singing a song that reveals the wished-for name. In both of these stories, then, the action is advanced in a direct and orderly way by means of conversation. SECTION 119. CONYEESATION CONDENSED. The conversation in a story can repeat but a small part of what would actually have been said in real life. You can read all the dialogue on pages 116-18 in two or three minutes ; but of course the actual scene would have lasted much longer. Goldsmith put in only enough to tell what happened and to suggest the feelings and characters of the actors. 140 THE MOTHER TONGUE. To write out all that is said in even a single recita- tion would require many pages. A story that should attempt to record every word that might have been spoken would swell out of all proportion. In writing a conversation, therefore, select such speeches as will help to advance the action or to make the narrative lively, and leave the Test to the imagination of your reader. SECTION 120. 1. Imagine yourself a witness of the fire described by Mr. Riis (p. 10). On returning home, you tell your sister what you have seen and heard. Report the conversation in such a manner as to tell the story of the fire. 2. Tell the story of Wordsworth’s ‘‘We are Seven” entirely in the third person, omitting direct quotations. Compare your story with the poem, noting the effect of the conversation. 3. Read Browning’s “Incident of the French Camp.” Study the introduction. What does it include ? How much is told by means of conversation ? Study the conversation carefully to see whether the author has used any superfluous words. 4. Bring to the class some story (either in verse or prose) which is told chiefly by means of conversation. Read it to the class, and ask questions to direct their study of the story. 5. Read to the class a selection from Cooper in which the narrative is carried on by means of conversation. 6. Bring to the class some short story (from a magazine) which illustrates the effective use of conversation in narrative. 7. A common fault in narrative which reports conversation is the frequent introduction of “said I,” “said he,” “I said,” “he said.” Report a conversation, attempting to avoid this fault. Sug- gest other phrases by which “ says he,” “ said I ” may be replaced. Note. — Observe that “ says I ” is never allowable. Under what cir- cumstances might “ says she ” and “ he says ” be appropriate ? MATERIAL FOR STORIES. 141 SECTION 121. MATERIAL FOR STORIES. No life is so flat and dull as not to afford material for good stories. Literature abounds in illustrations of this truth. Goldsmith’s ‘‘Vicar of Wakefield” sliows what a writer of genius may accomplish with the simplest materials. Mr. Barrie’s “ Window in Thrums ” is a collection of short stories about a sick woman, shut up in her room in an out-of-the-way village in Scot- land. It hardly goes beyond what she can see from her window or what the neighbors say when they call. The short stories in the better magazines often deal with life in little country towns, with the daily work of newspaper report- ers, with children’s doings, or with the slums in great cities. The art of story-writing consists largely in the ability to discern the human interest in commonplace experi- ences. To make such stories interesting, one must learn not to neglect and despise the little things of life. For, after all, these trifles, as we call them, go far to make our lot in the world pfleasant or disagreeable. We all know what it is ‘‘to get up on the wrong side of the bed,” and how, on such days, every trivial occur- rence is an obstacle or a burden. The newspaper reporter has few great events to chronicle. Yet, as he walks about the streets, he fills liis notebook daily with items that people are eager to read. The materials for story- writing, then, are abun- dant. We must train ourselves to observe small Iiap)- penings, to recognize their significance, and to report them so vividly that others will appreciate their interest. 142 THE MOTHER TONGUE. Observe the details that Goldsmith thinks it worth while to notice and to put into his Vicar of Wakefield” (p. 116, above). Mr. Burchell had bought the children each a pennyworth of gingerbread, which, says the vicar, my wife undertook to keep for them and give them by little at a time.” Again, the vicar’s wife ‘‘was unusually fond of a weasel-skin purse, as being the most lucky.” Read the description which Dickens gives of “ The Old Boat ” (pp. 159-60, below), and you will appreciate the effectiveness of trifles when handled by a great writer. Even in “ Lochinvar ” (p. 119), which is so brief, and moves so rapidly, we find the line “ And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume.” Omit it, and note what is lost. “ Rumpel- stiltskin ” (p. 112) would not be so good without the “whirr, whirr, whirr ” of the mill wheel. In Grey’s “ Australian Superstition ” (p. 122), the exact words of poor Kaiber’s song about the mussels impart vividness and reality to the anecdote. The preceding examples bring out the value of small details in story-writing. SECTION 122. SIGNIFICANCE OF DETAILS. Good writers never encumber their stories with useless matter. They may introduce a multitude of details, but every one serves a definite purpose. In “ The Vicar of Wakefield,” for instance. Goldsmith wishes to make the reader feel the simplicity and unworldliness of the vicar and his family. This he accomplishes by the aid of many little touches, some of them apparently quite accidental, but all in reality significant.^ If Mr. Burchell had been the subject 1 See the extract on pages 115-18. Compare i)p. 21-24. SIGNIFICANCE OF DETAILS. 143 of the story, Goldsmith would have selected his details quite differently. Again, in “ Rumpelstiltskin ” ^ (p. 114), the wrong names are mentioned with deliberate purpose, in order to increase the reader’s suspense. In Grey’s ‘‘Australian Superstition” (p. 121), the use of the native word for wizard marks the contrast between the ignorant savage and the enlightened explorer. Thus the point of the story comes out more clearly. To THE Teacher. — This section is illustrative. It directs the pupil’s attention to the practice of good writers and should be of service in culti- vating the critical faculty. The method here suggested may be followed in connection with other examples and in the criticism of the pupil’s own work. Such analysis, however, should not be pushed too far. Exhaust- iveness is out of the question. SECTION 123. 1. Make a note of thirty little things that have happened to you, or have come under your observation, in the last six hours. Then select such as you think you might use in a story (1) of child life, (2) of an accident, (3) of home life. 2. Read “ Rip van Winkle,” and report to the class passages that illustrate Irving’s observation of details. 3. Read Cowper’s “John Gilpin,” noting the details which enliven the story and make it effective. 4. Study Hawthorne’s account of the fight with the Minotaur (p. 126) in the same way. 5. Find a chapter of “ Ivanhoe,” “ Quentin Durward,” or “ The Talisman,” that is full of action. Note the details, and try to determine the purpose of each. 1 “ Rumpel stilt skin ” is a fairy tale derived from oral tradition. It is not, in its origin, a conscious piece of individual literary art. Its form, then, is due in the main to a kind of “ natural selection,” The finishing touches, however, were given by William Grimm, 144 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 124. COMPLICATION OF PLOT. A simple story, as we have seen, may follow the order of time throughout; but in a more complicated narrative this is seldom possible. For example, there may be two sets of characters acting in different places at the same time, and the point of the story may be the combined effect of their separate action. Thus the story of the discovery of a gold mine might bring in (1) an exploring or prospecting party who are searching for gold, and (2) a band of hunters who have come from quite another direction and have no thought of treasure. The point of the story might be the simultaneous discovery of the mine by the two parties and their contest over the ownership. This is a very simple example, but it illustrates the general principle of all complications of plot. The search of the prospectors and the wanderings of the hunting party take place at the same time, but they cannot be told at the same time. In a novel or romance the complications may be very numerous ; for a number of different stories may com- bine to make the plot of the book. In such cases, the author must keep the several sets of characters distinct, as well as their action, until the moment when they naturally come together or cross each other’s path. “A T‘d\e of Two Cities,” for instance, might be analyzed into a number of separate stories : the story of IMr. Lorry, of the Manettes, of Carton, of Darnay, of the Defarges, of Cruncher. In constructing the plot, Dickens brings these persons, who differ so widely in character and circumstances, into such situations COMPLTCATIOX OF PLOT. 145 that their several fortunes act and react upon each other, until finally Sidney Carton, who seems to be wasting his life, comes under the ennobling influence of Lucie and sacrifices himself to save her husband. Stevenson’s ‘‘Treasure Island” is a good example of the complications of time and action that may arise in a not very -elaborate plot. It also illustrates the art of a good stoiy-teller in keeping the parts of a plot distinct so that there is no confusion in the reader’s mind. Part I describes the pirates and tells how the map of Treasure Island was found in Billy Bones’s sea chest. Here everything moves in the actual order of time ; for the narrator, flim Hawkins, is the chief actor in all these events. At the beginning of Part II, however. Squire Trelawney is in Bristol, purchasing a ship for the expedition and engaging his crew, — among them John Silver, who afterwards causes so much trouble. Jim is still at home. Hence Mr. Trelawney’s doings are narrated in a letter to old Redruth, which is read aloud by Jim, because the recipient ‘‘was a poor hand at reading anything but print.” Then the story continues in Jim’s own words. The conspiracy of the mutineers, however, is not inserted in its actual chrono- logical position. It had been formed before the ship sailed, l)ut our first knowledge of the plan conies from a conversation between Silver and the mutineers, which Jim overhears from his liiding-place in the apple barrel. Later, when the island is reached and Jim has slipped ashoi*e, there are the separate adventures (1) of flim, (2) of Captain Smollett’s party, and (3) of Silver’s gang, — all of which are going on at the same time but in different places. These have to be kept distinct ; yet their relations to each other must be made plain. Accordingly, Jim tells his own adventures; then three chapters are given to the Doctor’s story of what happened to the Captain’s party; and finally, when Jim resumes the narrative. 146 THE MOTHER TONGUE. Silver comes in with a flag of truce and we gather enough of what has happened to the mutineers to keep the story intelligible. So the tale goes on, Jim’s personal adventures coming more and more to the front, until, at the end, all that has happened to the others while Jim was in the coracle, on board the Hispaniola, and in the mutineers’ camp, is related to Jim, in a few words, as the party “proceeds leisurely downhill to where the boats are lying.” Compare Stevenson’s ‘‘Treasure Island” with “Robin- son Crusoe,” and you will at once perceive that the former has the more complicated plot. In “ Robinson Crusoe,” ^ long as it is, there is only a single story, — that of Crusoe’s own experiences. The tale “begins at the beginning.” Crusoe tells of his birth and parentage, how he first went to sea, then became a Guinea trader, was taken prisoner by the Moors, escaped and settled in Brazil, and finally embarked on the voyage which ended with his shipwreck. Since Crusoe is the only person concerned, all these events are told in the order in which they occurred. From this point, except for Friday’s account of himself, the book is a straightforward record of Robinson’s adventures. Hence Defoe can still follow the order of time, and has no trouble in keep- ing the thread of the story from breaking or getting tangled. To THE Teacher. — Pupils should not undertake the construction of plots that are at all complicated. The study of “ Treasure Island ” outlined in this section will serve to warn them against this error in judgment. Further, they should he directed to select simple stories when they are asked to bring in examples of narration. The analysis of “ Treasure Island” may he followed hy similar exercises with other books if the class is ready for such work. “ Ivanhoe,” “ The Talisman,” A Tale of Two Cities,” “David Copperfield,” and “Silas Marner ” will afford material enough. 1 Part I is of course meant. NARRATIVE IN LITERATURE. 147 SECTION 125. THE NARRATIVE IN LITERATURE. If we turn to literature, and consider the stories that have been woven out of the tangled threads of human experience, we find almost as many varieties as there are kinds of readers. The diversity is so great, and the differences melt into each other so indistinguishably, that no thoroughgoing classification is possible. We may begin, however, with the familiar division into “ true stories ” and fiction. Among true stories ” we may classify histories, biographies, and other similar works that we have decided to call narratives (pp. 122-3). With them would go books of travel and exploration, like Stan- ley’s In Darkest Africa,” Nansen’s ‘‘ Farthest North,” Grey’s Explorations in Australia,” and Dana’s ‘‘ Two Years Before the Mast.” Such narratives are often as entertaining as any novel. Besides, they record facts of permanent importance, for their material is the actual experience of real men and women. The great class of fiction includes not only made-up stories,” but also many poems and plays. Indeed, it comprises the greater part of what we commonly call literature. In such works, the material, instead of being the actual experience of a limited number of real persons, may be drawn from the collective experience of many ages and nations, or it may pass beyond expe- rience into the realm of the purely imaginative. This class of literature is of boundless extent. It includes, on the one hand, works like ‘‘ Robinson Crusoe ” and 148 THE MOTHER TONGUE. David Copperfield,” which seem almost truer than reality, and, on the other, fairy stories, dramas like ‘‘ A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” and, in our own day, tales like those in Kipling’s “Jungle Books,” — all of them the product of the poetical imagination. In fic- tion, then, the material of experience has been, as it were, dissolved and recrystallized into new creations, of 'which some bear the semblance of reality, while others are unreal and even fantastic. The mere fact that a story is a work of fiction, how- ever, does not prevent its having a deep and significant truth of its own. Great pieces of literature, such as the novels of Hawthorne or Dickens or Thackeray, or the plays of Shakspere, are true to nature in a sense that is not merely figurative ; for they exhibit life and charac- ter in distinct and intelligible outlines. A simple fairy tale like “ The Ugly Duckling ” may bring into clear light the pathos of some life that seemed lost in the multitude of everyday details. That fiction has a truth of its own we may easily see by considering how it is used in fables and allegories to convey a lesson. A fable, which is a very short story, usually of beasts or inanimate objects, throws into strong relief some characteristic or foible of human nature. “The Fox and the Grapes ” and “The Lion’s Sliare ” are fables that have passed into proverbs. An allegory is a more artificial and elaborate parable, in which the actors are sometimes personified qualities, like Courage or Temperance or Craftiness. Both alle- gory and fable show how effectively fiction may convey deep and universal truths. We find, then, that the distinction between “true NARRATIVE IN LITERATURE. 149 stories ” and works of pure imagination, though con- venient, is not quite essential. For fiction may be just as true^ in the higher sense of the word, as history or travel or any other record of actual experience. Let us therefore make another classification of stories, dividing them into (1) those that have their main interest in adventure, and (2) those in which the emphasis is laid rather on character or manners. The first class needs no discussion. llobinson Crusoe ” has been read for two hundred years, and is quite as popular now as it was in Defoe’s lifetime. Indeed, tales of adventure were never in greater favor than they are to-day. Stevenson’s ‘‘ Treasure Island ” and Kidnapped ” and Kipling’s stories are familiar to every one. Such tales give us pleasure because through them we share in new and stirring experiences which most of us can never have. They bring the whole world to our firesides. As we read them, we feel the enchantment of strange lands and distant seas. In stories of the second class, — and especially in novels, — the interest lies not so much in what the actors do as in what they are. The purpose is not primarily to describe adventures, but rather to portray character. Into this class fall such works as George Eliot’s novels, with most of those of Dickens, of Thackeray, and (among American writers) of Hawthorne. There may be incident in plenty (as in ‘‘A Tale of Two Cities”), yet the chief purpose is to bring the actors into situa- tions that will throw their characters into relief. Compare a story of pure adventure, like Robinson Crusoe” or “Treasure Island,” with the “Tale of 150 THE MOTHER TONGUE. Two Cities,” and you feel the difference at once. In the latter, there are as many exciting events, as many hairbreadth escapes, as in either of the former. Yet you instinctively feel that these are not told merely for their own sake. There is a great deal else in the story. You remember the sweetness of Lucie; the uprightness of Doctor Manette; the quiet, fierce heat of Madame Defarge’s vengeance ; the nobility concealed under the reckless bearing of Sidney Carton. All these persons, with many others, are brought so vividly before you in the Tale of Two Cities ” that you forget that they are creatures of the imagination. Indeed, the characters in novels are often far more real to us than the personages of history. Frequently, too, the main interest of a work of fiction resides in the state of society or of manners that it por- trays. Such is the case in Jane Austen’s novels. In our own day, the life of New England has been described in the stories of Miss Jewett and Miss Wilkins ; that of the Middle West by Octave Thanet. Though the life that they portray is commonplace enough, it is so vividly and naturally depicted that nobody finds it dull. The reason why studies of character and manners are so widely read is that human nature is always inter- esting. A good novelist picks out a few typical persons, and detaches their experiences from those of the mass of people that surround them. Thus we get a vivid impression of their human qualities, and our interest is roused and sustained. An intelligent reading of the best novels is not a waste of time ; for to understand human nature is no small part of wisdom. But we must distinguish between NARRATIVE IN LITERATURE. 151 what is really good and what is merely entertaining for the moment. A good novel preserves, in memorable form, some record of human nature which is true to life. The general run of trashy stories do little more than put a set of wooden puppets through a series of mechanical and meaningless antics. The greatest figure in all English literature is Shak- spere. He owes his preeminence in part to the beauty and splendor of his poetry. Even more he owes it, however, to his unfailing insight into human nature in all its variety and all its depths. Most of his dramatic material was common to the playwrights of his day. Tragedies of revenge were familiar to the London stage at the end of the sixteenth century. Most of them are forgotten, except by scholars. Yet ‘‘ Hamlet ” survives because Shakspere inspired the persons of the drama with such life that we cannot bring ourselves to regard them as fictitious. Men still discuss the character of Hamlet as seriously as they discuss the character of Napoleon. To THE Teacher. — This section is meant for reading and discussion and should be adapted to the needs and experience of the pupils. If they have read many stories, they should observe how the interest of one lies in incident, and that of another in character or manners ; and they may be brought to perceive how the portrayal of character deepens and enhances the value of a novel or romance. A comparison between different kinds of biography will help to make the distinction clear. Thus, they may con- trast the bare record of biographical facts afforded by an article in an encyclopedia with a ‘‘ Life and Letters ” which attempts to portray the character of its subject in every detail. Again, Scott and Stevenson may be compared with George Eliot and Dickens. A discussion of some of Shakspere’s characters will assist the pupils to comprehend the power of imaginative literature to express the many-sidedness of human nature. If time and opportunity fail for any of these exercises, a mere reading of this section in the class will count for something. 152 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 126. EXERCISES IN NARRATION. 1. Tell a short true story from history. 2. Tell the story of Washington’s winter at Valley Forge, oi of Arnold’s treason. 3. Write a story to be called ‘‘ The Rescue of Alexander.” Do not let the identity of Alexander appear until you get to the culminating point of your story. 4. Bring to the class some story in which the introduction describes the scene. Write the story in your own words. 5. Select from some story with which you are familiar a brief bit of narrative or conversation. Copy the selection to read in the class, and preface the extract with such introductory matter as seems to you suitable. JMake the introduction as clear and concise as possible. 6. Study some narrative poem with which you are familiar, and describe in writing the poet’s introduction to the story. 7. Recite one of ^Esop’s fables. If the story is formally intro- duced, describe the introduction. If the writer has omitted the introduction, give reasons for the omission. 8. Read the story of Paul Revere’s Ride.” Select from the poem all the portions in which the action is suggested through conversation. Try to tell the story without introducing con- versation. Observe what is lost. 9. Write an anecdote in which the point of the story is intro- duced in conversation. After writing, cut out the superfluous conversation. Study to make your story as concise and effective as possible. 10. Read Browning’s ‘‘Incident of the French Camp,” observ- ing the effectiveness of the conversation that is introduced. Find some other narrative poem in which the author employs conver- sation. Compare the two, giving special attention to the i)oint of the narrative and to the omission of unnecessary details. EXERCISES IX XARRATTOX. 153 11. A"ou have been spending tlie vacation with a friend who lives in another state. Write to your friends at home, giving an account of your vacation. 12. A"ou have travelled by sea from Savannah to Boston. In a letter to a friend, tell some of the incidents of your passage. 13. Write a letter to an old gentleman who is a friend of yours, describing a day which you have spent in the scene of his boyhood. 14. Write to a child, relating an amusing incident which has happened in your experience. 15. Find a piece of narrative in which action is prominent. Read your selection in the class, bringing out the various ways in which action is described or suggested. 16. Bring to the class some narrative poem in which action is effectively represented. 17. Prepare an outline of ‘‘ The Ancient Mariner.” Then tell the story from your outline. 18. Bring to the class a good reading book which you used in the grammar school, and point out examples of introduction and conclusion in narratives or stories. 19. Select a striking incident from some magazine article. Copy it to present to the class, writing a suitable introduction. Your introduction should state the source of your selection and should properly relate the incident to the main article. 20. Examine a few well-known stories, — Tvanhoe,” Silas Marner,” one of Cooper’s tales, some of Miss Jewett’s or IMiss Wilkins’s shorter stories, or ‘-Tom Brown’s School-Days,” and observe the concluding chapter, paragraph, or sentence in each. Be prepared to describe these conclusions in an oral report to the class. 21. Select from the writings of Thoreau, ]\Ir. eJolin Burroughs, Mr. Ernest Thompson Seton, or Mr. William J. Long some account of the life of an animal. Note particularly the details which the writer has observed and has introduced into his account. 154 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 22. Report in writing the plot of some story which you have read. 23. Read a single chapter of Dickens’s Tale of Two Cities.” Use the chapter as an example of action, of incident, and of detail in narration. 24. Read one of the fables in the following list. Be prepared to tell it in the class. Have clearly in mind the outline of the story and its point. Use no superfluous words, but introduce any details which seem to you to make your story more vivid. The Dog and the Shadow. The Dog in the Manger. The Wolf and the Crane. The Fox and the Crow. The Wolf and the Kid. The Frog and the Ox. The Two Crabs. The Crow and the Pitcher. The Wind and the Sun. The Milkmaid. 25. Rewrite one of the fables in the list given in Exercise 24 as if you were telling it to a child. Expand items in which the child might be most interested, and introduce descriptive words and phrases to heighten the effect of your story. 26. Read one of the stories in Hawthorne’s ‘‘Wonder-Book” or “ Tanglewood Tales,” observing the means by which the author secures the interest and attention of children. Bring the book to the class and read selections in which the adaptation of the story to the audience is clearly shown. How is this adaptation brought about? 27. Recite to the class a short story from some magazine. Prepare a written outline of the story to guide you in the telling. Omit subordinate details, and repeat only the i^rincipal incidents of the story. 28. Recite a fable to the class, and ask your classmates to append a conclusion in the form of a moral. 29. Tell the story of an accident on the railroad, (1) as a reporter would tell it; (2) as a child who was injured might tell it ; (3) as a spectator might report it ; (4) as a man who escaped unhurt might tell it. EXERCISES IX NARRATION. 155 30. A MORNING’S SPORT. Boys follow an organ grinder, making an uproar whenever he attempts to play. Tell the story (1) from the boys’ point of view; (2) from that of the organ grinder; (3) from that of a citizen who observed the proceedings and sent the boys home. 31. MARY’S MISTAKE. Mary Blake has come to a city school from her home in the country. She is not accustomed to the routine of the new school and sometimes makes awkward mistakes. The teacher asks Mary to take a note to the principal. Mary attempts to leave the room, but opens the closet door instead and walks into the closet. The pupils laugh boisterously, and she leaves the room in confusion. The teacher reproves the class. Tell the story (1) as Mary told it to her mother; (2) as a sympathetic girl friend told it; (3) as a chivalrous boy might have told it to a comrade after school. 32. THE RESCUE. A boy of fourteen is fishing from a wharf. A child of four is playing on the wharf and falls into the water. The boy, who is a good swimmer, throws oft his jacket, plunges into the water, and rescues the child. Tell the story (1) as the child’s mother might have told it; (2) as if you were a newspaper reporter ; (3) in a modest, straight- forward manner, as the boy might tell it. 33. A boy of ten visits the zoological gardens with his father. Tell the story of his visit (1) as the father might report it; (2) as the boy might tell it ; (3) as the boy’s mother, who stayed at home, might rehearse it. 156 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 34. AN ACCIDENT. Two boys are rowing on a lake. Their boat capsizes. One of them swims to the shore ; the other cannot swim, but clings to the shift until he is rescued by a bystander. Describe the rescue (1) in the words of the boy who swam to the shore, deserting his companion ; (2) as if you were the bystander ; (8) as if you were the father of the boy who clung to the' shift. 35. THE BROKEN WINDOW. Two boys are playing ball in the street. Suddenly their ball crashes through a large plate-glass window in a drug store. One boy runs away and hides behind a bush. The other boy walks up to the drug store, explains the accident to the proprietor, and asks what he can do to make up for the damage. Tell the story (1) as the second boy might have told it upon his return home, including the conversation between him and the proprietor; (2) as the angry druggist might have told it; (3) from the point of view of the boy who hid behind the bush. 36. THE LOST CHILD. A little girl follows a procession. She is lost and tries to find her way home. She is met and recognized by the milkman, who carries her with him over his route, and returns her to her home in the evening. 1. Tell the story as if it happened in the city; in the country. 2. Report the incident for a newspaper. 8. Recite the incident, placing it in the country. 4. Tell it as the milkman might rehearse it. 5. Report the child’s version of the story. 6. Tell the whole story as the child’s mother might recite it afterwards. 37. Pi’epare to tell the story of Phaethon.^ Read the story, then make a careful outline for use in telling it to the class. 1 See Gayley’s “ Classic Myths ” or Bulliuch’s “ Age of Fable.” DESCRIPTIONS. 157 SECTION 127. DESCRIPTION. Sections 127-9 contain three characteristic specimens of description. Dana’s “Iceberg” is an extract from his “Two Years Before the Mast”; it is direct and unpretentious in style. Dickens’s “ Old Boat ” is a good example of the use of details to produce the effect of reality. Miss Mitford’s “Country in Winter” is somewhat more formal ; it expresses the feelings of a cultivated mind toward nature. AN ICEBERG. By R. H. Dana. This day the sun rose fair, but it ran too low in the heavens to give any heat, or thaw out our sails and rigging ; yet the sight of it was pleasant, and we had a steady ‘‘ reef-top-sail breeze ’’ from the westward. The atmosphere, which had previously been clear and cold, for the last few hours grew damp, and had a disagree- able, wet chilliness in it; and the man who came from the wheel said he heard the captain tell ‘‘the passenger ’’ that the thermom- eter had fallen several degrees since morning, which he could not account for in any other way than by supposing that there must be ice near us ; though such a thing had never been heard of in this latitude at this season of the year. At twelve o’clock we went below, and had just got through dinner, when the cook put his head down the scuttle and told us to come on deck and see the finest sight that we had ever seen. “ Where away, cook?” asked the first man who was up. “ On the larboard bow.” And there lay, floating on the ocean, several miles off, an immense, irregular mass, its top and points covered with snow, and its centre of a deep indigo color. This was an iceberg, and 158 THE MOTHER TONGUE. of the largest size, as one of our men said who had been in the Northern ocean. As far as the eye could reach, the sea in every direction was of a deep blue color, the waves running high and fresh, and sparkling in the light, and in the midst lay this immense mountain-island, its cavities and valleys thrown into deep shade, and its points and pinnacles glittering in the sun. All hands were soon on deck, looking at it, and admiring in various ways its beauty and grandeur. But no description can give any idea of the strangeness, splendor, and, really, the sublimity, of the sight. Its great size, — for it must have been from two to three miles in circumference and several hundred feet in height ; — its slow motion, as its base rose and sank in the water, and its high points nodded against the clouds; the dashing of the waves upon it, which, breaking high with foam, lined its base with a white crust ; and the thundering sound of the cracking of the mass, and the breaking and tumbling down of huge pieces ; together with its nearness and approach, which added a slight element of fear, all combined to give to it the character of true sublimity. The main body of the mass was, as I have said, of an indigo color, its base crusted with frozen foam ; and as it grew thin and transparent toward the edges and top, its color shaded oh from a deep blue to the whiteness of snow. It seemed to be drifting slowly toward the north, so that we kept away and avoided it. It was in sight all the afternoon ; and when we got to leeward of it, the wind died away, so that we lay-to quite near it for a great part of the night. Unfortunately, there was no moon, but it was a clear night, and we could plainly mark the long, regular heaving of the stupendous mass, as its edges moved slowly against the stars, now revealing them, and now shutting them in. Several times in our watch loud cracks were heard, which sounded as though they must have run through the whole length of the iceberg, and several pieces fell down with a thundering crash, plunging heavily into the sea. Toward morn- ing, a strong breeze sprang up, and we filled away, and left it astern, and at daylight it was out of sight. DESCRIPTIONS. 169 SECTION 128. THE OLD BOAT.i By Dickens. Ham was waiting for us at the public-house ; and asked me how I found myself, like an old acquaintance. I did not feel, at first, that I knew him as well as he knew me, because he had never come to our house since the night I was born, and naturally he had the advantage of me. But our intimacy was much advanced by his taking me on his back to carry me home. He was, now, a huge, strong fellow of six feet high, broad in propor- tion, and round-shouldered ; but with a simpering boy’s face and curly light hair that gave him quite a sheepish look. He was dressed in a canvas jacket, and a pair of such very stiff trousers that they would have stood quite as well alone, without any legs in them. And you could n’t so properly have said he wore a hat, as that he was covered in a-top, like an old building, with some- thing pitchy. Ham carrying me on his back and a small box of ours under his arm, and Peggotty carrying another small box of ours, we turned down lanes bestrewn with bits of chips and little hillocks of sand, and went past gas-works, rope-walks, boat-builders’ yards, shipwrights’ yards, ship-breakers’ yards, caulkers’ yards, riggers’ lofts, smiths’ forges, and a great litter of such places, until we came out upon the dull waste I had already seen at a distance ; when Ham said, ‘‘Yon ’s our house, Mas’r Davy ! ” I looked in all directions, as far as I could stare over the wil- derness, and away at the sea, and away at the river, but no house could I make out. There was a black barge, or some other kind of superannuated boat, not far off, high and dry on the ground, with an iron funnel sticking out of it for a chimney and smoking very cosily ; but nothing else in the way of a habitation that was visible to me. 1 From “David Copperfield.” 160 THE MOTHER TONGUE. “ That ’s not it ? said I. ‘‘ That ship-looking thing ? ” That ’s it, Mas’r Davy,” returned Ham. If it had been Aladdin’s palace, roc’s egg and all, I suppose I could not have been more charmed with the romantic idea of liv- ing in it. There was a delightful door cut in the side, and it was roofed in, and there were little windows in it ; but the wonderful charm of it was, that it was a real boat which had no doubt been upon the water hundreds of times, and which had never been intended to be lived in, on dry land. That was the captivation of it to me. If it had ever been meant to be lived in, I might have thought it small, or inconvenient, or lonely ; but never hav- ing been designed for any such use, it became a perfect abode. It was beautifully clean inside, and as tidy as possible. There was a table, and a Dutch clock, and a chest of drawers, and on the chest of drawers there was a tea-tray with a painting on it of a lady with a parasol, taking a walk with a military-looking child who was trundling a hoop. The tray was kept from tumbling down, by a Bible ; and the tray, if it had tumbled down, would have smashed a quantity of cups and saucers and a teapot that were grouped around the book. On the walls there were some common colored pictures, framed and glazed, of scripture sub- jects ; such as I have never seen since in the hands of pedlars, without seeing the whole interior of Peggotty’s brother’s house again, at one view. Abraham in red going to sacrifice Isaac in blue, and Daniel in yellow cast into a den of green lions, were the most prominent of these. Over the little mantel-shelf, was a pic- ture of the Sarah Jane lugger,^ built at Sunderland, with a real little wooden stern stuck on to it; a work of art, combining composition ^ with carpentry, which I considered to be one of the most enviable possessions that the world could afford. There were some hooks in the beams of the ceiling, the use of which I did not divine then; and some lockers and boxes and conven- iences of that sort, which served for seats and eked out the chairs. 1 A kind of sailing vessel. 2 In the artist’s sense (see the Dietionary). DESCRIPTIONS. 161 SECTION 129. THE COUNTRY IN WINTER. i By Miss Mitford. Now we have reached the trees, — the beautiful trees! never so beautiful as to-day. Imagine the effect of a straight and regular double avenue of oaks, nearly a mile long, arching over- head, and closing into perspective like the roof and columns of a cathedral, every tree and branch incrusted with the bright and delicate congelation of hoar-frost, white and pure as snow, deli- cate and defined as carved ivory. How beautiful it is, how’ uniform, how various, how filling, how satiating to the eye and to the mind — above all, how melancholy ! There is a thrilling awfulness, an intense feeling of simple power in that naked and colorless beauty, which falls on the earth like the thoughts of death — death pure, and glorious, and smiling, — but still death. Sculpture has always the same effect on my imagination, and painting never. Color is life. We are now at the end of this magnificent avenue, and at the top of a steep eminence commanding a wide view over four counties — a landscape of snow. A deep lane leads abruptly down the hill; a mere narrow cart-track, sinking between high banks clothed with fern and furze and low broom, crowned with luxuriant hedgerows, and famous for their summer smell of thyme. How lovely these banks are now — the tall weeds and the gorse fixed and stiffened in the hoar-frost, which fringes round the bright prickly holly, the pendent foliage of the bramble, and the deep orange leaves of the pollard oaks I O, this is rime in its loveliest form I And there is still a berry here and there on the holly, “ blushing in its natural coral ” through the delicate tracery, still a stray hip or haw for the birds, who abound here always. The poor birds, how tame they are, how sadly tame I There is the beautiful and rare crested wren, that shadow of a bird,” as 1 From “ Our Village.” 162 THE MOTHER TOKGUE. White of Selborne calls it, perched in the middle of the hedge, nestling as it were amongst the cold bare boughs, seeking, poor pretty thing, for the warmth it will not find. And there, farther on, just under the bank, by the slender runlet, which still trickles between its transparent fantastic margin of thin ice, as if it were a thing of life, — there, with a swift, scudding motion, flits, in short low flights, the gorgeous kingfisher, its magnificent plumage of scarlet and blue flashing in the sun, like the glories of some tropical bird. He is come for water to this little spring by the hillside, — water which even his long bill and slender head can hardly reach, so nearly do the fantastic forms of those garland- like icy margins meet over the tiny stream beneath. It is rarely that one sees the shy beauty so close or so long ; and it is pleasant to see him in the grace and beauty of his natural liberty, the only way to look at a bird. We used, before we lived in a street, to fix a little board out- side the parlor window, and cover it with bread crumbs in the hard weather. It was quite delightful to see the pretty things come and feed, to conquer their shyness, and do away their mis- trust. First came the more social tribes, ^‘the robin redbreast and the wren,” cautiously, suspiciously, picking up a crumb on the wing, with the little keen bright eye fixed on the window; then they would stop for two pecks ; then stay till they were satisfied. The shyer birds, tamed by their example, came next ; and at last one saucy fellow of a blackbird — a sad glutton, he would clear the board in two minutes, — used to tap his bill against the window for more. How we loved the fearless confi- dence of that fine, frank-hearted creature ! And surely he loved us. I wonder the practice is not more general. May ! ^ May ! naughty May ! ” she has frightened away the kingfisher ; and now, in her coaxing penitence, she is covering me with snow. Come, pretty May ! it is time to go home.” Observe the use of the present tense in this descrip- tion. 1 May was the writer’s pet greyhound. DESCRIPTION AND EXPLANATION. 163 SECTION 130. DESCRIPTION AND EXPLANATION. Description, in the larger sense, includes two distinct kinds of composition. The description of a machine, for instance, usually consists in an exact account of its various parts and of the way in which they are put together. The botanical description of a plant is of much the same kind. Simi- larly, we can so describe a house by giving its dimen- sions, etc., that the reader may draw an accurate plan of the building. All such description is, you will notice, explanatory ; its sole object is to make the reader understand. Contrast the following description of a night scene in London : — Black night lay over the city, and silence; the river flowed unseen through the darkness ; but a thousand golden points of fire mapped out the lines of the Embankment and the long curves of the distant bridges. The infrequent sounds that could be heard were strangely distinct, even when they were faint and remote. There was a slight rustling of wind in the trees below the window. — William Black. We feel the difference instantly. On what does it depend? The answer is, “On the different purpose of the writer.” In descriptions of the first kind, the writer’s object is, as we have seen, to explain ; he appeals to your understanding. In those of the second kind, his object is to call up in your mind the same picture that he has in his own. He appeals not so much to your understanding as to your imagination. In the one case the writer tries 164 THE MOTHER TONGUE. to make you understand ; in the other, he tries to make you see and feel. This distinction is of much practical importance ; for the methods followed in the two kinds of description differ in many particulars. For convenience we shall hereafter call the first kind explanation, and shall confine the term description to the second.^ Leaving explanation to be discussed by-and-by, we shall now pass to the study of description in the more limited sense. To THE Teacher. — The pupil should not infer that the use of the term description in the larger sense is incorrect merely because it is con- venient to limit the application of the word in the present discussion. Many terms are well established in both a general and a particular meaning. Care should also be taken not to force the distinction set forth in this section. There is a continuous line from explanation pure and simple to the most highly wrought poetical description. Compare the Note to the Teacher on page 123. SECTION 131. PICTURES AND DESCRIPTIONS. Suppose you wish to make a friend see, in his mind’s eye, some place or object that has interested you, and to make him realize the impression that it has produced upon your own mind and feelings. There are two ways of doing this : (1) by means of a picture ; (2) by means of words, that is, by a description. Let us study these two ways and consider what advan- tages each has over the other. 1 Observe that all scientific and technical description belongs to the first class ; all “ literary ” and poetical descri]3tion to the second. PICTURES AND DESCRIPTIONS. 165 As I look out of the window, I see a number of trees, a black- smith’s shop, a cart, a railroad station painted red, a patch of blue sky, a little strip of river, also blue, two piles of lumber, and a great many other objects, — all without moving my eyes. These objects might all be put into a picture so that you could see them, as I do, all together at the same instant. Further, the objects which I see from the window have very different outlines. Their colors, too, are all different. One pile of lumber has been exposed to the weather longer than the other ; the blue of the river differs from the blue of the sky ; and in the trees there are many shades of green. All these objects might be put into a painting, with outlines as sharp and colors as distinct as they have in the reality. Suppose, now, I should try to describe this scene from the window in words. In a painting, you could see all the objects at the same instant with a single glance of the eyes. In my description, I should have to string the details along one after the other so that the last object mentioned might not be reached until several minutes after the first. Here, then, is one striking difference between painting and description. Furthermore, my description would give you a very imperfect idea of the outlines of the various objects. So long as the lines are straight, I should not have much difficulty. But when I came to the irregular curves which a natural object has, I could find no words to describe them adequately. The same is true of colors. How can I express, for example, the difference between the green of an oak and that of an elm. 166 THE MOTHER TONGUE. or between the green of a pine and that of a spruce? How can I distinguish the blue in the sky from the blue on the river? In some respects, then, words cannot compare in effectiveness with pictures. The mere outlines in a Greek vase painting will give you a more immediate appreciation of the grace and beauty of the human form than pages of descriptive writing. A silhouette in black paper will enable you to recognize a stranger more quickly than the most elaborate description in words. On the other hand, words have quite as many advan- tages on their side. For instance, what can a picture tell you about wind or heat, about sound or smell, about motion, about the feeling of roughness or moisture? Nothing directly ; it can only suggest. It may indicate that the wind blows by showing the water ruffled or the white backs of the leaves turned up. It can indicate heat still less effectively, as, for example, by means of very black and sharply defined shadows on a white ground, to suggest sunlight. And when you come to sound or smell or the sense of feeling, a picture can only hint at the facts in a roundabout way, — as by putting in a man in a listening attitude, or a girl smelling a rose, or a boy shivering with cold on the ice. Think how many pictures you have seen which meant nothing to you because you did not know the story beforehand. A picture can represent only a single instant in the course of a story; it cannot tell what went before or what happened afterward. With words, however, you can describe all these things. If you cannot make your reader see the exact shape of an object, you can give him a much clearer PICTURES AND DESCRIPTIONS, 1G7 idea of motion and sound and feeling than he can get from the most accurate photograph or the most skilfully painted picture. Read George Eliot’s description of ‘‘The Valley of the Floss ” (p. 177), and notice the many details it contains which a picture could not portray. In the first paragraph we have the Floss hurrying on, the tide rushing to meet it, the fresh-scented pine-j)lanks home along, the transient glance ; in the second paragraph, the lively current, the changing wavelets, the low, placid voice of the river. If yon should cut out these details, the description would be tame and lifeless. Indeed, Dana points out, after describing the iceberg, how help- less a painter would be to express its true effect. To THE Teacher. — This section should be read aloud in the class room and discussed by teacher and pupils. The distinction between descriptions and pictures is of capital importance in both literature and art and is also of much practical consequence for composition. It is easily grasped by young students, and a proper comprehension of its bearings will do much to stimulate interest in literature and in the world about us. The distinction may be enforced by a simple exercise: the pupil may write down the sensations of which he is conscious at a given time, and then may designate (1) those that might go into a painting, and (2) those that may be portrayed better by means of words. Such an experiment will be found very instructive. SECTION 132. Our study in Section 131 has shown us that the chief advantage of a description in comparison with a picture, lies in the power of words to express motion and a great variety of sensations. This may be further illus- trated by a passage from Stevenson, in which the difference between Scotland and England is vividly portrayed : — 168 THE MOTHER TONGUE. We have spoken of the material conditions, nor need mucli more be said of these ; of the land lying everywhere more exposed, of the wind always louder and bleaker, of the black roaring win- ters, of the gloom of high-lying, old stone cities imminent on the windy seaboard ; compared with the level streets, the warm col- oring of the brick, the domestic quaintness of the architecture, among which English children begin to grow up and come to themselves in life. Observe the variety of sensations expressed in this brief passage by the words exposed^ louder^ hleaker^ roaring^ windy^ warm. Read Miss Mitford’s description of ‘‘ The Country in Winter ” (pp. 161-62), and see how many words you can find that indicate motion or sensation. SECTION 133. Study the following extract from Cowper’s “Winter Walk at Noon.” The night was winter in his roughest mood. The morning sharp and clear. But now at noon. Upon the southern side of the slant hills. And where the woods fence off the northern blast. The season smiles, resigning all its rage. And has the warmth of May. The vault is blue Without a cloud, and white without a speck The dazzling splendor of the scene below. Again the harmony comes o’er the vale. And through the trees I view the embattled tow^er Whence all the music. I again perceive The soothing influence of the w^afted strains. And settle in soft musings as I tread The walk, still verdant, under oaks and elms. Whose outspread branches overarch the glade. ADVANTAGES OF DESCRIPTION. 169 The roof, though movable through all its length As the wind sways it, has yet well sufficed, And, intercepting in their silent fall The frequent flakes, has kept a path for me. No noise is here, or none that hinders thought. The redbreast warbles still, but is content With slender notes, and more than half suppressed. Pleased with his solitude, and flitting light From spray to spray, where’er he rests he shakes From many a twig the pendent drops of ice. That tinkle in the withered leaves below. Observe how many things the poet mentions that a painter could not portray, and note how much these contribute to the vividness of the description. Note also the words that Cowper uses in expressing or suggesting these things or ideas. To what classes do the words belong? SECTION 134. ADVANTAGES OF DESCRIPTION. The secret of writing a good description is revealed by our study of the examples in Sections 132 and 133. A good writer is not content to include in his descrip- tion merely such things as would go into a picture. He takes care to introduce objects in motion, particu- larly living creatures. Besides what can be seen, he brings in sounds, bodily feelings, and other matters of sensation. Thus we get the full impression that the scene or object makes upon the writer. A picture appeals primarily to the sight. A descrip- tion may appeal to the other senses as well. 170 THE MOTHER TONGUE. In real life some of the most vivid associations we have are called up by other senses than that of sight. You can test this by a simple experiment. Think of the smell of the moist earth in spring, or of lumber, or of seaweed, or of the queer fishy odor of fresh water, and see if it does not bring vividly before your mind some place where you have been or some experience that you have had. Specific sensations, then, have the power of calling up, in the minds of your readers, scenes, objects, or experiences with which they have been associated in the past. Do not neglect these sensations in your descriptive writing. SECTION 135. Read aloud the following sonnet by Wordsworth.^ UPON WESTMINSTER BRIDGE. Earth has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty : This city now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning ; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky. All bright and glittering in the smokeless air. Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendor, valley, rock, or hill; Ne’er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep ! The river glideth at his own sweet will : Dear God ! the very houses seem asleep ; And all that mighty heart is lying still ! 1 For the structure of a sonnet, see Appendix. DESCRIPTION. 171 Study the description, using the following outline : — 1. What has Wordsworth included in the view from the bridge? 2. Are sounds suggested in the description? 3. Enumerate the details in the description. 4. Study the opening sentence. How does it prepare you to see the picture ? 5. What feeling does the poem excite in you? 6. What does the sonnet show you about the poet ? SECTION 136. Read aloud the following extract from Matthew Arnold’s Dover Beach.” The sea is calm to-night ; The tide is full; the moon lies fair Upon the Straits ; on the French coast the light Gleams, and is gone ; the cliffs of England stand, Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay. Come to the window : sweet is the night air ! Only from the long line of spray Where the ebb meets the moon-blanched sand. Listen ! you hear the grating roar Of pebbles which the waves suck back, and fling, At their return, up the high strand. Begin and cease, and then again begin. With tremulous cadence slow, and bring The eternal note of sadness in. Study the description, following the plan outlined in Section 135. What is the effect of ‘‘ Come to the window ”? What effect has the writer secured by using the imperative verb listen ? What is the time of the description ? What is the point of view of the writer ? 172 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 137. 1. Describe a traveller, overburdened with bags and parcels, arriving at the railway station just too late for his train. 2. The fire alarm sounds in the night. You listen and dis- cover that the fire is near your own house. You rise, dress, and hasten to the scene. Describe what you find there. 3. You have been searching for a suitable place in which to build a summer camp. Describe the site which you finally select. Do not forget that the situation should be pleasant as well as convenient. 4. Visit some manufactory and describe the work which you see there. 5. Study Tennyson’s ‘‘Song of the Brook”; then close your book and describe the scene which the poet describes. SECTION 138. DESCEIPTION OF A PLACE. Most of us use description more frequently in letter- writing than in any other kind of composition. We often wish to give a friend at a distance some idea of our own town or neighborhood ; and, when away from home, we are always eager to let our families know what our new surroundings are like. Thus skill in description is of constant utility in our everyday life. The great Dr. Arnold of Rugby once wrote as follows to one of his old pupils, who was living in Tasmania : — Will you describe the general aspect of the country round Hobart’s Town? To this day I never could meet with a descrip- tion of the common face of the country about New York, or Boston, or Philadelphia, and therefore I have no distinct idea of it. Is your country plain or undulating; are your valleys deep TIME IN DESCRIPTIONS. 173 or shallow, — curving, or with steep sides and flat bottoms? Are your fields large or small, parted I)y hedges or stone walls, with single trees about them, or patches of wood here and there? Are there many scattered houses, and what are they built of, — brick, wood, or stone ? And what are the hills and streams like, — ridges, or with waving summits? with plain sides, or indented with combes ? full of springs or dry ? And what is their geology ? I can better fancy the actors when I have got a lively notion of the scene in which they are acting. This letter sums up very well the things that you would like to know about a place where one of your friends happened to be living. Describe your own neighborhood as if you were writing a letter in reply to Dr. Arnold’s request. SECTION 139. TIME IN DESCRIPTIONS. To make your description vivid, you must often put it on a definite day or even at a particular time of the day. Read the following descriptions with this point in view. And so we began our journey ; sadly, under dripping trees and a leaden sky. The country we had to traverse was the same I had trodden on the last day of my march southwards, but the passing of a month had changed the face of everything. Green dells, where springs welling out of the chalk had made of the leafy bottom a fairies’ home, strewn with mosses, — these were now swamps into which our horses sank to the fetlock. Sunny brows, whence I had viewed the champaign and traced my for- ward path, had become bare, windswept ridges. The beech woods, which had glowed with ruddy light, were naked now; 174 THE MOTHER TO^^GUE. mere black trunks and rigid arms pointing to heaven. An earthy smell filled the air : a hundred paces away a wall of mist closed the view. We plodded on sadly, up hill and down hill ; now fording brooks already stained in the flood water, now crossing barren heaths. — Weyman^ AN AUGUST DAY IN MARSEILLES.^ By Dickens. Thirty years ago, Marseilles lay in the burning sun one day. A blazing sun upon a fierce August day was no greater rarity in southern France then, than at any other time, before or since. Everything in Marseilles, and about Marseilles, had stared at the fervid sky, and been stared at in return, until a staring habit had become universal there. Strangers were stared out of counte- nance by staring white houses, staring white walls, staring white streets, staring tracts of arid road, staring hills from which ver- dure was burnt away. The only things to be seen not fixedly staring and glaring were the vines drooping under their load of grapes. These did occasionally wink a little, as the hot air barely moved their faint leaves. There was no wind to make a ripple on the foul water within the harbor, or on the beautiful sea without. The line of demar- cation between the two colors, black and blue, showed the point which the pure sea would not pass ; but it lay as quiet as the abominable pool, with which it never mixed. Boats without awnings were too hot to touch ; ships blistered at their moorings ; the stones of the quays had not cooled, night or day, for months. Hindoos, Russians, Chinese, Spaniards, Portuguese, Englishmen, Frenchmen, Genoese, Neapolitans, Venetians, Greeks, Turks, descendants from all the builders of Babel, come to trade at Marseilles, sought the shade alike, — taking refuge in any hiding- place from a sea too intensely blue to be looked at, and a sky of purple, set with one great flaming jewel of fire. 1 From “ Under the Red Robe.’’ 2 From “ Little Dorrit.” TIME DESCRIPTIONS. 