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ON

THE ORIGIN, HISTORY, AND PECULIARITIES OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE, PUNO-

FIG~U-~1'.I'fi~r.l;;,

TUATION, TASTE, THE PLEASURES OF TIIE IMISAGINATION,
AND ITS ESSENTIAL PROPERTIES, cnmc M, AND THE VAJil~ .8". '
.

DEPARTMENTS OF PROSE AND POETICAL
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ILLUSTRATED WITII COPIOUS EXERCISES.

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OF

COLLEGIATE SCHOOL," NEW YORK; AUTHOR
OF "FlRST LESSONS lN COMPOSITION,.,, ETC.

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NEW YORK:
D. AP PL E T 0 N A ND C 0 MP A N Y

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846 & 348 BROADWAY.

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Entered according to Act of Congress In tho yenr 1854,
Ily G. P. QUACKENBOS,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of th e United States for the Southern

District of New York.
TO

THE JtEV. DR. FERRIS,

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UN l\"EltS ITY

Ot' TIIE

CITY

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NEW

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AS A TRIDUTE OF PROFESSIONAL RESPECT
FOR BOUND SCUOLARSHIP AND U!"iWP.AUH~D LABORS IN TIIE OAUSE OF . E:OUOATlON,

ALSO DY TllE SAME AUTHOR,

NO L ESS 'THAN AS A MEMOIUAI..

FIRST LESSONS IN COMPOSITION,

OF

IN WHICH

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THE PilINCIPLES OF

THE

AUT

ARE

DEVELOPED

PRIVATE
IN

ESTEEM
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AND

FRIENDSHIP,

VOLUME

CONNECTION WITH THE PilINCil'LES OF

I

GRAM.MAR

BY

THE. AUTHOR.

\

1rnnnACING

FULL DIRECTIONS ON THE SUBJECT OF PUNCTUATION ;
WITH COPIOUS EXERCISES .

.....
'·

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PREF.A.CE.
Tu faTOr with which the public have kindly received the Au-

,·,, thor's "First Lessons in Composition", and the frequent calls made

]ly,

.

C~lleges and. higher Academies for a more advanced work
on the same plan, with. which to follow it, have led to the prepara' tion of the present volume. The elementary book to which reference has just been made, was intended to initiate the beginner by
easy steps into the art of composition; the work now offered to
~e public has a wider scope, embracing a variety of subjects worthy
!lf Or the attention of advanced pupils, and presenting much important
matter heretofore scattered through a number of different text. books. · Claiming to give a comprehensive and practical view of our
lAnguage in all its relations, this "Advanced Course " views it as a
whole, no less than with reference to the individual words composing
l~; shows how it compares with other tOngues, modern and ancient;
points out its beauties; indicates how they may best be made available ; and, in a word, · teaches the pupil the most philosophical
·1'_Jlethod ,o f digesting and arranging his thoughts, as well as the most
9.0rree(and effective mode of expressing them.
·... The volume commences with a condensed history of our tongue,
prefaced by a consideration of the origin of language in general,
~th spoken and written. Attention is first paid to the successive
~teps, by which, with Divine aid, man was enabled to develop a sysm of spoken language, to frame that elaborate and wonderful
bric without which civilization would be blotted from the globe.
he invention of letters and the various systems of writing form
e. next subjects in order. The primitive language of Britain is
, ~ ·,traced through successive modifications, produced by as
.1 ~litical changes, until at last the German invaders banished

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I'IlEFACE.

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it to wilds and fastnesses, and introduced the sturdy mother-tongue
of our own English. The history of the latter is then traced, from
the days of 1-Iengist and Horsa, through lines of Saxon kings, Scandinavian usurpers, and Norman conquerors; until, modified, enriched,
and improved, by the foreign clements with which it was brought
in contact, it became a new tongue, that was soon embodied by poets
in undying verse, and was destined to give birth to the nobl.e st and
most valuable literature of modern times.
The formation of the English language having been thus considered, its words are treated of, both with reference to their origin
and the parts they respectively perform in a sentence. The memory
of the pupil being then refreshed by a condensed review of the
leading topics of grammar, a chapter on false syntax, and an exhaustive view of the principles relating to the use of Capitals, the
too generally neglected subject of Punctuation is next taken up.
As this art, when' considered at all in educational text-books, is
treated orily in the most cursory manner, it was regarded as a
desideratum to present in this volume a complete and thorough
system, which should cover exceptions as well as rules, and provide
for every possible case, however rare or intricate. Such a system,
it is claimed, is here set forth.
Rhetoric proper constitutes the next division of the work. Hero,
by means of strict conciseness, space has been found to treat with
due attention and minuteness of every important subject connected
with the art. The student is led to consider successively Taste, its
elements, characteristics, and standard; the pleasures of the imagination; its sources,-the novel, the wonderful, the pictmesque, the
sublime, and the beautiful; sublimity and beauty of writing; wit,
humor, and ridicule; figures, their use and abuse; style, its varieties and essential properties ; and criticism. A thorough preliminary course on these important subjects was thought necessary
before r equiring the student to write original exercises.
Thus prepared, the pupil enters on the subject of prose composition. The process of Invention, which furnishes the thoughts to
be clothed in a dress of words, and which constitutes the most difficult if not the chief branch of the art, is first considered. The
young composer is shown how to analyze his subject, and to amplify the thoughts successively suggested into a well-connected
whole. The different parts of an exercise are taken up in turn ;
'Yarious forms and models of introductions are presented; descrip-

PREFA.CE.

7

tion, narration, argument, &c., are treated, and the peculiarities of
each pointed out, as well as the styles which they respectively require. The varieties of prose composition follow; and, with carefully selected models before him, the student is required to prepare
original compositions on the same plan,-such previous instruction
having been given, and such aids being presented, that the process
of composing, no longer a dull, routine, performance, becomes a
highly intelligent and improving mental diseipline. Thus made
acquainted successively with Letters, Narratives, Fiction, Essays,
Argumentative Discourses, and Orations, and furnished with subjects in each department and suggestions as to their proper treatment, the student is next led to the consideration of Poetry, its
feet, measures, rhymes, pauses, and different varieties.
The subject last referred to is not treated with the view of making poets. A claim to this high title must be founded on something
more than a mere ability to versify or rhyme correctly. But, while it .
is admitted that no rules can make a poet of one whom nature has
not constituted such, it is sincerely believed that a knowledge of the
principles here set forth will have a tendency to produce more correct. and better poetry, as it eertainly will enable the reader to
have a h.i gher appreciation of its merits. Not every one who goes
through a course of syntax can write good prose; yet this does
not alter the fact that a thorough acquaintance with syntax is essential to the good prose writer.
If it be asked, what constitute the distinguishing features and
advantages of the volume here presented to the public, the author
would reply: In the first place, clearness and simplicity. Though
the work was prepared for pupils of an advanced grade, and has
been written in a. style adapted to their comprehension, yet it was
· deemed of primary importance to set fort h every point perspicuously and intelligibly. Secondly, it embraces in small compass a
variety of important subjects, which have a common connection,
and mutually illustrate each other; but which the pupil has heretofore been obliged to leave unlearned, or to search for among a
number of different volumes. In the third place, it is eminently
practical. Exercises have been introduced throughout ~he work,
'wherever admissible, which will ensure tbat what has been learned
is properly understood, and impressed on the mind.
It remains for the au thor to acknowledge his obligation to the
various source,;, from wJ1ich he has received assistance in the prep:l.<:-

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l'ltEFACE.

ration of the present work. His object throughout having been to
produce a useful book, he did not feel at liberty to reject aught that
could be turned to practical use. Ile lrns, therefore, as far as was
consistent with his own plan, carefully gleaned whatever he has
found of value in the works of those who have preceded him. Particular reference is here made to the text-books which for years
lmve been regarded as standards on the subjects of which they respectively treat; to Blair's Lectures, Burke on the Sublime aml
Beautiful, Alison's Essay on Taste, and other books of a similar
stamp, from which ideas, and occasionally language, have been freely
drnwn. Nor have more modern English publications been overlooked. In a· word, it is believed that, while originality of plan and
execution have been strictly maintained, whatever may have been
elsewhere contributed to the elucidation of the subject, will not bo
wanting here: at the same time it has been the author's aim, in
drawing from others, to improve upon their language, to adapt
their style to the comprehension of all, and to avoid the errors of
fact, grammar, or rhetoric, into which they may have fallen.
The author is aware that an objection to the use of a text-book
on Composition exists in the minds of some, who prefer that their
pupils should prepare written exercises from given subjects without
aid or instruction of any kind. Of such he would respectfully ask
a careful consideration of the question whether something may not
be gained by pursuing a regular, consistent, plan. As, in the various departments of industry, much more can be accomplished, in a
limited time and with a given amount of labor, by those 'who work
according to a definite enlightened system, than by men of equal
energy, who, with an end alone in view, without regard to a choice
of means, go blindly to their task, directed by no higher principle
than chance; so, it is claimed, an equal advantage is gained by
those students of composition who pursue a well-digested plan, matured by experience, and elaborated by careful thought. Those
who have tried both courses must decide whether this position is
not as consonant with fact, as it certainly is with reason.
Repeating his thanks for the patronage extended to the little
volume which preceded this, the author can only express the hope
that the work now sent forth may meet with an equally kind
reception.
~v.w YonK, Sept. 11, 1854.

CONTENTS.

PART I.
IIISTORY OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.
PJ..GE
L•980N

I. Media of Communication, •
II. Origin of Spoken Language, t_.III. Written Langnnge,
IV. ,.A.lphabetlc Writing, ,,_..
v. Formation of Language,
VI. Origin of the English Language, ~
VII. Origin of the English Language ( continuecl), ';:.
VIII. Origin of the English Language (contimiecl), •
•
IX. Analysis of the English Language,
X. Characteristics of the Eng1!8h Language, •
XI. Parts of Speech,

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61
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XII. Sentences, •
XIIL Capital Letters,
XIV. Exercise on Capitals, •

19

PART II.
PUNCTUATION.

XV. Principles of the Art,
XVI. The Period,
XVII. The Jnterrogatlon-polnt.-The Exclamation-point.,
XVIII. The Uolon, •
, XIX. The Semicolon,

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91
91
lQD

=·-------------..-.. . . .-.-10

CONTEN'l'B,

Tl

CONTENTS.

LESSON
l'AGZ'

XX. Tho Comma,
XXI. The Comma (continued),
XXII. The Comma (1Jontimeed), •
XXIIL
XXIV.
XXV.
XX VL

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136
141
147

XXVIII. Apostropbe.-Hyphcn.-Quotatlon-points,

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XXX. Other Marks used In Writing and Printing,
XXXI. Grammnticnl Inaccuracies,

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LXIV. Unity;

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XXXIV. Taste.-Its Universality and Cultivation,
XXXV. Elements and Clrnractcrist!cs of Taste, •
XXXVI. Standard of Taste,

I

XXXVII. Pleasures of the Imagination,

818

PART IV .

169

•

Grncefulnes~.-Tho Bcnutlful In the Human Countenance, in Sound,

•

183

; XLVU. Figures of Orthography, Etymology, and Syntax,
XL VIII. Figurative Language, .
XLIX. Exercises on Figurative Language,
L. Figures of Rhetoric,
LI. Exercise on Figures,
Lii. Rules for the Use of Rhetorical Figures,
LIII. Exercise on Figures,
LIV. Style nncl Its Varieties,

201
206
211

214

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231

825
829
834
837

' : · LX.XI. Exercise in Ampli!Ication,
, . LXXII. Exercise on Plain and Figurative Language,

·337

• LXXIII. Exercise In Extended Simile,
a LXXrv: Exercise In Extended Simile,

388

"': ~ LXXV. Exercl~e In Metaphorical Language,
' '.'~ . LXXVI. Exercise In Allegory,
·
' : LXXVII. Exercise In Hyperbole, •
LXXVlll. Exercises in Vision and Apostrophe,
LXXIX. Exercise In P ersonification , .
L XXX. Exercises In Cllmc..x and Antithesis,

221

•.

· LXX. Exercise In Ampli!Ication,

179

194

XLI. The Sublime In Writing (continued),
XLII. The Subllmo in Writing (conti-lwed),
XL!II. Tho Beautiful, .

XLVI. Humor and Ridicule,

LXIX. Revision and Correction of Compositions,

173

•

and In Writing,
XLV. Wit,.

LXViI. Inventiou.-Analysis of Subjects,
•._.• LXVIII. Am plification, · .

163

XL. The Sublime In Writing,

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809

PROSE ' ooMPOSITION.

XXXVIII. Sources of the Pleasures of tho Imnginntion.-The Novel.-The Wonderfnl.-The Picturesque,
l SS
XXXIX. The Sublime, .

XLIV.

·.

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LXVI. Criticism,

RHETORIC.

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XXXUI. Province and Objects of Rhetoric,

I

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299

LXIII. Exercise on Hacmony,

PART III.

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291

LX. Exercise on Clenrne:is,
LXI. Strength,
LXII. !Iarmony,

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LVIII. Precision, .
LIX. Clenrness, or Perspicuity,

LXV. The Forming of Style, ·

155

XXXII. Exercise in False Syntnx, .

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270
277

LVII. Exercise on Purity and Propriety,

113
123

XXVII. Parentheses.-Brackets,
I

·" LV. Eirercise on the Va1ieties of Style,
LVI. Essential Properties of Stylc.-Purlty.-Proprlety,

103
113

The Comma (continued),
The Comma (continued), •
The Comma (continued),
The D ash, •

PA.GB

I.USON

104

LXXXI. .Parallels,
LXXXII. Exercise In Parallels,
LXXXIII .. Exercise In Parallels,

887
888
888
889
840
841
841
842
842
848
844

844

289

LXXXIV. Exercise In Definin g Synonymes,
LXXXV. Exercise In Defining Synonymes,

245

LXXXVI. Exercise In Paraphrasing,

844

246

L XXXVII. Exercise In Paraphrasing,

846
846

235

253

254
260
2611

LXXXVIII.
· LXXXIX.
XC.
XCI.

Exercise In Abridging,
Exercise in Abridging,
Exercise in Abridging,
Exercise In Criticism,

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847
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CONTENTS.

LE~SO?f

,

:XCII. Exercise in Criticism,

.

XCIII. Description of Material Objects,

,

84T

.

XCIV. Description of Natural Scenery, and P ersons,

84'l

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XCV. N arration.-Argument.-·Exposition.-Speculntion,
XCVI. Letters,

XCVII. Letters (continued),
XCVIII. Narratives,

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SOT

XCIX. Exercise In Biography,
C. Fiction,
CI. E ssays,

OF

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8T4

CU. Exercises in Essay-Writing,

COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC.

879

•

385

CIII. Theses, or Argumentative Discourses
CIV. Oratlons.-Sermon-Writing,
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892

PART I.
PART V.
POETIOAL

HISTORY OE' THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

OOMPOSITION,

CV. Verse.-Quantity.-Feet.-Metres,

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400

CVI. Stanzas.-Sonnets.-Iieroic Verse.-Blank Verse,
CVII. Rhymes.-Pauses,

413

CVIII. Varieties of Poetry,
Specimen Proof-Sheet,

418

,

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Lfat of Subjects, •
'
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Index,

424
426
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435
441

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LESSON I.
MEDIA OF COMMUNICATION.

§ 1. MAN is distinguished from the brute creation by the
possession of reason. Brutes are governed by instinct ; man,
by his reasoning faculties. The senses of both are the same,
an.d on these senses material objects produce similar impressions. But from these impre!sions brutes cannot reason any
further than their natural instincts enable them, and their necessities require. Man, on the other hand, being possessed of
intellectual faculties, is capable of drawing inferences; and
thus from the impressions made on his senses by a single external obj ect, receives many different ideas, which, producing
, others in their turn, may be multiplied to infinity.
§ 1. How ls man distinguished from th e brute creation? By what· are brntes
governed? By wh at, man? How do the senses of m en and brutes, and the Impressions produced upon them, differ? How, t!Jen, do men receive more ideas from these
impressions th an brutes?

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llIEDIA OF COMJ\IUNICA TION.
MEDIA OF COMMUNICATION.

§ 2. Men, being endowed with social dispositions natural-

ly desire to interchange the id eas received in th~ manner
a~ove de~cribed. Br~1tes, also, particularly those of gregarious habits, are nt tun es actuated by a similar impulse to
make known their feelings to each other. Now in b~th these
cases some ~edim~ of communication is necessary; and we
find that the mgenmty of man has devised four means more or
less adapted to the purpose, the first two of which the instinct
of the lower orders of creation has led th em ~lso to employ.
These are as follows :-

:tr This fact was known and appreciated by the ancient Greeks
and Romans whose action was much more vehement than we
' are accustoru'ed to see at the present day. On the stage this
was carried so far that two actors were at times brought on to
play the same part; the office of one being to pron?unce the
words, and that of the othe1• to accompany them with appropri.ate gestures, a single performer being. unable to .attend to
both. Cicero informs us that it was a matter of disput~ between the actor Roscius and himself whether the former could
· express a sentiment in a greater variety of ways by significant
gestures, or the latter by .the use of diff~rent phr~ses. He
also elsewhere tells us that this same Roscius had gamed grea~
love from every one by th~ mere movements of his person.•
. During the reign . of Augustus both tragedies and comedies
were acted by pantomime alone. It was perfectly unde.rsto~d
by the . people, who wept, and laughed, and were excited m
every way as much as if words had been employed. It seems,
indeed to have worked upon their sympathies more powerfully tha~ words; for it became necesflary, at a subseque_n t period,
to enact a law restraining members of the senate from study·
ing the art of pantomime, a practice to which it ~eems_ they
had _resorted in on;l er to give more effect to their speeches
' before that body.
·When however the Roman Empire yielded to the arms
.
'
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of the Northern barbarians, and, as a consequence, great
nu~bers of the latter spread over it in every direction, their
cold and phlegmatic manners wrought a material change as re-

I. Gestures. By these are meant the movements of the
body or it~ members. In the case of brutes, they are often
s? expressive as to leave no doubt as to th e predominant emot10n: Thus, in the billing of doves we see love exemplified ·
in tho lion lashin? his sides with his tail, and the cat raisin~
her back at the sight of an enemy, we have unmistakable evidences of anger; and in the horse depressing his ears backwards, of fe ar. Man, having generally other and better means
of communication, seldom uses gestures alone, though he often
e.mploys them to illustrate and enforce what he says. 'Vhen
other means, 110wever, are wanting, he is . able with their aid
alone to express his sentiments; as in the case of the sick who
h~ve lost th~ power of speech, or of one attempting to make
him.self understood by those with whose language he is unacquamted . . It i~ surprising, indeed, to see l1ow perfectly P.ersons practised m the use of glstures can communicate even
complicated trains of thought and long series of facts. Good
?anto.m_imists will make the plot of a theatrical piece just as
mtclhg1ble to an audience as if it were developed by dialogue.

• "Ergo ille corporis motu tantum amorem sibi · conciliilrat a nobis
omnibus."-PRo .ARcmA PoETA, VIII.

§ 2. What desire r esul ts from man's social disposition? I s this desire confined to
th e hum an race? How many means of communication has man devised? H ow many
and which are employed by bru tes also ?
·
What is the first med ium of com munication ? What is meant by gestures .? Give
in stances of th e nse of gestures by brutes, an d mention the emotions they indicate.
For wh~t purpose does man generally use gestures? Do they ever sen •o alone to exp~ess his sentiments? Give instances. What may be com muni caterl by gestures?
Give an. Instance. ·what is rnid of tbe action of t he Gre~ks nnd J~omnns? How
far wu' it c:irrlcd on the stngo ? What point wns debated by Cicero nnd Roscins f
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What does Cicero tell us with respect to this actor? In the reign of Augustus, how
were both tragedies and comedies r~-prese nte d ? How did som e of the senators seek t.o
give effect to their speeches? Wh '1t 1.. w was passed on the subject? What effect did
the conquest of tho Roman Empire by Northern bnrbarians have O? the gestures and
tones of .the peoplo? How do th e t ones of the people of Southern Europe now com" pare with those of the North ? Of what nations, In particular, is this true?

16

MEDIA 01? COMMUNICATION.
ORIGIN OF SPOKEN LANOUAOE.

I

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gards the gestures, no less than tlrn tones and accents of the
' subpeople. The mode of expression gradually grew more
dued, and the accompanying action less violent, in proportion
as the new influences prevailed. Conversation became more
languid; and public speaking was no longer indebted for its
~ffect to the art of the pantomimist. So great was the change
rn these respects that the allusions of classical authors to tlic
orato;y of their day were hardly intelligible. N otwithstanding these modifications, however, the people of· Southern Europe, being warmer and more passionate by nature, arc, at
the present day, much more animated in their ton es and more
addicted to gesticulation than the inhabitants of the North.
This is particularly true of the French and Italians.
II. Inarticulate Sounds, or cries used by man, particularly during infancy, and by all other animals, to express
strong and sudden emotions, such as fear, love, sorrow,
and the like. In the earlier periods of man's history,
before a perfect system of language was developed, it is
probable that these natural interjections were used more
frequently than at present. Grammarians consider them
the earliest elements of speech. Among these inarticulate
sounds may be classed sighing, groaning, laughing, and
screaming, each of which is a key to the prevailing sentiment of the mind.
III. Spoken Language, or an af'!semblage of articulate
sounds, which are individually the type of certain ideas, and
by a combination of which thoughts may be expressed. This .
means of communication, as well as that which follows is
' I
employed by man alone.
IV. Written Language. By this is meant a combination
of arbitrary characters, which convey to the, mind the ideas
they represent through the medium of the eye.
What is th e second m edium of communicntion? What ls meant by Inarticulate
Sounds? Wh en were th~y most frequently u sed? How do grammarians regard
them? What may be classed among th ese Inarticulate Bounds?
What is tho third medium of communication? What ls Spoken Langunge? By
whom ls it employed?

17

, · It will be seen that, as the ideas generated by man's reflective faculties infinitely outnumber the emotions of brutes, so
his means of communication are at once more numerous and
precise. ,
· Gestures and inarticulate sounds our subject does not
lead us to consider any further; of language, spoken and
written, we shall now proceed to treat.

LESSON

II.

ORIGIN OF SPOKEN LANGUAGE.

§ 3. IT is a question tbat has been much and ably _discussed, whether spoken language is a divine or human institu·
tion : whether God gave it to man, as He gave the mental
faculties ; or man invented it for himself, stimulated by the
desire of communicating with his kind.
Those who think language is a human institution believe,
with the ancient philosophers and poets, that men were originally "a dumb and low herd"; * that they were in all things
rude and savage, totally ignorant of the arts, unable to communicate with each other except in the imperfect manner of
beasts, and sensible of nothing save hunger, pain, and similar
emotions. Cicero, alluding to the human race in primeval ages,
says : " There was a time when men wandered every where
through the fields after the manner of beasts, and supported
life by eating the food of beasts.'' Diodorus, Lucretius,
* "Mutum et turpe pecus."
What Is the fourth . medium of communication? What ls meant by Written
Language?
How do man's ideas and means of communication compare with those .of brutes?

§ 8. What question bas b een much discussed? What did the ancient philosophers

and poets regard ns the original stnte of men? What does Cicero say of tho human
~ · race in primeval times?

What ancient writors agree with lilm In this opinion?

What

-18

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OitIGIN OF SPOKEN LANGUAGE.

ORIGIN OF SPOKEN LANGUAGE.

Horace, Pliny, Juvenal, and other ancient writers, agree with
Cicero in this opinion, and hold that it was only after a long
and gradual improvemen t that men came to their present en·
lightened state.
Lord Monboddo, who, in his work on " The Origin and
Progress of Language," labors to prove that man is but a
high er spec ies of monkey, thinks that originally the human
race had only a few monoRyllables, such as HA, 1rn, m, uo, by
which, like beasts, they expressed certain emotions . .
Dr. l\Iurray gives it as his opinion that all language originated in nine monosyllables, Ao, BA G , DWAG, G WA G, LAG, MAG,
NAG, RA G, SWAG.
"Each of these," says Dr. l\'I., "is a verb,
and indicates a species of action. Power, motion, force, ideas
united in every untutored mind, are implied in them all. 'l'hey
were uttered at first, and probably for several gene ration s, in
an insulated manner. 'l'he circumstances of the action were
communicated by gestures and the variable tones of the voice;
but the actions themselves were expressed by their suitable
monosyllables."
Rousseau represents men as originally without language,
as unsocial by nature, and totally ignorant of the ties of
society. He does not, however, seek to explain how language
aro se, being dish eartened at the outset by the difficulty of deciding wheth er language was more necessary for the insti tution of society, or society for th e invent ion of language. l\Iaup~rtius, how ever, overcomes this difficulty by holding that
" language was formed by a session of learned societies assembled for tl1 at pu~pose."
§ 4. But we mu st leave these absurd theories. Language
is, beyond doubt, a divine institution, invented by the Deity
and by Him made known to the human race. If language was
is th e litlo of Lorcl Jlfonborld• >'s work? Wh at rloes the nnl.hor try to pron1 in il?

lfo w

docs he. think t hat th e humnn r ace origin al ly ex pr es~c <I their e111otio11s ? Jn wlint dn ~~s
Dr. :Murrny tltinl'" that nll l n.ng ungc originated ? ' V lrnt part tif ~ p nce h, nccl1r<li11g to him ,
was each of th (\SC mon osy llaUl es? \Vhat i1lea s <l oc~ li o t hi nk wt·r c i111plh_. cl in tl11 ~ 111 ?

1
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How docs 1~011s0<'rtn rc prc~o nt th e originlll ractl of' mr n ? \Vhnt tliniculty tllsht'rtrtenccl
him nt L11 c outset of his enqnirlrs? Whnt docs Mnnpcrtlus hold P

19

devised by man, the invention could not have been at once
matured, but must have been the result of the necessities and
experience of successive generations. This, however, does not
accord with the facts of history; for, however far we go back,
we canno~ arrive at a~y period when even the most unenlightene~ port10.ns of mankmd did not possess a system of. language.
Scnpture mforms us that this means of communication was
employed by the first man and woman, as well as their immediate descendants; and we are hence forced to the conclusion
that it was the resul~ of a direct revelation from on high.
N ~v~rtheless, while the elements were thus imparted, by
God, it is natural to suppose that much was left for man to
perfect; and that, just as a mind was given to him which he
is ~equired to cultivate and fit for the performance of its
dutrns by a long course of training, so the mere elements were
imparted, out of which he had to form by successive_ improvements a perfect means of communication. ((Three things"
.
(( h ave contributed to enable man to perfect lan'
says S ca11ger,
g_uage,-necessity, practice, and the desire to please. N ecessity p.roduced a collec tion of words very imperfectly connected·
pr~ct1~e, . in multipl~ing them, gave them more expression;
while it is to the desire of pleasing that we owe those agree. able turns, those happy collocations of words, which impart to
phrases both elegance and grace."
. We are confirmed in this supposition by the fact that the
hi~tory of many languages shows a gradual progress from im.perfect ~eginnings to a finished state, and that there is hardl
a~y cultivated tongue, which, if traced back to its earlier :we;
~ill.not be found either defec tive in some of it~ parts or w~nt~
mg m t~ose characteristics which are a source of beauty and
§ 4. Leaving theso theories, by wh om must we conclude that language w~ Invented
If It was devise~ by mnn, whnt woul<I we find on looking bnck at the hlstor of earl

t:

the ft~
times P 1Vns tins th e cas~?. Whnt_ does Scripture in form us with regnrd
man and woman and th eir 1mrn ed111te descendants• Wh t r II
f
I·
·
·
a w ows root this? Was
any t. nng left fur man to prrfect? Acc'lrding- to ScaligP.r, by wh at was man enabled to
perfect lan~uagd? What <l'.d necessity produce? What did practice Im art to them
What clo " o O\\ o to tho desire of pleasl11g?
p

JS[ _

20

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f>

WRIT'.r E N LANGUAGE.

strength. The language of a nation, traced through the successive eras of its existence, will be found to have und ergone
a series of improvements in all respects analogouR to the advances which have been made in the institutions and social
condition of the people who speak it. In the fir st great antediluvian language similar changes must have occurred.
It may be added that the divine origin of language is
maintained by a number of our best writers. Locke, in his
" Essay on the Human Understanding," Book III, chap. 1,
sec. 1, says: "God, having designed man for a sociable crea·
ture, made him not only with an inclination and under a necessity to have fellowship with those of his own kind; but
furnished him, also, with language, which was to be the great
instrument and common tie of society."

LESSON III.

1!
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WRITTEN

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LANGUAGE.

§ 5. IDEAS may be communicated by written, as well as
spoken, language. The latter represents ideas by articulate
sounds; the former employs certain arbitrary characters to
represent these articulate sounds, and thus through a double
medium conveys the ideas themselves. It is written language
alone that gives permanence to thoughts.
§ 6. Written language was devised by man. The exact
period of its origin is unknown; but it is supposed not to
have been invented until several centuries after men "<Vere m
What fact confirms us In the belief that in language much was left for man to perfect? Wh at Is Locke's view of the origin of language?
§ 5. Wh nt else besides spoken language enables us to communicate iuens ? H ow
11ocs spoken lnn gango represent !<leas? How, written lang unge? 'Vli lch gives permanence to thoughts?
§ 6. By whom was written language devised? When is it snpposccl to lrnYo been

WRl'.r'.rEN LANGUAGE.

21

possession of a complete system of spoken language. Tho systems first employed were necessarily rude and imperfect; but,
. o.s men increased in experience and knowledge, successive im. provements were made, until at last the present simple method
was devis_!ld. Four systems Lave been employed in different
ages and countries; the Ideographic, tho Verbal, tho Syllabic,
and the Alphabetic.
§ 7. Ideographic Systeni.-The earliest method of conveying thoughts by means of written characters is called Ideographic. It represented material objects and facts by means of
pictures; and what was not material or visible, but was merely
conceived in the mind, and could not therefore be thus de.
'
'
picted, by symbols. Thus the idea of a battle was conveyed
by a pictorial representation of two men engaged in fighting·1
. while the abstract idea of eternity was denoted by a circle ,
which, being without beginning or end, was an appropriate
emblem. It represented things themselves, and not their
names.
The hieroglyphics * of Egypt constituted one kind of
Ideographic writing. The Mexicans, also, used it at tho time
of Cortes' invasion ; their king was informed of the arrival of
the Spaniards and their ships, by pieces of white linen ori which were painted objects resembling vessels, and men in
Spanish garb. Ideographic writing is also said to have been
employed by some of the North American Indians.
§ 8. Verbal Sysiem.-The Verbal system is second in point
of antiquity. It appropriated a peculiar character to each
"' This word signifies " sacred carvings,"· b~ing derived from the
Greek words 1Epor, sacred, and 7i1.6cpw, to carve.
invented? What was Its character at first? Wh at change took place· as men Increased
1n knowledge? How many systems have prevailed?
§ 7. What is the earli est system called? How did it represent material objects?
. How, wbat was not material or visible? Give an example. Did It represent the objects
thomsclvcs; or their names? To what system do th e hieroglyphics of Egypt belong ?
What other people used this system? H ow was th o Mexican king Informed of t!Je
Bpanlnrd.s ' arrival? By what other rnco has IUeogrnphic writing been employed?
S 8. What is tho sccon u system called? llow did it represent material objects and

1. --

22

Wlll'l".rEN LANGUAGE.

object and idea, without r eferen ce t o th e word by which such
object or idea w.as r epresented. This was an improvemen t on
the Ideographi c system , but was obj ectionable on account of
the great numb er of characters required. Chinese, at the
present day, is written in a measure according to this system.
Old authorities inform us that it employJ'nO' less than 80,000
characters; later r esearch es, however, prove the number to be
co nsiderably smaller. As each character represents an object
or abstract idea, and not merely a sound, it follows that any
thin<r
written according to thi s system is understood by. all
b
that are acquaiuted with the charact ers, although th eir own
spok en lang uages may be totally different ; just as the value
of fi gures in their various combinations is universally known
to the nations of Europe, notwithstanding the difference in
th~ir r espective ton gues. The written lang uage of th e Chinese
Empire, accordingly, is r ead and understood by the people of
J apan, Corea, Loo -choo, and Cochin China, as well as by
various other tribe s who are unable to hold the slightest oral
intercourse with each other.

l..

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It is proper to add that this is denied by some, who contend that
Chinese is wri tten mainly according to the Syllabic system, a description
• of which follows. If any Japane5e or Cor eans are found to und erstand
written Chinese, it is, according to these authorities, from th ei r h aYing
studied it, or else on account of its resemblance to th eir own writtcrt
systems. Our present g reatly increased facilit,ies for obtaining information respecting the people of the Celestial Empire nud their peculiarities, will soon dissipate all uncer tainty on this subj ect; and we shall
probably find that each opinion h as some foundation in t ruth. If, is
likely eith er that the characters are partly Verb al and partly Syllabic,
or else that there are tw.o distinct systems, originally p erhaps used by
different classes, but now employed indiscriminat ely at the option of th e
writer.
abstrnct ideas? What ren~lered It objectionable? In what language is it ~till employ eel? H ow mnny clrnrnctera nre require<! in t his lnngunge? Need one nnd ersta ntl
t he spoken Jangnagc, in order to understan d a written langnngo · In whi ch th e Verbnl
~ystem is cmployet!?
Give an example. In illustration of tlii~, "·hat is mentionccl
with regard to th e written language of the Chin ese E mpire? What account do other
authorities give of written Chinese? Row do they explain the fact that some Japanese
and Oorenns are found to understand It? What Is probable with regnrd to theso cllfforeut opinions?

-

WRITTEN LANGUAGE.

' :-r § 9.

23

Syllabic Systern.-By the two systems above de;

scribed, things themselves were r epresented without reference
to the sounds by which they are denoted. But th e frequ ent
recurrence of the same syllables in the names of things soon
led ~en to see the a~vantages th at would be gained by rcpresentrng tile sound instead of the thing signified · and hence
originated a_tJ1ird ~ethod, commonly called the Syllabic system. In this, certam characters were employed to represent
.not objects, but syllabic sounds, by a combina tion of which th~
names of things were denoted. Thus the word agriculture
would be expressed by fou~· characters only, one representing
each syllable. Though this was a great improvement on the
Verbal System, it was also objectionable on account of the
number of characters r equired. It is thought at one time to
have been used by many Asiatic nations · and is still the
basis, though in a somewhat modified form, ~f the written language of the Ethjopians and that of the Siamese.

§ 10. 1lphabetic System.-The defects incident to the ~ys·
~ems descnbed above finally taught man the necessity of inventmg some new method of conveying his thoughts; and hen~e re-

su~t:d the i.ntr~duction. and ultimate perfection of Alphabetic
wntrng, which IS used m almost all languages at the present '
d.ay. . This may be ~egarded as the greatest of human ~~~~~,
• t10ns, and h~s. :ont:1buted mor~ than a~y thing else t ;.: b:~t; ,
progress of C1V1hzat10n. .Accordmg to this system, the si', '·pte~. 1 •
·sounds of the human vowe are r epresented by appropliate .
marks ~r letters, by .combining wh.i~h syllables and wordsll(u\ej.
formed , and that with. such .prec1s1on and completeness ~ahl
n?t. only can all matenal obJects be denoted and descrihk d/ ' ' '
·!

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':""

§ 9. H ow were ideas represented by the two systems nlrendy described? ~hnt
eystem was nex t Inven ted ? According to the Sy ll nbic system, what did each elm. ctec
. represent? How were words den oted? How m any characters would this ayste re-·
• qalre to express the word aqricuztm·e f H ow did tho Syllabic compare witj!i i1..~ ,·
Verbal system? What rendered the Syllabic system objection able? By what rhtlons
It at one time employed? In what written languages ls It still used?
.
·
, S10. By the defects of th ese systems, what wns man finally taught? What system
;. w.111 next Invented? How may ~t be regarded? Whnt are represented by the ,charac-

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ALPHABETIC WRITING. -

ALPHABETIC WRITING.

24
variety of thought.

-------·•-+-----LESSON IV.
ALPHABETIC WRITlNG.

§ 11. Derivation.-The ~ord alphabet is der.ive~ from

R~
the first two Greek characters,
and s1gmfics the
•
•
letters of a written language disposed lll thell" regular order.
. § 12. Origin.-The inventors of alphabet~c ;vriting. ~re
unknown. According to the Jewish Rabbis, it is of d1vmc
·
"God"
on.· gm.
, says one of their number, " created letters
.
on the evening of the first Sabbath." Adam Clarke. also mclines to this opinion, although he places th~ revelation at a
1 ter date maintaining that God taught Moses the use of lctt:rs by w;iting the Ten Commandments with His own fing.er
on the tables of stone. Eusebius, Clemens . of. Al:xand1:ia,
Cornelius Agrippa, and others, attribute this noble mvent1on
to Moses himself; Philo, to Abraham ; Ireni::eus and others,
to Enoch, who is by some thought to have been the autl~or ~f
·a work still extant, to which there is an ap~arent al~us~on m
th e 14th and the 15th verse of St. Jude's Ep1st~e. B:bhander
considers Adam entitled to the honor of the mvent10n i and
the ·Sabians actually produce a book which they pretend was
written by this patriarch. If, however,. letters were k~own .at
this early period, it can hardly be explamed why men, m spite
of the vastly superior facilities they afford, should have gone
back to the ideographic or the syllabic system.
" ' ,1-.

afl.'t'a, 1-1YJra,

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'· * "Ipsa gens Phcenicum in gloria magna est literarum inventionis."
' ' The race of Phoonicians themselves enjoy the great glory of the invention ofletters.'-PLINY, Book v., chap. 12.
"Phcenices primi (famro si credimus) ausi
Mansuram rudibus vocem signare figuris.''- LucAN.
0

•this system? By whom does Bibliander think it was invented? What evidence of

t (·rs "em ployed in the Alphabetic system? Dy combining these characters, what are

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f•' •m ed?
. . .
~ ·11 . From what Is the word trlphabet derived? What does it s1gn1fy?
· § 12. What is said of the inventors of alphabetic wl'iting? T o whom do the J ew
ish .lcabbis attribute its invention? What is Adam Clarke's opinion? 'fo whom do
·
attn'b u t e ''t? T ow Iiom, l'I 1ilo ?· .To whom
. ti'
E uscui ns, Clenrnns, and Cornelius Agrippa
[rcn:T>11s? ·what r eason is th ere for supposing Enoch to havo hecn ncqunmtetl "I 1

25

· ·1 Among the Greeks and Romans, the . invention of letters
. was generally attributed to the Phcenicians."" For the Greeks
this was natural, as they received the greater part of their
alphabet directly from Cadmus, a native of Phcenicia, and
would therefore be likely to think that the honor of the invention belonged to that country. · Yet it is clear that some of
the most learned of the Greeks regarded Cadmus in his true
light; not as the inventor, but merely as the introducer, of letters. Plato. expressly says that Thaut, the Egyptian, was the
first to divide letters into vowels and consonants, mutes and
liquids. An individual of this same name, Thaut or Taaut, is
also mentioned by Sanchoniathon, the historian, as the inventor of letters, but is claimed by him as a Phcenician, living in
the 12th or the 13th generation after the Deluge. To reconcile
these conflicting accouuts, Jackson, in his " Chronological An:
tiquities," holds that letters were invented by Taaut or Thoth,
the Phcenician, a son of Misraim, about five centuries after
the deluge, but were introduced into Egypt four hundred years
afterwards by a second Taaut; whom he supposes to have been
identical with the celebrated Hermes Trismegistus of the
. ·Greeks, the inventor, according to Diodorus, of grammar,
·niusic, letters, and writing. W.hethcr this supposition is cor·rect or not, we may fairly conclude that, whichever of these
nations first employed letters, they were not long in· becoming

but also abstract ideas, the emotions of the mind, and every

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th ls Is furnished by the Sabians? What objection is there to the supposition that let,
2ters were known thus early?
., • To whom dicl th e Greeks and Romans attribute the invention of letters? What led
the Greeks to this opinion? How did some of the most. learned Greeks r egard Cad~
mus? Whom dnes Plato mention In connection with the classification of letters? Who
'·· eille alludes to this Thaut? Wh at does Sanchonlathon say of him? How does Jackson
• explnl!l this inconsistency? With what Greek personage does htl suppose this second

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AhPHABE'fIC WlUTlNG.

known to the other i as the commercial relations of the Egy~­
tians and Phoonicians were intimate and likely to make their
respective inventions common property.
.
.
,
According to some late writers who are versed m Onen.tal
literature the claims of the Indians to the honor of havi~g
devised l~tters are not without some weight. The Sanscnt;
which is the most refined of the Indian languages, is supposed
to have been one of the most ancient now existing, and is the
parent of almost every dialect o~ South.em Asia. The Hindoos assert that they were acquamted with letters before any
other nation on the globe ; and that, in their ancient books,
sages from Egypt and other countries arc r~presented a~ co~­
ing to India, to inform themsel~es respec~mg alphabetic wri· '
ting and other inventions for which the .Hmdoos were at that
early period distinguished. As, however, ~one of these an·
cicnt books have yet made their appearance m Europe, and as
national vanity has led the · Orientals generally ~o exaggerate .
their ancient standing in literature, art, and sc~cnce, we ca~ .
hardly weigh these unsupported statements agamst the positive testimony presented from other quarters.
Modern · scholars seem to be divided in op1mon as to
whether this great invention is due to the Phoonicians or the
Hebrews. Mr. Astle, whose essay on " The Origin and Progress of Writing" displays great research, and is ~ustly regarded as high authority, on the evidence of the ancients, pro·
nounces in favor o_f the Phoonicians. It must be remembered,
however that whil~ the Greeks were well acquainted with the
latter n~tion on account of their intimate commercial relations, ·
to the Hebrews they were almost entire strangers ; and

27

; '-• .,hence, though their evidence may be reliable as regards the
claims of the Phoonician alphabet to an antiqul.ty greater than
~ either the Egyptian or the Syrian can boast, they must still
have t\been unqualified to pronounce between it and the HeJu-ew. From the latter, indeed, the Phoonician alphabet is
'!\OW "generally thought to have been derived. It is at least well
·known that writing was practised amo~g the Jews long before
,,w ( have any evidence of its having been in use among the
Phoonicians. The Pentateuch itself is a living proof that alphabetic writing was known to Moses, while the frequent allusions; to that art which it contains shows that this knowledge
, was not confined to the legislator alone.* The injunction con: ~~n~d in the 9th verse of the 6th chapter of Deuteronomy,
. !h_at .the people should write the words of the law on the posts
of ·their houses and on their gates, proves such a general ac·. quaintance with the art as to justify the inference that it was
th.e~"·no recent invention, but had been known and used for
year~. " The suggestion urged by some that the writing here
alluded to, as well as that in which the five books of Moses
•yt•\
••
wer~ - ongmally composed, may have been according to the
~~r~glyphic or syllabic system, is inadmissible; for we have
1
the slightest trace of th~ existence of these sacred books
· ...r · · 1
)ii any ,other form than that which they now bear.
,f}!-or' ~r~- ~e · b{ any _means driven · to the inference which
IO!Jle have drawn from the passage, that the Deity himself
fl •ld fl•
,. I
·
,
co~m~1;1!c~t~~ to· M?ses, and ~hrough him to the human race,
· ·a khow,le,dge of the alphabet10 system. Had so important a
re~!''ti~ii'])een made, we have every reason to suppose that
. ,. t .•·•
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-. ot

~T

ti

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•

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Tanut to have been Identical? What ls said of the relations that subsiste<l between the ,
·Egyptians and the Phronlcians?
t
What other people claim to have Invented letters? Wh~t is ~aicl of t~e Sanscrl .
language? What do the Hlndoos assert with rcgarrl to their ancient books? Have
we any reason to believe their statements?
What are the views of modern scholars Oil this point ? In whose favor does Mr.
Aetle decide? What reason ls there for supposing that the Greeks may have been mis·
taken in attribt~ting tho !nv011tlon of Jotters to the Phren!c!ans? From what alphabet

-'

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FORMATION OF LANGUAGE.

it would have been recorded in distinct terms by the Jewish
legislator.
§ 13. The Greek Alphabet and its D erivatives.-What·
ever alphabet may have been the most ancient, one fact is
clearly established ; that Cadmus introduced sixteen letters
from Phronicia into Greece, to which Palamedes subsequently
added four, and Simonides, at a still later period, four more.

pound s?un~s which could ot.herwise be . perfectly represented
by combmat1ons. In other languages some sounds are entirely
unrepresw:i~ed, and consequently in these _there is a deficiency
of a.lphabetw characters. Hence, though about the same number of elemental soundti are in use among different nations
there will be found no little difference in the number of
letters composing their various alphabets.