175 The universal stare made the eyes ache. Towards the distant blue of Italian coast, indeed, it was a little relieved by light clouds of mist, slowly rising from the evaporation of the sea, but it softened nowhere else. Far away the staring roads, deep in dust, stared from the hillside, stared from the hollow, stared from the interminable plain. Far away the dusty vines over- hanging wayside cottages, and the monotonous wayside avenues of parched trees without shade, drooped beneath the stare of earth and sky. So did the horses with drowsy bells, in long files of carts, creeping slowly towards the interior ; so did their recum- bent drivers, when they were awake, which rarely happened ; so did the exhausted laborers in the fields. Everything that lived or grew was oppressed by the glare ; except the lizard, passing swiftly over rough stone walls, and cicala, chirping his dry hot chirp, like a rattle. The very dust was scorched brown, and something quivered in the atmosphere as if the air itself were panting. Blinds, shutters, curtains, awnings, were all closed and drawn to keep out the stare. Grant it but a chink or keyhole, and it shot in like a white-hot arrow. Both of these descriptions are remarkably vivid. Their vividness, you will notice, comes in part from the authors’ care in fixing the time. You learn not merely how the place looks and what impressions it makes, but what its appearance is and what these impressions are at a point of time, which is carefully defined. The importance of fixing the time in descriptions is particu- larly well illustrated in the first passage. Here the whole place seems to change with the season and the weather, and the effect that it produces on your feelings changes as well. The character of your description, then, may depend on the season or the weather in which you depict the scene. Sunlight, clouds, rain, sunrise or sunset, crisp 176 THE MOTHER TQNGUE. air or muggy, calm or high wind — these are influences which affect your feelings strongly and hence modify the impressions which you get of a place or a landscape. They should not be neglected, therefore, if you wish to reproduce those feelings in a description. Notice the effectiveness of the cold night in the fol- lowing description of the chapel from Keats’s “ Eve of Saint Agnes ” : — His prayer he saith, this patient holy man ; Then takes his lamp, and riseth from his knees, And back returneth, meagre, barefoot, wan. Along the chapel aisle by slow degrees : The sculptured dead, on each side, seem to freeze, Imprisoned in black, purgatorial rails : Knights, ladies, praying in dumb oratories. He passeth by ; and his weak spirit fails To think how they may ache in icy hoods and mails. To THE Teacher. — The principle of this section should be further enforced by referring the pupils to descriptions in the pieces of literature which they are studying. They should also be encouraged to find exam- ples for themselves. Compare Dana’s “ Iceberg ” (p. 157) and the extracts from Cowper (p. 168) and Matthew Arnold (p. 171). SECTION 140. After reading the description of Marseilles in August (Section 139), write a description of that city as you imagine it might appear on a cold, drizzly day in March. Note the repetition of stare in the original passage. Do not try to imitate tliis. Such devices are best left to the great writers, who know how to employ them. TIME TX DESCRTPTIOXS. 177 SECTION 141. The following description illustrates the principle set forth in Section 139. The time of year and the weather are carefully indicated. THE VALLEY OF THE FLOSS.^ By George Eliot. A wide plain, where the broadening Floss hurries on between its green banks to the sea, and the loving tide, rushing to meet it, checks its passage with an impetuous embrace. On this mighty tide the black ships, laden with the fresh-scented fir- planks, with rounded sacks of oil-bearing seed, or with the dark glitter of coal, are borne along to the town of St. Ogg's, which shows its aged, fluted red roofs and the broad gables of its wharves between the low, wooded hill and the brink, tingeing the water with a soft purple hue under the transient glance of this February sun. Far away on each hand stretch the rich pastures and the patches of dark earth, made ready for the seed of broad-leaved green crops, or touched already with the tint of the tender-bladed autumn-sown corn. There is a remnant still of the last year’s golden clusters of beehive ricks rising at intervals beyond the hedgerows ; and everywhere the hedgerows are studded with trees : the distant ships seem to be lifting their masts and stretch- ing their red-brown sails close among the branches of the spread- ing ash. Just by the red-roofed town the tributary Ripple flows with a lively current into the Floss. How lovely the little river is, with its dark, changing wavelets ! It seems to me like a liv- ing companion while I wander along the bank and listen to its low, placid voice, as to the voice of one who is deaf and loving. I remember those large, dipping willows. I remember the stone bridge. And this is Dorlcote Mill. 1 From “ The Mill on the Floss.” 178 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 142.1 1. Write a description of the Valley of the Floss (p. 177) as you imagine it would look (1) on a hot day in July ; (2) on a bright clear day in January, with snow on the ground. 2. Describe your own neighborhood on a cloudy day in Febru- ary ; on a calm, clear morning in July. 3. Rewrite the description which you prepared in Section 138, putting in such details of weather, sky, and air as may give your reader a good idea of the place in summer ; in winter. 4. Describe a scene at a county fair in fine weather. 5. Describe the same scene during a sudden shower. 6. Describe a holiday procession in a city on a bright day in early summer. Do not forget the spectators. 7. Describe the same scene during a sudden thunderstorm. 8. Rain in summer. a. Describe the appearance of the country before the rain. h. Indications of the coming shower. c. The shower itself. d. The effect of the rain. 9. Repeat No. 8, with winter for summer and snow for rain. 10. Write a description of a public square in Havana or Manila in the rainy season ; in the dry season. 11. Describe a street in Boston on a dusty day in March, with the east wind blowing. 12. Describe a storm on Lake Michigan. Imagine yourself on the lake in a small sailboat with three companions. Define the time carefully. 13. Describe a storm on the coast of Maine, as in No. 12 ; in Chesapeake Bay ; in the Gulf of Mexico ; on the coast of South- ern California. Be sure to define the time. 14. Describe a storm in the mountains. Fix the place and the time before you begin. 1 It is not intended that all these exercises shall he written at this point. Some of them may be postponed till the pupil has finished Section 151. The teacher will of course use his discretion. COMPARISON IN DESCRIPTION. 179 SECTION 143. COMPARISON IN DESCRIPTION. In describing a place you can often help your reader by giving him a general idea of the ‘‘ lay of the land.” Do not go into overmuch detail, however. Words will not take the place of a map. Comparison with some well-known object will often be of assistance. Thus, a town lying in the bend of a river may be compared to a horseshoe, and different parts of the place may be located by referring them to the toe of the horseshoe, or the left heel, or the right heel, and so on. You will recall a number of similar comparisons that you have made in studying geography. Italy is often compared to a hoot ; Cape Cod to an arm bent at the elbow (hence it is sometimes called ‘‘the right arm of Massachusetts’’); the great southern peninsula of Greece to a mulberry leaf. Any map will suggest similar comparisons for other places. Stevenson’s description of Monterey begins with this simple and graphic figure : — The Bay of Monterey has been compared ... to a bent fishing- hook. Santa Cruz sits exposed at the shank, the mouth of the Salinas river is at the middle of the bend, and Monterey itself is cosily ensconced beside the barb. Thus the ancient capital of California faces across the bay, while the Pacific Ocean, though hidden by low hills and forest, bombards her left flank and rear with never-dying surf. In front of the town, the long line of sea-beach trends north and north-west, and then westward to enclose the bay. Suggest simple comparisons which would help you to describe two or three places with which you are familiar. 180 THE MOTHER TONGUE. To THE Teacher. — Materials for the study of description of places abound in books with which the pupils are familiar. They should be required to search for such material, and to bring specimens to the class for use in both critical (analytic) and constructive work. A free discus- sion, led by the teacher, may profitably follow the reading of a pupil’s selection. In this discussion, however, the class should remember that true criticism points out excellences as well as defects. The following citations will be of assistance: — Chaucer’s “Knight’s Tale,” lines 1109-36 (or Dryden’s “ Palamon and Arcite,” Book ii, lines 524-59); Spenser’s “Faerie Queene,” Book i, Canto i, stanza 34; Gold- smith’s “ Traveller ” and “ Deserted Village ” ; Byron’s “ Childe Harold,” Canto III, stanzas 85-9, 92-3, “ Siege of Corinth,” 11 ; Wordsworth’s “ Mar- garet; or. The Ruined Cottage,” lines 1-69 (pp. 5-7 1), “Prelude,” Book i, lines 18-61 (pp. 69-70), Book xiv, lines 1-129 (pp. 194-7), “Excursion,” Book II, lines 827-81 (pp. 198-200), “Poems on the Naming of Places” (pp. 104-8), etc. ; Shelley’s “ Among the Euganean Hills,” lines 66-141 ; Gray’s “ Letters ” and “ Journal in the Lakes ” (Phelps’s “ Selections from Gray,” pp. 93-125) ; Cowper’s “ Task,” Book i, lines 210-364; Tennyson’s “Princess” (Prologue) and “Enoch Arden”; Irving’s “Sketch Book” and “ Alhambra ”; ^Green’s “Short History of the English People,” Chapter ii. Section 9 (Chateau Gaillard) ; Scott’s “ Ivanhoe ” (Chapters I, III, vii), “Quentin Durward ” (Chapters iii, xxviii), “Pirate” (Chap- ters I, xxviii), “Talisman” (Chapter vii), “Antiquary” (Chkpter vii), “Bride of Lammermoor ” (Chapter xviii). “ Howe’s Masquerade ” in Hawthorne’s “Twice-Told Tales” gives a good description of the old Province House. The author imagines him- self as guided through the building by Mr. Thomas Waite, who points out what is of interest as they go from room to room. Narratives of travel, adventure, and discovery afford a great variety of material. Among these may be mentioned Hakluyt’s “ Voyages,” and the works of Admiral Byron, Dana, Stanley, Kane, Nansen, Lord Dufferin, Mrs. Brassey, Miss Mary Kingsley. See also Parkman’s “ Oregon Trail,” Irving’s “Astoria,” Hawthorne’s “Italian Note-Books,” and Longfellow’s “ Outre-Mer.” Most novels also abound in descriptive passages. The “ special correspondence ” in the better class of newspapers con- tains many good descriptions of places, which may be utilized as specimens and as material for exercises. The pupils will easily perceive the differ- ence between these articles and the more carelessly written columns of the same journals. They may combine their study of such descriptions with their lessons in iihysical and political geography and in history. 1 The page references are to Dowdeii’s “ Poems of Wordsworth ” in the Atheiifeuni Press Series. DESCRIPTION OF PERSONS. 181 SECTION 144. DESCEIPTION OF PEESONTS. Nothing is harder than to describe the form and features of a person accurately, so that he will be recognized by a stranger. This difficulty may be illustrated by a familiar example. Sup- pose the police advertise the description of a criminal of whom they have no photograph. The chances are that several innocent persons will be arrested before the right man is caught. For such a description can do little more than give height and weight, com- plexion, color of hair and eyes, general shape of nose, and so on. The difference between persons consists in much finer points than these. Nearly half the people in the world are of “medium height,” and have straight noses and either blue eyes or black. Even a poor photograph or drawing is more serviceable than such a description. Yet, on the other hand, a written description can do much that a picture cannot. A picture, for example, can give you little idea of how a per- son moves. It tells nothing of his manners, of his speech, of the sound of his voice, of the fashion in which he pronounces his words. Yet your first impression of a new acquaintance depends, in large part, upon just such traits as these. Your liking for him is determined, perhaps, by his agreeable voice or his cordial way of speaking ; often, too, by the charm of his smile or the way in which he looks at you while you are talking to him. Here, then, lie the strength and the opi)ortunity of description as compared with portraiture. In Eichardson’s “Clarissa Harlowe,” the following description is given to the heroine to enable her to recognize a ruffian who is pursuing her. 182 THE MOTHER TONGUE. A sun-burnt, pock-fretten ^ sailor, ill-looking, raw-boned ; his stature about six feet ; a heavy eye, an over-hanging brow, a deck-treading stride in his walk ; a couteau ^ generally by his side ; lips parched from his gums, as if by staring at the sun in hot climates ; a brown coat ; a colored handkerchief about his neck ; an oaken plant ^ in his hand near ^ as long as himself, and pro- portionably thick. If you were to meet such a man, you would recognize him in an instant. Yet notice how little the descrip- tion goes into details with respect to his separate features. First the author gives you a striking impression of the sailor’s general appearance ; then he mentions his height ; then two peculiarities of his face, and his manner of w^alking; then the knife that hangs by his side ; next, a strange expression of his lips; and finally his clothing and the great stick that he always carries. All these details fit together easily and naturally into one complete impression. If there were many more of them, you could hardly grasp the description as a whole. The effect would be scattering and confused. The description of a person, then, must not include too many details. It should not attempt to be exhaustive. Moreover, such a description should not try to por- tray every feature minutely. It may begin by giving the general impression which the person would produce at first sight. It may then reinforce this general impression by mentioning significant details, — as size, coloring, walk, tricks of manner, strongly marked fea- tures, and the like. In any case, the description should be compact, and expressed in vivid words. 1 That is, pock-marked. 2 That is, a knife. 3 That is, a stick or staff. ^ Old style for nearly. CHARACTER IN DESCRIPTION. 183 SECTION 145. CHARACTER IN DESCRIPTION. The description of a person may often contain some hint of his character. Thus, the sailor in Clarissa Harlowe ” (Section 144) was ill-looking ” and had a ‘‘heavy eye.” We can have no doubt that he was a bad fellow. Read the following description of Dinah Morris, the preacher, with this question of character in mind. DINAH MORRIS.i By George Eliot. Dinah walked as simply as if she were going to market, and seemed as unconscious of her outward appearance as a little boy ; there was no blush, no tremulousness, which said, know you think me a pretty woman, too young to preach ” ; no casting up or down of the eyelids, no compression of the lips, no attitude of the arms, that said, But you must think of me as a saint.” She held no book in her ungloved hands, but let them hang down lightly crossed before her, as she stood and turned her gray eyes on the people. There was no keenness in the eyes ; they seemed rather to be shedding love than making observations ; they had the liquid look that tells that the mind is full of what it has to give out, rather than impressed by external objects. She stood with her left hand towards the descending sun ; and leafy boughs screened her from its rays ; but in this sober light the delicate coloring of her face seemed to gather a calm vividness, like flowers at evening. It was a small oval face, of a uniform transparent whiteness, with an egg-like line of cheek and chin, a full but Arm mouth, a delicate nostril, and a low perpendicular brow, surmounted by a 1 From “ Adam Bede.” 184 thp: mother tongue. rising arch of parting, between smooth locks of pale reddish hair. The hair was drawn straight back behind the ears, and covered, except for an inch or two above the brow, by a net Quaker cap. The eyebrows, of the same color as the hair, were perfectly hori- zontal and firmly penciled ; the eyelashes, though no darker, were long and abundant ; nothing was left blurred or unfinished. It was one of those faces that make one think of white flowers with light touches of color on their pure petals. The eyes had no peculiar beauty beyond that of expression ; they looked so simple, so candid, so gravely loving, that no accusing scowl, no light sneer, could help melting away before their glance. Joshua Rann gave a long cough, as if he were clearing his throat in order to come to a new understanding with himself ; Chad Cranage lifted up his leather skull-cap and scratched his head ; and Wiry Ben wondered how Seth had the pluck to think of courting her. Here the last lines in the second* paragraph, which interpret Dinah’s character, go a long way to fix your impression of her. So Dickens ends his description of Mr. Jingle, in the ‘‘Pickwick Papers,” with the sen- tence, — His face was thin and haggard; but an indescribable air of jaunty impudence and perfect self-possession pervaded the whole man. In fact, many of the commonest words and phrases of description imply or suggest character : as, — hard- featured, melancholy air^ stolid-looking^ firm chin, smiling eyes. Such words may make a description far more effective than a picture ; for they give the reader a deeper understanding of the person described. Note little traits, then, — a look, a movement, an expression, — which betray character and make that individual person different from every one else. DESCRIPTION OF PERSONS. 185 To THE Teacher. — Examples of personal description are plentiful, and the pupils should be able to find them in abundance in the literature which they are studying or elsewhere. The following references will be of assistance : — Chaucer's “ Prologue to the Canterbury Tales ” ; Dryden's “ Character of a Good Parson ” (from Chaucer) ; Dryden’s “ Palamon and Arcite,” Book iii, lines 38-89; Thomson’s “ Castle of Indolence,” Canto i, stanzas 57-68; Goldsmith’s “Deserted Village,” lines 139-192; Scott’s “Ivanhoe” (for example. Chapters ii and xxii), “Kenilworth” (Chapters I, xxvi), “Quentin Durward ” (Chapter ii), and “The Talisman” (Chap- ters I, xvii) ; Longfellow’s “Tales of a Wayside Inn,” “Evangeline,” and “ Courtship of Miles Standish ” ; the Sir Roger de Coverley papers in “The Spectator”; Mrs. Gaskell’s “ Cranford ” ; Green’s “Short History of the English People,” Chapter vi. Section 4 (Henry VIII), Chapter vii. Section 3 (Queen Elizabeth) ; Hawthorne’s “ House of the Seven Gables,” “ Twice-Told Tales,” “ Wonder Book,” and “ Tanglewood Tales”; Mil- ton’s “Paradise Lost,” Book ii; Irving’s “Sketch Book,” “Tales of a Traveller,” and “ Bracebridge Hall”; Kipling’s “Kim,” Chapter i, p. 6 (description of the lama) ; the close of Stevenson’s essay on Villon ; the description of the uncle in Stevenson’s “ Merry Men,” Chapter ii ; Words- worth’s “Margaret” (lines 26 ff., p. 6i), “ Simon Lee ” (pp. 27-28), “The Old Cumberland Beggar” (pp. 38-39), “Beggars” (pp. 132-3), “The Solitary Reaper” (pp. 178-9), “ She was a Phantom of Delight” (p. 184), “ Characteristics of a Child ” (pp. 237-8). There is much vivid description of persons in Mr. Austin Dobson’s “Eighteenth Century Vignettes”: see, for instance, the description of Horace Walpole in “A Day at Strawberry Hill”; that of Swift writing in bed, in the essay on “The Journal to Stella” ; that of Richardson and his circle in “Richardson at Home.” The last-mentioned example is the description of a picture. The same essay describes a portrait of Richardson. An instructive series of descriptions of portraits may be found in Steven- son’s “Some Portraits by Raeburn” (No. 8 in his “Virginibus Pueris- que”). A graphic and amusing description of an old engraving is Mr. Jebb’s account of the frontispiece to “ Phalaris ” (see his “ Bentley ” in the “ English Men of Letters ”). The first chapter of Emily Bronte’s “Wuthering Heights” is a good example of description (both personal and local) in the form of narrative intermingled with dialogue. George Borrow’s account of his meeting with the poacher and his “ fairy dog” in “Lavengro” (Chapter xii) combines, in a masterly way and in brief space, action, conversation, personal description, and description of S’enery. 1 The page references are to Dowden’s “ Poems of AVordsworth ” in tlie Athenaeum Press Series. 186 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 146. 1. Study Franklin’s description of himself (pp. 8-9). Note the details that help to produce the desired impression on the imagination of the reader. 2. Bring a photograph of some one to the class, and try to write a description that will make the other pupils recognize it. Then show them the photograph and see if they would recognize it from your description. 3. Write a description of a person from a photograph or other picture. Compare your description with those written by the other pupils. 4. Copy a description of a person, as found in some story that you have read. Observe the items included in the description. Do they refer to appearance or character? 5. Read the description of Miss Trotwood in David Cop- perfield ” ; of Uriah Heep ; of Traddles. Comment upon the descriptions. 6. Read ‘‘ The Last Leaf,” by Holmes. Observe and report the personal description in the poem. 7. Write a description of a lost child, for insertion in a local newspaper. 8. Study the description of Scrooge in Dickens’s Christmas Carol.” Indicate (1) the details which bring out his character; (2) those which indicate appearance only and which might have been included in a picture ; (3) those which indicate habit or action. 9. Make a list of ten descriptive words which suggest or interpret character. 10. Bring to the class three good descriptions of persons. Pick out (1) the words or phrases that describe features; (2) those that describe general appearance, manners, and movements; (3) those that interpret or express character. Omit (1) and read the description aloud. Do the same with (2) and (3). Note the loss in each case. A DESCRIPTION IS NOT AN INVENTORY. 187 SECTION 147. A DESCRIPTION IS NOT AN INVENTORY. A mere list of disconnected facts cannot properly be called a description. Turn to Dickens’s description of ‘‘The Old Boat” (p. 159). Make a list of the several details there men- tioned. Read your list aloud. It is merely confusing, you observe. It gives you no picture of the boat and its contents. Now read the description itself. Here are the same details that you included in your list. Yet they make a perfect picture of the cosey interior of the old vessel. One reason for the difference is that in the description the separate facts and ideas are so grouped that they give you a number of clear impressions, and these are not too numerous for the mind to retain. Further, there is variety in expression. Your list was, of course, utterly monotonous ; in “ The Old Boat,” on the con- trary, the sentences are skilfully varied. The importance of variety is further illustrated by George Eliot’s description of Dinah Morris (pp. 183-4). This contains many separate details, and it would be easy to reduce them to a list. Yet they are so well grouped, and are expressed in a style so agreeably varied, that our interest never flags. When we have read the passage, we find that we have a vivid and consistent idea of Dinah’s appearance and character, in which all the details are wrought into a single impression. It is this skill in grouping and in blending details that distinguishes a description from an inventory. 188 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 148. Study the following descriptions, observing the numer- ous details and the significance of each. 1. People this street, so ornamented [that is, with innumerable signs] with crowds of swinging chairmen, with servants bawling to clear the way, with Mr. Dean in his cassock, his lacquey march- ing before him ; or Mrs. Dinah in her sack, tripping to chapel, her foot-boy carrying her ladyship’s great prayer-book ; with itinerant tradesmen, singing their hundred cries (I remember forty years ago, as boy in London city, a score of cheery, familiar cries that are silent now). Fancy the beaux thronging to the chocolate-houses, tapping their snuff-boxes as they issue thence, their periwigs appearing over the red curtains. Fancy Sacharissa, beckoning and smiling from the upper windows, and a crowd of soldiers brawling and bustling at the door — gentlemen of the Life Guards, clad in scarlet, with blue facings, and laced with gold at the seams ; gentlemen of the Horse Grenadiers, in their caps of sky-blue cloth, with the garter embroidered on the front in gold and silver; men of the Halberdiers, in their long red coats, as bluff Harry left them, with their ruff and velvet caps. — Thackeray. 2. The lofty houses; the stately, though narrow and gloomy, streets, the splendid display of the richest goods and most gor- geous armor in the warehouses and shops around; the walks crowded by busy citizens of every description, passing and repass- ing with faces of careful importance or eager bustle ; the huge wains, which transported to and fro the subject of export and import, the former consisting of broadcloths and serge, arms of all kinds, nails and iron-work, while the latter comprehended every article of use or luxury intended either for the consumption of an opulent city or received in barter and destined to be trans- ported elsewhere — all these objects combined to form an engross- ing picture of wealth, bustle and splendor, to which Quentin had been hitherto a stranger. — Scott. DESCKIPTION IN STORIP:8. 189 111 the first passage, there are several sentences, all of them filled with action. The whole makes a lively picture of London in the time of George I. In the second passage an enumeration of different objects is so managed, in the compass of one long sen- tence, as to convey a vivid impression of prosperous activity. Make a list of the details mentioned in these passages, and compare the monotony of your inventory with the liveliness of the descriptions tliemselves. This observa- tion will bring out clearly the lesson that a description is not an enumeration. SECTION 149. DESCRIPTION^ IN^ STORIES. Almost every story needs some description of the places in which the incidents occur and of the persons who take part in them. Such descriptions should be brief. Some stories — as, for example, “ Rumpelstiltskin ” (p. 112) — get along very well with no description to speak of, and we all know from experience how often long descriptions in a story are skipped. The description should include movements and sounds, as well as what is seen. Note how much is contained in the following stanza from Coleridge’s “ Rime of the Ancient Mariner ” : — It ceased; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, — A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the quiet woods all night Singeth a quiet tune. 190 THE MOTHER TONGUE. Kipling once described a bull-dog following a carriage as ‘‘ rolling in his run, and smiling as a bull-dog will ; and Gold- smith, describing a scene at night, wrote of a ‘‘bark at hollow distance.” The description in a story should, so far as possible, be combined with the action, just as, in real life, we note the appearance of persons and objects while we are doing something ourselves. Thus Sir George Grey writes, in his narrative of explorations in Australia: — In the afternoon we travelled about three miles in a south-by- east direction, and then came to the bed of a small stream, which ran from east to west, but was now merely a chain of pools. Across the bed, where we passed it, was a native weir. Our route during the whole evening lay over hills of a nature similar to those toe passed yesterday. Here the movement of the story is not interrupted. What description is necessary is mingled so naturally and effectively with the action that the two can hardly be distinguished. In some stories, especially those of out-of-door life, our chief interest may be in places and animals and weather. In this case, the space given to descrip- tion will naturally be larger. Such stories, however, may easily become descriptions unless the action clearly preponderates. To THE Teacher. — The dilference between stories in which the description is an important element and those in which it fairly dominates may be made clear by a consideration of such works as Stevenson’s “Travels with a Donkey,” Thoreau’s “Walden” and “ Maine Woods,” and the writings of Mr. John Burroughs and Mr. Bradford Torrey. ACTION IN DESCRIPTION. 191 SECTION 150. ACTION IN DESCRIPTION. One of the advantages which a description has over a picture consists in its power to express action. In real life we seldom sit still as we note one detail of a scene after another. We move about, and observe the details in that way. This fact suggests a good method of writing the introduction in a descriptive essay, and also an easy means of passing from one detail or phase of the subject to the next. Dana in his description of an iceberg (p. 157) tells how the cook <‘put his head down the scuttle and told us to come on deck and see the finest sight that we had ever seen ” ; and toward the end he remarks that the berg seemed to be drifting slowly toward the north, so that we kept away and avoided it.’’ So in observing a person, we watch his movements, and we may converse with him and note the tone of his voice or the changing expression of his face. George Eliot describes Dinah Morris (p. 183) as she walks out to address the people ; presently she remarks that she stood with her left hand toward the descending sun; and leafy boughs screened her from its rays ” ; and she closes by noting what some of the spectators did as they watched the speaker (p. 184). Such little actions keep the description from being a mere inventory or catalogue of Dinah’s features. If a description, then, is to represent real life, it should include touches of movement and action. Some descriptions have so much action that they may almost be called stories, and we have seen that almost all stories need some description. 192 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 151. THE CENTRAL POINT IN A DESCRIPTION. Finally, a description should lay emphasis on some one object or on a single impression, just as a picture centres in or around a definite point. So, if you are describing a place, your attention may centre on some particular feature of the landscape, — as, a certain house, or a great hill, or a river. Again, you may fix your mind mainly on the general effect of freshness and young green in the spring, or of warm luxuriance in summer. Or perhaps you will let the place serve merely as a background for the people who live in it. In this case, you will consider the place chiefly as it affects the inhabitants, their tastes, feelings, and manner of life. Similarly, in describing a person, you should make some char- acteristic stand out vividly, just as in real life our impressions would focus on some particular trait or individual expression. In each instance, the required emphasis will be pro- duced by the selection of a different set of details. It is impossible to note every detail of any scene. You must omit the larger part of them. Selection, then, is unavoidable. In making the selection, keep in mind the definite point or effect which the description is to produce. Thus, Dana emphasizes the flashing life and brilliancy of the iceberg (p, 158) ; Dickens, the cosiness and comfort of the Old Boat (p. 160); George Eliot, the unworldly loveliness of Dinah Morris (p. 183). In “Quentin Durward ” (Chapter v), Lesly’s peculiar scar is emphasized ; and in the description of De la Marck (Chapter xxii) the central effect is his strange resemblance to a wild boar. CENTRAL POINT IN A DESCRIPTION. 193 It is because of this skilful empliasis on a single effect that all these descriptions leave so clear and strong an impression. A description, then, should have a distinct effect in view, just as a short story should lead up to a single point (see p. 134). Its excellence will depend largely on the skill with which the details are selected and mar- shalled in composition. A good description should make as clear and sharply defined an impression as a good picture. Finally, whatever you select as the point or chief effect of your description must be your own choice, springing out of your own interests and experience. Every good description shows us not the scene merely, but the scene as it impresses the writer. If you visit a new place with your father, you cannot look at it with his eyes. His knowledge of men and affairs will make him see a thousand things that escape your notice, — signs of a peculiar industry, for example, or the traits of an old-established population, or the rawness of a new settlement. On the other hand, he will neglect many things that strike your eye at once, — the looks and dress of the boys and girls, picturesque shops, and the liveliness or quiet of the streets. Though you walk through the city side by side, you will each write home a different description of it. Always describe your own impressions. If you try to imitate the ideas of another, the result will pretty surely be either affected or fiat, and not improbably both. Keep your eyes and ears open ; note what strikes your own attention, whether in persons or in places ; and do your best to reproduce it in a simple and vivid style. 194 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 152. EXERCISES IN DESCRIPTION. 1. Study the following outlines; then rewrite each description from memory, using the outline as a guide. Before writing, make notes of the subordinate details in each paragraph. AN ICEBERG. [See pp. 157-8.] a. Introduction. — The damp chilly air and falling tem- perature indicate ice near us. The cook announces the fine sight. h. The iceberg. — (1) Its appearance, ^ — shape, contour, size; the surrounding water. (2) -Sublimity of the sight, — size of the berg ; motion ; dashing waves ; thundering sound ; our fear of its nearer approach. c. The night ; disappearance of the iceberg. THE OLD BOAT. [See pp. 159-60.] a. The way to the house. h. The old boat, from without. c. The old boat, from within. DINAH MORRIS. [See pp. 183-4.] a. Dinah’s manner and general appearance as she entered, indicating simplicity, unconsciousness, absence of affectation. h. Her attitude toward those about her. c. Her face (picture, impression). (1. Effect upon those who saw her. EXERCISES IN DESCRIPTION. 195 2. Make an outline plan of some short description of a place. Prepare a subject for each paragraph. Enumerate the details in each. Then rewrite the description from your outline. 3. Study Miss Mitford’s description of The Country in Winter ’’ (p. 161). Note how she contrives to take the reader with her from place to place, so that he seems to see the land- scape with his own eyes rather than the writer’s. By what means does she secure this effect ? Write the description in the first person singular, substituting the past tense for the present, and note the effect. 4. Miss Mitford is describing an English scene. Does the description show this ? How does the country which Miss Mitford describes differ from your neighborhood? What phrases do you find in the description which do not occur in your own colloquial English? Study the comparisons in the description. Do they add to its beauty and effectiveness ? What characteristics of the writer does the description reveal ? 5. Take a walk to the nearest bit of country. Then write a description of your walk, after the manner of Miss Mitford. Imagine that you have a child with you, to whom you speak of the things which attract your attention and interest you. 6. Study An August Day in Marseilles” (p. 174). What is the effect of the introductory sentence ? Try to express in a fitting sentence or phrase the substance of the next paragraph. By what device does the author make you realize the intensity of the heat on this day ? What does the next paragraph add to the description ? How is the effect produced ? Show how the next paragraph extends the view, intensifies the feeling of heat, and introduces specific details. Would the last sentence of this paragraph have been equally effective at the beginning ? Give your reasons. toint out a number of words or phrases which impart vivid- ness to the description. 196 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 7. Describe a scene which you have observed in a street car. 8. Write a description of a field or pasture with which you are familiar. Imagine that you are standing by the pasture bars and looking at the scene which you describe. Do not change your point of view during the description. 9. Describe a character in some book you have read recently. Include quotations which throw light upon the character described. 10. Write an account of a day spent in taking care of a fretful and mischievous child. In the course of your story, describe the child and outline his character. 11. “What sort of person is your friend Brown?” asks your neighbor. Reply by telling an incident which indicates the character of your friend. 12. Select from “ The Lady of the Lake ” some good description of a place or scene. Read the description to the class, pointing out the features which illustrate the principles of descriptive writing. 13. Describe a picture which you have at home. (1) Tell whether it is an oil painting, a water color, or a photograph or other reproduction ; (2) tell its name ; (3) state the general character of the picture, unless its name has indicated this. (This serves as an introduction to your description.) Choose what seems to you the central or most important thing in the picture. Present that first to your hearers, and describe the other objects which appear in the picture, bringing them into relation to the central object. For example : — “A small water color hangs on the wall in my study. It represents a red rock rising out of the sea. The waves are breaking in white spray against it. The sea is gray-green, softened by the gray sky above. Behind the rock appear the gray sails of a fishing-boat, and far away, hardly discernible against the sky, is the faint outline of a distant ship.” 14. Describe some house as clearly as you can. Read your description to the class, asking the pupils to draw the house from your description. Compare the drawings, and see whether they represent what you actually described. EXERCISES IN DESCRIPTION. 197 15. Cut a picture from some magazine and bring it to the class with a written description of what it represents. In the class, exchange with another pupil and describe the picture which you have received in exchange. Compare your first description with that written by the pupil who receives your picture. Criti- cise both descriptions in the comparison. (In the same way, your second description will be compared with that of the pupil who had first described the picture.) After criticism, these descriptions may be read to the class and a vote may be taken upon their relative merits. This last part of the exercise will be more interesting if the picture is first seen by every member of the class. ^ 16. Write a description, using the following subject and plan : — My grandfather’s house, (1) from without, — description of the surroundings and the house itself; (2) from within, — the rooms with their furnishings, and the inmates. 17. You are spending a year on a farm. Describe a day’s work in summer, and in winter. 18. Describe the apple-woman at the corner. 19. Write an account of a day in the hay field. Include a description of the field when the men are at work. 20. Observe some vacant lot. Note its situation, its surround- ings ; the shrubs, flowers, weeds, or accumulated deposits ; the children at play. Write a composition upon “ The Geography of a Vacant Lot,” embodying your observations. 21. Peggy’s first concert. Peggy is a country girl who is making her first visit to the city. With her aunt and uncle she goes to a fine concert. Describe the evening. • 1 If the pupils are studying drawing, they will be able to describe a picture in the light of that study. The following pictures are suggested for description, it others are not available: — Stratford-on-Avon; Anne Hathaway’s Cottage; The Bridge of Sighs; Home from the Fair, by Rosa Bonheur; The Huguenot Lovers, by Millais; The Angelas, by Millet; The Lark, by Jules Breton. Every pupil will be able to add familiar examples. 198 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 22. Imagine yourself as living in Louisiana. You visit a friend in New England at Christmas. Write to your friends at home, describing your visit. 23. Reverse the conditions in the preceding exercise, and write from New Orleans. 24. After writing the following exercises, criticise your work. In particular, observe whether you have maintained the speaker’s point of view. Do not introduce into your description or narra- tion anything which could not have been seen by the speaker. Include action or movement in your description. A hungry newsboy stands in front of a restaurant, looking in at the meats and pastry displayed in the window, at the coun- ters heaped with food, and the tables surrounded by persons eating dinner. a. Describe the scene in the newsboy’s words, using the first person and the present tense. h. A benevolent woman, standing within and holding her own boy by the hand, looks out, sees the newsboy, recog- nizes his need, invites him in, provides him with a good dinner, and leaves him enjoying it. Tell the story as she recited it to her children in the evening, describ- ing the newsboy, and expressing her own feeling. c. Tell the story as a friend of the woman’s, looking on, might have told it afterward. Incidentally, describe the newsboy’s friend. A fine example of a description in which the author imagines himself as looking down on a place is Stevenson’s elaborate “panorama” of Edinburgh and its surroundings as seen from the Calton Hill (“ Notes on Edinburgh,” chapter viii). The author first describes the view on a clear day in summer, with the east wind blowing; then he changes the time to a winter night. Compare the view from the summit of Kirk Yetton in the Pentland Hills, at the end of the same work. The teacher might well read one or both of these passages to the class, with com- ments, pointing out how they exemplify most of the principles of descrip- tion set forth in the present book. There could be no better lecture in review of the whole subject. A sea-view from aloft may be studied in Mr. F. T. Bullen’s “In the Crow’s Nest” (in “Idylls of the Sea”). EXPLANATION. 199 SECTION 153. EXPLANATION. Sections 153-6 contain specimens of explanation. The Smudge ” is from an entertaining book of out-of- door life. Grey’s ‘‘Kangaroo Hunt” adopts the narra- tive form and is full of action. Lubbock’s “ Fertilization of Plants” and Professor Goss’s “Locomotive” are some- what more technical, and illustrate the use of diagrams. THE SMUDGE. 1 By Henry Van Dyke. But enough of the cooking-fire. Let us turn now to the sub- ject of the smudge, known in Lower Canada as la houcana. The smudge owes its existence to the pungent mosquito, the sanguinary black-fiy, and the peppery midge, — le maringouin, la moustique, et le hrulot. To what it owes its English name I do not know ; but its French name means simply a thick, nauseating, intolerable smoke. The smudge is called into being for the express purpose of creating a smoke of this kind, which is as disagreeable to the mosquito, and black-fiy, and the midge as it is to the man whom they are devouring. But the man survives the smoke, while the insects succumb to it, being destroyed or driven away. Therefore the smudge, dark and bitter in itself, frequently becomes, like adversity, sweet in its uses. It must be regarded as a form of fire with which man has made friends under the pressure of a cruel necessity. It would seem as if it ought to be the simplest affair in the world to light up a smudge. And so it is — if you are not trying. An attempt to produce almost any other kind of fire will bring forth smoke abundantly. But when you deliberately undertake 1 From “ Fisherman’s Luck ” (by permission of Charles Scribner’s Sons). 200 THE MOTHER TONGUE. to create a smudge, flames break from the wettest timber, and green moss blazes with a furious heat. You hastily gather hand- fuls of seemingly incombustible material and throw it on the fire, but the conflagration increases. Grass and green leaves hesitate for an instant and then flash up like tinder. The more you put on, the more your smudge rebels against its proper task of smudging. It makes a pleasant warmth, to encourage the black- flies and bright light to attract and cheer the mosquitoes. Your effort is a brilliant failure. The proper way to make a smudge is this. Begin with a very little, lowly Are. Let it be bright but not ambitious. Don’t try to make a smoke yet. Then gather a good supply of stuff which seems likely to sup- press fire without smothering it. Moss of a certain kind will do, but not the soft, feathery moss that grows so deep among the spruce-trees. Half-decayed wood is good ; spongy, moist, unpleas- ant stuff, a vegetable wet blanket. The bark of dead evergreen trees, hemlock, spruce, or balsam, is better still. Gather a plen- tiful store of it. But don’t try to make a smoke yet. Let your fire burn a while longer ; cheer it up a little. Get some clear, resolute, unquenchable coals aglow in the heart of it. Don’t try to make a smoke yet. Now pile on your smouldering fuel. Fan it with your hat. Kneel down and blow it, and in ten minutes you will have a smoke that will make you wish you had never been born. That is the proper way to make a smudge. But the easiest way is to ask your guide to make it for you. SECTION 154. The following explanation of the Australian method of hunting the kangaroo is from Sir George Grey’s ‘^Travels in Western and Northwestern Australia.” It is particularly instructive for its vividness and for the action which it embodies. EXPLANATION. 201 AUSTRALIAN KANGAROO HUNT. The moment an Australian savage commences his day’s hunt- ing, his whole manner and appearance undergo a wondrous change. His eyes, before heavy and listless, brighten up, and are never for a moment fixed upon one object ; his gait and movements, which were indolent and slow, become quick and restless, yet noiseless ; he moves along with a rapid stealthy pace, his glance roving from side to side in a vigilant uneasy manner, arising from his eager- ness to detect signs of game, and his fears of hidden foes. The earth, the water, the trees, the skies, each are in turn subjected to a rigid scrutiny, and from the most insignificant circumstances he deduces omens. His head is held erect, and his progress is uncertain. In a moment his pace is checked ; he stands in precisely the position of motion as if suddenly transfixed. Nothing about him stirs but his eyes; they glance uneasily from side to side, whilst the head and every muscle seem immovable ; but the white eyeballs may be seen in rapid motion, whilst all his faculties are concentrated, and his whole soul is absorbed in the senses of sight and hearing. His wives, who are at some distance behind him, the moment they see him assume this attitude, fall to the ground as if they had been shot; their children cower by them, and their little faces express an earnestness and anxiousness which is far beyond their years. At length a suppressed whistle is given by one of the women, which denotes that she sees a kangaroo near her husband — all is again silence, and quietude ; and an unprac- tised European would ride within a few yards of the group, and not perceive a living thing. Looking about a hundred yards to the right of the native, you will see a kangaroo erect upon its hind legs, and supported by its tail. It is reared to its utmost height, so that its head is between five and six feet above the ground. Its short fore paws hang by its side ; its ears are pointed ; it is listening as carefully as the native, and you see a little head appearing out from its pouch, to enquire what has alarmed its mother. But the native moves not ; you cannot tell whether it is a human being or the charred trunk 202 THE MOTHER TONGUE. of a burnt tree which is before you, and for several minutes the whole group preserve their relative position. At length the kan- garoo becomes reassured, drops upon its fore paws, gives an awk- ward leap or two, and goes on feeding, — the little inhabitant of its pouch stretching its head farther out, tasting the grass its mother is eating, and evidently debating whether or not it is safe to venture out of its resting place. Meantime the native moves not until the kangaroo, having two or three times resumed the attitude of listening, and having like a monkey scratched its side with its fore paw, at length once more abandons itself in perfect security to its feed, and playfully smells and rubs its little one. Now the watchful savage, keeping his body unmoved, fixes the spear first in the throwing-stick, and then raises his arms in the attitude of throwing, from which they are never again moved until the kangaroo dies or runs away. His spear being properly secured, he advances slowly and stealth- ily towards his prey, no part moving but his legs. Whenever the kangaroo looks round, he stands motionless in the position he is in when it first raises its head, until the animal, again assured of its safety, gives a skip or two and goes on feeding. Again the native advances, and this scene is repeated many times, until the whistling spear penetrates the devoted animal. Then the wood rings with shouts ; women and children all join pell-mell in the chase. The kangaroo, weak from loss of blood, and embarrassed by the long spear which catches in the brush-wood as it flies, at length turns on its pursuers, and, to secure its rear, places its back Against a tree, preparing at the same time to rend open the breast and entrails of its pursuer, by seizing him in its fore paws, and kicking with its hind legs and claws ; but the wily native keeps clear of so murderous an embrace, and from the distance of a few yards throws spears into its breast, until the exhausted animal falls, and is then soon despatched ; when, with the assist- ance of his wives, he takes its fore legs over his left shoulder, and totters with his burden to some convenient resting place, where they can enjoy their meal. EXPLANATIO^Sr. 203 SECTION 155. THE FERTILIZATION OF PLANTS.i By Sm John Lubbock. A regular flower, such, for instance, as a geranium or a pink, consists of four or more whorls of leaves, more or less modifled : the lowest whorl is the calyx, and the separate leaves of which it is composed, which however are sometimes united into a tube, are called sepals ; (2) a second whorl, the coi'olla, consisting of colored leaves called petals, which, however, like those of the calyx, are often united into a tube ; (o) of one or more stamens, consisting of a stalk or filament, and a head or anther, in which the pollen is produced ; and (4) a pistil, which is situated in the centre of the flower, and at the base of which is the ovary, containing one or more seeds. Almost all large flowers are brightly colored, many produce honey, and many are sweet-scented. What, then, is the use and purpose of this complex organization? It is, I think, well established that the main object of the color, scent, and honey of flowers is to attract insects, which are of use to the plant in carrying the pollen from flower to flower. In many species the pollen is, and no doubt it originally was in all, carried by the air. In these cases the chance against any given grain of pollen reaching the pistil of another flower of the same species is of course very great, and the quantity of pollen required is therefore immense. In species where the pollen is wind-borne, as in most of our trees — firs, oaks, beech, ash, elm, etc., and many herbaceous plants, the flowers are as a rule small and inconspicuous, greenish, and without either scent or honey. Moreover, they generally flower early, so that the pollen may not be intercepted by the leaves, but may have a better chance of reaching another flower. And they produce an immense quantity of pollen, as otherwise 1 From “ The Beauties of Nature.” Copyright, 1892, by Macmillan & Co. 204 THE MOTHER TOIS^GUE. there Avould be little chance that any Avould reach the female flower. Every one must have noticed the clouds of pollen pro- duced by the Scotch flr. When, on the contrary, the pollen is carried by insects, the quantity necessary is greatly reduced. Still it has been calculated that a peony flower produces between 3,000,000 and 4,000,000 pollen grains ; in the dandelion, which is more specialized, the number is reduced to about 250,000 ; while in such a flower as the dead-nettle it is still smaller. The honey attracts the insects ; while the scent and color help them to find the flowers, the scent being especially useful at night, which is perhaps the reason why evening flowers are so sweet. It is to insects, then, that flowers owe their beauty, scent, and sweetness. Just as gardeners, by continual selection, have added so much to the beauty of our gardens, so to the unconscious action of insects is due the beauty, scent, and sweetness of the flowers of our woods and fields. Let us now apply these views to a few common flowers. Take, for instance, the white dead-nettle. The corolla of this beautiful and familiar flower consists of a narrow tube, somewhat expanded at the upper end (Fig. 1), where the lower lobe forms a platform, on each side of which is a small projecting tooth (Fig. 2, m). The upper portion of the corolla is an arched hood (ce), under which lie four anthers (a «), in pairs, while between them, and projecting somewhat down- wards, is the pointed pistil (.s-^) ; the tube at the lower part con- tains honey, and above the honey is a row of hairs running round the tube. Xow, why has the flower this peculiar form ? What regulates the length of the tube ? What is the use of the arch ? What lesson do the little teeth teach us ? What advantage is the honey to the flower? Of what use is the fringe of hairs? Why does the stigma project beyond the anthers? Why is the corolla white, while the rest of the plant is green? The honey of course serves to attract the humble-bees by which the flower is fertilized, and to which it is especially adapted ; the EXPLANATION. 205 white color makes the flower more conspicuous; the lower lip forms the stage on which the bees may alight ; the length of the tube is adapted to that of their proboscis ; its narrowness and the fringe of fine hairs exclude small insects which might rob the flower of its honey without performing, any service in return; the arched upper lip protects the stamens and pistil, and pre- vents rain-drops from chok- ing up the tube and washing away the honey. The little teeth are, I believe, of no use to the flower in its present condition ; they are the last relics of lobes once much larger, and still remaining so in some allied species, but which in the dead- nettle, being no longer of any use, are gradually disappearing. The height of the arch has reference to the size of the bee, being just so much above the alighting stage that the bee, while sucking the honey, rubs its back against the hood and thus comes in contact first with the stigma and then with the anthers, the pollen-grains from which adhere to the hairs on the bee’s back, and are thus carried oif to the next flower which the bee visits, when some of them are then licked off by the viscid tip of the stigma. In the salvias, the common blue salvia of our gardens, for instance, — a plant allied to the dead-nettle, — the flower (Fig. 3) is constructed on the same plan, but the arch is much larger, so that the back of the bee does not nearly reach it. The stamens, however, have undergone a remarkable modification. Two of them have 206 THE MOTHEK TONGUE. become small and functionless. In the other two the anthers or cells producing the pollen, which in most flowers form together a round knob or head at the top of the stamen, are separated by a long arm, which plays on the top of the stamen as on a hinge. Of these two arms one hangs down into the tube, closing the passage, while the other lies under the arched upper lip. When the bee pushes its proboscis down the tube (Fig. 5) it presses the lower arm to one side, and the upper arm consequently descends. Fig. 4. Fig. 5. tapping the bee on the back, and dusting it with pollen. When the flower is a little older the pistil (Fig. 3, jo) has elongated so that the stigma (Fig. 4, st) touches the back of the bee and carries oft some of the pollen. This sounds a little complicated, but is clear enough if we take a twig or stalk of grass and push it down the tube, when one arm of each of the two larger stamens will at once make its appearance. It is one of the most beautiful pieces of plant mechanism which I know. In studying this exposition of ‘‘The Fertilization of Plants,” observe the usefulness of the figures. These show us the structure of the flower at a glance, and thus enable us to understand the action of the several parts. Such diagrams or sketches are indispensable in explaining scientific and mechanical subjects. EXPLANATION. 207 SECTION 156. THE LOCOMOTIVE.! By W. F. M. Goss. The boiler and engine of a locomotive are similar in their general character to the boiler and engine of a stationary power-^ plant. Each exists for the purpose of converting into work the potential energy of fuel. There are differences in the details of mechanism, and in the conditions under which work is performed, but the principles underlying action are the same. As compared with the locomotive, the stationary plant has an advantage in being fixed in its position. It may be so arranged that all its parts are accessible to attendants, who in doing their work may pass freely from one element to another, and any detail which is better when made large can be given such dimensions as will ensure its efficient and otherwise satisfactory performance. In many cases there are no limiting dimensions ; the plant may be built as long and as wide and as high as may be desired. It is pos- sible, therefore, so to construct the engines, boilers, and accessory apparatus of a stationary plant, as to secure any desired degree of efficiency, within limits which are prescribed by the state of the art. If the pulsating sound of escaping steam is objectionable, it may be entirely eliminated by the application of a suitable exhaust- head or muffler. If the presence of a cloud of exhaust-steam is annoying, it may be entirely suppressed by the use of a condenser. If smoke emerging from the top of the stack becomes a nuisance, it may be made to disappear by the use of down-draft furnaces, or by the application of some other form of so-called smoke- consumer. If economy in the use of fuel is an important con- sideration, small and overworked boilers may give way to others which provide a more liberal allowance of heating-surface. The degree of perfection attained in any or all of these particulars is ! Slightly simplified (by permission) from “ Locomotive Sparks.” New York, John AViley & Sons, 1902. 208 THE MOTHER TONGUE. in fact a matter which is entirely within the choice of the designer, subject only to such limitations of cost as may be imposed by business considerations. In passing from stationary power-plants to moving power-plants in the form of locomotives, the designer gives up his freedom of choice with reference to many matters of detail, and finds himself confronted with the necessity of having his apparatus conform to certain general conditions. The work which his boiler and engine are to do must be made to appear in the motion of the plant itself and its attached train. Hence the heat-energy of the fuel must be transformed into work by as direct a process as is practicable. The stationary plant runs at a fixed speed and usually at a fairly constant load : the locomotive must run at all speeds ; it must climb hills, pulling slowly and hard, and it must roll rapidly into valleys, holding back a train which would push it on at still higher speeds. Important elements must be adapted one to another, and there must be an entire omission of many details which in good practice are regarded as necessary to the economical working of a stationary plant. The moving parts of a stationary engine work in a sub- stantial frame, which in turn is bolted to a massive foundation, while the frame of a locomotive is suspended by springs from axles carried by wheels which are supported by a yielding and uneven track. The action of the stationary engine can be one of precision, and delicate and precise devices may be embodied in its mechanism which are not at all admissible in the less rigid struc- ture of the locomotive. The stationary engine is protected from the weather and from dust, while the locomotive must give no trouble if worked in rain or snow, or in clouds of dust. The designer of a locomotive, moreover, is forced to recognize that the machine with which he is concerned constitutes but one of many elements which go to make up the material property of a railroad. The width between the wheels is prescribed by the gage of the track, and the length of the wheel-base by the curva- ture of track, the length of turn-tables, and the dimensions of other EXPLAXATIOX. 209 facilities at the terminals of the road. The extreme width and height of the machine are also limited, for the locomotive must pass by station-platforms, underneath bridges, and through tunnels. Despite such limiting conditions as these, the locomotive designer has for many years been under the necessity of produ- cing locomotives which will carry greater loads and move at higher speeds than those which have preceded them. Locomotives which could carry twenty cars have given way to newer and larger machines which are capable of carrying forty cars, and trains which used to be pulled at a speed of twenty-five miles an hour must now be carried at fifty miles an hour. With restraining conditions fixing limits which are absolute, and acting under the influence of a growing demand for increased power, the locomotive designer has been forced to regard economy in fuel as a matter of secondary importance. The same is true of the problems of reducing noise and abating smoke. He knows that smoke from a locomotive can be suppressed, but he also knows that, in accomplishing this, the firing will be interfered with and the power of the locomotive will be reduced. There is, in fact, no serious defect in the working of the modern locomotive that is not appreciated by the designer. He allows defects to exist because all efforts to overcome them appear to work to the disadvantage of more important characteristics of his machine. The achievements of the locomotive designer, in the face of all these difficulties, are illustrated by the figure on page 210, which shows two power-plants, each of a thousand horse-power. Both are drawn to the same scale, so that a comparison discloses their relative dimensions. The drawings tell their own story. Those of the stationary plant cover an area of paper many times greater than that covered by the drawings of the locomotive, and yet the power- capabilities of the two plants are the same. Evidently a con- struction that enables the power of the smaller apparatus to equal that of the larger must be unusually compact and effective. NATURE OF EXPLANATION. 211 SECTION 157. IMPORTANCE OF EXPLANATION. Explanation (or exposition) is the commonest form of dis- course. One can hardly answer a question that begins with why or how without explaining. You compose an explanation whenever you recite at school, or direct a stranger to the post ofhce, or tell a classmate how to play a game. Success in a trade or a profession depends largely on one’s power to explain a subject with accuracy and effectiveness. 1 The art of explaining, then, is of the highest impor- tance in all practical affairs. You should keep it in mind, not only in writing essays, but in your lessons in history, in literature, in language, and even in geometry and algebra. Make a list of several subjects from each of your studies on which you could write explanations. Discuss this list with the teacher and your classmates, revise it, and copy it into your notebook for future use. SECTION 158. THE NATURE OF EXPLANATION. The business of explanation is to make a subject clear in the mind of the reader or hearer. A familiar example will illustrate this process of clearing up a subject. Suppose you have to explain baseball to a Frenchman who has never seen the game played and perhaps has never heard of 1 See Section 1 on “ The Uses of Composition ” (pp. 3-6). 212 THE MOTHER TONGUE. it. You take him out to the field and say nothing. What are his first impressions ? He sees a man standing over a white plate with a stick in his hand. Another man throws a ball over the plate. A third person, who is not playing, calls out something. The first player throws down his stick and gives up his place to a fourth man, or he hits the ball and runs down a path to a place where a fifth man is standing, or perhaps he hits the ball but does not run. And so the game goes on. Of course the Frenchman has no notion of what it is all about. He cannot even guess why the man with the stick sometimes runs down the path and sometimes remains in his place ; or why presently the men in one kind of uniform come in from the field and sit down in the shade, only to go out again after a time. When he had watched three or four innings he would no doubt be utterly confused by all these meaningless actions. Suppose, now, you attempted to explain the game by taking up each incident as it occurred. You would ’only make matters worse. To give the Frenchman a clear idea of the subject, you would have to proceed in a very different way. You would begin by telling him how the field is laid out, and how many men there are on a side. Then you would come to the positions and duties of each player. These you would take up in order. First you would explain what the batter has to do ; then, perhaps, you would pass on to the pitcher and the catcher ; then to the first baseman. Next you might inform him of the different ways in which the batter can get to first base (either by hitting the ball or by a ‘‘ base on balls '’) and of what he has to do to ‘‘ make a run.” In other words, instead of letting the Frenchman try to under- stand all the acts of the game in the order in w^hich they took place, you would rearrange them entirely. You would bring together incidents that did not occur in the same innings, and would separate other incidents that came close together in the actual game. Thus, when you had finished, the Frenchman w^ould feel that all the confusing facts had been sorted out and so clearly arranged that he could now see how the game went. NATURE OF EXPLANATION. 213 This is the secret of good explanation. Facts and ideas are so rearranged that related things are brought together in groups, and one group is considered before the next is taken up. Turn to Dr. Van Dyke’s explanation of ‘‘The Smudge” (p. 199), and observe how each step in the process is explained separately. First he tells the purpose of the smudge ; then, how you may fail in your first attempt ; then he directs you to start your fire ; then he informs you what material will make the thickest smoke ; then, in what condition the fire must be ; and finally, how to complete the smudge. In carrying out his direc- tions, you might get your moss and rotten bark first, or you might begin by starting the fire. But, in order to explain the process clearly, the facts must be arranged as if the separate parts of the process were quite distinct and always took place in a fixed order. So in the fourth paragraph of “ The Siege of Arcot” (p. 352), Macaulay sums up the condition of the beleaguered town as follows : — “ The walls were ruins, the ditches dry, the garrison reduced by casualties, provisions were scanty.” These facts do not stand, you will observe, in the actual order of time. The destruction of the walls, for example, did not precede the drain- ing of the ditches ; nor was the garrison reduced before the provisions ran low. Macaulay has rearranged the facts so that we may understand them better in their relations to the whole subject. We often say, after hearing or reading a good explana- tion, ‘‘ Yes, I see now how it goes.” This natural figure of speech has a real significance. The facts are now so arranged in our minds that we can see them all together, as if they were laid out before us in a map or diagram. They are easy to comprehend because they have been properly sorted and arranged. 214 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 159. NOTES FOR AN OUTLINE OR PLAN. Before you begin to write an explanation, make a plan or outline. If the explanation is short, — a recitation in the class, for instance, — a very simple plan will do. Two or three topics (or heads) under which to group your material will probably be sufficient. These you can often frame without putting pen to paper. They may take the form of sentences or may consist in a phrase or even a single word ; but, when they are arranged in a clear and logical order, they give you a plan for your explanation. If the explanation is longer and more complicated, further preparation is necessary. You will need to make notes of the various points and to arrange the notes before you put your outline together. The need of a plan in such a case is clear enough. When you think over your subject, you will discover that there are a good many more points to explain than you at first supposed. If you write without a plan, these points will crop up from time to time in the wrong places. While you are composing the third para- graph, for example, something may occur to you that ought to have gone into the first. Thus you will either lose track of your subject or be forced to begin over again. First jot down as many topics as you can think of that ought to go into your explanation. Then look over the list, and insert whatever else occurs to you. It may be well to discuss the list with your family or a classmate. Be sure to cover everything that one might THE KEY-SENTENCE. 215 reasonably ask you about the subject, but do not go into detail too minutely, or you may never get through. Make notes for the plan of an explanation of some topic in the list which you have entered in your notebook (p. 211). After discussing these topics and revising them, copy them into your notebook for reference. To THE Teacher. — Additional exercises here should be drawn from subjects which the pupils have entered in their notebooks (Section 157). SECTION 160. THE KEY- SENTENCE. In making notes of the topics which you must cover in your explanation (Section 169), you will doubtless have arranged your material to some extent. Still, the notes are probably a good deal mixed up. Your next task is so to arrange them that you can make a plan or outline. As a first step, you may often set down, in a single sentence, the gist or chief principle of the whole subject you are to explain. This key-sentence ^ (as it is often called) will be a kind of summary of the whole explana- tion or essay. It may take the form of a definition. Thus, if you are about to write an explanation of football, your sentence may run as follows : — “Football is a game in which two teams of eleven men each attempt by force and strategy to carry a ball to one end or the other of a field.” Under this general statement you can bring whatever you have to say in your explanation. 1 It may he compared to the sentence which summarizes a paragraph (p. 265), the “ topic sentence,” as it is termed. 216 THE MOTHER TONGUE. So, again, a steam-engine has been defined as an apparatus for doing work by means of heat applied to water.” Under that summary statement you can bring anything that is necessary to explain the working of the most complicated engine. Sir John Lubbock’s “ Fertilization of Plants” (p. 203) may be summed up in the sentence, “ The purpose of the complex organization of flowers is to attract insects which will carry the pollen.from flower to flower.” The idea contained in this sentence determines the structure and the limits of the whole explanation. 1. Make a key-sentence which shall express the gist of Dr. Van Dyke’s explanation of ‘‘ How to Make a Smudge ” (pp. 199-200); of Grey’s ^‘Australian Kangaroo Hunt” (pp. 201-2). Compare and discuss the sentences that you make. 2. Write key-sentences which would state the gist or substance of the explanations for which the separate topics have already been written in your notebook. SECTION 161. ARRANGEMENT OF TOPICS. The topics which you have written out (Section 159) you may regard as your raw material, and the key- sentence (Section 160) as the clue which will reduce this confused mass of topics to intelligible order. The key-sentence will almost always suggest to you how to arrange the explanation, for it will make clear to your own mind the most important parts of the subject. Until you have such a clue, no one arrangement will present any advantage over another. You should now bring topics that belong together into groups which shall stand for the natural divisions of the subject. ARRANGEMENT OF TOPICS. 217 In Grey’s explanation of an ‘‘ Australian Kangaroo Hunt ” (pp. 201-2), all the points which set forth the alertness and the appearance of the hunter are brought together in the first paragraph. If you were making a plan of this explanation, these points would fall naturally into a single group. When the groups have developed themselves, the next step is to arrange them in what seems most likely to be a clear and simple order. Then number the groups, and write down for each one a topic-word or topic-sentence to suggest its contents. These words or sentences, when written out in order, will constitute your plan. At the head of it write the key-sentence. Afterwards you can take up each group of topics and arrange and rearrange its contents until they stand in a logical and natural order. When this is done, you have made a good start on your explanation, for you have accomplished the most important thing of all, the clear arrangement of your material. If you are to explain the production of cotton, for example, the key-sentence might be, The object of the cultivation is to produce the largest possible amount of clean long-fibred cotton.” The topics might fall into such groups as the preparation of the ground, the sowing of the seed, the cultivation of the crop, the picking, the ginning and baling, with perhaps a conclusion on the uses of cotton. To THE Teacher. — Practice in making key-sentences and arranging topics must be adapted to the needs of the pupils and to the nature of their subjects. In short oral compositions, the process will be much simplified. In compositions of considerable length or on complicated subjects, it will be more elaborate. The pupils should be made to see how the preliminary statement of the key-sentence may make all the difference between merely “writing something about” a subject and explaining it clearly and fully. To rewrite a confused explanation on the plan here laid out, will bring home to them the value of a preliminary arrangement of topics. 218 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 162. THE INTRODUCTION IN EXPLANATIONS. Your plan, or outline, is now finished. It begins with the key-sentence in which you have summed up or defined the subject. Under this you have written a list of well-arranged topics, and under each topic you have written, in proper order, a number of details which must be disposed of before the next topic is taken up. You are now ready to begin the actual writing of your explanation, and the outline will guide you in composing the whole essay. Most explanations require an introductory paragraph of some kind. The introduction should contain a concise and definite statement of what you mean to explain. The summary which you have already constructed in a single sentence will help you here. Sometimes you will be able to use it as it stands ; or it may be expanded and broken up into two or three sentences. The introduction is also the place for any preliminary remarks that you desire to make. These may include — 1. Your reasons for undertaking the explanation, if these affect either the selection of your material or its arrangement, or if there is any other ground for mentioning them. 2. Mention of the special audience to whom the explanation is addressed or for whom it is intended, in case the character of the audience forces you to treat the subject in a peculiar or unexpected way. 3. A statement of the order in which you purpose to take up the several parts of the subject. TKANSITION. 219 Of course you will not include any one of these three matters in the introduction unless it is needed. In a short essay, the introduction will usually fill one paragraph, sometimes two. It should never be very long. It is better to begin somewhat abruptly than to weary your reader by unnecessary talk before you come to the point. In a book the first chapter often serves as the introduction. Thus Professor Goss’s explanation of the locomotive (pi). 207-10) is Chapter I of his hook on “ Locomotive Sparks.” Write an appropriate introduction for the explanation of which you have already prepared a plan or outline (Section 161). Before beginning the introduction, decide which of the three types mentioned on page 218 you wish to follow. SECTION 163. TRANSITION. When you are started on the actual writing of your explanation, how can you be sure that the reader will follow you and see all the facts in just the way you intend ? He will not have before him the plan which you are using. All that he has to guide him is what you have said in your introduction. How can you pre- vent him from losing the thread ? The surest way is to give the reader notice of each new step in the explanation. This notice comes natu- rally in the transition from paragraph to paragraph. It may be given by a single word like however or moreover ; by a phrase like in the meanwhile or on the other hand ; or sometimes by a complete sentence, when the connection is abstruse, or else for any reason must be made 220 THE MOTHER TONGUE. especially clear. In every case, the notice should be so distinct that the reader cannot miss it. Do not let him pass from one step in the explanation to another without being aware of his progress. It is often of great assistance to the reader to begin a new paragraph with some reference to what precedes. Professor Goss, for example, begins one paragraph with ‘‘ In passing from stationary power-plants to moving power-plants ” (p. 208), and another with ‘‘ Despite such limiting conditions.” Lubbock begins some of his paragraphs as follows : In species where the pollen is wind-borne ” ; ‘‘ Now, why has the flower this peculiar form ? ” He also employs paragraphs of a single sen- tence or of two sentences to emphasize transition: as, — ‘‘What, then, is the use and purpose of this complex organization?” and “ Let us now apply these views to a few common flowers. Take, for instance, the white dead-nettle.” In each case the reference knits the explanation more closely together, and makes it easier to keep all the parts in mind at the same time. Remember that the sense of clear arrangement which a good explanation gives the reader is dependent on bringing like topics together into groups, and that ordinarily these groups are indicated by paragraphs. As you pass to each new paragraph, then, be sure that your reader is aware not only of the transition, but also of the nature of the new group of topics, and of its relation to what has gone before. Few devices do more to make an explanation clear and agreeable reading than this distinctness in the transition from paragraph to paragraph. On the other hand, if the transition is indistinct and vague, the explanation, though otherwise perfectly clear, may be difficult and tiresome to follow. EXAMPLES IN EXPLANATION. 221 SECTION 164. EXAMPLES IN EXPLANATION. The use of examples that are familiar to the reader will often help to make an explanation clear and vivid. An apt example may enforce a general principle more effectually than a page of abstract exposition. Grey writes his explanation of an Australian Kangaroo Hunf (pp. 201-2) as if he were describing a single instance, of such a hunt. Lubbock drives home his explanation of ‘‘The Fertilization of Plants’’ (p. 204) by examples of the number of pollen grains in a peony and a dandelion, and then adds, “ Let us apply these views to a few common flowers.” Moreover, the use of examples will test your own knowledge of the subject. If, as you write, specific examples of your general principles or statements flock to your mind, you may be sure that you have a good command of the subject. On the other hand, if you know only the? general principles, and cannot find specific instances to illustrate them, there is danger that your • knowledge of the subject is not very deep. Examples, however, should always be familiar enough to the reader to assist him in grasping your idea. A farfetched example is worse than useless. To employ such an illustration is to explain the difficult by means of the more difficult,” — a very serious fault in com- position. 1. Bring to the class six effective specific examples used in explanation. 2. Suggest examples that would be useful in explaining some of the subjects for which you have made plans (p. 217). 222 THE MOTHEK TONGUE. SECTION 166. EXPLANATION BY COMPAEISON. In many cases the simplest way to explain one thing is by comparing or contrasting it with another. Dr. Yan Dyke begins his explanation of how to make a smudge (p. 199) by telling you how not to do it. Professor Goss (pp. 207-10) brings out the difficulties of designing a loco- motive by comparing it with a stationary engine. So, in study- ing the structure and anatomy of animals, it is not unusual to begin with the consideration of some familiar animal, like the cat, and to use this as the standard of comparison from which the structure of other animals varies. If the method is to be useful, the comparison must be made with an object or idea which is already familiar to the reader. It would only double your task to choose something which must itself be explained. Moreover, the points of resemblance should be clear and obvious, and the points of difference not too subtle. Finally, as soon as the comparison has served its purpose of aiding in the explanation, you should drop it at once. If you have younger brothers or sisters, you are always explaining things to them by comparison. In such a case, be sure, in the first place, that you see clearly just what it is that they wish to know. Then consider what they already know about the subject ; or, if it is quite new to them, think of something with which they are familiar, as a starting-point for your explanation. Finally, be sure that you couch your explanation in terms that they understand ; or, if you must use an unfamiliar term, explain it carefully before you go on. THE USE OF DIAGRAMS. 223 SECTION 166. THE USE OF DIAGRAMS. In many cases you can hardly make an explanation clear without using diagrams or pictures. It is impos- sible, for example, to explain a problem in geometry without a diagram ; and without a map or plan it would be difficult to make a stranger understand how your town is laid out. So in most explanations of machines and of the shapes of plants or animals, diagrams or figures are necessary. If you try to reproduce Sir John Lubbock’s explanation with- out the diagrams, you will at once recognize their value. Without the figures, the explanation would have taken much more space, and after all would have been far less clear and accurate. The diagram in Professor Goss’s explanation (p. 210) shows at a glance how much harder it is to design a locomotive than a stationary engine. N^ote also the use of diagrams and figures to supplement and illustrate the definitions in any large dictionary. Diagrams should be as simple as possible, and should not be cumbered with superfluous details. A simple outline drawing, with letters or numerals for reference, is usually sufficient. 1. Bring to the class three examples of diagrams that have helped you to understand a subject. 2. Mention three subjects wFich it would be difficult or impossi- ble to explain without figures or diagrams. 3. Suggest figures or examples which would be useful in explain- ing some of the subjects for which you have made plans (p. 217). To THE Teacher. — Exercises in explanation with the help of diagrams may he drawn from lessons in botany, physiology, or physics. 224 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 167. LIVELINESS IN EXPLANATION. The aim of an explanation is to instruct; but that does not give it a right to be dull. A work of science may be as fascinating as a novel. This offence of dull- ness brings its own punishment : it defeats the purpose of the explanation. A prosy writer makes a sleepy reader. One way to attract and hold your reader’s attention is to draw your examples from familiar objects in which he may already be presumed to take some interest. Every- body likes to have his surroundings made more intelli- gible to him. Thus Sir John Lubbock (p. 204) chose the white dead-nettle, a common English weed, to illustrate the fertilization of flowers. When the method of dwelling on a single example is impracticable, you may produce a similar effect by fre- quent allusions to familiar things. Such illustrative allu- sions not only sustain the reader’s interest, but also bring home to him the truth of your explanation. In any case, use specific, concrete facts to illustrate — and, incidentally, to enliven — your discussion of general principles. The mention of particular objects of sensation — of things which the reader can see or feel or hear — will stimulate his attention, while at the same time it makes your explanation clearer and more accurate. 1. From some explanation that you have lately read bring to the class examples of specific facts used as illustrations. 2. Name five familiar facts which you could use to illustrate and lend interest to the explanations planned in Section 160. CONCLUSION IN EXPLANATIONS. 225 SECTION 168. THE CONCLUSION IN EXPLANATIONS. When you have set forth in their due order the different topics of your explanation, you seem to have come to the end. To stop abruptly, however, may con- fuse your reader. It is usually better to clinch his understanding of the subject by means of a short conclusion. This conclusion should ordinarily sum up what has preceded. It should bring the results together in a concise form, so that they may be grasped by a single effort of the mind. A mere enumeration of the several topics does not make a good conclusion. What is needed is a state- ment, in condensed form, of the sum and substance of the essay. If you have not used your key-sentence ” (p. 215) in the introduction, it may come in here. Sometimes the conclusion refers back to the intro- duction, reminding the reader of what you set out to do and showing that you have fulfilled your promise. In an essay of moderate length, a single paragraph will suffice for the concluding summary. In a book, the last chapter often serves as a conclusion. 1. Bring to the class an example of a conclusion which sums up an explanation. 2. Write paragraphs which might serve, either by way of sum- mary or of practical application, as conclusions to the explanations on which the class has been working (p. 216). 3. Discuss the conclusions of the last two or three explanations which you have written, and try to improve them. 226 THE MOTHEK TONGUE. SECTION 169.1 EXPLANATOEY DESCEIPTIOX. An explanation often takes the form of a description, and it is then to be distinguished from a pure or ‘‘literary” description chiefly by the difference in purpose. Scientific descriptions are always explanatory. The difference in purpose causes some differences in the form of the description. For one thing, the order is generally different. You may describe the view from a great hill (1) in order to bring out the physical geography of the region, or (2) in order to convey to the reader your impression of the beauty and grandeur of the landscape. In the former case, you may speak first of the hills, then of the water courses, then of the vegetation, and so on. In the latter, you might first describe the view to the eastward, then that towards the south ; but you would not classify the geographical features in a formally scientific manner. Again, an explanatory description dwells much less on the specific sensations of color, sound, and movement. On the other hand, it makes more use of general terms. In the explanatory description of the view above mentioned, you would hardly speak of ‘‘ blue hills on the horizon,’’ or ‘‘ a flock of cawing crows in mid-air.” You probably would use general terms like elevations, vegetation, animal life. Finally, in an explanatory description the structure must be made more apparent to the reader; transition must be strongly marked, and proportion must be care- fully adjusted. 1 For exercises, see pp. 238, 363-6. Explanatory description is some- times called “circumstantial,” and literary description “ impressional ” or “dynamic.” EXPLANATION IN RECITATIONS- 227 SECTION 170. EXPLANATION IN RECITATIONS. Every recitation is an explanation, as we have already seen (p. 211). Thus you have many opportunities for practice in this art, even when you are not writing essays. Whenever you recite, then, remember that you are to explain the subject in hand as clearly and effectively as you can. Keep this in mind in studying. Do not merely learn your lesson by rote, but gather knowledge to use in an explanation of your own which shall be as good as that in the text-book, or better. Do not hesi- tate to improve on the book. In this very case, for example, if you can set forth the doctrine of explana- tion so that it shall be clearer than the book makes it, and more useful to the other pupils, you are doing them a service. Name half a dozen subjects which you have explained in recitation in the last two days. The following directions for studying will be found useful, not only as practice in explanation, but as a means of learning your lessons well and remembering them. First read the lesson through. Then go back and note down the more important topics on a sheet of paper. Study each topic in order, with the paper before you. Then, still referring to the paper, see if you can give a clear and accurate explanation of each of the topics. There is no better way of making sure that you really know the lesson. 228 THE MOTHER TONGUE. When you recite, and are asked to explain some por- tion of the lesson, the teacher’s question will give you your main topic. Start from that, then, and try to arrange what you say as if you were constructing a paragraph. Let your first sentence state what you are going to do ; then develop the subject carefully as you go along, and try to end with a sentence that shall sum up what you have said. SECTION 171. EXPLANATION IN WRITTEN TESTS.” Tests ” and written examinations afford excellent practice in explanation ; for they require you to collect and express your knowledge in a limited time. Your mind, therefore, must work both quickly and accurately, and you must apply the principles of explanation as if they were second nature. Before you write the answer to a question, take a minute or two to recall what you have learned about the subject and to consider how you can best set forth your knowledge. Jot down on a bit of paper the things that you must mention, and the order in which to write about them. Then tell what you know as clearly as possible. Note. — Not only will this plan give you valuable practice in composi- tion, but it will save time and pay well in its actual result on your standing- in school. Remember that “test papers” and examination books are marked by persons who have a good many of them to read, and who often have to work in a hurry. When, therefore, the examiner comes to a paper in which it is easy to grasp the facts, he inevitably gives it a higher grade. This is quite proper. You cannot pass a good examination unless you can make yourself clear. An explanation which is mixed up and obscure usually goes back to a fragmentary and confused knowledge of the subject. EXPLANATION IN CONVERSATIONS. 229 SECTION 172. EXPLANATION IN CONVERSATIONS. Ordinary conversation, as we have seen (p. 211), con- sists in great part of explanations made in a few brief sentences. Here one has continual opportunity for valu- able training. Whenever you direct a stranger how to reach a par- ticular point in your town or city, you have a good chance to use your skill in explanation. It is far from easy to state the various turns that the inquirer must make, so clearly and concisely that he shall understand your directions quickly and carry them easily in his head. A rough map, sketched on the back of an envelope, may be of assistance. Remember your own experiences in this respect. In an oral explanation, try not to ramble and repeat yourself. Think a moment, and settle upon the most important points. Set these forth lucidly, and, if addi- tional details are necessary, return to them later. 1. You propose a game of croquet to your cousin, who is visiting you. She has never played croquet. Imagine that you go to the croquet ground together and begin to play. Your cousin asks questions, in reply to which you explain the game. Report the conversation, with appropriate introduction and com- ment. Continue the explanatory narrative to the completion of the game. 2. Turn to one of the Kollo Books ” (or a similar work) and find a piece of explanation occurring in conversation. Bring the selection to the class for discussion. 3. Imagine a person who has never seen a railroad. Explain to him the general plan of construction. 230 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 173. ABSTRACTS OR SUMMARIES. Not infrequently one is required to prepare an abstract or summary of a paper or of a passage from a book. At school, for instance, you must be able to make useful notes on your reading ; in business your employer may ask you to collect and present to him the substance of a report or of a number of documents. The first thing to do in such cases is to read the paper through. Unless you do this, you cannot under- stand the writer’s purpose, and therefore you cannot judge what is important and decide what you may omit. Your comprehension of the main purpose of the writer will largely determine the value of your summary. The important points should then be clearly stated and duly emphasized. If the abstract must be short, you may be able to preserve nothing except these points. If you have space, insert short quotations or striking examples from the original document. These will impart to your abstract something of the effect of the original and will thus make it a more adequate substi- tute. Be careful, however, that such quotations and examples do not obscure more important facts. Care in paragraphing will stand you in good stead ; for the indentations in the page will indicate at once to the eye the main divisions of the subject, and will therefore save words. So, again, you can put minor facts into the subordinate clauses and phrases of your sen- tences, and thus make your abstract fuller without lessening the emphasis on more important points. EXPOSITION OF CHARACTER. 231 A report of a lecture or address is of much the same nature as an abstract ; except that here you must rely on your memory or on your notes for the facts that you mean to include. Always try to apprehend and make clear the main outlines of what you report: that is essen- tial. Then fill in the report with illustrations which the lecturer used and with words or turns of phrase which are characteristic of him. To THE Teacher. — Exercises in making abstracts or summaries should be useful in developing the pupils’ discrimination and power to seize on the important point. If they keep notebooks in history or literature, their notes should be carefully watched : slovenly habits here may go far to defeat the purposes of their work in composition. If time allows, training should be given in taking notes from informal lectures, or from reading aloud. In some cases it may be practicable to let one pupil prepare and deliver an informal address and the others report it. The ability to take good notes is of the highest practical importance both to pupils who go to college and to those who engage in business. SECTION 174. EXPOSITION OF CHARACTER. Description of the character of an individual often runs over into explanation of a type of character. Sometimes no clear line can be drawn between the two. For example, you might describe Washington’s character by explaining the highest type of the American gentleman and then pointing to him as the best example of the type ; or you might explain what qualities an American gentleman should have by describing Washington as the best example. In the main, the description of an individual makes free use of specific facts that, taken together, would apply to 232 THE MOTHEK TONGUE. no one else ; and the explanation of a type consists of general assertions that must apply to all similar cases. Newman’s explanation of ‘‘The Gentleman” (pp. 355- 56) is a good example of the latter class. This might be called an extended definition. Newman specifies a great many traits of character, all of which, however, come under the general statement at the begin- ning, It is almost a definition of a gentleman to say that he is one who never inflicts pain.” Without the minute specification of details, the explanation would be incomplete ; without the single principle, these details would be scattering and incon- clusive. Such an explanation, then, needs both the general principle to give it point and unity, and an application of the principle to the many cases in which the charac- ter may manifest itself. SECTION 175. CONCLUSION. We have seen that the essence of explanation is the orderly arrangement of the material ; that an outline or plan is of the greatest assistance in perfecting this arrangement ; that an introduction and a conclusion in definite terms are usually necessary; and that, as you pass from one step of the explanation to another, you should give notice of your progress. In writing out the complete explanation, be careful of paragraphing and of sentence structure. Effective paragraphing is the surest and easiest way to indicate the divisions of a subject ; and without a variety of sentences EXPLANATION. 233 it is impossible to express any except the simplest relations between facts or ideas. Be particular, too, in the selection of words, for carelessness or inaccuracy in this respect may seriously obscure your meaning. Remember, too, the value of diagrams. In many cases you can give more help by a sketch map on a scrap of paper than by a page of description. Finally, make your explanation interesting to the reader. This you can accomplish in two ways. In the first place, you may attach it to his own experience and to objects with which he is familiar. It always arouses our interest to discover unsuspected relations between things with which we are already well acquainted. With this in view, Sir John Lubbock shows how necessary a bumblebee is to a nettle flower (p. 204), and Professor Goss compares a locomotive with a stationary engine (p. 207). In the second place, do not hesitate to put color and action into an explanation when you can do so without distracting the reader. The more you can stimulate his attention, the more easily he will follow you. Grey’s ‘‘Australian Kangaroo Hunt” (p. 201) is all the better for being lively and picturesque, and the humor of Dr. Van Dyke’s directions for making a smudge makes them easier to remember. Do not confine yourself to cold and abstract generalities. Illustrate and exemplify your general principles by applying them to specific facts or individual cases. The explanation of an abstruse subject may require some study before it is fully comprehended ; but the writer should not add to the difficulty and discourage the reader by a dull and lifeless style. 234 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 176. EXERCISES m EXPLANATION. In preparing the explanations in Sections 176-181 proceed on the following plan : - — Know what you wish to say, before you try to write. 1. State the point of your explanation clearly. 2. Write a brief outline of what you know about the subject. 3. Note items which are not clear to you. 4. By reading, observation, and conversation with persons who are familiar with your subject, fill out your knowledge ; then complete your outline. 5. Write your explanation from the outline.^ I. Jack, a city boy, ten years old, goes to his grandfather’s in the country to spend the summer. He is an observant boy, and asks many questions, among them the following. Answer them clearly, as if you were replying to Jack. 1. What makes the days longer in summer than in winter? 2. Where does the water in the brook come from and where does it go ? 3. How do fishes breathe ? 4. Why do you drain a swamp, and how do you do it? 5. How do you make butter ? 6. How do they make smooth boards out of a tree ? 7. How came this ear of corn speckled red and white? 8. What is a tedder? What does it do? and how? 9. How do you split a big boulder? 10. What is a toll gate ? Are there any now ? 11. What is a mortgage? What happens if it is not paid? 1 If the teacher prefers, the explanation may be oral. EXEKCISES IN EXPLANATION. 285 II. Imagine that your cousin, a girl of sixteen, whose home is in the country, visits you in the city. You explain to her some of the unfamiliar things in city life, as follows : — 1. How the streets are cleaned, and why. 2. A street-car transfer; what it is ; how it looks; when and how it is used. 3. The ferry boat ; its use and general appearance. 4. The elevator in a large building. 5. How the house is lighted. 1 . Material means : gas pipes, electric wires, etc. 2. Supply : thi-ough a company ; how measured ; how regu- lated. 3. Compare the advantages of kerosene, gas, and electricity. 6. Explain the use of an automatic public telephone. 7. Explain how your city is governed. (Prepare an outline.) 8. Describe a grain elevator. 9. Compare facilities for obtaining food-stuffs in the city and in the country. SECTION 177. Construct outlines for explanation or description of the subjects in the following list. Exchange outlines for criticism. Examples. T. A pine cone. 1. Its appearance. 2. Its structure. 3. The ripe and the unripe cone compared. ^ ^ a. Scales : shape, size, arrangement. ^ h. Seeds : appearance, number, position. 4. Use or function of the cone. 5. Varieties of cones, on difterent pines. 236 THE MOTHER TONGUE. II. A cup and saucer. 1 . Manufacture. a. From what material made. Where obtained. Process of shaping. Visit to a pottery or china shop. b. Decoration and glazing. c. Firing. 2. Describe an exquisite piece of china, comparing it with a coarse bit of pottery. 1. A paper box. 10. 2. A wagon wheel. 11. 3. A horseshoe. 12. 4. A paper of pins. 13. 5. Bone and its uses. 14. 6. A wheelbarrow. 15. 7. My best penknife. 16. 8. Peanuts. . 17. 9. Sweet potatoes. 18. SECTION 178. From the exercises below pick out a subject that is familiar to you. Prepare an outline (as in Section 177); then explain the subject fully, clearly, and in accurate language, to your classmates, either orally or in writing. 1. What are tides? How are they caused? What is their effect ? 2. What is a freshet? What causes it? What are some of the effects of a freshet? 3. I had an orange for breakfast. Where did it come from ? How was it grown? How did it get to me? 4. I live in New England. Tell me about the prairies. 5. 1 live in Ohio- Tell me about the mountains. How hay is made. How a roof is shingled. How laws are made. How a colt is broken. How a dog is trained. How a boy has a good time. What girls like to do. How Jack raised chickens. What a normal school is. EXERCISES IN EXPLANATION. 237 6. Kate lives in Nebraska. Tell her about the seashore. 7. John’s home is in Maine. Tell him about life in New Orleans. 8. Explain the process of canning fruits and vegetables. 9. How is gold obtained? coined? used? What makes it valuable as coin? in the arts? 10. Chestnuts : what they are ; how they look ; where they grow ; squirrels and chestnuts ; boys and chestnuts ; a day spent in gathering chestnuts. 11. Raisins : what they are; how they are obtained; how pre- pared for market ; how used. SECTION 179. 1. Turn to the oral exercises in Section 176, and prepare introductory sentences for each explanation. Let some of these sentences be questions : as, — “ Do you know how we harvest ice in winter. Jack ? Let me tell you.” 2. Turn to your Physics, your Physical Geography, or your History ; find a good explanation, and study the introduction. If there is no introduction, explain the author’s reason for omit- ting it. 3. Invent an introduction which attracts the attention of the hearers and announces the subject of the explanation. 4. Write an introduction which presents the scene of the explanation to the hearer, as in a letter from your home to a Cuban, or a letter written from Labrador. 5. In one of your text-books, as in Exercise 2, or in an article in a magazine, find an explanation with an effective conclusion. Show how the conclusion rounds out and enforces the explanation. 6. Exchange the last explanations you have written. See if the composition you receive has an effective conclusion. If it has not, supply one, and show how it improves the explanation. 238 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 180. 1. Explain the game of tennis to a friend who has never played it. 2. Describe the pleasures of skating. Imagine that you are writing to a cousin, in Southern California, who has never learned to skate. 3. Explain to a child how pearls are obtained. Describe the experience of a pearl-diver. 4. Your cousin, who lives in California, writes to you, describ- ing the rainy season there. Reproduce her letter. Reply, describing a New England winter or a winter in the Middle West. 5. Frank Swift, who has just entered college, writes to a friend at home, describing college life. Reproduce the letter, remember- ing that the friend has never been at college. 6. Tell what cocoanuts are, where and how they are obtained, and how they are used. 7. Describe the sugar cane and the manufacture of sugar. 8. You live in South Carolina. A cousin in Michigan, who has never been in the South, sends to you for information about rice and rice swamps, for use in her essay. Reply, giving the desired explanation. 9. Where and how is coffee obtained? How is it distrib- uted ? How is it used ? 10. Describe a yacht to a friend who has never seen one. Use a picture, if you choose, to aid you in your description. 11. Describe a yacht race. 12. Explain the building of a birch canoe. (Read the account in Hiawatha.”) 13. Read a description of a bear hunt. Report the hunt as if to a group of children, making the conditions clear by your explanation. 14. Report a day’s climbing in the mountains, introducing such explanations as are necessary. EXERCISES IN EXPLANATION. 239 SECTION 181. In the following exercises, use such sketches and diagrams as are necessary. 1. Explain the construction of a suspension bridge. Draw a diagram to make your essay clear. 2. Explain the phases of the moon, using a diagram. If you do not understand the changes in the appearance of the moon, get an astronomy, and study the explanation until it seems clear to you. 3. By means of a diagram and a written description, explain the construction of a canal lock. Show how the lock enables a boat to pass to a higher or a lower level. 4. Describe a windmill, using a drawing to make your mean- ing clear. Refer to the drawing by letters. 5. What is a pulley? How is it used? Explain, using a drawing, a written description, and an illustrative example. Read your explanation to your classmates, and ask them to show how each of these three means of explanation helps the others. 6. Find in your History some description which is made plain by means of a map or diagram. Copy both the description and the diagram, to present to the class. Show how each reinforces the others. 7. What is a watershed ? Explain and illustrate by means of a diagram or a map of a region near home. 8. Using both words and drawings, describe the houses of the Esquimaux. 9. What is meant by crystallization? Explain the term, giv- ing examples and illustrating by drawings. 10. Describe a lighthouse. Tell what it is intended to do, and then show how it does it. 11. Bring to the class some illustrated piece of writing which you have found in a book or magazine. Show how the pictures illustrate the text, and the text explains the pictures. 12. Explain the action of some mechanical toy. Use a diagram. 240 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 182.1 To explain an idea which is embodied in a visible and tangible shape, as in a wheelbarrow or a steam-engine, is less difficult than to explain the meaning of a word, a scientific term, or an abstract idea. Yet explanations of the latter kind are often required in the ordinary business of life. Training in this variety of com- position promotes clearness of thought as well as accuracy of expression. In the following exercises, try to get a definite idea of the meaning of each term ; then express your idea as clearly and accurately as you can. Use definitions, and, when you can, give examples from your own experience. 1. What is a noun? How does it differ from a verb? from an adjective ? 2. What is meant by the phrase nominative absolute f 3. What is the metric system ? 4. What is a complex fraction ? 5. What are customs duties? 6. What is meant by the expression ‘‘ equation of payments ”? 7. Explain the rule for finding the area of a rectangle. 8. What is meant by the expression ‘‘the survival of the fittest ” ? 9. Explain why one should not say “ I ainT got no pencil. 10. Explain the botanical terms used in Sir John Lubbock’s description of a regular flower (p. 203). 11. Explain the terms equator, vernal equinox, longitude, latitude, meridian, parallel, winter solstice, eclipse. 12. What is the Classical Course in your school? the Commer- cial Course ? the General Course ? ^ For additional exercises in explanation, see pp. 363-8. CRITICISM. 241 SECTION 183. CRITICISM. One of the prime objects of education is to foster the taste for reading and to cultivate a discriminating appreciation of the best books. Accordingly, every educated person needs the power to express his judg- ment of what he reads. Such a judgment is called a criticism (from a Greek word meaning “ to judge ”). Almost all book reviews fall under the head of criticism. Though one usually knows in a general way what one’s opinion of a book is, it is often by no means easy to put this opinion into appropriate words. Perhaps the quickest means of defining one’s impres- sion of any book is to compare it mentally with another book of a similar nature. Suppose, for example, you wish to express your opinion of Hawthorne’s House of the Seven Gables.” If you call before your mind George Eliot’s “ Silas Marner,” which likewise deals with the inherited effect of wrong-doing, you see at once that Hawthorne portrays far subtler and less tangible characteristics of human nature ; and that, though his people seem real, yet they do not quite belong to the workaday world that we know. This observa- tion makes you note the constant play of fantasy and imagination which so often brings HawThorne’s stories to the verge of poetry, and your criticism is well begun. You may often use such a comparison in the actual expression of your judgment, — that is, in your criticism of the book ; for it is sometimes easier to explain what 242 THE MOTHER TONGUE. a thing is by showing what it is not. Dr. Johnson, one of the greatest of English critics, was fond of this method. Here is what he wrote in discussing the poetry of Alexan- der Pope : — If the flights of Dryden are higher, Pope continues longer on the wing. If of Dryden's fire the blaze is brighter, of Pope’s the heat is more regular and constant. Dryden often surpasses expectation, and Pope never falls below it. Dryden is read with frequent astonishment, and Pope with perpetual delight. Your comparison, however, should not be forced or far- fetched, nor should it be carried out in wearisome detail. In writing your criticism, make plentiful reference to the facts of the book, in order to back up your general assertions. If you can quote a few passages, so much the better ; for then you may be sure that your reader will understand the grounds of your opinion. A gen- eral statement, not thus supported by quotations or specific references, may apply to so many books that it gives the reader no individual idea of the particular work which you are criticising. Do not confuse criticism with faultfinding. Almost any one can point out some blemish in even the greatest work; but such carping seldom serves any useful pur- pose. If, on the other hand, you can suggest the power of a work or indicate its beauties and excellences, you may add to your reader’s enjoyment and appreciation of good literature. Before you try to express your opinion of a book, be sure that you understand the author’s purpose. Do not pass judgment on Dickens’s David Copperfield ” as if you thought he had tried to write an exciting story of CRITICISM. 243 adventure, or on Longfellow as if he ought to have written in as martial and stirring a strain as Sir Walter Scott. Let your estimate include an appreciation of the author’s aim. Finally, remember that criticism is not a bare statement of personal preference. The mere assertion that Dickens is your favorite author, or that you like Longfellow better than Bryant, is about as profitable as the remark that blue is your favorite color, or that you do not like tea so well as coffee. It may interest your personal friends, but it can hardly concern any one else. What your criticism should do is to analyze your impression, to point out what is admirable in your author, and perhaps in part to define the means by which this admirable effect is produced. In this way criticism is analogous to the explanation of a character (p. 231); for it aims to select and make evident those traits and qualities that give a book individuality and make it different from any other. To THE Teacher. — Criticism is a very advanced form of composition. It may therefore be too difficult for pupils in this grade. If it is found desirable to attempt it, the teacher may prepare the way by bringing out diversities of opinion in a class-room discussion, and by insisting on the separation of mere differences of taste from differences of judgment. Then each pupil may write out his own judgment, supporting it by con- stant reference to the work in hand. Such practice connects itself closely with the study of literature. The same principles apply to the expression of taste and judgment in other branches of the fine arts. Criticisms of painting, of sculpture, of architecture, or of music are of the same nature as criticisms of literature. In each case the judgment must be based on knowledge and sympathy, and should be expressed with moderation and a fine sense of proportion. Above all things, the pupil should not be required to attempt impossible things. He should not be allowed to waste his time in arranging ten American poets in the order of their eminence, or other such futile tasks. 244 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 184. ARGUMENT AND EXPLANATION. In many cases there is no substantial difference between argument and explanation; and even in cases where there is a difference, this does not alter the fact that every argument must be founded on an adequate explana- tion of the subject in hand. For example, suppose you think that the afternoon session of your school ought to be given up, or, on the contrary, that the long morning session should be divided into a morning and an after- noon session. In either case you can best make other people agree with you by explaining clearly and forcibly the disadvan- tages of the present system and the advantages of the system which you favor. The main distinction between explanation and argument is a difference of purpose. An explanation aims to impart knowledge or to make a subject clearer. An argument aims to establish or change the opinion of the hearer or reader, or, it may be, to persuade him to act in a par- ticular way. In an argument, we assume a difference of opinion among reasonable men, and endeavor to bring them all over to our own side of the case ; in an explana- tion, we assume that there is only one view of the subject, and set forth that view impartially. To THE Teacher. — The distinction here made between explanation and argument is as sharp as the facts warrant. No formal definitions are attempted, for such definitions must he so qualified that they are rather a hindrance than a help to the beginner, and the adept does not need them. Argument seldom occurs in an unmixed form. Explanation and argument run into each other, like explanation and description, or description and narration (see pp. 164, 190) . For a detailed treatment, which would he out of place in this book. Baker’s “Principles of Argumentation” may be consulted. KINDS OF ARGUMENT. 245 SECTION 185. THREE KINDS OF ARGUMENT. Arguments may be divided into three main classes, according to the nature of the questions with which they deal : (1) arguments of fact, (2) arguments of theory or principle, and (3) arguments of policy. An argument of fact aims to establish or disprove an assertion as to a definite occurrence or state of things. Thus the following propositions might be argued, pro and con^ as questions of concrete fact : — The Allerton Bank was robbed by Thomas Ackers on March 3, 1886. King Alfred was born in the year 902. The Trojan War actually took place. Richard Roe paid John Doe five hundred dollars on the tenth of last April. Gunpowder was invented by the Chinese. An argument of fact is commonly addressed to per- sons who are assumed to be impartial. It appeals to their reason and common sense, not to their interests or prejudices. It deals with concrete questions of human knowledge and experience, which, if there is evidence enough available, may always be determined beyond a reasonable doubt. An argument of theory or principle, like an argument of fact, is addressed to the reason of its audience and not to their feelings or interests. Unlike an argument of fact, however, it aims to establish or disprove, not a con- crete matter of human experience, but either a general law or principle which explains a large body of isolated 246 THE MOTHER TONGUE. facts, or the applicability of such a law or principle to the facts in question. Propositions of this kind are the following : — The earth and the other planets revolve round the sun as a centre. (The Copernican System of astronomy.) The sun and the planets revolve round the earth as a centre. (The Ptolemaic System of astronomy.) Matter consists of molecules which are composed of atoms. The change of seasons depends on the inclination of the earth. All questions of scientific and philosophical theory come under this same head, and so do questions involv- ing the applicability of some principle of law to an admitted body of facts. Arguments of theory, however abundant the evidence, are seldom capable of deciding the question beyond the possibility of doubt. At times, however, so strong a probability may be established on one side or the other that sensible men regard the discussion as definitely settled. In legal questions, the determination lies with the highest court. An argument of policy differs from an argument of fact or of theory in that it aims, not to establish or disprove a fact or a principle, but to persuade the person to whom it is addressed to act in accordance with the belief or the wishes of the speaker or writer. The following are examples of questions which might produce such arguments : — Shall the United Street Railway Company receive permission to lay a double track in Preston Avenue ? Shall the practice of coaching from the side-lines be forbidden in amateur baseball ? Shall the law protecting song birds be strictly enforced ? Shall the United States withdraw from the Philippine Islands? ARGUMENTS OF FACT. 247 SECTION 186. ARGUMENTS OF FACT. An argument of fact usually aims to prove that a definite occurrence did or did not take place, and this it can do only by citing other facts as proof. In such cases, it is often possible to reach a conclusion with which a reasonable man cannot disagree, and this would always be possible if all the facts could be discovered. In other words, arguments of fact are based on evidence. Evidence may be either direct or indirect. If a man is arrested for attempting to rob a bank, the testi- mony of a policeman that he caught him drilling holes in the safe is direct evidence. The fact that the defendant was seen to run from the building, that the safe was blown open, and that near it lay a coat belonging to the defendant is indirect evidence. Indirect evidence may tend to establish a fact either (1) by antecedent probability or (2) by sign. 1. An argument from antecedent probability depends on facts which tend to show that the occurrence in ques- tion was likely to happen. Thus, the fact that a man was a professional burglar might tend to make it probable that he had committed a particular burglary; so also his possession of burglar’s tools and his being in great need of money. 