The Phcenician language was written from right to left. The Greek
1tt first followed it in this respect; but was in course of time written
l'!'om right to left, and from left to right, alternately, as land is ploughed.
l'he Laws of Solon were engraved in this style, about 600 B. C., as also
were many inscriptions still to be seen on ancient monuments. Soon
tftcr this period, however, the present manner of writing, from left to
"ight, came into general use. It had been introduced many years b efore by Pronapides, who, according to some, w as a teacl1 er of H omer's .
From the Greek alphabet, the Etruscan, Oscan, Latin, Coptic, and
.\lthers, were formed. '11ie Latin alphabet contained twenty-five letters.
llrom it, ours is derived. The number and form of th e Latin letters are
fetaiued in English without any furth er change than the aclclition
of w:

Thus, the English alphabet contains 26 letters· the French 23 · the
20; the Spanish, 27; the Russian, 41; th: Hebrew, S~ma:itan,
~ynan, and Chaldean, e~ch 22; the Arabic, 28; the Persian and Egyptian,, each. 32; the Turk1s~,. 33; the Georgian, 36; the Armenian, 38;
~~ Sanscnt, 50; th e Abyssm1an, 202 ; and the Indian, or Brahmari.ic, 240.

§ 14. Coniparison of Different Alphabets.-As letters are
merely arbitrary marks used to denote the elemental sounds
of which spoken language is composed, the number of letters
\n the alphabet of any people ought to correspond exactly with
the number of such sounds which they employ. Yet in no
language do we find this to be the case. In some the alpha· '•
betic characters are the more numerous, in consequence both '
9f thfl admission of more than one letter to express the same
tound, and of the introduction of characters to denote com-

11

(;
';

ALPHABETIC WRITING.

'

§ 13. 'Who introduced letters into Greece, and how many were there? H ow m any
were subsequently added, and by wh om ?
H ow was th o Phcenlcian language written? What other lnngtrnge was written si m·
ilnrly to it? What change was afterwnr<ls made as regards th e Greek Inngunge ?
'What laws were written in this style? By wbom was tbe present method of writing
introduced? ·wh at alphabets were clerivecl from the Greek ? How mnny letters dill ,
the Latin alpliabet contain? What alph abet was derived fi·orn it? How do th e two
correspond ?
§ 14. What nre lette rs? With what ought th e numhe.r of lelt.ers in the nlphnbet of
any people to curreq)()nd? Do we find such a correspondcucc? 'Vhnt Is th e reason .
of this inconsistency? How do the different alphabets compare In th e number of their

29 .

Ital~an,

--·-·---''

LESS ON V.
FORJIIAT!ON OF LANGUAGE.

§ 15. THERE is every reason, as we have seen to believe
that, w~ile _in the i~vention of language man was 'assisted by
·the Deity, it was still only after many years of gradual <level', opment an~ i~p;ovem~nt that it arrived at its present peifect10n. As it rn impossible for us to ascertain how far divine ·
. assi~tance ~~s vouchsafed, we shall consider the steps of for~ .~at10n as it is most likely they would. be taken by man, inde- ·
P.en.d ently of a direct revelation, under the stimulus of neces·
s1ty and the desire of pleasing.
·
· ·
- o·; The first words were, no doubt, Interjections; for it would
be. natural for men, however savage or ignorant of the use of
employ exclamations for the purpose of expressing
IOnnds, and ho.w in the number of their letters ? How many letters does the English
It
alphabet contain? Th e French ? Italian ? Spanish ? Russian? H ebrew s
8 ti
d Cl 1
, arnar an,
1 a9, an
ia de_nn?
Arabic? P ersian and Egyptian? Turkish .?" Georgian?
.
:Armenian? Sanscrtt? Abyssinian? Intlian, or Brah manic ?
ikf .15. Is It probabl e th at 11 complete system of langnago was given to man 1 How
hu It been brought to its present perfection? What words, Is it supposed, were first

30

FORMATION OF LANGUAGE.

FORMATION · OF LANGUAGE.

their sudden emotions. The words that next came into use
did not probably denote the name of any particular object;
but were such as expressed a whole sentence, indicati:Tc of desires or fears, or intended to convey some important news or
information; as, the eneniy is coming, the victory is ours.
Individual objects next engaged attention. 'l'he savage
lived, we will say, in the midst of a forest. Inasmuch as he
derived his means of subsistence partly from certain trees
which it contained, he was soon compelled, in his intercourse
with others, to allude to them, and represent them by some
name, or, as grammarians would say, Noun. This appellation he at first probably applied to all similar objects. It was
not till experience taught him the <lifference between oaks,
cypresses, ce<lars, &c., and their respective peculiarities, that
he gave them specific names. As it often became necessary
to allude to more than one, it was not long before a distinct
form was adopted to denote the plural number.
Before all the visible objects of creation had been thus
arranged into classes and distinguished by general appellations, and before experien~e and observation had assigned particular names to the various species, it must have been necessary for men occasionally to allude to a specific object in contradistinction to the rest of its class. To identify it, therefore,
intelligibly to another, they would have to distinguish it by
stating either its distinctive qualities or the relations in which
it stood to other objects. 'Thus, if they desired to allude to
a tree of particular size, or one standing by a spring, instead
of characterizing it as the fir or the elm, they would naturally
say, the large tree, the tree by the spring. In this way were
formed Adjectives, which generally express quality, and Prepositions, which indicate the relations subsisting between Nouns
(often called substantives) and other words.

, Though several important steps had by this time been
taken towards the formation of a complete system of language,
yet the -means which it afforded of distinguishing objects were
still imperfect; for, when any substantive was used in discourse, as tree, river, horse, how was it to be known which of
the many individuals embraced in the general class, which
tree, river, or horse, was meant? When the thing alluded to
was within the range of sight, it could without difficulty be '
pointed out by a movement of .the hand; but, when this was
not the case, it became necessary to invent words by which
the particular object intended could be specified. Hence
arose the Adjective pronouns this and that, and the Article
the.
Verbs must necessarily have been coe'?Ul with the first
at.tempts towards the formation of language, as no affirmation
can be expressed without the assistaq_ce of this part of speech.
We seldom speak except to express our opinion that something is or is not, that some act does or does not take place;
and the word which affirms the fact or state is always a
Verb.

I

'1

l I
I

1·

l,

employed t Explain the reason. What words next came into use? Give nn example
Dcscribo the wny in w hich Nouns wer e formed . When were specific nam es coined?
What 11istinct form wns afterwards adopted, nncl why? Describe the necessity which
call ed for th o Adjective. Give nn example. What other cln..<>s of words hnd tho same ·

.3l

. Thus, thwi, we have seen Interjections, Nouns, Adjectives,
Prepositions, Articles, Adjective Pronouns, and V crbs, successively caUcd for by the wants of men, and consequently invented as component parts of language. Personal Pronouns
were probably the creation of a later age. A young child, it
has been observed, almost invariably repeats the noun instead
• · of using the substitute. Speaking of himself, a child would
be likely to say, "Give Johnny Johnny's whistle", and not
"Give rne my whistle." So great, indeed, seems to be the
disinclination of youthful minds to multiply terms that it is
often found quite difficult to teach them the use of the proorigin? Give an exnmple. Give an account of the origin of th e Adjective Pronouns
What Article origlnnted in tho same way? Wbnt class of words is
required for the expression of affirmations? When did they come into use ?
, . Of what class of words have we thus fnr traced the origin? What part of speech
_was the creation of n later age? Ara children generally Inclined to use th{l personal
this and tliat.

.

,

I

1. _(
32

noun. Such was the case, in all probability, with man in the
infancy of his being ; and it is not likely tliat he added this
new species of words to his primitive and necessary stock,
until sufficient advance h~d been made in th e formative process to show their great advantage as r egards brevity of expression and pleasantness of sound.
Among the early races of men, it seems probable that
there was much less said than at the present day. Their sent ences were at once fewer, shorter, and simpler, than ours.
As successive advances, however, were made, and it was found
that mutual intercourse was a source of pleasure, men did not
confine themselves simply to what it was necessary to communicate, but imparted freely to each other even such
thoughts as had no practical bearing. The original brief
mode of expression was gradually laid aside; longer sentences were used ; and a new class of words was required to connect clauses so closely related in construction and sense as
not to admit of separation into distinct periods. This was the
origin of Conjunctions; and the same cause, when man's taste
was still furth er improved and he began to think of beautify·
ing language while he extended its power of exp ~ ss ion, led to
the invention of the R elative Pronoun.
To t ell how, when, and where the action expressed by the
verb was performed, and also to indicat e the degree in which
any object possessed a certain quality, as for instance how tall
a tree was, man's inventive faculties were· not long in perceiving that a new species of words was required and in forming
them accordingly. Adverbs were thus introduced; and with
them the elements of language, or Parts of Speech, as they
are termed, were complete. Man now had the means of ex·
pressing fully and intelligibly all that came into his mind;
I

r

FORMATION OF LANGUAGE.

FORMATION OF LANGUAGE.

pronoun? What do they employ in its place? What is gained by lhe use of the P er· ·
sonal Pronoun? What was the character of tho senten ces usetl by the early races of '
men? "What change took place in the course of time? What kind of sentences came
into use? What new class of words was thus required? What pnrl:s of speech ·orlgi·
natcd in this way? Describe tho origin of Adverbs. What nre the elemenl:s of Jan·

33

and his future efforts were to be directed, not to the creation
of new elements, but to improving and modifying those already
devised, to harmonizing the whole and uniting them in a con·
s~stent system. Up to this point necessity had operated i the
improvements subsequently made must be attributed to the
, desire of p'leasing.
•1r!J § 16. In thus tracing the origin of the Parts of Speech,
we,have based our theory and deductions on the supposition
. t_ha.t man's starting-point was a state of utter ignorance. It
.is .believed by many that this ignorance was entailed on the
hqman. race at the same time with death, as a punishment for
.•ihe ;first disobedience; that, immediately on their . expulsion
· f,_-om. Eden, our first parents lost that enlightenment with
' ~hich they had been originally endowed by the Deity. Others
t..ihi~k that this sinking to savagism was gradual, and was the
, result of the moral degradation which, as the Bible informs
. us, c_h aracterized most of the descendants of Adam at the
.~~me of the Deluge. In either of these cases, or if there was
.no direct revelation from on high, the successive steps in the
1 ~ormation of language were probably similar to those described
!-hove, for such would be their natural order. If God did
~;assist men directly, it is likely that He merely put them in
jp9,ssession of such elements as barely enabled them to com·
. _ql.,UJ'.!-jcate with ". each other what was . absolutely essential, and
,~at much was left for hum'.1-n ingenuity to devise j in which
case, also, we may conclude that the steps of formation were
• successively taken in the order described above.
,
: ·~, !µ .iv-hat condit.ion men · were as regards their language at the time
.oC the J?eluge, c~nnot be ascertained. Different communities probably
• spoke d1fferen.t dialects, of greater or less comprehensiveness and power
expression, according to the various circumstances of their position

:or'

'Ml-d history.
page, or classes of words, cnllod? After the formation of the parl:s of speech, to what
•'tl"tre man's efforl:s d irecterl ?
' I 16. On what suppo-ltion is this th eory of the origi n of words based? According
to eom11, when was this ignorance entailed on mnn? What is the opinion of others on
this BQbject? In either case, whnt seems probable with re~pcct to tbe steps or for·
·IDatlon f To what extent Is it lik ely that the Deity ru;slsted men? What is said re·
prding the different dialects spoken at the time of the Deluge?

•

2*

34

omorn

OF THE ENOLISII J,ANOUACm.

LESSON VI.
ORIGIN OF THE ENGLISH LA NGUAGE.

§ 17. Britain before the Roman Conqu cst.-'l'he earliest
authentic account that we have of the inhabitants of 13ritain
is from Julius Crosar, by whom the southern part of the
island was conquered in the year 54 n. c. 'l'he Homan gen·
eral informs u s that he found the people of Kent far more
civilized than the r es t, and adds that there was no great uiffor- ,
ence between their customs and tho se of Gaul.* 'l'his is not
to be wondered at, as the southern part of the islanu was unquestionably peopleu directly from Gaul; that is, from the
northern districts of what is now called France, which lay
directly opposite and were separated from it by a strait so
narrow as to prove no obstacle to emigration. 'l'lic historian
Tacitus, who, in his Life of Agricola, takes occasion to describe the ancient British, confirms this account. He remarks
that many points in the personal appearance of the Silurcs, or
inhabitants of South W ales, together with their proximity to
the Spanish coast, afford sufficient foundation for the belief
that they were a branch of the Iberi, or first settlers of Spain ;
while there was little question that the parts opposite to Gaul
had been seized on by the people of that country, their respective languages, religious rites, and general characteristics,
bearing a marked resemblance to each other. t

* Ex his omnibus Ionge sunt humani ssimi qui Can ti um incolunt:
qme r egio est maritima omnis; neque multum a Gallica diffcrunt consuctudinc.-C.tEsAn, de B ello Gallico, Lib. V., c. 14.
t In univcrsum tamen restimanti, Gallos vicinum solum occupnsse
credibile est. Eorum sacra reprehcndas, superstitionum p ersuasion e :
sermo lrnuu multum diversus: 111 d eposccndis periculis en.elem audacia,
§ 17. "Who furnish es us wilh tho earliest anthcnlic account of tho people of
Ilritain? "What part of the Island did C::csnr conquer, and when? Which of the inhabitants <lid he find most civ ilized? Whom di<! they rcscm blo In th eir mnn11crs an1!
customs? How ls this account ed for? Who confirm~ CmMr's account? ·where did
the Silures live? From whom, according to Tacitus, did they derive th eir origin? Ily
whom does ho think that tho parts opposite Gani were peopled? What great rnce had

ORIGIN OF TIIE ENGLISH LANOUAOE.

35

'
The great Celtic race was at this early period scattered
·over the whole of Southwestern Europe; and no doubt successive bodies had found their way to Britain either directly
.
'
'
or after a temporary residence on the opposite coasts of the
.continent. At the time of Cresar's invasion therefore in
. Brit~in, as well as in Gaul and Spain, dialect~ of the g;~t
Celtic tongue were spoken ; but it was not to this original
vernacular that our English of the present day owes its origin.
vVe allude to it here because it is important that the student
.should be acquainted with its history and be able to trace its
• connection with our language, in the formation of which it has
.h ad its share, in a measure directly, but more particularly
through the medium of its derivatives, the Latin and Norman
French.
Ireland appears to have been originally peopled by colonies from
Cartlrnge,. a~1d through this channel to have received its language from
the Phcemc1:ws, to whom also the Celts seem to have been indebted for ·
theirs. Their own historian s declare this to have been the case· and
the Irish language was originally called Bearni Feni, or the Phce~ician
tongue. No inscription, however, is to be found in Ireland in Phcenician
characters; and it is therefore probable that the colonies which emigrated thither from Carthage started after the First Punic War for it
was at this period that the Ca1-thogiuia11s gave up their own al~habet
for that of the Romans. Subsequently to this settlement, there was
probably a considerable influx of Iberi 1'l:om Spain; who carried with
them their Celtic dialect, and, grafting it on the Phcenician before in
use, produced a tongue which, though not identical with that of ancient
Britain, bore a close resemblance to it.
et, ubi. advenere, in detractandis eadem formido.-TACITUS, Julii .Agricolre Vita, XI.
·
settled In Southwestern Europe? \Vhnt lnnguage prern!led both there and In Britain•
nt tile lime of Crosnr's invasio n? Is Celtic the groundwork of English? What share
has It hnd in the formation of our lnn gungo?
Whence docs Irclnn<l seem to hnvo been peopl ed? From whom did It receive Its
langungo? What was th o Irish lnngungo originally called? At what p eriod ls It
probable thnt th e Carthrrginian colonies emigrnt<•tl to Irclanrl? What reason Is there
for this snpposition? Whnt. other clement, besides the Phrenlc!nn tongue, had 6 share
in the for111ation of ancient Irish? By whom was the Celtic language inttoduc~il Into
Ireland ? What islands, also, were colonized by the Spaniards? What was their ancient name ? For what were they renowned P What people carried on an extensive

The Spaniards, also, we are informed by Dionysius,* colonized t.he
Scilly Isles, those famous Kassiterides, renowned among the :wcients for
their exhaustless stores of tin. The Phrenicians seem, from a very early
date, to have carried on an extensive commerce with these islands, for
the express purpose of supplying the nations ou the Mediterranean with
this useful metal. For a long time they succeeded in k eepi11g the positi~n of the islands a secret; and we are informed that a Phrenician
trader, perceiving himself to be watched by a Roman merchantman, ran
his vessel ashore rather than betray their locality, and was recompensed
for hia loss from the treasury of the .state. The successive attem pts of
different nations to discover these valuable island s were, h owever, at
last successful; and the Kassiterides, as well as the Inrge islands to
which they were adjacent, -were soon peopl ed by the restless Celts.

§ 18. Celtic Language.-The Celtic L::w guage deri>es
its name from the word KEA.Tot, the appellation given by the
Greeks to the primitive inhabitants of Western Europe, who
came originally from the same stock as the Greeki=i and
Romans themselves, but had pushed their migrations further.
The name was afterwards assumed by an individual tribe, who,
after various wanderings, settled in Gaul immediate ly south of
the Loire. Celtic is regarded by etymologists as the parent of
most of the languages of Southern and 'V es tern Europe, of some
African tongues, and the various dialects of the two Tartaries. t
Latin and Greek are also reckoned among its derivatives.+

*
'A<f>J!EIOI

7e11e8ll.71
cqa.UOI '1T0.10ES 'l{371pw11.

To81 1<a<J<JtTEpot0

J/CZIOU<J'IJ/

Dro:-11srns, Pericrg., '· 563.
La langue celtique duns son sens le plus extendu, e't la langue que
parlerent Jes premiers habitans de l'Europe, depuis Jes rives de !'Hellespont et de la .Mer Egee, jusques a celle de l'ocean; clepuis le cap Sigee
aux portes de Troie, jusques au cap de Finisterre in Portugal, ou jusques
en Ireland.-GEBELIN, Disc. Prclim., art. 2.
t Lingua Hetrusca, Phrygia, Celtica, affines sunt omnes; ex uno
fonte derivatre. Nee Gr::eca longe distat; Japhetic::e sunt omnes ergo et
ipsa Latina.-STIERNHELM.

t

I

I

ORIGIN OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

ORIGIN OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

36

trade with the Kaasiterid es? What lnciclent Is related in illnstration of th e value wl1ic'n
the Phrenicinns set upon their exclusive trade with these Islands? By whom, at last,
were the Kassiterides peopled?
~ 18. l<'rom what does tue Celtic language derive Its name? From what stock did
th~ Kei\701 spring? By whom was the name afterwards assumed? What tongues
have been formed from ti.JO Celtic? From what language was Celtic an offehoot 1
What resemblance confirms this fact?

37

Celtic was itself an offshoot from the Hebrew or Phoonician tongue; thus _etymology, as well as profane history, con·
firms the account given by Moses of the peopling of the earth
from one parent family. A marked resemblance may still be
observed between the Hebrew and "\Velsh of the present day i
and we c~~ only wonder that thirty centuries, involving flO
many political revolutions, should not have produced a greater
difference between them.
As we have said that the original British was derived from
the same stock as the language of Greece and that of Rome, it
may seem strange that there was not sufficient resemblance
between it and the latter to be observed and recorded by
Cmsar when he invaded the island. It must be remembered
however, that centuries had elapsed from the time of thei~
formation ; that all languages at that early day, being spoken
rather than written, were particularly liable to mutations·
and that, after separating from each other, all intercourse be'.
tween the kindred tribes ceased, and their dialects must there.fore in a great measure have lost their affinity. The radicals
common to both must have assumed distinct forms and the
'
_new objects and inventions peculiar to each must have origin~ted new terms to which th13 others were strangers.
As thoy
did not advance towards civilization with the same degree of
rapidity, so their respective languages could not · have been
equally copious or polished ; for words multiply 1with ideas
a_nd successive advances in art and science. In process of
•time, these causes, added to the difference in the natural
·features of their respective countries and in the objects with
·~.which they were surrounded, must have obscured the common
·· roots, and produced such accessions of new words to each dialect as to make them seem entirely distinct from one another.
:~

1

Even the t_emperature, soil, and atmosphere of a country have a
effect on its language. "It is commonly observed," says Rowland,

~reat

What connection had Greek and Latin with the original language of Britain?
How, then, is it to be explained that there was not sufficient resemblance between them
tJ to be observed anil recorded by Cresar? ·what changes must have been made nncl
• •Why? What natural circumstances prod nee changes in the hmgunge of a cou~try?
1•

38

ORIGIN OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

ORIGIN OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

the learned author of ":Mona Anti qua Re;,torata ", "that different climates, airs, and aliments, do very much dirersify the ton e of the parts
and muscles of human bodies; on some of which the modulation of the
voice much depends. The peculiar moisture of one country, the drought
of another (other causes from food, &c., concurring), extend or contract,
swell or attenuate, the organs of the voice, so that the sound made
thereby is rendered either shrill or hoarse, soft or hard, plain or lisping,
in proportion to that contraction or extension. And hence it is, that
the Chinese and Tartars have some sounds in their language that Europeans can scarcely imitate."

It is probable that the Celtic spoken in Britain and Gaul
before their conquest by the Romans bore a much closer resemblance to the parent tongue than the dialects that prevailed in the Southeast of Europe; for the obvious reason that
the former countries had paid less attention to literature and
science, enjoyed fewer opportunities of intercourse with other
nations, and suffered less from invasion, war, and conquest.
§ 19. Branches of Celtic.-Of the Celtic stock there are
two branches; the British or Cambrian, and Gaelic or Erse.
The former was the dialect that anciently prevailed in Britain and Gaul; embracing the Cornish, spoken till a recent
period in Cornwall, and the Armorican of the French province
of Bretagne. . It is represented by the 'Velsh of the preserrt
day. 'l'o the second or Erse branch belong the ancient and
present Irish, the Gaelic of the Highlands of Scotland, and
the l\'Ianks of the Isle of l\'Ian.
In the first class is placed, as we have seen, the language of Bretagne or Brittany, on the north-west coast of France, genera.Jly called
Arruorican. An astonishing resemblance exists between this tongue and
Welsh, which proves them to have had a common origin and to have
suffered very few subsequent modifications. So similar are they that

! lrhen a Welsh regiment passed through Brittany some years since, after
,the conquest of Bellisle, they could converse with the inhabitants and
were readily understood by them. When and how this district was set~ed is not known; but the inhabitants are manifestly of British, and
therefore primarily of Celtic, origin. Some suppose that a body of
•British were driven by the Saxons across the Strait of Dover and setiled
the French coast; others give credit to a tradition which prevails
·among the .Armoricans, that they are descended from some British soldiers who were summoned to Italy ns auxiliaries to the Roman army,
and who, on their return, seized ou this district for a home in conse,'$JUence of having learned that the Saxons had become masters of their
native land.

on

~ r-1

·• , § 20. Peculiarities of Celtic.-Of the ancient Celtic we
;can form a tolerably correct idea by examining the modern
Welsh and Irish. Its peculiarities seem to have been,
, I. A lack of inflection in its nouns; that is, they did not
undergo any change of termination to indicate a change
of case. The modern Irish has a peculiar form for the
dative plural ; but with this exception there is no change
in the terminations of nouns either in Irish, Welsh, or Armorican.
A system of initial mutations, by which the noun alters
its first letter or receives a prefix, according to its relation to other words in the sentence.
It must be remembered that we are now speaking of the
" ~original language of Britain, and not of the English of the
"pr!'.JSent day, The formation of the latter was the work of a
")ater date. Yet it contains some traces of the old Celtic, in·
-r ~.troduced either directly from the remains of that language,
"

What does Rowland say in this connection? "Which resembled more closely the
pnrent tongue, tbe Celtic of Gaul and Britain, or that of Southeastern Europe ? ·what
reason is assigned for this?
§ 19. How many branches are th ere of tho Celtic stock? Name th em. Where did
the British or Cambrian prevail? What dialects did it embrace ? By what i8 it represented at the prese nt day? What languages belong to the Erse branch? To which '
branch does the language of Brittany belong? What is it generally called? What
tongue does Armorican rrsemble? What doos this prove? Rclato nn incident illus-

39

1

.:tratlve of the resemblance between Welsh and Arrnorican. When and how was Brit41tany settled? How do some ooconnt for its settlement? What tradition prevails
among the Armoricans on the subject?
at' ' § 20. How may WO form an idea of the ancient Celtic? What peculiarity belonged
~J to Its nouns? How do modern Irish, W elsb, and Armorican agree with ancient Celtic
to this particular? How was the relation between the noun and other words In tho
aenwnce indicated?
''. · Is Celtic, the original language of Britain, the groundwork of our present English f
· :What connection is there between them

40

OitlGIN OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

still preserved in their greatest purity in the British Isles, .or
at second-hand from the Norman French or some other denvative from the same stock.
§ 21. Period of Roman Supremacy.-Britai~ wa.s subjugated by the Romans about 50 B. c., a1~d remamed m p~s­
session of its conquerors for four centunes. It was an !~­
variable point of policy with the Homans to introduce th~1r
own language into conquered states, as the n~o:'lt effective
means of removing their prejudices and reconc1l111g them to
th eir bondage. Latin, consequently, supplanted a number of
abori{J'inal tongues J'ust as English has superseded the vernao
'
.
cular:; of the native Indians of America. In some countries,
. where a war of extermination was carried on, this change was
'immediate · in others it was more gradual. The Celtic of
'
Britain, however,
does not seem to have received much mo d'1:fication during the period of Roman supremacy. Our lan·
guage has, it is true, many derivatives from the Latin; but
these came through the medium of the Norman French, and
were not introduced in the days of Cresar or his immediate
successors. Though numerous Homan garrisons were stationed
in the island, and though many of the British youth were.
drafted into the armies of the Empire, while others were sent
to Rome for their education, yet, either from their inaptness at
learning or their aversion to those ':ho had de~rived. them of
liberty, the mass of the people contmue~ :fir~r1 111 their. attach- .
ment to their ancient language and 111 its exclusive use. . .
Many, however, of the higher classes became acquainted with .,..',
1
Latin and through their means some words were introduced •
from it which are still found in modern ·wcl sh. English, also, ~
contains a few terms introduced from the language of the
§ 21. At what date did tho Romans subjugate Britain? How long did it rcmnin I~
their possession? What policy did the Romans pursue in the states they c~nquered.
What was the consequence? Docs the Celtic of Britain appear to have received much . '.
modification during the period of Roman supremacy? How, th en, nre we to account .
for th e Lntin doriv~tlves in onr language? What opportun ities rli<l the British ~o.11th .;
h ave of Jonrning the Roman tongue? 'Vhy di<l th ey not embrnco th ese opport11nit10s ? )
What class remained firmest in their attachment to theil' ancient lan guage? Through ;.

ORIGIN OF THE ENGLISH. LANGUAGE.

41

~Roinans at this period; such as the word street; from the
· Latin strata; and names of places ending in coln, a contrac~ion of colonia (a colony), and in cester, derived f;om :c~~t;·h
. '(a. ·ca.mp). Hence the origin of Lincoln, Leicester, Gloucester,
&c.

LESSON

VII.

ORIGIN OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE (coNTINUEtD).

ti_-~ 11 § 22. The Saxon Conquest.-In this state of comp~iv..e..a....

pu~ity the language of the British Celts remained until the
beginning of the 5th century. About this time, the whole of
·s~uthern Europe began to be overrun by Goths, Huns, and
'ot_her Northern barbarians; who, allured by the advantages of
ti milder climate and more productive soil, emigrated from
~hat was then called Scandinavia, answering to our modern
<No;way and Sweden, and wrested province after province from
the~Roman ·Empire.
Their conquest was so complete as to
eff~ct ~ radical change in the customs, laws, and of course dial~cts; of the districts they subjugated. The languages spoken
bf the Northern tribes were mostly of a ·common, origin;,· and
bei~nged to ~he great Gothic ' stock; yet, though resembling
- each other ' i~ their main feat~res, they were distinguished . by
· iri.any ~inor · points of difference. The Huns and Lombards,
overr~~nin'g Italy, soon corrupted the Latin language and orig' '
.
inated the modern Italian. The Franks and Normans, grafting their vernacular on the Latin-Celtic of Gaul, produced

,

..

. what class were a few Latin words introduced nt this early period? Give some Latin
· .-• d~v~tivos of this date, with the words from which they were formed.
' ~~§
How long did the Celtic of Britain remain comparatiYely pure? About this
time, what incnrHions b egan to be made in Southern Europe? Whence did the Northbarbarians come? ·what was the result of th eir conquests? To what stock did
tlielr languages belong? Which of those tribes overran Italy? Wlrnt language originated ·1n their corruptions of Latin? What tribes grafted their vernacular on tho

22.

ern

....

_________

-......---- .._............_........
~

42

- -·-

.

Norman French. Spanish and Portuguese arose from a similar combination of th e language of the Visigotl1s with the half
Celtic and half Roman patois of t.he Peninsula, subsequently
modified by the introduction of some Arabic elements during
the supremacy of th e Moors in Spain.
Nor did Britain escape invasion. While the attention of
Scandin~vian nations was directed principally towards South· ·
ern Europe, several German tribes fixed their eyes on tlus I SO·
lated province of Rome i and, either allured by the hop e of
plunder, or induced to send out colonies by the denseness of
their population, despatched thither successive expeditions.
Prior to this period, indeed, German colonies of greater or less
size had been planted in Britain; for we read that this was done
by the Emperor Antoninus, at the close of the war with the
Marcomanni. These early settlers, however, were t oo few to
effect much change in the customs of the inhabitants. It may
have been through these colonists that their kinsmen on the
continent obtained a knowledge of th e island, and were induced to emigrate thither in such numbers. Other accounts
state that they went on the invitation of the British th emselves,
who solicited their assistance against the Picts, a fi erce race
occupying the northern part of the island i and that, having
succeeded in vanquishing the latter, they were tempted_ to re·
main by the fertility of the soil and the pleasantn ess of the
climate. However this may be, the first expedition of which
we have any authentic account was led by H eng ist and Horsa,
and effected a landing on the shores of Kent, A. D. 449. It
was in this county, therefore, that the original British was
first superseded by the mother-tongue of our present English.
Latin-Celtic ofGnul? What tongue was thus prodncecl ? How did Spanish and Por·
tuguese arise ? What clements wero subsequently introduced?
T o what part of Europe was th o attention of Scandinavian nati ons principally
directed? What tribes fixed th eir eyes on Britain? ·wh nt inducer! them to send ex·
p eclitions thither ? By whom, nnd nftl!r what war, had German colonies been previously
planted in Britain? H ad th ese early settlers effected any change in th e customs of the
inhnbitnnts? How did the Germans come to send expeditions t o B ritain in the fifth
century? Why did th ey remain in Britain? Who led tho first expedi tion ? Where

43

ORIGIN ' OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

ORIGIN OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

. - '.Two traditions are handed down with respect to the stratagem by
means of which Hengist procured sufficient land for hishfirst settlement.
Geoffrey of Monmouth, a Welsh historian of the twelft century, states
that he purchased for a nominal sum as much land as could be inclosed
-,,;fth an ox-hide; and that then, having cut it into narrow strips, he
' aurrouncled with it an extent of ground sufficient for the erection of a
,castle. This is a familiar story, ft>nnd in the traditions of various nations.· The other version is given by the Saxons. They say that their
great leader bought from the inhabitants a lap-full of earth at what
e~emed to his companions an extravagant price; but that he proceeded
~sow this soil over a large tract, and then, since it could not be distin~lied from the other ground, laid claim to the whole, and made good
~hi!=- his' pretensions by force of arms.
· • .i A 'second expedition from the north of Germany followed
. ·in the year 447, under the command of Ella. This chieftain
'established himself in what is now called Sussex (that is,
South Saxony). The kingdom s of Wessex (West Saxony), lying
iii "what is now known as the County of Rants, and Essex
(East Saxony), were next settled by successive expeditions, in
the ' years 495 aud 530 resl'ectively. After this, large bodies
Germans were constantly arriving. It is unnecessary to
tr~~e any further the history of their emigrations.
.• "A.s soon as they found themselves possessed of sufficient
strength, the new comers formed the determination of seizing
·
\. upon the whole island, or at ieast all those parts of it that
1
were specially favored by Nature. In this they fi~ally suc·
ceeded i and the original inhabitants, to avoid extermination,
were obliged to flee to the mountains of Wales and Cornwall,
where they n;iaintained their independence for many centuries,
and have preserved their language, with but little alteration,
"
to~the present day. In the rest of the island, however, a radiCal· change both in language and customs immediately took

o(

• 'l"

.

did they effect a landing, and wh en? Wh at tradition is preserved by Geoffrey of Mon- '

.mouth respecting IIengist's strntngem for p rocu ring land? What is the Saxon acoouut?
In what year did n second 11xpedition follow? Under wh oso command? Where
c11d this chieftain establish himself ? What kingdoms were next settled, and in what
jciara ?' What determination did the new comers soon form? Did they succeod In
earr7lng it through? Whither were the original inhabitants obliged t o flee? What

••
I

44

I
l

r

ORIGIN OF THE ENGLI SH LAN GUAGE.

place. There was no engrafting of one tongue on another, as
was the case in Southern Burope; but an immediate substitution of the lano·uagc of the conquerors for that of the vanquished. The ~ongue spoken by these German invaders is
therefore the real ground work of our language ; a fact well
established by history, as well as by the etymological analogies
subsisting between English and the various dialec ts of Gothic
origin.
.
§ 23. 7'/w Invaclcrs.-By which of the German tnb es ~the
expeditions alluded to were fitted out, was formerly a subJect
of doubt but seems now to be satisfactorily established. The
'
.
Saxons, Angles, and Frisians, appear to have been th e prmcipal oucs concerned in th em. Of these, th e first occupied the
valley of the River vV eser, their territory, as far as we can
now locate it, corresponding with the Kingdom of Hauover,
the Duchy of Oldenburg, and part of Holstein. They were a
powerful people, and constituted the chief body of the. invaders. This is inferred from the fact that the ancient
Britons knew their German conquerors by no other name than
that of Saxon s · and still further because this is th e appella. '
.
tion which the W elsh, Armoricans, and Gallic-Celts umversally apply to the English of the present day. Y et, though
the Saxou element originally preponderated, the Angles were
evidently strongly represe nted; for they enj oy the di stinction
. of having given their name permanently to the island, England being nothing more than a corruption of Angleland.
Who these Angles were, is by no means certain. T acitus
and Ptolemy allude to them ; the former, indefinitely, in connection with other tribes, while the latter locates them in the
central part of the valley of the Elbe. They seem at one
time to have been a distinct and powerful tribe, and were perc!Jange took placo in tile rest of th e islancl? What tongue is th o real gro11nclwork of
·
our language? How is this fact establishccl?
§ 23. What Germ an tribes seem to have tnken th e prin cipal part. in t~1 e in: asion
of Britain ? Wh ere did the Saxons live ? With whnt modern countri es dut their ter• .
ritories correspond? Wh ence do we infor thnt tho Saxons constituted tho chief body .
of the invaders? What other tribe was strongly roprooentocl? 'Vhnt rcnson have wo •

ORIGIN OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

45

·haps allied by birth to their Saxon neighbors. Having become
'reduced in number by war or some other calamity; they
. ,were incorporated with the latter, and found their way to
Dritain along with them. vVhile on the Continent, they were
_f~r outnumbered by the Saxons, and played so unimportant
a part that little mention is made of them in history : the in1
_fluence of the two nations in Britain was more nearly equal;
1and the Angles may at length have preponderated over their
pnsmen and allies, and thus succeeded in giving name to their
~~ habitation and its language.
••1 •. The Frisians are not generally thought to have formed
part of the German settlers of Britain; but that they were
,concerned in one or more of the expeditions seems probable
•, from the following considerations : -

.I: ,Occupying the whole coast from the Zuyder Zee to the
· mouth of the Elbe, they must have been situated between
o. • · the Saxons and the sea, and are therefore likely to have
!I> ·,• • joined the latter tribe, to a greater or less extent, in their
maritime expeditions.
,JI. The historian Procopius, speaking of Britain, expressly
·0'' mentions the Frisians as composing a part of its popula. ~r;; .; , tion. * Hen gist himself is represented as a Frisian by
~ ·, some authorities.
The Saxon Chronicle, also, alludes to
if J : Frisians in Britain .
1III. · The Frisian language, as now spoken in Friesland, bears
·r · a closer resemblance to English than any other known
a1'i

~ongue.

' • BptTTiav Ii~ Thv vijrrov ~6v71 Tp(a 7l'OAvav6p1:.nr&TaTa ~xov<Tt, /3a<TtAE6s

,., ffr ci.uTwv ~Kcl.rrrrp ;cpi!rrT71Kev, iiv6µaTa Ii~ Ke'L-ra1 Tolr ~6ve<T1 TovT01s A-y·
'.iy{l\.01. TE Kal 4> p ( <T <To VE r Kal o/ 'T?1 vfi<T'f' oµdwuµo1 BphTc.>VES.-PROCOPIUS,
JI.
IV. 20.

o:·

'fbr 'eupposlng this? What early historians allude to the Angles ? Wh ere does Ptolemy

l<icate th em? What seems to !Jave been th eir early history? On the Continent, how
did they compare in power ancl influence with the Saxons? H ow, in Britain? ·What
other tribe seem t o havo tnken part in these incursions? Explain how their
pcisltlon renclers this supposition probable. What historian nncl what work mention
Trhlans as forming part or the population of Britain? What warrior is by sonie repre·

I

I .

--

OlUGIN

46

01~

'.rHE ENGLISll LANGUAGE.

~t~nt, a temporary ad~ixture of foreign terms.

Dr. Latnain, whose re<1earches have thrown much light upon this
1mbject, and whose "Hand-book of the English Language" is replete
with scholarship ancl learning, thus sums np the whole matter: "It was
certainly from the Anglo-Saxon, and probably from a part of the Frisian
area, that Great Britain was first invaded."