2. An argument from sign is based on facts which indi- cate that the occurrence did actually happen as alleged. Thus, in a case of bank robbery, evidence that the prisoner was seen running away from the building and that his coat was found near the broken safe would be grounds for an argument from sign ; for such facts point to his being the robber. 248 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 187. ARGUMENTS OF THEORY OR PRINCIPLE. Arguments of theory or principle aim to establish the best explanation of great masses of facts ; or, if the principle is already known, to show that a given case comes under that principle. Such an argument may closely resemble an explanation ; for, to establish the theory or to decide on the principle that applies, we must canvass all the rele- vant facts and show that they are satisfactorily explained and harmonized by the theory. Arguments of theory are necessary at every new step in science. Their value depends on the thoroughness with which they discuss all the attainable evidence and the clearness with which they set it forth. When a certain body of facts may be explained by either of two scientific theories, that one which accounts for them all in the simpler and more reasonable way has the preference. Thus, the Ptolemaic theory of astronomy (which held that the earth is the centre of our system) and the Copernican theory (which held that the sun is the centre) both accounted for the motions of the heavenly bodies. The Copernican theory, how- ever, provided a far simpler explanation than the Ptolemaic, and has accordingly been universally accepted. Arguments on questions of law before a judge are arguments of theory; for the facts are already estab- lished, and the question is, What principle of law applies to them?” In the nineteenth century, the courts of New Hampshire were required to pass upon the right of a mill owner to erect a dam ARGUMENTS OF POLICY. 249 and thus to flow lands bordering on a pond or river. The case had to be decided on one of two principles. On the one hand, there was the right of every man to control and protect his own property; on the other, the “right of eminent domain,” by which the state, whenever the maintenance of the right of private prop- erty interferes with improvements of marked public benefit, steps in, and, with due compensation, overrules the claims of the pri- vate owner. The court decided that, since the interests of the community called for the building of dams and mills, the right of the shore owners to keep their fields unflooded must give way. Here all the facts were agreed upon, and the arguments dealt merely with the question which principle of law was applicable to them. SECTION 188. ARGUMENTS OF POLICY. The argument of policy is perhaps the commonest of the three classes of argument. Every one of us is continu- ally called upon to decide, for himself or another, the question whether it is right or expedient to perform a given act. On such occasions, we always weigh the pros and eons and thus, whether we know it or not, engage in an argument of policy. Almost as frequently we try to persuade some one else to agree with us, and thus the argument takes definite form. Arguments of policy may be conveniently divided into two classes, according as they address themselves to the question “ Is it right ? ” or the question ‘‘ Is it expedient ? ” In a question of what is right, the argument musl!^ detach the case from the complexities and irrelevant details that obscure the real issue. It must often put 250 THE MOTHER TONGUE. aside all consideration of loss or hardship to individuals and apply itself to proving that one course of action is morally right, and that the other is morally wrong. When this moral question is settled, the argument is practically complete. It needs only a conclusion appeal- ing to the hearer’s conscience. In a question of mere expediency, we assume that both courses of action are right and maintain merely that one of them is more advantageous than the other. Here we must consider what personal interests are involved. We must show our hearers that the decision which we favor will work to their advantage, — that they will be better off, in some way, if they join our side. In such an argument, we should not lose sight of the tastes and feelings of our audience. If they are prejudiced against our cause, we must seek to remove their prejudice by tact and skill in introducing the sub- ject. If they are inclined to favor us, we must take care not to weary them or make them suspicious by unnecessary preliminaries. In either case, we must establish cordial relations with our hearers and keep their attention alive. Always put yourself in the place of your hearers. If you realize how they are likely to feel toward your case, you can the more readily show how the policy that you favor falls in with their interests and how the opposite policy is disadvantageous. Your success in persuading your audience will depend, in great part, on the skill with which you estimate their needs and interpret their feelings. An argument of policy is often strengthened by what is called “ argument from authority,” — that is. PERSUASION. 251 by citing the opinions or example of persons whom your hearers respect and admire. One very practical use of the argument of policy is in letters in which we try to persuade our correspondent to some definite action. In such a letter, we should begin by explaining clearly what the action is. Then we must show either that it is a necessary action because it is right, or that it is expedient because it is for our correspondent’s interest. Such a letter, like all arguments, should give the impression of fairness. If we appear to see only one side of a case, we expose our judgment to suspicion. If there are disadvantages in the course that we propose, we should frankly acknowledge them and then prove that they are outweighed by the advantages. We should also remember that it is our correspondent’s interest that is in question, and that we must therefore look at the proposition from his point of view. SECTION 189. PERSUASION. It follows from the definitions of the three classes of argument (Section 185) that persuasion is concerned only with arguments of policy. One should be careful in an argument of fact or of theory not to include anything which would unnecessarily antagonize a reader ; but, in the main, those arguments assume that the reader is looking for the truth, and that his feelings are not concerned. An argument of policy, on the other hand, has accomplished only a part of its aim when it has 252 THE MOTHER TONGUE. convinced its readers. If it is to have practical results, it must also move them to action. The only way to move most people to action is to stir their feelings. We all know what it is to have our reason convinced, and yet to remain indifferent to the whole subject. It is not until our feelings are enlisted that we lose this spirit of indifference and are ready to exert ourselves and make sacrifices in order to carry the matter to a conclusion. To stir the feelings of our readers by an argument we must use much the same means as in exposition, description, and narration. We must cite specific facts, and, so far as possible, we must enforce the abstract and general by illustrations and examples drawn from the reader’s own experience. A man who will be bored by a general appeal in behalf of a society for the pre- vention of cruelty to animals, will often contribute liber- ally if you describe specific cases of cruelty which you have yourself seen. Persuasiveness depends on establishing in the reader’s mind a warm and intimate connection between his interests and the policy that you advocate. Even in a question of policy, however, our arguments should appeal to the reason as well as to the feelings. A demagogue may excite his followers to inconsiderate action by playing upon their emotions, but, in the long run, reason and conscience form the only safe basis for an argument. In any case, an advocate should keep his temper. If he has confidence in his own side, the tactics of his opponent will not disturb his serenity. Anger or undue heat is commonly inter- preted as indicating a weak case, and is pretty certain to interfere with an effective presentation of the subject. THE FORM OF AN ARGUMENT. 253 SECTION 190. THE FORM OF AN ARGUMENT. One of the chief differences in form between an argu- ment and an ordinary explanation is that, in many cases, an argument does not attempt to cover the whole ground, but passes rapidly over the points in which both sides agree. A text-book on civics must explain all branches of the Federal government. An argument to prove that the members of the Cabinet should be chosen from the House of Representatives would deal merely with the executive and the legislative branch ; it need say nothing about the judiciary, for that is not concerned in the question. An argument may begin by surveying the general subject in order to introduce the point at issue and to define it accurately. Such an introduction, however, should not be too long. Having found the point at issue, we should make it clear that the decision turns on that point. Then we should stick to the point until we have explained our views and set forth our reasons for holding them. We must not be led off into irrelevant matters or ‘‘ side- issues.” Sometimes the determination of the point at issue is the gist of the whole argument ; for, when this is prop- erly defined and illustrated, you may be able to show that most of the considerations urged by the other side are not pertinent. In many cases, too, when you have freed this main point from all obscurities and irrelevant side-issues it becomes evident that only one decision is 254 THE MOTHER TONGUE. possible. At any rate, there can be no profitable discus- sion till the point at issue is cleared up and recognized as such by both parties. Confusion or lack of agreement on the point at issue is extremely common among untrained reasoners. We have all heard men wrangle endlessly over a question when it was clear to any unprejudiced listener that they were really talking about different things. Ignorance of the point ’’ makes all argument futile. The principles of arrangement that we have learned in our study of explanation apply equally well to the struc- ture of an argument. Every division of the subject should be clearly marked, and transition should receive particular attention. The conclusion should usually be a rapid summing-up of the points that have been made. It is particularly important to leave these firmly fixed in the hearer’s mind. SECTION 191. REFUTATION. An argument should not neglect the points made, or likely to be made, by the other side. It should contro- vert them, discredit them, or show that they are irrele- vant. The part of the argument in which this is done is called the refutation. In an argument of fact, the refutation may show the impossi- bility of some fact which is iniportant to the other side. Thus Lincoln once disproved the testimony of a witness that he saw a certain murder committed by moonlight, by sending for an almanac and pointing out that there was no moon at that time. DEBATES. 255 In an argument of theory, the refutation may adduce facts that cannot be explained by the opposing theory ; or it may expose fallacies in the reasoning. In an argument of policy, the refutation may designate partic- ular evils or disadvantages that would result from the policy of the other side ; or it may contend that the policy is inconsistent with other well-established principles, that it overlooks important interests, or that it contravenes established rights. The refutation should always be adapted to both the actual and the possible arguments of the other side. Where it shall come in, and how, must be decided in each case by tact and shrewdness. Sometimes it is formally introduced ; at other times it is brought in casually, as if it were of slight consequence. If we are to be followed by our opponent, it becomes necessary to guess at his arguments, and, under these circumstances, we must be careful not to “give him points.” If our oppo- nent precedes, we must not pass over any of his points without attention. SECTION 192. DEBATES. The most profitable subjects for debate are questions of policy. Questions of fact commonly need the evidence of witnesses ; questions of theory or principle are likely to be too abstruse for most audiences ; and neither of these classes of argument affords an opportunity for persuasiveness. Questions of policy, on the other hand, include innumer- able questions which are intelligible and interesting to a 266 THE MOTHER TONGUE. great variety of persons ; and they call into play both the reasoning powers of the debaters and their persua- sive skill. In preparing for a debate, the first thing is to make sure that you have a debatable question. To be profitably debatable a question must be one on which reasonable men may differ. It would be absurd to debate the question whether treason is wicked or not ; for no sensible man would take the negative. On the other hand, whether correspondence with rebels in a specific case is treason or not may be a highly debatable question, to be settled both on grounds of public expediency and of law. Again, granted the definition of treason, it was a question of fact, to be determined by evidence and argument, whether Aaron Burr was guilty of certain specific acts that were admittedly treasonable. Further, questions which turn on personal taste are not to be debated with any profit. Such are most questions of preference between books and authors, comparisons between different races or nations, between different games, and so on. Indeed, many of the questions on which we argue amicably with our friends furnish poor material for a formal debate. When you have found a debatable question, state it carefully, so that the issue between the affirmative and the negative is clear. A debate in which one side does not face the other squarely is a waste of time. ‘‘ The United States should withdraw from the Philippines ’’ is a vague proposition, on which the negative and the affirmative may never meet ; for the affirmative may take it to mean a withdrawal in the distant future, and the negative an immediate withdrawal. DEBATES. 257 Thus the two sides would be arguing different questions. On the other hand, The United States should withdraw from the Philippines at once,” or “ as soon as peace is established,” would be an excellent subject for debate. The proposition, then, must be so definitely stated that both sides may confront each other squarely on the same issue, understood in the same way. In many cases, the mere statement of the issue calls for much thought and a thorough understanding of the subject. In the debate itself you must not be satisfied with stating the arguments on your own side. You must be quick to grasp the arguments of your opponents and to meet them in the rebuttal. This refutation will test your knowledge of the subject and your ready command of your knowledge. In an argument on the retention of the Philippines, if the affirmative were to urge the richness of the island and the oppor- tunities for profitable commerce, the negative might take the ground that the affirmative had not produced figures to prove the richness, and that the people of a tropical climate have few wants for commerce to supply. Readiness to meet your opponent on his own ground not only shows skill in the art of debate, but is in itself evidence of the strength of your own case. We should take heed, however, not to dwell too" seriously on the arguments of the other side. In this way an unskilful disputant may even succeed in arguing against himself. If we venture to make light of adverse arguments, we must do so with delicacy, and avoid even the appearance of browbeating or unfairness. 258 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 193. BRIEFS FOR ARGUMENTS. I. Proposition. — The streets of this city should be kept clean. [Argument addressed to the city government.] 1. Travellers coming to the city are unfavorably impressed by a. Rough and unpaved thoroughfares. h. Mudholes in spring and autumn * c. Filth and rubbish accumulating in the gutters. (In each case cite specific instances, naming the street.) 2. Business is hindered and obstructed. For — a. The delivery of goods is slow and uncertain. h. Merchants are obliged to keep more horses, and pay for extra repairs on harnesses and wagons. (Cite cases.) 3. Such streets keep business away. For — a. They make the citizens seem shiftless and unprogressive. h. They increase the cost of hauling freight to^ and from the factories. II. Proposition. — This school should observe Arbor Bay. [Argument addressed to the pupils of the school.] 1. Trees conduce to the health of a town. a. They protect passers-by from the excessive heat of the summer sun. h. They tend to keep down the dust — (a) By keeping the sun from baking the street. (h) By tempering and breaking the wind. c. Shady streets tempt people to walking and other moder- ate exercise. 2. Trees add to the beauty of a town. (Cite specific examples.) 3. There are places near the school which are bare and unat- tractive, for want of trees. (Cite specific cases, and compare with those cited in No. 2.) BRIEFS FOR ARGUMENTS. 259 III. Proposition. — A single long session of school is better for the scholars than morning and afternoon sessions. Affirmative. 1. A student can accomplish more if his time of application is not broken. For — a. It is easier to keep his attention undistracted by outside affairs. h. There is less waste of time in getting settled down to work and in breaking up. 2. A healthy boy or girl is perfectly capable of studying for five hours. a. The strain is broken — (a) By the change of subject from period to period. (h) By recess. (c) By drill or gymnastic exercises. h. Many boys and girls work all day in shops and factories. 3. The single long session leaves the afternoon free, either — a. For some special piece of outside work like a composi- tion ; or — h. For exercise and out-of-door games. Negative. 1. The single session is too long for growing boys and girls to be confined. For — They need more frequent chances to stretch their muscles, and to get into the open air. 2. Study in two shorter sessions would be more effective. For a. The pupils’ minds would be fresher. h. Work can go on at higher pressure for the shorter time. 3. Therefore, less study out of school would be necessary. 4. The time after school is long enough for games. For — It need not be broken into by home study. 5. Most people after they leave school must work all day. 260 THE MOTHER TONGUE. IV. Proposition. — A new playground is needed near this school. [Argument addressed to the city government.] 1. The pupils have now no adequate place for exercise. (Describe the neighborhood of the school.) 2. In consequence they must play, if at all, in the streets. a. Playing in the streets is inconvenient to — (a) The neighbors. (b) The passers-by. b. It is injurious to children, since — (a) It gives them no proper chance for games. (b) It tends to bring them into mischief and make them careless of other people’s convenience. 3. Games are necessary for one who is still growing. For — a. They develop the muscles. b. They make the body healthy. c. They teach self-reliance and mutual forbearance. 4. Playgrounds make for the public interest. For — a. They make the population healthy. b. They decrease petty mischief. c. They prevent crime by providing growing boys and girls with healthy amusement, and keeping them away from dangerous resorts. To THE Teacher. — For students who use this hook, any elaborate study of argument would be too advanced. They may find profitable exercise, however, in stating the pros and cons on a given question in the class, and then in writing arguments on one side or the other. Such prac- tice in making a clear statement of their views is excellent training in thought and composition. If it is desirable to have simple debates, the pupils should he trained first to select the real point at issue, and to state it clearly and without a shadow of ambiguity. Then they should prepare for the actual debate by making simple briefs in which their arguments and evidence are lucidly arranged. In the debate itself, they should he encouraged to speak with- out too great dependence on notes, and to respond readily to the points made by the other side. Part III. • PARAGRAPHS, SENTENCES, .WORDS. 261 Part III. PARAGRAPHS, SENTENCES, WORDS. SECTION 194. INTRODUCTORY. In Part II we have studied the principles of narra- tion, description, explanation, and argument. Our study, however, has dealt chiefly with the general structure of the essay or other piece of writing. We must now turn our attention to matters of detail and consider the rhetorical elements of which every composition is made up, — paragraphs, sentences, and words. ^ The principles discussed in Part III bear equally on all the forms of discourse, but their precise application depends on the nature of the subject and the manner in which it is treated. SECTION 195. PARAGRAPHS. Division into paragraphs, as we have seen, is necessary in every kind of composition.^ If you construct your paragraphs carefully, you make your writing clearer and easier to read ; if you do not, you give the reader 1 Many of the subjects discussed in Part III have been already treated, in an elementary way, in Part I. For the relation of these two Parts, see the Introduction. 2 g 0 e pp. 62 ff. 263 264 THE MOTHER TONGUE. unnecessary trouble and obscure your meaning as well. The more complicated the subject is, the more help you can give the reader by skilful paragraphing. In stories and descriptions, the paragraphs mark the natural steps of your composition ; in explanations, they indicate the successive parts into which you must divide your subject in order to explain it.^ SECTION 196. UNITY OF THE PARAGRAPH. We have learned that paragraphs should have unity The reason is, that without unity you can give no clear and connected account of your subject. If you are writing a story, you must set forth the events in natural and orderly succession. If you are explaining a sub- ject, you must have a proper place in which to put each fact, and must put it there and nowhere else. Read Macaulay's ‘‘Siege of Arcot " (pp. 350-54). The first paragraph describes the circumstances leading up to Clive's seizure of Arcot ; the second tells the swift preparations for the siege ; the third enumerates the forces of the besiegers ; the fourth tells of the weakness of the place besieged ; the fifth, of the hardships of the garrison and their faithfulness, — and so on to the end. It is obvious that the explanation could not have been so clear, and the natural progress of the story so distinct, if unity had not been carefully observed in the construction of the paragraphs. 1 See pp. 216 ff. 2 See pp. 63, 69. UNITY OF THE PARAGRAPH. 265 SECTION 197. MEANS OF SECURING UNITY. The best way to ensure unity in your paragraphs is to decide beforehand what you will put into each. If the subject with which you are dealing is simple and the para- graph is to be pretty short, jot down on paper a word or a phrase to fix the point in mind. Such a word or phrase makes a natural title for the paragraph. When, however, your paragraphs become longer, — either because the subject is more complicated, or because you are writing on a larger scale, — it is not so easy to be sure of their unity. In an explanation of baseball, for example, if you brought together into one paragraph the various topics which concern the pitcher, you would have to include some which concern the batter quite as much, — such as fair ball, base on balls, down curve, and the like. How can you decide in which paragraph these topics belong ? The simplest way is to sum up the substance of what you have to say about the pitcher in such a sentence as, The pitcher should throw the ball over the home plate at the proper height and so as to elude the batter.’' If you keep such a ‘‘ topic-sentence ” before you as you construct the paragraph, you can readily decide whether a given topic should be included or omitted. That this is a practical device you may easily prove by applying it to any good piece of explanation. In Grey’s ‘‘Kangaroo Hunt” (pp. 201-2), the successive para- graphs may be summed up in the following sentences : — (1) In the search for kangaroo the native keeps every nerve on the alert. (2) The kangaroo is easily alarmed. (3) The native shows great skill in stalking the kangaroo. 266 THE MOTHER TONGUE. In every well-written explanation, and in many narra- tives and descriptions, you can make such a summary of each paragraph in a single sentence. Moreover, when you put these sentences together, you will generally find that you have a good summary of the whole composition. Thus the authors have illustrated the old fable of ‘‘breaking the bundle of sticks ” : by taking up each part of their subject sepa- rately, they have made the whole easy to comprehend. It is often wise to make such sentences before you begin, and then to use them as a test of unity after you have written your paragraphs. It would be pedantic to insist that every paragraph should be summa- rized in a sentence ; in many cases a single word will show the unity better. In general, the paragraphs of an explanation admit more readily of being summarized in a sentence than the paragraphs of narration or pure (“literary”) description. Thus in an explanation the topic-sentences will often correspond exactly to the divisions of the plan or outline (see pp. 216-17). SECTION 198. MEANS OF INDICATING UNITY. In practice the unity of the paragraph must somehow be brought home to the reader. A simple and effectual way to accomplish this is to make the first sentence indi- cate the subject of the paragraph. This is especially true in explanations and in narratives which have an explana- tory purpose.^ Turn again to the “ Siege of Arcot.” The sentences at the beginning of the first five paragraphs are as follows : — 1 See pp. 123, 216-17. CLOSE OF THE rARAGRAPIT. 267 1. Clive was now twenty-five years old. 2. But Clive well knew that he should not be sufiered to retain undisturbed possession of his conquest. 3. The intelligence of these events was soon carried to Chunda Sahib, who, with his French allies, was besieging Trichinopoly. 4. Rajah Sahib proceeded to invest the fort of Arcot, which seemed quite incapable of sustaining a siege. 5. During fifty days the siege went on. From these five sentences you get a tolerable idea of what Macaulay was writing about, as you will easily see by comparing them with the statement of the sub- stance of the paragraphs (p. 264), or with the sentences which you made in summarizing them. He has care- fully set up sign-posts to announce the subject of each paragraph as he came to it. SECTION 199. CLOSE OF THE PARAGRAPH. We have seen that a paragraph may begin with a sentence which states, in compact form, the subject of which the paragraph is to treat. For the same reason, it is often wise to sum up the point or essence of a paragraph in the closing sentence. In ‘‘The^Siege of Arcot’’ (pp. 350-54), the last sentence of the first paragraph states the first result of Clive’s swift action ; the last sentence of the second sums up his defensive sortie ; the last sentence of the third gives the numbers and the commander of the besieging force. In each case, the essence of the paragraph is left in your mind by virtue of this clear and compact statement. 268 THE MOTHER TONGUE. When a paragraph runs to any length, it is almost always worth while thus to restate its chief point in the last sentence. This gathering together and review of the substance of the paragraph serves to clinch your reader’s understanding of what precedes. If you follow the suggestion on page 266, and write a sentence to test the unity of each paragraph, such a sentence will often serve either to open or to close the paragraph in a manner that will emphasize this unity. SECTION 200. TRANSITION. Regard for unity will do much to make your com- positions easy and pleasant to read. But unity alone will not suffice. The different portions of your essay — the several paragraphs and sentences — may observe this principle, and still be so distinct from each other that the whole will seem choppy and disjointed. To avoid this fault, it is necessary, as we have already seen (pp. 71-72), to be careful about the transition from sentence to sentence and from paragraph to paragraph. The transition from paragraph to paragraph should be so smooth that your reader will feel no break in the thought,* but merely a natural and easy step forward. This result may be accomplished in various ways. A simple and useful device is to refer by means of a pronoun or demonstrative word at the beginning of a paragraph to something in the paragraph which immediately precedes. TRANSITION. 209 Turn again to ^Macaulay's Siege of Arcot ” (pp. 350-54). In the first sentence of the second paragraph you find “ his con- quest ” ; in the third paragraph, ‘‘ these events ” ; in the fourth paragraph the first words “ Rajah Sahib ” are repeated from tlie end of the third paragraph. In the next paragraph you find “ the siege ” ; in the next, ‘‘ the place ; in the sixth, ‘‘ the fort ” ; in the seventh, the design”; in the last, ‘‘Me struggle.” In each case, the reference back to what has been mentioned before picks up the thread, and guides your thought forward without a break. Transition is often accomplished by means of a word like moreover^ notwithstanding^ hoivever^ or nevertheless ; or a phrase like in addition to^ or, on the other hand, in spite of^ or the like. Such words or phrases give you notice, as it were, how the new paragraph bears on the preceding one ; that it carries on the thought in the same direction, and adds to its force ; or that it modifies it, or perhaps counteracts its effect or refutes it. The variety of such words and phrases is very great ; but they all serve the same purpose, — to carry you smoothly and easily from one paragraph to another. When you are writing a story or a description the transitions commonly take care of themselves, for you naturally mention simple relations of time, place, or consequence, as you pass from one step to another. In explanation or argument, however, you must often begin by breaking up the subject into groups in which like topics fall together without regard to their original time or place (pp. 211-13). If, now, you leave these groups without unmis- takable signs of the relations between them, the reader must puzzle out the connection for himself. Since the whole purpose of an explanation or an argument is to make these relations evident, transition becomes of very great importance. 270 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 201. TRANSITION IN SENTENCES. The transition from sentence to sentence within the para= graph should be as smooth as that from paragraph to paragraph. In general, it is accomplished in much the same way. Observe how easily you follow the narrative in “The Siege of Arcot” (pp. 350-54). The reason is that Macaulay takes pains to carry his reader along from sentence to sentence by always making clear how the successive facts are related to each other. In the first place, he makes free use of conjunctions and connective phrases. The fifth paragraph (p. 352) contains three examples, — however, under such circumstances, and hut. The conjunction however in the third sentence shows that the facts which follow are opposed in thought to what has preceded. The phrase under such circum- stances shows, on the contrary, that the facts in this sentence must be understood in the light of what comes before. The hut, a little below, gives notice that the thought is changing again. Read the paragraph aloud, leaving out these five words only, and you will see how much they assist the reader. By their use Macaulay made it possible to pass swiftly, and without effort, from one fact to another in the successive sentences. Another way to smooth your reader’s passage from sentence to sentence is to use pronouns and demonstra- tives frequently. In the third paragraph of “The Siege of Arcot” (p. 351), every sentence after the first has a pronoun TRANSITION IN SENTENCES. 271 or a demonstrative either at or near the beginning. Now read the passage in the following form : — The intelligence of these events was soon carried to Chunda Sahib, who, with his French allies, was besieging Trichinopoly. Four thousand men, detached from his camp, immediately started for Arcot. The remains of the force lately scattered by Clive joined these four thousand. The force was strengthened by two thousand men from Yellore, and Dupleix despatched a still more important reinforcement of a hundred and fifty French soldiers from Pondicherry. Rajah Sahib, son of Chunda Sahib, com- manded the whole army, amounting to about ten thousand men. In this form the passage is much harder to read and the sense is not so readily grasped. You miss the con- stant succession of Tie and they and this^ which show you, as you come to each fresh sentence, that the new thought concerns the person or persons or things men- tioned in the sentence preceding. Such words, then, are like the transitional conjunctions which we have just studied (p. 270); for they also serve as guide-posts to direct your thought as it tries to follow the author’s meaning. Study the following paragraph from Hawthorne’s “ Golden Touch.” You will notice that each sentence is connected with what has gone before in one or another of the ways which we have been studying. Whether Midas slept as usual that night, the story does not say. Asleep or awake, however^ Ms mind was probably in the state of a child’s, to whom a beautiful new plaything has been promised in the morning. At any rate, day had hardly peeped over the hills, when King Midas was broad awake, and, stretching his arms out of bed, began to touch the objects that were within reach. 272 THE MOTHER TONGUE. He was anxious to prove whether the Golden Touch had really come, according to the stranger’s promise. So he laid his finger on a chair by the bedside, and on various other things, but was grievously disappointed to perceive that they remained of exactly the same substance as before. Indeed, he felt very much afraid that he had only dreamed about the lustrous stranger, or else that the latter had been making game of him. Aiid what a miserable affair would it be, if, after all his hopes, Midas must content him- self with what little gold he could scrape together by ordinary means, instead of creating it by a touch ! The words in italics bind the sentences together so closely that you feel ]io sudden breaks as you read, and grasp the relations between the successive facts without effort. SECTION 202. COHERENCE. If you are careful about ease and smoothness of transition between sentences, you ensure another result, which, as we have seen, is especially important in explanations. You weld the substance of each paragraph together so closely that the reader can grasp it all as a single thought. Thus you are able to deal with larger and more comprehensive ideas, and therefore to explain more complicated subjects. If, on the other hand, you jerk your reader’s mind from the substance of one sentence to that of another, without indicating the connection, your essay will leave the impression of a crude mass of unrelated facts. Even if each paragraph has unity, the reader will hardly realize the fact unless there are easy transitions as well. EXERCISES IN PARAGRAPHS. 273 SECTION 203. EXERCISES IN PARAGRAPHS. 1. Write four paragraphs on Rain in Summer from the outline in Exercise 8, p. 178. 2. Study the sequence of paragraphs in “ The Smudge ” (pp. 199-200). Write an outline of the explanation, indicating the substance of each paragraph. Observe the means by which transition is effected and coherence secured. 3. Turn back to the outlines which you prepared in studying Section 177. Use one of them as the basis of a composition, constructing your paragraphs in accordance with the outline. 4. Write two paragraphs upon the subject What I should like to do to-morrow, and why.” Prepare a topic sentence for each paragraph. 5. Turn to the explanation of the street-car transfer, as written in your note-book (p. 235). Criticise the construction of your paragraphs. Rewrite the explanation, in the light of your recent study of paragraphs. 6. Write two paragraphs, the first asking a question, and the second replying to the question. 7. Write a paragraph in which the main thought is expressed in the first sentence, and explained by the sentences which follow. 8. Write a paragraph in which the topic sentence is used at the end of the paragraph. 9. Prepare two paragraphs, contrasting the characters of two persons of whom you have read. To indicate the contrast use “ on the contrary ” in the introductory sentence of the second paragraph. 10. Prepare two paragraphs, the second explaining the effect of the action or event which the first describes. 11. Bring to the class three paragraphs that are so begun or so ended as to make clear their unity. 274 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 12. Study the transitions from paragraph to paragraph in Mrs. Carlyle’s Housekeeping ” (pp. 348-50) ; in Scott’s ‘‘ Battle of Bannockburn” (pp. 11-16); in Hawthorne’s Tangle wood Porch ” (pp. 346-8). Point out the transitional words or phrases. 13. From hooks that you have read or studied wdthin two days, make a list of words or phrases that assist in transition. 14. Write a topic sentence for each paragraph in ‘‘ The Siege of Arcot” (pp. 350-54) and ‘‘Housekeeping” (pp. 348-50). 15. Bring to the class a passage from your History (or some other book) in which the paragraphs observe the principle of unity. Sum up each paragraph in a sentence. 16. Make a list of conjunctions, conjunctive adverbs, and con- nective phrases from your reading. Bring to the class examples of sentences and paragraphs which illustrate the use of such words and phrases. 17. Bring to the class two examples of paragraphs in which it would be dilRcult to follow the thought if the conjunctions, con- junctive adverbs, and connective phrases were omitted. 18. Find examples of paragraphs in which pronouns and demonstratives show the transition from sentence to sentence. To THE Teacher. — It should he remembered in the discussion of paragraphing that usage is much less settled than in the case of words and sentences. The choice among different forms and lengths of paragraphs almost always rests on expediency. Pupils should therefore he taught to rely on their own judgment and should he trained, by frequent exercises, to a clearness of thought which will enable them to judge wisely. They should be made to see that the doctrines suggested in Sections 195-202 are valid only in so far as they are of practical service in the expression of ideas. In general, paragraphs are more formally constructed in explana- tory writing than in other kinds of composition. It is a common fault of unpractised writers to make their paragraphs too short. Sometimes, indeed, this error goes so far that each sentence stands in a paragraph by itself. It is therefore a good working rule to require the pupil to defend any of his paragraphs that contain less than three sentences, except in “written conversations.” But care should be taken not to apply the rule too strictly. In all such matters the only safe guides are common sense and a discreet regard to the circumstances and to the needs of the class or the individual. SENTENCES. 275 SECTION 204. THE STRUCTUEE OF SENTENCES. The guiding principle of sentence structure is simple : a sentence should be so constructed as to assist the reader in grasping and following the thought. This principle involves not only grammatical correctness, but also clearness, unity, and variety, which we have already studied. It likewise involves a due regard to smooth and agreeable writing and to the proper distribution of emphasis. Carelessness in any of these particulars thwarts and annoys the reader and may utterly defeat the writer’s purpose. The principle in question applies to every kind of composition, from a familiar letter to a novel, a drama, or a history. SECTION 205. WHY VARIETY IS REQUISITE.^ We have already found that variety is needed in the length and structure of sentences, not only for the sake of smoothness, but to render our meaning clear and to distribute the emphasis properly. This is true of even the simplest narration, as we learned by studying three typical examples in Part 1? ^ This section is illustrative rather than “practical” and should be so treated by the teacher. It connects what has already been learned about variety with the more detailed study of sentence structure in the following sections (pp. 277-300). 2 Here a rapid review of pp. 45-47, 57-58 may be needed. It should, if possible, take the form of a free class-room discussion, led by the teacher. 276 THE MOTHER TONGUE. Our study of these examples was, so to speak, from the outside. Let us now test the principle of variety in another Avay, — by looking into our own minds and observing how they work in the everyday processes of thought. An easy experiment will show that these operations are very complicated.^ ' Watch your own thoughts and you will find that, while you read these coords, there are in the background of your mind other ideas and feelings. For example, you see the white page with black marks on it ; you feel the weight of the book and the tex- ture of the cover in your hand ; you know whether the room is warm or cold; you hear noises outside, — a dog barking, a hand organ, the rumble and hum of an electric car, a footstep in the hall. These things all occupy your mind in some degree, along with the sense of what you are reading. Moreover, the very words dog barking, or electric car, may remind you of something that you did yesterday or intend to do to-morrow. All the time, too, your thoughts are busy, putting together what you read, and applying its principles to the compositions that you may have to write. As you do different things, — study, write, play games, walk or ride in the country, — the contents of your mind will be different. Sometimes they will seem to be nothing but thoughts; sometimes nothing but the sensations of the things about you; sometimes chiefly memories of things and people in the past; sometimes chiefly the desire to do something in the future. Always, 1 The purpose of this simple experiment in psychology is to enforce the inevitable connection between the processes of thought and the principles of composition. The pupil should be made to see that variety in sentence structure is not a mere trick of rhetoric, but a natural development, grow- ing out of the complexity of human thought. HOW SENTENCES DEVELOP VARIETY. 277 however, this ‘‘ stream of consciousness,” as the philoso- phers call it, will be in constant change and motion ; and, though it may sometimes seem entirely simple, it will in reality be complex, — made up, as it were, of different layers of thought and sensation. To express our thoughts clearly, then, must require great variety in the means of expression. Note down the thoughts, sensations, memories, and other ideas now passing in your mind, and arrange them, as well as you can, according to their several kinds. SECTION 206. HOW SENTENCES DEVELOP VARIETY. To express in words the varied operations of your mind, as you have observed them in Section 205, requires a large vocabulary. But that is not all, as you may readily observe in the case of a child Avho is learning to talk. Such observation’- will show at once that expres- sion requires not merely a stock of words but a consider- able variety of sentences as well. A baby who is just beginning to talk expresses his ideas by means of single words, — papa, mamma, how-woic, hot, and the like. A year later he will make simple sentences, — such as Papa comes home,” or ‘‘ Bow-wow barks ” ; for he is now old enough to combine his simple sensations into new ideas. 1 The teacher should point out that this study of the cliild’s linguistic growth is the best possible illustration of the development of language in general. Language did not come ready-made to man. It has gone through various stages, rising from simple sounds to words, and from words to short sentences, and so on to more and more elaborate forms of expression. A little explanation of this kind will enable the pupil to see the bearing of the observation that he is here called upon to make. 278 THE MOTHER TONGUE. As yet, however, the child’s ideas are of the simplest kind, and call for only the simplest sentences. In two or three years, when he has more objects to think of, and begins to appreciate their bearings on each other, he must go farther. He will say, perhaps, “ Papa comes home when he gets through work,” or ‘‘ The dog barks when he hears a noise.” In other words, he cannot now express his thoughts without using complex sentences. When he goes to school and becomes able to grasp larger and deeper ideas, he will need more ways of expressing himself. The sentences that he uses, therefore, will be more varied, and, on the whole, more complex in their structure. If they do not develop in this way, his means of expression fails to keep pace with the natural development of his mind. As he grows older the variety of his sentences must increase, and also, to a certain extent, their complexity. The whole process is one continuous history, from the earliest efforts that a baby makes to utter single words to the longest and most complicated sentence ever constructed. The main purpose of education is so to train the mind that it may be able to bring together in thought an ever increasing range of objects. But unless we have a range of expression corresponding to this larger range of ideas, we shall be much hampered in applying our thought to any practical purpose. Our range of expression depends, in great measure, on the ability to use a considerable variety of sentences. Every kind of sentence, therefore, has a direct bear- ing on the art of composition as practised by all of us in daily life. Unless you can use the various forms of sentence structure naturally and without confusion, you will express your thoughts and ideas imperfectly ; and, in consequence, you cannot make yourself as efficient in the world as you ought to be. KINDS OF SENTENCES. 279 SECTION 207.1 KINDS OF SENTENCES. Sentences, as you have learned in your study of gram- mar, may be simple, compound, or complex. Since each of these forms of the sentence gives a different turn to the thought expressed, we must now consider the special character and value of each, and how each may be made useful in writing. We have seen in Part I that skill in the construc- tion and arrangement of sentences is necessary for smoothness and emphasis.^ We now perceive that the form of the sentence helps to show the relations between the ideas. Skill in the construction of sentences, there- fore, is of direct aid in the expression of our thought ; and, on the other hand, an inappropriate form of sentence may obscure the meaning as much as a wrong word. We should train ourselves, therefore, to use different kinds of sentences until they are as thoroughly at our com- mand as our vocabulary, so that each thought will flow naturally and automatically into the mould best suited to express it.^ To THE Teacher. — If practice in composition has accompanied the pupil’s training in grammatical analysis, he will recognize the principles expressed in this section as already familiar. He should not, in any case, he allowed to suppose that he is entering upon a subject with which he has no previous acquaintance. 1 At this point it may be useful to review briefly the general subject of sentences in the grammar (see “ The Mother Tongue,” Book II, pp. 131-3, 294 if.). The review may profitably include practice in altering the arrangement of sentences, and in turning one kind of sentence into another (see pp. 47-61, above). 2 See pp. 45 ff., 57 ff. 3 See p. 289. 280 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 208. SIMPLE SENTENCES. The value of short, simple sentences in connected writ- ing consists chiefly in their power to produce empha- sis. We have seen (in the exercise on pages 45-46) that a style consisting of such sentences alone is both tiresome and uncouth. Variety is indispensable both to the reader’s comfort and to his understanding. In this variety, how^ever, simple declarative sentences have their necessary part. Read the following paragraph on ‘‘Liberty”: — Ariosto tells a pretty story of a fairy, who, by some mysterious law of her nature, was condemned to appear at certain seasons in the form of a foul and poisonous snake. Those who injured her during the period of her disguise were forever excluded from par- ticipation in the blessings which she bestowed. But to those who, in spite of her loathsome aspect, pitied and protected her, she afterwards revealed herself in the beautiful and celestial form which was natural to her, accompanied their steps, granted all their wishes, filled their houses with wealth, made them happy in love and victorious in war. Such a spirit is Liberty. At times she takes the form of a hateful reptile. She grovels, she hisses, she stings. But woe to those who in disgust shall venture to crush her ! And happy are those who, having dared to receive her in her degraded and frightful shape, shall at length be rewarded by her in the time of her beauty and her glory. Macaulay. Observe the two short, simple sentences, ‘‘Such a spirit is Liberty. At times she takes the form of a hateful reptile.” Coming, as they do, after several longer sentences, they are singularly emphatic by reason of their brevity and directness. COMPOUND SENTENCES. 281 A short, simple sentence, without many modifiers, is of great service when you wish to make an important fact or idea stand out prominently in the reader’s mind. Again, a series of short sentences is often forcible. In the sixth paragraph of Macaulay’s “ Siege of Arcot ” (p. 353), notice the series of short sentences beginning with the words Rajah Sahib. Such a series gives an effect of suspense and excitement which could be produced in no other way. There is one risk, however, in using a series of short sentences : the passage may sound disjointed or, as we say, “ jerky.” Macaulay avoids this fault with great skill. For several lines he changes the sentence structure as little as possible. In four successive short sentences he keeps our attention on Kajah Sahib, the subject of the first; and in two of them (with the longer sentence which follows) he uses the same subject (he). Thus the thought is so closely connected by means of the likeness in struc- ture that the series of short sentences does not seem disjointed. To THE Teacher. — In this section too great stress should not be laid on the grammatical distinction between simple and compound sentences. The difference in rhetorical effect between short compound sentences and simple sentences of about the same length is often very slight. SECTION 209. THE USE OF COMPOUND SENTENCES. A compound sentence affords the simplest means of expressing two or more ideas in combination as a single idea of a more comprehensive kind. This form of sen- tence structure is, in fact, an indication to the reader that the clauses are not to be taken separately, as the 282 THE MOTHER TONGUE. expression of unrelated facts, but are to fall together in his mind as parts of a larger whole. The manner in which the clauses are joined points out their bearing on each other. If you use and to connect them, you indicate that they have the same general bearing, — that they are simply to be regarded as component parts of a larger unit. But, on the other hand, shows that the clause that follows is opposed to that which precedes. Or signifies that the clauses are alternatives ; for, that one gives the reason of the other. Finally, if you employ a colon, a semicolon, or a comma instead of a connective, you indicate merely that the ideas should be taken together, but you do not define their relation to each other. Newman’s Definition of a Gentleman ” (p. 355) illustrates the proper function of compound sentences. Here the author has to enumerate a great many qualities and habits which together make up the character that he is describ- ing, and which, in his estimation, are all of nearly equal impor- tance. Hence he uses many compound sentences ; for in such a sentence the clauses are coordinate, — that is, of equal order or rank. SECTION 210. ABUSE OF COMPOUND SENTENCES. The commonest abuse of compound sentences comes from indolence and vague thinking, and results in an intolerable sameness of style. Nothing is more tiresome and monotonous than a string of coordinate clauses loosely held together by and's. Such a style betrays the writer’s lack of dis- crimination. It shows that he distinguishes neither ABUSE OF COMPOUND SENTENCES. 283 the comparative importance of the statements that he makes nor their logical relation to each other in the expression of his thought. An extreme instance of this abuse is the slovenly habit, in telling a story, of tacking all the sentences together with The same fault is illustrated, in a less degree, by the trick of writing in isolated compound sentences, each consisting of two clauses joined by this same conjunction. Read the following passage from an essay on the system of training crews at a large university : — Gradually the candidates are rounded into form and those having greater aptitude show greater and. greater improvement. The most elementary work is over and now it becomes necessary to devote more attention to each man personally. The class is yet very large and this can be done only by weeding out the ones that are most backward. No preference is shown and any man showing up well will be retained. The method is entirely competitive and every one is given an equal chance. Here we have ten consecutive statements, uniformly arranged in coordinated j)airs. The passage is so monot- onous and uninteresting that it is hard to keep the mind awake while we read it. Further, the ill-judged coordination obscures the two points that the writer is endeavoring to make : (1) that the system leads to a gradual selection of the best men, and (2) that in this selection every one has a fair chance. The passage might be rewritten as follows : — Gradually, as the elementary work is over and the candidates are rounded into form, those who have greater aptitude show greater and greater improvement. It now becomes necessary to devote more attention to each man personally ; but, since the 284 THE MOTHER TONGUE. class is still very large, this can be done only by weeding ont those who are most backward. Since the method is entirely competitive and no preference is shown, any man who promises well is retained. Every one has an equal chance. In this new form no attempt has been made to strike out the repetitions, and few changes have been made in the feeble wording of the original; but now the two main points stand out conspicuously. As you read the passage, you grasp its meaning without effort ; for the statements are so arranged by means of the sentence structure that the important facts cannot fail to catch the attention. All the facts in a series are seldom of equal impor- tance : one may give the time or the place of another ; it may indicate a cause, a condition, a concession, and so on. In such cases, the coordinate structure obscures the actual relation of the facts and disguises their com- parative importance. Compositions in which such unthinking coordination predominates exemplify the adage, “ Easy writing, hard reading ” ; for they give the reader trouble which the writer ought to have taken himself. Always consider how the thoughts which you wish to express are related to each other, and let the mean- ing govern your choice between compound and complex sentences. If one thought depends upon the other, the chances are that some form of complex sentence will afford an easy means of suggesting this relation. To THE Teacher. — Pupils should not be allowed to think that coordi- nation is a rhetorical fault. They should he led to distinguish between cases in which this structure best expresses the thought and those in which it represents no thought at all. COMPLEX SENTENCES. 285 SECTION 211. COMPLEX SENTENCES. Thought is not a simple process. The experiment on page 276 has shown us that the idea on which our attention is fixed at a given moment is always accom- panied and followed by other ideas which color or modify it. The relations among these ideas are often so complicated that simple and even compound sentences provide no adequate means of expressing them. Yet they must be expressed. Hence language, adapting itself to the ever-growing complexity of thought, has wrought out the complex sentence. Compare a young child and a trained naturalist engaged in observing the same occurrence. The child sees the main act and is content with expressing it in a simple sentence, — My cat caught a rat.” The man of science notes mai^ other significant details. In the build of the cat, in its manner of crouching and swishing its tail, in the stripes of its fur, in the way in which its claws are hidden in the cushions, he detects its relation to the other feline animals, — such as the lion, the tiger, and the panther. His thought is therefore far more complicated than the child’s, and accordingly his expression of that thought requires a complex sentence. He might say, perhaps, Since the cat belongs to the feline race, it crouches and springs when it catches a rat ” ; or. The cat, as it crouches beside the rat hole, shows the same instinct that prompts a tiger to hide in the jungle near a spring to which the deer come to drink.” If the naturalist had only simple or compound sentences to use, he would find it well-nigh impossible to indicate the relations between the various facts as they lie in his mind. “ The cat 286 THE MOTHER TONGUE. crouches by the rat hole ; the tiger crouches by a spring in the jungle ; the deer come to the spring to drink ; the cat and the tiger have the same instinct ” would be a ludicrously insufficient expression of the thought which he wishes to convey. The history of language is much like the history of a child learning to talk (see p. 277). In both cases, the order of development is from simple sentences to com- pound, and from compound sentences to complex. The growth is natural, not artificial. The development of sentence structure has simply kept pace with the devel- opment of the human intellect. In this process of linguistic development, the numerous subordinating words (relative pronouns, relative adverbs, and subordinate conjunctions) have acquired their pres- ent functions. The variety of these words and their manifold use show how essential the complex sentence has become in the expression of thought. Your study of grammar has already made you acquainted with the different kinds of subordinate clauses and with the ideas that they convey. The pronoun, adverb, or conjunction that introduces the subordinate clauses serves, in each case, as a kind of sign-post to point the way which the reader’s mind is to take. Thus, because indicates that the subordinate clause that follows gives the cause or reason of the statement made in the main clause ; in order that suggests purpose ; though, concession ; if, condition, and so on. To THE Teacher. — If the necessary details with regard to the nature and form of subordinate clauses are not fresh in the pupil’s mind, a review of the grammar may be necessary at this point. (See “ The Mother Tongue,” Book II, pp. 294-310.) EMPHASIS IN COMPLEX SENTENCES. 287 SECTION 212. EMPHASIS IN COMPLEX SENTENCES. Emphasis may be indicated by the structure of a complex sentence. Contrast the following sentences : — The constitution was adopted by all the states, and Washington was elected president. After the constitution was adopted by all the states, Washing- ton was elected president. The constitution was adopted by all the states before Washing- ton was elected president. The first sentence is compound ; the second and third are complex. In the first, there is no distinction of emphasis between the two clauses. In the second, the emphasis is thrown on the election of W ashington ; in the third, on the adoption of the constitution. Thus, by the change of a single word, it is possible to throw one or another statement into stronger relief. Observe that in each case it is the main clause on which the emphasis naturally rests. If you try to count the pickets in a fence, your eye will soon become confused and you will lose your place.” So it is difficult to keep the attention fixed in reading a passage which consists of coordinate clauses of about the same length and emphasis. In writing, therefore, take care to make the important statements stand out among the less important. This you may often accomplish by means of the complex sentence. 288 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 213. CHAINS OF RELATIVES. English is fond of relative constructions, and there is, in grammatical theory, no limit to the number of rela- tive clauses that a complex sentence may include. In practice, however, we must take care not to multiply such clauses excessively. A long chain of relatives (as in “The House that Jack Built”) gives a sentence the air of running on forever because it does not know where to stop. Unity is pretty sure to be violated. The effect is not only ungraceful but extremely confusing, and may even become ridiculous, as the intention is in the nursery tale just mentioned. Find a chain of relatives in one of your own compo- sitions, and see if you cannot improve the style by breaking up the complex sentence. SECTION 214. VARIETY. The thoughts and feelings which we have to express vary infinitely. Hence our sentences, if they are to reproduce these thoughts and feelings with an approach to accuracy and completeness, must show a correspond- ing variety. For this purpose, we have at our disposal three kinds of sentences, simple, compound, and complex ; and each of these, as we have already learned, may VARIETY. 289 vary considerably both in length and in structure. Our style, therefore, need never be monotonous unless our processes of thought are stiff-jointed and mechanical. Read Hawthorne’s Tanglewood Porch ” (pp. 346-8) and notice the ease and the variety of his sentences. Some are long, others short. In some, the meaning is held in suspense until the last word is reached; in others, there is a suc- cession of clauses and phrases, after any one of which you could stop without injuring the sense. Some of them ramble on in the most natural way ; others lead up to an important word at the end. Everywhere we find ease, grace, and flexibility of expression. The charm of Hawthorne’s style consists, in great part, in the adaptation of sentence structure to every turn of thought and fancy. There is no apparent striv- ing after variety for its own sake. In fact, however, such ease and grace are not attained, even by the great writers, without a long apprenticeship to the art of composition. Before Hawthorne could trust his pen to follow his mind through all its ‘‘ forthrights and meanders,” he had to familiarize himself, by constant practice, with the almost infinite possibilities of the Eng- lish sentence. This done, he commanded his phrases and sentences as a violinist commands his wrist and fingers in playing his instrument. To THE Teacher. — Reference has already been made to Franklin’s education as a writer (p. 9). For further evidence of the pains and trouble which distinguished authors have had to take in learning how to express themselves, see Swift’s “Works,” edited by Scott, Vol. XV, p. 252; Trevelyan’s “ Life and Letters of Lord Macaulay,” New York, 1898, Vol. II, pp. 191-201; Stevenson’s essay entitled “A College Magazine,” in his “Memories and Portraits”; Darwin’s “Life and Letters,” New York, 1887, Vol. I, p. 80. The passage in Darwin is interesting with respect to the method of arranging an exifianation. 290 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 215. ANTITHESIS. The possibilities of variety in the English sentence are almost infinite. Certain types of arrangement, how- ever, are so marked and so generally useful that they deserve special notice. Antithesis (that is, ‘‘opposition”) is a contrast between different ideas or thoughts, whether these are expressed in single words or in groups of words. The antithesis is often emphasized by putting the contrasted words, phrases, or clauses in the same relative position in the sentence, — that is, by parallelism of arrangement. Thus, — Talent is power, tact is skill ; talent is weight, tact is momen- tum. Talent knows what to do, tact knows how to do it ; talent makes a man respectable, tact will make him respected ; talent is wealth, tact is ready money. Here the difference between talent and tact is made evident almost as much by the structure of the sentence as by the anti- thetical words. Skilful use of antithesis produces an effect of epigram- matic pungency ; excess of it, an effect of shallow cleverness. Study the following examples of antithesis, and observe whether there is also a parallelism of arrangement. 1. I am the last of noble Edward’s sons. Of whom thy father, prince of Wales, was first. In war, was never lion raged more fierce ; In peace, was never gentle lamb more mild. 2. If all the year were i3laying holidays. To sport would be as tedious as to work. ANTITHESIS. 291 3. See the same man in vigor, in the gout ; Alone, in company ; in place, or out ; Early at business, and at hazard late ; Mad at a fox-chase, wise at a debate. 4. Tom struts a soldier, open, bold and brave ; Will sneaks a scrivener, an exceeding knave. 5. Between excess and famine lies a mean ; Plain, but not sordid ; though not splendid, clean. 6. Not to go back, is somewhat to advance ; And men must walk at least before they dance. 7. And what is fame? The meanest have their day. The greatest can but blaze, and pass away. 8. No porter guards the passage of your door. To admit the wealthy and exclude the poor ; But God, who gave the riches, gave the heart To sanctify the whole by giving part. 9. In taking revenge, a man is but even with his enemy ; but in passing it over, he is superior. 10. Costly followers are not to be liked ; lest, while a man maketh his train longer, he make his wings shorter. 11. A man is but an ill husband of his honor that entereth into any action the failing wherein may disgrace him more than the carrying of it through can honor him. 12. Envy, which is the canker of honor, is best extinguished by declaring a man’s self in his ends rather to seek merit than fame, and by attributing a man’s successes rather to divine provi- dence and felicity than to his own virtue or policy. 13. Read not to contradict and confute, nor to believe and take for granted, nor to find talk and discourse, but to weigh and consider. Observe that, as antithesis does not require parallelism in arrangement, so parallelism does not imply antithesis. This fact is sufficiently illustrated by the sentences on page 59. 292 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 216. BALANCED SENTENCES. Balance is of the same nature as antithesis, except that it dhes not necessarily imply a comparison or contrast. Two phrases or clauses are balanced when they have the same construction and are of about the same length. Thus, — It is good also not to try experiments in states, except the necessity be urgent, or the utility evident; and well to beware that it be the reformation that draweth on the change, and not the desire of change that pretendeth the reformation. — Bacon. Here, in the first clause, the necessity he urgent is balanced by the utility evident ; in the second clause, the reformation that draweth on the change is balanced by the desire of change that pretendeth the reformation ; and the whole of the second clause balances the whole of the first. The ideas are thus reinforced and their rela- tions emphasized by the sound of the sentence. At the same time, it may be noted, the two parts of the second clause are in antithesis. Compare the following passage from Johnson: — Every one must, in the walks of life, have met with men of whom all speak with censure, though they are not chargeable with any crime, and whom none can be persuaded to love, though a reason can scarcely be assigned why they should be hated. Antithesis and balance tend to dignity of style, and are therefore common in serious essays and in orations, as well as in poetry. Their excessive use, however, results in a formal and stilted diction. Examine the sentences on pages 290-91, and observe how many of them show the balanced structure. CLIMAX. 293 SECTION 217, CLIMAX. Climax is a method of construction by which words, phrases, clauses, or sentences are arranged in the order of their importance or emphasis, the most important or emphatic coming last. Thus in Bacon's famous sentence, Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested," the second kind of books is clearly more important than the first, and the third is strongly emphasized by being mentioned after the other two. A climax should proceed in a regular ascending series ; there must be no falling off in the emphasis at any point. Thus, if Bacon's sentence is so transposed as to read, ‘‘ A few books are to be chewed and digested, some to be tasted, others to be swallowed," the point will be obscured or lost altogether. In general, at least three words or clauses are neces- sary to produce a climax. Observe the climax in each of the following passages : 1. Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan. And ghosts did shriek and squeal about the streets. 2. If thou dost bend, and pray, and fawn for him, I spurn thee like a cur out of my way. 3. Say, I feared Csesar, honored him, and loved him. 4. Thy palate then did deign The roughest berry on the rudest hedge ; Yea, like the stag when snow the pasture sheets. The barks of trees thou browsed' st ; on the Alps, It is reported, thou didst eat strange flesh. Which some did die to look on. 294 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 6. How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world. 6. I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood. Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres. Thy knotted and combined locks to part. And each particular hair to stand on end Like quills upon the fretful porpentine. 7. The steed is vanished from the stall; No serf is seen in Hassan’s hall; The lonely spider’s thin gray pall Waves slowly widening o’er the wall. 8. It was that fatal and perfidious bark. Built in th’ eclipse, and rigged with curses dark. That sunk so low that sacred head of thine. 9. He was too much employed to observe the company, who, by nods, winks, shrugs, and stifled laughter, testified every mark of contempt. The method of the climax may also govern the structure of a whole composition, as we have already learned in the case of stories (see p. 134). An arrangement in which the least important member of a series comes last is called an anticlimax, — that is, a ‘‘climax reversed.” It is a common rhetorical fault, but may be utilized occasionally to produce a comic or satirical effect. Thus, — The very knocker filled his soul with dread. As if it had a living lion’s mouth. With teeth so terrible, and tongue so red. In which he had engaged to put his head. The bell-pull turned his courage into vapor. As though ’t would cause a shower-bath to shed Its thousand shocks, to make him sigh and caper, — He looked askance, and did not like the scraper. — Hood. PARALLEL STRUCTURE. 295 SECTION 218. PARALLEL STRUCTURE. We have already seen that parallel structure is an important element in the balanced sentence and that it adds point to antithesis. Climax may likewise involve this structure (see the sentences on pages 293-4). Parallel structure in a number of successive sentences is useful when several facts are to be stated which all make to the same end or effect. Newman’s ‘‘Descrip- tion of a Gentleman” (pp. 355-56) affords numerous examples. Compare also the following passages : — In that spot, then very secluded, [Sir William] Temple j^assed the remainder of his life. The air agreed with him. The soil was fruitful, and well suited to an experimental farmer and gardener. The grounds were laid out with the angular regularity which Sir William had admired in the flower beds of Haarlem and the Hague. — Macaulay. Sir, during that state of things. Parliament was not idle. They attempted to subdue the fierce spirit of the Welsh by all sorts of rigorous laws. They prohibited by statute the sending of all arms into Wales, as you prohibit by proclamation (with something more of doubt on the legality) the sending of arms to America. They disarmed the Welsh by statute, as you attempted (but still with more doubt on the legality) to disarm New Eng- land by an instruction. They made an act to drag offenders from Wales into England for trial, as you have done (but with more hardship) with regard to America. They made acts to restrain trade as you do; and they prevented the Welsh from the use of fairs and markets, as you do the Americans from fisheries and foreign ports. In short, when the statute-book was not quite so much swelled as it is now, you find no less than fifteen acts of penal regulation on the subject of Wales. — Burke. 296 THE MOTHER TONGUE. If the parallel structure is too long continued, or if it is employed when the several facts are not strictly parallel in meaning, it produces an effect of monotony and pov- erty of thought. When properly used, it enhances not only perspicuity, but also expressiveness of style. To THE Teacher. — It is to be noted that antithesis, balance, climax, and parallel structure are not mutually exclusive terms. They may all apply to the same passage, and it is therefore unwise to insist on hair- splitting distinctions. Antithesis is abundantly exemplified in Bacon’s “ Essays ” and Johnson’s “ Lives of the Poets ” (see especially the famous parallel between Dry den and Pope at the end of the “Life of Pope”). Macaulay is fond of parallel structure and climax. Stevenson’s writings are characterized by constant use of subtle balance. The pupil should notice that style grows more formal as these qualities become more obviously frequent. SECTION 219. PERIODIC SENTENCES. Sometimes the different parts of our thought are so various, and yet so intimately related, that, without a complex sentence, which knits together the different strands by means of subordinate clauses, participial phrases, and similar modifiers, we should find it impos- sible to bring our meaning to an adequate expression. At other times, our ideas take shape one by one, in orderly sequence, but without combining or much affecting each other, and accordingly our sentences fall naturally into the compound structure, and their parts are held together by coordinate conjunctions. In the former case, the sense and the grammatical con- struction may be so suspended that neither is complete until the last word of the sentence is reached. Such a PERIODIC SENTENCES. 297 sentence is said to be periodic. In tlie latter case, we can stop at one or more points before we come to the end, and the sentence is still grammatically complete. Such a sentence is said to be loose. The same distinc- tion is made in the structure of individual clauses. The first sentence in the last paragraph but one is periodic, the second is loose. It is important to remark that the adjective loose in this sense is merely a technical term describing a variety of sentence structure. It carries no suggestion of reproach. Loose sentences are just as proper as periodic sentences. In fact, the natural tendency of our lan- guage is particularly favorable to them, as the natural tendency of Latin is favorable to the periodic structure. Comparatively few English sentences are periodic throughout, though many are partly so and single clauses are often built on the periodic plan. Excessive periodicity is stilted; excessive looseness is slovenly. The best style is that which adapts the form of the sentences easily and spontaneously to the character of the thought expressed. Examine the following passage from Thackeray’s “Pendennis”: — ‘Shortly after Strong had quitted the room, and whilst Mr. Pen, greatly irate at his downfall in the waltz, which made him look ridiculous in the eyes of the nation, and by Miss Amory’s behavior to him, which had still further insulted his dignity, was endeavoring to get some coolness of body and temper by looking out of window towards the sea, which was sparkling in the distance, and murmuring in a wonderful calm, — whilst he was really trying to compose himself, and owning to himself, perhaps, that he had acted in a very absurd and peevish manner during the 298 THE MOTHEK TONGUE. night, — he felt a hand on his shoulder : and, on looking round, beheld to his utter surprise and horror, that the hand in question belonged to Monsieur Mirobolant, whose eyes were glaring out of his pale face and ringlets at Mr. Pen. To be tapped on the shoulder by a French cook was a piece of familiarity which made the blood of the Pendennises to boil up in the veins of their descendant, and he was astounded, almost more than enraged, at such an indignity. The first sentence in this passage is periodic as far as a hand on his shoulder. The author, wishing us to comprehend Pen’s frame of mind at the moment when Mirobolant ventured to be familiar, does not allow our minds to close the thought until he has brought together all the details which contributed to that frame of mind. The rest of the sentence is looser in structure. The second sen- tence is partly periodic and partly loose. Both are excellent, and neither is better than the other. An excellent specimen of a loose sentence may be taken from the same page of Pendennis.” The consequences are that I will fling you out of window, you impudent scoundrel,” bawled out Mr. Pen : and darting upon the Frenchman, he would very likely have put his threat into execu- tion, for the window was at hand, and the artist by no means a match foFthe young gentleman — had not Captain Broadfoot and another heavy officer flung themselves between the combatants, — had not the ladies begun to scream, — had not the Addle stopped, — had not the crowd of people come running in that direction, — had not Laura, with a face of great alarm, looked over their heads and asked for Heaven’s sake what was wrong, — had not the opportune Strong made his appearance from the refreshment - room, and found Alcide grinding his teeth and jabbering oaths in his Gascon French, and Pen looking uncommonly wicked, although trying to appear as calm as possible when the ladies and the crowd came up. PUNCTUATIOX. 299 Here the long succession of clauses, added one after another, is well adapted to express the swift succession of events. In this sentence, then, the loose structure is preferable to the periodic. To THE Teacher. — In discussing this subject it will be necessary to put the pupil on his guard against the erroneous notion that a loose sen- tence is a bad sentence, or indicative of looseness of thought. The term is an unfortunate one, but is fixed in the technical vocabulary of rhetoric. The pupil should notice how prevalent loose sentences are in the very best authors, and may learn by experiment that strictly periodic sentences are correspondingly rare. Modern English style tends distinctly toward moderate “ looseness ” and away from elaborate periodicity. SECTION 220. PUXCTUATIOX. Punctuation is a device for indicating to the eye the pauses and the modulations of the voice which do so much to make spoken language intelligible and expres- sive.^ It is an imperfect device, to be sure, for no sys- tem of ‘‘points” can represent the infinite variety of these phenomena ; but, such as it is, it assists the reader considerably and must therefore be carefully attended to. See if you can make sense out of the following- passage : — Thought and speech are inseparable from each other matter and expression are parts of one style is a thinking out into lan- guage this is what I have been laying down and this is literature not things not the verbal symbols of things not on the other hand mere words but thoughts expressed in language. 1 For the rules of punctuation, see Appendix. 300 THE MOTHER TONGUE. Now read the same passage, properly punctuated, as it came from the hand of the author (Newman), and you will appreciate the usefulness of punctuation. Thought and speech are inseparable from each other. Matter and expression are parts of one : style is a thinking out into lan- guage. This is what I have been laying down, and this is litera- ture; not things, not the verbal symbols of things; not on the other hand mere words; but thoughts expressed in language. Punctuation, you observe, indicates the natural group- ing of the words into phrases, clauses, and sentences, and this grouping is an essential part of the expression of thought. The most important mark of punctuation is the period, since we need particularly to know where a sentence ends. Yeb as the passage from Newman shows, the colon and the semicolon are of great utility in marking the natural divisions of the thought within the limits of a single sentence. The semicolon, indeed, is often quite as effective as a conjunction. In the following sentence from Stevenson the first two semicolons make conjunctions between the clauses unnecessary : — I had all my first pains ; my throat was so sore I could scarce swallow ; I had a fit of strong shuddering, which clucked my teeth together; and there came on me that dreadful sense of illness for which we have no name either in Scotch or English. You should form the habit of punctuating your sen- tences as you write, in order to make them more easily intelligible. If you try to imagine how each sentence would sound if you were speaking, you will do this almost unconsciously. EXERCISES IN SENTENCES. 301 SECTION 221. EXERCISES IN SENTENCES. 1. Study the sentences in The Country in Winter (p. 161). a. Observe the variety in sentence structure. h. See if you can find any short emphatic sentences, c. Try to express the thought of the third paragraph in simple sentences only. Note the effect. 2. Select two complex sentences from The Battle of Bannock- burn ’’ (p. 11). Vary the emphasis by rearranging the modifiers in different ways. In each case state the effect of the change. 3. Review pp. 48-56. Study the sentences in these exercises, with a view not merely to the form and the grammatical con- struction but to the change in the shade of thought or of emphasis expressed by each change of structure. To THE Teacher. — This exercise is not intended merely as a review. The pupil should now be ready to scrutinize the sentences in question in a maturer and more philosophical way and to see more clearly the connection of their form with the relations of thought which they express. Addi- tional exercises may be based on “ The Siege of Arcot ” (pp. 350-4). The amount of time devoted to work of this kind will depend on the condition of the class. Constant practice will habituate them to the use of different forms of the sentence. The correction of each other’s essays will assist them to perceive and appreciate the adaptation of form to thought. The purpose of this training should be made clear to the pupils. They should understand that these exercises are not mere classroom drill, but that they have a practical bearing on the art of composition. 4. Bring to the class twelve examples of different kinds of subordinate clauses. Show how the statements in the subordinate clauses are related to those in the main clauses ; and explain the force of the subor- dinating connective in each sentence. 5. Rewrite the sentences, indicating the relations between the clauses without the use of subordinating connectives. Compare them with the original sentences. 302 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 6. Make as complete a list as you can of the different ways in which a clause may be subordinated. 7. Pick out a dozen complex sentences in which the subordi- nate clauses are introduced in different ways and stand in different parts of the sentence. 8. Write a series of statements on (1) swimming, (2) Wash- ington, (3) your school. Combine each series into a set of (1) compound sentences of various forms; and (2) complex sentences of various forms. Study the difference in effect. 9. Review the compositions in your notebook, criticising par- ticularly the complex and the compound sentences, in accordance with the principles stated in Sections 209-13. 10. Rewrite the sentences on your school into a series consist- ing chiefly of complex sentences, in which the principal clauses shall contain the statements which concern the school. Write a second series in which the principal clauses shall chiefly contain the statements that concern the pupils. Compare the effect of the two sets of sentences. ' 11. Study the sentences in the following paragraph. Observe the variety in structure. Do you find examples of loose sentences ? periodic ? The little army was formed into three divisions, of which the centre, or ‘‘battle,’’ as it was called, was led by the general. The suburbs were thronged with a countless multitude of the natives, who had flocked from the city and surrounding country to witness the showy, and, to them, startling pageant. All looked with eager curiosity on the strangers, the fame of whose terrible exploits had spread to the remotest parts of the empire. They gazed with astonishment on their dazzling arms and fair complex- ions, which seemed to proclaim them the true Children of the Sun ; and they listened with feelings of mysterious dread, as the trumpet sent forth its prolonged notes through the streets of the capital, and the solid ground shook under the heavy tramp of the cavalry. — Prescott. CHOICE OF WORDS. 303 . SECTION 222. V CHOICE OF WORDS. When all is said and done, it is the choice and use of words that determines whether or not we succeed in express- ing our thoughts and feelings clearly and adequately. Good paragraphing makes our writing easy to follow, and variety of sentences is indispensable when we get beyond the very simplest ideas ; but, unless we choose our words skilfully and use them accurately, we cannot explain any subject, no matter how well we understand it, nor can we convey to our readers our impressions about what interests us, however vivid they may be in our own minds. For composition, in the last analysis, is a matter of words. The larger our vocabulary is, the more likely we are to succeed in expressing ourselves adequately. We have seen that the stream of thoughts and sensations that is always passing through our minds is extremely complex and that it shifts and changes incessantly (p. 276). If you watch this ‘‘stream of consciousness,” and notice how rapidly one idea slips over into another, or combines with it to form a third which is different from either, you will wonder that even the largest dictionary can hold words enough to express such an unending variety of conceptions. In itself, however, a word is merely a conventional group of sounds, and in writing it is symbolized by a conventional group of peculiarly shaped marks. There is no essential connection, in the nature of things, between the word and the object which it signifies; 304 THE MOTHER TONGUE. horse is no better name for the animal in question than the Latin equus^ the French cheval^ the German Pferd^ or the Spanish cahallo. It is only the general agree- ment of those who speak and write the language that gives to the particular combination of sounds its defi- nite meaning, or to the particular combination of marks its power to represent the sounds. If, therefore, we are to use words in such a way as will convey to other people our own thoughts and feelings, we must conform to that general usage which settles the force and meaning of every word in the language. SECTION 223. THE STANDARD OF USAGE. Usage governs language. There is no other standard. By usage, however, is meant the practice of the best writers and speakers, not merely the habits of the community in which we chance to live. This requirement of conformity to good usage is not an arbitrary law, imposed upon us by some power from without. We speak and write in order to be under- stood ; and it is only common sense to employ such words as are in general use, and to employ them in the meanings that are habitually assigned to them by educated persons. If we neglect this principle, we may defeat our purpose in writing; for only by fol- lowing it can we make sure that the reader will gather from our words the thoughts that we intend them to convey. MODERN USAGE. 305 Moreover, disregard of good usage will expose us to the suspicion of illiteracy. To speak and write correctly is the most generally recognized test of education. No matter how cultivated a man is, if he expresses himself in a way that most people regard as slovenly and inaccurate, he will be set down as deficient in elementary knowl- edge ; and this judgment will be passed upon him not only by all educated people, but by others as well. As in conduct, so in language, many persons who are care- less themselves, are quick to detect and condemn the slips of their associates. Finally, English is what is called a literary language, — that is, it has been used for centuries in the expres- sion of thought by a long line of writers of genius and culture. This great body of literature, together with the language in which it is expressed, is our inheritance, and, like every inheritance, it imposes a duty as well as confers a privilege. It is not merely our language that we speak ; it is the language of Shakspere and Milton and Burke and Webster. We may use it freely, for it is our own ; but we should not use it unworthily. SECTION 224. MODERN USAGE. Language is constantly changing. Yet it changes so gradually that it may be regarded as fixed for the life- time of any one writer. The usage to which we must conform, therefore, is that of our own time. We cannot justify a violation of modern usage by quoting Shakspere, any more than Shakspere, if he had infringed on the 306 THE MOTHER TONGUE. usage of his day, could have defended himself by quot- ing Chaucer. Plainly, therefore, our standard of expression must be the practice of good writers and speakers of the present day. One further caution is necessary. No writer, how- ever eminent, is free from faults. Even Homer,” says the proverb, ‘‘ is now and then caught napping.” Besides, a great author may take liberties with his mother tongue which we cannot venture to imitate. The mere fact that a word or a meaning occurs in one or two good writers is not enough to justify us in adopting it. The usage which we follow should be general, not peculiar. For convenience, we may sum up our practical stand- ard of linguistic correctness in a single sentence : — Good use is the general practice of reputable writers of the present day. There are, of course, varieties of usage, even among good authors, so that it is not always possible to pro- nounce one of two words or meanings correct and the other incorrect. In some cases, too, there is room for a difference of opinion as to the admissibility of a particu- lar expression. But in a language like English, which has been written and studied for so many centuries, all the main facts and principles are settled. Disputes about this or that detail do not affect the general uni- formity of the standard.! In cases of doubt, the wise course for the young writer is plain : he will naturally prefer, in language, as in manners or morals, to be on the safe side. If, as he gains experience, he discovers that he has imposed 1 Compare what is said of grammatical principles in “ The Mother Tongue,” Book II, p. xvi. WORDS NOT IN GOOD USE. 307 unreasonable restrictions on his liberty of choice, he can easily revise his standards in the direction of greater freedom. It is harder to reform bad habits than to improve good ones. The facts of good usage are to be learned only from an extensive and intimate acquaintance with literature. Grammars, dictionaries, and rhetorics do not establish the standard; they are authoritative in so far only as they correctly record the results of a study of the best writers. The oral testimony of a man of learning may be of more value, in a matter of detail to which he has given special attention, than the printed say-so of forty grammars and a dozen rhetorics. The student must of course depend for the most part on his text-books and on works of reference; but he should remember that a person who is not an authority does not become so by printing his opinions in a book. SECTION 225. WORDS NOT IN GOOD USE. Every language contains a large stock of words that are not in good prose use.^ Among these may be mentioned archaisms (or obsolete words), pompous or “big” words which have never become current, foreign words not yet naturalized, technical terms appropriate only in special treatises, colloquialisms improper in serious writing, pro- vincialisms or dialect words, and slang. Archaisms are common in poetry, and the same is true of maw other words that would be pompous or affected in prjfee (p. 308). Colloquialisms are proper enough in ordinary conversation (see p. 310) and technical words in technical writing (see p. 326). Foreign words, provin- cialisms, and slang require particular discussion. /• 1 That is, in good use as defined in Section 224. 308 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 226. POETICAL LANGUAGE. The language of poetry differs greatly from that of prose. In particular, it ;uakes use of archaic (that is, old) forms, words, and phrases, and it abounds in unusual terms and in figures of speech. It is also freer than prose in changing the usual order of words, whether for emphasis or for some special poetic effect. Read the poetical selections in this book ^ and note the words, phrases, and constructions which you would not expect to find in ordinary prose. A young writer should be careful not to imitate the peculiarities of poetry in his prose compositions. The style should be appropriate to the matter and the occa- sion. Excessively florid or flowery ” diction is a common fault of young and ambitious authors. SECTION 227. FOREIGN WORDS. English has borrowed extensively from foreign lan- guages, often with no change in the word.^ Thus, for example, we have from the Latin, cancer, circus, inertia, stupor, squalor, rebus, innuendo, er'rata, inm, gladiolus, simile, stamen, folio, administrator; from the Greek, acme, atlas, pathos, chaos, aster crisis, lexicon, skeleton, phlox ; from the French, belle, ^ See especially the Appendix on Prosody. 2 Except sometimes in pronunciation. FOREIGN WORDS. 309 chandelier, dame, police, figure, nature, - prestige, grace, jargon, glacier, role, mauve ; from the Italian, canto, dilettante, lava, maca- roni, villa, piano, loggia, piazza, fiasco ; from the Spanish, mosquito, negro, merino, canon, siesta; from the German, gneiss, landau, meerschaum, zinc. All these words, and countless others, though of foreign origin, have become so naturalized that they are as good English as if they had been members of our linguistic community ever since the days of King Alfred. Hospitality to foreign words is one of the fixed habits of our language, and new terms are constantly applying for admission. Yet it is manifestly unwise to interlard our English writing with words and phrases that are still felt as foreign. For, in the first place, such terms may be unintelligible to our readers, and, in the second place, their extensive use is an affectation, like ‘‘putting on airs” in company. When we are tempted to employ a French or a Latin word or phrase that has not yet become an accepted part of the English vocabulary, we should ask ourselves if there is not some English expression (native or naturalized) that will answer. Commonly, we shall find such an expression if we look for it ; but, if our language furnishes no satisfactory equivalent, we may be forced to use the foreign term. A foreign word wliicli has not yet been admitted into the English vocabulary is sometimes called a barbarism. The term is convenient, hut not very appropriate. It is of little utility to set up the dogma that “ bar- barisms are bad English.” Their continual use is to be avoided, not because they are bad English, but because they savor of affectation and may not be generally understood. 310 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 228. COLLOQUIAL LANGUAGE AND SLANG. The language that we write will always differ some- what from the language that we speak. Colloquial English (that is, the language of ordinary conversation) admits niany words, phrases, forms, and constructions which would be out of place in serious composition.^ The distinction is important, though frequently over- looked in estimating the correctness of a word or phrase. Written language is expected to be more careful and exact than spoken language. The requirement is only reasonable. When we talk, the expression of our thoughts is aided by gesture, by stress or emphasis of the voice, and by oral inflections or modulations^; in writing, we have none of these at our command. Moreover, when we converse with anybody, he forms his opinion of us not only from what we say, but also from our appearance, our manners, and the quality of our voices. He is therefore less likely than a reader to misjudge us or to misinterpret our words. Hence, though conversational language should not be slangy or slipshod, it may properly enough take liberties that written composition must avoid. Slang, from its very nature, can never be in good use. Whenever a slang term becomes reputable, it ceases to be slang. Moh^ banter^ hoax^ bore (in the sense of to weary)^ gerrymander were once slang terms, but have 1 Compare “ The Mother Tongue,” Book II, p. xxii. 2 For some of the means which writers use to reproduce these effects, see pp. 57-59, 279-81, 287, 290-4, 299. COLLOQUIAL LANGUAGE AND SLANG. 311 worked their way first into the colloquial vocabulary and then into the language of books. Most slang, however, has no such good fortune. The reasons for avoiding slang are plain enough. In the first place, slang changes with great rapidity, both in its words and in the meanings they bear. It is too unstable and evanescent to serve the purposes of record- ing one’s thoughts. Secondly, the habitual use of a slang word starves out a number of nicely discriminated synonyms. If we call everything that we like stunning^ — from a good dinner to a fine poem, — we ignore a multitude of far more expressive adjectives which would indicate with precision our thought or feeling in a great variety of circumstances. Slang words are seldom specific ; they are the lazy man’s substitute for the mental exertion involved in thinking up the terms that really express his thought. Hence their use tends to weaken our power of discrimination and to enervate our minds. Finally, almost all slang is vulgar, — either in its origin or in its associations. Its habitual use is taken as a sign of low breeding or of affected rowdiness. This is in itself a sufficient reason for avoiding it. Provincialisms and dialect words should not be confused with slang. They are not the idle and fantastic coinages of the moment, but, in most cases, old words or mean- ings that have either gone out of use except in a limited district or have never come into general use. They differ greatly in respectability, some of them being well established in colloquial speech while others are seldom heard from educated people. The reason for avoiding them is that they are not universally intelligible. 312 THE MOTHER TONGUE. Examples of provincial or dialect words are the following : — calaboose^ ruination, pernickety, sunup ; guess, expect, calculate, reckon, and allow in the sense of think or suppose; right smart; clever for good-natured ; tell him good-bye for hid him good- bye ” ; raised for reared (of persons) ; red up for clear up ; 'tarnal for very great ; ridiculous for ahominahle or outrageous ; all over for everywhere ; some place for somewhere ; ‘‘ I am through ” for “ I have finished ’’ ; do he for he ; tuckered for tired out ; “ some pretty ” for ‘‘ somewhat pretty ’’ ; pie plant for rliuharh ; spider for frying pan.^ SECTION 229. GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF CHOICE. Within the limits of good usage, and in every case controlled by it, there are four great principles which should guide us in the choice of words, — correctness, precision, appropriateness, and expressiveness. Correctness is the most elementary of all requirements. The meanings of words are settled by usage. If we use a word incorrectly, — that is, in a sense which does not customarily belong to it, — our readers will miss our thought, or, at best, they must arrive at it by inference or guesswork. In the second place, we must fit our words as exactly and precisely as possible to the thoughts which we wish to express. We may write correctly enough and still, by neglecting precision, so blur or obscure our meaning by vague or ambiguous language as to leave the reader with a very indistinct impression of the thought that we desire to convey. 1 For the use of dialect in stories, see p. 138. GENERAL PRINCIFLES OF CHOICE. 313 In the third place, our words must be appropriate to the subject and the occasion. Otherwise, no matter how cor- rect they are, or how precisely we fit them to our mean- ing, they will fail to produce the effect that we intend. Finally, our words must be expressive. They may be correctly used, they may set forth our meaning pre- cisely, they may be appropriate to the occasion ; and yet, after all, they may be so dull and lifeless as to leave the reader uninterested and unmoved. If words are really to serve our purpose, they must express the color and vividness of our feelings about the subject that we are treating. W e shall study these four principles — correctness, pre- cision, appropriateness, and expressiveness — in the sections that follow. Meantime, a few concrete examples will make their bearing evident. 1. Correctness. — • A man’s vocation is his calling,” his ‘‘ occu- pation ” ; his avocation^ on the contrary, is that which calls him away from his regular business,” as music in the case of a lawyer, or baseball in the case of a college student. It is correct, then, to say: The business of his life is politics; he makes literature an avocation.^' If, now, we use avocation for vocation, we violate the principle of correctness, and run the risk of being understood in a sense that is directly opposite to what we intend to say.^ 2. Precision. — Suppose we wish to set forth the thought Shakspere is a great poet,'' and, through carelessness, say merely “ Shakspere is a great writer." We have violated no principle of correctness ; what we say is good English and in every way unassailable in itself. Yet it does not express with precision the idea that was in our mind. 1 The use of avocation for vocation is gaining ground, hut good writers commonly avoid it. In the plural, however, avocations has established itself in the sense of “regular and habitual pursuits.” 314 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 3. Appropriateness. — Suppose you wished to tell a child what he would like in Alice in Wonderland. You would not think of remarking that he would find it an entertaining volume ” or replete with humor. So, on the other hand, if you were writ- ing an essay on “ Books that I have Enjoyed,” for graduation day at your school, you would not say that ‘‘Alice in Wonderland” is “very funny.” All the words in question are correctly and precisely used ; yet they would, in each case, be inappropriate to the occasion and the audience, and hence they would distort the effect that you intended to produce. 4. Expressiveness. — We must consider not only whether a word is adapted to convey our precise meaning to a definite audience on a particular occasion, but also whether it expresses our feelings about the subject. Compare “I wished to find my father” with “ I could not rest till I found him.” The former sentence is good English in every respect, but it is too cool and colorless to suggest the eager excitement of an anxious search. In studying the four great principles of choice, we observe that only the first involves the question of right and wrong. The others deal with questions of discrimination between better and worse, — that is, with the closer adaptation of words to the thoughts and feelings which we undertake to express. Further, it is only in dealing with the first principle (correctness) that we can keep our attention entirely on the single word. A vague noun may be made precise by means of an adjective ; the tone of the whole com- position determines the appropriateness of each word that it contains ; the expressiveness of a phrase is often different from the sum of the expressiveness of the single words that compose it. Clearly, then, correctness stands on a different footing from the other three principles of choice. CORRECTNESS. 315 SECTION 230. CORRECTNESS. As soon as we begin to study the principle of correct- ness in the use of words, we notice that there is one class of words which we are in little danger of misemploy- ing. Every one knows what such terms as hread^ cTiair^ awkward^ quicks hark^ jump^ telephone mean, and can use them accurately. These specific terms, if only we are familiar with the subject they concern, need no definition. Contrasted with specific words are such general terms as science^ intellect^ revolution^ literature^ temperance^ affectation^ propriety. These differ from the specific words in being far less definitely limited in their appli- cation. Indeed, the varieties of meaning which each of them covers are so great that every speaker may almost be said to use them in a somewhat different sense. Compare, for example, the specific term hook with the general term literature. ‘‘ He held a hook in his hand ” calls up a clear picture in the mind. There is no danger of our misunderstand- ing the word or misusing it. Literature^ on the contrary, is an elastic term. Its meaning varies with the person and the circum- stances. To one it suggests only such works as have an estab- lished reputation for artistic form ; by another it is stretched to cover the transient harvest of the bookstalls ; a third rejects the trashy novel but admits a well-written work of science ; a fourth regards science and literature as mutually exclusive. Scott's Ivanhoe,” Bacon’s ‘‘ Essays,” Stanley’s ‘‘ In Darkest Africa,” Darwin’s ‘‘Voyage of the Beagle,” Winsor’s “ History of America,” Whately’s “ Logic,” Bryce’s “ American Commonwealth,” and Dr. Doyle’s “ Hound of the Baskervilles ” are all hooks, — nobody 316 THE MOTHER TONGUE. can dispute that ; but how many of them belong to literature ? To this question a hundred different persons might give a hun- dred different answers. Consider how men’s opinions differ as to the honesty of a par- ticular transaction, the propriety of this or that line of conduct, the wit or wisdom of some remark that they hear or read. Half our lives is spent in balancing and discussing the applicability of such general terms to specific acts or objects. Obviously, then, there is ample opportunity for error in the use of general words, since it is so difficult to fix the bounds of their correct use. Such error may con- sist either in stretching their sense beyond what good usage has prescribed, or in limiting it too rigidly in accordance with some prejudice or pedantic whim. Attention, knowledge of good literature, and clear thinking are requisite if we are to avoid the pitfalls that beset the use of general terms. Such terms are necessary in the expression of thought. Inaccuracy in their employment, however, is fatal to perspicuity and debilitating to the mind. SECTION 231. TECHNICAL TERMS. Every special subject or department of study — as law, medicine, carpentry, engineering, or rhetoric — has its own vocabulary of technical terms. Within the limits of the subject in question, every such term has a rigidly defined sense, which cannot be disregarded without a gross violation of correctness. Many of these terms, however, get into everyday use, and these are sure to lose some of their technical accuracy. Sometimes this TECHNICAL TERMS. 317 vaguer or less scientific use becomes established in the language ; sometimes it does not. Here, as everywhere else, there is no standard but good usage. Thus federal, in constitutional law, distinguishes the powers and attributes of a common government that is established by a union or federation of states. In common parlance, however, it may signify ‘‘pertaining to the United States.” Both meanings are correct, for both are sanctioned by good usage ; we should be careful not to confuse the two or to employ one of them in a con- text that suggests or demands the other. Again, intellectual, in psychology, distinguishes the thinking or reasoning faculties of the mind from the senses, emotions, and instincts. In ordinary language, however, it is sometimes care- lessly used as a synonym for learned. This looser sense has some authority, but, if not positively incorrect, is generally avoided by discriminating writers. Other examples of technical words and phrases that have become more or less popular and require especial care for their accurate use are evolution, survival of the fittest, original sin, total depravity, unearned increment, metaphysical, psychology, critical, demur, estop, eliminate, hypothecate, trust (in the commercial sense), currency, philology, democratic, aristocracy, handicap, microbe, verdict, plead, melody, sociology, vivisection, clarify, fallacy, sophistry, syllogism, logical, organic, affiliate, degenerate, dynamic, entail. To use such words correctly in their wider application, we must know something of their original and technical meaning. Otherwise we may employ them so errone- ously or incongruously as to obscure our thought instead of illuminating it. In law, a man is said to be estopped from a declaration or act when some former act or statement of his own is inconsistent with it. Therefore to say, “ The mayor estopped the aldermen from acting,” is incorrect and absurd. On the other hand, it would be 318 THE MOTHER TONGUE. proper to say that the action of the aldermen last February estops them from proceeding with their present plan.” To THE Teacher. — The distinction between specific and general words should not be pushed too far. It may be worth while to point out to the pupils that a word like man is specific as compared with animal^ but general as compared with a proper noun like Washington. The ordinary rhetorical sense of specific and general is far less exact than the logical or philosophical use. In rhetoric, specific is almost synonymous with concrete^ and general or collective often nearly coterminous with abstract. In like manner, we must not insist too strictly on the technical meanings of words drawn from the sciences. Such a word, as we have seen, often establishes itself in good usage in a new or more extended signification. SECTION 232. PRECISION. The principle of precision (p. 313) guides us in fitting our words definitely and exactly to the thought that we wish to express. Here we are no longer dealing with questions of right and wrong in language, but rather with matters of expediency. We must ask ourselves not merely, ‘‘ Is the word good English ? ” but ‘‘ Does it precisely express the thought that I have in mind ? ” Regard for precision often requires the use of a specific rather than a general word. If we say animal when we mean dog, or tree when we mean elm, or use picture for portrait, savage for Indian, apple for greening, Jisli for trout, disagreeable for ill-tempered, building for statehouse, we are violating the principle of precision. On the other hand, if our thought is general, — as of course it often must be, — a general word expresses our meaning more precisely than a specific word. PRECISION. 319 So, if we mean animal, or tree, or picture, or savage, or apple, rather than dog, or elm, or portrait, or Indian, or greening, — that is, if we really wish to express a general rather than a specific idea, — precision requires that we should use the general word. Similarly, legislature is less specific than the Senate and the House of Representatives or the Lords and Commons, But if we say, ‘‘A legislature is ill-adapted to executive functions,” legislature expresses our meaning with entire precision. Indeed, there are many words and phrases whose virtue consists in their large inclusiveness. Existence,, super- natural, the nature of things, knowledge of the universe, the eternal verities are the precise expressions of certain comprehensive ideas which no specific terms can denote. For most of us, however, there is more danger of using a general term where a specific word would serve the purpose better, than of using a specific for a gen- eral word. The word move will fill the grammatical place of hop, run, walk, slide, jolt, sprawl, and a host of other verbs. If our thought is sluggish or sleepy, it is easier to use the general word move than to call up the specific word which adds to the general idea the precise idea of the particular kind of motion meant. To THE Teacher. — One of the commonest of rhetorical faults is the expression (or half-expression) of specific ideas in general terms. The teacher, therefore, is constantly obliged to change a general word to a specific in correcting the pupils’ essays, and must emphasize incessantly the advantages of specific language. Hence beginners sometimes get the odd notion that specific words are in themselves better than general words, and are therefore always to be preferred. This misapprehension confuses them extremely, since every page that they read and every conversation that they hear illustrates its falsity. Particular pains should therefore be taken to make the true principle clear and to point out its practical appli- cation. The precise word or phrase is the word or phrase which expresses the exact idea precisely ; it will be specific or general according as the idea itself is specific or general. 320 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 233. AIDS TO PRECISION. It is a great help to the exact understanding and the precise use of words to know their derivation. Many of our general words come from the Latin, and in such cases the Latin meaning is often more concrete or more picturesque than the English. Almost all English and American writers of distinction have had some acquaint- ance with Latin, and have used these borrowed terms with a keen sense of their original meaning. Such a feeling for derivation is a distinct aid to precision. Determine means literally “ to mark off the boundaries (com- pare terminus') ; prospect, ‘‘ a look ahead ” ; satisfaction, doing enough’’; doctrine, ‘‘teaching”; eradicate, “to root out”; deter, “ to frighten away ” ; apprehend, “ to catch hold of ” ; magnanimous, “ great-souled ” ; complicated, “folded together”; introduce, “to lead in”; diffuse, “poured apart,” “scattered.” It should be remembered, however, that most of these borrowed words have changed their signification more or less in English. We must therefore take care not to make our style fantastic or unintelligible by adhering too closely to the Latin meaning. To THE Teacher. — The study of derivations may be made practical by attaching it directly to the correction of the pupils’ essays. If a pupil uses a word vaguely or incongruously, he may be sent to the Dictionary to discover its original sense and to trace its development in English; but he should be warned against the inference that the English meaning is necessarily settled or limited by the Latin signification. Pupils who know no Latin are at a disadvantage in writing English. French, however, will be of some assistance. AIDS TO PRECISION. 321 A number of words that illustrate the importance of etymological study are here noted as examples: — anticipate^ surreptitious^ convince^ dilapi- dated, secure, ponder, fiscal, redound, equivocation, edify, solution, sine- cure, discuss, collateral, circumstance, depend, consent, oblivion, martial, insult, reluctant, transfix, pretext, abstract, insinuate, exposition, explana- tion, repulsion, redeem, subtraction, torture, tradition, conclusion, innuendo, exaggeration, aggravation, obvious, superannuated, negative, disturbance, implication, supercilious, encourage (compare dishearten), real, science, reveal (compare revelation), jeopardy, adventure, agreeable, engagement, feature. For a study of the English vocabulary, with special reference to development of meanings, see “ Words and their Ways in English Speech ” by J. B. Greenough and G. L. Kittredge. Precision is not altogether a matter of single words. If a word is too general to express our exact meaning, we may often make it precise by means of a modifier. Thus, <‘The president was elected for a second term” may apply to any one of several presidents of the United States, not to speak of presidents of societies and corporations. “ The president of the United States'' is more precise, and ‘‘the first president of the United States” can refer to Washington alone. In this case we are dealing with adjective modifiers ; but the same principle holds of adverbs, adverbial phrases, and adverbial clauses.^ Precision requires not only an exact and thorough knowledge of the subject on which we write, but the command of an extensive vocabulary and the power to discriminate nicely between the meanings of words. As we advance in experience and education, we learn to distinguish more and more sharply among objects and ideas, and consequently we feel an ever-increasing need for precision in expressing our thoughts. If our ideas are blurred and muddy, we can get along without it ; if they are clear and distinctly outlined, our language must be precise if it is to represent them accurately. 1 Compare “ The Mother Tongue,” Book II, pp. 37-38. 322 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 234. APPROPRIATENESS. The third great principle in choosing words is appro- priateness. Even if our words are used correctly and express our meaning with precision, they will fail of their purpose unless they are appropriate to the subject, to the occasion, and to the reader’s understanding. If we ‘‘talk over the heads of our hearers,” they will not listen. If we resort to an affected simplicity, they will feel offended or contemptuous. If our language is slangy, or slipshod, or over-colloquial, they will doubt our sin- cerity or our appreciation of the subject. We must “ put ourselves in the place ” of our readers, for this is the only sure guide to appropriateness. In writing about simple and familiar things we should use simple words. We should not, as Dr. Johnson said, “ make little fishes talk like whales.” Novelists often ridicule the habit of using pompous or “big’’ words. Thus George Eliot, in Middlernarch,” makes Mr. Turnbull, the auctioneer, say, “ O yes, anybody may ask. Any- body may interrogate. Any one may give their remarks an interrogative turn.” Mr. Micawber in ‘‘ David Copperfield ” habitually speaks in the following style : ‘‘ My dear Copperfield, this is indeed a meeting which is calculated to impress the mind with a sense of the instability and uncertainty of all human — in short, it is a most extraordinary meeting.” The familiar words in English are not all short. Pendulum, contradict, arsenic, elastic, monotonous, photographer, consequence, obstinate, and countless others came into the language as ‘‘learned words” from Latin and Greek, hut are now in everyday use. The progress of science and the spread of education are continually familiarizing us v/ith such terms and thus enlarging the vocabulary of ordinary life. APPROPRIATENESS. 