* "A°AAOI S~

TI/pcra.1 elcrl o10e, Tiav01a'Aato1, .6.71povcr1a.'io1,

Clio, 125.

r E p µ. c{ VI

To decid~

w,bat words we owe to this era is extremely difficult, on ac-

§ 24. The Saxon Language.-The language which thus ··,
suddenly superseded the Celtic of the ancient British was, as ·~
\. has been remarked, an offshoot of the great Gothic stem, ·
[ which itself dates as far back as the Celtic. The nations
that spoke the various Gothic dialects lived in the northern
part of Europe 1 having probably emigrated at an early date
from Southwestern Asia, or been driven out by more powerful tribes. Their bards, whose business it was to recite the
exploits of their heroes, agree in assigning to their race an
Eastern origin j and Iforodotus mentions the Germans amoi.Jg
other tribes of ancient Persians.*. The Gothic stock is <livid·
[: ed into two great branches : the Scandinavian, including the
· : dialects of Norway, Sweden, Denmark, and Iceland; and the
•
Teutonic, or Germanic. To this latter division Anglo-Saxon
1
belongs.
' § 25. Nors e or Danish Element.-The first introduction
of a foreign element into the pure Saxon of England was oc-.
casioned by the invasion of the Scandinavian nations during
the ninth and the tenth century. The pirates who effected •
the conquest of the island are generally called Danes; but the
Norwegians seem to have played the principal part in these
expeditions, Their supremacy must have caused, to a certain

HERODOTUS,

47

ORIGIN. OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

O l •....:

"·

sented to have b een a Frisian? What additional evid en ce have wo In the language
now spoken in Friesland? What docs Dr. Latham say on the subject?
·1
§ 24. From what great stock did the Snxon language spring? Where did the
Gothic dialects prevail at this time? From what part of the world did the nations
using them originally migrate? What evidence have wo of this ? Into how many
brnn che• is the Gothic stock divided? What are they? What dialects are In cl uded il)
the Scanrlinnvian brnnch? To which divi~lon does Anglo-Saxon belong?
,,
§ 25. Whnl occnsionecl the first introduction or n foreign element in to tbe pure Saxon
or Englnnn ? What unmo Is generally given to the pirato-conquorors? What nntlo~I. ·

,C}Pu..nt of the analogy subsisting between the Scandinavian and
German dialects, both of which, it will be remembered were
. from the same Gothic parent. It is certain, however,
'
,d~rived
• tha~ very few Danish terms were ultimately incorporated; as
. th~ island suffered a change of masters, rather than of people,
ou'stoms, or laws. The Norsemen have left in our language
bqtJittle trace of their invasion; and this chiefly in the names
of:places on or near the coast

- - •·•-..---

l. '

f1'
~f._..

LESSON VIII.
· ORIGIN OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE (CONTINUED).

it. .

1,."; ; §~6. Fi:st Introduction ,l'.!f 1:'orn:an French Elements.-

\

· ~.Qt _
perceptibly

affected by the mvas10ns of the Norsemen or
their temporary usurpation of the throne Saxon con'
~~ed to be the language of the island until the Norman Con· q~~.st, 1066 A. n.
During the six hundred years that elapsed
ij!tween its introduction and this event it underwent indeed
. modifications of greater or less moment·
'
'
'
fR._~e,j
and these are
.
I
J>!rticularly noticeable in the century immediately preceding
ihltbattle of Hastings. It was at this period that the first
~portation of Norman French words took place, under the
-~~~oes , of ~dward the Confessor. Educated in France and
p~ejudiced in favor of all that belonged to that country, this
· pWice, ,on returning to England and assuming the throne;
IUJTQ~n.ded himself with Norman favorites, and sought to inkoduce French customs into his court and French idioms into
AY~µ~by

.

/

'W Ui'oet to do with the

lnvnsion? Wbnt effect d.ld their supremacy produce on the
mnny new t erms lncorpomtcd? As regards tile names of places,
1'IMlre bavo they left the principal traces of their Invasion? What renders it difficult
aetermlne the words Introduced by tb e Norsemen?
96.' How long did Saxon, in comparative purity, continue to be the language of
,

~e?.'. Were

'

48

his language; much to the disgust of his subj ects, whose affec·
tions h e estranged by this injudicious course. Inconsiderable '
as were th e changes thus brought about, they served to pavo
the way for those fundamental modifications which tl1e Nor·
man Conquest was destined to produce.
§ 27. Norman Conquest and its Effects.-William, Duke
of Normandy, invaded E ngland 1066 A. D., and, having won_
the battle of Hastings, seated himself without delay upon the:'
throne. Resolved to wean the people from th eir ancient in:
stitutions, he endeavored, as the most effective means of ac·. ·
complishing this object, to make them forget their language.
·with this view, he ordered that in all schools throughout the
kingdom the youth should be instructed in the French tongue; ,
and this ordinance was generally complied with, and remained
in force till after the reign of Edward III. It was also re·
quired that the pupils of grammar-schools should translate
their Latin in to French, and that all conversation among;
them should be carried on in one of these two languages.
Anglo-Saxon was banished from the tribunals of the land, and
pleadings were required to be in French; deeds were drawn
and laws compiled in the same language ; no other tonguJ
was used at Court; it was exclusively employed in fashion·'
able society; and the English nobles themselves, ashamed of;
their own country, affected to excel in this foreign dialect?.
The lower classes, however, at fir st vi gorously resisted thesS'
attempts ; and for fifty years all that was done towards chang'
ing the language was effected by the hand of power. Yet in
spite of this feeling on the part of the people, even during the
very period in question, the intercourse necessarily carried on
with the Normans introduced not a few of their terms int .
common conversation. Thus undermined, popular prejudice

'i

I

ORIGIN OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGiJ:.

ORIGIN OF TIIE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

49

I

1.fr r

....·

IU~, ~ ·~eep!ng.

their.vernacular unalloyed?

How w ere Norman wordll

latrodnced f In what qualities did tho educated Saxons find that the Normrpwed their own 1 What was the state of feeling among the Saxons

England? What was tho principal m odification it bad pl'Cvionsly undergone? Wbq.
was th e nci th or of these cl1 angcs? For whnt did th ey pa\'O th e way 1
.
§ 2i. By whom ,-ras Enr;lnnd in,·aded 1066 A. D. ? \\h at bnttlo <ler.irl ed tb e fut.
of th e empire? '\\'lrnt was its result ? How dill th e Conqueror cnclen Yor to nlicnato
th o people from th ei r ancient institutions? In whnt w ere the youth instruct cu? · Wh '
'l\'RS nrnile th o language of tho courts? By whnt class were these attempts r esistod

/

after the Oonqueat f How far did this willingness extend? For wbat pur~1 clr]lw on t~e language of their oonq uerors ? Did the kings or the people

l1t:lr.JlMllr polJIU .T1fo

hundred years after the Conquest, what do we find?

~by

Into

that time converted 1 In 1362 what took placer In what localtlMM changee eoonest elfected f

-.

·~

.-

..

50

OIUGIN OF THE . ENGLISH LAN GU AGE.

§ 28. Conversion of Anglo-Saxon into English.-Marks
of the successive changes to which allusion has been made
are evident in the few extant writings of the twelfth and
the succeeding century. In the case of some of the productions of this transition period, critics have found it difficult to
decide whether they should be classed among the latest speci·
mens of Saxon, or the earliest of English, literature, bearing;
as they do, the characteristics of each; they have, therefore,
introduced the word SEm-SAxoN, which they apply to all.
writings between 1150 and 1250 A. D. Passing over a fow
works of minor importance, the Travels of Sir John Mande·
ville, written in 1356, may be called the first English book..
Wicliffe's Translation of the Dible followed twenty-seven
years afterwards, and did much towards fixing the unsettled
forms of the new language.
The English of these early times, however, differs much from that'
/

of the present day. Even the poetry of Chaucer, who wrote in the lat;
ter part of the fourteenth century, cannot b e understood without the
aid of a glossary. ·. Our language has not, to be sure, since the Norma11
invasion suffered any shock from the intermixture of conquerors, and
their dialects; but its appearance is much changed in consequence, n r
only of manifold simplifications in the spelling, but also of the disuse o
many Saxon terms (one fift.h of those current in Alfred's time being n~
obsolete), and the continual introduction of new words from the de
languages, as well as from the French, Italian, and Spanish. For sciell<\
tific terms resort has generally been had to the Greek; and, as new·diJ.
1
coveries have been constantly making since the Middle .Ages, the ad
tions from this source have been considerable. Commerce has
I

II

I

I
I
'

51

ORIGIN OF 'l'HE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

These changes, though covering in the kingdom at large a period of
two hundred years, were in some parts much sooner effected. The
greater the number and influence of the Norman inhabitants in any
given locality, the sooner did Anglo.Saxon prejudices give way and the
distinctive features of the French become blended with those of the
vernacular.

§ 28. In wbnt writings have we :rparks of th eso successive clrnn ges ? What writ!

nro classed as Semi-Saxon? What may be cnll cd the first English book? When
What work followed twenty-seven years nftcrwnrds ? How does this
English compnro with that of the present clny ? What ls snitl of Chnucer's poetrf
W]Jence arises this difference? What part of the Saxon words current In .A.lfr-ed's ·

it written?

widely extended; and commodities former~
duced ii:tto common use I;eta' .
.
y unknown have been intro'
u11ng In most c
tl · ~ .
Thus we have obtained the word
li
ases ie1r •Ore1gn names.
. t s c_amp ior, arsenic, and many others
The changes and addit'
ions JUs ment10ned as w 11
•
•
"fications which are found to h
,,,
'
e as a vanety of modiave auected not onl
every other modern tongue h
'
Y our own, but also
4.
•
, ave so a1tered the
· -!ldlghsh that a close examinat' .
appearance of the later
•• .
Ion Is necessary to
.
1~ :1dentity with the language f Ch
convmce the reader of
'
•
1
.
o
aucer.

'~ § 29. Clianges by wliicli A l S.
Englisli -The · ·
h ng o- axon was converted into
.
prmcipa1 c anges b
h. h A
~onverted into English, were,
Y w IC
nglo-Saxon was

:.:,_ I . .Modifications and contractions in th
11'
· 'll" Th ·
.
e spe mg of words

h
·
.·
e mtroductwn of French t
f
erms, P rases, and idioms.
.
.
c use o 1ess Ill
.
d
.
' '
verswn an ellipsis especially i"n
,
poetry.
'
~I-II Th

' IV.
The omission f · fl ·
'".· i
o rn ections or changes in the t

. .
of the nonn, and substitution of
..
erl:1J.mat10n
: Y its relations to other words Th. p;eposit10~s to express
is th
l
·
Is ast-mentwned change
.1-:.
.e o~ y one of sufficient importance to auth .
.
C'• cons1dermg the new derivative as an inde
or1ze us Ill
,, it It is an alteration which t.
pendent tongue.
' ' and is
Ime very often brings about .
t
"'
' perhaps, to be attributed rather to th
i1: ,; efforts of the people to simplify their
e na ura
tfj. 1 the effects of the Nor man C
grammar, than to
·.
it introd
. onquest or the new dialect
'J\'i'!.
uced. Observatwn shows that th. "t d
•... ; has by no means been confined to English Isit en ency
1 ·' be a un '
I
· .
·
seems to
.
L
iversa prrnc1ple that the f th
·
'
'
ur er we go back m
the histor f
i. changes
~n; ~v~tn language, the more terminational
. "
. .
I s nouns and verbs and th
£
-.·11, prcpos1t10ns and auxiliaries.
'
e ewer
·J· :.. ;

i

:e

_In now obsolete ? When co have we ob .

we received the words camp1'
tm_ned most of our scientific terms? How have
ior, arsenic and mnny oth
?
o t ese alterations and additions p
'
ers
What Ls said of the
I 29. Ment!on the four principal changes by which
-:Inglish, Which of these is th e most important?
A?g~o-Saxon was converted into
1
• • ,. t la . it attributable? Is this tenden
fl Iow is it often brought about? To
lllltber wo go back in tho history of a to _c y con ncd to the English. language? Tho
.
ngue, whnt do we tlnd 7

dect f h

\

l

•
52

ANALYSIS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

LESSON IX.
ANALYSIS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

§ 30. To recapitulate and enlarge on what has been sai.d
in the preceding lesson, it appears that our language, as it
now stands is composed of the following elements : 1. SAX~N.-Of the forty thousand words contained in our
fullest dictionaries twenty.three thousand are from this source j
as are, also, our chief peculiarities of construction and i<lio~.
Some of these it may be interesting to particularize. The mflection of our pronouns; the terminations of the possessive
case and plural number, as well as of the second and third
person singular of verbs; the syllables er and est, ~nd the
words niore and most, by which we form the comparative and
superlative of adjectives and adverbs ; the suffix ly (derived
from like), which enters into the formation of a large proportion of our adverbs:-all these are derived from the Saxon.
As to the words we have receiyed from it, they are those
which occur most frequently and are individually of the
greatest importance : such as the articles a, ~n, the; all our
pronouns ; the adjectives oftenest used, especially such as are
irregularly compared; the commonest adverbs of one syllable,
how, now, then, and the like; nearly all of the numero.us
irregular verbs, as well as the auxiliaries, .have, be, shall,, will,
&c. ; and the prepositions and conjunct10ns, almost without
exception.
Irregular nouns, adjectives, and verbs, are in every lang~nge among
the oldest words, and are very likely to be those most used m common
conversation; to which fact their deviation from regularity may often
§ 30. H ow many words are contained in onr full~st dictionnri:s? Of thc~c, h?w
many nrn Snxon? What terminations have we recei ve<~ fro_m tin s s~ur~e? Winch
of our words are Saxon? Mention some of them. 'Vhat 1s sn1d of the 1rrc.,11lnr nonns,
adjectives, nnd v erbs in every Jangunge? What striking objects have ~~cet;ed Saxon
nnm es ? Whence come most of onr abstract terms? 'Vh cnco, the spec1ficat10ns nnder
tbem? a Ive examples. What rich fund of words is almost entirely Saxon? 1'fonllon

ANALYSIS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

53

be traced. These, as we have seen, our Saxon ancestors gave us; to
them, also, we owe the names of the striking objects which constantly
meet our view, of sun and moon, land and water, hill and dale. While,
moreover, we borrow from the Latin or French most of our abstract
terms, the specifications classed 'under them are for the most part Saxon.
Thus Latin supplies us with the general term color; but to Saxon we
are indebted for the particular varieties, white and black, blue and yeZ..
low, red and brown : from the former we get the comprehensive term to
move; from the latter, the different kinds of motion, walking, running,
leaping, springing, gliding, creeping, crawling, kc. Hence, too, the rich
and necessary fund of words by which we expr0$s our feelings and passioILS as well as the relations which call them forth. These emotions
the Saxons shared with all others of the human race, and the words
which they employed in expressing them have come down to us ·almost
without alteration. To this class belong the words love and hate,· hope
and fear, smile and tear, sigh and groan, weeping and laughter, father
and mother, man and wife, son and daughter. Our common business
terms, the language of the shop, the market, and the form, have the
same or1gm. Saxon, therefore, besides dictating the laws and furnishing the ·particles by which our words are connected, yields the most
available terms for expressing the feelings, describing the objects of
' sense and imagination, and conveying the facts of every-day life.

2. N ORJ\IAN FRENCH .-From the time of the Conquest till
the days of Chaucer, a period of three hundred years, this
element played an important part in the formation of our
tongue. First introduced by royal authority as the language
of law, chivalry, and feudalism, and unwillingly received ·by
the masses, it finally found its way into their affections, and
was largely drawn upon for words in which the Saxon vocabulary was deficient. From this source it is estimated that at .
least five thousand words were added. Besides covering the
abstractions and generalities of every-day life, they often convey slight distinctions and delicate shades of thought. We
find them particularly useful, when we wish to express disapsome. What other terms h,n·e the same origin ? 'Vbat portion, then, of its syntax
and vocabul!lry docs En glish owe to Snxon?
Between what perio1ls did Normnn French plny an important part In the formation
of our tongue ? How was it first introclnced? In process of time, how was it received
by tho people? How mnny words have we tak en from this source? What do they
convey witb peculiar accuracy? When do we find them particularly useful? How Is
this explaino<l?

---54

ANALYSIS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

probation without wounding the feelings of another. The
natural courtesy of the Normans led to the creation of a fund
of words applicable to this purpose, for which the energetic
and too often rough expressions of the Saxons were totally unsuited.
3. MonERN FRENCH.-;-From this offspring of the ancient
Norman our authors have, at different periods, taken many
useful words; which, either with very slight changes in their
spelling or without any modification at all, have, after a time,
by common consent, become incorporated into the language.
A taste for French expressions as well as lfrench opinions has
from time to time prevailed in England, and of course led to
the introduction of many foreign terms from this source ;
whence, also, numerous additions have been made through the
medium of trade, many fabrics which owe their invention to
the artists of France having come into general use and retained their foreign names.
4. LATIN.-Under this head must be classed those clements which have come directly from the Latin, and not
through the medium of any other tongue. Between the two
classes it is not always easy to draw a dividing line, particularly in the case of the la.ter derivatives. The earliest additions from this source (if we except proper names and a few
military terms, introduced into the original vernacular of
Britain during the period of Roman supremacy, and thence
received and naturalized at a later date by the Saxons) were
ecclesiastical words, such as monk, saint, cloister, mass, and
the like, necessarily employed wherever the Church of Rome
carried its doctrines, institutions, and ritual. Next follow
the Latinisms introduced in the thirteenth century, at which
time a taste for classical studies began to revive in England
Whnt is said of the additions from modern French ? T!Jrough what medium
bnve they mostly bee n received?
Into what two classes are the L atin elements of our lnngnngo divided? Is It ensy
to disting uish between them? What additions were mntle from this source dnring the
periotl of llomnn suprcmncy? Wllnt Lntin terms wcro next lntrou ucctl ? Olvo examples. Whnt Lntinisms next followed? 'l'ownrds tho close of tho eighteenth ccn-

ANALYSIS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

55

as well as elsewhere. Thenceforth, as necessity required, occasional additions were made from the same source, especially
by theological and scientific writers ; until, towards the close
of the eighteenth century, Johnson and his imitators, having
coined largely from Latin roots and naturalized a variety of
classical idioms, succeeded in making their high-sounding defrvatives fashionable, at the expense of the less pretending
Saxon.
It has been questioned by those who compare the simplicity of Addison with the pompousness of Hume and Gibbon, whether this wholesale latinizing was any improvement to our language and literature; if,
however, it resulted in no other advantage, it has at least secured us an
array of synonymes (that is, words that have the same or a similar signification) unequalled by those of any other modern language.

5. 0ELTIC.-Ncxt in importance are the Celtic ·elements,
some of which were introduced into our language a'.t or shortly after the period of its first formation, while others have
been added in modern times, either by antiquarians or in consequence of intercourse with the W clsh and Irish. As examples of the latter, ma.y be mentioned the words tartan, plaid,
flann el, &c. The former class may be arranged under two
subdivisions : I. Those elements which came directly from the Celtic
itself; embracing a great number of geographical names,
such as Thanies, Kent, &c., as well as a variety of common nouns in every-day use, among which are bran,
darn,flaw, gruel, mop, tackle, &c.
IL Such as originated in the Celtic, yet were received into
English, not directly from that tongue, but through the
medium of Latin or Norman French, into which they
had previously found their way.
tury, what taste became fnshionnble? Row does tho style of Adclison compnro with
that of llume nnd Gibbon? Wbnt question has been raised with regard to this
wholesnlc Jatinizing? What great advnntngo !Ins resulted from it?
What clements arc next in Importance? When were · the Celtic additions Introduced? Whnt Is the first clnss into which the ancient elements are divided? Glvo
examples. Whnt, tho second? How have Celtic words found their way into English
In mouern times?

-

..,· •·

56

ANALYSIS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

6. GREEK.-To this language we are indeb ted largely for
scientific terms, but little or none for words of every-day life.
The elements thus derived are aU of recent addition. If we
except the words phen01nenon, criterion, aut01naton, and a
few others, they have all been introduced within the last hundred and fifty years. New discoveries of science having rendered an enlargement of our technical nomenclature necessary,
recourse was had to the Greek as affording the greatest advantages for this purpose. Hence our num erous words ending in logy and grapliy, and their derivatives.
7. l\:11scELLANEous ELE~IENTs.-Under this head fall the
few isolated words added from time to time, through the
medium of business, or as occasion has required, from Eastern
and North American dialects, or the modern tongues of Europe not before alluded to.
Dr. Latham, in bis " Handbook," p. 56, furnishes us with a variety
of examples:ITALIAN, virtuoso.
RussIAN, Czar.
TunK1sa, coffee, bashnw, scimitar.
ARABIC, admiral, assassin, alchemy, alcohol, and a variety of words
beginning with the Arabian article al.
PERSIAN, turban, caravan.
HINnoo, calico, chintz, curry, lac.
MALAY, bantam, gamboge, rattan, sago.
CIIINESE, nankeen, tea, and its varieties, bohea, byson, &c.
N. A:biERIOAN INDIAN, squaw, wigwam.

§ 31. From what has been stated, however, with regard
to the numerical proportion of the elements composing our
language, no correct idea can be formed respecting their relaWhat terms do we owe to the Greek lan gm1ge? When were they introduced?
Within lb is period, what hns called for nn enlargement of our scientific vocnbulnry?
What terminations in English lrnlicate Greek origin?
How have a variety of miscellaneous elements crept into our Jangun ge? Give
examples from the Italian; Russinu; Tarkish ; .Arabic · Persian· llindoo · Malay·
Chinese; North .American Indian dialects.
'
'
'
'
§ 31. From "l"l"hat has been staterl with regard to their nnmber, can n correct idea be
formed of tho relativo importance of the clements t.hat compose our Jan gaago ? Why

CHARACTERISTICS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

57

.tive importance. Some words, for instance, (and this is the
·case with many of our Saxon derivatives) are constantly re-curring, while the use of others is rare and limited to certain
styles or subjects. To determine what part of our language,
as commonly written, is really Saxon, various passages from
' ,the authorized version of the Scriptures, and from standard
-.writers of different eras have been analyzed. - The result, as
given in Turner's Anglo· Saxons, shows that when the words
were classified under the languages from which they were respectively derived, more than four fifths of the whole were
· found to be of Saxon origin. The individual passages compared were found to differ widely from each other as regards
.their proportion of foreign elements. The tr.anslators of the
Bible wrote by far the purest Saxon, only .,]~ of their words
being derived from other s,ources i of Swift's words, ~ are not
Saxon; of Milton's, i; of Shakspeare's, t; of Spenser's,
Addison's, and Thomson's, about } ; of Johnson's, ! ; of
Pope's and Hume's, ! ; of Gibbon's, much more than }.

LESSON X.
CHARACTERISTICS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

§ 32. Before proceeding to consider the different classes
of words, and the parts they respectively perform in a sentence, we may with advantage look at our language as a whole,
and observe its leading characteristics.
Derived, as we have seen, from so many different sourc~,
not? To arrive at n knowledge of this, what has been done? What proportion of all
the words employed is found to be of Snxon origin? Who are ascertained .to havo
written the purest Saxon? What proportion of th eir words ls derived from other
sources? Of Swift's words, what part Is not Saxon? of Milton's? Sqakspeare·s?
Spenser's? .Addison's, and Thomson's? Johnson's? Pope's and Hame's? Gibbon's?
§ 32. What follo"s from the fact that English has been derived from so many d!Jfer•

3*

\.

)

58

CUARACTEIUSTICS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

each of which bas contributed some of its own peculiar features, it naturally follows that English, like ·every other compounded language, ·is full of irregularities. \Ve must not expect entire consistency in its parts, or that complete analogy
of structure which is found in simpler tongues that have been
built on but one foundation. Our words, naturalized from
widely different dialects, "straggle," as Blair says, " asunder
from each other, and do not coalesce so naturally in the struc·
ture of a sentence as the words in the Greek and Roman
tongues." Our orthography is anomalous ; the same com bination of letters may be pronounced in half a dozen different
ways : * and our syntactical constructions arc so arbitrary that
it often perplexes the best grammarians to account for them.
We hav~ introduced foreign idioms and modes of uonstru"ction ; and our sentences too often look like patchwork, composed of divers pieces, handsome enough in themselves, but
of such different colors and qualities that the eye cannot help
being struck with the variety in passing from one to another.
Composite languages, however, have advantages as well as
drawbacks. The very variety alluded to above is preferable to
sameness, and often imparts vivacity to what might otherwise
seem monotonous and dull. Such tongues, moreover, are generally enriched with copious vocabularies; and particularly is this
true of English, whose abundance of historical, politicnJ, moral,
and philosophical terms, leaves little to be desired by the writer. Nor are we less amply provided with distinct and peculiar poetical terms. With us poetry differs from prose, not
only in having a certain arrangement of syllables and feet, but

* For example, ough in through, tlwugli, cough, tough, lough, liicc9ugh, ·plough.
cnt sour ces? What must wo not ex1iect? Wl1nt says Blnir rcspcctino- our words ?
Whnt is the character of our orthogmphy? Give nu c:rnmplo. ·what ~ said of our
sentences ?
·w11nt nclrnntngc, on tho other hand, do composito Jnngunges possess? ·with what
n:o such ton~u~~ generally enriched ? "With what kind of terms aro wo nmply provHled? In Eughsh, how docs poetry differ from prose? Wh oso wrllings provo this?

CHARACTERISTICS OF TUE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

.59

, in the very words that compose it; so much so that 'the wri;,~ings of Ossian, though they have neither rhyme nor metre,
nre classed by many among poems. In this respect we enjoy
a great advantage over the French, whose poetry, without
r~yme, would be hardly distinguishable from their prose ; and
with whom, as a consequence, blank verse is never attempted.
, 'For this richness we are indebted to the fact that our language,
originally made up from several others, has borrowed from
-them all; and thus has supplied from one what wa.s wanting
}n another, and even in some cases appropriated duplicate
· terms and expressions to denote the same thing. These are of
great use to the writer in every department of composition,
, enabling him to diversify his style and avoid unpleasant repe· ·,
titions.
§ 33. Every language is supposed to take, in a greater or
less degree, its predominant tone from the character of the
people that speak it. Though it cannot, of course, exactly
represent their customs, manners, powers of mind, and habits
of thought, yet it must necessarily be in some measure, if ever
so little, affected by their national characteristics. The
vivacity of the French, the thoughtfulness of the English, and
the gravity of the Spanish, are unmistakably impressed on
their respective tongues.
From the character of those by whom our language was originally
formed, and from whom it has received most of its subsequent additions
and modifications, we would expect to find it distinguished by "strength
and energy; and this is the case, notwithstanding the numerous small
particles and auxiliary verbs which we are constantly obliged to employ, with a decideuly weakening effect. Though our constructions are
by no means compact, and our thoughts are diluted with a superabundance of words, yet, in spite of these disadvantages, since it abounds in
What is snid of French in thi s respect? What kind of verse is, therefore, never attempted in that lnr1gnngc ? 'l'o whnt fact is English indebted for this rlcbne.'!S ? How
Is this quality of use to the writer?
§ 33. From what does every lan guage tnke its pretlominRnt tone? What is the
characterist ic of th e French and th eir tongue ? What of the English? What of the
Spanish? Judging from th e character of the formers of our language, by what would
we expect to I.inti English distin guished? Is this the caso? What words. however,

•.·

....

J,

'
60

CHARACTEIUSTICS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

terms adapted to the expression of the strongest emotions, rmd presents
superior facilities for forming compounds, and thereby briefly representing complex ideas, our lang uage is admitted by nil nations to be eminently nervous nnd energetic.

Flexibility, or susceptibility of accommodation to different styles and tastes, so as to be either grave or gay, forcible
or tender, simple or imposing, as occasion may require, is one
of the most important qualities that a language can possess, as
regards both writing and speaking. To ensure flexibility,
three characteristics are essential; copiousness, capacity for
changes of construction and arrangement, and strength and
beauty as regards individual words. The first two of these
qualities we have seen that English possesses in a high degree; in the last it is not deficient. "While, therefore, it is inferior in flexibility to Latin and Greek, and of modern languages perhaps to Italian, it is still capable of being used
with success in any style ; as must be apparent to all who examine the master-pieces which our literature has produced in
the various departments of prose and poetry.
It has been said above that our tongue is not deficient in
harmony; and this is proved by the fact that it is capable of
being formed into poetry without the aid of rhyme. Vowel
sounds abound, and please the ear with their variety. The
frequent recurrence of the hissing consonant s, however, has an
unpleasant effect, which we have only partially removed by
assigning to that letter, in certain positions, the sound of z;
as in is, these, ears, loves, resolves, &c. The melody of our
periods is also materially affected by our tendency to throw the
accent of polysyllables back towards the beginning; to which
tendency we are indebted for such awkward words as tempohave a decidedly weakening effect? What is said of our constructions? How are our
thoughta diluted? Notwithstanding this, what is the general character of our Ian- ,gm1ge? To what features does it owe this charact~r?
What is one of the most lm11ortant qualities a language cnn p osses.~? Enumerate
tbE1 cbnrncteri stics essential to flexibility. How does English rnnk ns regards these . "
three essentials ? How does it compnre in flexibility with Latin, Greek, and Italian t
What proves Its adaptation to all styles f
~

' .• J!

.I:

PARTS OF SPEECH.

61

rarily, mischievously, mercenariness, miserableness, and many
others similarly discordant.
f:i.., Whatever may be said of the English language in other
·respects, in simplicity it undoubtedly surpasses the rest of
·European tongues. It is free from intricacies of case, declen~ion, mood, and tense. Its words are subject to but few terminationat changes. Its substantives have no distinctions of
·gender except what nature has made. Its adjectives admit of
such changes only as are necessary to denote the degrees Of
comparison. Its verbs, instead of running through all the
\.arieties of anci~nt conjugation, suffer few changes. With
the help of prepositions and auxiliaries, all possible relations
~~e expressed, while the words for the most part retain their
·forms unchanged. vV e lose from this, no doubt, in brevity
· · and strength; but we gain vastly in simplicity. The arrange-- . ~ment of our words is, in consequence, less difficult, and our
•sentences are more readily understood. The rules of our syntax are exceedingly simple, and the acquisition of our language. is easy in proportion:

LESSON XI.
PARTS

OF

SPEECH.

§ 34. Having traced the history of our language, considered
the sources from which it is derived, and noted its chief
characteristics, we shall now proceed to treat of its words,

·' ·,1

, ~:.What proves that English Is not deficient in harmony? What consonant has an
anple88nnt sound? How have we attempted to remove the difficulty? What tendency
~. Ill accentuation interferes with the melody of periods? Mention some inharmonious
words thus accented. In what does English surpass nll other European tongues f What ftlatures are men• tloned; which conduce to its simplicity? How nre the different relations of nouns nnd
; ;rerbs expressed? In what respects do we lose in consequence of this? In what do
,:ye gain t .

- --·-----62

-· -·· ... .

-------

......

~-------

PARTS OF SPEECH.

viewed with reference to the respective parts they perform in a
sentence. A knowledge of grammar being presupposed in the
pupil, we shall here, by a btief summary, merely recall to his .
mind its leading principles, with such definitions and illustra·
tions only as are absolutely essential to the proper understanding of the succeeding lessons.
The classes into which words are divided with reference '
to their use and mutual relations, are called PARTS of SPEECH.
'l'hey are nine in number.

PARTS OF SPEECH.

·4.
'"'1>ADJECTIVE
I
PRONOUNS, or such as on some occasions take the place of

\ · substantives, and on others are used with them, like adjectives.
Under this heacl fall the words, this, tit.at, each, every, either, neitlter,
, , .fi"i no, none, any, all, such, some, both, other, another.
SI ;i

, , .;III. ARTICLES, or words placed before nouns to show
•Fwhether they are used in a particular or general sense. We
Jho.ve °two articles: the, called DEFINITE, because it defines or
. points out a particular object; and an or a, called INDEFI- .
tNITE.
:• IV. ADJECTIVES, or words which describe or limit
.substant.ives; as, "The five good emperors".
u. J. VERBS, or words that express an action or state; as,
/~ He is sure to succeed." That respecting which the action or
.state is primarily expressed is called the SunJECT of the verb;
thus, in the preceding example, he is the subject of the
llverb is.

I. NOUNS, or names of things. They are divided into
two classes: CoMMON N ouNs, or names that distinguish one
class of objects from another,-as, ?nan, city, river; and
PROPER N ouNs, or names that distinguish one individual of a
class from another,-as, Moses, Brooklyn, Rhine.
The term SunsTANTIVE is frequently used as synonymous with noun.
Besides noun~, it e~bra~e~ whatever may be used as such; that is, pronouns, verbs m the mfimt1ve, and clauses.

'r'"t
•
Verbs are clivicled into two classes: TRANSITIVE, or such as express
. an act done to an object; ancl INTRANSITIVE, or such as express a state, or
..an act not done to an object. '!James reads Latin"," James can read",
·,.James is asleep": in the first sentence the verb is transitive; in the
last two, intransitive.
. To "show the relation which the subject bears to the action expressed, transitive verbs have two distinct forms, called VornES. The Ac., TIVE VoICE represents the subject of the verb as acting; a~, "Cresar conquered Pompey." The PASSIVE VornE r epresents the subject of the verb
1
,as acted upon; as, cc Pompey was conquered by Cresar."
~ ·
• ' ~I A verb is saicl to be FINITE when it is limited by person and number.
This is the case in every part except the infinitive mood and the parti.. ciples.
·
By the REGIMEN of a verb or preposition is meant the substantive it
governs with all the limiting words belonging thereto; as, cc A good citi• !

II. PRONOUNS, or words ·that may be used
nouns.
They are comprised in the following classes:1. ~ERSONAL, or such as show by their form what person they are; that
rn, whether they r epresent the person speaking, the person spoken
to, ~r the object spoken of. The Personals are, I, thou, lte, she, it, and .
their compounds, rnyseif, thyself, himself, herself, itself.
2. RELATIVES, or such as r elate to a substantive going befor e, called an
Antecedent. The relatives are, who, which, and that. Wliat, what·
ever, whoever, ancl whichever, include the antecedent, and are called
compound relatives.
3. INTERROGATIVES, or such as are used to ask 'questions. 'l'h e interroga·
tives are, who, which, and what.
§ 34. What do we mean by parts of speech? How many-nre there? Whicli ls the
first? Wh at are nouns? Into what classes are th ey divided ? What nro common
nouns? 'Vh at are proper nouns? What term is often used ns synonymous with noun I
What else besides nouns are included under the general bead of subst:mtives?
. Wha.t is the secon~ ~art of speech ? What are pronouns? Enumerate the classes
rnto winch they are d1v1ded. Define the term personal pronomi. Mention the per·
son al~. What are relative pronouns ? Enumerate t hem. ·what are interrogatives t
Mcnt10n them. What is meant by adjective pronouns? Mention the principal ones.

l

':\I
'

I
f .\

63

·• What is the third part of speech? What are articles? Mention them, and give
their names.
'i' ifl'· What is the fourth part of speech? What are adjectives? Give an example.
t• ' What is the fifth part of speech? What arc verbs? What is meant by the subject
or a verb? Into bow many classes arc verbs divided? What are they? What are
,transitive verbs? Wh at, intransitive? Give exnmpl es. How many voices are there?
.What are they called? How does the active voice represent the subject of the verb?
; How doos th e passi ve represent it? When is a verb said to be tlnite? What ls meant
. : by the regimen of a verb or preposition? Give examples.
,

64

PA:i;tTS OF SPEECH.

zen obeys his country's laws." "The age of miracles is past."
pany of wicked and profligate men."

"A com-

To verbs belong
P ARTICIPLEs, or words which, partaking of the nature of
adjectives and verbs, describe a substantive by assigning to it
an action or a state. 'l'ransitive verbs have six participles,
three in the active, and three in the passive, voice; as, loving,
loved, having loved, and being loved, loved, having been
loved. Intransitive verbs, admitting of no passive voice, have
but three participles; as, walking, walked, having walked.
VI. ADVERBS, or words added to verbs, participles, adjectives, and other adverbs, to express time, place, degree,
comparison, manner, &c.; as, now, here, very, so, gracefully.
Adverbs of manner for the most part end with the letters ly.
This class of words must be carefully distinguished from adjec·
tives, which also express manner or quality, but are always
joined to substantives.
VII. CON'trUNCTIONS, used to connect words, &entences, and parts of sentences. The most common ones are,
and,
as,
for,
if,

or,
nor,
yet,
but,

either,
neither,
than,
that,

b ecause,
since,
though,
although,

except,
whether,
les1·.,
unless.

VIII. PREPOSITIONS, which show the relations between substantives and other words in a sentence_ The following list contains the principal :
about,
above,
across,
after,

I

II
i

I

behind,
below,
beneath,
besides,

during,
except,
for,
from,

out of,
past,
regarding,
respecting,

G5

PARTS OF SPEECH.

touching,
towards,
under,
undemeath,

What are participles? How many participles have transitive verbs? Ilow mnny
have Intransitives? Give examples of each.
What are adverbs? With what syllable do adv~rbs of manner generally crHl?
From what must ad verbs be carefully distinguished? What is the difference between
them?
Whnt are con,innctlons? Mention the most common ones.
Whnt nre prepositions? Enumerate the principal ones.

between,
betwixt,
beyond,
but,
by,
concerning,
down,

against,
along,
nmid,
among,
around,

I'

until, ·
unto,
up,
upon,
with,
within,
without.

in,
round,
into,
save,
notwithstanding, since,
through,
of,
off,
throughout,
on,
till,
over,
to,

IX. INTERJECTIONS, or words used to denote a sudden emotion of the mind ; as, ah ! alas ! 0 ! oh ! fie! hist !

f.

&o.

.\

. i

: ExAMPLE.- The following sentence contains all the parts of speech,
the words falling respectively under one of the above classes, as ~enoted
by the numbers placed over them:7

9

26

5

8

3

4

' ·~ ·I

.. l
, I

1

"But alas I he soon fell before the malignant tempter."

"' 1 ....

·I

~

35. Of these parts of speech, the noun, pronoun, and verb,
~lone are inflected ; that is, undergo changes in termination to
denote different cases, numbers, persons, &c.
§ 36. That we may determine to which of the above classes
a word belongs, we must examine the relations it sustains to
the rest of the sentence; and, as in different connections the
same word often performs very different offices, it follows that
in one sentence it may be one part of speech, and in another
another, according to its application. The same word often ap·
pears, as
I. Noun and verb. Example, HEAT. " The heat is great";
,' here being the name of something, it is a noun. " Heat the
, plat~"; in this case it expresses an action, and is therefore a
verb.
II. Adjective and noun. Example, DAMP. " A damp
cellar"; in this expression . it describes cellar, and is conse.. What are interjections? Give examples.
Give a sentence containing all the parts of speech, and m ention the class to which
the words r~sp cc ti vcly belong.
§ 35. Which of th cso parts of speech nre inflected? What is the menning of the
term to be inflected r
§ 36. How nre we to det.ermin o to which of these classes a word belongs? How
may tbe same word be used in difforcnt sentences? As what, for instance, does the
word heat nppear? Give examples, and stnto what part of speech ft Is in each. As
, what two parts of speech docs tho word damp appear? Give examples. To what

\.;

.. . ... '

'

\

·.'.

_'1. ' .'.
I.

I

!

I.

I

66

J

f. !

P Ait'.rS OF SPEECH.

SEN'.rENCES.

quently an adjective. · '' Misfortune casts a damp over
spirits" ; hero, being the name of something, it is a noun.
III. Adjective and verb. Example, DRY. "A dry
mate." cc D1:y your cloak."
IV. Adverb and conjunction. Example, AS. "As bright
as the sun." The first as, being joined to the adjective bright;f
to express comparison, is an adverb; the second as, connectingr:
parts of the sentence, is a conjunction.
i ;i.
V. Adverb and preposition. Example, UP. cc Look up.rn
cc Up the hill." When followed by a noun or pronoun as
object, it is a preposition; when not, an adverb.

§ 37. Difficulty is often experienced in parsing
that and but.
•ruAT, according to its use, may be a relative pronoun, an
adjective pronoun, or a conjunction. When who or which can'
be used in its place, it is a relative; cc He that (who) has
guilty conscience is not to be envied." When it points out a'
particular object, it is an adjective pronoun; " That fact can'·
not be doubted." When it connects parts of a sentence, it is.,.
a conjunction; " I hope that you may succeed."
,
BuT is employed as an adverb, a preposition, and a
conjunction. When only can be used in its stead, it is an adverb; "But (only) three were there." vVhen equivalent to
except, it is a preposition; " No one but (except) Napoleon
could have conceived such an idea." In other cases it is a
conjunction ; " Cmsar was great intellectually, bitt not mor:
ally."

a
~

clnsses does d·r y belong? Glvo exam ples. As whnt two pnrts of speech docs ttp np·
pear? Under what circumstances is it n preposition, and under what nn adverb? ·
§ 37. As what three parts of speech does the word that appear? How can we de·
termine which it is ? Give examples. As what is tlie word but employell? How can
we determine whnt part of spctlch it is?