323 Simple language is well suited to most explanations, and to arguments addressed to the reason alone. In such cases, any approach to a florid style seems like affectation and may even suggest insincerity. The use of simple words, however, is not limited to the familiar style. Observe the impressiveness of the following passages, — the first from Ma:cbeth,” the second from the Book of Job: — To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow Creeps in this petty pace from day to day. To the last syllable of recorded time ; And all onr yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle ! Life’s blit a walking shadow, a poor player. That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more ; it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury. Signifying nothing. In thoughts from the visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth on men, fear came upon me, and trembling, which made all my bones to shake. Then a spirit passed before my face ; the hair of my flesh stood up. It stood still, but I could not discern the form thereof : an image was before mine eyes ; there was silence, and I heard a voice, saying : “ Shall mortal man be more just than God? Shall a man be more pure than his maker ? ” These two passages contain hardly a word that is not familiar to everybody, and the simplicity of the language enhances their power. We should not underestimate the expressive value of common words merely because they serve the ordinary purposes of life. 324 THE MOTHER TONGUE. Simplicity of style, however, is not always appro- priate to the occasion. Read the following extract from W ebster’s “ First Oration on Bunker Hill Monument ” : — This uncounted multitude before me and around me proves the feeling which the occasion has excited. These thousands of human faces, glowing with sympathy and joy, and from the impulses of a common gratitude turned reverently to heaven in this spacious temple of the firmament, proclaim that the day, the place, and the purpose of our assembling have made a deep impression on our hearts. If, indeed, there be anything in local association fit to affect the mind of man, we need not strive to repress the emotions which agitate us here. We are among the sepulchres of our fathers. We are on ground distinguished by their valor, their constancy, and the shedding of their blood. We are here, not to fix an uncertain date in our annals, nor to draw into notice an obscure and unknown spot. If our humble purpose had never been conceived, if we ourselves had never been born, the 17th of June, 1775, would have been a day on which all subsequent his- tory would have poured its light, and the eminence where we stand a point of attraction to the eyes of successive generations. But we are Americans. We live in what may be called the early age of this great continent; and we know that our posterity, through all time, are here to enjoy and suffer the allotments of humanity. We see before us a probable train of great events; we know that our own fortunes have been happily cast ; and it is natural, therefore, that we should be moved by the contemplation of occurrences which have guided our destiny before many of us were born, and settled the condition in which we shall pass that portion of our existence which God allows to men on earth. Here the dignity of a great celebration called for a larger proportion of long and sonorous words than would have been appropriate on an ordinary occasion. APPROPRIATENESS. 325 Such an opening sentence as ‘‘ There are a great many of us here to-day, all full of enthusiasm, all eager to show how much we think of the day and the place,’’ would have been absurdly out of keeping. Full-sounding words and phrases like multitude^ reverently, temple of the firmament, local association fitted the solem- nity of the moment. Familiar terms were inappropriate ; what was needed was an elevated and stately vocabulary. The same principle of appropriateness which Webster followed in his oration should guide us in our choice of words. In a letter to an older person, one naturally uses a less familiar style than in a letter to a friend of one’s own age ; and a speech at graduation calls for a still more dignified vocabulary. In short, we should always consider the occasion and choose our words in accordance with its demands. SECTION 235. SPECIAL QUESTIONS OF APPROPRIATENESS. Every art, science, and craft has its special vocabulary of technical terms which are unintelligible to most out- siders (see p. 316). The same is true of many games and sports. In discussing football with a company of boys, you can safely use such terms as guard, quarter-hack, and signal in their special senses without explanation. Chamfer, dowels, and countersink are immediately clear to a carpenter ; sequelae, septiccemia, and prophylaxis to a physician ; trover, tort, and contrihutory negligence to a lawyer ; cold-swaged, gudgeon, and hevel gear to a mechanic, and so on. 326 THE MOTHER TONGUE. Technical terms are appropriate in a technical treatise addressed to a body of specialists (see p. 316), but they should be sparingly used in ordinary writings, and, when they are necessary, should be carefully defined. Many such terms, however, have become familiar parts of the ordinary vocabulary, and these may of course be used freely without definition or apology. Such are, — mortgage, attorney, injunction, oxygen, chlorine, dove- tail, mortise, insulate, dijnamo, inoculate, cauterize, and many others. Archaic words and forms are freely used in poetry (see p. 308). In prose, however, they are seldom appropri- ate, except in conversational passages that aim to pro- duce an effect of antiquity. On the same principle, colloquialisms, dialect words, slang, and bad grammar may often be found in dialogue. In all such cases, the writer’s purpose is to make his characters seem real and to throw light on their station or circumstances (see p. 138). The device is a good one; but, when overworked, it becomes exceedingly tiresome. SECTION 236. EXPRESSIVENESS. The fourth principle in the choice of words is expres- siveness. It is not enough that our language should be correct, precise, and appropriate to the subject and the occasion. It may fulfil all these requirements and still fail to move or interest the reader because our words are cold and unexpressive. EXPRESSIVENESS. 327 Repeat the simple experiment in psychology suggested on page 276, this time in order to test the capacity of your present stock of words to express all that passes in your mind. You observe not only that the stream of your thought is a surging current of ideas, sensations, and memories, but that your own ideas and feelings must of necessity be different from those of any other person. In your class, for instance, there will be, as you read these words, fifteen or twenty or fifty different shades of feeling about this lesson, about your teacher, about each of the other fifteen or twenty or fifty members of the class. These differences may be slight and unimportant in themselves. Still, it is the sum of many such minute differences in our ways of looking at things, that makes each one of us what he is as an individual. Each of us, then, has his individual feelings, his own particular attitude of mind, toward every subject on which he writes. If he is interested in the subject, his feelings will be warm and vigorous, and, in-order to communicate his interest to the reader, he must let this warmth and vigor appear in his language. In short, he must follow the principle of expressiveness. The expresssiveness of a word or phrase depends not merely on what it actually denotes, but also on its asso- ciations and on what it suggests, — that is, on the ideas and feelings which it calls up in our minds over and above its precise meaning. Thus, fist means simply ‘‘ the hand with the fingers doubled up against the palm,” but it suggests a pugilistic encounter ; scalpel suggests all that we know or have heard of surgical operations ; poniard suggests bravos and midnight assassinations ; anvil sug- gests some blacksmith's shop with which we are familiar. The associations of words vary infinitely. Sometimes they are merely personal, going back to a particular 328 THE MOTHER TONGUE. incident or experience.^ Sometimes, on the contrary, they are common to all speakers, and thus have become, to all intents and purposes, a part of the meaning which the words convey. Home, for example, is distinguished from house or residence by the associations of comfort and affection that belong to it. A moment's thought will enable you to recall many other words which suggest, in like manner, much more than they actually denote. This suggestive power of words and phrases must always be borne in mind in writing, as well as their definite sense. Otherwise we shall run the risk not only of missing their full expressiveness, but also of combining them incongruously. Expressiveness often depends not merely on a skilful choice of single words, but also on their felicitous combination in phrases and sentences. Observe the depth and intensity of feeling expressed by the italicized phrases in the following passage from Thackeray : — Remember your own young days at school, my friend — the tingling cheeks, burning ears, bursting heart, and pamon of desperate tears, with which you looked up, after having performed some blunder, whilst the Doctor held you up to public scorn before the class, and cracked his great clumsy jokes upon you — helpless and a prisoner ! Here, as often, the expressive force of the words resides in their combined power to suggest definite physical sensations which form part of the ordinary experience of every reader (see pp. 166-7). 1 Every one can think of words for which he feels a whimsical aver- sion, not because they are unpleasant in sound or meaning, but simply because they are associated in his mind with a disagreeable experience or an uncongenial person. GENERAL AND SPECIFIC WORDS. 329 SECTION 237. GENERAL AND SPECIFIC WORDS. Words differ greatly in expressiveness. Abstract terms like quality^ essence^ elevation are applicable to so many particular cases that they carry no individual sug- gestions. A preponderance of such words make one’s writing dull and neutral-tinted. More specific words, on the other hand, — like willow^ orange^ spring^ irri- table^ panther^ — are limited in their application. Con- sequently, they are surrounded by definite associations,^ and thus have the power to suggest or connote much that they do not actually say. Such words, therefore, are more vivid and expressive than general terms.^ Expressiveness, then, is enhanced by the use of specific words, and, in particular, by those which sug- gest action or feeling. The more specific a word is, the more vivid and expressive it is likely to be. << A dog ran out and barked at me,” conveys a less vivid impression than A terrier ran out and barked at me.” The word terrier instantly calls up in the reader’s mind the image of a small dog, with quick, restless movements, and a sharp, quick bark. Probably, also, he will think of a particular terrier with which he is acquainted. Dog, however, calls up a much vaguer image, for the animal may be anything from a poodle to a blood- hound. In such cases, the specific word terrier includes the mean- ing of the general term and a good deal besides. Defoe writes of Robinson Crusoe’s first attempts to make earthenware, that they produced ‘‘odd, misshapen, ugly things.”'^ 1 See p. 170, on the suggestive power of words of smell. 2 On specific and general words, see also pp. 315-16, 318-19. 3 The vague word things is used with excellent judgment, for the shape of the vessels was so uncertain that Crusoe did not know what to call them. 330 THE MOTHER TO^^GUE. This is far more vivid than if he had written that the pottery was ‘‘irregular in shape,” — a phrase which would have expressed the bare fact well enough. Ik Marvel’s description of Spring in “ Dream Life ” owes its interest and effectiveness to its vivid specific words, as in the sentence: “The old elms throw down their dingy flowers, and color their spray with green ; and the brooks where you throw your worm or the minnow, float down whole fleets of the crimson blossoms of the maple.” SECTION 238. FIGURES OF SPEECH. Expressiveness is greatly assisted by the use of figurative language. Our ordinary talk is full of figures of speech. We use them unconsciously, obeying the natural tendency to compare one thing with another that resembles it, whether in fact or in our imagination. When you speak of hammering away at your algebra,” or say that you have “ just squeezed through ” an examination in Latin, or that a date in history has slipped your mind,” you are using a figure of speech. The expressions noted are manifestly more vivid than to say that you will “ study hard at your algebra,” or that you have ^^harely passed the examination” or ^‘forgotten the date.” The general sense is the same in either case, but your language in the former instance suggests a livelier and more picturesque conception of the facts, and therefore attracts and holds the hearer’s attention more certainly. The power of an author often shows itself in noble, but spontaneous, figures of speech ; for it is the great writers who see new truths and deeper relations in the FIGURES OF SPEECH. 331 world about them which the old words will not express. Read the following passage from Bacon’s Advance- ment of Learning ” : — But the greatest error of all the rest is the mistaking or mis- placing of the last or furthest end of knowledge. For men have entered into a desire of learning and knowledge, sometimes upon a natural curiosity and inquisitive appetite ; sometimes to enter- tain their minds with variety and delight ; sometimes for ornament and reputation ; and sometimes to enable them to victory of wit and contradiction ; and most times for lucre and profession ; and seldom sincerely to give a true account of their gift of reason, to the benefit and use of men ; as if there were sought in knowledge a couch, whereupon to rest a searching and restless spirit; or a terrace, for a wandering and variable mind to walk up and down with a fair prospect ; or a tower of state, for a proud mind to raise itself upon ; or a fort or commanding ground, for strife and contention ; or a shop, for profit or sale ; and not a rich store- house, for the glory of the Creator and the relief of man’s estate. Here the splendor of the imagery is no mere embel- lishment. Without it, Bacon could not have given adequate expression to his enthusiastic appreciation of learning and his fine scorn for the unworthy uses to which it is sometimes put. At the same time, the figures elevate the passage from the ordinary levels of prose to a noble eloquence. Between such simple, unstudied figures of speech as those cited on page 330 and the loftiest heights of poetic imagery, there is no essential distinction. The difference, great as it is, is a difference not of kind but of degree. If our feelings are active, we unconsciously enliven their expression by using figures of speech ; for figurative language is natural to all men. 332 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 239. SIMILES AND METAPHORS. The most important figures of speech are the simile and the metaphor. Both of these are founded on com- parison ; they express, in different ways, our perception of the likeness between two objects or ideas. When we say ‘‘A cat is like a tiger’’ or << The cat is as fierce as a tiger,” we are making a comparison, but it is a comparison of fact, and our language is not figurative. We mean that a cat actually resembles a tiger in its appearance, habits, and disposition, and that the two creatures belong to the same order of animals. If we go one step farther and say, ‘‘ The soldier fought like a tiger,” our expression is figurative. We do not mean that the soldier fought with his teeth and nails, but that he exhibited such strength, activity, and ferocity as to remind us of a tiger. Our comparison is still expressed in the form of a likeness : but it is no longer literal; it is imaginative. We have used a simile. t'inally, we may change The soldier fought like a tiger ” into “ The soldier was a tiger in fight.” The meaning is the same ; but this time the comparison is not expressed; it is merely implied. Instead of comparing the soldier to a tiger, we have called him a tiger, — that is, we have actually applied to him the name of the animal which he resembles. Such an expression is called a metaphor. A simile, then, expresses a figurative resemblance between two objects or ideas in the form of a compari- son (usually with like or as). A metaphor indicates this resemblance by applying to one of the objects or ideas a word that literally designates the other. Every simile may be compressed into a metaphor; every metaphor may be expanded into a simile. SIMILES AND METAPHORS. 333 The following examples will illustrate the difference between these figures of speech. The first five are similes ; the rest are metaphors. Change each simile into a metaphor and each metaphor into a simile, and observe the difference in effectiveness. 1 . Like madness is the story of this life. 2. It is too rash ; too unadvised ; too sudden ; Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be Ere one can say “ It lightens.’’ 3. Your face, my thane, is as a book where men May read strange matters. 4. His power, like to a fangless lion. May offer, but not hold. 5. If we do now make our atonement well. Our peace will, like a broken limb united, Grow stronger for the breaking. 6. This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit. Which gives men stomach to digest his words With better appetite. 7. And why should Caesar be a tyrant then? Poor man ! 1 know he would not be a wolf But that he sees the Romans are but sheep : He were no lion, were not Romans hinds. 8. Lowliness is young Ambition’s ladder. Whereto the climber-upward turns his face ; But when he once attains the upmost round. He straight unto the ladder turns his back. Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees By which he did ascend. 9. Boy ! Lucius ! Fast asleep ! It is no matter ; Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber. Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies Which busy care draws in the brains of men : Therefore thou sleep’st so sound. 334 THE MOTHER TONGUE. Similes are sometimes long and elaborate, as in the following lines from Goldsmith’s “Traveller”: — As some lone miser, visiting his store, Bends at his treasure, counts, recounts it o’er ; Hoards after hoards his rising raptures fill. Yet still he sighs, for hoards are wanting still : Thus to my breast alternate passions rise. Pleased with each good that Heaven to man supplies : Yet oft a sigh prevails, and sorrows fall. To see the hoard of human bliss so small ; And oft I wish amidst the scene to find Some spot to real happiness assigned. Where my worn soul, each wandering hope at rest. May gather bliss to see my fellows blest. A metaphor, also, may be sustained and carried out to considerable length, as in the following passage from Gray’s ode on “The Progress of Poesy”: — From Helicon’s harmonious springs A thousand rills their mazy progress take : The laughing flowers that round them blow Drink life and fragrance as they flow. Now the rich stream of music winds along. Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong. Through verdant vales, and Ceres’ golden reign : Now, rolling down the steep amain. Headlong, impetuous, see it pour ; The rocks and nodding groves rebellow to the roar. A long metaphor is analogous, in its general effect, to a periodic sentence (p. 296). In both the mind of the reader is, as it were, held in suspense till the end of the passage is reached. PERSONIFICATIOX AND APOSTKOPHE. 335 Sometimes a simile and a metaphor are inextricably combined, as in the following passage from Othello”: — Like to the Pontic sea, Whose icy current and compulsive course Ne’er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on To the Propontic and the Hellespont; Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace. Shall ne’er look back, ne’er ebb to humble love. Till that a capable and wide revenge Swallow them up. Metonymy is a figure by which the name of one object is given to another, not by way of comparison (as in metaphors), but because one suggests the other by some association of facts or ideas. Examples : the knife, for surgery ; the press, for the newspapers ; crown, for royal government ; the plough, for agriculture ; a good head, for a good mind ; a troop of horse-, for a troop of horsemen ; to address the chair, for the chairman; the bench, for the judges ; to read Shakspere, for Shakspere’s works. SECTION 240. PEKSONIFICATION AND APOSTEOPHE. Personification is a figure of speech which represents (1) a lifeless object, (2) one of the lower animals, or (3) an idea, quality, or other abstraction, as a person, — that is, as capable of thought, feeling, and speech. Thus, — Thou sure and firm-set earth. Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear Thy very stones prate of my whereabout, — Shakspere. 336 THE MOTHER TONGUE. They left me then, when the gray-hooded Ev’n, Like a sad votarist in palmer's weed, Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phcebus’ wain. — Milton. Who loves not Knowledge ? Who shall rail Against her beauty ? May she mix With men and prosper ! Who shall fix Her pillars ? Let her work prevail. — Tennyson. The personification of lifeless objects is a natural tendency of the human mind, as may be seen from the talk of young children. The personification of abstract ideas is common in poetry and is the basis of all allegory. The personification of animals is per- haps a survival of a very early stage of culture when animals were regarded as capable of thought and speech. ^ It is commonest in fables. Apostrophe (that is, turning away ”) is a figure by which the writer or speaker suddenly turns aside from the course which he is pursuing and addresses some person or personified object. Thus, — What trash is Rome, What rubbish and what offal, when it serves For the base matter to illuminate So vile a thing as Caesar ! But, 0 griefs Where hast thou led me f I perhaps speak this Before a willing bondman ; then I know My answer must be made. — Shakspere. Famous examples of apostrophe are Byron’s address to the sea in “ Childe Harold,” Canto iv, stanzas 179-84 ; Cowper’s ‘‘ O winter, ruler of the inverted year ” in The Task,” Book iv ; Macbeth to the dagger in ‘‘Macbeth,” Act ii. Scene 1; “Julius Caesar,” Act ii. Scene 1, lines 77-85, and Act iii. Scene 2, lines 104-5. 1 See “ The Mother Tongue,” Book II, p. HI. FIGURES OF SPEECH. 337 SECTION 241. THE USE OF FIGURES OF SPEECH. Similes and metaphors, as we have seen, are not mere adornments of style ; they enhance the expressiveness of language. By indicating or suggesting comparisons, they make the thought clearer, and their picturesque quality stimulates the reader’s attention. We must be careful, however, not to multiply figures of speech beyond what the subject will bear. An excessively figurative, or florid,^ style is tiresome and in bad taste. Display is as objectionable in language as in dress. Far-fetched or over-ingenious figures are also to be avoided, and the same is true of those that are commonplace or hackneyed. If one’s imagination is awake, figures will suggest themselves spontaneously. If they have to be fished for, or painfully thought out, they are not likely to be worth the trouble. We should also test the accuracy and soundness of a figure before using it in composition. If the compari- son on which it depends is unreal or fantastic, the figure will darken the subject instead of illuminating it. A figure should be consistent with itself. Careless writers frequently run two or three discordant meta- phors into one, without regard to their incongruity. Thus, a headlong orator, in denouncing his opponent, once cried out, ‘‘ We must bring the viper to his knees.'' The bewil- dering maze of figures in the passage that follows was noticed in a recent newspaper: “When Mr. Hay began his work in 1899, 1 That IS flowery (see p. 308). 338 THE MOTHER TONGUE. the open door was an elusive dream. He crystallized it into form, and added to it the integrity of China, the preservation of which is now solemnly guaranteed by five great powers.” To THE Teacher. — Faulty combination of figures is a delicate sub- ject, since everybody knows that the poets mix metaphors without scruple. It is easy, however, to make a distinction. The heat of a poet’s imagina- tion may fuse two metaphors so that their original incongruity is no longer perceived ; but the mixed metaphors of unpractised writers are not of this kind. They come, not from imaginative strength, but from defective vision, — from a failure to perceive the exact meaning of the several words. Besides, great authors may take liberties which beginners cannot justly claim. SECTION 242. CONCISENESS. A vigorous style ^ is almost always concise. W e should use words enough to express our thoughts and feelings fully and clearly, but should aim at brevity in the body of our essays and should ‘‘stop when we get through.” Verbosity is the most tiresome of rhetorical faults. It is good practice to go over a passage that we have written and strike out all the words that are not essential to the thought. This process may leave the passage rough and abrupt, and unfit for presentation ; but the object lesson in conciseness will be valuable. We shall probably be surprised at the small number of words that are absolutely necessary. In many cases, the statement of one fact necessarily implies other facts, which it is superfluous to mention, except sometimes for the sake of emphasis. For example, if we say that the day 1 A vigorous style is often called nervous (from the Latin nervus^ “ sinew ”). CONCISENESS. 339 is bright,” we need not add that ‘‘the sky is blue”; and if we have said that “ the teamster beat his horses,” we may take it for granted that he was cruel. In each case the second fact is so obviously implied by the first that the reader cannot help drawing the inference for himself. In condensing, we should bear in mind the possibility of rearranging the sentences so as to bring the less important facts into subordinate clauses. Excessive brevity may result in obscurity or abrupt- ness. A telegram is typical of brevity, for it dispenses with everything but the mere skeleton of expression; but we all know that telegrams are frequently ambiguous and that they are seldom smooth or elegant in style. W e should strive to write tersely, — that is, with polished conciseness, but we should omit nothing that enriches the thought or that aids the reader’s understanding and stimulates his attention. Terse is often misused as a synonym for short or pithy. It is derived from the Latin tersus, “ polished,” and implies finish as well as conciseness. The degree of conciseness must vary with the nature of the subject and with the effect that we wish to pro- duce. A leisurely style is appropriate to certain topics and kinds of writing. Thus, — I love to search out the sunny slopes under some northern shelter where the reflected sun does double duty to the earth, and where the frail hepatica, or the faint blush of the arbutus, in the midst of the bleak March atmosphere, will touch your heart, like a hope of heaven in a field of graves. — Ik Marvel. This might be cut down to — I like the slopes protected from the north where the reflected sun brings out the hepatica and the arbutus in April. 340 THE MOTHER TONGUE. Such treatment, however, would spoil the beauty of the passage. The bare outline of the thought would alone be left ; all the sentiment and imaginative sugges- tion of the original would be destroyed. Here, again, we must be guided by the principles of appropriateness and expressiveness. The actual number of words can be determined only by the purpose of the writer. The natural tendency of the English language is to be copious and discursive. We should be on our guard, therefore, against yielding to this tendency overmuch, or on inappropriate occasions. Few writers, young or old, are in any danger of being too concise. To THE Teacher. — Verbosity is so common a fault with young writers that there is little risk of laying too much stress on conciseness. It is important, however, that the pupils should not apply the pruning knife to masterpieces of literature. They may easily be led to see that the charm of certain writers depends in large part on their leisurely but discrimi- nating diffuseness. Finally, they should learn that mere excision of redundant words does not make a style terse. Rearrangement and pol- ishing are also necessary. SECTION 243. REPETITION. Repetition is a natural tendency of language. We may often emphasize an idea, and make it clearer and easier to grasp, by presenting it from different points of view and in varying terms. Note the repetition in the following passage : — In order that a new world may step in, this world must for a time disappear. The murderers, and the murder, must be insu- lated — cut off by an immeasurable gulf from the ordinary tide REPETITION. 341 and succession of human affairs — locked up and sequestered in some deep recess; we must be made sensible that the world of ordinary life is suddenly arrested — laid asleep — tranced — racked into a dread armistice ; time must be annihilated ; relation to things without abolished ; and all must pass self -withdrawn into a deep syncope and suspension of earthly passion. De Quincey. Compare the beginning of Macbeth’s soliloquy: — If it were done when T is done, then ’t were well It were done quickly : if the assassination Could trammel up the consequence, and catch. With his surcease, success ; that but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here, — But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, — We ’d jump the life to come. — Shakspere. Here the single thought in Macbeth’s mind is, If the murder and all that it involves were done with when the blow is struck, then the sooner I killed Duncan the better.” This thought is expressed literally, in the first clause, and then is dwelt on, in varying figures of speech, till the end of the passage. Explanatory writing makes frequent use of repetition, as in the following paragraph from Matthew Arnold: — And because men are all members of one great family, and the sympathy which is in human nature will not allow one member to be indifferent to the rest, or to have a perfect welfare inde- pendent of the rest, the Expansion of our humanity, to suit the idea of perfection which culture forms, must be a General Expan- sion. Perfection, as culture conceives it, is not possible while the individual remains isolated. The individual is required, under pain of being stunted and enfeebled in his own development if he disobey, to carry others along with him in his march towards perfection, to be continually doing all he can to enlarge and increase the volume of the human stream sweeping thitherward. 342 THE MOTHER TONGUE. And here, once more, culture lays on us the same obligation as religion, which says, as Bishop Wilson has admirably put it, that to promote the kingdom of God, is to increase and hasten one’s own happiness.” The gist of the paragraph might be given in a single sentence. ‘‘ Culture in the individual cannot be separated from culture in the race.” This thought is repeated several times, with variations, until it becomes perfectly clear in its application and finds per- manent lodgement in the reader’s mind.^ Excessive and purposeless repetition is a tiresome fault. Such repetition is called tautology, — that is, “ sa3dng the same thing over again.” Common tautologous phrases are ; — funeral obsequies, kill him dead, food and sustenance, trouble and annoyance, blood and, gore, quarrelling and disputing, first beginning, final (or last) end, final outcome, new and novel, brave and daring, sure and certain, ^weak and feeble. ‘"f ' ' ■ .* ' ^ Many similar phrases are established idioms:* as, — end and aim, without let or hindrance, goods and chattels, act-arid deed^ ^r- pose or end, ways and means, over and done with, frjee and clear, safe and sound. Repetition, then, though of great utility when skilfully managed, is often a serious fault. The only test by which we can determine whether a word is actually redundant is to observe whether it can he spared without loss. Common sense prescribes that we should use only such words as are needed to produce the effect intended in each case. 1 This method of constructing a paragraph by repetition of the topic sentence in various forms is a favorite device with Matthew Arnold, who is, indeed, somewhat over-fond of it. INCREASING ONE’S VOCABULARY. 843 In such a sentence as lie fell down and jumped up again,” down and again are not redundant ; for without them the sentence lacks emphasis and expressiveness. So, in I saw it with my own eyes^’’^ the italicized phrase makes the statement more personal and forcible. On the other hand, the phrases quoted in the third paragraph on page 342 are plain examples of redundancy, for the tautologous words may be omitted without loss and with a manifest gain in vigor. Redundancy is also called pleonasm. SECTION 244. MEAN'S OF INCREASING ONE^S VOCABULARY. As our knowledge increases and we have occasion to express our thoughts on a greater variety of subjects, we feel the need of a larger stock of words to draw from. Wide and attentive reading is the best way to increase one’s vocabulary, but there are special means that assist to the same end. Some great writers have been fond of studying the Dictionary ; many people make lists of new words that they hear or come across in books. Another good plan is to find synonyms for common words (as in the exer- cises on pages 34-35). Still another is to play a kind of game in which, as you go along the street, you try to fit each house, or person, or animal that you see with an apt word or phrase. Study of a foreign language is an excellent means of enlarging one’s English vocabulary. When you look up a Latin or French or German word in your dictionary, do not rest satisfied with the first meaning you come to, or with the first that will satisfy your immediate needs. 344 THE MOTHEK TONGUE. Kead through all the meanings, so that you may get a << feeling ” for the sense of the word in question. Thus you will increase your command of the foreign language, and will add to your English vocabulary at the same time. In translating, try to find the word or phrase which best expresses the exact shade of mean- ing of the original. Note differences of idiom, and endeavor to reproduce in English the tone and style of the passage that you are. rendering. A bald and literal version misrepresents the original and is likely to be bad English as well. One thing is always necessary in the attempt to increase one’s vocabulary, and that is attention. If your mind is on the alert, every book that you read and every intelligent conversation in which you engage may add to your stock. Cultivate a quick ear and a ready eye for new words, and an intelligent curiosity about their meaning and their origin. Such an interest will do much to fix them in your mind. Whenever you make the acquaintance of a new subject, familiarize yourself with the vocabulary needed to discuss it intelligibly. Thus your vocabulary and your knowledge will always stand in a proper relation to each other. Do not enlarge your vocabulary merely for show. Add to your available stock such words as you will be likely to need. Do not let your words outrun your ideas. Be sure that you know the meaning of every word that you use, and that you know it exactly, not merely in a vague and shadowy way. No matter how many words you know or how well you know them, you will not write well unless you think clearly and get vivid impressions of the world about you. Effective use of words follows in the train of effective thought. CLEARNESS. 345 SECTION 245. CLEARNESS. Our study of composition has passed in review the different kinds of writing and has considered the special principles and methods of each, as well as the require- ments which apply to them all alike. Of all these gen- eral requirements none is of such primary importance as clearness (or perspicuity), for without this quality there can be no real expression of thought. The most serious offence against clearness is ambiguity, — that is, the use of language that may be taken in more senses than one. Ambiguity may result from an unskilful choice of words, from confusion of grammatical constructions, or from a faulty arrange- ment of the sentence. We should therefore give particular heed to our pronouns (especially Ae, it, ivho, and wliicK) and to the position of every modifying phrase or clause.^ Even when our language is not ambiguous, it may be vague, obscure, or so involved as to be difficult to follow. Unless we think clearly, we cannot write clearly ; but when our thoughts are clear, we can always express them intelligibly if we are willing to take pains enough. Hence we should criticise our own style mercilessly, revise with extreme care, and never be satisfied until we feel sure that nobody can help under- standing what we have written. When we have once learned to write clearly, the chances are that force and elegance are within our reach. At all events, we have accomplished the main end of composition as a practical art. 1 See pp. 380-1)0. 346 THE MOTHER TONGUE. SECTION 246. The extracts in Sections 246-9 afford good examples of paragraphing and of sentence structure.^ TANGLEWOOD PORCH.2 By Hawthorne. Beneath the porch of the country-seat called Tangle wood, one fine autumnal morning, was assembled a merry party of little folks, with a tall youth in the midst of them. They had planned a nutting expedition, and were impatiently waiting for the mists to roll up the hill-slopes, and for the sun to pour the warmth of the Indian summer over the fields and pastures, and into the nooks of the many-colored woods. There was a prospect of as fine a day as ever gladdened the aspect of this beautiful and comfortable world. As yet, however, the morning mist filled up the whole length and breadth of the valley, above which, on a gently sloping eminence, the mansion stood. This body of white vapor extended to within less than a hun- dred yards of the house. It completely hid everything beyond that distance, except a few ruddy or yellow tree-tops, which here and there emerged, and were glorified by the early sunshine, as was likewise the broad surface of the mist. Four or five miles off to the southward rose the summit of Monument Mountain, and seemed to be floating on a cloud. Some fifteen miles farther away, in the same direction, appeared the loftier Dome of Taconic, looking blue and indistinct, and hardly so substantial as the vapory sea that almost rolled over it. The nearer hills, which bordered the valley, were half submerged, and were specked with little cloud- wreaths all the way to their tops. On the whole, there 1 See pp. 264 ff., 270, 274, 282, 289, 295, etc. 2 From A Wouder-Book for Girls and Boys.” SELECTIONS. 347 was so much cloud, and so little solid earth, that it had the effect of a vision. The children above-mentioned, being as full of life as they could hold, kept overflowing from the porch of Tangle wood, and scampering along the gravel walk, or rushing across the dewy herbage of the lawn. I can hardly tell how many of these small people there were ; not less than nine or ten, however, no more than a dozen, of all sorts, sizes, and ages, whether girls or boys. They were brothers, sisters, and cousins, together with a few of their young acquaintances, who had been invited by Mr. and Mrs. Pringle to spend some of this delightful weather with their own children, at Tangle wood. I am afraid to tell you their names, or even to give them any names ^^hich other children have ever been called by ; because, to my certain knowledge, authors sometimes get themselves into great trouble by accidentally giving the names of real persons to the characters in their books. For this reason, I mean to call them Primrose, Periwinkle, Sweet Fern, Dandelion, Blue Eye, Clover, Huckleberry, Cowslip, Squash-blossom, Milk- weed, Plantain, and Buttercup ; although, to be sure, such titles might better suit a group of fairies than a company of earthly children. It is not to be supposed that these little folks were to be per- mitted by their careful fathers and mothers, uncles, aunts, or grandparents, to stray abroad into the woods and fields, without the guardianship of some particularly grave and elderly person. O no, indeed ! In the first sentence of my book, you will recollect that I spoke of a tall youth, standing in the midst of the children. His name — (and I shall let you know his real name, because he considers it a great honor to have told the stories that are here to be printed) — his name was Eustace Bright. He was a student at Williams College, and had reached, I think, the venerable age of eighteen years ; so that he felt quite like a grandfather towards Periwinkle, Dandelion, Huckleberry, Squash-blossom, Milkweed, and the rest, who were only half or a third as venerable as he. A trouble in his eyesight (such as many students think it necessary 348 THE MOTHER TONGUE. to have, nowadays, in order to prove their diligence at their books) had kept him from college a week or two after the beginning of the term. But, for my part, I have seldom met with a pair of eyes that looked as if they could see farther or better than those of Eustace Bright. This learned student was slender, and rather pale, as all Yankee students are ; but yet of a healthy aspect, and as light and active as if he had wings to his shoes. By the by, being much addicted to wading through streamlets and across meadows, he had put on cowhide boots for the expedition. He wore a linen blouse, a cloth cap, and a pair of green spectacles, which he had assumed, probably, less for the preservation of his eyes, than for the dignity that they imparted to his countenance. In either case, however, he might as well have let them alone ; for Huckleberry, a mischie- vous little elf, crept behind Eustace as he sat on the steps of the porch, snatched the spectacles from his nose, and clapped them on her own ; and as the student forgot to take them back, they fell oft into the grass, and lay there till the next spring. SECTION 247. HOUSEKEEPING. By Jane Welsh Carlyle. i So many talents are wasted, so many enthusiasms turned to smoke, so many lives spoiled for want of a little patience and endurance, for want of understanding and laying to heart the meaning of the Present^ — for want of recognizing that it is not the greatness or littleness of ‘‘ the duty nearest hand,’’ but the spirit in which one does it, that makes one’s doing noble or mean ! I can’t think how many people who have any natural ambition and any sense of power in them, escape going mad in a world like this without the recognition of that. I know I was very near mad 1 From a letter in Froude’s “Life of Carlyle,” Vol. I, Chap. ii. SELECTIONS. 349 when I found it out for myself (as one has to find out for one’s self everything* that is to be of any real practical use to one). Shall I tell you how it came into my head? Perhaps it may be of comfort to you in similar moments of fatigue and disgust. I had gone wdth my husband to live on a little estate of peat bog that had descended to me all the w^ay down from John Welsh, the Covenanter, who married a daughter of John Knox. That did n’t, I am ashamed to say, make me feel Craigenputtock a whit less of a peat bog, and a most dreary, untoward place to live at. In fact, it was sixteen miles distant on every side from all the conveniences of life, — shops and even post office. Further, we were very poor, and further (and worst), being an only child, and brought up to great prospects,” I was sublimely ignorant of every branch of useful knowledge, though a capital Latin scholar and very fair mathematician. It behooved me in these astonishing circumstances to learn to sew. Husbands, I was shocked to find, wore their stockings into holes, and were always losing buttons, and I was expected to look to all that.” Also it behooved me to learn to cook ! no capable servant choosing to live at such an out-of-the-way place, and my husband having bad digestion, which complicated my difficulties dreadfully. The bread, above all, brought from Dum- fries, soured on his stomach” (O heaven!), and it was plainly my duty as a Christian wife to bake at home. So I sent for Corbett’s ‘‘ Cottage Economy,” and fell to work at a loaf of bread. But, knowing nothing about the process of fermentation or the heat of ovens, it came to pass that my loaf got put into the oven at the time that myself ought to have been put into bed ; and I remained the only person not asleep in a ‘ house in the middle of a desert. One o’clock struck, and then two, and then three ; and still I was sitting there in an immense solitude, my whole body aching with weariness, my heart aching with a sense of forlornness and degradation. That I, who had been so petted at home, whose comfort had been studied by everybody in the house, who had 350 THE MOTHER TONGUE. never been required to do anything but cultivate my mind, siiould have to pass all those hours of the night in watching a loaf of bread, — which mightn’t turn out bread after all ! Such thoughts maddened me, till I laid down my head on the table and sobbed aloud. It was then that somehow the idea of Benvenuto Cellini sitting up all night watching his Perseus in the furnace came into my head, and suddenly I asked myself : After all, in the sight of the upper powers, what is the mighty difference between a statue of Perseus and a loaf of bread, so that each be the thing that one’s hand has found to do? The man’s determined will, his energy, his patience, his resource were the really admirable things, of which his statue of Perseus was the mere chance expression. If he had been a woman living at Craigenputtock, with a dyspep- tic husband, sixteen miles from a baker, and he a bad one, all these qualities would have come out more fitly in a good loaf of bread.” I cannot express what consolation this germ of an idea spread over my uncongenial life during the years we lived at that savage place, where my two immediate predecessors had gone mad, and the third had taken to drink. SECTION 248. THE SIEGE OF ARGOT. i By Macaulay. Clive was now twenty-five years old. After hesitating for some time between a military and a commercial life, he had at length been placed in a post which partook of both characters, that of commissary to the troops, with the rank of captain. The present emergency called forth all his powers. He represented to his superiors that, unless some vigorous effort were made, 1 From the essay ou “ Lord Clive.” SELECTIONS. 351 Trichinopoly would fall, the house of Anaverdy Khan would perish, and the French would become the real masters of the whole peninsula of India. It was absolutely necessary to strike some daring blow. If an attack were made on Arcot, the capital of the Carnatic, and the favorite residence of the Nabobs, it was not impossible that the siege of Trichinopoly would be raised. The heads of the English settlement, now thoroughly alarmed by the success of Dupleix, and apprehensive that, in the event of a new war between France and Great Britain, Madras would be instantly taken and destroyed, approved of Clive's plan, and intrusted the execution of it to himself. The young captain was put at the head of two hundred English soldiers, and three hun- dred sepoys, armed and disciplined after the European fashion. Of the eight officers who commanded this little force under him, only two had ever been in action, and four of the eight were factors of the Company, whom Clive’s example had induced to offer their services. The weather was stormy ; but Clive pushed on, through thunder, lightning, and rain, to the gates of Arcot. The garrison, in a panic, evacuated the fort, and the English entered it without a blow. But Clive well knew that he should not be suffered to retain undisturbed possession of his conquest. He instantly began to collect provisions, to throw up works, and to make preparations for sustaining a siege. The garrison, which had fled at his approach, had now recovered from its dismay, and, having been swollen by large reinforcements from the neighbourhood to a force of three thousand men, encamped close to the town. At dead of night, Clive marched out of the fort, attacked the camp by surprise, slew great numbers, dispersed the rest, and returned to his quarters without having lost a single man. The intelligence of these events was soon carried to Chunda Sahib, who, with his French allies, was besieging Trichinopoly. He immediately detached four thousand men from his camp, and sent them to Arcot. They were speedily joined by the remains of the force which Clive had lately scattered. They were further 352 THE MOTHER TONGUE. strengthened by two thousand men from Yellore, and by a still more important reinforcement of a hundred and fifty French soldiers whom Dupleix despatched from Pondicherry. The whole of this army, amounting to about ten thousand men, was under the command of Rajah Sahib, son of Chunda Sahib. Rajah Sahib proceeded to invest the fort of Arcot, which seemed quite incapable of sustaining a siege. The walls were ruinous, the ditches dry, the ramparts too narrow to admit the guns, the battlements too low to protect the soldiers. The little garrison had been greatly reduced by casualties. It now consisted of a hundred and twenty Europeans and two hundred sepoys. Only four officers were left ; the stock of provisions was scanty ; and the commander, who had to conduct the defence under cir- cumstances so discouraging, was a young man of five and twenty, who had been bred a book-keeper. During fifty days the siege went on. During fifty days the young captain maintained the defence, with a firmness, vigi- lance, and ability which would have done honour to the oldest marshal in Europe. The breach, however, increased day by day. The garrison began to feel the pressure of hunger. Under such circumstances, any troops so scantily provided with officers might have been expected to show signs of insubordination ; and the danger was peculiarly great in a force composed of men differing widely from each other in extraction, color, language, manners, and religion. But the devotion of the little band to its chief surpassed anything that is related of the Tenth Legion of Caesar, or of the Old Guard of Napoleon. The sepoys came to Clive, not to complain of their scanty fare, but to propose that all the grain should be given to the Europeans, who required more nourishment than the natives of Asia. The thin gruel, they said, which was strained away from the rice, w'ould suffice for them- selves. History contains no more touching instance of military fidelity, or of the inffueiice of a commanding mind. An attempt made by the government of Madras to relieve the place had failed. But there was hope from another quarter. A SELECTIONS. 353 body of six thousand Mahrattas, half soldiers, half robbers, under the command of a chief named Morari Eow, had been hired to assist Mohammed Ali ; but thinking the French power irresistible, and the triumph of Chunda Sahib certain, they had hitherto remained inactive on the frontiers of the Carnatic. The fame of the defence of Arcot roused them from their torpor. Morari Row declared that he had never before believed that Englishmen could hght, but that he would willingly help them since he saw that they had spirit to help themselves. Rajah Sahib learned that the Mahrattas were in motion. It was necessary for him to be expeditious. He first tried negotiation. He offered large bribes to Clive, which were rejected with scorn. He vowed that, if his proposals were not accepted, he would instantly storm the fort, and put every man in it to the sword. Clive told him in reply, with characteristic haughtiness, that his father was an usurper, that his army was a rabble, and that he would do well to think twice before he sent such poltroons into a breach defended by English soldiers. Rajah Sahib determined to storm the fort. The day was well suited to a bold military enterprise. It was the great Moham- medan festival which is sacred to the memory of Hosein the son of Ali. The history of Islam contains nothing more touching than the event which gave rise to that solemnity. The mournful legend relates how the chief of the Fatimites, when all his brave followers had perished round him, drank his latest draught of water, and uttered his latest prayer, how the assassins carried his head in triumph, how the tyrant smote the lifeless lips with his staff, and how a few old men recollected with tears that they had seen those lips pressed to the lips of the Prophet of God. After the lapse of near twelve centuries, the recurrence of this solemn season excites the fiercest and saddest emotions in the bosoms of the devout Moslem of India. They work themselves up to such agonies of rage and lamentation that some, it is said, have given up the ghost from the mere effect of mental excitement. They believe that whoever, during this festival, falls in arms against 854 THE MOTHER TONGUE. the infidels, atones by his death for all the sins of his life, and passes at once to the garden of the Houris. It was at this time that Rajah Sahib determined to assault Arcot. Stimulating drugs were employed to aid the effect of religious zeal, and the besiegers, drunk with enthusiasm, drunk with bang, rushed furi- ously to the attack. Clive had received secret intelligence of the design, had made his arrangements, and, exhausted by fatigue, had thrown him- self on his bed. He was awakened by the alarm, and was instantly at his post. The enemy advanced, driving before them elephants whose foreheads were armed with iron plates. It was expected that the gates would yield to the shock of these living battering-rams. But the huge beasts no sooner felt the English musket-balls than they turned round, and rushed furiously away, trampling on the multitude which had urged them forward. A raft was launched on the water which filled one part of the ditch. Clive, perceiving that his gunners at that post did not understand their business, took the management of a piece of artillery him- self, and cleared the raft in a few minutes. Where the moat was dry, the assailants mounted with great boldness ; but they were received with a fire so heavy and so well-directed, that it soon quelled the courage even of fanaticism and of intoxication. The rear ranks of the English kept the front ranks supplied with a constant succession of loaded muskets, and every shot told on the living mass below. After three desperate onsets, the besiegers retired behind the ditch. The struggle lasted about an hour. Four hundred of the assailants fell. The garrison lost only five or six men. The besieged passed an anxious night, looking for a renewal of the attack. But when day broke, the enemy were no more to be seen. They had retired, leaving to the English several guns and a large quantity of ammunition. To THE Teacher. — This selection has been used chiefly to illustrate paragraphing ; but it also affords excellent material for additional exercises in sentence structure. The perspicuity and incisiveness of Macaulay’s style will be felt by every pupil. SELECTIONS. 355 SECTION 249. THE DEFINITION OF A GENTLEMAN. i By Newman. Hence it is that it is almost a definition of a gentleman to say he is one who never inflicts pain. This description is both refined and, as far as it goes, accurate. He is mainly occupied in merely removing the obstacles which hinder the free and unembarrassed action of those about him ; and he concurs with their movements rather than takes the initiative himself. His benefits may be considered as parallel to what are called comforts or conveniences in arrangements of a personal nature : like an easy chair or a good fire, which do their part in dispelling cold and fatigue, though nature provides both means of rest and animal heat without them. The true gentleman in like manner carefully avoids whatever may cause a jar or a jolt in the minds of those with whom he is cast, — all clashing of opinion, or col- lision of feeling, all restraint, or suspicion, or gloom, or resent- ment; his great concern being to make every one at his ease and at home. He has his eyes on all his company ; he is tender towards the bashful, gentle towards the distant, and merciful towards the absurd ; he can recollect to w^hom he is speaking ; he guards against unseasonable allusions, or topics which may irritate; he is seldom prominent in conversation, and never wearisome. He makes light of favors while he does them, and seems to be receiving when he is conferring. He never speaks of himself except when compelled, never defends himself by a mere retort ; he has no ears for slander or gossip, is scrupulous in imput- ing motives to those who interfere with him, and interprets every- thing for the best. He is never mean or little in his disputes, never takes unfair advantage, never mistakes personalities or sharp sayings for arguments, or insinuates evil which he dare not 1 From “ The Idea of a University.” 356 THE MOTHER TONGUE. say out. From a long-sighted prudence, he observes the maxim of the ancient sage, that we should ever conduct ourselves towards our enemy as if he were one day to be our friend. He has too much good sense to be affronted at insults, he is too well employed to remember injuries, and too indolent to bear malice. He is patient, forbearing, and resigned, on philosophical principles ; he submits to pain, because it is inevitable, to bereavement, because it Ls irreparable, and to death, because it is his destiny. If he engages in controversy of any kind, his disciplined intel- lect preserves him from the blundering discourtesy of better, per- haps, but less educated minds ; who, like blunt weapons, tear and hack instead of cutting clean, who mistake the point in argument, waste their strength on trifles, misconceive their adversary, and leave the question more involved than they find it. He may be right or wrong in his opinion, but he is too clear-headed to be unjust; he is as simple as he is forcible, and as brief as he is decisive. Nowhere shall we find greater candor, consideration, indulgence : he throws himself into the minds of his opponents, he accounts for their mistakes. He knows the weakness of human reason as well as its strength, its province and its limits. If he be an unbeliever, he will be too profound and large- minded to ridicule religion or to act against it ; he is too wise to be a dogmatist or fanatic in his infidelity. He respects piety and devotion ; he even supports institutions as venerable, beautiful, or useful, to which he does not assent ; he honors the ministers of religion, and it contents him to decline its mysteries without assailing or denouncing them. He is a friend of religious tolera- tion, and that, not only because his philosophy has taught him to look on all forms of faith wdth an impartial eye, but also from the gentleness and effeminacy of feeling, which is the attendant on civilization. SUPPLEMENTARY EXERCISES. SUBJECTS FOR COMPOSITIONS. (1) A Page in a Diary. (2) A Day at the Lake. (3) A Half- Holiday in May. (4) My First Impressions of the High School. (5) The Character of Sir Galahad. (6) A Country Road in Spring. (7) Longfellow’s ‘^Evangeline.” (8) The Playthings of a Four-year-old. (9) How we Made our Camp. (10) How to Catch Trout. (11) The Oldest House in our Town. (12) The Destruction of St. Pierre. (13) A Bit of Human Nature. (14) Theatres in Shakspere’s Time. (15) “ Snow-Bound.” (1 6) Tom Tulliver. (17) Uriah Heep. (18) The Book I Like Best. (19) A Visit to the Farm. (20) How Sugar is Made. (21) Life on a Ranch. (22) A Winter Evening. (23) Kate’s Contribution to the Housekeeping. (24) How Robert Paid the Mortgage. (25) How a Boy may Earn his Living. (26) Three Good Rea- sons for Studying Grammar. (27) From the Oak Tree to the Library Table. (28) The Trees of our Village. (29) The Trees in the Hill Pasture. (30) Learning to Sail a Boat. (31) What the Fisherman Told me. (32) The Long Summer Vacation. (33) Why I Wish to go to College. (34) Hawthorne’s Descrip- tions of Nature. (35) The Story of a Child. (36) An American Hero. (37) The Life of an Engineer. (38) The Work which is Worth Doing. (39) How Rapid Transit Affects City Life. (40) The Advantages of Travel. The following subjects are to be assigned in advance. The pupils should prepare for the exercise by reading, observation, or study. The writing should be done in the class and should occupy 357 358 THE MOTHER TONGUE. not more than five minutes. All the pupils should write upon the same subject, and the compositions should be exchanged and criticised during the same recitation period. The composition may consist of one paragraph or of several, according to the plan of the writer. 1. What is your opinion of Maggie Tulliver? 2. Should students give any time to light reading? ' 3. Do you like the poems of Robert Burns, and why ? 4. Which attracts you more, country life or city life ? 5. Give reasons for your choice of subjects in school. 6. What kind of occupation seems most attractive to you? Give your reasons. 7. Which is of greater importance to the commonwealth, farming or manufacturing? 8. Which seems to youthehigher occupation, trade or teaching? 9. What in your opinion are the essentials of good manners ? 10. Give reasons for maintaining quiet demeanor and a digni- fied manner in public. 11. Explain one of the conjmon campaign phrases of the day. 12. Give at least five reasons for taking regular and varied out-of-door exercise. 13. What are your chief duties to your neighbor? 14. What do you understand by a prig ? a fop ? an exquisite f an epicure f The following subjects involve narration or description, or both. They are intended to be suggestive merely. (1) My Stroll on the Beach. (2) My First Hour in a Sailboat. (3) Our Valley at Sunset. (4) Looking Down from the Moun- tain. (5) The Harbor in a Fog. (6) Lost on the Prairie. (7) In Pursuit of Three Buttons and a Spool of Silk. (8) The Good Comrade in School. (9) How I Learned to Skate. (10) A Winter Morning after the Rain. (11) The Longest Way Round is the Shortest Way Home. (12) How I Wrote my First Com- position. (13) How Jack Earned his Class Pin. (14) How I took Care of my Garden. (15) The Daily Mail at Smithville. EXERCISES. 359 NAERATIOK 1. Bring to the class some story in which the introductory paragraph contains a description. 2. Carefully enumerate the items which are included in the introduction to ‘‘The Battle of Bannockburn ” (pp. 11-12). Show how the movement of the story might have been hindered by the omission of any of these items. How does this introduction differ from those which you have studied in previous exercises? 3. Find in magazines or newspapers short stories or anec- dotes introduced by a short paragraph or a single sentence : for example, “ The following story appeared in the ‘ Springfield Republican’ at the time of the spring floods,” or “Thomas Hughes relates this story of Dr. Arnold.” 4. Select from some story with which you are familiar a brief bit of narrative or conversation. Copy the selection to read in the class, and preface the extract with such introductory matter as seems to you suitable. Make the introduction as clear and concise as possible. 5. Recite one of ^sop’s fables. If the story is formally intro- duced, describe the introduction. If the writer has omitted the introduction, give reasons for the omission. 6. Write the outline of a brief anecdote, noting (1) the purpose and details of the introduction, and (2) the items to be included in the story. 7. Tell the story of Pandora. You will find the material in Hawthorne’s “Wonder-Book.” 8. Report some story of a child. Let the story include a dialogue. 9. Write an imaginary story of adventure. 10. The story of a prairie fire. — A twelve-year-old girl is left at home to care for her little sister and baby brother. The sister is at i^lay in the yard, the baby is asleep. The girl looks from the window and sees fire on the distant prairie. She has heard stories of the havoc wrought by prairie fires ; wraj^s both children 360 THE MOTHER TONGUE. in wet quilts ; mounts a horse with them ; urges him forward ; races with the fire ; and at last reaches the creek and is safe. 11. Tell the story of a practical joke. (1) Let the one who played the joke tell it, with great delight in his achievement. (2) Let the one upon whom the joke was played recite it, showing the serious consequences of the trick. (3) Let some one who has heard both sides tell the story, showing real understanding and appreciation of both sides. (4) Let some critic tell the story, blaming the joker and sympathizing with the person who suf- fered from the trick. 12. A little girl follows a hand organ. She is lost and tries to find her way home. She is met and recognized by the milk- man, who carries her with him over his route, and returns her to her home in the evening. (1) Tell the story as if it happened in the city; in the country. (2) Report the incident for a news- paper. (3) Recite the incident, placing it in the country. (4) Tell it as the milkman might rehearse it. (5) Report the child’s version of the story. (6) Tell the whole story as the child’s mother might recite it afterwards. 13. Tell the story of the combat in Matthew Arnold’s “Sohrab and Rustum.” Let your introduction explain the circumstances so that the incident shall be intelligible. 14. Select an incident from Thackeray’s ‘‘Virginians” and tell it in your own words. 15. Give a brief account of the plot of “The Merchant of Venice ” ; of “ As You Like It.” 16. Write from memory the story of one of the folio wing- selections from Hawthorne’s “Twice-Told Tales”: — “David Swan,” “ Old Esther Dudley,” “ Mr. Higginbotham’s Catastro- phe,” “ Howe’s Masquerade,” “ Lady Eleanore’s Mantle,” “ The Minister’s Black Veil.” 17. How did Robinson Crusoe become acquainted with his man Friday? Tell the story, with a brief introduction explain- ing how Robinson came to be on a desert island. 18. Write a story suggested by some incident mentioned in the Sir Roger de Coverley papers. EXERCISES. 361 DESCRIPTION. 1. Your uncle has given you a pony and cart. Write a letter to him, thanking him for his gift, and expressing your apprecia- tion of it. Write a letter to a friend, describing (1) the gift; (2) your first drive. 2. Describe a day on a farm. 3. Report a visit to a hayfield, where the men were making hay. Do not forget the landscape, the weather, the sweet odors of the field, the appearance of the passers-by. 4. Repeat Exercise 3, imagining yourself employed in ‘‘ raking after the cart.” 5. Describe a pasture in the country, — situation, character of the ground, trees, bushes, boulders, etc. Be careful not to make a mere inventory. 6. Write a description of your school yard as you see it from the window. 7. Describe your schoolhouse as seen from the street. 8. An abandoned street car, in the outskirts of the city, is set in a field and used by an eccentric old man as a house. Describe the exterior ; the interior. Describe the old man who lives in the car. 9. A fire breaks out in your hotel in the night. You are accidentally locked in your room. You hear — (what?). You smell — (what?). You see — (what?). You try to escape — (how?). You are rescued — (how?). Write a full description, maintaining your point of view. 10. Describe a quarry. If possible, visit a quarry, and make notes for your outline. Tell what you see (1) from above ; (2) from below. Be prepared to report your visit to the class, using your notes as a guide. Be careful to arrange the items of your description in proper order. 11. Describe the cover of some magazine. 362 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 12. Describe the interior of a hall or church, as if you were standing at the entrance (1) when the hall is full ; (2) when it is empty. 13. Describe some old-fashioned costume that you have seen. 14. When school is dismissed.’’ Describe the scene. Let it be at midday, in June. Write your description from the teacher’s point of view ; again, from the pupil’s side ; once more, as if you were a passer-by. 15. Write a brief description of one of the characters in the following list : — Silas Marner ; Florence Dombey ; Captain Cuttle ; Benjamin Franklin ; Lafayette ; Florence Nightingale ; Sir Roger de Coverley ; Enoch Arden ; Ellen Douglas ; Rebecca ; Ivanhoe ; the Ancient Mariner. 16. Write a description in the present tense. Imagine that you are approaching the scene described. Introduce new details as you come nearer. 17. Write a description of the country as seen from the train in which you are travelling. You will observe the marked features of the landscape, and not the details. 18. Write a description in which you suggest sounds and odors as well as the scene which you describe. 19. You climb a hill in order to observe the sunrise. The scene may be in the city or the country, in October or in June. Write the description. 20. Describe a statue with which you are familiar. If there is none in your immediate neighborhood, write the description from a picture. 21. Describe two objects by contrasting them. Select two which are different and yet comparable. Prepare your composi- tion for reading in the class. 22. Test one of the descriptions in this book by means of the following questions : — Is the description clear ? Is it accurate ? Is it interesting ? Does it present a related whole ? What is the principal element of the description ? What are the subordinate details ? What is the general impression made by the description ? EXERCISES. 363 EXPLANATION AND EXPLANATORY DESCRIPTION. 1. Describe a bridge in your vicinity. a. Tell v^here it is. h. Write a clear description of its appearance. Speak of the material, design, and general plan of structure. Use such technical terms as are necessary to make your meaning clear. These may be learned from conversation with bridge builders or from reading. 2. Write a description of a schoolhouse with which you are familiar. Tell where it is situated, and describe its appearance. Tell what you know of the school itself, the neighborhood it rep- resents, the character of the pupils, and add any interesting and pertinent facts which occur to you as you write. 3. You have found a wild flower which you have never seen before. Write to a friend who has some knowledge of plants, and describe the flower, asking its name. Use such botanical terms as are necessary to make your meaning clear. 4. Write about fences. a. Use of fences ; how the use determines the kind. h. Kinds (with description of particular sorts which you have seen, — the New England stone wall, the Vir- ginia rail fence, stump fences, barbed-wire fences, etc.). c. Disappearance of the fence in cities. 5. Describe a visit to some manufactory. In preparing your description use the following outline : — a. Introductory sentence, including location, name, and character of the manufactory. h. The building from without. c. The departments, or rooms, with the work done in each. These should follow the order of the manufacture. d. The finished product. e. The distribution of the manufactured articles. 364 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 6. Describe a blue jay, a crow, an owl, a robin, a duck, or a parrot. In preparing your description use the following outline : — a. Tell where the bird may be found (its habitat). h. Describe its appearance, — color, size, form, etc. c. Describe its habits. d. Add items of interest which occur to you. 7. Study this explanation of Thoreau's. What fact does he explain ? How does he explain it ? How did he learn this truth ? What is the force of the concluding sentence ? In all the pines, a very thin membrane, in appearance much like an insect’s wing, grows over and around the seed, and independent of it, while the latter is being developed within its base. ... In other words, a beautiful thin sack is woven around the seed, with a handle to it such as the wind can take hold of, and it is then committed to the wind, expressly that it may transport the seed and extend the range of its species ; and this it does as effectually as when seeds are sent by mail in a different kind of sack from the patent office. 8. Explain some fact which you have observed in nature or learned from books. Make your explanation accurate, as w^ell as clear, no matter how trivial the item may seem to you. 9. Select one of the following topics for an explanatory descrip- tion, as in Exercise 1, and write a paragraph on the subject : — The buds of the horse-chestnut tree. Mullein. The second year of an onion’s life. An aquatic plant. Clover and the bees. An oriole’s nest. 10. Describe a suit of armor, in reply to a child who asks you about it. 11. Imagine a person who has never seen a railroad. Explain to him the general plan of construction. 12. Bring to the class a short, clear, and definite explanation which you have found either in a text-book or in a magazine. Read it aloud, asking your classmates to discuss the explana- tion, and, particularly, to ask questions about such parts as are not entirely clear. Rewrite the explanation from memory. EXERCISES. 365 13. Make definitions of familiar objects, as a step in tlie process of explanation. Observe the difference between an exact and logical definition and a general description. Define the objects or ideas mentioned in the list below. cube fraction denominator prime number pistil fern pitcher machine machinivSt commerce angle scalene triangle commission subtrahend legume mushroom knife carpet engineer merchant triangle interest divisor petiole stamen spoon goblet engine silversmith warship 14. What is an ocean current? Use the Gulf Stream as an example and describe clearly, using drawings. 15. Explain the formation of a delta, as in the Nile or the Mississippi River. 16. What is meant by the solar spectrum? Explain by a diagram and a written descriptive definition. 17. Explain the alphabet used in telegraphy, and show how a message is sent. 18. Describe Franklin’s experiment with the kite. 19. Why does a chestnut snap and burst while roasting ? 20. Turn to your text-book in physiology. Read the chapter which explains the circulatory system. Make a careful outline of the subject, as the author presents it, and be prepared to recite orally from your outline. 21. Turn to a good physical geography, or an encyclopedia, and find a brief and clear explanation. Make an outline of the explanation, and report it to the class. 22. Describe a railroad switch. Explain (1) its use ; (2) its appearance ; (3) its operation ; (4) possible consequences of a misplaced switch, with actual example. 366 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 23. Write about lamps. (1) Definition of your subject; (2) how lamps are constructed; (3) how lamps should be cared for ; (4) lamps in former days. 24. What is a savings bank ? How is such a bank established in your state ? How is an account opened ? How is it “ kept ” or recorded ? How is money deposited ? How is interest drawn ? What rate per cent is paid ? If interest is not withdrawn, what becomes of it ? Should a boy or girl open an account at a savings bank ? Why, or why not ? 25. Define a suction pump ; describe it ; explain its working ; draw a diagram of the pump. Compare definition, description, explanation, and diagram, showing what may be learned from each, and the order in which you receive the ideas in each case. 26. Life on a cattle ranch ; on a wheat ranch ; on a fruit farm ; on a small New England farm ; on a plantation in the South ; in a fishing village ; in a mining camp. 27. When Washington was a boy : an explanation of Virginian life in colonial days. 28. Prepare an outline for an explanatory description of a battle. Announce your plan, in introductory sentence. Thus, — “You must first know the objective point of both armies, which was . . . Then you must understand the position of the enemy, which was . . . Then I can explain our movement and its result.” 29. Make an announcement of your plan for explaining the manufacture of steel rails. To THE Teacher. — These exercises should be extended and varied until the pupils realize the necessity of clear and definite arrangement. By a discussion of some familiar subject (the system of the school ; the arrangement of the schoolhouse; the working of some simple machine whose parts may be seen at a single glance of the eye but must be treated consecutively in an explanation) the pupils may be taught to observe the difference between the natural order of experience and the systematic order required in good explanation. When this principle is once grasped, progress is easy. EXERCISES. 367 EXPLANATION AND PERSUASION. 1. You are visiting your cousin, who lives on a farm in the country. The adjoining farm is for sale. Write to your father, who lives in New York City, describing the farm and urging him to buy it. Explain (1) why it is a good investment ; (2) how it could be made an attractive summer place ; (3) why you desire its purchase. 2. You have planned to spend next summer in a business office. Your uncle who is going to Europe asks you to go with him. Write to your parents telling them of your uncle’s invita- tion and urging them to consent. 3. You are much interested in the study of birds. Write to a friend, urging her to begin the study. Describe the manner in which you became interested ; tell her what equipment is neces- sary, how and when she can begin the study, and why it will be profitable to her. 4. Write a note to a cousin who is to spend the summer with you, asking him to join with you in buying a boat. Give adequate reasons for the purchase. 5. Your parents are planning a summer vacation and suggest either the seashore or a mountain camp. Write to them, express- ing your choice and giving reasons. Try to persuade them that one plan is better than the other. 6. Your uncle promises you a year of study or a year of travel. Your sister writes, urging you to choose the year of travel. Reproduce her letter. 7. Write to your aunt in the country, urging her to spend the winter with you in the city. Show her that it will be pleasant for her and agreeable to your family. 8. A friend is hesitating between two schools. Write to him, trying to persuade him that your school is the more desirable. 9. Suppose that the principal of your school requests you to write a letter to the school committee or the superintendent of schools, asking for a change in the paper supplied for compositions. 368 THE MOTHER TONGUE. You have hitherto been supplied with paper in double sheets, but it is thought that single sheets, to be bound together by clips or paper-fasteners, will be more convenient. In such a letter it would not be enough merely to state that you want another kind of paper. You must also explain why the paper you now have is inconvenient, and why the new paper will be such an improve- ment as to make the change worth while. Be sure that you make the school committee or the superintendent understand the new way of keeping the compositions. ARGUMENT AND PERSUASION. Subjects for letters, for debate, or for extempore speech.^ To THE Teacher. — Speaking extempore is a profitable exercise. Let each pupil write his name upon a slip of paper, and a topic or question involving explanation or argument upon another slip. Put the names of the pupils in one box, the subjects in another. The teacher or a selected pupil should then draw a subject and read it to the class, and then, after a moment’s pause to give opportunity for thought, should draw the name of a pupil. This pupil should then be required to speak for two minutes on the subject in hand. 1. You are deciding upon your course of study in a school in which all the subjects are elective. Give reasons for choosing or omitting English composition ; algebra ; Latin ; physics. 2. Show by examples that a person’s manner of speech betrays or does not betray lack of education. 3. Are written examinations useful, or otherwise ? Why, or why not ? 4. Why should the public demand clean streets? How can they be secured ? 5. The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals is doing a necessary and benevolent work. Show reasons for the i Exercises 14-24 are propositions for debate. EXERCISES. 309 existence of the society. Show the effect of the society upon the standards of the community. Give examples to prove that the work is both useful and benevolent. 6. Children should be taught to respect public property. Why? How? 7. Good roads are more important than good schools. Prove or disprove, and use definite examples. 8. A city of separate houses is better than a city of tenements. Give your reasons for believing this to be true. 9. Play is just as necessary as work. Show the effects of all work and no play ; of all play and no work. Give examples showing that the alternation of both is the only good plan. 10. Grammar is a very useful study. Show by examples that this is true, or imagine the effect of complete ignorance of the grammar of one’s mother tongue. 11. Geoffrey Brown wishes to spend the summer at a boys’ camp. He is a young student at an academy. He writes to his father and mother, urging them to let him join the camping party. He tries to persuade them that it would be good for his health, that he can learn much from association with the masters and the other boys, that the money required will be well spent, and that his absence will be in some ways a relief to his parents. (1) Write Geoffrey’s first letter, outlining the plan. (2) Write the father’s reply, raising objections. (8) Reply to the objections. 12. The town of Raleigh, Missouri, needs a new building for the high school. Some of the townspeople wish to build a cheap temporary structure for immediate needs ; others prefer to build for the future, issuing bonds to cover the greater cost of the better building. The subject is discussed in the newspapers. Write an argument for each side. On the one hand, show that it is more economical to build for future needs than to put money into a temporary and inadequate structure. On the other hand, show that debt is demoralizing, that it is better for the children to suffer inconvenience than for the fathers to be burdened with 870 THE MOTHER TONGUE. debt, and that future contingencies may demand something different from the present plan. The material collected for these newspaper articles may after- wards be used in general debate on the subject. 13. Members of the Albion High School wish to organize a literary society which shall hold meetings on Friday afternoons after school. The proposition is to be discussed at a special meeting of the students called for the purpose. Prepare argu- ments for and against the organization of the society. Some of these arguments may be presented from the pupils' point of view ; others should present the views of the teachers and the parents. In preparing these argmnents cite instances of other societies which have succeeded or have failed ; show the advantages of such a voluntary society; state the effect of such associations upon other duties, in school or at home, and consider the expenses attending the organization. 14. Latin should be a prescribed study throughout the high- school course. 15. The science of housekeeping should be prescribed for girls in the high school. 16. Fewer subjects should be taught in this school, and those more thoroughly. 17. Children should be required by law to go to school two years longer than at present. 18. The rules of football should be so changed as to produce a more open game. 19. Interscholastic athletics should be encouraged. 20. Receiving pay for taking part in athletic sports should bar the receiver from amateur contests. 21. Members of the Cabinet should have seats, but no vote, in the House of Representatives. 22. The city (or town) government should do more for the support of the public library. 23. United States senators should be elected by popular vote. 24. Wide tires should be required by law on heavy wagons. EXERCISES. 371 PARAGRAPHS. 1. Study the second and third paragraphs in Miss Mitford’s description (pp. 161-2). Make (or find) a topic sentence for each. Observe the introductory sentences. Xote how the paragraph presents in detail the subject which is introduced by the opening sentences. 2. Write a paragraph describing a familiar scene in autumn or spring. Let the paragraph present the details of the scene. 3. AYrite a paragraph describing a person. Use the plan followed in Exercise 2. 4. AYrite one or more paragraphs on the subject The borrower is servant to the lender.” Let your first paragraph cohsist of an introduction, and in those that follow give instances or examples of the truth under discussion. 5. Find in some text-book three paragraphs constructed as in Exercise 4. 6. AYrite three paragraphs giving instances or examples to explain the following subject : ‘‘The blusterer is not always a hero, neither is the modest man necessarily a craven.” 7. Write on one of the following subjects, making each paragraph explain an effect of the cause stated in the introductory sentence : — (1) The Volcano as a Neighbor. (2) Too much Help may Hinder. (3) A Midsummer Drought. (4) The Eff'ects of Rapid Transit. (5) The Invention of the Telephone. (6) Wire- less Telegraphy. 8. Describe a pomegranate, or a persimmon, or a fig, by com- paring it to something like itself, and contrasting it with some- thing different. Outline your paragraphs, to show their plan. 9. Describe some character in history or fiction by telling what he is not. 10. AYrite three paragraphs, contrasting the dust and din of the city with the quiet and freshness of the country. 11. Analyze the last paragraph in “The Old Boat” (p. 160). AA^hat is the plan on which it is constructed ? 372 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 12. Find in the extracts quoted in this book examples of para- graphs (1) which give examples ; (2) which compare or contrast subjects ; (3) which show the effect of a cause ; (4) which present details ; (5) which explain by showing what a thing is not. 13. Write a paragraph, attempting to prove something by denying or disproving the contrary. Your proposition may be ‘‘ Regular periods of rest are essential to health,” or Washington was an able statesman as well as a devoted patriot.” 14. Show that the paragraphs in “The Valley of the Floss” (p. 177) are good examples of unity. 15. Point out the means by which transition is secured in paragraphs 1 and 2 of the “ Australian Kangaroo Hunt ” (p. 201). 16. Write a paragraph composed of related questions, as on page 204. 17. Make topic sentences for the paragraphs necessary in writing one of the compositions outlined on pages 73-76. 18. Show how the outlines on pages 73-76 naturally suggest division into paragraphs. 19. Make a tabular view of one of the subjects on pages 73-76 or page 236, supplying subordinate details. 20. Review one of the briefs on pages 258-60, noting the natural division into paragraphs. 21. Construct a paragraph on the principle of the climax. 22. Write an argument on one of the subjects named on page 370. Test its structure by asking the following questions: — (1) Are the paragraphs w^ell proportioned ? (2) Do they follow a natural or logical sequence ? (3) Is each paragraph a unit ? (4) Are the transitions smooth and easy ? (5) Are the statements clear? cogent? (6) Is the emphasis well placed? (7) Are the interrelations of the paragraphs perfectly clear ? 23. Prepare a brief for an essay on “ The Advantages of Going Afoot.” Attend to the structure and arrangement of paragraphs. 24. Read a short essay from some standard author. Report the essay in outline to the class. What does the essay show you about paragraph structure ? EXERCISES. 373 STUDY OF THE DICTIONARY. 1. Learn all that the Dictionary can tell you about the follow- ing words, and report to the class : — dredge, drift, drop, droop, elbow, element, emeritus, emperor, encore, enunciate, escalade, eschew, estuary, euphuism, euphemism, example, extenuate, fall, fast, feint, feudal, find, firm, frame, grate, grocer, gunwale, haul, hansom, heirloom, herald, comfort, thorough, favor, liberal, citizen, kingdom, detach, spasmodic, countenance, pheasant, shrewd, recipe, nostrum, cadence, category, oriental, plight, quiz, type, weigh. 2. Prepare to answer the following questions in an oral report to the class : — What does the Dictionary teach you about the pronunciation of words ? Where is this information contained ? What signs are used to indicate pronunciation? Have you mastered the diacritical marks ? Can you pronounce a word from its diacritical markings ? Select from the Dictionary a number of words with their dia- critical marks, to be written on the blackboard as a test for the other pupils. 3. How does the Dictionary indicate syllabication and accent of words ? Illustrate for the class. 4. How does the Dictionary indicate the part of speech to which a word belongs ? Illustrate for the class. If a word belongs to more than one part of speech, how are the definitions arranged? Illustrate. 5. What does the Dictionary show concerning the derivation of words ? Explain the abbreviations used to indicate derivation. 6. When several meanings of a single word are given in the Dictionary, which definition should you select ? 7. What is the purpose of the quotations and examples which are given in an unabridged dictionary ? Give examples to show their use. 8. Which part of the verb is included in the dictionary list? Does the Dictionary help you to .spell other forms of the verb ? 374 THE MOTHER TONGUE. WORDS AND SENTENCES. 1 . Read Rumpelstiltskin ” (pp. 112-14), in order to answer the following questions : — (1) What words do you find in the story which do not appear in your ordinary conversation ? Make a list of these words ; then use each one carefully in a sentence. (2) Select ten words for which you can substitute longer or less familiar synonyms. Try the effect of each synonym in the sen- tence. (3) For what audience is this story intended? Show that the author has adapted his story to his audience. 2. Use in sentences of your own the following words from “Moses and the Green Spectacles'' (pp. 115-18): — intention, persuaded, prevail, discreet, prudence, intrust, commission, waist- coat, bowling, congratulate, commendation, importing, assented, warrant, passion, blockhead, sharper, pretense. 3. Explain the use of the following words which occur in “ Moses and the Green Spectacles " : — higgles, deal, paces, under- took, by the by, shagreen, murrain, trumpery, prowling. 4. Study “ Moses and the Green Spectacles," observing the specific words and phrases which enter into the descriptions. Write the words in lists, showing w^hich are nouns, verbs, adverbs, adjectives, etc. What effect is produced by the use of so many specific words ? 5. Read “ Lochinvar" (pp. 118-19), picking out the figurative expressions in the poem. 6. Study the adjectives in Grey's “Australian Superstition" (pp. 120-2). Write them in a list. In the class, be prepared, with the other pupils, to use each word in turn in an impromptu sentence. The exercise should test your command of this vocabulary. 7. Make a list of the nouns in “ Australian Superstition," using them as in the previous exercise. 8. Study the adjectives used in “The Valley of the Floss" (p. 177). Weigh the meaning of each adjective, as you read, and see what it contributes to your thought of the scene. Which EXERCISES. 375 words present objects to your eye merely? Which words stir some feeling ? Which are a contribution from the author’s feeling or imagination ? Are these words plain or figurative ? 9. Use in written sentences of your own these words from Miss Mitford’s description (pp. 161-2), consulting the Dictionary when you are in doubt, and reporting what you learn about the unfamiliar words : — avenue, arching, perspective, cathedral, incrusted, congelation, hoar-frost, defined, uniform, various, fill- ing, satiating, thrilling, awfulness, intense, magnificent, eminence, abruptly, furze, broom, luxuriant, hedgerows, thyme, holly, pen- dent, bramble, pollard, rime, tracery, hip, haw, runlet, trickles, transparent, fantastic, scudding, gorgeous, tropical, mistrust, suspiciously, glutton, fine. 10. Distinguish between the use of pretense and pretext; pro- posal and proposition ; motto and maxim ; quote and plagiarize ; claim and assert ; fiction and myth ; treachery and treason ; courage and fortitude; economy and parsimony ; modest and hashful; coax and convince. Use each pair of words in a sentence. 11. Study the words and phrases which are used in each contrast indicated in the following selection : — To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted ; a time to kill, and a time to heal ; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together ; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing ; a time to get, and a time to lose ; a time to keep, and a time to cast away ; a time to rend, and a time to sew ; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak ; a time to love, and a time to hate ; a time of war, and a time of peace. — Ecclesiastes, hi, 1-8. 12. Read a paragraph from a standard author. Make a list of the words occurring in the paragraph which you do not ordinarily use in conversation. Turn to the Dictionary and study the defi- nition of each word. Then compose sentences in which the words are correctly used. 376 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 13. Select a paragraph to read to the class. After the paragraph has been read, ask different members of the class to use selected words in sentences. 14. Let each member of the class select ten words from a well- known book or from a magazine article designated by the teacher. These words are to be brought to the class. As each word is read, a pupil may be asked to use it at once in an appropriate sentence. The words which cannot be promptly and correctly used should be written on the board for study by the class. 15. See how many appropriate adjectives you can use in describing certain familiar objects or scenes : as, — an oak tree, a procession, a family at home, the school yard at recess, market day, a Fourth-bf-July procession, etc. 16. Select a paragraph from some standard author and care- fully study the words used in the paragraph. Decide whether they are appropriate or otherwise. See how they are used, and state the thought in another way, using other w^ords. 17. Make a list of the names of twenty-five common things (as, pieces of furniture, utensils, tools, etc.), and, wdth the help of the Dictionary, find the derivation of the names in your list. See from what language they have come into English, and report what you have learned to the class. 18. Bring to the class a newspaper paragraph which seems to you carelessly written, and suggest w^ords or phrases which will better express the thought of the paragraph. 19. Substitute general for specific words in The Story of a Fire” (pp. 10-11), and observe the effect. 20. Use the following general and specific words in sentences, and compare the effect of the contrasted terms: — went, sped; tree, plum tree ; child, barefoot boy ; man, farmer ; house, cot- tage ; city, Chicago ; sound, hum, whirr, shriek, whistle ; insect, butterfly, bee, mosquito. 21. Use the following words in sentences which illustrate the difference in the meaning of the words : — (1) abbreviate, abridge, contract; (2) prohibit, abolish, annihilate; (3) arbitrary, despotic. EXERCISES. 377 tyrannical; (4) forgive, pardon, acquit; (5) accident, chance, misfortune; (6) companion, comrade, friend; (7) luxurious, luxuriant ; (8) imperious, imperative ; (9) near, neighboring, next; (10) adorn, garnish, decorate ; (11) appearance, demeanor, mien; (12) equal, equivalent ; (13) foreign, alien ; (14) mitigate, alleviate; (15) niggardly, avaricious, covetous; (16) awful, dis- agreeable ; (17) annoying, horrid ; (18) beach, coast, brink, strand; (19) pretty, beautiful, handsome, picturesque; (20) bit- ter, pungent, caustic ; (21) noisy, boisterous, turbulent ; (22) sin- cere, transparent, aboveboard ; (23) cause, occasion ; (24) select, prefer ; (25) class, clique, coterie, set ; (26) deception, craft, hypocrisy. 22. Read Sir John Lubbock’s explanation of a regular flower (p. 203). Make a list of all the technical words which occur in the selection. Study the use of each word. See if you can sub- stitute more familiar words or phrases without loss of clearness or definiteness. 23. Make a list of the technical words used in Professor Goss’s comparison of a stationary and a locomotive engine (pp. 207-9). Bring your list to the class, to compare with the lists made by other pupils. Discuss the selection, considering the meaning and use of each technical word in its place. 24. Describe a boat race, using technical terms. Rewrite your description, omitting all words which would be unintelligible to a person who knows very little of the construc- tion and management of boats. Read both descriptions in the class, for comparison and criticism. 25. Explain the meaning of the following words used in the description of buildings : — colonnade, fresco, dome, fagade, arch, court, peristyle, vault, cloister, porch, tower, column, rotunda, spire, arcade, .cornice, pediment, cupola, portico, turret. 26. Define the technical words which are italicized in the following sentences : — Another remarkable result of the migration of the doldrum belt is seen in the change in the direction of the trade winds when they cross the 378 THE MOTHER TONGUE. geographic equator on the way to the heat equator. The northeast trade is extended into a northwest wind in the southern summer, the southeast trade into a southwest wind in the northern summer. Thus on both sides of the equator, in the narrow suh -equatorial belts where this relation appears, the winds alternately blow from opposite directions as the seasons change. Winds of this kind are called monsoons. — William M. Davis, * ‘ Physical Geography . ’ ’ 27. Observe the work of a carpenter or a mason. Report what you have seen, using the technical names for the tools, materials, and processes which you describe. 28. Describe a door which you have carefully observed. Use the appropriate technical terms which are required to make your description accurate. 29 . Make a list of technical terms used in the occupation with which you are most familiar (farming, ship-building, housekeep- ing, etc.). Be prepared to define any word in your list. 30. Make a list of at least ten slang phrases which have originated in borrowed technical terms. Example: — ‘‘You are off on a side-track.’’ Explain the origin of each expression in your list. 31. In the following phrases or sentences you will find words which are used in a figurative sense. Use these words in sentences. Then try to express the same thought without figures of speech. (1) Murmuring pines. .The wail of the forest. (3) Gos- siping looms. (4) His thought ripened into action. (5) The leaden air was oppressive. (6) Silence reigned in the household. (7) The fire was gone from his eye. (8) The ocean flew from the shore. (9) These were the waifs of the tide. (10) The moon climbs the crystal wall of heaven. (11) A golden day redeems a weary year. (12) He answered with a vacant stare. (13) I know the hunger and thirst of the spirit. (14) This is a shipwrecked nation. (15) He saw a towering oak. (16) A day in the opening spring. (17) The friendly streets looked just as they looked when he was a boy. (18) He returned from the fruitless search. (19) She wrung a scant subsistence from her EXERCISES. 379 toil. (20) He was lost in thought (21) He strove to win the palm. (22) This position was the goal of his ambition. (23) The news flew from village to village. (24) His son is the staff of his declining years. (25) He is steeped in forgetfulness. (26) The bird wheeled in the air. (27) Prune your thoughts. (28) Xesbit was spurred to action. 32. In the poems on pages 168-70 pick out ten examples of fig- ures of speech. 33. Make a paraphrase of the poem on page 170 in prose, and see whether the figures from the poetry will fit naturally into the prose. 34. Study the descriptive words and phrases in Lowell’s Vision of Sir Launfal.” Select from the poem words which do not ordinarily occur in your own vocabulary, and use them in suitable sentences. 35. Bring to the class fifteen simple figurative expressions. Substitute non-figurative words, and compare the effect. 36. Explain the figures of speech in the following passages : — (1) Northward he turneth through a little door. And scarce three steps, ere music’s golden tongue Flattered to tears this aged man and poor. (2) Oaths are straws, men’s faiths are wafer-cakes. (3) Now all the youth of England are on fire. (4) His foes are so enrooted with his friends That, plucking to unfix an enemy. He doth unfasten so and shake a friend. (5) Avaunt ! Begone ! thou hast set me on the rack. (6) As many arrows, loosed several ways. Come to one mark ; as many ways meet in one turn ; As many fresh streams meet in one salt sea ; As many lines close in the dial’s centre ; So many a thousand actions, once afoot. End in one purpose, and be all well borne Without defeat. (7) Great Nature spoke; observant man obeyed. 380 THE MOTHER TONGUE. IMPROPRIETIES. The correct meanings of words are settled by good use (p. 304); violations of correctness are known as improprieties. To THE Teacher. — Improprieties are best studied when occasion arises, — that is, when they are observed in the pupil’s writing or speak- ing. The word that is misused should be looked up in an unabridged dictionary, and the illustrdHive quotations noted ; then the pupil should be required to use it and its synonyms in a number of original sentences. The exercises that follow are not intended to be studied in bulk, but rather to serve as indications of the commonest violations of good usage. 1. Define the verb claim. Study its correct use in the following sentences. Observe also the correct use of allege^ assert^ maintain, hold. How does claim differ from these verbs in meaning ? The son clawied his father’s property. The stranger claims to be a person of consequence. A day will come when York shall claim his own. This prince hath neither claimed it nor deserved it. The Duke of Suffolk is the first, and claims to be high steward. Of these am I, who thy protection claim. He asserts that he has been injured. He declares that there is no help for it. How can you inaintain that this Plato was not Aristotle’s teacher ? It was alleged by their enemies that they refused to take the oaths to the government. I hold they are not worth a dollar. It has been repeatedly affirmed by the learned that opium is a dusky brown in color. 2. Study Jix, adjust, repair as in Exercise 1. The words are correctly used in the following sentences : — He fixed his eye on the target. He fixed the stake in the ground. The man adjusted his cravat. I do not know how to repair my bicycle. 3. To allude to a thing is not the same as to mention it or to refer to it. An allusion is an indirect reference that suggests the subject without mentioning it distinctly. Thus, — EXERCISES. asi When he spoke of the effective mixture of comedy and tragedy in the Elizabethan drama, he was doubtless alluding to Shakspere, but he took care not to mention him ; he did not even refer to any one of his plays by name. Use these words correctly in sentences of your own. 4. Study the following groups of words as in Exercise 1 : — testimony, verdict ; team, vehicle, carriage ; lie, lay ; sit, set ; vertical, perpendicular ; demean, degrade ; notorious, notable ; healthy, healthful, wholesome ; tang, twang ; love, like ; depre- cate, depreciate ; impute, impugn ; luxurious, luxuriant ; calcu- late, intend ; purpose, propose ; transpire, occur ; affect, effect. 5. Study the following groups of words in the same way: — liable, likely ; plead, argue ; invent, discover ; historic, historical ; fire, throw ; learn, teach ; teacher, professor ; among, between ; quite, somewhat ; definite, definitive ; without, unless ; person, party ; bring, fetch, carry ; settle, pay. 6. Study the following groups in the same way: — peer, paragon ; less, fewer ; posted, informed ; fine, grand ; clever, good-tempered ; guess, think ; lovely, pretty ; practical, practica- ble ; awfully, very ; ugly, cross ; right, just ; name, mention ; intelligible, intelligent ; agree with, agree to ; change for, change with; disappoint in, disappoint of; differ with, differ from; confide in, confide to ; correspond with, correspond to ; part from, part with ; compare to, comi)are with. The words in each of the following groups are worth studying with reference to distinction of meaning. In some of these groups an inter- change of the words would be a gross violation of correctness ; in others, usage allows it. In every case, however, the pupil will find it useful to know the distinctions that may be made. Hypothesis, hypothecation ; right, duty, privilege, prerogative ; estop, prevent (p. 317) ; fear, apprehend ; reverent, reverend ; exploit (verb), display; proud, haughty; truth, honesty; stay, stop; common, vulgar; mad, angry; criticism, censure; copy, counterpart; restive, restless; confuse, confound; shop, store; ask, demand; give, bequeath; leave, depart, go away; prominent, conspicuous, distinguished; road, street; ride, drive; idle, lazy; loiter, saunter; confess, acknowledge; old, ancient, antique, venerable ; strange, queer, odd, quaint, funny, weird ; 382 THE MOTHER TONGUE. guess, reckon, calculate, consider, allow, think (p. 312) ; expect, suspect, suppose ; tragedy, murder, homicide ; house, home, residence ; atheist, deist, skeptic, infidel; frank, candid, blunt, plainspoken; pretty, hand- some, beautiful ; ubiquitous, omnipresent ; college, university, school ; see, witness; friend, acquaintance; trade, business, profession, occupa- tion, vocation; attorney, barrister, counsel, lawyer; square, rectangular, oblong ; robber, thief ; bravery, fortitude, boldness ; cowardice, timidity ; piteous, pitiful, pitiable, compassionate, sympathetic; responsive, respon- sible; sophistry, fallacy; fortnightly, biweekly; human, mortal; poison- ous, venomous ; perspicuous, perspicacious ; wise, learned ; artist, artisan ; engine,, locomotive ; act, bill ; partly, partially ; whole, all ; mother-in-law, stepmother; hail, address, accost; advise, recommend; nice, agreeable, attractive; aggravate, exasperate; antagonize, oppose. APPENDIX. COMMON EERORS IN ORAL AND WRITTEN COMPOSITION. Violation of the rules of grammar proclaims the unlettered writer or speaker. Since our use of language is largely deter- mined by imitation, errors often repeated by others may slip into our own speech. Grammar is treated in ‘‘ The Mother Tongue,” Book II, to which reference may be made if necessary. What follows is merely a summary convenient for reference. Debat- able constructions, in which either of two forms is allowed by good usage, are purposely omitted. 1. Without should not be used in the sense of unless, nor like in the sense of as. The following sentences are correct : — You cannot do that unless I help you. [Not : without I help you.] You cannot do that without me. He acted like a madman. I do not sew as you do. [Not: like you do.] 2. The superlative degree should not be used for the compar- ative. The comparative degree refers to one of two objects or groups of objects; the superlative, to one of three or more objects or groups of objects. 3. Either and neither should not be used in place of aiuj. Either and neither are used in referring to one of two : any or any one in referring to one of three or more. 4. Sort and kind should be preceded by the singular demon- strative and not by the plural. Thus, — this sort, or kind,” not these ; that sort, or kind,” not those. 383 384 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 5. The article should not be inserted in a phrase which depends upon kind or sort. We should say “this kind of boy,” not “ this kind of a boy ” ; “ this manner of person,” not “ this manner of a person”; “this sort of thing,” not “this sort of a thing.” 6. The case forms of pronouns should conform to the gram- matical structure of the sentence. Thus, in the subject con- struction, “ You and / did it”; “ We boys are going to town,” etc. In the predicate nominative (or attribute), — “ It was I Qie^ she, etc.),” not me, him, her; “If you were /,” not me; in the objective case after a preposition, — “It is between you and me ” ; “ He sent for John and me.'' We know the culprit to be him. [Objective, agreeing with culprit, the subject of the infinitive.] We know that the culprit is he. [Predicate nominative or attribute.] The culprit was known to be he. [Predicate nominative or attri- bute.] I felt sure of its being he. [Predicate nominative or attribute ; com- pare, — I felt sure that it was he.'] She is taller than I. [That is, — than I am. Hence the nominative.] 7. The genitive (possessive) case of the noun or pronoun should be used before the verbal noun in -ing. Thus, — I was sure of its being he. [Not: it.] I heard of tTohn’s being elected. [Not : John.] 8. Their should not refer back to a singular noun or pro- noun. Thus, — Every pupil should bring own book. [Not: their.] Each one of us has /lis own troubles. [Not: their ov our.] 9. In such sentences as the following, his is correct,^ but not always graceful : — Every boy and girl should attend to his own lesson. [Their would be wrong ; his or her may be used if the distinction of gender is important.] 1 In such sentences, his may be regarded as of common gender. The construction may often be avoided by using a noun like person, pupil, or the like, which applies to both genders. COMMON ERRORS. 385 10. Who and whom should be carefully distinguished in con- struction. Thus, — The man who hesitates is lost. [Subject of hesitates.] The man whom you met is my brother. [Object of met.] Who is that odd-looking person? [Subject of is.] Whom do you wish to see ? [Object of see.] Whom did you refer to? [Object of to.]'^ Who do you think I am? [Predicate nominative (attribute), in the same case as /.] Whom do you take me to be? [Predicate objective in the same case as me.] 11. Avoid the use of and which when a relative construction does not precede. The following sentence is ungrammatical : — He gave me a number of flowers of great beauty and which had rarely been found in that region. [The construction demands — which were of great beauty and which; otherwise the conjunction joins incongruous constructions.] The same error is common with hut which. The ungrammatical use of and which is very common, and occurs in good authors. It should be avoided, however : for, even if it is defensi- ble on the ground of usage, it is always ungraceful. 12. After look, sound, taste, smell, feel, an adjective is used to describe the subject. Thus, — She looks beautiful. [Not : looks beautifully.] The bells sound Aars/i. [Not: sound harshly.] My luncheon tastes good. [Not : tastes well.] The flowers smell sweet. [Not : smell sweetly.] Velvet feels smoo^/i. [Not: feels smoothly.] “ I feel well,'' is correct, for u^ell is an adjective in this use. ^ “ To ivhom did you refer?” is often preferred, but this order is too formal for habitual use in ordinary conversation. The best writers use the less formal order freely, despite the objection of some rhetoricians. The preposition at the end of the clause or sentence sometimes, but not always, produces an awkward effect. No rule can be laid down. 386 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 13. In the First Person sJiall^ not will^ is the auxiliary of the Future Tense in both assertions and questions. It denotes simple futurity, without expressing willingness, desire, or determination.^ Will in the First Person is used in promising, threatening, consenting, and expressing resolution. It never denotes simple futurity. I will give you a thousand dollars to do this. [Promise.] I will shoot the first man that runs. [Threat.] I will accompany you, since you wish it. [Consent.] I will fight it out on this line if it takes all summer. [Resolution.] ril and we'll stand for / will and we will, and are proper only when I will and we will would be correct. They can never stand for I shall and ive shall. The use of will for shall in the first person of the future is a common but gross error. Thus, — We will all die some day. [Wrong, unless what one means is ‘‘We are determined to die.” Say: “Wes/iaZ/.”] I will he glad to help you. [Say : “ I shall be glad.”] Such expressions as I shall he glad, I shall he willing, I shall he charmed to do this, express willingness not by means of shall but in the adjectives glad, willing, charmed. To say “I will he glad to do this,” then, would be wrong, for it would be to express volition twice. Such a sentence could only mean “ I am determined to be glad to do this.” 14. In the Second Person shall you ? not ivill you ? is the proper form of the Future Tense in questions. Will you f always denotes willingness, consent, or determina- tion, and never simple futurity. I. Future Tense (simple futurity). Shall you vote for Jackson ? [That is. Are you going to vote for him as a matter of fact ?] Shall you try to win the prize ? Shall you go to Paris in June or in July? ^Nos. 13-15 are from “ The Mother Tongue,” Book II, pp. 242-3. COMMON ERRORS. 387 II. Verb-phrase denoting Willingness, etc. Will you lend me ten dollars as a favor ? Will you try to write better ? Will you insist on this demand ? 15. Shall in the second and third persons is not the sign of the future tense in declarative sentences. It is used in commanding, promising, threatening, and express- ing resolution, the volition being that of the speaker. Thus, — Thou shall not steal. [Command.] You shall have a dollar if you run this errand. [Promise.] You shall he punished if you defy me. [Threat.] He shall he punished if he defies me. [Threat.] You shall never see him again. [Determination.] He shall leave the house instantly. [Determination.] 16. In indirect discourse shall and should are used when they would have been used in direct statement. Thus, — He declares that he shall die if he is not helped. [Direct : I shall die.] He declared that he should die if he were not helped. [Direct: I shalLI You say you should like to see him. [Direct; I should like.] I promised that the money should he ready. [Direct : The money shall be ready.] Thomson says that he not pay this bill. [Direct: 1 will not.'] You promised that you would help me. [Direct : I will.] 17. The tenses of the subordinate clauses of a complex sentence and of dependent relatives must be adjusted to the tense of the principal verb, and to the meaning of the sentence. Inserting a definite adverb or adverbial phrase of time will often help you to decide which tense you should use. In the sentence “ They learned that a stitch in time saves nine,” if you mean that they learned the general truth that a stitch in time saves nine, saves is correct. If you refer to one past instance only, you should use saved. “I thought that he ought to have done it” and “I thought that he ought to do it” are both correct; but they are not interchangeable, since they convey different ideas. 388 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 18. Words necessary to the construction must not be omitted. I have not done, it and I will not do it. [Not : I have not, and I will not do it.] a. In written language, sentences should not end with the sign of the infinitive. Thus, — I could learn in an hour all that I cared to might pass in conversation, but it is not accurate enough for written language. ‘‘ All that I cared to learn” would properly complete the sentence. h. In a long sentence, it sometimes happens that the predi- cate verb is actually omitted, on account of the trail- ing dependent clauses which arrest the thought of the speaker or writer. Be sure that you can instantly point out the main clause, with its subject and its verb, in every sentence that you write. If you hesitate, it is a sign that your sentence needs to be rewritten. c. Omission of the subject should be restricted to the tele- graphic style. ‘‘ Yours received. Ought to have written before. Will send the goods immediately,” is too curt to be either polite or elegant. 19. The participle, being grammatically an adjective, must belong to a substantive expressed in the sentence. I sent yon back the “ Quarterly ” without perusal, having resolved to read no more reviews. [Not: The “Quarterly” was sent back without perusal, having resolved to read no more reviews.] A few participles may be idiomatically used without a noun in agree- ment. Such are considering^ regarding^ concerning,, owing to, which are practically prepositions. Speaking is also used independently in a few phrases: as, — “generally speaking,'’ “strictly speaking." Supposing is also defensible, but suppose is neater. Due to should not be used for owing to in such a sentence as the follow- ing: — “ Owing to the severe weather, observations could not be taken.” 20. The verb should agree with its subject in person and number. To avoid error, keep the subject clearly in mind in every sentence. Take care that the verb is not so widely sep- arated from the subject that the connection is lost. COMMON ERRORS. 389 a. 'When the subject may be regai'ded as either singular or plural, the same construction should be maintained throughout the passage. In every sentence which has for its subject a collective noun, be on your guard against any change of number either in the verb or in pronouns referring to the subject. h. A << compound subject,’’ composed of nouns or pronouns connected by and, or, or nor, demands careful atten- tion to the verb. When the parts of the subject are joined by or or nor, the verb is singular. When they are joined by and, the verb is almost always plural. c. Difficulties in the use of compound subjects may some- times be obviated by the use of with or as well as. Thus, — Night air, together with draughts, is the bugbear of fearful patients.” Note that the singular is the only defensible form in this case. 21. Modifying words and phrases should be so placed that there can be no question as to the word they modify. If there is any doubt, the sentence should be rearranged or rewritten. A horse having a beautiful tail and mane stood at the post. [Not: A horse stood at the post having a beautiful tail and mane.] 22. Pronouns should be so used that there can be no doubt to what person or thing each refers. If there is any doubt, it is always better to insert another word or to rearrange the sentence. The doctor told his brother that the latter could not go out on account of the rain. Or, — The doctor, speaking to his brother, said, “ I cannot go out on account of the weather.” [Not: The doctor told his brother that he could not go out on account of the weather.] 23. Only should be so placed in the sentence that there can be no doubt what word or phrase it modifies. “My sister and I go only to concerts in the evening,” means that we go nowhere else. 390 THE MOTHER TONGUE. “ Only my sister and I go to concerts in the evening,” means that no one else in the family goes. “My sister and I go to concerts in the evening only,” means that we do not go in the daytime. Good usage does not fix absolutely the position of onli/ with respect to the word that it modifies. There is hut one safe rule: — “Shun ambiguity.” If this is observed, the pupil may feel secure. 24. An adverb should not be placed between the infinitive and its sign (to). The following sentences are correct : — It is my wish never to see him again. The antelope began to run swiftly across the plain. [Not: The ante- lope began to swiftly run across the plain.] The “ split infinitive ” is sometimes used by good writers ; but it is not authorized by the general usage of the best authors. 25. The article or the possessive should be repeated with two or more connected nouns or adjectives whenever clearness or pre- cision requires it. Thus, — I will confer with the secretary and the treasurer. In such sentences as the following no repetition is necessary, since no confusion is possible : — I will ask all the boys and girls in my class. He was very fond of his father and mother. When you are in doubt, however, it is safer to repeat. Hard-and-fast rules calling for the repetition in sentences like those just quoted are common in text-books but not justified by good usage. When the second noun is followed by a modifier which does not belong to the first, the article or pronoun should be repeated, for clearness. Thus, — I have little doubt but that, if an arm or leg could have been taken off with as little pain as attends the amputation of a curl or a lock of hair, the natural limb would have been thought less becoming, or less convenient, by some men, than a wooden one, and have been disposed of accordingly, — COWPER. CAPITAL LETTERS. 391 USE OF CAPITAL LETTERS. 1. Every sentence begins with a capital letter. 2. Every line of poetry begins with a capital letter. 3. The first word of every direct quotation begins with a capital letter. Note. — This rule does not apply to quoted fragments of sentences. 4. Every proper noun or abbreviation of a proper noun begins with a capital letter. 5. Most adjectives derived from proper nouns begin with capital letters; as, — American, Indian, Swedish, Spenserian, Note. — Some adjectives derived from proper nouns have ceased to be closely associated in thought with the nouns from which they come, and therefore begin with small letters. Thus, — voltaic, galvanic, mesmeric, maudlin, stentorian. 6. Every title attached to the name of a person begins with a capital letter. 7. In titles of books, etc., the first word, as well as every important word that follows, begins with a capital letter. 8. The interjection 0 and the pronoun I are always written in capital letters. 9. Personal pronouns referring to the Deity are often capitalized. Note. — Usage varies: the personal pronouns are commonly capital- ized, the relatives less frequently. The rule is often disregarded altogether when its observance would result in a multitude of capitals; so in the Bible and in many hymn books and works of theology. 10. Common nouns and adjectives often begin with capital letters when they designate the topics or main points of defini- tions or similar statements. Such capitals are called emphatic (or topical) capitals. Note. — Emphatic (or topical) capitals are analogous to capitals in the titles of books (see Rule 7), but their use is not obligatory. They are especially common in text-books and other elementary manuals. 392 THE MOTHER TONGUE. RULES OF PUNCTUATION.! The common marks of punctuation are the period, the interro- gation point, the exclamation point, the comma, the semicolon, the colon, the dash, marks of parenthesis, and quotation marks. The hyphen and the apostrophe may be conveniently treated along with marks of punctuation. I. 1. The period, the interrogation point, and the exclamation point are used at the end of sentences. Every complete sentence must be followed by one of these three marks. The end of a declarative or an imperative sentence is marked by a period. But a declarative or an imperative sentence that is likewise exclamatory may be followed by an exclamation point instead of a period. The end of a direct question is marked by an interrogation point. An exclamatoiy sentence in the form of an indirect question is followed by an exclamation point : as, — ‘‘ How absolute the knave is ! ’’ 2. A period is used after an abbreviation. 