67

OltAL EXERCISE.
'l{:"· Mention

what part of speech each of the following words
is~ ·and how you know it to be so.
. · ~it 1. ·_A violent storm at sea is often succeeded by a calm. 2. Calm
. your agitated mind. 3. How calm, how beautiful, comes on the still
· hour when storms are gone l 4. With dulcet songs the mothers still
~ their babes.
5. -The still of midnight is at hand. 6. Still water runs
deep. 7. .A still is a vessel used in the distillation of liquors. 8. Still
' ·one was absent. 9. My cheeks no longer did their color boast. 10.
Fie! color not a glaring falsehood with feigned and specious excuses.
11: A little mind often dwells in a great body. 12. Little did the French
Emperor anticipate the overthrow that awaited him in Russia. 13.
){an wants but little h ere b elow, nor wants that little long. 14. The
Dutch till their fields with such care that the whole of Holland resembles a highly cultivated garden. 15. Occupy till I come. 16. It is no
worse to rob a man's till than to despoil him of his fair reputation by
, epreading slanderous r eports. 17. The Arctic ad venturers were imbedded in ice till the ensuing spring. 18. Past twelve o'clock, and yet the
hermit sighs. 19. While the body was still hanging on the gallows, the
qu.een and her train rode gaily past. 20. Past time never returns. 21.
. Spirit of the Past l look not so mournfully at me with thy great tearful
· eyes. 22. For me, for all, Death comes alike. 23. Men are never so
· · ridiculous for the qualities they have as for those they affect to have.
S4' 'Fenelon, h earing that his library was on fire, exclaimed, "Ahl God
be praised that it is not some poor man's dwelling l " 25. No man should
thhik eo highly of himself as to imagine he can receive but little light
A-om books, nor so meanly as to believe he can discover nothing but
· ]rh~t ia to be learned from them.
I

LESSON XII.
SENTENCES.

§ 38. ALL language consists of sentences.
·~·, A sentence is such an assemblage of words as makes com-

plete sense ; as, cc Truth is eternal."
1
' § 39. E
.
j very sentence
consists
o f two parts, subject and
· ·;·-.
.predicate.
, The subject is that respecting which something is affirmed,
."<i. '

{t

I 88.
I 89.

Of what does all lnngunge consist? Wh nt Is a sentence ?
Into what is every sentence divisible? What is meant by the subject? What,

SENTENCES.

68

SENTENCES.

asked, or exclaimed, or to which a command, an exhortation, or
an entreaty is addressed. In the above example, truth is the ··
subject.
·
'
The predicate is that which is affirmed, asked, or ~xclaimed, '
respecting the subject ; or the command, exhortation, or en;··
treaty addressed to it. In the above example, the words is '
eternal constitute the predicate.

·<T,··

69

§ 41. Some sentences are susceptible of division into two

9! more

leading parts, entirely independent of each other in
. construction and having distinct subjects and predicates.
_~~~ch. parts are called Members. The following sentence con·
B!~ts of two members : " A friend exaggerates a man~s vir- tµ7s ; an enemy magnifies his crimes."
.;,i
• ~ · 1 § 42. Sentences may contain adJ"uncts phrases and clauses
,.,. -;..• ·
'
'
.
· t :· ~' An Adjunct consists of a preposition and its regimen· as
The subject of a sentence may be ascertained by putting who or what
1
4';/Ihe appearance of evil"; " The blessings of a kind G~d 11 :
b efore the leading yerb. The answer to the question thus formed will '
-~~ A Phrase is a combination of words which separately have
be the subject, and the r est of the sentence the predicate. Thus :" Truth is eternal." lVhat i!> eternal ? .Answer, truth. Truth is there-.,
. ~~connection, either in construction or sense, with other words
fore the subject, and is eternal the predicate.
..:
1-~~1 thc. sentence, but which, when taken together, convey a
In imperative sentences, that is, such as express a command, an ex- '
,' ~!ngle idea and may be construed as a single word. In short,
hortation, an entreaty, or permission, the subject is often understood; ~ "
', tn a word, on the contrary, are phrases.
as," Look not upon the wine when it is red." Thoit understood is the l
~<· A Clause is a combination of words for the most part insubject; all the words expressed constitute the predicate.
·,
.
dependent
in construction of other words in the sentence and
§ 40. There are two kinds of subjects, grammatical and~
.. by1themselves incomplete in sense, generally introduced for
logical.
;.f
~h~ purpose of asserting some additional circumstance respectThe grammatical subject is the name of the person or'.t.
l"O ·g the leading proposition.
.
thing respecting which the affirmation is made, the question·'
asked, &c., (see § 39) without any limiting terms. It usuall/
;~ ',§ 43. The clauses in most common use are eight in numconsists of but one word, and is nominative to the leadinglij~! i ·viz., Relative, Participial, Adverbial, Vocative, Adjecverb in the sentence.
r.
, t.ive, Appositional, Causal, and Hypothetical.
..
The logical subject consists of the name of the person or
Relative Clause is one that contains a relative pr,onoun 1·
thing respecting which the affirmation is made, the question
'¥ 1 " He who lives to nature rarely can be poor." • .'. ... .
asked, &c., together with all the words that limit or de·
"~ .A - Participial Clause is one that contains a participle;
scribe it.
~i:j.': wakened by the morning sun, the birds carol their
'
"The worst kind of lie is a half truth." Kind is the grammatical '
_IOngs of gratitude."
subject; the worst kind of lie is the logical subject; is a half truth is the
- ;;~n Adverbial Clause is one that performs the office of an
predicate.
_
~verb, generally expressing time, place, or manner ; as,
When there are no limiting words, the logical subject corresponds
1
.1'~~;,;e. is a pleasure in the pathless woods."
with the grammatical. Thus in the sentence, " Truth is eternal," truth
11'

•

;'iA
f

ij ·

is both the grammatical and the logical subject.

·

by the predicate? How may the subject of a ~entence be ascertained?
of the subject of imperative sentences? Give an example.
•.
§ 40. How many kinds of subjects are there ? What are they callecl? What is the
grammatical subj ect? Of how many words does it generally consist? What is tho
logical subj ect. Give nn example of the two kinds of subjects? In what case doel
the logical subject correspond with the grammatical?
.

Form a sentence containing _

.
;
.
G ivo an example._ ,What
Deline each in turn, and give an

70

8EN'l'ENCES.

SENTENCES.

A Vocative Clause is one that contains the
object addressed; as, "Go to the ant, thou sluggard I"
An Adjective Clause is one that contains an adjective!
as, " Firm, in his attachnients, Lafayette never forgot a
friend."
i·
An Appositional Clause is one that contains a noun or
pronoun in apposition with some other substantive, that is,
which refers to the same object and is similarly construed;
as, " Down they go, the brave young riders." Riders, r~·
ferring to the same persons and being in the same constru~.
tion as they, is in apposition with it.
A Causal Clause is one that indicates the motive wi~
which, or the end for which, an action is done; as, " To pe1je4
his editcation, he went to France."
A Hypothetical Clause is one that embodies a supposition.
as, " 1J thou hadst been here, my brother had not died." ;
§ 44. These clauses, when used by themselves, do no&
make complete sense, as will be seen by making the trial !ii
the sentences given above as examples. They are therefo!
called Dependent Clauses.
The leading clauses on which they depend, make sense b'
themselves, and are therefore called Independent Claus
Thus, in the sentence, " To perfect his education, he went ·
France'.'; to pe1fect his education is a dependent, lw went
France an independent, clause.
§ 45. As r egards their signification, sentences are divid
into four classes; viz., Declarative, Interrogative, Imperativ
1
and Exclamatory.
A Declarative Sentence is one that declares
as, " It rains."
I

Declarative sentences constitute the greater part of written
guage.

Sentence is one that asks a question ;
• Interrogative sentences are generally introduced by .the interroga·

tiYe p,ronouns, who, which, or what ; or, by the auxiliaries, do, am, have,

,alall, ·may, &c. ; as, " Who is there W" ·~ What is truth W" " Am I
.i.ightf'. ," May we go?"
.A.n Imperative Sentence is one that expresses a command, an exhortation, an entreaty, or permission; as, " Let

, lhain."
, Imperative sentences are generally introduced by a verb in the imperative mood, let being often used for that purpose; as, " Go in peace; "
!! Let him arise."
AB already remarked, the subject of an imperative sentence is often
aae'rstood; thus, in the above sentences, thou understood is the subject.

.,,,·

I'
.,

§ 44. Wh at general name is given to these clauses? Why? What is meant by
incl ependcnt clause ? In the sentence, "To perfect his education, he went to Fran
·f'(
select the dependent nnd the indepenrlent clause.
§ 45. As regards their signification, how are sentences divided? What is a declar
sentence? Give an examplo. What is nu interrogative sentence? Give an exam

71

~

Exclamatory Sentence is one that exclaims something;
.

u · ." 'How it rains I "
4

'l:
~e adverb

how and the

I

ad~ective

:tl9dfce exclamatory sentences ;

•I'" 1• What a b ereavement I "

pronoun what are often used to inas, " How dead the vegetable kingdom

. It iii' a nice point, in the case of some sentences introduced by or contaloing the word what, to determine whether they are exclamatory or
gative; as, "Unhapp;r man that I am, what have I done l" In
ice.sea, judge from the context whether an answer is expected : if so,
e aen~e~ce is interrogative; if not, exclamatory.

(See
have two or more mem-

are Interrogative sentences generally Introduced? What Is nn Imperative senGive an exnmplo. How nre Imperative sentences generally Introduced? What
b la often nsed for this purpose? Wh at Is said of the subject of these sentences ?
la an exclamatory sentence? Give an example. With what words are exry sentences often introduccu? With what are they sometim es liable to be
unded? What is the rule for deciding when a sentence is exclamatory anil when
tlve?
,f 48.' Al! regards their construction, how nre sentences divided? What are simple
oes? What aro compound sentences? What m ay a simple sentence contain?

t

I
~

72

SENTENCES.

ANALYSIS OF SENTENCES.

.A sentence may be simple, and yet contain any of the nbove dependent clauses. It may have two grammatical subjects connected by 11
conjunction, or a compound predicate, and yet be a simple sentence; as,,
"Humility and modesty are cardinal virtues, and cannot be too much
cultivated." .A compound sentence must have two members wholly
independent of each other in construction, each having its own subject
and predicate. .A ·slight change in the above example will make it a ·
compound sentence, the difference between the two consisting not in
meaning, but simply in form; thus, "Humility and modesty are cardi·
nal virtues; they can not be too much cultivated."

How fast the flitting figures come I
The ~ild, th~ fierce, the stony face ;
Some bright with thoughtless smiles, and some
. Where secret tears have left their trace.
They pass, to toil, to strife, to rest·
To halls in which the feast is sp;.ead;
1~
To chambers where the funeral guest
i:tnB : ; · In silence sits beside the dead.

•

• ', .:·:· .And some to happy homes repair,
·
•,
. ~Yhei·e · cbildrcn, pr<(ssing cheek to check,
l'H'l ·1 · With mute caresses shall declare
The tenderness they cannot speak.
.And some, who walk in calmness here ·
Shall shudder as they reach the dodr,
Where one who made their dwelling dear
Its flower, its light, is seen no more.
'

OR.AL EXERCISE.

PornT out the sentences which compose the following ex·
tract, and state with regard to each, whether it is declarative,
interrogative, imperative, or exclamatory; also, whether ·sim-:
ple or compound. If simple, state what is the subject ~both
grammatical and logical), and what the predicate. Analyz~
1
the compound sentences into their members, and state the
subject and predicate of each.
Point out and name any of the above clauses. that ma
occur, and mention the leading clause on which each depends.

.

.

ExAMPLE.-The first stanza given below constitutes a simple impera•
tive sentence. The first line is an inde-pendent clause, inasmuch as ii.
makes seDRe by itself. Th e second line is a participial clause, since i
contains the participle filled. The last two lines constitute an advcr~
ial clause, in which is embraced the relative clause that beat the murmuring walks like autumn rain. Thou understood, being nominativo to.
the leading verb let, is the grn.mmatical subject; and the logical also, in
asmuch as there are no limiting terms. The whole stanza, na it stands,
is the predicate.
THE CROWDED STREET.

Youth, with pale cheek and slender frame
.And dreams of_greatness in thine eye, '
.Goest thou to bmld an early name,
Or early in the task to die 'l

Filled with an ever-shifLi11g train,
.Amid the sound of steps that b eat
The murmuring walks like autumn ram.
.J .

What must a compound scnteuce contain? Give nn example of a simple sentence, 11114
show how, by a slight change, It may bo converted Into a compound ono.

·,

Keen son of trade, with eager brow,
Who is now fluttering in thy snare 1
Thy golden fortuucs-Luwcr they How,
Or melt the glittering spires in air 'l

rrrw ...Who of this crowd to-night shall tread
'·
The dance till daylight gleams again 1
v"' . Who sorrow o'er the untimely dead 'l
Who writhe in throes of mortal pain W
Some, famine-struck, shall think how long
The cold, dark hours, how slow the light;
(I' . .And som~, w~o flaunt amid the throng,
..
Shall hide m dens of shame to-night.

,f,t'r'

- . Each where his tasks or pleasures call
'' •I I·· ' Th ey pass, and heed each other not..'
1
h : There is who h eeds, who holds them all
In His large love and boundless thought.

LET me move slowly through the street,

73

These struggling tides of life that·seem
In wa.;vward, aimless course to tend,
.Are eddies of the mighty stream
That rolls to its appointed end. ·

4

I
t

74

CAPI'l' AL

CAPITAL LETTERS.

LE'l'TEilS.

75

. § 51. When the title is employed without the proper name, if used
pi addressing a person, commence it with a capital; if not, in which

LESSON XIII.
CAPITAL LETTERS.

§ 47. Letters are divided into two classes, known as Small
Letters (a, b, .al 1

L)

and Capitals (A, B,

~\, ~).

f

'l'hc for· ··

mer constitute the great bulk of all kinds of printed or writ- .
ten matter. Capitals, however, arc employed in certain cases ·
at the com~ e ncement of words, for the purpose of attracting
special attention.
It was formerly the custom, both in writing and printing, :
to begin every noun with a capital, and such is still the prac- i
tice in the German language. This custom, however, conducing to no useful end, has very properly been laid aside; •
and at the present day the use of capitals is confined to such ;
cases as fall under the following rules.

!l

lI \~
I, l

t/'

I (

RULES FOR THE USE OF CAPITAL LETTERS.

§ 48. RuLE !.-Begin with a capital the first word of every ;,
sentence.
§ 49. RuLE IL-Begin Tiith capitals all proper nouns, :
and titles of office, honor, and respect; as, Bame, Myrtle \'
Avenue, Mr. Chairman, Dr. Franklin, Gen. Wash1;ngton,
dear Sir.
§ 50. Under this head fall adjectives, as w ell ns common nouns, when '

caso it will lie preceded by the articie the, commence it with a small
letter. Thus: "0 J{ing, live forever I"-" The king soon after resigned
his 'crown." When used without reference to a particular individual,
IUCh titles become common nouns and must commence with small let,ters; as, "A king is no better than his stibjects."
... § 52. The san1e p rinciple applies to the words mountain, river, gulf,
~ d;c. , When joined to proper nouns, either with or without a preposition
,between, they must begin with cnpit!1ls; as, the Rocky Mountains, tlie
.Mississippi Rive1·, Hudson's Bay, the G-ulf of Guinea, the Cape of Good
flope, the Isle of .Man. When used by themselves, though with refer.ence to particular objects, they must commence with small letters; as,
·
"These mountains are covered with snow."
" § 53. 'Ihe words North, East, South, and West, and their compounds
, Worth-east, &c., when nouns, r eferring to certain districts of country or
~e people that inhabit them, begin w ith capitals; when nouns, referring to a point of the compass, and generally when adjectives, they
,O?mmence with small letters. Thus: "Th e Soitth generally opposed
.the bill."- " The wind is from the south."-" Florida is south-west of New
:York.".
. • § 54. Heaven, used in the singular and signifying the abode of the
· bleat, must commence with a capital; as,. "Let H eaven be your goal."
In the plural, it signifies the sky and begins with a small letter; as,
'1Tlie heavens were overcnst."
§ 55. The names of the months and the days of the weeks must commence with capitals; those of the seasons, with small letters; as, May,
. ·B_unday, 8'1tmmer.

§ 56. RuLE III.-Begiu with capitals all adjectives
formed from proper nouns ; as, Roman, Spanish, . Eliza~ ·
/Jethan.

, ~·

joined to proper nouns for the purpose of expressing a title; ns, Alex- '
ancler the Great, Charles the Bald, King William, Good Queen Bess.
:

'•

!

••

I
I

!

* "NoTK .-Hcrcnflc r, wh en nn ex-nmpte is given in illustrn.li on or R dofiuiti on or rul e, th o sl111font is re·
qu ested to repeat it without its being req uired by n. special quest ion.
J

§ 51. What rulo applies to tho title when used without the proper name? When
11Sed without reference to a particular indi vidual, what do such titles become, and bow
mnat they commence ?
i § 52. To whnt words does this same principle apply?
. § 53. State tho rule that applies to the words North, East, South, West, and their
compounds.
1 § 54. Il'.ow must tho word Heaven commence? In the plural number, wbnt docs
It signify, and bow must It commence?
:- § 66. How mu;t the names of the months, the dnys of the week~, and the seasons,
commence?
§ 56. Repent Rule III. TI bat is said of the usage of the French language on
this point?

76

I

rI
I

.I
I

CAPITAL

77,

CAPITAL LETTERS.:

LETTERS.

,..
~§

In this respect the usage of the French langnnge differs from ours.
§ 57. Under this head fall adjectives denoting a sect or religion~
whether formed from proper nouns or not; ns, Catholic, Protcstantj.
Univcrsalist.
§ 58. A few adjectives derived from proper nouns, used merely t-0.' .
express a quality, without reference to the names from whieh they ar~ ,
derived, begin with small letters. Thus, stentorian, though derived
from Stentor, a fabulous personage noted for the strength of his lungs,
is now used as simply synonymous with loud and does not commence
with a capital The word heavenly is another case in point. Whe£·
used in the sense of very great, more than earthly, it must begin with
small letter; an initial capital is proper only when it means, literally;
pertaining to !leaven. '\Ve speak of the "heavenly beauty of a land• ~
scape"; but, "the Heavenly rest in store for believers".

62. RuLE VI.-Begin with capitals an · appellatians of

~~ Deity, and the personal pronouns he and thou when stand-

•m.~- for His name.
v Under this head are embraced adjectives which form part of the
titles· applied to the Deity; as, "the Eternal One", "the Supreme
~ing".
.
.
~ · § 63. It must be observed that several of the divine appellations are
also used as common nouns, and in that case, of course, commence with
.1nall .letters. This principle is illustrated in the following sentences by
t1ie1 use of the words god and providence : "The gods of the heathen
&w· before our God."-" Trust in Providence."-" The providence [fore~eing care] of God directs every event."
·

a

~

'

§ 64. RuLE VIL-Begin with a capital the first word of a

· ·" dir~ct quotation; that is, one that forms a complete sentence

§ 59. RuLE IV.-Begin with capitals common nouns

when spoken to, or spoken of, in a direct and lively manner;' .i.,~~~i.it~~lf and is not connected with what prec~des by the
as persons.

. -conju-nction
that; as," Remember the old maxim: 'Honesty
.' fl i'
..
. lS 'tho best policy.'"
·
•

In these cases, usnge is by no means uniform. In the inferior kindB
of personification, for instance where sex merely is attributed to inanimate objects, a small letter must be used; as, " The sun sheds his bearni .
upon the earth." A capital is proper only in the ~10re vivid and glow-·
ing personificati,ons.
· ·
f.
1
§ 60. RuLE V.-Begin with a capital the first word of~

every line of poetry ; as,
"Swans sing before they die; 'twcre no bad thing,
Should certain persons die before they sing."

§ 61. The only exception to t.his rule is in the case of humoro~
poetry, when a word is divided at the end of a line, and a p ortion of
it is carried t~ the beginning of the next verse: in 1J1is cnso the syllai
bles thus earned over must not commence with a capital. As,
"Pyrrhus, you tempt a danger high,
When you would steal from angry lioness her cubs."
· § 57. To what other adjectives does this rule apply?
§ 58. State the rule applicable to n few nclj cctivcs ilerivcd f)·om proper name(!, but _
now used merely to express n quality. Illustrate this priuclplc in tho cnso of tho worda
'tento1·ian nnd heavenly. ,
§ 59. Revent Rule IV. 1u what cases is it not applicable?
§ 60. Repent Rule V.
§ 61. What Is the only exception to this rule?

~-11

.l

·

·,., In such ' a sentence ns this, "He hns come ,to the conclusion that
•~onesty is the best policy''', it would be wrong to commence honesty
~i°! a capital, because the quotation is introduced by that. ·
·
l)r •

.

.

,;-§ 65. RuLE VIII.-Begin with a capital every noun, ad-

dective, and verb, in the titles of books and headings of chap·te!~; as," Hervey's 'Meditations among the Tombs '".
~!!< In. advertisements, handbills, &e., it is customary to begin with
• capitals the names of the principal objects, to which it is desired to
: Clraw attention.
·
•
.
·
1

· .hV§ 66. RuLE IX.__:_Begin with capitals words that are the
leii:d~ng

subjects of chapters, articles, or paragraphs.

~~us, when a word is being defined, it is proper to commence it with

9R~~pital;

as in § 42.
Oi()LThis rule leaves much to the judgn;ient of the writer.

It is not well

_ § 62. Repeat Rule VI. What adjectives fall under this rule?
· - ' § 63. How nre several of the divine appellations nlso used? In this case, how must
J.fibey commenco? Illustrnto tliis principle.
· ·
• · § 64. Repent Rule VII. If the quotation is iutrodnced by tha~ how must it com·
finence?
, § 65. Repeat Rulo VIII. What Is the custom in advertisements, hand-bills, &o.? .
' § 66. Repent Rule IX. What is said nbout interpreting this rule too liberally?
.
.
.
'Wheri there ls doubt, what is tho safest course?

· ·'

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78

CAPITAL

J,ETTEHB.

EXEHCISE ON CAPIT ALB.

to interpret it too liberally, as has been done by some transcendentalists
and imitators of German philosophers, who speak of the JJ[e and thq
Not JJ[e, Entity, the Good, the Beautiful, and the like, checkering the ·
page with plentiful capitals as if it were a turgid advertisement. Thia
is bad taste. ·wherever there is any reasonable doubt, use a small.
letter.

§ 67. ltuLE X.-Tho pronoun I, and the interjection
must always be written with capitals.
§ 68. Observe the difference between the interjections 0 and
The former is used only before the names of objects addressed or invok:
cd, is not immediately followed by an exclamation-point (!) and must
always be a · capital; the latter is used by itself to denote different
emotions of the mind, has an exclamation-point after it/and begins with
a small letter, except at the commencement of a sentence.

§ 69. RuLE XL-Begin with capitals words denoting well·t
known events, historical eras, noted written instruments, extra·
l
ordinary physical phenomena, and the like i as, the America1'
Revol1ttion, the JJIJ.iddle Ages, the 111J.agna Charta, tho Gulp
Strearn, the Aurora Borealis.
The object of beginning such words with capitalB is to enable the r eader
to distinguish at once between the individual objects they represent and
common nouns of the same form and appearance. This must be done in
all cases where there is liability of confusion. Thus in the sentence,
"Then cometh the Judgment", if we mean the Day of Judgment,judg·
ment ·must begin with a ca1)ital, or the writer's meaning may be misunderstood.

§ 70. Use a small letter in all cases where one of

thes~

eleven rules does not apply. When in doubt, use a small
letter.
§ 71. In printed matter, a style of character formed like
capitals, but smaller, is employed for running titles, captions
of chapters and paragraphs (see § 212), &c. ; as, A, B, c. These
are known as SMALL CAPITALS.

LESSON XIV
EXERCISE

ON

CAPITALS.*

In the following sentences, apply the rules given in the preceding lesson. Where a capital is improperly used, substi, tute a small letter.
UNDER § 48. act well thy Part.
avoid the appearance of Evil.
watch and Pray. labor Conquers all Things. what a heart-rending
Scene I has honor left the world? thou art mortal. truth Is mighty.
1':whither can I fly? what a disappointment!
·
UNDER § 49. charles martel defeated the saracens. what has become
of the mohegans, the pequots, the iroquois, the mohawks, and the hun~· dred other powerful tribes that lived east (see§ 53) of the mississippi .
when our fathers landed at plymouth and jamestown? iceland belongs
•·to denmark. sir william h erschel was born in 1738, at hanover, in
germany.
·
• :UNDER § 50. edward the elder succeeded his father, alfred the great,
on the throne of england. john lackland usurped the crown of his
Brother, richard The lion-h earted, during the absence of the latter in
... the holy land.
~ •., UNDER § 51, 52. great kiug, forgive me. the king hastily took horse
· and fled to london. An emperor, after all, is but a man. dukes, earls,
: counts, and Knights, flocked to the crusades (see § 69). The amazon is
.~he largest River in the ·world. mountains and oceans shall waste
away. The pyrenees form the Boundary between france and Spain.
. ·These Mountains arc infested by daring Banditti.
·~·· UNDER § 53, 54, 55. as far as the east is from the west, as far as
heaven is from Earth, so far is Vice from Virtue, Truth from Falsehood.
our winter consists of thr ee months, december,january, and february. The
senator has spoken for the west; let him understand that the west is
1 capable of speaking for itself. an east wind often brings a Storm. Last
tuesday the wind was north-west.
'
J. UNDER§ 56, 57. m?st of tho french p eas.ants belong to th~ roman cath• olic church. The r eign of queen anne 1s generally adnntted to have
been the augustan age of engl ish literature. in civilization and Refinement, christian lands for surpass mohammedan and pagan countries.
~r:· UNDER§ 58. The north-american indians endure the tortures of their
.•
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TEACIIER.-Tbe portions of this book headed EXERCISE can be either
recltoil orally or written out, ns the teacher may prefer. The latter i;i~hod, however,
In the author's opiuion, is nttPncJ ed with great advantages over the former, which will
'. : tilorEi than m ake up for the nclclillonal ti on e it may consume. When required to write
k ihese tasks, the student is not only likely to receive a much morn durable impression
or the principles illustrnted, but is nt th e snme time exercised in orthography and pen'· manship, and forms, from the close observation of words thus required, an invaluable
• habit of precision.
:-: •NOTE TO THE

§ 67. Repeat Rule X.
§ GB. What int&jections must not be confounded?
respect to 0 r What, respecting oh T
§ 69. Repent Rule XI. What is gained by following this rule?
cation in the sentence "'I'hen cometh the Judgment."
§ 70. When none of these rules apply, what must be use<l 1
§ 71. In printed matter, what style of character is used for running titles, &c.?

•

80

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EXERCISE ON CArl'l'ALS.

Enemies with Stoical fortitude. beau brummcll's tastes were decidedly ·
epicurean. a Platonic attachment subsisted between petrarch nn<l lnura.
A long face and puritanical demeanor are no proofo of n man's piety.
diesbach discovered the process of making Prussian blue.
UNDER§ 59, 60. Fiercely grim war unfolds his flag.
The moon
·
infuse no warmth into her rays.
honor, thou blood-stained god (§ 63) I at whose red nltnr
sit war and homicide, oh (§ 68) to whnt madness
will insult drive thy votaries.
humility herself, divinely mild,
sublime religion's meek and modest child.
peace, thy olive wand extend,
and bid wild war his ravage end,
man with brother man to meet,
nnd as a brother kindly Greet.
UNDER§

PART II.
PUNOTU ATION.

61.

Iler cheeks were rosy, and so was her nose;
And her hat
Was of satin, and dirty at thnt.
UNDER §

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LESS ON XV.

62, 63. how comprehensive is the providence of god; he

order~ all things for his C~eatures' Good. those .who trust in providence

0

PRINCJPLES OF THE ART.

1

He will not desert. ommpotent creator, all-wise, eternal being, thou
keepest us from day to day I In the latter days the comforter shall
come.
UNDER § 64. What sound advice is conveyed in Bion's Maxim:
"know Thyself." If" a tree is known by its Fruit", as our saviour said
what must we think of uncharitable chnstians?
'
UNDER § 65. Burke's "philosophical inquiry into the origin
id eas o~ th.e sublime anc~, beautiful", and al1son's "essays on the nature
an~ prrnc1ples of ~aste , are st~1Hlrtrd .text-~ook~ on the suqjcets of
wlueh they respectively treat. s1smondi's "lustoncnl view of the literature of the south of europe" is a work w ell worthy of careful study.
UNDER § 67, 68. i banished-i, a roman senator I beware, o treacherous people I i have reasoned, i have threatened, i have prayed; and
yet thou art not moved, o hard-hearted man. oh for a lo<l"'e
in some .
0
- ,
vast wilderness I whith er, oh whither can i go?
UNDER§ 69. the wars of the roses desolated england b etween the .
years 14~5 and 1485. the invincible armada, fitted out by the span- 1
iards agams~ england was the largest naval armament that europe ever
saw. th e flight of mohammed from mecca, known in history as the
hegira, took place 622 A. n., and is the era from which the ::irab ia11s and
pe~·sians sti.ll eom_rute th eir time. t.11 e normnn conq11 eRt wns the means
of mtroducrng eluvalry and the feudal system into Englnnd.

§ 72. PuNcTUATION is the art of dividing written language
by points, in order that the relations of words and clauses may
be plainly seen, and their meaning be readily understood.

E

In spoken language, these relations are sufficiently indicated by the
· pauses and inflections of the voice; but as written language has no such
·aids, it is necessary to supply the deficiency with arbitrary marks.
1
· ,: ' .

out marks or divisions of any kind. Points are said to have
B. c., by Aristophanes, a gramma.. rian of Alexandria, but did not come , into general use for
·several centuries. The modern system of punctuation was invented by Manutius, a learned printer who flourished in
Venice at the commencement of the sixteenth century. To
him we are indebted for developing the lea?ing "principles of

~ .been first used about 200
1

'.·

§ 73. The ancients originally wrote th~ir ~anus~ripts with-

.,

1

§ 72. Whnt is Punctuation? Ilow nro the relations of words and clauses Indicated
,
In spoken langunge?
§ 73. How llitl tho ancients writo their mnnu,eripts? When and by whom were
points invented? Uow long before th ey came into general use? By whom was tho
modern system devised? When and where did the Inventor live?

)

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82

PRINCIPLES OF THE ART.

PRINCIPLES OF 'l'HE ART.

the art, though in some of their details they have since that
time und ergone considerable modification.
§ 7 4. Punctuation does not generally receive in educational
institutions the attention its importance demands; and hence,
in the case of otherwise well-informed persons, there is too
often a lack of accurate and practical information on this subject. Even those who have made literary pursuits a profession, have regarded this important art as altogether beneath
their notice, and leave their manuscripts to be supplied with
points entirely at the discretion of the printer. As th cn:i is
no man at whose hands business or friendship does not require
an occasional letter, so there is uone that ought not to be able,
by a proper use of points, to make his mean ing intelligible ;
particularly since the art is simple in itself, is founded on the
principles of grammar, and often admirably illustrates the
latter science.
§ 75. Punctuation not only serves to make an author's
meaning plain, but often saves it from being entirely misconceived. There are many cases in which a change of points
completely al~ers the sentiment.
An English statesman once took advantage of this fact, to free himself from an embarrassing position. Having ch arged an officer of government with dishonesty, h e was required by Parliament, under a h eavy
penalty, publicly to retract the accusation in the House of Commons.
At the appointed time he appeared with a written recantation, which
he read aloud al:! follows : " I said he was dish onest, it is true ; and I
am sorry for it." This was satisfactory; but what was the surprise of
Parliament, the following day, to see the r etraction printed in the
papers thus: "I said he. was dishonest; it is true, and I · am sony for
it I" By a simple transposition of the comma and semicolon, the ingenious slanderer r epresented himself to the country, not only as having
made no recantation, but even as having reiterated th e charge in the
v ery face of Parliament.

§ 76. ·It is frequently objected to the study of Punctua§ 14. Whnt is snid of the genernl negl ect of punctuation? Why ought n knowledge
of the art to be possessed by nil?
§ 75. What does punctuation often prevent? How may n complete change of sentiment frequently be made? Repeat au anecdote illustrative of this fact.

r

83

<tion ·that good miage differs widely in this respect, and it is
therefore impossible to lay down any fixed rules on the sub. ·'Ject. To a certain extent it is true that usage differs. Pu~c­
:tuation is an art in which there is great room for the exercise
· •of· taste · and tastes will be found to vary in this, as well as in
'
..
every thing else. Y ct it is equally true that, as an art, it is
founded on certain great and definite principles j ·and that,
.while considerable latitude is allowed in the application of
'these, whatever directly violates them is 1"rong and inadmis. sible. As well might it be argued that the study of rhetoric
.is unnecessary, because different authors use different styles
.of expression ; or, that there are no grammatical principles
:from which to deduce rules, because even in celebrated authors
we have frequent instances of false syntax. The faults of
.•others, whether in grammar or Punctuation, should not be
'. iieized on by any one as an excuse for his own ignorance j but
t '. should rather lead him to redoubled diligence, that he may
. avoid the rock on which they have split.
.· ,:_; · § 77. Old grammarians taught that points were used
merely as aids to r eading; and that, when the pupil came to
··a comma, he should stop till he could count one, when to a
semicolon, till he could say one, two, &c. ; and some writers,
j n accordance with this principle, use points, without reference
. -to sentential structure, wherever they wish the reader to
.·pause, determining what mark is to be employed solely by the
length of the pause r equired. From such a system grave
·.errors necessarily result. However convenient it may be to
1
' give such instructions to a child when beginning to . read, it
·,will soon be found that, if he remembers them and carries them
out he will not only constantly violate the principles of elo'
'
'cution, but will for the most part fail to understand the meaning of the sentences he enunciates. Punctuation is entirely
' ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~-'-~~-

•

- · § 76 What obj ection is fr equently made to the study of punctuation? Does usage
<differ? . For what is there great room? Ou what, nevertheless, is the art founded? Ia
' there any ground for I he objection?
·
"
§ 77. What did olcl grntnmnrians teach with regard to points? What will result
,from carrying out such a system ? What connection is there between punctuation and

84

PltINCil'LES OF THE ART.

independent of elocution. Its primary object is to bring out ·
the writer's meaning, and so far only is it an aid to the reader.
Rhetorical pauses occur as frequ ently where points arc not
found as where they are ; and for lJi learner to depend for
these on commas and semicolons would effectually prevent his
becoming a good reader, just as the use of such marks wher·
ever a cessation of the voice is required would completely ob·
scure a writer's meaning. This may be seen by comparing a
passage properly punctuated with the same passage pointed as .
its delivery would require.
PnoPERLY PUNCTUATED. The 1rnople of th e United States h ave justly
supposed that the policy of protecting their industry ngainst foreign
legislation and foreign industry was fully settled, not by a si ngle act,
but by repeated and deliberate acts of government, performed at di stant
and frequent intervals.
. PUNCTUATED FOR DELIVERY. The people of the United States, have
justly supposed, that th e policy, of protecting their industry, against
foreign legislation and foreign industry, was fully settled ; not, by a
single act; but, by r epeated and deliberate acts of government, per·
formed, at distant and frequent intervals.

From a paragraph punctuated like the last, little meaning
can be gathered.
§ 78. Let the following principles with regard to Punctuation be constantly borne in mind.
I. Points must be placed without reference to rhetorical
pauses. In the expression yes, sir, if we consulted delivery
we would place no point after yes ; grammar, however, requires a comma there.
II. The ,-principal use of points is to separate words and
clauses, and indicate the degree of connection b etween them.
Thus, clauses between which thti connection is close must be
· separated by commas; those in which it is more remote, by
semicolons.
III. Points are also used to indicate what part of speech
elocution? How does a passage properly pun ctuated compare with the same passage
pointed for delivery?
§ 78. ' What must not bo consnltcrl in tho uso of points ? \ Vlrnt is the principal use
of points? What else are they employed to indicate? Illustrate th is with the word

PRINCIPLES OF THE ART.

;a'lWord is. Thus, shame is in most sentences a noun o.r verb;
used as an interjection, it has an exclamation-point after it,
io denote the fact-shame !
·
·
aw IV. Another office they perform by showing to what class
·ii.' sentence belongs. Thus, " George is well," followed
a
J~l:iod, is a declarative sentence, asserti~g tha~ G~o~ge is. m
good health : followed by an interrogat10n-pomt, it is an m. '· terrogative sentence, and implies belief that he is well toge_th:r
with an inquiry whether it is not so ; in other. w~rds, it is
- equivalent to " George is well; is he n~t?" This important
· difference of llleaning can be conveyed m no other way· than
. by the use respectively of the period and interrogation-poin~.
i:fi\! V. Points are also empl~yed to indi~ate a sudden trans1·
j
·tioi:J. or break in the construction or meanmg. Thus, wh~re a
·sentence i.s suddenly interrupted or broken off, a dash · is
'.placed ; as, " 'Voe to the destroyer ! woe to the - -.. "; .
.: (- VI. Finally, they are used to denote the om1s~1on , of
1
·; ords. Such is the office of the commas in the fullowmg sen• tence : "Reading maketh a full man ; conference, a ready
man. writing, an exact man." The verb malceth being left
out i~ the last two clauses, commas are inserted to denote the
omissions.
VII. Never introduce a point unless you have some posi• J tive rule for so doing. Whenever there is any reasonable
, · doubt as to the propriety of employing the comma, do. not ~se
it. The tendency of punctuators at the present day is to m: ';traduce too many points.

?Y .

·~.~:' VIII. Be guided by rules . and princ~ples, no matter how
· ·~any or how few points they may require. Sentences may
·be so constructed as to need points after almost ev.ery word;
while others, even of some length, require no division at all.
. "What other office do they perform? Show this with the sentence, "George is
B1wme.
'
ti
· g ? What else
. "
,well." What do th ey frequently indicate in the construe on or m~amn
~· are th ey med to denote? Wh en th ere is doubt as to the propriety of employm., a
<"comma what is t he snfcst conr~o? Whnt is the tendency of puuctuators at the presen:
/ day? Wb~t is stated under tho eighth bead r especting the frequency and paucity 0

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THE PERIOD.

THE PERIOD.

87

"":" .. ' ' .
.
IX. Remember that " circumstances alter cases" ;
.f§ SL RuLE I.-A period must be placed after every de·
that, therefore, a mode of pointing which is accurate in a:
. .., ~tive and imperative sentence ; as, " Honesty is the best
short sentence may not, in a long one, be either tasteful or
-. P.o,lioy."-" Fear God."
even strictly correct. We shall revert to this subject from ,
• ~ These sentences having been defined in § 45, it is presumed no diffi. ·.tewty will be experienced in recognizing them, or in determining how
time to time hereafter.
·much of a paragraph must be taken to compose them. AB soon as a ·
§ 79. The characters used in Punctuation arc as fol~· passage makes complete sense, if it is at the same time independent of
lows:PERIOD,

SEMICOLON,

INTERROGATION-POINT,

1

Col\rnIA,

ExcLAMA'.i'ION·PornT,

DASH,

CoLoN,

p ARENTHESES 1
BRACICETS,

.

.: what follows in construction and not closely connected with it in mean-

• ing, the sentence is complete; and, if it be declarative or imperative,

'

must close with a period.

· •• ., § 82. The degree of closeness in the connection is a matter which
. 1intst be

( )

[]

We shall proceed to take these up in turn. Careful attention to the .1·
rules, and particularly to the examples that illustrate them, will, it is ?
believed, enable the writer to punctuate with propriety every sentence ,
that can occur. If, after diligent trial, he finds himself unable to do '\
l
this in the case of any sentence of his own composition, he is advised
to look over it carefully, to see if he has not violated some principle .
of rhetoric or grammar. Punctuating often leads to the detection of '
such errors.

LESSON

left somewhat to individual judgment; and this degree, it may be
remarked, is oflen the only criterion which a writer has to guide him
·'iii"deciding between periods and colons, colons and semicolons, semicol~ris 'and commas. No rule can be laid down that will cover every
~- t~u·e; but one or two principles may be stated, as applicable to most of
· l tJie cases that OCCUI' in practice.

.: ~ f;f ·words, clauses, and members, united by a conjunction, are reg~rde'.1
as more closely connected than those between which the conjunction is
-~~tted. Thus: "Truth is the basis of every virtue. Its precepts
. should be religiously obeyed." It is not improper to divide this passage
·in.to two distinct sentences, and to separate them with a period. If,
.· however, we introduce a conjunction between them, we make the con•nection closer, and cannot use a higher point than a semicolon. "Truth
·is the basis of every virtue; and its precepts should be religiously
obeyed."

..·· IL A clause containing a r elative pronoun is more closely connected

XVI.

.'.'1hu,. the one containing the antecedent, than the same clause

language, and means a circuit. This name is given
full stop (. ), because it is placed after a complete circuit ~
of words. The period is found in manuscripts of a compara.. t
tively early date, and was in use before any other point.

would be
• ~personal or demonstrative pronoun were sub11tituted for \ the rela'tive. "At this critical moment, Murat was ordered to charge with his
. · lb.aomitable cav'alry. which movement havin3 been performed with his
'. ~al gallantry, the 'issue of the battle was no longer doubtful" By
. ch"anging which to this, we d:minish the connection between the two
arts, and may punctuate differently. "At this critical moment, Murat
'as ordered to charge with his indomitable cavalry. This movement &c."

points in a sentence? According to the ninth bend, what is to be regarded In punc·
tuating a sentence?
§ 79. Name the characters used In punctuation. What advice is given to tho writer,
when be finds dilticulty in punctunting a senten ce .)f his own camposltion?
§ 80. Girn the rlerivation anrl mennlng of the word v eribd. Why Is the full stop
so call ed? ·when did tho period come Into uso?