3. An exclamation point is used after an exclamatory word or phrase. Note. — This rule is not absolute. Most interjections take the exclama- tion point. With other words and with phrases, usage differs ; if strong feeling is expressed, the exclamation point is commonly used, hut too many such marks deface the page. t The main rules of punctuation are well fixed and depend on important distinctions in sentence structure and consequently in thought. In detail, however, there is much variety of usage, and care should be taken not to insist on such uniformity in the pupils’ practice as is not found in the printed hooks which they use. If young writers can he induced to indicate the ends of their sentences properly, much has been accomplished. PUNCTUATION. 393 II. The comma is used — 1. After a noun (or a phrase) of direct address (a vocative nominative^. Note 1. — If the noun is exclamatory, an exclamation point may be used instead of a comma. Note 2. — For the punctuation after the salutation in a letter, see pp. 82—83. 2. Before a direct quotation in a sentence. Thus, — The cry ran through the ranks, “ Are we never to move forward ? Note. — When the quotation is long or formal, a colon, or a colon and a dash, may be used instead of a comma, especially with the words as follows. 3. After a direct quotation when this is the subject or the object of a following verb. Thus, — “ They are coming; the attack will be made on the centre,” said Lord Fitzroy Somerset. “ I see it,” was the cool reply of the duke. Note. — If the quotation ends with an interrogation point or an exclamation point, no comma is used. 4. To separate words, or groups of words, arranged in a coor- dinate series, when these are not connected by and, or, or nor. If the conjunction is used to connect the last two members of the series but omitted with the others, the comma may be used before the conjunction. I found two saws, an axe, and a hammer. They were so shy, so subtle, and so swift of foot, that it was difficult to come at them. It would make the reader pity me to tell what odd, misshapen, ugly things I made. They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose. Note 1. — Commas may be used even when conjunctions are expressed, if the members of the series consist of several words, or if the writer wishes to emphasize their distinctness. Note 2. — Clauses in a series are commonly separated by semicolons unless they are short and simple (see p. 396). 394 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 5. To set off words and phrases out of their regular order. Thus, — Seated on her accustomed chair, with her usual air of apathy and want of interest in what surrounded her, she seemed now and then mechanically to resume the motion of twirling her spindle. — Scott. 6. To separate a long subject from the verb of the predicate. Thus, — To have passed them over in an historical sketch of my literary life and opinions, would have seemed to me like the denial of a debt. — Coleridge. 7. To set off an appositive noun or an appositive adjective, with its modifiers. Thus, — I have had the most amusing letter from Hogg, the Ettrick minstrel. There was an impression upon the public mind, natural enough from the continually augmenting velocity of the mail, but quite erroneous, that an outside seat on this class of carriages was a post of danger. De Quincey. Note 1. — Many participial and other adjective phrases come under this head. Thus, — The genius, seeing me indulge myself on this melancholy prospect, told me I had dwelt long enough upon it. — Addison. Note 2. — If a noun and its appositive are so closely connected as to form one idea, no comma is used. Thus, — My friend Jackson lives in San Francisco. Note 3. — An intensive pronoun {myself ^ etc.) is not separated by a comma from the substantive which it emphasizes. Note 4. — A series of words or phrases in apposition with a single sub- stantive is sometimes set off, as a whole, by a comma and a dash. 8. To set off a subordinate clause, especially one introduced by a descriptive relative. Thus, — I am going to take a last dinner with a most agreeable family, who have been my only neighbors ever since I have lived at Weston. — Cowper. Note. — No comma is used before a restrictive relative. Thus, — I want to know many things which only you can tell me. Perhaps I am the only man in England who can boast of such good fortune. PUNCTUATION. 395 9. To set off a phrase containing a nominative absolute. Thus, — They had some difficulty in passing the ferry at the riverside, the ferry- man being afraid of them. — Defoe. 10. To set off however, nevertheless, moreover, etc., and introduc- tory phrases like in the first place, on the one hand, etc. 11. To set off a parenthetical expression. For this purpose commas, dashes, or marks of parenthesis may be used. When the parenthetical matter is brief or closely related to the rest of the sentence, it is generally set off by commas. Thus, — I exercised a piece of hypocrisy for which, I hope, you will hold me excused. — Thackeray. When it is longer and more independent, it is generally marked off by dashes, or enclosed in marks of parenthesis. The latter are less frequently used at present than formerly. The connection of the mail with the state and the executive govern- ment — a connection obvious, but yet not strictly defined — gave to the whole mail establishment an official grandeur. — De Quincey. Note. — Brackets are used to indicate insertions that are not part of the text. III. The clauses of a compound sentence may be separated by colons, semicolons, or commas. 1. The colon is used — a. To show that the second of two clauses repeats the sub- stance of the first in another form, or defines the first as an appositive defines a noun. Thus, — This was the practice of the Grecian stage. But Terence made an inno- vation in the Roman : all his plays have double actions. — Dryden. h. To separate two groups of clauses one or both of which contain a semicolon. Thus, — At that time, news such as we had heard might have been long in pene- trating so far into the recesses of the mountains ; hut now, as you know, the approach is easy, and the communication, in summer time, almost 396 THE MOTHER TONGUE. hourly: nor is this strange, for travellers after i^leasure are become not less active, and more numerous, than those who formerly left their homes for purposes of gain. — Wordsworth. Note. — The colon is less used now than formerly. The tendency is to use a semicolon or to begin a new sentence. 2 . The semicolon is used when the clauses are of the same gen- eral nature and contribute to the same general effect, especially if one or more of them contain commas. Thus, — The sky was cloudless ; the sun shone out bright and warm ; the songs of birds, and hum of myriads of summer insects filled the air ; and the cottage garden, crowded with every rich and beautiful tint, sparkled in the heavy dew like beds of glittering jewels. — Dickens. 3. The comma may be used when the clauses are short and simple (see p. 393). Note. — The choice between colon, semicolon, and comma is determined in many cases by the writer’s feeling of the closer or the looser connection of the ideas expressed by the several clauses, and is to some extent a matter of taste. IV. 1. In a complex sentence the dependent clause is generally separated from the main clause by a comma. But when the dependent clause is short and the connection close, the comma may be omitted. Note. — A restrictive relative clause is not preceded by a comma (see p. .394). 2. The clauses of a series, when in the same dependent con- struction, are often separated by semicolons to give more emphasis to each. Thus, — [Mrs. Battles] was none of your lukewarm gamesters, your half-and- half players, who have no objection to take a hand if you want one to make up a rubber ; who affirm that they have no pleasure in winning ; that they like to win one game and lose another ; that they can while away an hour very agreeably at a card-table, but are indifferent whether they play or no ; and will desire an adversary, who has slipped a wrong card, to take it up and play another. — Lamb. PUNCTUATION. 397 V. 1. A direct quotation is enclosed in quotation marks. Note. — If the quotation stands by itself and is printed in different type, the marks may be omitted. 2. A quotation within a quotation is usually enclosed in single quotation marks. 3. In a quotation consisting of several paragraphs, quotation marks are put at the beginning of each paragraph and at the end of the last. Note. — For the punctuation before a quotation, see p. 393. 4. When a book, poem, or the like, is referred to, the title may be enclosed in quotation marks or italicized. VI. 1. Sudden changes in thought and feeling or breaks in speech are indicated by dashes. Thus, — Eh! — what — why — upon my life, and so it is — Charley, my boy, so it ’s you, is it ? — Lever. 2. Parenthetical expressions may be set off by dashes (see p. 395). 3. A colon, or colon and dash, may precede an enumeration, a direct quotation, or a statement formally introduced, — especially with as follows, namely, and the like. Thus, — There are eight parts of speech: — nouns, pronouns, adjectives, verbs, adverbs, prepositions, conjunctions, and interjections. 4. The dash is sometimes used to strengthen a comma (as in the last paragraph but one). Note. — For the dash in the salutation of a letter, see pp. 82-83. 398 THE MOTHEK TOJNGUE. VII. 1. The apostrophe is used — a. To mark the omission of a letter or letters in contractions. h. As a sign of the genitive or possessive. c. To indicate the plural of letters, signs, etc. 2. The hyphen is used — a. When the parts of a word are separated in writing. h. Between the parts of some compound words. (See the Dictionary in each case.) BUSINESS FORMS. Brief papers of a business character, like bills, notes, receipts, and checks, are drawn up in accordance with certain well- established forms. For these forms the pupil may properly consult his arithmetic or his copy-book. For convenience, however, specimens of such papers are given below. [Time Note.] $375.25. Philadelphia, Pa., April 2, 1901. Six months after date, I promise to pay Benjamin Parker three hundred seventy-five and dollars, with interest at 5%. Value received. Robert Overton. [Demand Note.] $375.25. Philadelphia, Pa., April 17, 1901. On demand, I promise to pay Benjamin Parker three hundred seventy-five and dollars, with interest at 5%. Value received. Robert Overton. BUSINESS FOBMS. 399 These are promissory notes. They are payable to Benjamin Parker alone unless they bear his signature on the back (endorsement) . In either note the name of Benjamin Parker might be followed by the words or hearer., in which case the note would be payable to any one having lawful possession of it. Or the name might be followed by the words or order, when the note would become payable to the bearer if endorsed by Benjamin Parker. [Bank Draft.] $600.25. New York, N.Y., August 12, 1900. Pay to the order of James Drew six hundred and dollars, value received, and charge to account of Shoe & Leather l^Tational Bank, Smith, Leland & Co. Boston, Mass. [Bank Check.] $310.50. Boston, Mass., March 27, 1901. Third National Bank, Boston, Mass. Pay to the order of John Hill three hundred ten and John Enderby. dollars. $520. [Receipt on account.] Chicago, III., Dec. 22, 1900. Received of James L. Williams five hundred twenty dollars on account. tit t George M. Lyman. [Receipt in full.] $325. San Francisco, Cal., July, 1901. Received of John Cotton three hundred twenty-five dollars in full of all demands to date. Gerald Norton. 400 THE MOTHER TONGUE. [Bills.] Boston, Mass., March 12, 1901. Mr. Alfred Lee, Bought of Henderson & Lewis. 40 tons Coal @ 14.75 $190 00 20 cords Wood @ 3.25 65 00 1255 00 New York, Jan. 1, 1901. Mr. Henry Fitzgerald, To James Brown, Dr. 1900 Nov. 3 To 10 lbs. Coffee (g 35 c. $3 50 22 11 lbs. Lard @ 9 c. 99 Dec. 5 “ 25 lbs. Sugar @ 5c. 1 25 12 2 lbs. Tea @ 65 c. 1 30 17 04 Jan. 12, 1901. Received Payment, James Brown. AVhen a bill is paid, it is receipted by writing at the bottom the date of payment and the words Received Payment, followed by the name of the person or firm rendering the account. If a clerk has authority to sign his employer’s name, he signs his own name (preceded by the word by ox per) under that of his employer. ENGLISH PROSODY. There are conflicting theories of English prosody, and no satisfactory system of indicating our verse-structure has yet been devised. The fact is that the movements of English metre are too varied and too delicate to be represented without a very complicated set of symbols. Pauses and quantity undoubtedly play their part in English versification; but it is almost impossible to reduce these elements to a system. In this brief sketch of prosody the simplest method of indicating verse-structure is followed. Pauses (except the caesura) are not considered, and quantity is also ignored. The scansion adopted is only a rough-and-ready indication of the general movement of the verse. It is, however, sufficient for the purposes of an elementary classification. The teacher will of course con- sult such works as Schipper’s “ Handbuch der Englischen Metrik,” Guest’s “History of English Rhythms,” Mayor’s “English Metre,” and Lanier’s “ English Verse,” and he will find Gummere’s “ Handbook of Poetics ” of great practical value. He must be prepared, however, to discover that doctors disagree, for the whole subject is far from settled, even in the minds of the “ best authorities.” Prosody treats of the structure and movement of verse. METRE. Poetry, as distinguished from prose, has metre. In other words, the syllables are arranged in little groups of similar length and structure, called feet ; and a certain number of feet make a line, or verse. The number of feet in a verse differs in different kinds of poetry ; but the variations are governed by the laws of prosody. Often, also, the lines or verses are grouped into larger units, also in accordance with regular laws of measure. Such units are couplets and stanzas (see pp. 408, 411). 401 402 THE MOTHER TONGUE. Poetry, therefore, has a regularly measured movement, whereas prose is free to move as the purpose of the writer or speaker may suggest. The word metre is derived from the Greek meirdn, “ measure,” through the Latin {metrum) and the French {metre). The separation of a verse into its metrical parts, or feet, is called scansion. The corresponding verb is to scan. The scansion of a verse is only a rough method of indicating its metrical structure. It results in a kind of singsong which often misrepresents the actual effect of the verse in expressive reading. KINDS OF FEET. English metre depends in the main upon rhythm, — that is, upon a regular arrangement of accented and unaccented syllables. The unit of metrical structure is the foot. There are several kinds of metrical feet. The most important are the trochee (/ x),^ the iambus or iamb (x /), the dactyl ( / x x), the anapaest (x x /), and the spondee (/ /). The trochee consists of an accented followed by an unaccented syllable (/ x). /xl/x|/x|/x Tall and stately in the valley. — Longfellow, “Hiawatha.” / x|/x|/x|/ xlx x|/x| / xlxx Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December. Poe, “The Raven.” The iambus is the opposite of the trochee. It consists of an unaccented followed by an accented syllable (x /). X / |x/|x /Ix/lx/ I blame you not for praising Caesar so. Shakspere, “Julius Caesar,” Act iii. Scene 1. 1 The symbol / denotes an accented syllable ; the symbol x denotes an unaccented syllable. ENGLISH PROSODY. 403 The dactyl consists of an accented syllable followed by two unaccented syllables ( / x x). /X x|/xx|/ xx|/xx|/xx|xx Entered with serious mien and ascended the steps of the altar. Longfellow, “Evangeline,” iv. The anapaest is the opposite of the dactyl. It consists of two unaccented syllables followed by an accented syllable (x x /). XX xlxxxlxx / Never sick, never old, never dead. The spondee consists of two syllables, both stressed (/ /)• / /|x / (x/|x/ Draws d(^’’rent threads, and late and soon / /|x /|x / lx/ Spins, toiling out his own cocoon. Tennyson, “ The Two Voices.” In many cases one may he in doubt between a trochee and a spondee. A spondee is never absolutely required by the rules of English verse. Hence a trochee may always be substituted. Even in hexameter, where trochees are inadmissible in Latin or Greek, English uses them freely (see p. 407). This is one of the reasons why it is hard to write an English hexameter that satisfies a classical scholar. With beginners, the distinction between trochees and spondees should not be much insisted on. A verse that ends with an incomplete foot is said to be cata- lectic. Thus, — / xl/ x|/x|/A When shall we three meet again? Shakspere, “ Macbeth,” Act i, Scene 1. The absence of the last part of the foot may be indicated by a caret ( A ), as in the example. The omission of a syllable is sometimes regarded as analogous to a rest in music. An unaccented syllable after the last iambus does not affect the general structure or the classification of the line. This syl- lable is often called an extra syllable, and the verse is often said to be hypermetrical (“over the measure ”). 404 THE MOTHER TONGUE. Thus the first of the two following verses is classed as a deca- syllabic verse, though it actually has eleven syllables by reason of the “ extra syllable.’' X /|x xlx /lx / lx /lx Do faithful homage and receive free honors. Shakspere, “ Macbeth,” Act iii, Scene 6. Such extra syllables are always found in iambic verse which has feminine rhyme (p. 405). Substitutions of one foot for another are extremely common in English verse. The various feet will be abundantly illustrated in the examples of couplets and of stanzaic structure which follow (pp. 408-17). Observe the numerous substitutions. A verse is named from its prevailing foot, — trochaic, iambic, dactylic, anapaestic. A verse of one foot is called a monometer ; one of two feet, a dimeter ; of three, a trimeter ; of four, a tetrameter ; of five, a pentameter ; of six, an hexameter. The name hexameter is usually restricted to the dactylic hexameter (see p. 407). Examples of dimeters, etc., will be found in the stanzas quoted below (pp. 411-17). The seventh verse in the following passage is an iambic monometer (x /) : When icicles hang by the wall, And Dick the shepherd blows his nail. And Tom hears logs into the hall. And milk comes frozen home in pail; When blood is nipped, and ways be foul. Then nightly sings the staring owl “ Tuwhoo! “Tuwhit! tuwhoo!” A merry note! While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. Shakspere, “ Love’s Labor’s Lost,” Act v. Scene 2. ENGLISH PROSODY. 405 C^SURA. Most verses are divided into two parts by a metrical pause, called the caesura, which may or may not coincide with a pause in the sense or with the end of a foot. The caesura is indicated by the symbol ||. The place of the caesura varies in different kinds of verse and often in different verses of the same general structure. In many cases there maybe a difference of opinion as to where it falls. Some verses have two caesuras. For examples of the caesura, see pp. 406, 408-17. RHYME. English versification makes frequent use of a peculiar cor- respondence between the sounds of different words. This is known as rhyme. ^ The usage of modern English poetry requires, for a perfect rhyme, that the words shall agree in their vowel sound and in any consonant sound that follows the vowel, but that they shall not agree in the consonant sound that precedes the vowel. The rhyming syllables must also have the same accent. Thus, — three, tree; six, sticks; old, bold; remain, constrain; nation, reputation ; bough, now ; beau, show. When the rhyming syllables are complete words (monosyllahles) or final accented syllables, the rhyme is called single, or masculine. Thus, — well, fell; brand, banned ; say, obey; ill, fulfil; inspire, choir ; sure, secure; deceive, believe; change, derange; before, adore; wood, understood; indeed, proceed; cavalier, hear. When the rhyme includes both an accented and a following (unaccented) syllable, it is called a double or feminine rhyme. 1 The word is here restricted to end-rhyme, in accordance with ordinary usage. For alliteration, see p. 418. 406 THE MOTHER TONGUE. Thus, — swinging, ringing ; decided, guided ; steady, ready ; defences, senses ; faster, alabaster ; contradiction, conviction ; exactly, compactly. Note. — The unaccented syllable may be an independent monosyllabic word. Thus, — send it, mend it; charm him, harm him; said it, credit;-^ certain, desert in, alert in (Byron); o’erthrdwn he, Macdne (Byron). A wight he was whose very sight would Entitle him “ Mirror of Knighthood.^' — Butler, “ Hudibras,” i, 1. • In a triple rhyme the accented syllable is followed by two unaccented syllables. Thus, — furious, injurious ; ravelling, travelling; geography, topogra- phy; particle, article. Triple rhymes are rare in serious poetry. In humorous verse they are often whimsically used for comic effect. I have seen Napoleon, who seemed quite a Jupiter ^ Shrink to a Saturn. I have seen a duke (No matter which) turn politician stupider^ If that can well be, than his wooden look. But it is time that I should hoist my “ blue Peter" And sail for a new theme. — Byron. Blank verse is verse without rhyme. The term is specially applied to unrhymed iambic verse of ten syllables, like that of Shakspere and Milton. X / \ X /|xll/lx/lx / Thus they their doubtful consultations dark Ended, rejoicing in their matchless chief: As, when from mountain tops the dusky clouds Ascending, while the north wind sleeps, overspread Heav’n’s cheerful face, the low’ring element Scowls o’er the darkened landskip snow or shower. If chance the radiant sun, with farewell sweet. Extend his ev’ning beam, the fields revive. The birds their notes renew, and bleating herds Attest their joy, that hill and valley rings. Milton, “ Paradise Lost,” Book ii, verses 486-95. In the example observe the substitution of a trochee (x x) for an iambus (x /) in verses 2 {ended) and 6 {scdwls o'er). ENGLISH PKOSODY- 407 Blank verse is very monotonous if there is a pause at the end of nearly every line, — that is, if all or most of the verses are end-stopped/’ Thus, — There resteth all. But if they fail thereof, And if the end bring forth an ill success, On them and theirs the mischief shall befall, — And so I pray the gods requite it them. And so they will, for so is wont to be. Sackville, “ Gorboduc,” Act i. Scene 1. An intermixture of ‘‘run-on lines” (that is, of lines which have no pause at the end) is necessary to give blank verse an agreeable variety. Thus, — If it were done when Tis done, then ’twere well It were done quickly. If th’ assassination Could trammel up the consequence, and catch With his surcease, success, that but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here, — But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, — We ’d jump the life to come. Shakspere, “ Macbeth,” Act i. Scene 7. The extra syllable (p. 403) is also used to vary the structure of blank verse (as in the second line of the preceding example). Blank verse is one of the commonest of English metres, espe- cially in the drama (as in Shakspere) and in narrative poems (as “Paradise Lost”.). The following well-known works are in blank verse : — Young’s “ Night Thoughts ” ; Cowper’s “ Task ” ; Thomson’s “ Seasons ” ; Byron’s “ Manfred ” ; Keats’s “ Hype- rion ” ; Wordsworth’s “ Excursion ” ; Tennyson’s “ Princess,” “ Idylls of the King,” and “ Enoch Arden.” Unrhymed dactylic hexameters are sometimes used in narrative poetry, as in Longfellow’s “ Evangeline.” Thus, — /xx|/x|/Ilx x|/xx|/xx|/ X Oft on autumnal eves when without in the gathering darkness Bursting with light seemed the smithy, through every cranny and crevice. Warm by the forge within they watched the laboring bellows. 408 THE MOTHER TONGUE. The Greek and Latin hexameter consists of dactyls and spon- dees; in English, however, the so-called spondees in hexameter are usually trochees (see p. 403). COUPLETS. A group of two rhymed lines of like metrical structure is called a couplet. The commonest couplets are the heroic or ten-syllable (deca- syllabic) couplet, and the short or eight-syllable (octosyllabic) couplet; but there are many other varieties. 1. The ten-syllable (decasyllabic) or heroic couplet; two iambic pentameters. X / lx xlxll / |x / |x/ Tis strange the miser should his cares employ! To gain those riches he can ne’er enjoy: Is it less strange the prodigal should waste His wealth, to purchase what he ne’er can taste? Pope, “ Moral Essays,” Epistle iv, verses 1-4. Now while the silent workings of the dawn Were busiest, into that selfsame lawn. All suddenly, with joyful cries there sped A troop of little children garlanded; Who, gathering round the altar, seemed to pry Earnestly round, as wishing to espy Some folk of holiday; nor had they waited For many moments, ere their ears were sated With a faint break of music, which ev’n then Filled out its voice, and died away again. Keats, “Endymion,” Book i, verses 107-16. The heroic couplet is susceptible of great variety and also of deadening monotony. It is one of the commonest of English rhythms. See, for example, many of Chaucer’s “ Canterbury Tales ” ; many passages in Shakspere ; most of the poems of Dryden, Pope, and their school ; Goldsmith’s “ Traveller ” and ! The place of the caesura often varies in different verses of the same extract. The scheme applies to the first verse in each case. ENGLISH PROSODY. 409 ^‘Deserted Village”; Cowper’s ‘‘Table Talk,” etc.^, Byron’s “ English Bards and Scotch Reviewers ” ; Keats’s “ Endymion ” and “Lamia ” ; Shelley’s “ Epipsychidion,” “ Letter to Maria Gisborne,” and “Julian and Maddalo ” ; Campbell’s “ Pleasures of Hope.” 2. The eight-syllable (octosyllabic') couplet ; two iambic tetram- eters. I I II I / xlx /ixll/|x / X /|x /lxll/|x / Soon as the midnight bell did ring, Alone, and armed, forth rode the king To that old camp’s deserted round. Sir knight, you well might mark the mound, Left hand the town, — the Pictish race The trench, long since, in blood did trace; The moor around is brown and bare. The space within is green and fair. The spot our village children know. For there the earliest wild flowers grow; But woe betide the wandering wight That treads its circle in the night! Scott, “Marmion,” Canto iii, 23. In the first line note the substitution of a trochee for an iambus in the first foot. This couplet has been much used in narrative poetry, as in Chaucer’s “ House of Fame ” ; Gower’s “ Confessio Amantis ” ; Burns’s “Twa Dogs” and “ Tam O’Shanter ” ; Scott’s “Lay of the Last Minstrel,” “ Marmion,” and “ Lady of the Lake ” ; Byron’s “Giaour” and “Bride of Abydos”; Wordsworth’s “White Doe of Rylstone.” The eight-syllable verse is often called Hudibrastic, from its use in Samuel Butler’s satirical poem “ Hudibras.” For rhetoric, he could not ope His mouth but out there flew a trope; And when he happen’d to break off I’ th’ middle of his speech, or cough, H’ had hard words ready, to show why And tell what rules he did it by; Else, when with greatest art he spoke. You ’d think he talk’d like other folk. Butler, “ Hudibras,” Part i. Canto 1. 410 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 3. The seven-syllable trochaic couplet ; two trochaic tetram- eters catalectic. / x|/ xll/xl/ A Blessings on thee, little man, Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan! With thy turned up pantaloons. And thy merry whistled tunes. Whittier, “ The Barefoot Boy.” Once again my call obey! Prophetess, arise, and say What dangers Odin’s child await. Who the author of his fate. Gray, “ The Descent of Odin.” Four iambic feet may be substituted, as in the third verse of the extract from Gray (x / | x / | x /lx /). 4. The fourteen-syllable iambic couplet. X /|x /lx /Ix/llx / lx /lx / ’Twas in the wilds of Lebanon, amongst its barren hills, — To think upon it, even now, my very blood it chills ! — My sketch-book spread before me, and my pencil in my hand, I gazed upon the mountain range, the red tumultuous sand. The plumy palms, the sombre firs, the cedars tall and proud, — When lo! a shadow passed across the paper like a cloud. And looking up I saw a form, apt figure for the scene, Methought I stood in presence of an oriental queen. Hood, “The Desert-Born.” Such verses are usually divided by the caesura into two parts of eight and six syllables respectively. 5. Fifteen-syllable trochaic couplets; eight trochees, the last catalectic. /xl/ x| / x|/xll/xI/x|/x|/A Yet I doubt not through the ages one increasing purpose runs. And the thoughts of men are widened with the process of the suns. Tennyson, “ Locksley Hall.” Such verses are usually divided by the caesura into two parts of eight and seven syllables respectively. ENGLISH rKOSODY. 411 6. The sixteen-syllable trochaic couplet. / x|/x|/xl/xll/'x|/x| / xl/x Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December. Poe, “ The Raven.” Such verses are usually divided into halves by the caesura. In ‘‘ The Kaven ” the two halves rhyme. 7. The eleven-syllable anapaestic couplet ; one iambus and three anapaests. X /|x X /Ixllx /I XX / Here lies our good Edmund, whose genius was such. We scarcely can praise it or blame it too much; Who, born for the universe, narrowed his mind. And to party gave up what was meant for mankind ; Though fraught with all learning, yet straining his throat To persuade Tommy Townshend to lend him a vote. Goldsmith, “Retaliation,” verses 29-34. The first foot may be either an iambus (as in the first three lines and the fifth) or an anapaest (as in the fourth and sixth lines). The caesura is usually in the third foot, sometimes after the second (as in the fourth line). STANZAS. A regular group of more than two verses is called a stanza. A stanza is often less properly called a verse. The number of possible varieties of stanza is unlimited.^ Some of the most important kinds will now be mentioned. 1. Three-line stanza with a single rhyme ; three iambic pentam- eters. / /|x /llx/|x/|x / X /lx / II X / I X / I X / X /| / /llx/|x/|x / Rain, rain, and sun! a rainbow in the sky! A young man will be wiser by and by; An old man’s wit may wander ere he die. Tennyson, “ The Coming of Arthur.” In the first verse the first foot is distinctly spondaic {rain rain). No one would think of reading it as an iambus {rain rain). 1 This variety is particularly exemplified in songs and other lyrical poems. See, for instance, Schelling’s “Elizabethan Lyrics” and “Sev- enteenth Century Lyrics ” and Palgrave’s “Golden Treasury.” 412 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 2. Four-line stanza consisting of two eight-syllable iambic couplets. XX / |xx / |x /Ix / X / | X / |x x|x / In the heart of the Hills of Life, I know Two springs, that with unbroken flow Forever pour their lucent streams Into my soul’s far Lake of Dreams. Lanier, “ My Springs.” The first two feet in the first verse are anapaests. 3. Four -line stanza with alternate rhyme (ahah’^). Each verse consists of four iambs. X /lx /llx /lx/ The merry world did on a day With his train-hands and mates agree To meet together where I lay And all in sport to jeer at me. George Herbert, “The Quip.” 4. The same as No. 3, but with feminine rhyme in the second and fourth verses. 41 X /lx / II X /|x / The peeress comes. The audience stare. And doff their hats with due submission. She curtsies, as she takes the chair. To all the people of condition. Gray, “ A Long Story,” stanza 28. 5. Four -line stanza rhyming alternately (ah ah). The first and third verses consist of four iambs ; the second and fourth of three. Around in sympathetic mirth Its tricks the kitten tries; The cricket chirrups in the hearth; The crackling fagot flies. Goldsmith, “The Hermit,” stanza 14. 1 The order of the letters indicates the order of the rhymes. Thus ah ah indicates that there are four verses in the stanzas, and two rhymes, and further that the first verse rhymes with the third and the second with the fourth. ENGLISH PROSODY. 413 6. The same as No. 5, except that the first and third lines do not rhyme. upon the right: Out of the sea came he, Still hid in mist, and on the left Went down into the sea. Coleridge, “ Ancient Mariner,” Part ii, stanza 1. The dogs did bark, the children screamed, Up flew the windows all; And every soul cried out, “Well done! ” As loud as he could bawl. — Cowper, “John Gilpin.” 7 . Quatrains : a stanza consisting of four ten-syllable iambic lines, rhyming alternately (ah ah). , V I ' ’ * / W Their cries soon waken all the dwellers near; Now murmuring noises rise in every street ; The more remote run stumbling with their fear, And in the dark men jostle as they meet. Dryden, “ Annus Mirahilis,” stanza 227. Gray’s “ Elegy ” is written in this stanza. 8. Four -line anapaestic stanza; the second and fourth verses X X /II XX /|x / Know that Love is a careless child, And forgets promise past; He is blind, he is deaf when he list, And in faith never fast. His desire is a dureless content. And a trustless joy; He is won with a world of despair. And is lost with a toy. Raleigh (?). In the example the last foot in the first verse and in the sixth is an iambus ; all the other feet in the two stanzas are anapaests. 9. Four-line stanza ; two anapaestic couplets. X X /I X X / II X X /|x X / Macedonia sends forth her invincible race; For a time they abandon the cave and the chase: But those scarfs of blood-red shall be redder, before The sabre is sheathed and the battle is o’er. Byron, “ Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage,” Canto iv, Song after stanza 72. 414 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 10. Four-line stanza, rhyming ah h a\ iambic ; the stanza of Tennyson’s “ In Memoriam.” X / lx / |x/|x / We paused; the winds were in the beech; We heard them sweep the winter land; And in a circle, hand in hand, Sat silent, looking each at each. — Section xxx. There twice a day the Severn fills: The salt sea-water passes by. And hushes half the babbling Wye, And makes a silence in the hills. — Section xix. To-night the winds begin to rise And roar from yonder dropping day; The last red leaf is whirl’d away. The rooks are blown about the skies; The forest crack’d, the waters curl’d. The cattle huddled on the lea; And, wildly dash’d on tower and tree. The sunbeam strikes along the world. — Section xv. 11. Four -line stanza, with alternate rhyme (ahah)\ iambic; verses 1-3 octosyllabic ; verse 4 of four syllables. /x|x /llx /|x / X / I X / Happy the man whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound. Content to breathe his native air In his own ground. — Pope. 12. Five-line stanza ; verses 1, 3, and 5 trochaic; verses 2 and 4 iambic. /x|/x|/x|/A X/lx/|x/lx A /x|/xl/x|/A x/|x/|x/|x A /x|/x|/x| / A Who is Silvia? What is she. That all our swains commend her? Holy, fair, and wise is she; The heaven such grace did lend her That she might admired be. Shakspere, “Two Gentlemen of Verona.” ENGLISH PROSODY. 416 13. Six-line stanza, consisting of four iambic eight-syllable lines rhyming alternately, followed by a couplet in the same metre (ah a h c c^. x'/|x /II x/Ix / There is a change — and I am poor; Your love hath been, nor long ago, A fountain at my fond heart’s door. Whose only business was to flow; And flow it did, not taking heed Of its own bounty or my need. Wordsworth, “ A Complaint.” 14. Six-line stanza rhyming a ah c c h \ iambic ; two octo- syllabic couplets ; a verse of three iambs ; another couplet ; a verse of three iambs. X / |x /|x/|x / X / I X / I X / The youth of green savannahs spake, And many an endless, endless lake With all its fairy crowds Of islands that together lie As quietly as spots of sky Among the evening clouds. Wordsworth, Ruth,” stanza 12. 15. Six-line stanza of decasyllabic iambic verses, the first four rhyming alternately, the last two forming a couplet (ah ah c c^. X /|x/||x/|x /|x / With sacrifice before the rising morn Vows have I made by fruitless hope inspired; And from the infernal gods, ’mid shades forlorn Of night, my slaughtered lord have I required: Celestial pity I again implore, — Restore him to my sight — great Jove, restore! Wordsworth, “Laodamia.” By all means use sometimes to be alone. Salute thyself; see what thy soul doth wear. Dare to look in thy chest, for ’tis thine own, And tumble up and down what thou find’st there. Who cannot rest till he good fellows find. He breaks up house, turns out of doors his mind. George Herbert, “ The Church Porch,” stanza 25. 416 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 16. Rhyme royal : seven-line stanza of decasyllabic iambic verses, rhyming a h a h h c c. And though your grene youthe flour e as yit, In crepeth age alwey, as stille as stoon, And death manaceth every age, and smit In ech estat, for ther escapeth noon : And al so certein as we knowe echoon That we shul deye, as uncerteyn we alle Ben of that day when death shal on us falle. Chaucer, “The Clerk’s Tale,” stanza 10. 17. Eight decasyllabic iambic verses, rhyming ah ah ah c c. In the mid days of autumn, on their eves The break of winter comes from far away. And the sick west continually bereaves Of some gold tinge, and plays a roundelay Of death among the hushes and the leaves. To make all hare before he dares to stray From his north cavern. So sweet Isabel By gradual decay from beauty fell. Keats, “ Isabella,” stanza 32. 18. Nine-line stanza (the Spenserian stanza), rhyming ahahhchcc^ iambic ; all decasyllabic except the last which is an Alexandrine (x / | x / I x / II x / I x / i x /). Behold the merry minstrels of the morn. The swarming songsters of the careless grove, Ten thousand throats! that from the flowering thorn Hymn their good God, and carol sweet of love. Such grateful kindly raptures them emove: They neither plough nor sow; ne, fit for flail. E’er to the barn the nodden sheaves they drove; Yet theirs each harvest dancing in the gale. Whatever crowns the hill, or smiles along the vale, x/lx /|x /llx /|x/lx / Thomson, “ Castle of Indolence,” Canto i, stanza 10. This stanza was first used by Spenser in “ The Faerie Queene.'' It is also found in Byron’s “ Childe Harold,” Keats’s “Eve of St. Agnes,” and many other poems. ENGLISH PROSODY. 417 19 . Ten-line stanza, rhyming ahahcdecde\ all decasyllabic iambic verses, except the eighth, which is of six syllables. Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the selfsame song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears among the alien corn; The same that ofttimes hath Charmed magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn. Keats, “ Ode to a Nightingale.” A powerful effect is sometimes produced by rhyming together a considerable number of lines, as in the following extraordinary passage from Hood : — Gold! gold! gold! gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold. Molten, graven, hammered, and rolled; Heavy to get and light to hold; Hoarded, bartered, bought, and sold; Stolen, borrowed, squandered, doled: Spurned by the young, but hugged by the old To the very verge of the churchyard mould — Price of many a crime untold; Gold! gold! gold! gold! Good or bad a thousand-fold! Hood, “Miss Kilmansegg.” THE SONNET. The sonnet is not a stanza but a complete poem of fourteen ten-syllable iambic verses. In the strict type of the sonnet (the so-called “ Petrar- chan type ”) the verses form two groups, — the octave (of eight verses) and the sestet (of six verses). The octave has two rhymes, arranged a h b a h b a. The 418 THE MOTHEK TONGUE. sestet has either two or three rhymes, which are differ- ent from those of the octave and are arranged either c d c d c d oi\ page VIQ) ot e d e c d e, Cyriack, whose grandsire on the royal bench Of British Themis, with no mean applause, Pronounced, and in his volumes taught, our laws. Which others at their bar so often wrench. To-day deep thoughts resolve with me to drench In mirth that after no repenting draws ; Let Euclid rest, and Archimedes pause. And what the Swede intends, and what the French. To measure life learn thou betimes, and know Toward solid good what leads the nearest way ; For other things mild Heaven a time ordains. And disapproves that care, though wise in show. That with superfluous burden loads the day. And, when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains. — Milton. Shakspere’s sonnets are rhymed as follows, — ah ah, c d c ef efj g g. ALLITERATION. Words alliterate when they begin with the same sound or combination of sounds : as, — merry maiden, Zovely /ady, stiver and ^Aake, Pride and Prejudice, ‘‘ Sense and Sensibility.” Alliteration according to fixed rules was a characteristic of the oldest English (Anglo-Saxon) poetry, which seldom had end- rhyme. Regular alliteration without end-rhyme is also found in many poems of later date. Occasional alliteration often occurs in modern verse and is common in prose. Thus, — When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought. And with old i(Joes new W 2 n\ my dear time’s ^(;aste. Shakspere, Sonnet xxx. This brave o’erhanging prmament, this majestical roof, /retted with goldenpre, — why, it appears no other thing to me than a/oul and pesti- lent congregation of vapors. — Shakspere, “ Hamlet,” Act ii. Scene 2. IITDEX. [The references below are to pages ; f. signifies “ and following page ” ; ff. signifies “ and following pages.”] Abstracts, 230 f. Accent in prosody, 402. Accessory facts, in introduction, 131, 253. Accuracy in use of words, 30. See Correctness, Precision. Action in stories, 124 ff. ; advanced by conversation, 139; divided, 144 ff. ; in description, 166 ff., 169 f., 191 f. ; in explanation, examples, 199 f., 201 f. ; words expressing, 125 ff., 190. Exer- cises, 125 ff., 152 ff., 359 f. Active and passive, 47. Adaptation to the reader. 111. See Appropriateness. Addison, Joseph, 185, 360. Address of a letter, 81. Adjectives, study of, 33, 374 ff. ; adjectives, phrases, and clauses, 47 ; errors in use of, 385. See Words. Adventure, stories of, 147, 149 f. Adverbs, adverbial phrases and clauses, 47. Advertisements, 103 ff. ; specimens, 96 f., 103 ff. Exercises, 103 ff. iEsop, 148. Exercises based on, 26, 130, 154, 358. Allegory, 148, 336. Alliteration, 418. Ambiguity, 345, 389 f. Analogy. See Comparison. Anapaest and anapaestic verse, 403 f . , 411, 413. And, abuse of, 72, 282 f . ; and which, 385. Anecdotes, specimens, 24, 64. See Stories. Announcements, 101 ff. Exercises, 102 f. Antecedent or accessory facts, state- ment of, in introduction, 131, 253. Anticlimax, 294. Antithesis, 290 ff. See Contrast. Antonyms, 37 ff. ; compared with synonyms, 38 ; list, 38 f . ; forma- tion, 40. Exercises, 38 ff. Apostrophe, sign, 398; figure of speech, 336. Appreciation, 6, 124, 241 ff. Appropriateness, 312 ff., 322 ff. ; special questions of, 325 f. Archaisms, 307 f., 326; in poetry, 308. Argument, 244 ff. ; relation to ex- planation, 244, 248, 253; kinds of argument, 245 f. ; of fact, 247 f. ; of theory or principle, 248 f. ; of policy, 249 ff. ; from authority, 419 420 THE MOTHER TONGUE. 250 f . ; persuasion, 251 f . ; form of an argument, 253 f. ; refutation, 254 f . ; debate, 255 ff. ; briefs, 258 ff . ; subjects for, 245 f ., 368 ff. Exercises, 258 ff., 368 ff. Arnold, Matthew, 171, 176, 341 f. Exercises based on, 171, 360. Arnold, Thomas, 172 f. Arrangement of material, 25 ff. ; in stories, 25 ff., 129 f. ; in descrip- tions, 187, 192 f . ; in explanations, 214 ff. ; in arguments, 253 f . Arrangement of the paragraph, 263 ff. ; for proportion, 187, 192 f., 263 f., 272 ; sequence, 71 f., 267 f., 270 f. ; clearness, 270 f. ; cogency, 267 f. ; emphasis, 267, 293. Arrangement of words and phrases in the sentence for perspicuity, 275, 279, 284, 345; for unity, 42 ff . ; for variety and emphasis, 47 ff., 57 ff., 275 ff., 287 ff. See Antithesis, Balance, Climax, Par- allel, Periodic. Article, faulty insertion of, 384; omission of, 390. Associations of words, 170, 327 f. Atmosphere in description, 173 ff., 198. Exercises, 176, 178, 195. Audience, conciliation or prepara- tion of, 250. Austen, Jane, 150. Authority, argument from, 250 f. ; basis of, in language, 304 ff. Authors. See Literature. Bacon, Lord, 291 ff., 296, 331. Balanced sentences, 292. Barbarisms, 309. Barrie, J. M., 141. Bible, 125, 323, 375; stories, 125. Biography, 147, 151 ; order in, 25. Black, William, 163. Blank verse, 406 f. Body of a letter, 83. Borrow, George, 185. Botany, explanation in, 203 ff. Exercise in description, 364. Boyesen, H. H., 128. Brevity, 338 ff . Briefs for argument and debate, 258 ff. Bronte, Emily, 185. Browning, Robert, 127 f. Buckley, Arabella, 70. Bunner, H. C., 128. Burke, Edmund, 295. Burns, Robert, 358, 409. Burroughs, John, 190. Business letters. See Letter-writing. Business transactions, items in, with correspondence, 95 ff . ; busi- ness forms, 398 ff. But, overused, 72 ; but which, 385. Butler, Samuel, 406, 409. Byron, Lord, 180, 336, 406 ff., 413, 417. CAESURA, 405. Campbell, Thomas, 60, 127, 409. Capitals, rules for, 391; emphatic or topical, 391. Carlyle, Jane Welsh, 348 ff. Exer- cise based on, 274. Cases of pronouns, errors in, 384 f. Catalectic verse, 403. Cause and effect, 204 (last para- graph), 209 (paragraph 2), 273, 371 f. Central point in a description, 182, 192 f . Chains of relatives, 288. Character in stories, 138, 142, 149 f . ; in description, 183 ff. ; in conver- sation, 138 ; novels of, 149 f . Exer- cises, 357 f., 362. INDEX. 421 Chaucer, Geoffrey, 180, 185, 408 f., 416. Choice of material. See Selection. Choice of words, 29 ff . , 303 ff . Exer- cises, 30 ff., 374 ff. See Words. Chronological order. See Time. Circular letters, 101 ff. Circumstantial description, 163 f., 226. See Explanatory. Clauses and infinitives, 47, 50 f. ; adjective and adverbial, 47. Clearness, 3 ff., 110, 345; in para- graphs, 270 f. See Ambiguity, Precision. Climax, 293 f . ; in stories, 134 ; in con- clusion, 134, 152; in paragraphs, 372. Close of a letter, formal, 83 f. ; of a paragraph, 267 f. See Conclusion. Cogency in paragraphs, 267 f. Coherence, 272. Coleridge, S. T., 189, 413. Colloquial English, 310 f. Colon, 395 ff. Colors in description and in paint- ing, 165 f. Comma, 393 ff. Comparison, of objects, 38; in de- scriptions, 179; in explanation, 207 ff., 222; in literary criticism, 241 f . ; in figures of speech, 332 ; in paragraphs, 179, 204 (para- graphs 2, 4), 207, 222, 280, 331, 350 (first paragraph), 358, 372. Exercises, 7, 358, 372. Complex sentences, 47, 285 ff. ; rela- tion to thought, 285 ff. ; emphasis in, 287 ; chains of relatives, 288. Exercises, 49 ff ., 52 ff., 55 f., 301 f. Complication of plot, 144 ff. Composition, uses of, 3 ff. ; nature of, 5 ; necessity of practice, 5 f . ; subjects and titles, 17 ff., 72, 357 f. ; forms and types, 107 f., 109 ff. See Table of Contents and Intro- duction ; see also Oral. Compound sentences, necessity of unity, 42 ff . ; use of, 281 f . ; abuse, 282 ff. Exercises, 43 f. Conciliation or preparation of audi- ence in introduction, 250. Conciseness, 99 f., 101, 103, 338 ff. Conclusion, in stories, 134 f. ; in explanations, 225 ; in arguments, 254; summary, 225, 254; logical, 135 ; climax, 134, 152. Exercises, 135. Condensation, 100, 139 ; of dialogue, 139 f. ; of style, 338 ff. Condensed expressions, 51. Conjunctions and connective phrases in transition, 72, 269 ff. Exercises, 274. Consciousness, stream of, 276 f., 327. Construction of plot, 144 ff. Contents. See Material, Coherence, Unity. Contrast, 38 f., 41; in description, 362; in the paragraph, 207 ff., 208 (last paragraph), 349 (last paragraph), 352 (paragraph 2), 358, 371 f., 375 f. See Antithesis. Conversation, written, 64 ; in stories, 138 ff. ; character in, 138 ; report- ing action, 139; condensed, 139 f. ; explanation in, 229; dialect in, 138, 326. Exercises, 140, 359. Cooper, J. F., 140. Coordination should not violate unity, 42 ff. ; monotonous, 72, 282 f. Copiousness, 340. Correctness in words, 312 ff., 315 ff . ; general and specific words, 315 f . ; technical terms, 316 f . ; in syntax, 383 ff. 422 THE MOTHER TONGUE. Correspondence. See Letter-writ- ing. Couplets, kinds of, 408 ff. Cowper, William, 143, 168 f., 176, 180, 336, 407 f., 413. Exercises based on, 168 f . Critical faculty, 124, 143. Criticism, of compositions, xvii f. ; literary, 241 ff. Curtis, G. W., 70. Dactyls and dactylic verses, 403 f . ; hexameter, 403, 407 f. Dana, R. H., 157 f., 180, 191 f. Exercise based on, 194. Dash, 397. Date in a letter, 81 f . De Quincey, Thomas, 340 f . Debate, 255 ff.; subjects, 256, 258 ff., 370; briefs/ 258 ff. Exercises, 258 ff., 370. Declarative sentences, effectiveness of, 61, 280. Definitions, 30, 32 f., 355; and descriptions,' 33 ; in explanation , 215 f. Exercises, 240, 365. Defoe, Daniel, 124, 133, 146, 147 ff., 329, 360. Denying the contrary, 241 f., 355, 372. Description, 157 ff. ; types of, 157 ff., 163 f., 226; distinguished from explanation, 163 f. ; and pictures, 164 ff., 169 f. ; limitations and advantages of, 164 ff., 169 ff . ; outlines and colors in, 165 ff. ; sensations or sense-impressions in, 166 ff., 169 ff. ; light and shade in, 166, 175 f. ; movement in, 166 ff., 169 ff., 191 ; point of view in, 170 ff., 198, 361 f . ; of a place, 172 ff. ; time and atmosphere in, 173 ff., 178, 198; character in. 183 ff. ; and narrative, combined, 185; not enumeration, 187 f. ; in stories, 189 f . ; action in, 166 ff., 169 f., 191; explanatory or cir- cumstantial, distinguished from impressional, 226 ; specimens, 31, 45 f., 71, 157 ff., 163, 168 ff., 171, 173 ff., 176 f., 179 f., 188 f., 346. Exercises, 33, 66, 68, 86 ff., 168 f., 170 ff., 176, 178, 180, 185 f., 188 f., 194 ff., 357 f., 361 f. See Explana- tory description. Derivation of words, 320 f., 373, 376. Descriptive words, exercises in, 33, 374 ff. Details, selection among, 21 ff. ; function of, 23; in stories, 129 f., 141 ff. ; in description, 157, 182, 187 ff., 192 f. ; in paragraphs, 8 f., 31, 46, 70 f., 157 f., 159 f., 177, 183, 188 f., 216 f., 232, 371 f. Exer- cises, 23 f., 70, 359, 371 f. Diagrams in explanation, 223; ex- amples of their use, 205 f., 210. Exercises, 239, 365 f. Dialect words, 311 ; in stories, 138, 326. Dialogue. See Conversation. Dickens, Charles, 28, 71, 142, 144 f., 146, 149, 157, 159 f., 174 f., 184, 187, 192, 242, 322. Exercises based on, 154, 176, 186, 194 f., 371. Dictionary, use of, 30, 32, 35, 343 f. Exercises, 30, 373 ff. Digests. See Abstracts. Dignity of style, 324 ff. Direct narration, 136, 139. Exer- cises, 137, 360. Direction of a letter, 84. Directness and emphasis, 280 f. Discursiveness, 340. Dobson, Austin, 185. Double rhyme, 405. INDEX. 423 Drama, 132 f. Dryden, John, 180, 185, 242, 408, 413. Dynamic description, 226. See Description. Ease, assisted by transition, 71 f., 268 ff. Effect and cause, in paragraphs, 273, 371 f. See Cause. Effectiveness, comparative, of de- clarative, interrogative, impera- tive, and exclamatory sentences, 61. Effects in description, 164 ff. ; time of day, weather, etc., 173 ff. See Sense-impressions . Elements of sentences, 43, 47 ff., 54 ff. Eliot, George, 146, 149, 167, 177 f., 183 f., 187, 191 f.,241, 322. Exer- cises based on, 178, 194, 358, 374. Emphasis, methods of, in the sen- tence, 57 ff. ; in equivalent con- struction, 47 ; in the paragraph, 267, 293 ; of simple sentences, 280 f . ; of a series, 281. Exercises, 57 ff. See Antithesis, Climax. End-stopped verses, 407. Engineering, explanation in, 207 ff. English language, standard of, 304 ff. ; foreign words in, 308 f. ; derivation of words, 320 f. See Dictionary. Enumeration in description, 187 ff. Epitome, outline presented in, in introduction, 26, 218. Equivalent constructions, 47 ff. Exercises, 48 ff. Essay, structure of. See Arrange- ment, Outline, Paragraph. Evidence, 245 f., 247 ; direct and indirect, 247 ; antecedent prob- ability, 247 ; sign, 247. Examples, in explanation, 221, 224 ; in argument, 250 f., 252; para- graphs containing, 161 f., 174 f., 221, 224, 295, 371 f. Exclamatory sentences, effective- ness, 61. Expansion of condensed expres- sions, 52 ; of sentences by means of modifiers, 55 f . ; of topic sen- tence, 62 f., 265 f. Expediency, questions of, in argu- ment, 249 f. Experiences, one’s own, as subject, 17 f., 141. Explanation, in narratives and stories, 123, 133 ; distinguished from description, 163 f . ; informal, 199 f . ; in narrative form, with description, 201 f. ; of scientific and technical subjects, for gen- eral reader, 203 ff., 207 ff. ; im- portance of, 211 ; nature of, 211 ff. ; process of, illustrated, 211 f. ; of a game, 211 f. ; outline or plan, notes for, 214 f. ; topics in notes, 214 f. ; key-sentence, 215 f . ; how to make an outline, 214 ff. ; arrangement of topics, 216 f . ; introduction, 218 f. ; transition, 219 f . ; use of examples, 221, 224 ; liveliness, 224; conclusion, 225; in recitations, 227 ff. ; in written “tests,” 228; in conversation, 229 ; of character, 231 f . ; sum- mary of principles and practice, 232 f. ; of abstract ideas, 240; and argument, 244, 253; specimens, 199 ff. Exercises, 7, 73 ff., 211, 215 f., 221, 234 ff., 363 ff., 367 f. Explanatory narrative, 123. Explanatory or circumstantial description, 163, 226. Exercises, 7, 66, 68, 72 ff., 86, 238 f., 363 ff. 424 THE MOTHER TONGUE. Exposition. See Explanation. Exposition of character, 231 f. Expository narrative, 123. Expressiveness, 314, 326 ff. ; gen- eral and specific words, 329 ; fig- ures of speech, 330 ff. ; use and abuse of figures, 337 f. Extra syllable in verse, 403 f. Fables, 148; moral in, 135. See iEsop. Fact, arguments of, 245, 247. Fairy tales, oral tradition, 143, 148. Familiar letters. See Letter-writ- ing. Familiar words, 322 ff. Feelings. See Sense-impressions. Feet in prosody, 401 ff. ; kinds of, 402 ff. Feminine rhyme, 405. Fiction, 147 ff. Figures. See Diagrams. Figures of similarity, 332 ff. Figures of speech, 308, 330 ff. ; in ordinary talk, 330; in elevated style, 331 ; simile and metaphor, 332 ff. ; metonymy, 335 ; personi- fication, 335 f . ; allegory, 148, 336 ; apostrophe, 336 ; alliteration, 418; use and abuse of figures, 337 f . ; mixed metaphors, 337 f . Exercises, 333, 374, 378 f. First person in narration, 136, 139. Exercises, 137, 360. Florid or flowery style, 308, 323, 337. Force, 47 ff., 280, 290 ff., 303 ff., 326 ff., 338 ff. Foreign words in English, 308 f . ; unnaturalized, 309; barbarisms, 309. Forms. See Letter-writing. Forms, business, 398 ff. Forms of discourse, 105 ff. Franklin, 8 ff., 21, 23, 25, 27, 29, 34, 131. Exercises based on, 23, 29, 41, 48, 53, 60, 186. Freedom of expression, 47 ff. See Variety. Friendly letters. See Letter-writing. Future tense, errors in, 386 f. Game, explanation of, 211 f. Gaskell, Mrs., 185. General and specific words, 315 f., 319, 374, 376. General usage, 306. Geographical comparisons, 179. Goldsmith, 111, 115 ff., 123, 128, 130, 138 f., 141 ff., 180, 185, 334, 408, 411 f. Exercises based on, 125, 129 f., 374. Good use. See Usage. Goss, W. F. M. G., 199, 207 ff., 219 f . , 222 f . , 233. Exercises based on, 377. Gower, John, 409. Grammar, review of, 43, 47, 279; errors in, 383 ff. Grammatical equivalents, 47 ff. Gray, Thomas, 180, 334, 410, 412 f . Green, J. R., 180, 185. Grey, Sir George, 111, 120 ff., 123, 128, 142 f., 190, 199, 201 f., 217, 221, 233, 265. Exercises based on, 216, 374. Grimm, William and James, 111 ff., 123, 130, 133 f., 138 f., 142 f., 189. Exercises based on, 125, 129 f., 374. Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 40, 126, 180, 185, 241, 271 f., 289, 346 ff. Exercises based on, 126, 154, 274, 359 f . Heading of a letter, 82. INDEX. 425 Herbert, George, 412, 415. Heroic couplet, 408 f. Hexameter, 403 f., 407 f. Historical writing, 137, 147. Holmes, O. W., 186. Hood, Thomas, 294, 410, 417. Hudibrastic couplet, 409. Hypermetrical verse, 403 f. Hyphen, 398. Iambus and iambic verses, 402 ff. Idioms, 342. Imitation, 58. Imperative sentences, effectiveness of, 61. Impression. See Sense-impressions. Impressional description, 163 ff., 226. See Description. Impressions of reading. See Criti- cism. Improprieties, 380 ff . Incidents, order of, 129 f. See Sequence. Individuality in style, 327. Infinitive, split (or cleft), 390. Infinitives and clauses, 47, 50 f., and nouns, 47. Informal letter-writing, 79 f., 81. See Friendly letters. Ingelow, Jean, 137. Instances. See Examples. Interrelation of paragraphs in the essay, 66 f., 217, 264, 269, 372. Interrogative sentences, effective- ness of, 61. Introduction, functions of: presen- tation of outline in epitome, 26, 218 ; statement of antecedent or accessory facts, 131, 253 ; concilia- tion or preparation of audience, 250. Introductions in stories, 26, 131 ff. ; omitted, 132 f . ; in description. 191 ; action in, 191 ; in explana- tion, 218 f. ; in argument, 253 f. Exercises, 28, 137, 152, 237, 359. Inverted order, 59. Invitations and replies, 92 ff. Irving, Washington, 31, 180, 185. Issue in argument, 253 ff. Jewett, Miss S. O., 150. Johnson, Samuel, 242, 292, 296. Keats, John, 176, 407 f., 416 f. Key-sentence, 128, 215 ff., 225. Kingsley, Charles, 130. Kipling, Rudyard, 134, 148, 185, 190. Landscape. See Place. Language, development of, 277 f. ; standard of, 304 ff. ; literary, 305 ; colloquial, 310 ff. See English language. Words. Lanier, Sidney, 412. Law, principles of, as matters of argument, 248 f. Letter-writing, 77 ff . ; kinds and forms, 77 ff . ; specimens, 77 ff., 92 ff . ; parts of a letter, 80 ff . ; friendly letters, 85 ff . ; business letters, 88 ff. ; invitations and replies, 92 ff . ; business trans- actions, 95 ff., telegrams, 99 ff. ; announcements, 101 ff . ; circular letters, 101 ff . ; purposes of let- ters, 107 f . ; narration in, 25 ; description in, 172 f. ; argument and persuasion in, 251, 367 ff. Exercises, 85 ff., 90 ff., 95 ff., 100 ff., 102 f., 127, 367 ff. Light and shade, 166, 175 f. Lines of poetry. See Verses. Literary criticism. See Criticism. Literature and composition, xiii ; classification of, 108 f . ; purposes 426 THE MOTHEK TONGUE. of, 123 f . ; history, 123 ; drama, 132 f. ; dialogue or conversation, 138, 139 f . ; materials, 141 f. ; plot, 144 ff . ; narrative, 147 If. ; novels and romances, 147 ff. ; fables, 148; truth to nature, 148 ; character and manners, 149 ff. ; biography, 151 ; art and literature, 164 ff., 192, 197, 243; criticism, 241 ff. ; style, 290 ff., 299; language, 305; prose and poetry, 308; oratory, 324. See Opinion, Prose, Poetry, Reading, Selections. Liveliness in stories, 140; in de- scription, 169, 187, 191 ; in expla- nations, 224. See Expressiveness, Variety. Logical conclusion, 135. Longfellow, H. W., 26, 32, 128, 131, 137, 180, 185, 243, 407. Loose sentences, 296 ff. Lubbock, Sir John, 199, 203 ff., 216, 220 f., 223 f., 233. Exercises based on, 377. Macaulay, Lord, 123, 213, 264, 266 f., 269 ff., 280 f.,295, 350 ff. Manners, stories of, 149 f . Maps. See Diagrams. Marvel, Ik, 339. Masculine rhyme, 405. Material. See Selection, Arrange- ment. Material for stories, 141 f. Mechanical subject, explanation of, 207 ff. Exercises, 235 f., 239, 363, 365 f. Metaphor, distinguished from sim- ile, 332 ff . ; sustained, 334; com- bined with simile, 335; use and abuse of, 337 f. ; mixed, 337 f. Exercises, 333, 378 f. Metonymy, 335. Metre, 401 ff. Milton, John, 336, 406 f., 418. Mitchell, D. G. See Marvel. Mitford, Miss, 157, 161 f. Exercises based on, 195, 375. Mixed metaphors, 337 f. Modern usage, 305 f. Modifiers, 47 ff., 53 ff., 285 ff., 296, 301 f., 374; as aids to pre- cision, 321; position of, 57 ff., 345, 389. Monotony, 47, 282 ff . Moral conclusion, 135. Movement in description. See Action. Mystery. See Suspense. Narration, 8 ff.. Ill ff., 350 ff. Exercises, 23 f., 26 ff., 72 f., 76, 86, 127, 130, 132 f., 135, 137,140, 152 ff., 359 ff. See Stories. Narrative letters, order in, 25. Narratives and stories, types of, 111 ff., 122 f., 147 ff., 350 ff. ; dis- tinguished, 122 f . ; explanatory, 123, 135; historical, 123; travel and exploration, 123. See Narra- tion, Stories. Narrator, point of view, 136 f. Native and foreign words, 308 f. Nervous style, 338. Newman, 232, 282, 299 f., 355 f. Nominative absolute, 48. Notes, making, 73, 214 f., 227, 231. Notices. See Announcements. Nouns and infinitives, 47 ; and noun clauses, 47. Novels, 147 ff . ; plot of, 144 ff . Number, errors in, 384, 388 f. Observation of details, 141 f. Odor in descriptions, 166, 170. INDEX. 427 Omission of details, 21 ff . ; of in- troduction, 132 f. ; of unnecessary words, 338 f., 342 f. ; of necessary words, 339 f., 388. Onlyy place of, 389 f . Opinion, expression of, on topics from literature, 241 ff., 357 f. Oral composition, outlines and exercises for, 6 f., 26 f., 65, 73 ff., 127, 152 ff., 227 f., 229, 234 ff., 359, 361, 368 f. Oratorical style, 324 f. Order.