§ 81. Repeat Rule I. How Is it determined when a sentence ls complete?
What is said of tlrn degree of closen ess In the co1mection ? What effect doeB
ii omlseion of n con,iunction between words, clauses, and m embers, have on the close·
, liees of the connection? Docs a relative or a demonstrative pronoun institut-0 a closer
connection between tho parts of a sentence. Illustrate this. How does a portion of 11

THE PERIOD.

§ 80. The word PERIOD is derived from the

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S82.

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THE PEUIOD.

88

89

THE rERIOD.

~ Then cried they all ngain, saying, Not this man, but l3arabbas.
t.i;1 ~ . Now Barabbas was a robber." In this sentence it is right to precede
III. A portion of a sentence that has a distinct subject of its own ii
now with a period, because this word does not imply connection,
less closely connected with the rest, than such a part as depends for jlA •
., bu~ i;neans simply to continue the narrative, to go on. .
subject on some preceding clause. Thus, in the sentence, " Truth is th\' _' ~'. Dorrut~nn w~s a lo.w,.cruel, and sen~ual wretch, whose highest pleasure
basis of every virtue, and its precepts should be religiously obeyed,"•)
.. consisted m ma1mmg helpless flies, whose mind was paralyzed by
~
sloth, wh<J?le soul was surfeited with disgusting gluttony, whose heart
semicolon is placed ·after virtue, because a new nominative, precept8, ii
introduced into the final member. If we keep trnth as the subject, th,e • Iii was dend to every generous impulse, and whose conscience was
. . ~ seared by crime. And this was the emperor of Rome, the contrpller
connection will be closer, and we must substitute a comma for the semi~_i.• r of the world's destinies." Here a period may be placed before and.
colon after virtue; as, "Truth is the basis of every virtue, and should · fil· Sentences in which; as in this, and does not closely connect, but is
simply equivalent to now, as used in the preceding example, constibe cherished by all."
,r
y • tute an exception to the general rule, and admit a period before and.
It follows from the above remarks that it is not proper to pl1111J
§ 83. From Remark II. it follows that a period must not separate a
a period immediately before a conjunction which closely connects whal
· relative clause from its antecedent. It would, therefore, be wrong to
follows with what precedes. This is frequently done in the translation
1 -substitute periods for e.emicolons in the following sentence: " There are
of the Scriptures, where we hnve verse after verse commencing wi~
, men whose powers operate in leisure and in retirement, and whose inand; but it is not authorized by good modern usage. In such eas~
either the passage so introduced ought to form part of the preceding BY!!'
1tellectual vigor deserts them in conversation; whom merriment contence, nnd be sepnrated from it only by a colon or semicolon; or else,,j!
fuses, and objection disconcerts; whose bashfulness restrains their exthis is impracticable on account of the great length or intricncy it woul~ • 'ertion, and suffers them not to speak till the time of speaking is past."
involve, the following sentence should be remodelled in such a way as~
~;f § 84. RuLE II.-A period must be placed after every abcommence with some other word. These remnrks apply to all conjunl)o
I
. pr_evia ted word ; as,. Dr. Geo. F. Johnson, F. R. S.
tions t}iat form a decided connection b etween the parts; such ns merely
.1 .Y § 85. The period in this case merely indicates the abbreviation, and
signify to continue the narrative, and imply no connection with what pr~
1
,
does not tnke the place of other stops. The punctuation must be the
,
cedes, may without Impropriety introduce a new sentence.
)
same
as if no such period were employed; as, "My clerk put the letter
As the substance of the preceding paragraph, we may lay down the fol·
in the P. 0.; there can be no mistake about it." "Horace Jones,jr., M.D.,
lowing general rule, r emembering that there are occasional exceptions
LL.D."
A sentence should not commence with the conjunctions and, for, or /i6;;,
1
:•r § 86. When, however, an abbreviated word ends a sentence, only one
ever; but may do so with but, now, and moreover.
. j)eriod must be used; for an example, see the close of the preceding
p~rngraph.
:· ·
EXAMPLES.
s: § 87. Under this head fall Roman capitals and small letters, when
:used"for figures; as," Charles I. was the son of James I."
· · - ,' "Friendship is not a source of pleasure only; it is also a source of dntY,:
0
and of the responsibilities it imposes we should never be unmindful'
,, §88. An important exception to this rule must be noted. When an
. Here and intimately connects the two members, nud a period mu'il
J!.q_breviated word is of sueh constant occurrence that, without reference
not precede it.
·r'
to the word from which it comes, it is itself considered as a component part
"There is only one species of misery which friendship cannot comfon;
the misery of atrocious guilt; for there are no pangs but those.,ol
four language, no period is placed after it. Thus, it would be wrong
conscience that sympathy does not nlleviate,'' H ere for implies;
put a period
after eve abbreviated from evening, or hack from liackney.
j li
.
·
close a connection that a period is inadmissible before it.

•>;·

:7

lo'

sentence containing n distinct subject of its own compar~ in closeness of connection willi
one that depends for its subject on some preceding clause ? G ivo nn exnmple.
~
Where Is it Improper to place a pcrlo<l? In whnt book do we frequently fiot'
~ente nces commencing with and r What two rerne<li cs nro Sllf:!!CSlcd for Filch cased
To what conjunctions do these remarks npply? Whnt conjunclione mny with proprietT
commence n new sentence? Is It ever proper to begin n sentence with andf ·ila
what case?

§ 88, What must n period in no case separate?
§ 84. Repent Rnle II.
' § 85. In this case whnt <loes the period indicate? Must it take the place of other
,,tops?
• § 86. In what cnse, however, is there an exception?
, ·,; § 87, When must the Roman cnpitals and small letters be followed by periods,
· under this rule ?
• § 88, Whnt lnrge clnss or nbbrovinled words constitute nu exception to tlils rule?

-·

90

THE PERIOD.

§ 89. So, when tJ1e first syllable of a Christian or given name . is
used, not as an abbreviation of the latter, but as a familiar substitute for 1
it, no period must be employed; as," Ben Jonson.''
For a comprehensive list of abbreviations, see Table at the
the volume.
·
EXERCISE I.

Insert periods in the following sentences, wherever requir-'.
ed by the above rules.
A graphic description of this scene may be found in Gibbon's Hist of
the Dec and Fall of the Rom Em, vol .ii, chap 5
.
Mrs Felicia Hemans was born in Liverpool, Eng, anu died at Dublin, '
1835, AD
:
:Messrs G Longman and Co have received a note from the Cor ~ec .pL ·
the Nat Shipwreck Soc, informing them of the loss of one of their ves· ·
•
sels off the N E coast of S A, at 8 r M, on the 20th of Jan
James VI of Scotland became Jas I of
En!Jand
''
'
:.•,
EXERCISE II.

In the following extract all the stops are inserted excep~.
periods. The pupil is required to introduce these points
wherever they are needed, and to begin each new sentence with .
a capital.
THE GROTTO OF ADELSBURG.

This great natural curiosity lies about thirty miles from tl~e Adr(
atic, back in the Friuli Mountains, near the province of Canola w.e '
arrived at the n earest tavern at three in the afternoon; and, subscr1·
bing our names upon the mngistrate's b ooks, took four guides and the re-•
quisite number of torches, and start.eel on foot _a h.alf hour'.s wa!k brought)
us to a large rushing stream, which, after turmng a n?11l, disappeared
with violence into the mouth of a broad cavern sunk m the base of a
mountain an iron gate opened on the nearest side; and, lighting our
torches we received an addition of half a dozen men to our party of.
guides,' and entered we descended for ten ~r fifteen minute~ throu~h .a
capacious ~allery of rock, llp to the ankle~ m mud, and ~eelrng contmu·
ally the dnppings exuding from the roof, ti!l by the echomg mnrmms of
dashing water we found ourselves approachmg the b:d of n subterraneous
river we soon emerged in a vast cavern, whos~ height, thou~h wc had ·
twenty torches, was lost in the darkness ~he r~ver 1:ushec1 dimly below 1
us, at the depth of perhaps fifty fe e~, partially ~llumrnated by a row of
lamps, hung on a slight wooden bridge by which we were to cross to_
the opposite side
.
.
. •
" ·we came after a while to a deeper descent, w l11 ch opcncLl rnto a ·
magnificent and spacious hall it is called 'the ball-room', and is used as
§ 89. What exception refers to certain CbrLstinn or given nnmos?

INTERROGATION-POINT .-EXCLAMATION-POINT.

91

·~11uch once a year, 011 the occasion of a certain Illyrian feast the floor has

been cleared of stalagmites, the roof and sides are ornamented beyond
all art with glittering spars, a uatural gallery with a balustrade of stal' actites contains the orchestra, and side-rooms are all around. where sup. .l< per might be laid and dressing-rooms offered in the style of a palace I
can imagine nothing more magnificent than such a scene a literal de.
scription of it even would read like a fairy tale .
"A little farther on, we came to a perfect representat10n of a waterfall the impregnated water had fallen on a declivity, and, with a slightly
.""ferruginous tiuge of yellow, poured over in the most natural resemblance
·· to a cascade after a rain w e proceeded for ten or fifteen minutes, and
found a small room like a chapel, with a pulpit in which stood one of
". ' 1. the guides, who gave us, as wo stood beneath, an Illyrian exhortation
' ·:: there was n sounding-board above, and I have seen pulpits in old Gothic
. ~ . churches that seemed, at a first glance, to have less method in their ar:. . chitecture the last thing we reached was the most beautiful from the
. cornice of a long gallery hung a thin, translucent sheet of spar, in the
""graceful and waving folds of a curtain; with a lamp behind, the hand
could be seen through any part of it it was perhaps twenty feet in
length, and hung five or six feet down from the roof of the cavern the
most singular part of it was the fringe a ferruginous stain ran through
it from one encl to the other, with the exactness of a drawn line; and
' thence to the curving edge a most delicate rose-teint faded gradually
~ down, like the Inst flush of sunset through a silken curtain had it been
p a work of art, done in alabaster and stained with the pencil, it would
: have been thought admirable
1
f ' "The guide wished us to proceed, but our feet were wet, and the air
of the cavern was too chill we were at least four miles, they told us,
· from the entrance, having walked briskly for upwards of two hours the
. grotto is said to extencl ten miles under the mountains, and has never
. . been thoroughly explored parties have started with provisions, and
' : 'passed forty-eight hours in it without finding the extremity it seems to
~ me that any eity I ever saw might be concealecl in its eaverns I have
". often tried to conceive of the grottos of Antiparos, and the celebrated
'. caverns of our own country; but I received here an entirely new-idea
r-. I of the possibility of space under gr~:mnd there is no eo_ncei".ing it un~een
the river emerges on the other side of the mountam, seven or mght
'I' :r: Iniles from its first entrance."
1.j

..

___. . _

LESSON XVII.
INTERROGATION·POINT.-EXCLAJIIATION·POINT.

§ 90. RuLE I.-An interrogation-point must be placed
·after every interrogative sentence, member, and clause.
' § 90. Repeat Rule I., relntlng to the use of the interrogation-point.

•
92

INTERROGATION-POINT.-EXCLAlt!A'l'lON-POINT.

INTERROGATION-POINT .-EXCLAMATION-POINT.

EXAMPLES.

EXAMPLES.

I. .After an interrogative sentence.-" .Are we not mortal 1"
II. .After an interrogative member.-" Our earthly pilgrimage is nearly
finished; shall we not, then, think of eternity?"
III. .After an interrogative clause.-" .As we must soon die (who knows
but this very night 1), we should fix our thoughts on eternity."

§ 91. Some sentences which are declarative in form are really interrogative (see § 78, Remark IV.), and must of course be closed with interrogation-points. Thus the sentence, "You will remain all night," is declarative in form, and, followed by a period, indicates a. positive announcement of the fact. If intended as an indirect question, however,
(" You will remain all night, will you not?") it must be followed by an
interrogation-point.

§ 92. After sentences which merely assert that a question has been
asked, a period must be placed, unless the exact words of the question
are given; in this case, an interrogation-point takes the place of a. period,
and must stand before the quotation-points enclosing the question. As,
"They asked me whether I would return."-" They asked me, ' ·will
you return? ' "
.- ·
So, if a question is introduced into the middle of a sentence, in the
exact words in which it was asked, an interrogation-point must be
placed before the last quotation-points, the following word must commence with a small letter, and the remainder of the sentence must be '
punctuated as it would be if no quoted clause were introduced ; as,
"These frequent and lamentable catastrophes ask . the question, 'Are
you prepared to die 1' with startling emphasis." The clauses of such
sentences, however, are capable of a decidedly better anangement; as
will be seen by the following alteration: "'l'hese frequent and lament- .
able catastrophes ask, with startling emphasis, the question, 'Are you ·
prepared to die ? ' "

§ 93. RuLE IL-An exclamation-point must be placed ''
after every exclamatory sentence, member, clause, and expression.
§ 91. ·what fbnn have some lnterrogntivo sentences? Ilow must they be closed f
Illustrate this.
§ 92. State the principl e relnting to sentences which merely decbre thnt n <]Uestion
has been nskecl. llow must wo punctunte questions introdu cccl Into th o micl<llo of a '•
sentence? How is the rest of th e sentence to be pointed? What is s..~i<l respecting the ..
arrangement of such senten ces~
·
§ 93. Repeat Iiule II., relating to the uso of the exclamation-point.

93

-~ l , ·.After a_n exclamatory sentence.-" How slow yon tiny vessel plo~ghs

.~·

the mam I "

·
clock is striking midnight;
, · how suggestive and solemn is the sound I"
.. Ill .After an excla1r1;atory clause.-" We buried him (with what intense
. and heart-rendrng sorrow I) on the field which his life-blood had
consecrated."
·
After exclamatory expressions.-" Consummate horror I guilt with- .
out a name I"

•;;IL After an e~c!amatory member.-" The

"''. § 9~. From the abo~o exa~ples it will be seen that the intcrroga' .t10n-pomt. and exclamatwn-pomt do not always denote the same degree
1
-0f separatwn, but are used when the connection is close as well as when
i~ ~s remote: Thus in Examples I. and II. they are placed after · propo·Sitwns makmg complete sense, and indicate as entire· separation from
. -what_ follows as would be denoted by a period. In the ' last ' example;
" thion the contrnry, the exclamation-points are by no means equivalent, in
, s respect, to periods. The two points under consideration therefore
· . : -not only separate complete and independent sentences with the force
. . 'periods; but are also placed between members like colons and : semico·:' i 'Ions, and even between clauses, like commas. In the first case, the
,:~ ,words following these points must commence with capitals; in the· last
' ' ~three cases, with small letters, as may be seen above. The sole crite' rion is the degree of connection subsisting between the parts thus sepa4, f ated.
1
. .-. § 95. Sometimes the connection is so close that the diffe~ent parts
~ are dependent on each other in construction, or do not make sense when
' .~ken sep~rately.. In this case, if each division is of itself distinctly
.m terrogative, varymg the question each time by applying it to some
. .new object; or, in other words, if it contains a repetition of the aux~ . iliary that asks the question, or an interrogative adverb, or· adverbial
. ,.clause,-use an interrogation-point after each, and 1et the following
• .word commence with a small letter; as, "How shall a man obtain the
· ,'. kingdom of God? by impiety 1 by murder? by falsehood? by theft¥ "
; . If, however, such divisions do not apply the question to any new
".; ·object, but merely state additional circumstances respecting that _which

of

0

...

~.

l

l

)

L

'•

' t•I

§ 94. What is said r especting the degree of separation denoted by the Interrogation;_, '• point and exclamation-point? When th ey separate complete and Independent sontcn~; •.ces, how ~ust tho next word commence? When they stand between members and
•'· ._clauses, how must th e following word commenco?
. ., .
.
< r.1 § 95. State the rnodo of punctuating, when the parts nre dependent on each other in
construction, nncl ench varies tho question by npplying it to some new object. How.l\l'e
these parts sepnrntcd if they do not thus vary tbe question?

\\
'

I

•

i

J
l

94

l

formed the original subject of the enquiry, they must not be separated
by interrogation-points, but by commas, semicolons, or colons, as hereafter directed; as, "\Vhere are now the great cities of antiquity, those
vast and mighty cities, the pride of kings, the ornament of empires W" -'
Here but one question is asked, and but one interrogation-point must be
employed.
§ 96. Observe, moreover, that wh en a succession of interrogative adverbs or adverbial clauses commence a sentence, the incompleteness of
the sense prevents us from placing an interrogation-point nftcr each of
them, as we would do if they stood at its close. The two following sentences illustrate this difference : "Under what circumstances, for what
purpose, at whose instigation, did he come 1"- "Under what circum- 1
stances did he come? for what purpose ? at whose instigation?"
§ 97. The principles laid down in § 95, 96, apply to the exclama- ·~ .
tion-point with I.he same force as to the interrogation-point. The following examples ·Will illustrate their application:-

'!

INTERROGA 'l'ION-POIN'l'.-EXCLAllIATION-POIN'l'.
INTERROGATION-POINT.-EXCLAMATION-POINT,

UNDER§ 95. What cold-blooded cruelty did Nero manifost I what
disgusting sensuality I what black ing ratitude! what concentrated selfishness! what utter di sr egard of his .duties, as a monarch and as a
man I-How quickly fled that h appy season; those days of dreamy love, ..;
those nights of innocent festivity !
'
UNDER§ 96. How extensive, how varied, h ow beaut.ifu l, h ow sublime, is the landscape !-How extensive is the landscape I how varied! ,f
how beautiful I how sublime I

i

§ 100. Two interrogative interjections, ch and hey, arc usually fol- ·
lowed by the interrogation-point; as, "You think it suits my com·
plexion, hey?"
' I

IV.-An exclamation-point may be placed
·~

§ 9G. 1n· what cnse is an interrogation-point inadmissiblo after interrogative adverbs
or adverbial clanses, following each other In n series?
§ 97. T o what besides tbe interrogation-point do the principl es just stated npply? ,
§ 98. Repeat Rul o III. What is the difference in signification and punctuaUon between 0 nnd oh r
§ 99. When nn interj ect.ion is very closely connected with other words, wbero Is
the cxclnmntion-point placed?
§ 100. What interjections are usually followed by tho interrogation-point?

...The comma may, without impropriety be substituted .
h
·
, in sue a case '
as " 0 F th ' S
"~or the excIama t'ion-pomt.
'
'
dangers of this night."
a er upreme, protect us from the

<•· § 102. RULE V.-Morc than one exclamation-point ma .
t'
y
' be placed after a sentence or expression d
dinary degree of emotion . as "P l't' I ehno mg an extraor.
'
'
o i wa onesty 11 Where
ca~ such a thing be found ? ,,
··
.As a general thing, this re1ietition of the
exclamation-point is conne o umorous and satirical compositions.

.ti d t h

EXERCISE.

t
.
.
en ences, penods, mterrogationf~I~ hs, an b excla~nat10n-pomts, wherever required by the rules
a ave ecn given.
•

§ 99. In some cases, when an intc1j cction is ve ry closely connect.ed
with other words, the exclamation-point is not placed between them, l)
but reserved for the close of the expression; as, " Fie upon thee I "

RuLE

cat10~ ; ~s, 0 Father Supreme ! protect us from th d
of.this mght."
e angers

. t

For an explanation of the difference between 0 and oh I , see § 68.. .

§ 101.

.aft~r a voca;}ve clause, containing an earnest or solemn invo-

J.. Insert,

§ 98. RuLE III.-An exclamation-point must be placed
after every interjection except 0; as, ah! alas! hold!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ . ,

95 '

.

. d

in tlie following
.
.

8

- UNDER § 90. There is no prccedr'!lt
]' b
when has such a case been )!'Cser t d ,, npp rca le to the quest.ion; for
look for another such in ihe flt e Ill z~~ past history - When may we
Who hath seen such a thing Sl~~~rtt
·ohhath I1eard su~h a thing
one day Shall an a ti on be bo
t
e cart be made to brmg forth in
·u
•
rn a once
NDER § 91. I have not seen him in
·
pose, -You in tend starting in Sritt11·d ,a ~ear He has grown I sup. <l f rom your mjury"
.
'- '"Q
· 'tny s s1cnmcr - "lro u Irn•-c qmtc
·
recoveze
unable to wnlk"
UJ e recovered ' · Oh no; I am still
UNDER§ V2. TI1 ey asked me wh I we t
'Pl..
do yon weep "-This is the question~ wh pll -;u~ey aske~ me, "Why '
ehase temporal pleasure at the
. ·
et er It is expedient to pur-.
the question: "Is it ex edient t~xpe~se of eternal happiness -This is
_pense of etemal happi'pness ,, TI pm chas~ temporal pleasure at the ex...;'*
·
1e question fo d b t
, ....ne is always a source of happ'
P'l r , e a e. was whether
.truth ",has been askeQ. b
mess. - 1 a~e s question, "\\'hat is
demanded the sentinel y many a candid cnqmrer - " Who is the1:e "
. J UNDER§ 93. How heavily we dra th l d '.
ly the bee winds her small but
e oa of hfe -How sweet11 ,g
Tieions blest - 0 the times 0 tlme owl ho}11 - 0 thoughts ineffable O
&ainty of life; yet oh how seld~emmJ~·a 8 0 • t 11: d~y --Snc~1 i~ the uncer-

of the country, I once more revisited ( wd l e~l1e I~ --:-Wlule m this part
.presentiments ) the home of my
th an a a with what melancholy
~·
you
. fa such cnses, what may be substituted for the exclamatiouTo :what kinds of composition is this repetition of the ex-

(
J

•
96

THE COLON.

INTERROGATION-POINT .-EXCLAMA TION·POINT,

UNDER§ 95, 96. Who shall separate us from th e lov e of Christ shall . ,
tribulation shall distress shall persecution shall famine shall peril ·
shall sword - I am charged with being an emissary of France An >
emissary of France And for what end lt is nll<'ged that I wi $hed to/
sell the independence of my conn try And for what end \Vas this the'', ·
object of m;y ambition and is this the mode by which a tribunal of jus-'
tice reconciles contradiclions - "'\Vhcn, where, under what circnmstances," .
did it happen -When did it happen where under what circum-,
stances
UNDER~ 97. How calm was the ocean how gentle its swell -How
wide was tl1e sweep of the rainbow's wings how boundless its circle;
how radiant its rings -0 virtue, how disinterested, how noble, how;
lovely, thou art - 0 virtue how disinterested thou art how noble how '
lovely -0 the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge,
of God how unsearchable are His judgments, and His ways imst finding
out
UNDER § 98. Hark daughter of Almon -Hist he comes - Hail·
sacred day -Lo I am with you alway -Zounds the man's in earncst-1
Indeed then I am wrong -0 clear what can the matter be -Humph,
this looks suspicious -Pshaw what can we do
UNDER§ 99. Woe to the tempter -Woe is me -Shame upon thy
insolence - Ah me - Away with him -Hurrah for the right -Hence-, ·
forth, adieu to happiness
UNDER§ 101. King of kings and Lord of lords in humility
proach Thy altar
0 Rome my country city of the soul
The orphans of the heart must turn to thee,
Lone mother of dead empires
Men of Athens listen to my defence -Ye shades of the mighty dead·
listen to my invocation.
UNDER § 102. .J\n honest lawyer An anomaly in nature. Cage;
him when yon find him, and let the world gaze upon the wonder - ,
diseerning lover that is n new animal, just born into the universe - ·
And this miserable performanee, in which it is debatable whether there,
is more ignorance or pretension, comes before the world with the high·
1
sounding title, " Dictionary of Dictionaries"
:MJ:scELLANEOUs.-Canst thou draw out leviathan with a hook, oi
his tongue with a cord which thou 11Jttcst down -When saw we thee a· ~
hungered, or nthirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, aµd
did not minister unto thee -When saw wo thee an hungered, and did.
not ministe1· unto thee or athirst or a stranger or naked or 'sick qr in.
prison -The question," \Vhat is man" has occupied the nttcntion ~t
the wisest philosophers ; yet how few have given n satisfactory an!.,:
swer -An ancient sage, being asked what was the greatest good in the
smallest compass, replied " The human mind in the human body" 'Ji)
"Am I dying " he eagerly asked " DY.i11g Oh no not dying " was th~
faint but hopeful response -It rains still, hey -Wh ere have you beellj
. eh -Aroynt thee, witch - " Ha, ha, ha " roarecl the squire, who en•
joyed the story amazingly "Ha, ha, ha " echoed the whole companY:,

97

LESSON XVIII
THE COLON.

r" ' § 103. The word CoLoN comes from the Greek langu:ige,
and means linib or member. Its use appears to have originated with the early printers of Latin books. Formerly it
was much used, and seems to have been preferred to the semicolo~, w~ich, with writers of the present day, too generally
usu.rps its place. The Colon, however, has a distinct office
,of its own to perform; and there are many cases in which no
point can with propriety be substituted for it. It indicates
.the.next greatest degree of separation to that denoted by the
period.
·

§ 104. RuLE I.-A colon must be placed between the
great divisions of sentences, when minor subdivisions occur
.that are separated by semicolons j as, - "We perceive the
,~hadow to have moved along the dial, but did not see it mov~ng i. we observ~ that the grass has grown, though it was impossible to see it grow: so the advances we make in knowl.-~dge, consisting of minute and gradual steps, are perceivable
.o!11Y after intervals of time."

it~

·;· . The example just given is composed of three members, of which
· eVIdent that the first two are more closely connected with each other
•than with the last. The former requiring a semicolon between them
as will appear hereafter, the latter must be cut off by a point indicatfu~
1' greater degree of separation, that is, a colon.

!~. § 105. RuLE IL-A colon must be placed before a formal
·enumeration of particulars, and a direct quotation, when re;/erred to by the words thus, following, as follows, this, ·these,
~c. ; as, " Man consists of three parts: first, the · body, with
§ 103. From what langunge is the worrl colon derived? What does it mean 1 With
·:whom did this point origin ale? What is said of Its use formerly and at the presen~
day? What degree of separation does it denote?
:
i~ , § 104. Repeat Rule I.
$105. Repeat Rule IL What is meant by a formal enumeration or partlcul~ 7

.,

·

5

98

THE COLON.

its sensual appetites; second, the mind, with its thirst for ·
knowledge and other noble aspirations; third, the soul, witb.r
its undying principle."-" Mohammed died with these words
on his lips: '0 God, pardon my sins! Y cs, I come
my fellow-citizens on high.''' ·

...

99

THE COLON.
.

~

By" a formal enumeration" is meant ono in whic!1 ~he particulars :
are introduced by the words first, secondly, &c., or smular terms. · In ,
this case, the objects enumerated are separated from each other by semi:·
colons · and before the first a~colon must be placed, as in the example - ·
given ~bove. If the names of the particulars m_erely are .gi;en, without any formal introductory words or accompanymg description, commas
are placed between them, and a semicolon, instead of a colon, is used ·_,
before the first.; as, "Grammar is divided into four parts; Orthography,
Etymology, Syntax, and Prosody."
§ 106. If the quoted passage consists of several sentences or begins
a new paragraph, it is usual to place a colon followed by .a dash (:-) :
at the end of' the preceding sentence; as, "The cloth havmg been removed, the president rose and said:·
Ladies and. gentlemen, we have assembled,'" &c.
§ 107. If the quoted passage is introduced by that: or if it is. s~ort
and incorporated in the middle of a sentence, a colon IS not adnnss1ble
before it; as, "Remembr.r that 'one to-day is worth two to-morrows.' ~
''Bion's favorite maxim, 'Know thyself,' is worth whole pages of goo~~ ·

•

advice."
§ 108. When the quoted passage is brought in without ~ny intr~·
ductory word, if short, it is generally preceded by a comma; if long, by '.
a colon; as, "A simpleton, meeting a philosopher, asked him, ' What
affords wise men the greatest pl~asnre ~' Turning on his heel, the sage ·
promptly r eplied, 'To get ricl of fools.'" The u se of the colon in this
case is illustrated in § 105.

§ 109. RuLE III.-A colon was formerly, and may now
be, placed between the members of a compound sentence,
When thns formally enumerated, how nre the particulars separated from each other!,
What marks must precede the first? When the names merely are given, how are they
separated, and by what pr~ceded?
··' .
§ 106. If tho quoted pa.ssago consists of several sentences or a paragrnph, how Is t~e •
preceding sentence generally closed?
§ lOT. In what case is n colon inadmissible before n quoted passage?
,
§ 108. State tho principle that applies to n quoted pnssago brought in without an_Y
1
•
introductory word.
·
§ 109. Repeat Rnle III. What is said of usage in these CMes? What Is the highest
point that can be used between members connected by a coujnnctlon?
~

··~ifien'. there is no conjunction between them and the connection
1B slight; as, ·" Never flatter the people: leave that to such as
mean to betray them."
••.J
ri.. \With regard to the cases falling under this rule, usage is divided.
· Many good authorities prefer a semicolon; while others substitute e.
period, and commence a new sentence with what follows. It appears to
~-~settled, however, that, if the members are connected by a conjunction,
!' semicolon is the highest point that can be placed between them; as,
.., ,$ !:'.Never flatter the people; but ·l eave that to such as mean to betray

j ~~ . -

EXERCISE.

"i :." ·: Insert, wherever required in the following sentences, pe. '.: ~iods, interrogation-points, exclamation-points, and colons. .
! ':¥.r· UNDER § 104. No monumental marble emblazons the deeds and fame

' of Marco Bozarris; a few round stones piled over his head are all that
marks his grave yet his name is conspicuous among the greatest heroes
and purest patriots of history-" .Most fashionable ladies," says a plain-.
• spoken writer, "have two faces ; one face to sleep in and another to
~ Bhow in company the first is generally reserved for the husband and
,. ?' fam!ly at h?me; th.e ?ther is put .o n to please strangers abroad the
t<> fam1ly face 1s often mddferent enough, but the out-door one looks some'· thing b~tter" - You have called Y?urself .an atom in the universe; you
~' have ~aid tha~ you "'.ere but an rnsect m the solar blaze is your present pride consIStent with these professions
.UNDER§ 105. The object of this book is twofold first, to teach the
" inexperienced how to express thei~ thoughts correctly and elegantly;
1• secondly, to enable them to apprecrnte the productions of others-The
,.., j ; human family is composed of five races, differing from each other in feat ture and color first, the Caucasian or white; second, me - Lord Bacon
· has summed up the whole matter in the following words "A little philosophy inclineth men's minds to atheism; but depth in philosophy
bringeth men's minds to religion" - Where can you find anything simpler
yet more sublime than this i::entiment of Richter's " I love God and little
_. children"-He answered my argument thus "The man who lives by
·hope will die by despair"
:. _ · UNDER~ 106. Cato, being nex't called on by the consul for his opinion,
'!< delivered the following forcible speech
·
;' Conscript fathers, I perceive that those who have spoken before
-.t me &c
~
'
'
.
'
r ' UNDER ~ 107. Socrates 1.JSed to say that other men lived in order that
they might eat, but that he ate in order that he might live -The propo- .
.eition that "whatever is, is right", admits of question-It is a fact on
I'~ which we may congratulate ourselves that "honor and shame from no
"<· condition rise" -The Spanish proverb, " he is my friend that grinds
, ~ my mill,'' exposes the false pretensions of persons who will not go out of
~ their way to serve those for whom they profess friendship
·
}'

.

at

\

,/
'

}

)i
j

---

•

---- --- ~ ··

~

101

'l'HE SEMICOLON.

THE SEMICOLON.

UNDER§ 108. Solomon says" Go to the ant, thou sluggard" - Dio~e­
nes, the eccentric Cynic philosopher, was constantly finding fault with
his pupils nnd acquaintances To excuse himself, he was accustomed to
· say " Other dogs bite their enemies ; but I Lite my fri ends, that I may
save them" -A Spanish proverb says "Fom persons are indispensable
to the production of a good salad first, a spendthrift for oil; second, a
miser for vinegar; third, n counsellor for salt; fourth, a madman, to stir
it all up
UNDER§ 109. Love hath wings beware lest he fly- I entered at the
first window that I could reach a cloud of smoke filled the al?artment ~
Life in Sweden is, for the most part, patriarchal almost pruneval sim:·
plieity reigns over this northern land, almost primeval solitude and still!
ness - Discretion is the perfection of reason, and a guide in all the 1
duties of life cunning is a kind of instinct, that looks out only after it.a.
own im_m ediate interest and welfare
·
MrscELLANEous.-vVhat a truthful lesson is taught in these words of .
Sterne "So quickly, sometimes, has the wheel turned round that many '
a man has lived to enjoy the benefit of that charity which his own piety
projected"-Colton has truly said that" kings and their subjects, mas;
ters and servants, find a common level in two places; at the foot of the •
cross, and in the grave" - We have in u se two kinds oflnnguage, the
spoken and the written the one, the gift of God; the other, the invention ·
of man - How far silence is prudence, depends upon circumstances l
waive that question- You have friends to cheer you on; you have bookil ,
and teachers to aid you but after all the proper education of your m.li{d
must be your own work - Death is like thunder in two particulars .we
are alarmed at the sound of it; and it is formidable only from what has
preceded it

· mem_ber~ of compound sentences (see § 41 ), unless the con~
• ~ection is exceedingly close ; as, " Lying lips are an abomina·
t10n to the J... ord; but they that deal truly are Hi"s delight."
'"'{-·We . have already seen, in § 109, that, when there is no conjunction

100

·----·-LESSON XIX.
THE

SEMICOLON.

§ 110. TnE word SEMICOLON means half a linib or m
ber; and the point is used to indicate the next greatest d
gree of separation to that denoted by the colon. It was fif
employed in Italy, and seems to have found its way into Eng
land about the commencement of the seventeenth century. ~;:.·
§ 11 L RuLE I.-A semicolon must be placed between ..
tliJ
·,,
§ 110. 'Vhnt docs tho worcl Bemicolon mcnn? Whnt degree of separation doee
indicate? Whort1 wns It first om ployed? When dl<l it find lt.s way Into Engllllld•!1 '

betw~en

the members, a colon may be used, if the connection iS slight;
a eem1eolon, however, is generally preferred. On the other hand, when
th_e mem?ers are :ery short and the connection is intimate, a comma may
Wlthout impropriety be employed; as, "Simple men admire the learned
__fgn~rant men despis.e them." Usage on this point is much divided, th~
choice bet~een seilllcolon and comma depending entirely on the degree
of. connect10n b etween the members, respecting which different minds
~ot be expected to agree. In the example last given, either a semioofon or a comma may be placed after learned.
-

~u.L~ IL-A semicolon must be placed between
great div1s10ns of sentences, when minor subdivisions oc~~ th.at are separated by commas; as, " Mirth should be the
eip,J>roidery of conversation, not ,the web; and wit the ornanient of the mind, not the furniture."
. .:·§ 113. RuLE III.-When a colon is placed before an enumer,~~.on o~ particulars, the objects enumerated must be separated
1>~ semicolons ; as, " The value of a maxim depends on four
\hµigs: the correctness of the principle it embodies · the subje~ ~o . w?ich it. rel.ates; the extent of its applica~ion; and
~ ,f:JaSe with which it may be practically carried out."
"'."~.§ 11.4.. RuLE IV.-A semicolon must be placed before an
~llmer~t10n _of par~iculars, when the names of the objects
~rely are given, without any formal introductory words or
aoo~mpanying description ; as, " There are three genders·1 the
masculine, the feminine, and the neuter.''
·
§'.\15. RuLE V.-A semicolon must be placed before the
· n~p.nction As, when it introduces an example. For an illustJ~n, ~ee the preceding Rule.
1
",

•

§ 112.

~be

~·::--~~~--'-~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~- '
I 111. Repeat Rule I•. What other point may be used, when there Is no conjunc··'.
.r, When the connection is very close, what point may be employed?
··
·· :
S112. Repent Rule II.
·• · · 1
I 118. Repeat Rulo III.
I p4. Repeat Rule IY.
I 116. Repeat Rulo V•

'!'HE SE!IIICOLON.

THE SEMICOLON.

102

§ 116.

VI.-When several long clauses occur in sue- .
cession all having common dependence on some other clause or
'
· 1ons ·' a s ' ·"If we ne- ,
word, they
must be separated by sennco.
glected no opportunity of doing good; if we fed the hu~~ry
. . t ere d to the sick., if we gave up our own luxu11es,,
an d mm1s
to secure necessary comforts for the destitute ; though no man '.
might be aware of our generosity, yet in the ap~;ause of our
own conscience we would have an ample reward.
RULE

1

-are sh ort, t h ey may b e s eparated by commas i
§ 11 ,,1. If the clauses
·
b't'
hall share
" If I succeed if I r each the pinnacle of my am i ·ion, you s .
;
as,
'
my triumph."
EXERCISE.

Insert in the following sentences, wherever
the rules, all the points thus far considered:.
U
§ 111 Air was r egarded as a simple sub~tance by ancten~1

• NDER
• h
. erime11ts of Cavendish prove it to be compose
ph1los0Fhers b~i:roe e~~ The gem has lost its 8parkle scar?e ~ vestige"
of oxygen and ·u· g
.
The porcupine is fond of chmbrng trees
of its former bn iancylre1!1afms-:-hed with very long claws - The Lap·
d f . this purpose 1e is urnts
.
t·
ideanodf
of them are i o a ers a
.
.
ship is contemptible
·
.
th :M
';
TheJews ruinthemselvesatthe1rPassover e. oorsd,.
U NDER § 112
• •
d I Ch : t'
in their law-suits -The po1sone
at their marn~ges an t 1 ~
~is mns,
d of considerable width it prevaliey of Java is twenty miles m e~:ri;• a~ntirel destitute of vegetatiorlt
sen ts a most desolated a~p~-ir~1~e,t the;are mer~ly the instruments of hi~
-The P?et l~~s 7or \~~e~! and thistles ever enemies of the husband·
art, not it\o, ~_ec ts
~t from the garden' of the mind good s~ed must be
~~~~ 1~1~1dt tl~e r~~o~inog crop must be carefully attended to, if we won}~
have a plenteous harvest
II
fi ' t;
U
§ 113 The true order oflearning sh~uld b e ns. fo ows rs
~DER
•
second what is u seful and third, what is ornamen
what ~ i"~~essatr~ome in ' the church first, apostles se~ondarily, prophet._
thi~d~y, ~:acb!~s after that, mirac~es then,. gif~s of healt~gs, £hl~I£;s~o;~rn
men ts diversities of tongues - '!he duties o man a~e wo o
'
.
that h e owes to his Creator secondly, those d~e ~ igs lel~~':i~eenwith ')
mths 0 )en b efore every you~h on the one an , ~a .
, . h •\.
I . 1 I d hort-li'ved pleasures on the other, that of virtue, wit _~
un1 ca an s
•
.
. ' ..
renuiue nncl permanent happmess it ensures
.
.
g UNDER§ 114. We ha.ve three great bulwarks of liberty viz., sch~~ls;

t~nde~: hav~dlit1tlte

t~~~~i::P~~s~i~~E\~ma~ ~~~;u~; a~r~~!~;· ~~~.'

l

§ 116 Repeat Rule VI.
§
: If the dependent clauses are short, bow may they be separated?
111

103

colleges, and universities - There are three cases the nominative, the
possessive, and the objective -According to a late writer, London surpasses all other great cities in four particulars size, commerce, fogs, and
pickpockets
UNDER § 115. After interj ections, pronouns of the first person are generally used in the oj:Jjective case as, ".Ah me" Those of the second perllon, on the other hand, follow interj ections in the nominative as, "0
' thou"
'I·\· UNDER § 116. The greatest man is he who chooses the right with in:vincible r esolution who resists the sorest temptations from .within and
without who b ea1·s the heaviest burdens cheerfully who is calmest in
itorms, and most fearless under menace and frowns and whose reliance
on truth, on virtue, and on God, is most unfaltering -The •·delightful freedom of Cowper's manner, so acceptable to those long accustomed
to a poetical school of which the radical fault was constraint · his noble
and tender morality his fervent piety his glowing and well-expressed
patriotism his descriptions, unparalleled in vividness and accuracy his
·playful humor and powerful satire,- all conspired to render him one of '
~e most popular poets of his day
, UNDER§ 117. Read not for the purpose of contradicting and conTuting nor of believing and taking for granted nor of finding material for
~ment and conversation but in order to weigh and consider the
thoughts of oth ers - ·w1ie11 I have gone from earth when my place is
vacant wheu my pilgrimage is over will thy faithful heart still keep my
. - memory greeu
' • ' ~OELLANEOUS.
This wide-spr ead republic is the future monument to Washington Maintain its independence uphold its constitution
-P.reserve its union defend its liberty -Th e ancients feared death we,
. ~anks to Christianity, fear only dying -The study of mathematics
OUltivates the reason that of the languages, at the same time, the reason
&n:d the taste The former gives power to the mind the latter, both
P.>wer and flexibility The former, by itself, would prepare us for a
it&ie of certainties which nowhere exists the latter, 'for a state of probaUities, which is that of common life -Woman in Italy: is trained to
lhrink from the open air and the public gaze she is no rider· is never in
' :the death in a fox-hunt is no hand at a whip, if her life depended oil.
ahe never k eeps a stall at a fancy fair never takes the lead at iL deting club she never addresses a stranger, except, p erhaps, behind a
in carnival-season h er politics are limited to wearing tri-color rib. and refusing an Austrian as a partner for the waltz she is a dunce,
'd m11okes no mystery of it a coward, and glories in it - Lord Chatham
e an administration so checkered and speckled h e put tqgether ,a
of joinery so crossly indented and whimsically dovetailed he conrdcted a cabinet so variously inlaid with whigs and tories, _patriots
d courtiers,-that it was utterly unsafe to touch and unsure to stand
~~Helmets are cleft on high blood bursts and smokes around

89/

,:)"1:

•
104

THE COMMA.

THE COlU.lA.

.105

seen, may be omitted without injury to the sense, and stand, in every
. case, between ihe subject and its verb:-

LESSON XX .
THE

COM.MA.

§ 118. The word CoMMA means that which is out off;
and the mark so called denotes the leas t d egree of separation •
that requires a point. In its present form, the comma is not
found in manuscripts anterior to the niuth century; a straight
line drawn vertically between the worus was formerly used in
its place.

§ 119. GENERAL HuLE.-'rhe comma is used to separate
words, phrases, clauses, and short membors, closely connected
with the rest of the sentence, but requiring separation by
some point m consequence of the construction or arrangement.
PARENTHETICAL EXPRESSIONS.
§ 120. Words, phrases, adjuncts, and clauses, are said to
be PARENTHETICAL when they are not essential to tho moaning
of a sentence and are introduced in such a way as to bi-ealc the
connection between its component parts. They arc generally
introduced near tho commencement of a sentence, between a
subject and its verb; but they may occupy other positions.
Every such parenthetical expression must be separated from
the leading proposition by a comma before and after it.

EXAMPLES

OF

PARENTHETICAL EXPRESSIONS.

1. Napoleon, wiqucstionably, was a man of genius.
2. There is, as. it were, an atmospheric maelstrom all about us.
3. History, in a word, is r eplete with moral lessons.
4. Thomson, who was blessed with a strong and copious fancy drew
. his images from nature itself.

RESTRICTIVE EXPRESSIONS.

§ 121. 'fhe mere introduction of adjuncts and clauses be. . tween a subject and its verb, docs not make them parenthetical. Som etimes they form an essential part of tho logical subj ect, and cannot be omitted without rendering the sense in.complete. In that case, th ey are not parenthetical, but RESTRICTIVE; and there must be no comma between them and
that which they restrict. vVhothor a comma is to be placed
after such restrictive expressions, depends on principles hereafter explained.
Examples of r estricti ve adjuncts and clauses are furnished below.
'The pupil is requested to compare them carefully with the examples of
parenthetical expressions just given, and to make himself so familiar
' with their distinguishing features that he can at once determine to
.which of the two classes any given adjunct or clause belongs. Few
· 'sentences occur without expressions of this kind; and, as they must
"have a comma on each side of them if parenthetical, but none before
jthem if restrictive, constant mistakes will be made unless the distinction
is thoroughly understood. The criterion is, will the meaning of the
sentence b e preserved if the expression is omitted l If so, it is paren' thetical; if not, restrictive.

As these expressions are of cwistant occurrence, and are always ,
punctuated in the same manner, with a comma on each side of them, it
is important that the pupil should be able to recognize them without
difficulty. The following examples contain respectively a parenthetical
word, phrase, adjunct, and clause, printed in italics; which, it will be

EXAl\lPLES

OF

RESTRieTivE EXPRESSIONS.

1. The love of money is the root of all evil. ·
A bird in tho hand is worth two in the bush.
2. A man tormented by a guilty conscience can not be happy.
'Those who sleep late lose the best part of the day.
I . •

out off from tbe rest of tbe sentence ? Give examples, and show In each case how you

§ 118. Wh at does th o word comma mean? Wlrnt de.greo of sepnration does the . •
mnrk so cnlled denot e? In its present form, when wns tho commn first used? Before ·
that time, what was employed in its stead?
§ 119. R epeat tho General Rule.
§ 120. 'Vhen are words, phrases, ndjnncts, nn<l elnuses, snid to bo parentbetJcal?
Where nro they genernlly inlroclucell? How must every pnrcnth ctlcnl expression bo

~ 'know the expression to be parenthetical.
'

§ 121. Besides Its P?Sltion, what Is necessary to make nn expression parenthetical?
When are ncljuncts and clauses cnllecl restrictive? From what must r estrictive adjuncts and clnuses not be cut off by the comm n? What Is the criterion for determining
'-nether a sentence Is purenth eticnl or restrictive? Give exnmples, sud show in each
1ca.se how yon know t ho expression to bo restr!ct!vo.

5*

--------~- ---~-...

106

- -··

THE COMMA.

THE COMMA.

H,ULE !.-PARENTHETICAL EXPRESSIONS.
§ 122. A comma must be placed before and after
parenthetical word, phrase, adjunct, clause, and
see the examples in § 120.
The words referred to iu this rule are chiefly conjunctions
verbs. Those of most frequent occurrence are as follows:too,
moreover
apparently,
also,
likewise,
meanwhile,
then,
however,
consequently,
unquestionably,
surely,
finally,
accordingly,
indeed,
namely,
perhaps,
therefore,
notwithstanding.
.
The phrases most frequently introduced parenthetically are as fol·
!

lows:as a matter of course,
in truth,
in reality,
at all events,
in fact,
no doubt,
to be brief,
in fine,
of course,
to be sure,
in short,
above all,
in general,
ge~erally speaking, on the contrary,
now and then.
in particular,
as it were,
The most common parenthetical adjuncts are these:without doubt,
in the first place,
by chance,
without question,
in the mean time,
in that case,
beyond a doubt,
in a word,
for the most part,
beyond question,
in a measure,
on the other hand. .,,
Any of the clauses enumerated in § 43 may be used parenthetieallY,• .
§ 123. A comma must be placed before and after parenthe~ica: subjects introduced by as well as; as, "Industry, as well ns gemus, IS
sential to the production of great works."-" Printing, as well as every
other important invention, has wrought great changes in the world." ~§ 12,1. A comma must be placed on each side of negative adjunct.a .
and clauses when introduced parenthetically by way of contrast or op-;
position; a~, "Prosperity is secured to a state, not by the acquisiti~n
of territory or riches, but by the encouragement of industry and the dis:
semination of virtuous principles."
·
If, however, the word expressing negation is removed from

er

§ 122. Repeat Rnle I. What parts of speech, for the m ost part, nre the words here
r eferred to? Enumerate some of the principal. Mention th e phrases most freqnenUr,
introduced p arenthetically. Give some of the commonest parenthetical adjunct& ·
What clauses may b e used parenthetically?
·"!}
§ 123. What subjects are introduced parcnthetlc111ly, nncl fall und er this rule? . I,
§ 124. State th e principle that applies to negative arljun cts and clauses. Whi&
change in the punctuation must be made, if the word expressing negation ls rem!!~i

107

.junct or clause in question and joined to the leading verb, one comma
ciI\ly must be used, and that before the conjunction · which introduces
~e last of the contrasted expressions ; as, " Prosperity is not secured to
:~ :state by the acquisition of t erritory or riches, but by the eneourage,ffl~nt of industry and the dissemination of virtuous principles."
·
'd f the parts of the sentence are inverted, so that the clauses or ad~Juncts are brought b efore the leading verb with the introductory words,
' . ~is, then the clause or adjunct introduced by the conjunction receives
,th.e commas, one on each side ; as, " It is not by the acquisition of ter'
.
,
f 'oory or riches, but by the encouragement of industry and the . dissem. ·$nation of virtuous principles1 that pi·osperity is secured to a state."
; ...1, §
'
.
.
. .
'[
·:· · .:-; 125. Some are m the habit of omittmg the comma before a paren-~.etical expression when it follows a conjunction. This is wrong; there,
.as.in every other position, it must b e cut off by a comma on each side:
. u, "Your manners are affable, and, for the most part, pleasing." .
tl'
ti .§ 126. Observe, with regard to the words referred to in Rule I.,· that

js only when they belong to the whole proposition, and not to individual
:words, that they are thus cut off by commas. A few examples, which
Jthe pupil is requested to compare, will illustrate this difference. · ·
· ,;-;· ExAMP~ES.-The passions of mankind, ltowever, fre~uently blind them.
·'HrnJJever fairly a bad man may appear to act, we distrust him.-Is it
~·to be supposed that vice will ultimately triumph ?-We then pro~
.ed on our :vay.-I would, too, present the subject in another point
. ew.-It rams too h ard to venture out.
'
·1

.
!if· · ,'

EXERCISE.

~ ~.1 Supply

the commas omitted in the following sentences, re•ei;ribering that none must be introduced unless required by
~positive rule.
·· ·
' .
.. NDER § 122., ~othing on earth I tell you can persuade me' to such
· etep~-Ther e

Is It must be admitted something attractive in ·such
speculations.-Nothing in my opinion is more prejudicial to the
hi_!.erests o~ a. nation th:in unsettled and varying pohcy.-The fundamental prmc1ples of science at least those that were abstract rather
th_an practical _;vere deposited during the Middle Ages in the dead languages.-A wluff of tob.acco smoke strange as it may appear gives
·1D1ong these barbarous tnbes not merely a binding force but an in viola~y

tom the adjunct or clause and

joined to the leading verb? What is the proper mode
tfpolnt!ng, when the parts of the sentence are Inverted, and the introductory words
""are employed?
· . • f25. In wh at cnso itre some In the habit of omitting the comma before a paren'i~cal expression? Is this right?
.
·
~6. In what case only are the words referred to in Rule I. cut off by commas?

ble sanctity to treaties.-This added to other considerations will pre.
vent me from coming.
UNDER § 123. Nations as well as men fail in nothing which they
boldly attempt.-The unprincipl ?d polit~cian like ~h e chameleon is con~
stantly changing his color.-Mane Antoinette unlike most regal person· .
ages was extremely affable in her m::urners.-The insect as well as the
man that treads upon it h:is an offic~ to pcrf? rrr_i.-~angerous as well. na
degradil!g are _the promptings. of pnde.-Prrn.tmg like every other llll:
portant mvention has wrought great cha_!l_g es Ill the world.
;'
UNDF..R § 124. This principle has been fully settlei.l not by any single
act but the repeated and deliberate dec!arat1ons of gov~r~1ment.-Songs
not of merriment and revelry but of praise and thanksg1 vmg were he~rd
asccnding.-A great J?Olitical cri~is is the time not_f?r tard.Y. co_nsultatron ·
bnt for prompt and vigorous act10n.-:-:-A great poh~1cal cnsis ?S not th.a
time fur tardy cons~tation but for prompt and v1g?rous act10n.-1t. JS ·
not tardy cousultation but prompt and vigorous ac~10 n that n grea~ pl)o
litical crisis requires.-Juries not judges are responst~lle fo!· these e~1ls.­
N ot for his own glory but for his country's preservat10n did. 'Vaohmgton
take the field.-lt was not in the hope of p ersonal aggrn11<l1zemcut that
our forefathers embarked in the revolutionary strugglc·Lnt to secure for
themselves and_theii· posterity that- without which they 'felt life was
valueless.
'
'
UNDER~ 125. Milton was like Dante n statesman and a lover; and
like Dante he had been unfortunate in an;ibition and in love.-W e may
perhaps find it difficult t? admire Queen Eliz~beth as a woman; bul
without doubt as a sovereign she deserves our highest respect. She soon
if we may believe contemp?raneous his~orians gain~d incredible influence
with her pe_ople; and wlule. she m~nted all their esteem by her r~al
virtues she also engaged their affections by her preten4ed ones.
•
UNDER- § 126.
There were besides several-.pther co9si·dcrations
which led Columbus to b elieve -that the earth was round.-There · ar~
others besides its soldiers to whom a state should sh'ow its gratitude.Now from this I would argue that nil violent m c asmc~ are at the pre11
ent time impoliiic.-Who now believes iu the div~nc right i3f ki11gs.1~
Morning will com ~ at last howcrcr dnrl~ th e rnght !11:-ty bc.-Ga}1le?
h owev er was convmced of the truth of !us theory, and therefore; pe~
sisted in maintaining it even at the ri sk of imprisonm?nt and ~eath.
[In the last sentence, therefore docs not break the connection s_]-1ffic1enU7
to be set off by coIIlIIlas.]

. --la.oh a way as not to break the

connection between depe11dent ·
· parts, they are cut off by but one comma, which comes after
. ·~~hem if they commence the sentence, but before them if they
•...en,d it; as, "Unquestionably, Napoleon was a man of genius·."
:-::-"Generally speaking, an indolent person is unhappy."-" This
· i~' . the case, beyond a <loubt. "-" See the hollowne;~ of_thy
pretensions, 0 worshipper of reason."
f:.-•

Observe, however, that snch expressions as are restrictive do not
fall under this rule.

; . · § 128. A comma must also be placed after the followiug and similar
~ words, whi;~h are rarely, and some of them never used parenthetically

and refer, not t~
'(J
•
agam,
yes,
now
first,
no,
why,
secondly,
further,
•howbeit,
nay,
well,
thirdly, &c.
_As," Yes, the appointed time has come."-" Why, this is rank in.~ljustice. "-" ·well, follow the dictates of your inclination."
· 'when they stand at the commencement of

TI-IE

COMMA

(coNTINUED.)

RULE JI.-CJLAUSES, WORDS, PHRASES, AND ADJUNCTS.

§ 127. 'When clauses, and when words, phrases, and ad ,
juncts, that may be used parenthetically, are introduced in

sente~ces,

~

; any particular word, but to the proposition as a whole:-

1

,::J: ·§ 129.

A comma must b e placed after here and there, now and then,
they introduce contrasted clauses or members; as, "Here, every
._ ·citizen.enjoys the blessings of personal freedom; there, despotism forges
·
• fetters for thought, word, and notion."
''.~hen

,·,:'. . § 130. The comma may be omitted in the case of too, also, tlierefore,
,. · and p erhaps, when introduced so as not to interfere with the harmo1nious flow of the period, and, particularly, wheu the sentence is short;
;. as," Industry gains respect and riches too."- " H e delivered a lecture
~on Monday evening nlso."- " Perhaps they are safe."
;~:.~

§ 131. In tho case of adjuncts immediately following a verb, the
:"bonncction is often so close that a comma is inadmissible ,· as , "I did it
".:~ v.:-ith my own hand."
;t,
-;1·· § 132. .Adverbial, ndjective, and hypothetical clauses, if very short,
; closely connected, and introduced so as not to interfere with the harmo;\fJ'"

··~-..

LESSON XXI.

109

THE COMMA.

THE COMMA.

108

-.

.

§ 127. R epent llule II. What expressions do not fall under this rule?
.>f ,
§ 128. ·w1iat other words, rarely nsed parenth etically, take a comma after them
· when they stan<l at the commencement of sentences?
• · , § 129. State the rule r elating to liere and there, now and then.
"', ': § 130. In th e case of what words may the comma be omitted?
, ' § 131. What ls saicl of the connection in the case of adjuncts immediately following
• · a verb?
' £.'"'•~· ·
.
' ' § 132. When may adverbial, adjective, nnd hypoth etical clauses be used without
' ..J the comma ?

(

110

nious flow of the sentence, need not be cut off by the comma;
began this work two years ago at Rome."
§' 133. .A. participial clause that r elates to, and immedi ately follows,
the object of a verb, must not b e separated from it; as, " ·w c
companions borne daily to the grave."
§ 134. Vlauses that would otherwise b e set off by the comma, if sub- ·
divided into parts which require the use of this poiut, must be separated
by the semicolon, according to the rule in § 112, where an example is .· ·
given.

RULE

III.-RESTRICTIVE ADJ UNCTS AND

111

THE COlllMA.

THE COMlllA.

CLAUS ES.

§ 135. No comma must be placed between re strictive adjuncts or clauses (see§ 121) and that which they re strict; as,
" The eye of; Providence is con s~antly upon us."-" \Vh o can
resp ec t a man that is not governed by virtuous principles ?"
Vocative and causal clauses (see § 43) are never r estrictive, and ·
must, therefore be set off by the comma.

'

§ 136. Relative clauses introduced by the pronoun that, as well as
those in which the r elative is not expressed, are restrictive, and must .
have no comma b efore them; as, "Suspect th e man that cannot look
you in the eye."-" The day we celebrate is one of the proudest in our
national history." ·
§ 137. A r estrictive clause, however, must be set off by a comma,
when it r efers to several antecedents which are themselves separated by
that p oint; as, "There are many painters, poets, and statesmen, whom
chance has r ender ed famou s rather than merit."
§ 138. A rule of syntax r equires that a r estrictive
stand immediately after its logical antecedent; if, however, a sent~nce is
so loosely constructed as to have other words intervene between the antecedent and the r estrictivs clause, a comma should be placed before
the latter; as, " He can have no genuine sympathy for the unfortunate,
§ 133. In wliat case mny the comma be omitted beforo a pnrlicipinl clause?
§ 134. In what case <lo cs the semicolon take tho place of th e commn between .
clamcs?
§ 135. Repent Rule III., respecting restricti ve nujuncts nnd clnu ses. What clauses
are nevrr restrlcti ve? Ilow must they, therefore, be set ofl'?
§ 136. WhRt r elative clauses are restrictive, nnd must therefore hnvo no comma
before them ?
§ 137. In whnt case must n restrictive clause be set ofl' by n commn?
§ 138. What is th o proper position for a restrictive clause? If other words are In•
lroduced betw een tho clnuso and Its antecedent, whnt chnnge must be made in the
punctuation?

that has never been unfortunate himself." With its parts correctly ar~anged, this sentence requires no point; as, "He that has never been
unfortunate himself can have no genuine sympathy for the unfortunate."
§ 139. When there is a succession of res~rictive clauses relating to
the same antecedent,· they are separated from eacl~ other by commas,
~and the first must be set off from the antecedent by the same poi~t· :­
.as, "Countries, whose rules are prompt and decisive, whose people are
united, and whose course is just, have little to fear, even from more powerful nations."
§ 140. A comma is also generally placed before a restrictive clause
containing of which, to which, or for which, preceded by a noun; as,
"We have no sense or faculty, the use of which is not obvious to the
' reflecting mind."
.
§ 141. A participial clause is restrictive when the participle it contains can be exchanged for the r elative that and .a finite verb without
.injury to the sense. "A man discharging hi~ duty under trying circum1 stances is worthy of our confidence"; h ere, discharging is equivalent to
'that discharges, and the clause is r estrictive. In such a case, no comma
. must separate the clause from ihe antecedent, unless the principle embodied in § 137 applies.
~

EXERCISE.

/· In the following sentences, insert commas wherever requir·:ed by rule : UNDER § 127. But for this event the future liberator of Rome might
• have been a dreamer. -Thon sayest right barbarian. - Great poet as
Petrarch is he has often mistaken p edantry for passion. - When a people suffer in vain it is their own fault. - Happier had it been for many
·had they never looked out from their own heart upon the world. <What are good laws if we h ave not good · men to execute them 1Low though the v-oice the boast was h eard by all around. -Amazed at
'what had taken pln.ce the barons mechanically bent the knee. - Imfpatient to fini sh what he had b egun Cresar allowing his army no
1rest pushed forward to the capital. -Though neither honest nor eloquent the demngogue often controls the people. -To say the truth it
\Was a goodly company. - From this time forth no sound ·of merriment

. ·§ 189. State the principle that applies to a sµccesslon of restrictive relatlvo clauses
, frelat!ng to the same antecedent.
1
• ~ " ' § 140. What ts sn!<l of restrictive clauses containing of which, &c., preceded by ·.
• a noun?
separated
' § 14l. When i~ n participinl clause restrictive? In such a case, must it
:trom its antecedent?

-be

:f

112

THE COMMA.

THE COMMA.

113

136. Is there a heart that music cannot melt¥-Anger is a
that consumes the heart. -The evil that men do, lives after them.
' -The lan<l we liv e iu is on many accounts bound tu our h earts by the
strongest ties. - l'lleu are willing for the most part to overlook the faults
.of those they love.
·11 UNDER§ 13'7. There was no man, woman, or child that the tyrant
Nero did not h eartily hate. -The profligate man is a stranger to the in~ ".hocent social enjoyments, the gushing affections, anu sacred domestic
• pleasures which to the virtuous constitute a never-failing source of
•eatisfoction an<l contentment. -The Lydians, the Persians, and the .Ara·bians that wish to leave the army, are at liberty to do so.
ilie~~
~
~-· l,:.UNDE!l. § 138. An author cannot be readily understood who is unacUNDER § 129. Then the world l~st.cncd with plca~ 11rc to n:c rude ·
strains of the troubadour; now the div111c thoughts of the most gifted ge- .,
2 quainted with the art of punctuation. -All is not gold that glitters. niuses can hardly command its 1ittcution. - l l ere we hav e trnubles, ·
.Clauses must be set off by c0mmas which are introduced parenthetically.
pains, and partings; there w:e are allowed to look for nn uu b1:ok cn rest
...'...That man is not fit to be the head of a nation who prides himself on
the elevated pleasures of which (see § 140) no hcnrt can concc1vc.
·bemg the h ead of a party. (Punctuate the sentences in this paragraph
·a& tltey stand; then arrange them in their proper order, and point them acUNDER§ 130. P erhaps thcr~ is no mnu so n.ttcrly un.hap.py ~s the
,eordingly.)
useless drone. - I have seen this, and can therefore dcscr1 bo 1t with a~.
curacy. - Pythngorns malle many ~li scover~es in geometry .nnd n s~rono- .
·~ · UNDER§ 139. We should have r espect for the theories of a phllosomy also. - I can g.ive you some rnformatwn on the sul>J cct bcrn!? ti .
. .pher whose j ndgment is clear, whose le1J,rning is extensive, and whose
'reasonings nrc founded on facts even though his deductions may confarm er and a practical one too. - I was also there; you arc therefor~
·fliot with genernlly received opinions.
·
mistaken.
UNDER § 131. Th e love of life is deeply implanted in t he human
·~ f: UNDER § 140. Have no desire ft'- · a reputation the acquisition of
h eart. -To sum the matter up in a few words hi s hunJ is. ngni1! s.t every . ' _.which involves dishonesty or deceit. --The barometer is an instrument
man's. -A tree is known by its frui ts. - Banished from his nat.1vc coun- '
the usefulness of which to the navigator can hardly be overestimated. try .1Eschiues retired to Rhodes wh ere he opeucu a school of oratory
"A11 physicians tell us that dyspepsia is a disease the remedy for which
·'it is hard to find. - Napoleon had fl·om youth fix ed his eyes on a pinthat became famous throughout all Greece. . naele of greatness the path to which he knew was filled with tremen'Ib.e golden wain rolls round the silent North,
·
. dous obstacles.
An.d ear th is slumbering 'neath the smiles of h eaven.
t •
UNDER § 141. Those distinguished for honesty and activity rarely if
UNDER§ 132. You may go if you wish. - .We. fr equ:ntly meet .ene-.
ever in this land of business energy lack employment-This was to be
mies where we expect fri ends. - Colnmb~1s i;iamt:imed Ins theory with ti
iexpected in a country overrun with disbanded soldiers whose only
confidence which went far towards convrncrng l11s hearers. -All theseJ .
eo.ns of subsistence were theft and violcnce.-No person found guilty
thin"'S will have passed away a hundred years hence. -Satan goes , " of felony is allowed to hold office.-We cannot too much pity the lot of
abot~t like a r oarin g lion seeking whom he may devour.
;
. ·~child thrown at a tender age on the charities of the world.
·
UNDER§ 133. How many have seen their lilTection sli ghted nnd even
b etrayed by the ungrateful I - \Ve hear the good slandered every day.
- Alexander the Great had a large city built in honor of his favorite
h orse.
UNDER§ 134. During the fourte enth century Italy wns the Indi a of
a vast number of well-born but penniless adventurers w.ho had inflamed
LESSON XXII.
their imaginations by the ballads and legends of chivalry who fr?m ,
youth had trained themselve~ to, manage the .barb, and bear alike ·
THE COMMA (coNTINUED).
through summer's h eat and wmter s cold the weight of arms ~n.d who
passing into an effeminate and distracted land h ad only to exhibit bra·
very in order to command wealth.
RULE IV.-APPOSITION.
UNDER § 135. The quality of mercy is no~ strained.-:- How soft. the
9>b ( § 142. Single words in apposition and appositional c]auses
music of those village bells l - Good nature 1s a sun wluch sheds light
on all around. - He who is a traitor to his country is a serpent which
··must
be set off by the comma ; as, " The fate of Rienzi, the
j
turns to bite the bosom that warms it. - Mahomet always observ ed the
forms of that grave and ceremonious politeness so common in his country:

was ever heard in those lordly h alls; on the contrnry silence and gloom
hung over them like a pall. - N cverthelcss tho11gh you h ave ':ron&ed ,
me thus I inflict no ve11gcance. - When 1 Leenme a rnnn l l:uJ. aside
childish things. -Are ye Lewilder ed still 0 Honrnns l
UNDER § l28. Well .honor is the su bjcct of my story. - ~es it ?ft~il
happens that wh?n we get ?ut of the ~·en.ch ?f want ~e "arc Just _w1tl11~
the r each of avarice. -Aga111 one mans loss is sometim e~ another mane
gain. - Verily this is a troublous "'.orld. -Furth ermore we nre alwo.ys .
suspicious of a dec?it}'ul mau's motives. - ~ ay though.. the whole world
should do wrong this is no excuse for our oileuces. - brst let us look at

·UNDER §

~ fire

§ 142. Repent Rulo IV., respecting wor<ls In apposition nnd npposltlonal clnUlles.

'i

'l'HE CO:MMA.

114

'l'HE COMJIIA.

last of the Roman tribunes, shows the fickleness of an ignorant ·
populace."-" Darius, the king of the Persians."
::
§ 143. To this rule there are four exceptions.

115

EXAMPLES.

1."'To those who labor, sleep is doubl
I
',2. ' Of the five races ti C
. . y p easant.
:3 To all such ob·e' t.1e aucasbran is the most enlightened
•
, ~ c 1011s may e made
·
4., Whom he loveth, he chasteueth.
.
ln·the
.
1
d above examples ' we Iiave a r 11etorical
arrangement. the c
n.or er would be as follows. " SI
. d
'
om·
q pibor". "The C
.
. .eep is oubly pleasant to those
't
. . au.cas1 ~u Is the most eulightcned of the five races"
' a. JUS wntten, it will be seen that these sentences require no

omitted,
I. Between a proper uame and a common noun placed immediatelt
before or after it without an adjunct; as, "Darius the king"; "the
Altai Mountains"; "the River Rhine".
~
IL When a pronoun other than I is in apposition with a substan
tive which it in1n1 ctl iatcly precedes or follows; n~ , "Cicero h"
§ 145. The .comwa must be omitted in tiie io
" 11owrng
. cases:self"; "Ye mighty men of war".
. .
Ill. \\' hen the wonl in avposition or the clause in r1ucstion is 11cccssa.r! " -" L When th e tra11 •p("CJ nJjunct i!:l :;horL UJH.i clo
.
the ' verb· aR "·with th" I
.
sely connected with
to the iilea 11rcdicatcd, so that it canuot be left out without rendc
'
'
rs
am satisfieil " Jf I
·
1
danger of n rcn ,l•'r 'o rni-j ahJJ~ ll _ . · · .
10wever, t lcre i 3
i11g Lhe sc11sc incomplclc; as," Th" l"'nlil c r le 1·I r1l him pre.<i<lnit."ic "ca.,c "" JU Lh,; Lhinl
l
' ' 0
un d er§ 144, n <>omma must.be 111nccd nftcr the I i·
t
examp e
" He wnR chosen 11111pirr."-" J regard him as a. traitor."-" Who
1T'"Wh
'
l\ .J llllC •
his friends l'onsi (kr er1 un honr~t man." 111 the~e exnmples, it. alice~
~ ,....
en
the• trnnspo~c ,1 '·u1iunr•L
. .
. I
;,
•
-~
- · 0 1 c :msc rs llltro<luce<l b
Ii · .
are used to indicate the words and clauses in question; and, '8
It Is chrefly {,ltrough books that we hold .
y t ~s' as,
mtercourse with suerior miuds."
tlwy cannot. 1rn omitted w iLhout iujury to the sense, they are necet
rn ry to U1 c id c»l i11·e,liralc d , :111d 11111 ,d, 11uL !J<' sd off l1y t lie ro111m:1. .: "- Jl1.. 'When a YerlJ pr ce crl[iw ·1 .
.
·
. _,.
tran p d a·
,. , i .~ nnrn1nn
f1n; c<•mc;; inrnrelli:ttcly after Ure
IV. The comma is omitted between the parts of a compound proper·
•. s ose a uunct
or
clause.
as
"Dow11
f rom th'is towering p k
.
'
'
l_l9'll;l"e d a roanng torrent."
ea
name, when in their proper order; as, "The Rev. Samuel T. W
'
laston " ; " Marcus Tullius Cicero ".
• When the transposition consists in placin"' an b" t"
;.
~r "th tr . .
b
0 ~ec 1ve case with
_"When, however, the order is inverted, as 111 alphabetical lista '\l
1
ft;~~' ,~~il~: ~:~ ;:i~d; !~m;:~i:::~!, before the verb that governs
names, directories, &c., a comma must be inserted·
·~
G. "; " Lyle, Rev. S. Phillips".
,~,
RULE Vl.-LOGICAL SUBJECT.
When a title, either abbreviated or written in full, is annexed to
proper name, it must be set off by a comma; as, "Robert Horton, ~'.
A comma must be pl ace d a ft er t h e logical
.
""
subject
F. R. S."; "W. C. Doubleday, Esquire".
!
_sentence (see § 40) when it ends with
b
. , . '·

..

; iB .

I.•'

I,

I

1

1

RULE

V.-TRANSPOSED ADJUNCTS AND

CLAUSES. ~. ,

§ 144. When a transposition occurs, so that an adjunc_t
a clause which would naturally follow a verb is introdu:
before it, a comma is generally required to develop the s~ .
§ 143. How many exceptions are th ere to this rule? What Is the !l.rst, relat .
a proper name and common noun? What is the second, relating to pronouns?
is th e thira, relating to words and clauses n ecessary to the idea predicated? W
the fourth, relating to compound proper names? If the parts of the name are;
pose<l, what stop must be inserted? When a title is annexed to a proper "nam~
must it be set off?
, ' '. ,1'
§ 144. R epeat Rule V., relating to transposed adjuncts nnd clauses. Wb
natural order is restored, what chaugo Is necessary in the punctuation?

•t

a ver , or when it

f

~ s o several parts which are themselves separated b

~f!St j

as,
". Those • who persevere' succeed • " - " T.''tZe worly
of"
d
teniptation, and of pleasure, allures thee "

e,y, 0

e ~~ject of this rule is to enable the eye readil t
.
."
'. C!llol-~ubject is. In the last example if th
y o perceive what
· · 'tt d
·
'
'
e comma after pl
J!'.!l _ e 'a false impression would be couveyed
't
easure
e~word
d '" l
, as 1 would seem
-;x;
s· an oJ P easure were more close!
'Gllf;!rea than the rest of the subiect - wh " I
connected with the
·~ ·
·
" '
1c l 1s not the case.

!

l•

,,. In what four cases mny the comma be omltt d ..

. A clauses?

e m the case of transposed ad-

':W:bat
'b Is meant by the logical sub"~ec t of a sentence ? R
tR
IU ~ects. What i8 the object of this rule?
.epea u1e VI., relating

'

l

I( ;
\

.i"

THE C01\IMA.

116

-

-

./

'l'lIE COllllllA.

117

§ 14'7. A comma after the logicnl subject is, nlso, sometimes necest/

1

Thus in the sentence "Ile who pursues
. "t
sary to preven t am b 1gm Y·
·'
. ,, . '. .
.
ll
pleasure only defeats the object of his crcnt1011, it is H~pos~1blc to.~~
. whether only modifies pleasnre or defeats. If the mcanlllg is tlliabt . e,,
.
. 1· f t &c .," a, comma sh onlt • e dm•J'
who pursues no th mg but P1cnsm c cc ca ·8,
scrte<l after only; if not, we should hnve one after pleasure. The 1ca er

EXERCISE.

: Insert in the following sentences whatever points are required by the rules that have been given.

"· UND~R § 142. lllnhomet left Mecca a wretched fugitive he returned
!- merciless conqueror - A professed Catholic he imprisoned the Pope a
should not b e left in doubt.
.
pretended patriot h e impoverished the country-The' Scriptures those
§ 148. A comma, followcll by a dash , is generally plnccd nflcr a l~g1-~ .
lively oracles of Oocl contain the only auth entic records of primeval
iiges - I Nclrnchaclnczzar king of the Jews wake this decree -Aristides
. t hen it consists of scvcrnl parti culars separated by scm1c°:
cal su b~ec w
<l c fj Ill·lcnc~s, ti, icwords•.. · the just Athc11ia11 if! one of the noblest characters in Grecian historyr
Lhc
sul·c
of
"'!'cater
fo
lons, or by commas, w J1cD,
·'
b.
• .
•
b r .
·Richard I the Lion-hea rted - Charles the Bald king of France - We
. the Jil·c rcfcrrrng to the pn1 l1culms e1ore,,
,
1
all, th ese, a ll t1icse, suc11, 01 ·
·b . ;
•
•
' '
111.w him tyrant of the East
1
ted are introduced as the immediate subjcct of the ve1 ' as,
• .· UNDER § 143. The River Volga and the Ural Mountains form accordenumera '
.
t
d.
t
b
misunderstood,
mis~
.
"To be overlooked, sl1ghtcc1, and neg1cc e ' o e
.
. ,
ing to some geogrnphers the boundary between Asia and Europe- We
humble men may u<lmire the great if we can not equal them -John
r e resented, and slandered; to be trampletl under foot by the .envious,[
.Howard Payne the author of "Home, sweet home" and Samuel WoodP.. . t
d tlie vile. to be crushed by foes, and to be distrusted]
t 11e 1g1101 an , an
'
f
· "
.worth who composed "The old oaken bucket" occupy a prominent place
en by friends -such is too often the fate o gcmus. ' '
an d b et ray ed ev
•
.,4
among Americ{ln poets - It has been said that if all the learned and
acientific men of every nge could meet in a deliberative assembly they
RULE VIL-ABSOLUTE WORDS AND CLAUSES.
.R
:,would choose Sir Isaac Newton for their president- With modesty your
guide, reason your adviser, and truth your controlling principle, you
§ 149. Absolute participial clauses, and subs_ta~t.ives in th~r, ~rar ely have r eason to be ashamed of your conduct- Herodotus is
clllled the father of profane history - 'J.11ese grumblers would not have
. t"
bsolute with their adjuncts and 111111tmg words,
nomma ive a
. r. ll
th
eonsidered Cresur Jumself a good general - Henry F. Witherspoon
must be set off by the comma i as, " Rome having J a -~n, .~
,jiµrior LL D
world relapsed into barbarism."-" 1-fis conduct on tliis occa·
'-1 UNDER § 144. At the talents and virtues of all who hold different
mews from their own certain partisan writers arc accustomed to sneer.
a·
f
1
.
t
was
I " - " y cs sir."-" And thou
swn, how isgrace u l
·
'
\
Of all the passions vanity is the most unsocial - To love many a soldier ·
on the point of realizing liis dreams of glory sacrifices the opportunity
too Brittus ! "
~ome absolute pn.rticipin.l clauses lmve the p~rticiple understood, but, ofso doing - Whether such a person as Homer ever existed we can not
aay- How the old magicians performed their miracles it is difficult
must notwithstanding, be punctuntecl nccordmg to the above rul~
to ·explain - That riches are to be preferred to wisdom no one will
Thu: , in the following Jines, though being is left out nfter steeds and fOJ:
openly assert
· UNDER § 145.
With a crash fell the severed gates - On me dethe clauses must be set off by the comma:.Q
rolves the unpleasant task - In memory's twilight bo.w ers the mind
"\Vin<Yed with his fears, on foot he strove to fly,
)o:ves to dwell - It is only by constant effort that men succeed in great
b
• 1 "
His steeds too distant, nnd the foe too mg l.
undertakings -To the poor we should be charitable -To the poor men
iibould be charitable - History we read daily-At the bottom of the
150. The secoml example under Rule :VII. il~ustratcs a constru
JillI ran a little stream - In Plnto's garden congregated a crowd of ad. § dmissible in poetry but not to be imitntcd m })rose. It. s~oul
t 10n a
lb,iring puxiils - Respecting the early history of Egypt little is known'
·
· J " As or1gmall
rend " How disgraceful was his conduct on t 1us occasion
. .,
~uivocat10n I despise truth and honor I respect - It is chiefly by congive~, it may be punctuated with either n comma or a, tlash nfter c>ecas;,,,
tit practice and close attention to correct models that one learns to
ffipose with ease nnd elegance -This he denied
t'
s nccc«ary after tho lo"ical sn
is a comma some im c
.' ' . •
"
'
, UNDER § 14G. The miracles that llloses performed may have con§ 147. On whnt other acconnt
h
h0
comma prevents nmb1gmty.
~ced Pharaoh but at first they humbled not his pride - Every impure,
j ect? Illustrate this, n~d s ow
~ ~owed by a dash plnccd aflcr a logical snbjectt
,angry, revengeful, nnd envious thought is a violation of duty - The evil
§ 148. !Rn wbnttRcalse vi\~ c~:i::;~go to absolute worcls nnd clnnscs. What is someti~!I
that men do lives after them - Whatever breathes lives ~The boldness
§ 149
cpea
u0
.,
"
r
tuaUna•
'
.
.
.. .- inl clause? Does this clrnngc th e m oue o pnnc
".
Cil~these J?redictions, the apparent proximity of their fulfillment, and
omitted from a pa1 ti cip
§ 149 ? What Is said re•pccting such co
§ 150. wbnt Is tho second examp1c 1n
·
{
e imposmg oratory of the preacher struck awe into the hearts of his

"'';ructions?

•

J

'

;,

J
~\

r:

120

•r1rn COMMA.

THE COMMA.

and Sorrow sit."-" 'frust not an ungrateful
daughter.''
§ 157. The words, however, referred to in the preceding paragraph
must be separated by the comma, if one is limited by a word or worda
which might be erroneously applied to both; as, "I have seven bra~e
sons, and daughters."
'
§ 158. A comma must be used before conjunctions, when they con~
nect two words contrasted, or emphatically distinguished from eaoh
other; also, before the adverb not, used without a conjunction b etween
contrasted terms ; as, "Charity both gives, and forgives."-" Liberal,
not lavish, is kind Nature's hand."

'!
I

>';

n ULE

x.::__Equ1v ALENTs.

§ 159. A comma must be placed before or, when it intro-:
duces ari equivalent, an explanatory word, or a clause defining
the writer's meaning; as, "Autography, or the art of dcte·,
mining a person's character from his handwriting, is coming
into vogue."-" Herodotus was the father of history, or rath~'
of profane history."

.

,•

§ 160. In double titles of books, a semicolon is generally placed
before or, and a comma after it; as, "Fascination; or,
Charming".

RULE

Xl.-Ol\!ISSION OF WORDS.

§ 161. ·when, to avoid repetition, and, or, nor, or
previously used, is omitted, a comma takes its place.
EXAMPLES.

1. In what sch ool did the W ashingtons, Henrys, Hancocks, Fra •
lins, and Rutledges, of America, leam the principles of civil liberttl
(AND is here omitted after the first three proper names r espectively.) ,
2. The merciful man will not maim an insect, trample on a worm,
cause an unnecessary pang to the humblest of created things. (0)1·
omitted after insect.)
.
·~·
3. In the well-trained heart, neither envy, jealousy, hatred, nor ·
venge, finds a resting-place. (Noa is omitted after envy and jealousy.)
!) 1[>7. In what cnso must th e words just referred to hnve n comma between

the~

§ 158. State the principle that applies to conj nn ctions connecting contrasted wor41:
§ 159. Repent Rnlo X., relating to eqnivalents.
§ 160. llow arc double titles of books to be punctuated
§ 161. Repent Rulo XI., r!'lnting to tho omission of words. Give examples,
tho om issions, nml stnto whnt point must bo lnscrtod.

..

121

) t:.t,. Conversation makes
a ready man · writing an exact m
..
'
'
an.
kes is
..t..h
e l
ast memb
er ma
omitted, and a comma takes its place.)

(In

!; § 1~2: When this rule is followed, the clauses or members in which
. the Oilllss10n occurs must be separated by semicolons. When, however,
the clau~es are very short, the style is lively, and the connection close,
the comma may be employed to set off the clauses or members and no
poin~ .need be used in the place of the om,itted comma. as "men the
. eot smgs the prnise~ of sob'.·i~ty, the miser of generosit~, ·the coward of.
val?r, and tl'.e atheist of religion, we may easily judge what is the sincerity of their professions."

.,.,

RULE

XII-LAST OF A SERIES.

< '.

§ 163. A comma must be plac~d before and, or, and n·or,,.,
. he~ they connect the last of a series of clauses, or of a sue- :
cession of wor~s that are the same part of speech and in the
s.
ame construction. See Examples I , 2 , 3 , unde r R u1e XI.
, j . .
EXERCISE.

following sentences whatever points are re'\ ·UNDER.§ 151. Anger glances into the breast of a wise man but it
,rests only rn the Losr~~ of fools -The island ou which the cit of New
:York stands. wa? ?r1g111ally bought from the Indians for h!ent -four
dollars whe1eas.1t is now valued at three hundred million- Week fol~o:wed ;veek ur.1t1l at .last Columbus and his followers were thousands of
es f10m the1.r native shore - Bad men are constant! in search of
IOme new excitement
that .their minds may be d'1vert eyd from t h e re.
di
·
Proach es of conscience - Scrnnce is constantly m ki
!While ignorance and prejudice refuse to receive th ng nl ewd scovderies
e
ft
'
t
t
th
.
ose
a
rea
y
ma
e
_
Lov
,
ies ou a
e wrndow :vhen poverty comes in at the door-The
~ves of men sl~oul.d be filled with beauty just as the earth a d h
are clothed with it
n
eavens
· · .UNDER § .152. Hono~n.ble peace is better than uncertain war- It is
t;asier to excite the pass10ns of a moh than to calm them_ ·w hat in"u
W k'
~ s,tice that the new world was not called after Columb
whether to-morrow's sun will find us alive - Sh 11 us;- teth now not
,' . I t
I .
'
a we iorge
at truth
';mg i:y - . t is a ~trang~ fact that man alone of living things d r hts
_causmg p a m to !us specrns
e ig
,. UNDER § 153. Tnke care lest the spoiler come
The f: JI'
I
~d us beware le"t
fi
ff ·
a mg eaves
"' we x our a · ect10ns too firmly on the things of earth
§ 162. When this rul e is followed, by wbnt point must tb
I
b
. t exception is there?
e c auscs e sep~rated 7

S168,

Repeat Uulo XII., rolnt!ng to the Inst of a sorics of clauses

6

.

'

122

THE COMMA.
'l'Hl!J COMMA.

- 'Ve should have a care lest sinful pl easures se<lnce us with thoir mani·
123
fold temptations -Beware lest they suddenly fall upon thee
.~ .
: . UNDER § 162. Without books ·u t'
.
18
UNDE R § 154. The great astronomical clock of Strasburg is twenty;, ·
~terature dumb nn<l nil thirigs ~ s .ice
do~·munt philosophy lnme
!D0 desty .beauty is ungraceful J a~ e. mvo1ved m . darkness - Without
four feet high er than the tallest of the Egyptian pyramids and one huni
dred and forty feet h igh er than St. Paul's in London - Cicero was supe;
JDg- Pride goeth before de'tr~~~!ung
1011 u~attrachve and wit disgustrior to Demosthenes in the fini sh of his p eriods but inferior to him in'
faU-Talent is surrounded wltl 1 d
an a haughty spirit before a
1 U
angers and beauty 'th t
.
energy and fire -The fool neither knows whether h e is right nor car~,
'
NDER ~ 163. Mahomet th e ~
d 1
wi
emptat10ns
whether he is wrong-The world hns gain ed wisdom from its yea~
r_ork ;vith 11i? own lrnnds he kin~~~d ct ~ offi ~slamism d~d not h esitate to
and is quick to peneGrate disguises -The brave man will conquer
~d milked lus ewes and camels me d e . 1e swept his room made his
perish in the attempt
~.
__ sword-So cngerly tl 1e Fielld o'<'r ~ r~d h~s stockrngs and scoured l1is
UNDER .§ 155. Study discinlines the mind and mal.urcs th e J'udg:
4~nse or rare with h ead l1 and 8 ,· JJ 0 01 steep .through strait rough
f
<';'
'
"rngs or feet pur:nies his way
ment- Virtue should be the a rm of our youth nnd the solace of our de.
Suns moons and star~ 1111
(I J •
•
TI.oc lrn mountain
· .c1 c1ou ~ ns ~i.~f crs w ere
clining years - Years come and go - Galileo r caLl or wrolc th e g r cater ~&~r
par t of t h e night - Here si t we down and rest - H ow sweetly and.;
His brothers
s mctcois sens au<l w rnds alld storms
solemnly sound the evening chinH'S
UNDER§ 156. The bold man does not. hesilate Lo t.akc a posilion and
maintain it-Adams and Jefferson died by a singular coi11cidence July
4 1826 - The magnitude of the h eavenly bodies and their almosL
- .infini te distance from i.is fill our minds with views at once magnificeni
and sublime
UNDER~ 157. I woke an<l thought upon my dream- With the nid,I~~
of the t elescope )Ve discern in the moon vast yaw ning pits and hug~i
LESSON
volcanoes sending forth th eir awful fir es - In the baza:.t r way Le seen
tons of ice an d vast quantities of ivory from Africa -The relative pro.
noun who is applied to persons and things personified
THE COMMA (CONTINUED).
UNDER § 158. Bear and forbear - Brave not 1·ash is the true
hero - He is not a fool but only foolish - Remember the favors yo
HULE -1.XIII
r eceive not those you confer - The credulous may believe this won:
·
. -COMMON CO NNEC T ION.
d erful story not I - It is as great a sin to murder one's self as to murder
another
'
i § 164. lVh en two or mor e antecedent portions of a scn-

1

or·

....___

xxrv.

U NDER§ 159. The period or full stop denotes tho cn<l of a comple .
sentence - R epublics show little gratitude to their great men or rath
n one at all- H ence originated philosophy or the love of wisdom-.A\,
this point the lake is ten fathoms or sixty feet deep - The Marquis of
Anglesea or as he was then called Lord Paget lost a leg at the battle
of Vf aterloo
" "
UNDER § IGO. (Besides punctuating the followin,q sentences, itse ca
itals wherever required by \:i 65.) We h ave just finish ed r eading"
month s in the gold-diggings or a miner's experience in eldorado "-A:1
new book of travels h as just made its appearance entitled "The ei
of the doges or venice and the venetians in the nineteenth century" '.
UNDER § 161. Study makes a learned man exp eri ence a wise one
Rapid exhaustless deep his numbers flow ed - Let your pleasure
moderate seasonable rnnoeent, and b ecoming (comm.a after INNO +
accordin g to § 163)- Mahomet's Paradise consisted of pure waters shad
groves luscious fruits and exquisite houris -The au thor dreads ·
cri tic th e mi ser the thief the criminal t he nrng istrate an d every bo9
public opinion - My h ead is filled with clew my locks with the droiof the night - Benevolence is allied to few vices selfishness to fewer
virtues
,'

~~ce

have a common connection with some s uc cce din

clause
g .
""·ll h
t cacu ' as "She is as
t "I' ' t ough not so handsome, as her sister.,,
'

p~ word, a comma must be placed afte.

i.

•

Commas arc frequentl .
· d
.
oeitions
. .
y I eqmre ' under tlus rule, after different pre P
govcrnrng the same substantive; as, " The ' are .litte .
'
~fustomed to, very different modes of life."
.}
d for, and
"', In the case of a series of adjectives preceding th .
'~laced ~fter each but the last ; and there genera~1~:0un,ba comma .
.
• ge, y an unphilosophical anomaly, requires us to omit th
..._,,,. t
d'
e pomt. as "A q . k
W'llilan , stu wus learned man" . Tl .
.
. '
'
u1c '
._
"
.
•
u s usage v10Iatcs one of th f d
,eptal principles of punctuation ; it indicates vcr im
e un a-

0~~;0u;. 11~~n

f~:~e~hj 1 t~~:

is mAore closely connected wi th lea;ned
a uec ivcs.
nalogy and perspicuity r equire
f·
tcUrned.
a comma n ter

L

'. §164. R epeat llul e X III., relatin g to common connection

.

rpeech are commns frcqn cntly rcrp1ired nnd cr this n 1. ? IV! . After what part of
ea..e of a series of adj ectives precctling th eir ll onn ? 1We 11 t . rn~ nsnge .prevail s in the
•
11 i s sn1d of tlus usage ?

125

'l'HE COMM.A.
·rHE comtA.

124

RTJJ_JE
t.

XIV.-WORDS IN PAlltS.

~

"'il

each side of the words introduced b etwe~n its pai·•"",· as, "
aays :1'J'anklin, "is worth two to-morrows." '

i

165. ·words used in pai.rs take a comma after each pair
as, " 'rhe dying man cares not for pomp or luxury, palace or
estate, silver or gold."-" Ignorant and superstitious, cunning .
and vicious, deceitful and treacherous, the natives of this
11
island arc among the most degraded of m:mkind."
1·.
.
·~

RULE

XV.-WORDS REPEATED.

§ 166. Words repeated for the sake of emphasis must be ·
set off, with their adjuncts if they have any, by the commaj
as, "Verily, verily, I say unto you."
§ 167. If, however, the repetition is al>rupt, proceeds fr om hesitation,
or is accompanied with 11 break in the sentiment, a dash may be used;
as, " He has gone to his r est--gone, to return no more."
i

RULE

XVI.-THE INFINITIVE :rirooD.

§ 168. A comma must be placed before to, the sign of the
infinitive mood, when equivalent to in order to; as, " Cicer9
sent his son to Athens, to complete his education."

RULE

XVII.-QUOTATIONS AND OBSERVATIONS.

§ 1G9. The comma mt.I.st set off quotations, passages re·
sembling them in form, and observations in general, when;
shor t and not formally introduced ; as, " It -was Bion ,that
first .said, 'Know thyself.'"- '' I would here call attention .to
the fact, that nature has endowed the body with rccupcrativ6
•
faculties, which often enable it to rally and recover from proi!'
tration when science has exhausted all its remedies in vain.''
·when formally iutroclneed by the words these, following, or as Ji
lows, a colon must precede the quotation.
§ 170. 'When a quot11tion is divided, a comm11 must be
§ 1G5.
§ lGG.
§ 1G7.
§ lGS.
§ 169.

Rcpcflt Rulo XIV., relating to words used in pairs.
Repeat Rtile XV., relating to wonls repcnlccl.
In what cfl~c may a <lash be uscll instead of a commri?
Repent Rul e XVI., relating tu tbe infinitive mood.
Repent Rule XVII., relating to qnotlilions. When formnlly introduced, b
what point is the quotntion preceded?
·

RULE

one to-day,"

XVIIL-coRRELATIVE TERMS.

,;.. § 171. M~mbei:s of sentences, containing correlative adv.erbs and conJunct10ns, are separated by the .comma; ·as, "The
harder we s~udy, the better we like to study."-" As a cloud
~rkens , the ~ky, so sorrow casts a gloom over the soul."
1.. § 172. The comma, however, is generally omitted in the case of so-.!hat, so--as, rather-than, and more- than, especially when the parts
they connect 11re clauses and not members · unless tlie relnte'd
ts
ta'
bd" · ·
'
u
par conm su iv1s1ons separated by the comma, in ~hich case the same point
must be placed before the last correlative term.

'.i.

EXAMPLES. -

1. He is so exhausted that he cannot work
1 So act 11s to gain the r espect of men.
·
• 8. The .Laplan~l e r woulJ rather live in his own land than 11n other
}'.. ,Mdarie .Antomette was more amiable in her life than fortu!ate in ·her
1
1, ~ eat 1,

..-

1* He is. so unwell, weak, and exhausted, th11t he cannot work.
re~pect of men.
however, would rather live in his own I

i: So thrnk, speak, and ac t, as to gain th(;;

a. The
Laplander,
any other.

d th
an , an
4. ·llfarie Ant~inettc, queen of Fmnce, was more amiabl · h i:~ th
' fortunate m h er death.
e m er llJ.e, an
l .J .
<1. '
RULE XIX.-AMBIGUOUS CONSTRUCTIONS.

- §173 .. A comma mu~t be used, even when not required by the
grammat10al construct10n, wherever it serves to develo the
or prevent ambiguity.
P

se~se

. 1Thus, aftrer a long logical subject, 11 comma is of service· as "That 8
and who has ever sine: b:en in the
~bit o: eomp~smg eoulu m11ke so gross a mistake through ignorance is
almost mcrcd1ble."
'
>'-•
, ; Cases in which the comma prevents ambiguity have been noticed
IU?der several of the foregoing rules.

ma~ thoroughly_ educated in youth

S170.

What is ~he m~de of punctuflting, when fl quotation Is divided?
§ 171. Repeat J,ulc XVIII., rclnt.ing to correlntir e terms.
.. § 172. In the case of what correlatives is the comm!\ generally omitled?
llowever, do they take It?
W!Jen,

I 173. R~peat Rule XIX., r elating to ambigu1Jus constructions.
rule, where is a comma of service?
Accordi11g to this

RULE

X X . -NUMBERS EXPRESSED BY FIGURES.

§ 17 4. Except in the case of dates, numbers written in Ara·
bic characters take a comma after each period of three figures, ,:
beginning at the right; as, " In 1846, the planet Neptune waii
discovered, and found to be at a distance of 2,900,584,000
miles from the sun."
Dates must always be expressed by figures. So must large numbers; ·
when many words would be required to denote them. Otherwise, as in ·
the case of-round numbers, and always for small ones, words are to be., 1~­
employed. Thus: "Venus is, in round numbers, sixty-five million miles \
from the sun; its exact distance is 65,392,000 miles."-" ·w e leave the ;
ninety-nine sheep that arc safe, to look after the one that is lost."
EXERCISE.

Supply the points omitted in the following sentences.

,,. .

UNDER§ 164. The spirit of liberty must change it is fast changing '.
the face of the earth -The world at this moment is rc>gar<ling us with ·
a willing but something of a fearful .admiration :-The literature of a na· •,
tion is one of its highest and certamly one of its most r efined elements~ .
of greatness-He who lacks decision of cl~aracter may win !,J~e love ~ut :
he certainly cannot gain . the resl?ect of lns fellow men- 'Ihrs doctrme ;
is founded upon and consIStent with the truth
UNDER§ 165. These shores rough. and cold bar~arous and barren de-•
void of comforts and even necessaries peopled with fierce beasts and .
fiercer savages b ecame their home - Sink or swim ~urvi V? or verish I
am for the Declaration - Vicissitudes of good and evil of tnals and con·
solations of joy and sorrow of clo?-d and sunshine fill up the life of ~an- •
I M take thee N to my wedded wife t? liave and to Ii.old .from this d~y ,
forward for better for worse for rich er for poorer m srckness and m •.
h ealth to love and to ch erish till death us do part
'
U NDER § 166. Lend lend your wings I mount I fly- Quit oh quit this
mortal frame - Speak not harshly speak not harshly to th~ orph!!;n'e
tender heart- Charge charge on the crave~1s - Some shriek shr~ek1
madly in the whirling gulf-He swam the Tiber unhurt unhurt ah~~ .
by his fall and the weapons of the enemy
<I··,
UNDER§ 167. Dust dust thou art vile and d~shonored dust-pie ·:·
tyrant slept slept but rested not- ·we have promised we have pr:om1sed,.
but recollect under certain restrictions-I fear I fear that he will play:
you false - You thin~ him hap}Jily situ~ted hapJ~ily situated.. witl~ a con·
science that allows him no rest a conscience wluch keeps !us evil deeds "
constantly b efore his eyes
•t
§ 174. Repeat Ruic XX., relnting to numbers expressetl by figures.
dates nlways bo expressed? Row, large numbers? Round numbers?
numbers?

127

'l'HE COMM.A.

'!'HE COMMA.

126

, UNDER§ .168. The peol?le .of :Mayenee to show their gratitude to Gut. '· tenberg the mventor of prmtrng have erected in his honor a magnificent
.,; statue wrought by t~e sculptor Thorwalclsen-Tyrants when reason and
argument make agmnst t4em have recourse to violence to silence their
opponents - H e comes to h eal the sick and set the captive free- Oh
:'· .:~;hl had the wings of the morning to flee to the uttermost parts of the
. , \"' ~NDE~ ~ lH!l. A poet aptly asks" What will not men attempt for
snc1ed prn1se -Let the thought be deeply engraved upon your heart
' ,that w:ery moment wl~ich fiies is irrecoverably lost-The schoolmen of
· t~e Middle Ages .°?cup1ed themselves with discussing the important ques·
~ion whether sp1_r1ts can _move from one place to another without pass,. mg thro~~h the mterv?m?~ space~ Let our fixed resolve _be liberty or
death- I he truth of Swifts assert10n that no man ever wished himself
,, younger may well be questioned
" UNDER § 170. "Liars" says Aristotle "are not believed even when
they speak the tl'uth " - An ll;ngel's arm" says the poet Young "can't
snatch me from the grave; leg10ns of angels" he adds with equal truth
· tt" can't confine me ther~" - With 'Yhat motive it may be asked did
Chatterton commence l11s course of imposture For pecuniary profit I
' answer or pcl'haps for the pleasure of deceiving the world
' r,f.. UNDER § 17 !· Neither can wealth make a bad man respectable nor
·" can poverty SH~k a worthy person below the station his virtues deserve
;~ :-.As thy ~a:y- is so shall th.)'. stren~th be- Whether Jansen is entitled
, ~ · the m~d1v1d ed honor ?f ~nve~1ting the t elescope or :Metius had pre; v10~sly d~seovered the prmc1ple rnvolved in that instrument is a subject
., . ~:scuss10n among the learned -Though he slay me yet will I trust in
'' ~'. : UNDER§

172. They now live more happily than ever-They now
. live more r cspectn:biy comfortably and h appily than ever-Catiline
.was so overcome with shame that he could not speak- Catiline was so
vercome.with shame disa~pointment and anger that he could not speak
:-The h1st?ry of the Umtcd States shows a more rapid advance in
P?Wer and 1mpo1:tance than has ever been made by any other nation.Cicero was as vam as h e was eloquent
·· ' UNDER § 17 3. To assume that a person is guilty of an offence because
pearances happen to be. agains~ him is manifestly mtjust-The author
' o these 'Profound and ph1losoph1cal essays on the abstract questions of
,Mor~l .Ph1lo~ophy .was. a poor blacksmith - Men who have no desire to
. .pnrt1c1~ate ~n the foct10us quarrels and personal animosities which now
· .unhappily distract the land are rudely dragged into the arena of politics
. -:-}3ooks and study only teach the proper use of books
rfi.., UN~ER § 1?4. In 1800 the poJ?ulatio? of the city of New York .was
,60489 m 1850 it was 515597 showmg an mcrease durmg this lapse offifty
•,Years of 455108 souls- In 1850 the debt of the state of New York
a~o.unted to $22850053 w e may call it in round numbers twenty-three
millions of dollars-The comet of 1811 had a diameter of at least 560000
.~eographical miles ancl a tail eighty-eight millions
miles in length

·.af

o!

)

128

THE COMJllA.

THE COMMA.

.J : In the first sentence, Romans is the grammatical subject of-wore and
.the parenthetical participial clause between these words must be s~t off
by a. comma on .e~ch side. In the second, Romans, being used absolute-

LESSON XXV.
THE

129

ly with the participle having conquered, must not be separated from it by
. a c?mma, but this point must be reserved for the termination of the
~!J.tire absolute clause.

COMMA (coNTINUED).

§ 175. As the rules for the comma arc num erous anJ more

"

.CAUT~ON V. When you are in doubt as to the propriety
difficult of application than those relating to the other points,
of
.msertrng
commas, omit them; it is better to have too few
it has been thought best to illustrate them with n, miscella·
,.than
too
many.
neous exercise, which will bring before the studcut's mind, in
connection, all the cases in which this poiut is required. Cau- ·
MISCELLANEOUS EXERCISE.
tions are first presented, for the purpose of warning the stu· /
Supply such points as are 11cecssary in the followinlJ' sen·
dent against errors which the author has found tlw,t the inex· ~~~
tences : b
pcricnccJ arc most likely to m:i.kc.
r UNDER RuLE I. J!!ducation if it c.annot accomplish every thing can
CAUTION I. Do not suppose thut a sentence, simply because
.. neve:tI'.eless accomplish much -Aclull es unquestionably was a uissant
it is long, must contain a comma. U nbrokcn connection be·
warr10i but. had 1.1 ot .th e poetry of Homer immortalized his · lame he
,.wou.ld ~1ow m all l~k cli hood have been as little known as the meanest
tween the parts of a sentence, no mutter how long it muy be, .
..soldier m the G r ccian host
precludes the use of this point. Thus : " It is bard for tho se
.
UNDE 1t, !lULE II. B,v all that you hold clear on earth Jistcm to m
who pride themselves on the greatness of man to believe that
·prayer- .Io accompli sh these ends h e left no means however insignil
cant untried - If I were not Alexander I would be Diogenes - I f forthose mighty cities which were once the wonder and a<lmira· .
tune has played t!1ec false to-clay do thou play true for thyself to-mortion of the ancient world could so entirely have disappeared
row-N ever be d1scourngccl however gloomy the prospect
that their position is now a subject of discussion among '
~· UND ER RuLF; III. I!1 cv.ery line of Dante's" Divine Come<ly" we discernr the ~spcnty wluch. 1s produced by pride struggling with misery
scholars and antiquaries."
- \.'. e designate as th e mmd that part of us which feels knows au cl thinks
.-A. man renown ed fo.r repartee often sacrifices the feelings of his friends
CAUTION II. Do not insert a comma between a grammati·
. to l~1s attempts at wit-The means by which men acquire glory are
cal subject and its verb, when the one immed iately follows the
,various
other. A rhetorical pause is, in this case, sometimes required
\..
UND E!1 RuL;: IV. Hail Patience blest source of peace ble~t cure for
;. every p:un :- Sisters and broth.ers how many may you be- Were I even
before the verb; but n, comma, never.
~ declared k11,17 or elected preSJC~ent of such a n·a twn I should esteem it
CAUTION III. There must be no comma before and, when
! ~o honor- lhe !?euealogy
prmces the fiel'd-book of conquerors history
Y;lB well wot-thy of our attention
it connects two words only ; as, " A prospel·ous and happy
' • UNDER RULE V. Among the noblest attributes of a virtuous man is juscountry".
tic.e- Ovor the matc!1less talcn.ts of '.Vashingtou probity threw h er
,bngh f.esL lu ~ l r e- or 111fa11cy eli ilJltuuJ Luj·hood. and VOl;th w h
CAUTION IV. Observe the <l.iiference of punctuation in sen·
·
'l'I inn p 1ensures
,
b een d 1.sco'.1rsmgexnggerated promisesJ nothing ecanave
be
tences like the following : - .
more allurrng to youth

or

The Romans, having conquered the world, were unal>lc to
themselYes.
.
Tlie R omans h avi ng conquered the· world, freedom of thought and ·
action became .extinct.
§ 175. Wbnt is snid of th e rul es for ,(be comma? Whnt ls tho s nhstnnco of Cautinn
I.? of Caution II. ? of Cnution III.? of Cauli<>n IV.? ol' Cuntion V.?

UNDER lluLE VI. All that liv e must die-Apostles prophets and martyrs hav e provc<l the trnt.h ~f the Christian faith -All the rules of elo...-quence the p;ecept s of philosophy and the refined conversation of
1
• ~thens to."Wlucl.1 place ho wa.~ se n~ by his father for the completion of ·
his edncaL10n foiled to mn ke Cicero s son nn orator or a man of talentr-rWorlcls above around beneath and on all sides arch th ee about us 11
centre
1

..

I
130

UNDER RuLE VII. The ship having left h er wha1:f ~ snlute was fi;ed ·
from the shore - A habit of indolence on ce form ed it is extremely difficult to shake it off-The campaign thus fairly opened bot h parties prosecuted the war with unprecedented vigor- Ye men of Rome shake off
your sloth
' ·.
UNDER Ru LE VIII. The sun sets but he will rise again~ We obey ·
the laws of society because it is expedien.t to do so -Art is long but
time is fleeting- Great poets are rare ~lnle empt:r rl.1yn;~ster;i can be
counted by thousands -Must we subrmt to such rnd1g!llt1es m order
that we may have enough to eat
UNDER RuLE IX. ]',fan wants but little h ere b elow nor wnnts that little long - Sincerity is as valn_able as kno_wledgc and on some accoun~
more so - Cunning and avarice may gam an estate but ca_n not gam _
fri ends - 'Ve are naturally inclined to praise those who prli1se us and ·1
to flatter those who flatter us
UNDER RuLE X. English Grmnmar or t~1c m:t of speaking and writing the English lang uage correctly cannot .m this country be too much
studied -The Persians or rather the survivors of them retreated from
the field of battle with all possibl~ d~spatch - Young. ladi~s' seminaries
or as they were formerly called girls schools abound rn tlus part of the
country
UNDER RuLE :XI., XII. Modern times with all their boasted progress
have never produced as strong a r:i~n.as Samson as i;ieek a man as Moses
or as wise a man as Solomon -Life is short unsati sfactory and uncertain - Men women and children stare cry out and run - C::csnr cnme
saw and conquered
UNDER RuLE XIII. Deeds not words are the proper tests by which to
try a man's charnctcr - ·who is so b eautiful wh? so gracc~;1l as the maid
of Lodore - I b eg of you b eware of and .avoid the ev11-doer-:- How
sweet the voice how blessed the words of hnn who offers consolation to
the mourner
UNDER RuLE XIV. Poverty and di s~rcss cl~solntion an cl. ruin arc .the
consequences of civil war - Virtue \viLhout rnclustry. and I<llcness with·
out vice are impossibili ties- Generous but not prodigal ~rugn~ but . not .
parsimonious brave but 1~ot rash learned b1~t n.ot pedantic tlus prmce
maintained n happy mednun between all objectionable extremes
UNDER lluLE XV. Onward onward strong an cl steady- Blessed
thrice blessed is the pence-maker -There we hope t? enjoy rest never-'
ending rest rest in which are concentrated all concc1vnble pleasures.-:
Suddenly there came a tappi~1g as of. some one gently rapprng rapprng
at my chamber door - Locluel Loclnel beware of the clay
UNDER Rm.E XVI. ·we must respect ourselves to hnve others respect ·
us - A mnn must be a genius indeed to say anything new about Niag- .
ara - Eat to live clo not live to eat - He is going .to Europe to see
whether travelling will benefit his health
UNDER RuLE XVII. It was a principle of O'Connell's that no political
advantage is worth a crime - yVhen Xei:xes sent a haughty mess3:ge
to Leonidas that he should deliver up his arms the Spartan warrior
answered in true Laconic style "Let him come and take them" "Language" says Talleyrand "was given us to conceal our thoughts".

' 131

THE DASH.

THE COlllMA.

l, 1 UNDER R~E XVIII.-Though Tycho de Brahe who lived near the
close of th~ sixteenth century certainly recognized the correctness of
th~ 9opermc.an ~ystem at an early per10d yet his ambitious variity and
rehgiou~ prejudices urged him to oppose it - Either you must confess
your crnne or-I shall have to suffer unjustly
· '. -Ir" ' U~DER RULE ?CIX. ri:o conte!1'1pl~te abstract subjects only disciplines
t~ie mmd rarely if ever mterestrng it -A long course of conduct so en;_t~rely opposed to w!mt honest men consider required by the great principles of .truth and justice cannot be passed over without the strongest
repxobat10n
-t· UN'DER RuLE XX. The loftie~t mountain in the moon is said by asftronomers to be 17138 feet l11gh-The surface of the sun contains
1865312000000 square miles that of the moon 10350400 that of the earth

148512000
. l

LESSON XXVI.
THE

DASH.

§ 176. The dash, a character of comparatively recent introduction, has of late, both by writers and printers, been very
.wrongly endowed with the functions of parentheses comma
f'
'
,
semicolon, colon, and even period; and is now extensively
u~ed by many, who find it a convenient substitute when ignorance prevents them from employing the proper point. Against
. this prevailing abuse the student can not be too impressively
.•.warned. 'l'he dash has its legitirnate uses, and · performs a
part in which no other point can properly take its place ; but
"it must not be allowed to overstep its proper limits. · Use this
. J>Rint, th~refore, only where it is strictly required by the fol-'
!?wing rules
·
RULE

!.-BREAKS, susrENSIONs, TRANSITIONS, &c.

§ 177. The dash is used to denote a break in the construcaion, a suspension of the sense, an unexpected transition in
' =-----------,-------------~-----~
i':l.'' § 176. When was the dash first introduced? What is said of its use at the present

,d11y?
i <§ 177. Repeat Rule I., relating to breaks, suspensions, &c.

. ' '' .

THE DASH.

132

THE DASH.

the sentiment, a sudden interruption, and hesitation m the .
speaker.

a. Men of humor are always, in some degree, men of genius.-CoLE·
1'able-1'alk.
EAnm.-lleraclitus supposed that the earth had the
:·:•. form of a canoe; Aristotle, that it was shaped like a timbrel;
,i
Anaximander, that it was a vast cylinder.
c. For dashes between unconnected sentences, see Exercise on p. 130.
RIDGE'S

, b. FoRM

1. Nero, Domitian , Caligula, Heliogabalus-one and tlie same charac·
ter belongs to them all.
2. Politicians are brilliant, versatile, profound, far-seeing-everything
but honest.
He h ad no mali ce in his mindN o ruffles on his shirt.
4. "No one is aware of your imprisonm ent but Sir \Villiam, nnd he
is--"
" Here I " interrupted a deep voice, as the door flew open.
5. "I would do it, but-but-to ~ay the t.rnth-I--"
"To say the truth, yon are afraid," broke in the ead.

. · II. .After a colon, when reference is made by this, these, following, or
:
as follows, to several succeeding sentences or a new paragraph; as,
"The cloth having been removed, the president rose and made the
following audress : ( Ladies and gentlemen, we have assembled, &c.' "
After a semicolon a dash is sometimes used, though not absolutely
necessary, when the last member is plr.eed in lively contrast with
the first, or implies strong opposition to it; as, "Ile chastens ;-but
he chastens to save."

.. r

a ~·

greater pause than they usually denote is required.
Hence it appears that the dash is a rhetorical as well as a ·
grammatical point.
Under this rule, a dash is used in the following cases:-

I. After a period, interrogation-point, and exclamat ion-point.
1. When a writer passes to a new branch of his subject without
commencing a new paragraph; as, "From this it is evident that ·
friendship had its origin in the social feelings which nature has
implanted in the breast of man.-Let us now)ook at its elfe~ ts."
2. In dialogues when in the same paragraph one person ceases
speaking and' another b egins; as, "'.Art thou, not--'-' ·what i ,_.
'A traitor! ' - 'Yes.' - 'A villain I' - ' Granted.'"
3. A dash is generally placed after the three points above me~·
tioned, between a passage quoted and ihe name of the autho: or
book it is taken from; also, between a side-head and the subJect- f
matter to which it belongs ; also, between sentences that have no '
connection when brought together in the same paragraph.
§ 178. R epeat Rule IL, relating to the use of the dash after oth er point~. "':'hat kind
of a point does this show the dash sometimes to be? After whnt . points is a ~ash
sometimes required by a change of subj ect? In what case? When is n dash reqmrod
after the period, Interrogation point, and exclnmiition-point, in dialogues? State the
principle that applies to the use of the dnsh after th ese three poin ts, in the ca.5e of
quoted passnges, side-b ends, and unconnected sentences. When must a dnsh follow a

··-

OF THE

-,, "f/:'
:t

IL-AFTER oTnEn. ro1 NTS.

§ 178. A dash may be used after other points, when

133

EXAMPLES.

EXAl\lPLES.

RULE

-

<

·• IV. .After a comma,
<i 1. When it follows a logical subject consisting of several particulars
' ·.,;,'. separateu by semicolons, or by commas, when, for the sake of
~ 11·
greater definiteness, the words all, these, all these, such, or the
I,.;.. like, referring to the particulars before enumerated, are introduced as the immediate subj ect of a verb ; as, "To be overlooked,
alighted, and neglected; to be misunderstood, misrepresented and
slandered; to b e trampled under foot by the envious, the ignorant, n11cl the vile; to b e crushed by foes, and to be distrusted
and betrayed even by friends,-sueh is too often _the fate of
· lli' genius."
· 2. When, in consequence of the omission of namely, or a similar
word, a longer pause is required than that usually denoted by
the comma, though the connection is so close as not to admit a
higher point; as, " 'l'he1·e is one feeling, and only one, that seems
to pervade the breasts of all men alike,-the love of life."

RULE

!IL-REPETITIONS.

§ 179. The dash is used before a repeated word or expresion,
,, when the repetition is abrupt or exclamatory, proceeds
&;ton? When Is this point sometimes used nfter a semicolon? In what two
( dMh required after a comma?
§ 179. Repeat Rule III, rclnting to repetitions.

Cl\SCB

is a

I,

,_.
;_
il

TUE DASH.

134

from hesitation, or is accompanied with a change in the
ment.
EXAJ\IPLES.

1. Here sleeps the clust of Cicero - Cicero I who once thl'illed
with his eloquence.
'll .-•
He is a- a - a -excuse me, but I must say it-a cold-blooded. VJ am
~: Such is your affected, sentimental lover-a lover of not.bing but
himself.

RULE IV.-omssroNs.

§ 180. 'l'he dash is used to denote an omission.
figures, and words; as, " On a bright summer day. m the yea_
18- the stirring little village of - - was thrown mto unusu.,
excit~ment by the arrival of the E-- family from London.
EXERCISE.

In the following sentences supply the omitted points :_.: ·i
177. I am your lordship's most obsequious zounds what~
eer of the realm - An cl bid h er you mark me on. W cdn csclay next ?n~
~oft what day is this - R ich honesty ?f'ten dwells. Ill tt poor house hkyour pearl in a spoiled oyst~r - If it sh ould ram I ~·cqncst. ~he poor.
thing may have a a what's this coat coat no coach - Im off S1~ Charl~
I'll do your errands A do~1ble-b.arrelie~ ~un two s~r11ples of Jalap my
lady's poodle your lordship's wig a st1ckrng-plaste1 they shall ~e he~
within th e hour - " My friend the counsellor " "Say learned fnend. if
ou lease sir" - "There is a business Mr. Alderman fallen out wh1c
;ou 1~ay oblige me infin itely b y I am vc,17 sorry.that I am forced to .ht
troublesome but necessity Mr. Alderman "Ay sir as you say neces~1
]3ut UJJOn my word clear sir I am very sh ort of mon ey at present st1.U
"That's not the matter sir" - They poisoned my very soul hot burmng
poisons -Away ungrateful wretch A fath~r's curse r~st ~as what 811
I cloing I cannot curse my son - It wns a sight that child m the agony
of death that would have moved a he:trt of stone
1
A crimson handkerchief adorned his head
His face was cheerful and his nose was red
UNDER§

UNDER§ 178. They were about laying violent hands up?n me in
senate-house. 'Vbat must this empire then b e . un av01d ably. ove,
the Peruvian confined m .
t urn ed _" Inform me friend is Alonzo
·11·
""-u
durwcon" "He is " "I must speaIc wit
1 11111
.ion .mus t no t""He
.
is
friend" "Not if he were your brothe:" '.' w1,1,at IS to b~ his fate'
" He di es at sunrise" " Ha then I am c?me m tnne - I fin cl it profit.'
ble sometimes to indulge in such r eflect10ns as these All men are mol"
tat Since the creation only two men have c~capcll death Therefore

THE DASH.

135

howeyer likely it may ai:ipear that I shall hold a perpetual lease of life

the time comes when hke my fathers I must close my eyes on this

pleasant world - I go but when I come 't.will be the burst of ocean in
\he ell.l'thquake I go ~ut n?t to. leap the g_ulf alone -The ambition
~. ma1~ co1~s tant1:5'. makrng lrnn. d1ssat1sfieJ. with what he has and in spir1ng him .with ~es1res for.what .is b~yon~ his rea?h his envy whi_ch renCl~rs a neighbors prospenty od10us 111 ]us eyes bis selfishness winch robs
~ of t~e pur~st er~ioy~ient God }~as eve1· youchsafed that of doing
good to his species these ignoble passions entail on him a succession of
:'iniseries and make life one scene of trial- I pause for a reply None
'Then i;ione .ha ye .I of!'ended -The bounding of Satan over the walls of
Paradise Ins s1ttrng rn the shape of a cormorant on the tree of life his
llighting ~mong the herd of animnls which are so beautifully representeid as playrng .about Adam and Eve his transforming himself into different shapes m order to hear their conversation all these circumstances
give an agreeable ~u~·prise to the reader - Copernicus was instructed in
ll;int school where 1t is fortunate when ODe can be well taught the family
oucle .
.
.
\ .ANGER. As the whirlwind in i ts fury teareth up trees and deformeth
~~ foce of nature or as an earthquake in its convulsions overturneth
eit1es so the rnge of an angry man throweth mischief around him danger
and destruction wait on his h and JJodsley
_UNDER§ 179. Merciful yes merciful as the hawk is to the dove '.Prominent among the philoso phers of antiquity is Socrates Socrates who
~ked ? eyo!1d t.he absurd fables of his ~ountry's mythology Socrates who
lifted his voice m b ehalf of truth and died a martyr in its cause Socrates
ho ad~anc ed as far in m?ral enli ghtenme1;t as it was possible for the
luman m tellect to do unmded hy a revelation from on high - "I would
~t return if if " "If you thought I would allow you to remnin" interpted the earl h arshly-: Shall I who have spent my life in the camp I
wh_o have. shed my blood rn defence of my country I who am a sqldier
• experience .ns "ell ns profession shall I compare myself with this
launtrng cnptmn - He has a weakness a weakness of the h ead as well
Ii the stomach - "I will inquire into the matter and if if" "Well if"
roke in my fathe r impatient of d elay- He is full of love love for himtell";- Onr friend is afflicted with a grievous consumption a consumption
.victuals.
" '. U Nl)ER § 180. A series of observations made in 18 showed that of
ene hundred shooting stars four had an elevation from the earth of
).:.8 mil~s fift~en of 3 6 miles ~wenty-two of 6 10 miles thirty-five of
10 ·15 miles tlurteen of 15 20 miles three of about 30 miles one of 45 46
!1,j!~~ one of about 60 mil.es and one of over 100 n:iles -. In the year
1'1s1ted L - In the wrnter of 1849 50 I studied tlns subject atten·vely and obtai ned much useful information respecting it from GoldilJ\ith's "History of the E arth and Animated Nature" chaps 4 9

..

my

§ 1SO. r. epcnt Rulo IV., relating to 0111issiona.

!··

' r=r

--

' 1•

'

PARENTHESES.

136
,,
'

LESSON

XXVII.

PARENTHESES.-DRA CKETS.

"·
§ 181. 'rhe word PARENTHESIS means a 1~utting in b~si~I

.'

cl the term is applied to a word or words rntroduced mto a
::ntence for the purpose of explaining, modifying, ~r addi~g
to, the leading proposition, but inserted abruptly, rn suc4,'!•
way as to break the connection between dependent part~ ~~d
interfere with their harmonious flow. Such an express10n ·~
placed between curves, known as p~rcnthcses _or marks of pa-_
rcnthesis. It is indicated in rcadmg by usmg a lower tone
of voice and more rapid delivery than arc employed' for t~e.
rest of the passage. An example is presented in the follo~·
ing sentence : "Shall we ~ontin~e (alas that I should be c~m
strained to ask the question ! ) m a cou~·sc so dangcro~s,, ~
health, so enfeebling to mind, so destructive to character . · ,

PARENTHESES.

pla~e." Watts, also, remarks on tlus subject, "Do not suffer every oc- Q11Sional thought to carry you away into a long parenthesis." The propriety of such observations is so evident that goou writers at the present
day avoid formal parentheses as much as possible. The marks by which
" they are denoted have now, therefore, become comparatively rare; but
. bi the cases covered by the following rule they cannot well be dispensed
:J-ith.
't ·
.
~.

:J

: § 183.

1.-Marks of parenthesis are used. to enclose
· Words which explain, modify, or add to, the lead(ng proposition
of 'a sentence, when introduced in such a way as to break the
-~ f.?rinect~on between dependent parts and interfere with their
llarmomous flow.
. '

ltuLE

/;I

EXAMPLES.

Matilda (such was the lady's name) smiled sweetly at this address.
The doctrine of the immortality of the soul and a system of future re• i11wards and punishments was taught explicitly (at least as explicitly
1, as could be expected of an ancient philosopher) by Socrates.
B. Are you still (I fear from the tone of your letter you .must be) trou. · \ bled with these nppr.ehensions?
§ 184. Doubts may sometimes arise as to whether it is better to use
,parentheses, or commas, as prescribed in § 122 for parenthetical clauses.
i4'1ie latter point is prefernble when the words in question coalesce readi. Jy .with the rest of the sentence, but is inadmissibl() when a complete or
jpdependent member is inserted; particularly if it is brought ip. abruptly
or its construction differs from that of the parts between which it stands.
'The following examples will illustrate these cases.

§ 182. Old writers, with whom intricate constructions a~a

violations of unity were common, made frel1u ent us.e of par~
theses. The obvious disadvantage, however, of rntroducuig
propositions within proposition~, a p~·actice which draw~ off ~~e
reader's attention from the mam pomt, and too often rnvolY-!'
the sacrifice of perspicuity, harmony, and strength, has ~" .
the use of less intricate sentences, and ,,lo
<
1a t e en't'ics to advi'sc
proscribe parentheses as incompatible with nervousness of

?Every star,

as we infer from indisputable facts; is the centre of a
' 'planetary system.
r.Every star (and this great truth is inferred from indispu,t able ,facts)
"' is the centre of a planetary system.
~ .§ 185. The proper place for parentheses is the middle of a sentence;
ct loose writers sometimes place them at the end; as, "Such is the
:wonderfnl account given by travellers of the natives of Patagonia (traviillers, you know, are sometimes fond of the marvellous)."

style.

" On some occasions,'' says Blair, "these [pa~ent~ese~] may haveja
spirited appearance; as pr~mpted. ~y n. certam v1vac1ty of thong_~
which can glance happily aside as it 1s gorng nlong. But, ~or. the llf~
· effec t is
· ex tr·emely bad·' being a sort of wheels w1U11n .wheea,
part, t lieir
r·
·
tl
sentences m 1e m1'd st of sentences ·' foe per1)lexed
. method. of . d1sposipg
r
.ch a writer wants art to mtroduce JU Its proP,«
of some tliought , Wlrl

181. ·what does the word parenthesis mean ? 'l'o whnt I~ th_e t erm. npplie~? Whll
§
dt
l
snch expressions? How arc th ~y 11Hltcnte1\ 111 renchng?
marks are use o enc ose
'
.
.
f !&Iii
.
. By whom w ere parenthe"es often cmploye<l? '\ hn.t. 's th e nrln cc o
182
§
I t I 't b " d? Whnt ls the snbstnn co of Blatr s re mm k on the eta.
" critics, and on w ta s 1 n, c ·
·I

-137

..

'

Ject 1 What does Watts advise ? What Is snicl or the use of parentheses nt ~he
"- 'pre&n t clay ?
§ 183. R epent Rule I., relating to the purpose for which marks of parentheses are

ued.
l § 184. What is sometimes a matter of question? When is the comma preferable?
~~When

'

is it inntlmissible?
§ 185. What Is tho proper pince for parentheses?
times place thorn ?

Where do loose writers some-

.

,

I •:

I

\

I!

138

l' AREN'l'HESES.

§ 186. Expressions of approbation or disapprobation introduced int<?-J

(

·~
• !

§ 187. In dramatic compositions, clircction s to the performers nnd nlL
other parts not strictly belonging to the dialogue nre enclosed in paren:
t h eses; except the names of t he speak ers, ns they snccessively take up
the discourse, which, collstituting side-h eads, are set off by o. period an
dnsh, or by a p eriod alone; thus : ·•'
C1cERO.-Expel him, lictors.

Clerir the senate-house.
(They siirroimd hiin. )
CATILINE (struggling through them).-I go,-bnt not to leap
gulf alone.
You build my fun eral-pile, but your best blood
Shall quench its flame.-(7o the lictors) Back,
return.
(Ile rus!tes out. 'I'ho scene closes.)

§ 188. RuLE II.-1\Iatter within parentheses must be punotuated just as it would be in any other position, except before
the last par enthetical mark. There, if the matter introduced .
complete in itself as r egards both construction an<l sense, an i
terrogation-point, an exclamation-point, or (in the case of the r
marks and directions alluded to in § 186, 187) a period, ma
be u sed, according to the character of the sentence. If th
parenthesis is incomplete in sense, however, th ere must be n
p oint before the last mark. See the examples und er § 186, 18l/
as well ,as the following : -

139

h, § 189. RULE III.-1\Iar ks of Jar e tl .
n~companied with other poi t . I . ,~ 1es1s are not necessarily
.. ~1iey supcrsecle the htL . ni s\-~ neit ier, o~ the other hand, clo
'·
, ci.
t m1tcvcr 11 0 1 t
Id I
ctween the pnrls if tl
. .
.
· H won
w needed
.
.
ic p,n en thesis were l ft
- med. lf a c 1
.
.
· ·
· e out, must be rc.
u on ot se mwulou is rec ui
I
.
·]
.
I
red,
it
must s tand
. after the las t 1mrcut1et1'e·
u
,t Ill ll
if a
e same position unl ess
, . '' i. . comma, rt mus t occupy
..
a paten tuet1cal cla
·
.
recedes, in which case it m t t d
use immediately
arenth esis.
us s an Lefore the first mark of
T

o

o

.

..)'·

i, I

"Matilda (such was the lad 's nam
.
Here we lrnve no comm a bee Y ' e) smr led sweetly at this add re ,,
thesis were left out ·-"bl t'ldausc i.i one woulJ be needed if tl;e
ss.
"If t
.
•
a r a snule<l sweet!
t ti .
paren,
a ree 1s known by its f .t (
Ya 11s address"
ean doubt it?), what must
r'.1' s and who that believes .Seri t
~quired ~fte1· the hypoth etl::1t ;{~1k of. th.ese men?" Here the c!~·=
,~renth es1s.
' use Is mserted after· the fast mark of
.
"A.re you still, my fri en<l (I £ , f.
JDust be) troubled with th~se cm tom ~he tone of you r letter ou
eomma is placed before t h e
. . ~pp~·eheus1 ons?" Here th e re ·~ d
."ay/riend, immc<liutely prec~~~~'.1 ics1s because the parenthetical ~~~:e,

BRACKETS.
BRACKETS

,

are used principall

Y

.

111

I

\
j
J

I

t
f.
i

I

/

f

!

I~·

I:
1-

I

quoted passages,

1:~ What does Rule HI say respecti ng the uso of

'

b

I:

§ 190. ll uLE IV.-An interro ation

.
. .
eses is often placed after
£?
-porn t w1 thrn par en,
•
an assert10n ors
•t·
t'
u.pposi 10n, to throw
oubt on it· and an c"'cl
'
"" ama 10n
· t · ·
d to denote wonder i
-p orn srnula rly enclosed is
' ·1
'
rony, or contempt·
" urh
e: office (?) I shall s
d
.
.' as,
n en I get
mh·
'
p en my 1eisure time ·
d'
,
\I. is accurate scholar (I)
h
m rea mg. ' w o went to Et
d
'
·
'
in d
d
on an graduated
cambridge, has actually
·
•
a e a ozen gra
t·
.
, mma ica1 mistakes
"thin the compass of one s1. t
.
uor paragraph."
1

1. Men are born equal (here I see you frowniug, biting your lip, ·
shaking your head) ; it is circumstances ouly that cast their lora ii
different stations.
§ 186. In r eports or speeches, what aro parenth eses nscd for enclosi ng?
§ 181. ·in clramntic compositions, what nre enclosed within parentheses?
poin ts follow lhe nnmcs of the spenkcrs, used ns si<le-hcn<ls?
~ 188. Repent Rul e IL, rolat.ing to matter within pnrenthescs.

.

Robert ~s w11sting his time (was it £ . . . .
.
• fices p) Io idle amusements.
o1 tl11s !us farmly made such sacri~ Th~ poets (te nder-hearted swains I) l
,' writer has ever been able to paint it. iave po1trayed love as no prose-

.

reports of speeches as having been made by the audience, ns well as re'..
marks by the person reporting or publishing them, must be enclosed _in
parentheses ; as,
This doctrine, ns Jong ns I have brenth, I sh nll oppose. (Hearl ,
h ear I) I shnll oppose it in th is hnll; I shall oppose it on the lrn stingBJ'
(Cheers, mingled with hisses. ) Nor shnll I h esitate to publi sh to th~
world on whom rests the r csponsioi li Ly of aLhocati11g so arbitrary, un.' ·
jnEt, and in nll rr~prct~ i11 fomn11,, a m!'n sn r c. (C1·ic~ nf "Order! ._
"Ord er!" from· nll parh of the h all.)

,,

l'AilEN'l'HESES.-nRACKE'rs

ployed? 'Whcro must n colon
.
oth er marks when parcntbese•
? G'
or semicolon If
.
a
ive tho example~, nnd show ' ' l ti
'
requ1recl, stoncl? Where n
lllO. Repent Rulo IV. relating t t" ' iy . icy ore so punctuated.
'
. hm
' pnrenthooo~.
'
. o ue ouclosrng of Int eirogo
.
ti on-r-omt.9
.
"'wit
and exclamn·
, ·poin'·

L
!

0

,
I<

''

I .

,

It

Qt 'lft ' - ·

APOS'l'llOl'HE.-llYPHEN.-QUOTA'l'ION-POINTS.

,

BRACKETS.

140

141

tenccs were lost Mr Chairman I c
t
.
· I,.owe !t no~ only to my country b~~nt~ ~~!e .~o~ this resolution Cheers
m ,ch is said to preserve th e .
I ig its of man of which
. former and to staud by the
afd
policy of
,defence and security for the latte1~ \?h non-m;e'.·ventio~ as a high moral
J.j>f.lause
.
e speaket took Ins seat amid loud

to enclose words improperly omitted by the author or intro·
duced to correc t a mistake. · Sometimes, like lJarentheses,,
th ey enclose an observation, an explanatory worll, or a
ical remark, that docs not b elong to the quotation. 'f hey are
also em ployed in dictionari es and similar works to enclose th8'
fi gur ed pronunciation of a word, the primitive from which it i~.

prin~~1~c

crit~

lo?g-establ~shed

tl~~

SENTINEL Go lil E:i:it S entinel
RoLLA calls Alonzo Alonzo
ALoNzo HowEnter
I Alonzo
· . 'R'J?ea k z·.71 [} as he comes in
8 my 110ur ela11scd
'
W ll ·
derived, or a reference t o some other term.
: UNDER § 188 'I'l 1
c I am ready
ie
10noraule
gent!
.
.
.
·
o Lomsrnna has overlooked
. eman on the right
l\fr Doubled
f
EXAMPLES.
ahould I deny it that this
point .- I wish and
~an myself - Sh e h r1.1 l m:urn gccl t. hi~ mat~een pmcl to any one rather
1. H e might li:we been happy, anJ now (he ) is conv inced of it.
.
~t ar~ful of women that my fath er's hea.rt er so well oh she was the
2. A variety of pleasin g obj ects meet (meets J the eye.
'.'
was rn clanger - Co nsid er and oh ma was gon.e befo;e I s.uspected
3. ~!rs. llemnns wns born to be a g rcnt })Oct. ( t:)h c may have bee
~to your h eart t hat one crime inevit bl )' the cons1derat10n smk deep
u orn to ue a grent poet; but, if so, w e cannot help thinking that sh•
~ UNDER ii 189. While we earnest! a 1 Y. eacls the way to others
w oPfnlly missed h er mark.]
''""-men ancl t l11s
· desire
. the !Jetter .feelin
V ( cs1re the
'- t'·10n of our fcl. ,,.,..
- a pp1.oua
4. PETIT-l\IAITRE l p et'te-ma tr j n. A co;;:c,:-ml>.
-S~aken we should shrink from 0"'ainin"' g;t1 ot our. nature cannot fail to
As regards the p oints to u c med in connection with brackets, an ·
•
uch was the creed of tile Sto'
o
Y dishonorable IDC"ns
·• ID
" d th e1r
· prwc1ples
· ·
ics seet Tenne111 ?n' s n"fannal Vol II ~I? 230
the proper method of punctuating th e matter contained within
were fu r the
the same i)l·inciples apply as those laid down for i1arculheses · '
~e baron left to himself malicenI~sseiF~~~1~~nctly ~arri~cl out in life ~er
resolved on a dcs1le!'"te co .
C
not wJSh him a worse ad
t:..l th'
·
m sc -no ould. 1ie possibly
·
m is. crime
! am su re" he could
have commit-§ 188,
189.
'When
an independent sentence is enclosed , as in Exampl e 3 given
' ~t varrnnce with the wh ole tenor of l ~ ~)}1ch as all will acknowledge
above, a period, an interrogation-point, or an exclamation-point must·b«
UNDER§ IUO This would b
I I us I e
~oblest poc1~ in th e Lnti1; l~n~u1~g~r~nit cl~clarcd that the Iliad was
used before the l ast bracket, according to the character of the sentence;
• y ~urpa~scd ouly by h er physical charm~r rnt~llect.ual _beauty is certion w1lh 1~1s most. Ch ri stian Majcst ' I w
E~terrng mto conversaEXERCISE.
ced which would almost h ave d i:g
~ s 110cked to hear views aclIn the following sentences, supply the points required
UNDER § 191. A man had four s~u~ace a ie'.lt~en. .
ffeen among
. andtohe ac
d1v1decl
• t hem --•Be n101·e aux1ous
UNDER§ 183, 185. Is it I must take the liberty of asking uecausen.
. . k!us JJroperty be He
J'ttl
qun
e nowledge th
iowrng
to
show
it
u
s
1
Jaw touches the case that you thus violate justice - l<or I lrnow that•
t J
Some
too few
t.; ic
!he
besides
m e that is in my lle'h cl wcll eth 110 gootl thing- He h aJ. not been the
ID act10n. some in ease - ELUDE Lati -/~n,,, o wc1ct.y place their
so I was informed by those who liv ed in I.he neighbo rh ood since they
.-we we~nness duJl nes.s of spirit - ~ ~ u o v. t. to escape - ENNUI
184.0 - Ile Mr. Brown luvl never 1.Jefor e fou nd himself in so embarr
...PETER s '\VonT
ETER-WORT n. A plant. Sec
in g a position H e was ov ercome n,nJ he begged the c01Hpany would ll
thin1c he was cxaggerati11 g his fceli11gs with this unexpected mark.
esteem - I expected to find every thing that great wen.Ith for lllY fri
is a roan of property n,ml tnstc for his taste is acl mittell to ue un
ceptionable coulJ. b estow- Here we took dinn er though conscience w
LESSON XXVIII.
hardly allow me to dignify sour bread and musty eggs by so ·
i

com~fi~n~~£1~~~nt

;I
·1

.l

w~;

i; .
I

th~~

I

the~­

.'

'

l

:7

.~ n~me -;-

sounding
a name
·
UNDER§
186, 18'7. I agree with the honorable gentleman Mr All
that it is pl easing to every generous mind to obey t.ho dictates of s
pathy but sir truth and justice impose on us high er obligations Leng
enecl applause and confusion in the gaJlerics during which severals..

.'

§ 191. For what are brnck etS u sed? Whnt u se is made of them in di ctlonnrl ·
What points mny he used in connedion with brnck ets? How must tbe matter
~nc\oRo he flllllCtnntcd ? ·when nn lmlcpcndent ecntcnco is enclosed, whnt point _
prece<lo the last brnckcl ?

nln.~

f:~~ ~::i~\e ~f fscho~ar

APO STROrIIE.-II YPHE N · _

~.,.' Besides
the grammatical P 0 m
• ts
.

QUOTATION·POINTS.

.
various
oth ·

k

o;yed
. 1ar s are em- m written and p1·1"nted ma tt'er 1· t l10 • erm
•
e Apostrophe (1) tl H h
·
prmcipa of these are
,

.•

'

10

.YP en (-), and Quotation-points (" ").

Besides tho grnmmnlicnl points, what otllor mnrks nre employed?

f

!.

L
I

!

I

..

-•- -M

'.l'lrn AI'OSTROI'HE.

142

'l'HE HYPHEN.

143

. "· § 195. Observe that this rule applies only to nouns. The possessive

THE APOSTitOPIIE.
§ 192. The word apostrophe means a turning from,,o
away. The mark so called has the same form as the com
and differs from it only in being placed above the lino.

RULE

~.of the person~! pronouns, whether ending in s or not, must have no
ipcietrophe ; as, mine, lier, lters, ours, yours, theirs.
fl96. The apostrophe followed by s is also used to form the plural
,} he, names of letters, figures ' and signs ,· as, " Do· t you r i.,s, cross
tB, make your G's better and insert two +'s"
' I!

'

·. t

•

I.-omssroN oF LETTERS.

§ 193. The apostrophe is used to denote the omission of

'·

•

letter or letters; as, 'tis, I'll, o'er, tho'.
The period and the clash are also employed, as we have alread
seen, for this purpose. The following distinction, however, is to be :,
served : ;
1. The periot'l is employed mainly in abbreviations of titles, pro
names, technical anu tabular terms, and foreign word s ; as, P. l.M.
for Post-master General ;- Jas. ]{. Polk, for James J{nox Polk,
D. V., for Deo volente, God willing ;-bu., for bushel.
2. The dash is used when ' it is desired to allude to an. object with~
making known what it is; as, "In the year 18-, the usually q '.
village of L---- was thrown into a state of excitement," &c. ··,
3. In most other cases, that is, when Lhe o1ject is merely to abbrevi
common English words which do not fall under the above class01
to contract tw o words into one, the npostrophe is employed.

RULE

II.-POSSESSlVE CASE.

§ 194. The apostrophe is used to denote tho

TIIE IIYPIIEN.
§ ~97. The word hyphen is derived from two Greek words
e!Wmg under one ; and the mark so called is used to denote
~~- the parts between which it stands belong to one and
e' same word.
. ,f

:

~RULE

. § 198. The hyphen must be placed between words that
'te to form a sin~le epithet, and also between the parts of a

~pound substantive when each receives the stress of the·

_,ce; as, laughter-loving, good-natured, twenty-one, neverforgotten, glass-lzouse, sc!f-conceit, one' s-sclf.
" "· § 199. Compouucl words, l:owcver, whose parts ha>e so completely
. esced that they have Lut one aecent, are written without the hyas, watchman, lapdog, broadsword, himself.

eni.

case of nouns; as, India's treasures ;-kings' daughters.
To form the possessive case, singular nouns take 's; a~, fa
fiiqht ;-Thomas's w1belirf. P lnrnl no1ms en<ling in .~ t.ake the a
tr;phe alone; a.s, the cities' gate~: other .plural nouns take 's; as, ·
sorrows. But if, by reason of a ~uceession of s sounds, or from any o.
cause, euphony would be violated by the in trod net.ion of nn ,q, the a
trophe alone is used in forming the possessive; as, JJfoscs' sta:.ff ;-for,
science' sake ;-Felix' speech.
§ 192. What does tho word apostrophe mean? Ilow does the mark so called
•
from the comma?
§ 193. Repeat Rule I., relating to the omission of letters. Whnt other points:.
empl oyee! for this purpose? In what case is tho period used? In what, the cla.sh I
wlrnt, the apostrophe?
§ 194. For what other purpose is the apostrophe uoccl, nccording to Rule II.?
do singular nouns form their possessivo cnso? How, plurnl uonns? When 18
apostrophe alone used in forming tho possessive?

l.-COJIIPOUND EPITHETS AND SUBSTANTIVES.

ltULE

IL-DISTINCTION OF WORDS.

~ § 200. The hyphen is used to distinguish words of similar
lling, but Jificrcut pronunciatiou aud meaning; also, to form
..;compound term of words which, if not thus united would
e'.a different signification.
'
· and , when t.I1e WO!·d
, us. re-creation means the act of creating a"ain
v
>
IO written, the first e is long, aa in me. If we omit . the hyphen, we

I 195,

What is said of the possessive case of pronouns?
196. How i~ the plural of' the nnmes of letters, figures, and sign 8 , formed?
11~:· -What 1s tho meaning of tlie word ltyphen r What does the mark so called

f"~99.

Repeat Rule I., reiating to compound epithets and substnntirns.
199. What compounds nro written without the bypbon?
I 900. For wbnt other purposes ls the hyphen used, according to Rn lo II.? Illustrate

144

i;
I
•t
i

•

TIIE IIYPIIEN.

QUOTATION-POINTS.

have recreation,- quite a different worcl, equivalent to relaxation, amu&&.
ment; and we must give the first vowel the sound of c in m et.
The ·words monk's-hood nnd dog's-ear will serve as examples of the
second case mentioned in the rule. Leave out the hy ph en, nnd wen~
lon ger have the familiar plnnt kn own as m onk's-hood, but a monk's lwod,
that is. the head-covering of a monk. Dog's-ear means th e corner of 11
leaf (,urned or twisted over; but remove the connecting mnrk. nnd we
have the ear of a dog.
·1
§ 201. The hyphen may also b e usc<l instead of the dircrcsis, to denote
that two adjacent vowels do not unite to form a cliphlhong, when these
vowels respectively terminate n prefix and commence the radical witli
which it is j oined ; ns, pre-existent, co-oper ate.

.. ~.

'
~

'.,

ltULE III.-DETWEEN

SYLLABLES.

§ 202. ·when, from want of space, a portion of a word h
to be carried to a new line, the division must be made afterra complete syllable, and the hyphen is used at the end of th~
line, to connect the separated parts; as,
" Virtue cannot be bought."

·
i -i-gent, as-tron--0. •giV-en above would be divided thus·· m elon
- , wi·d-ow, d"l
my. .A few rules covering most cases may be of service.

~:,, Ru~..E I.~Join ~onso~ants to the vowels whose sounds . they modif .
as, ep-i-dem-ic, an-i-mos-i-ty.

·.·~,; RuLli: II.-L?t prefixes

y'

and suffixes form distinct syllables when this

can• :be done wi thout
th e pronunciation's bcin"'
mi"sr eprcsen t e d. : as re•
0
.-.
print,. out-run,·
re1 cct-ed, not r e-;ec-ted
.
" . ,· J'.r0 rm-er, not Jor-m.er,
w h en 'tlie
1s one that f onns.

m,~1111111g

:. - RULE III.-Ia
" d"IVISIOllB
. .
h ul
l. t
, the cnse of compoun<ls' syll a b IC
S O d fall
. "f.e ween the simple words that compose them. ns 1
-tl
, ' rlorse-man, more-over,
g... e-wo11tan.

~ .

h. :

-

._".'.i§ ~o_s.

lt

•

QUOTATION-POINTS.

QuoT,ATION-POINTs, called in French and . sometimes
;English, froru ~he name of the person who first used them,
~ILLEllrnTs, consrnt of two inverted commas and t
t
" "] T
. wo apos ro[
P. es . · . hey are used to enclose words quoted from an
~~?r or speaker, or represented · in narratives as employed
• ' _dialogue i as, "By doing nothing," says an old writer,
. ~,en learu . to do evil."-" Quick ! quick I or I perish,"
~1eked the exhausted hunter. " One moment longer I Th
P.~. has come ·'" s h outed a hundred voices from the top .0 f thee
mG.

·crag.

' ·
•When. the substance merely is given , nnd not the e xac t wor ds quo-

the first case with the word recr·eation.
liood a.ml do(J's-ear.
§ 201. For what purpose is tho hyphen, liko tho <lircrcsis, sometimes used1 ;).la
wh nt case?
:' .
§ 202. J~epent Ruic HT., relating to th e nsc of th o hyph en nt th e encl of n line. " .
§ 203. Wh at is syllabication? H ow m any systems prevail ? D escribe the
lish system. What docs W cbster Eay of it? Describe the system pursued In ~
country.

!.

1 RULE IV.-The terminations cial tial aion tion cious e·
othe ti t
'
'
'
,
' ious, and
. " rs rn nrc pronounced as one syllable, must not be divided.
"' § 204. Afte r th e numerous instances in which it h · t b
ployed, it is hnr<ll y necessary to ndd that the hyphen ~s JUSd ;e~ s~ emb st useh . y exicog'nphera and others, not on ly at the end of a 1·
.d ··
· me, u w erever they
}&J.~e to show the syllables of which a word is composed.

§ 203. 'With r egard to SYLLAllICATION, or the division of words inti
syllables, it is proper to remark that two systems prevail. The Engfuli
method divides on the vowels, th at is, without r efei·ence to pro~
ciatiou throws consonants as much ns possible into th e beginning :'
syllabl~s; ns, m e-lon, wi-dow, di-li-gent, a-stro-no-my. This method;·
·w cbster justly r emarks, contradicts the very defini tion of n syllabi
"A syllable in pronunciati on", snys this au thor," is an indivisible thing
and, strange as it may nppcar, what is indivisible in uttcrnnce is div'
in writing; wh en the very purposo of di viding words into syllables ia
writing, is to lead th e Icam er to a just pronunciation." Some Eng:~
writers, however, and among them Lowth, advocate !.he method gene
ally adopted in tl1is country,· of making such divisions ns most near!
exhibit the true pronunciation. According to th is system, the exampl

'145

?/~·pomts are unnecessary; as, Diogenes used to say that othe; dogs
i

In dividing Into Ayllables, with what must consonants bo oincd 1
8'out prefixes and sufllxes' forming distinct syllabics? II
j
What Is said
ow nre compounds dlvldod?
terminations must not be di vlded?

. f 204.

What use Is rnncle of the hyphen by lexicographers?
·
Whnt nre quotntlon-polnts callecl In F;ench? Wh
th
_,.
<lo they cons ist? Whnt are thny n<cd to cnd o•o • =1y nretl eylso called? Of
·- r n io n 10 sn Jsta nco merely.

I 205.

7

/,

,,

QUOTA TION-rOIN'l'S.

ArowrnorHE.-IIYrHEN.-QUO'l'A'l'lON-POINTS.

147

146

l
. ht save them..
t I b 't his friends that ie mig
. t.
bit their enemies, but tha . w ithe hilosophcr b een given, quotatio~~'
Had the exact words used by . . dp Thus: Diogenes used to say,
.
ld h ve b een r equire ·
.
l t I mny save
pomts wou
n
.
. . but I bite my friends, t rn
..
" Other clogs bite their enemies'
'

. 1angun ge ' titles
them. ,,
' t d in a foreign
' ' of books,
.
In the cnse of pnssngcs c1 c
't . . fer italics to r1uotat.ion-pomts !
c1 s p1 nsscd
e
no.mes of newspapers, &c. ".'some
. wn
. has
into a prover b ."- "'l"he
..
P. ' . , History of thn Pun" Virgil's Labor omma vwcit.
aR,
•
Athenan11n has a we11 w riLtcn review of 1 cm son 1:1
.
tans."

.
oints is to be punctuated
l\Iattcr within quotat10~·f.
If at the close of
'f 't t d in any other pos1 10n.
.
be·
just as l l s oo
. 1 . t is required, lt may ,
grammat1ca porn
quoted passage any
•
h
'f 't is applicable to the ex·
placed before the two apostrofr ~: ~e~ongs to the sentence ~r
tract alone, but after. tl::m 1-Ie
member as a whole'
'

answered briefly, "Am l ·G·
if this 2 "-Are our lot_i
knave that you should susp!~t ,~n?e o
.
..
indeed cast in " the brazen a]ge . d to enclose a quotation
. 1 p · t [' ' are use
§ 207. Smg e ?m .s . lf. uoted. as , '' 'rhe great rule,"
within a passage which ils itsed \ or /ethics' as it is styl
t
" of mora con uc '
'
.
" ,,_..
L
says ava er,
.
k the best u se of one's tune. f.
hers 1s to ma e
·
h ·1
by p 1 osop
}
1 d between single quotation-poi,
. .
ge thus enc ose
.
··
If w1thm n. passa
ti
cxtrnct double porn ts are ··1
t . troducc ano 1er .
'
w"
there is occasion . o .rn . .
"King Louis nsked Joinville, ' . .o.
for the sake of distmct1011, as, 't hat the church calls "a de •
you rather be a leper, or comm1 w
.
. ·'' ·

;08

tr' "No man can be happy, if conscience tells hi~ that he has left a sin. ; gle duty unperformed.
·
"No man can be happy who is destitute of good principles and gen. erous feeling~."

--··-. _
LESSON

a

§ 206.

sin "§I'

'1"
"No man can be happy, if self is the sole object of his thought.a' and
:.wishes.

When an extract consists of several successive

Pi1

..
mas must stand at the commencemen,
graphs, mverted com
t
ed till the quotati
.,~r.
each , bu t the apostrophes are no us
·~
ends; as,
!s gi'ven , nre quotation-points necessary?

,

quotnt!on·points?
. ,
nnctnat.etl? If n grnmmatlcnl
9
§ 206. How i~ matter w1thm quotntlon-poit~t be placed ns regards the tw11 ·
Is requ ired at the close of a passage, how mus
' (,'

1t

.
. ts used to enclose? If within n passage
troph es?
§ 201. Whnt nro single quotnt10n-pom
t It bo denoted?
"·
· ! t duced how mus
enclosed nnother extrn~t is n ro
,
nd npostrophes used lu nn extract co~.
§ 208. Ilow aro the mverted commas n
·•!i
of several pl\ragrnphs?

xxrx.

ON TUE APOSTROPHE, THE HYPHEN, AND QUOTATION·
POINTS.

.Jmarks:IN the following sentences, supply the
UNDER§

omitted points and

193. Ile whos virtuous nnd pious in this life will be happy

i the next -Tis one who 11 neer forget you -Tho the heavens and the
·earth pass nway truth s11nll live forever - Oer hill through vale mid
snow een tho gainst his own will he stendily pursues his way - I 11 take
milder medcine than revenge for Ive lovd her as few have lovd
UNDER§ 194, 195 . . Swnns down; a lndys fan; -lndie3 dresses; childrens ho.ts; -1\lisses shoes ;-eagles wings; - All Saints Church.Peters wifes mother lay sick of a fever --..Jl'lfoch depends on tjiis princi' pies being understood and _these rules being strictly observed - Racines
and Corneilles tra!?edies hold the same rnnk in French litemture as
· Shakspenres enjoy lll English - ".Mens virtues" says a splenetic writer
' I• like angels visits nre few and far between " - This volume of Grays
poems is n either his hers yours nor theirs it is either mine. or my
brothers - A few moments conversation convinced me of my friends sincerity- Xerxes soldiers; -for goodness snke; - Crcesus son; -Musreus
19ngs; - Hercules sword

a

· • UNDER § 196. Make your js b etter give your gs the same slant and
let your - 8 be of the same .length-A supply of es !is gs .& and ;s
_ust be procured from the foundry-Three 5s =five 3s
,
UNDER $\ 198. At twenty- one my sister in law was a lnughter loving
. bright eyed' pure hearted srngle minded girl -The market women are
ringing in nn abundance of water melons musk melons and a new
variety of apple cnllcd seek no furth ers - My fellow traveller liad a
dare devil look that mo.de me regard his double barrell ed pistols with
. some apprehension and wish myself safe back in my old form house S.uch bottle of small beer comparisons ought to b e avoided -The ladies
hats the present season give their faces a bewitching kiss me if you dare
expression
- uNnEn. § 199. These boatmen are allowed to sleep in the daytime She makes a good housewife - Gunpowder for sale

•

-- ~

......

-

148

APOSTllOPHE.-HY I'IIEN. -

QU OT A 'l'ION -l'OINTS.

200, 201. The stolen nrticlcs were r estored-The goods
were taken fr om one w arehouse nnd r cstor cJ in anoth er - Ripe fruits
r ecr eate the nostrils with their aromatic scent - Instead of rcmforcing
it was found n ecessary to recreate the army -To r efo rm publ ic abuses
is on e of the aims of every true patriot -Th e t.roops we re reform ed into
a hollow square - My h ealth is reestablished - Articles are sometimes
r eexported -These two bodi es were Urns reunited - \Vhnt mortal
knows his preexistent state - IV c have been gathering wolfs bane and
b ears foot
UNDER§

ACCENTS.

r'

149

Jie has made judges dependent o h.1
'll
. .
.
, then· offices nud the amount and pay~en : ~?th 11;Ione fo; tho tenure of
i . . He has erected a mul titude of ne
eir aalar1.es
officers to harnss our Jlcople and e t w otffithce? andb sent hither swarms of
•·'· . .
a ou
eu· au stance

---···-J... ESSON XXX.

-150

--

•

-

I

MARKS OF ELLIPSIS.-BRACE.-DLERESIS. .

QUANTITY, EMPHASIS, DIVISION, AND REFERENCE ll(ARKS.

II. QuANTiTY-MARKS.

These are two in number : -

1. The MACRON [ - ] , placed over a vowel to d enote its long sound; as, '

fate, m ete, n ote, H eliogabalits.
2. The BnEVE [ v] , placed over a vowel to denote its short sound; as, .·
fat, met, not, Hel~ogabalUs.

151

14.

· *
The SECTION
. . t 5. p ARALLELS
.
§
+
6• The p ARAGRAPH
· · • • • . · , . ifI
t
When more than six reference-marks are required some printers
..
double
and treble those just enumerated · Th e b ett er way,
'
h owcver 1s
·
.
.If. ~se small figures or letters, technically calle'd superiors.
'

i:•.The .ASTERISK ·

·

·

2. The OBELISK, or DAGGER
3. The DounLE DAGGER ,
•i

·

"-.. III. EMPHASIS-MARKS, used generally at the beginning of . . . ,
paragraphs, to attract the special attention of the reader.
They are found in newspapers, cards, hand-bills, &c., but rarely in books. They are,

;..t--' VI. MARKS

I. The INDEX, or HAND [ ~ ] .

, ~: ~J:e~" k - g, ( k · .g, or k * * g) promenades the city at night in dis-

2; The .Asr.ERISM [ ***].

OF ELLIPSIS , [ - - ] , [ ..... ] , or [*It#""]
are used to show that letters are omitted from a word, word~
from a sentence, sentences from a paragraph, or entire paragraphs and chapters from a work ., as,
·

2.

IV. Drvrs10N-lHAnKs, which denote the commencement of
a new branch of the subject.

"If an .Artist love his .Art for its own sake he

'll d Ii ht .

·;; ~~~e :l~er;v;r.;ie m~e.ts it~ as we~l in the 'wor:~f a:ot{er: i~xC.:};

The marks generally used for

for distinction."

No1 is this genume love compatible with a craving

this purpose are,
I. The P ARAGRArn [if] , ral'ely found in modern books, but

the Bible and other old publications. The beginning of a new sub- :
ject is now indicated simply by a break; that is, by commencing on I
a new line, a little to the l'ight. The wor;d paragraph is derived from ".
the Greek; and literally means a rnarginal note, something writte1i ;/
near or alongside.
2. The SECTION [ §] , the mal'k for which seems to be a combination of .
two s' s, standing for signuin sectionis, the sign of the section. This ·\.,, '·
mark is placed before subdivisions of books in connection with num- .·
b ers, to facilitate r eference; it is so used throughout this volume.

V. REFERENC E-MAn.Ks, used to connect a word or words
in the text with remarks in the margin, or at the bottom, of
the page on which they occur. Their names are given below, :
in the order in which, by the common consent of printers/
they nre introduced.

. used for king. It will be
b lnExample I ' k-g ' k · · g, or k**
· g, is
o served that, when periods or stars are thus introduced n"ito
ds
·there must be one for each letter omitted When the
dwor.,
Ex. 2 t d t th
. .
·
Y are use , as m
..
' o eno e e om1ss10n of one or more sentences any numb
. ·be employed b t t
,
er may
.
; u oo many mar the beauty of a printed page.
.
1

, '. VII. The n.r"ACF. .[ ~] is used to connect several
terms or expressions with one to which all have a com
.
mon re-

~ation ; as,

Ilaga_tellc, }
{ trifling;
Corte.ge,
may be translated escort.
Ennui '
·'
weariness.
t1.1·· The brace is, als~, sometimes employed to connect.a triplet or three
lines of.Poetry rhy~rng together, when introduced into a poem' most of
.; . ":hose Imes rhyme m pairs or couplets; as,
'
8<? slowly, by degrees, unwilling fame
Did matchless Eleonora's fate proclaim
Till public as the loss the news becam~.

}

How many quantit.y-mnrks nre there? What nre they called? What does tho '_.
macron denote? What, the breve?
Wh ere do emphasis-mnrks generally stand? For wlrnt arc they used? Name and ·

VIII. The DI.l.EREsrs (··),placed over either (generally the

describe th em.
What do di vision-marks denote? Name them. Whore is tho pnrngrnph found? ,;
Is it used in modern publications? How is the beginning of a now subject now indi- :
cated? From wh at language is the word parauraph derived? What does it mean? ~,
From whnt is tho section formed? How is this mark used f
.l.
For what nro rcfcrcnco-mnrks ornployed? Glvo their names in tho order in ,

which th ey aro used by printers? . Wh
·
to "mploy?
en more than six nre required, what !a it best
·h t
·Describe the different marks of ellip<is F
.•or stars aroused to denote the omission- of let~r "'I a are they used? When periods
they denote th e omission of a sentence, how mn~1;• l~~:~ ::~~~~st there b.e ? When
For what Is tho brnco used? For whnt Is it s.ometlmes employed ln poetry?

152

CEDILLA.-DOUilLE COl\Il\IA.-LEADEilS.-CARET.

latter) of two contiguous vowels, shows that they do not form
a diphthong, but must be pronounced separately ; as, z oology,
aeronaut, phaeton. The word is of Greek origin, and signi·
fies a division.
IX. The CEDILLA is a. mark sometimes placed under the
letter c (g) standing before a and o, to show that, contrary to
analogy, it has the sound of s. This mark seldom occurs ex·
cept in certain French words not yet fully m1turaliz ed in Eng:
lish ; as, f a~ade, gar~on.
X. The DouBLE Co11mA_(,,) is used to dengte that a word
is to be supplied from a line above in the Rpaee immediately
beneath it. Names of persons, however, are generally repeat·
ed; as,
Harvey J ohnson, jr., Steubenville, Ohio.
Jacob J. Johnson, jr.,
,,
,,
Sometimes inverted commas (") are preferred for this purpose.

XI. LEADERS ( ..... ) are dots placed at short iutervals, to
carry the eye from words at the commencement of a line to
matter at its end with which they are connected. It is chiefly
in tables of contents and indexes of books that leaders are required. Thus : . l\feclia of Communication ........... page 13.
Spoken Language . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ,,
17.
·written
,,
.. . . .. . .. .. .. .. .. ,,
20.

XII. The CARET C ), used only in manuscript, shows where
interlined words are to be introduced; as, "No man is ex·.
empted from 1~· ills of life." The name of this mark is a Lat·
in word, meaning it is wanting.
Whero is the dl::eresis placed P What does it show? From whnt lan guage is the
word derived, and what docs it signify ?
Under " ·hat letter is th e cedilla plnced? Before what vowels? In whnt words?
Wh ere and for what. is the douLle commn employed? Whnt other mark is preferred
by some for this pmpose?
Wh at arc leaders? "Wh ere, principally, nre they required?
.
Wh ere is t he cnret used? Whnt does it show? What is th e origin, nnd what the
meaning, of the word?

TECHNICAL TERMS PERTAINING

TO BOOKS.

153

XIII. There are,. also, certain characters which may with
~· propr~ety be here enumerated.

In Prices Current, Book-keepiugd, &c., we meet with ':@ for per, a,
'. . each, and @, at, to. In almanacs, treatises on Astronomy, and the like,
.' the following marks constantly occur:-

~ ~
.c.' !?
. ffi
7

t

. ~. ~
.- 0

Mercury.
Venus.
Eal'th.
l\lars.

Vesta.
Juno.

;;.>
~

2!
?
I!I

0 , 0

Ceres.
Pallas.
Jupiter.
Saturn.
Urauus.
Sun.

O
J>
I!!)

({

cl
8

TECHNICAL TERMS PERTAINING TO

New Moon.
First Quarter
Full Moon.
Last Quarter
Conjunction.
Opposition.
BO~KS.

§ 210. NAll!ES oF BooKs.-A book is said to be in folio .. or

'
.• ~s abbreviated fol., when the sheets of which it is composed
are folded once, each making two leaves, or four pages . . . The
size of a folio volume, and indeed of all the others enumerated
below, depends on that of the sheet; but, with the same sheet
. '
a book of folio form is twice as large as one in quarto, .imd
eight times the size of an octavo, as will be presently seen.
\•
Formerly, almost all books were printed in folio l· but
the
{
.
, weight of such volumes; and the ·difficulty of handling them,
' rendering them decidedly objectionable, they have grad!Jally
· · gone out of fashion ; and now no book is published in folio,
~nless a large page is required for exhibiting illustrations, or
80me similar purpose.
A quarto, or 4to volume is one whose sheets are folded into
. . ,; four leaves or eight pages. An octavo, or 8vo, consists of sheets
•. divided into eigh t leaves or sixteen pages each; and so a duo·
-. decimo, or 12mo, a lGmo, 18mo, 24mo, 32mo, 48mo, and 64mo,
denote volumes composed respectively of sheets folded into
. twelve, sixteen, eighteen, twenty-four, thirty-two, forty-eight,
·· and sixty-four leaves.
ti1:

· ' What docs the character ~ denote ? What, the characte·r @ p Learn tho Mtrono·
' mien! marks.
'
§ 210. Wh en is a book said to be in foli o P On what cloes the size ofa folio volume
depend? W ere foli o volum es form erly mor<' or less in vogue than at pr-0sent? Why
' have th ey gone out of fashion? What is mennt by a quarto volume? an octavo? a
12mo? a lGmo? "24mo? n 32mo? a 4Smo? a G4mo?

7*

VARIETIES

154

OF

TYPE.

§ 211. KINDS OF TYPE.-There arc differen t sizes
of which th e following are most used:-

English,

abcdefgbij klmnopqrs tuvwxyz.

Pica,

abcdefghij klmnopq rstu vwxyz.

Small Pica, abcdefghijkli11nopqrstuvwxyz.
Long Primer, abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz.
Bourgeois,
abcdefghij klmnopq rs tuvwxyz.
Brevicr,
.Minion,
Nonpareil,
Agate,
P earl,

abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz.
abcdefghijklmnopqrstn vwxyz.
•

nbcdefghijklmn opqrstu vwxyz.
nbcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz.
n bed cfg h ijk Imnopq rs! u vw :ryz.
n.bcdefghljklronopqnituvw.xyz.

Putting matter in type is technically callcd composiug, or setting 1tp. I ·
The amount of matter composed is estimated in ems, or spaces of the .
lenght of the lett er m; which differ, of course, according to the size of the .
type employed.
, .,
By Leads ar e meant thin plates of type-metal, with which the lines _.'
are sometimes separated. ·when these plates are employed, the matter .. .'
is said to be leaded; when not, solid.

'§ 212. lTALics, so called from their having been fir st used ·
by Italian printers, are letters inclined to th e right, like those
in which this clause is printed; and are indicated in manu- ·
script by a line drawn under the words to be italicized. They '
are used for emphatic, importaut, and cont.rastcd terms ; for
words and sentences introduced to illustrate rules ; for names
of newspapers, vessels, &c. i and for words and quotations
~
from foreign languages.
1.
As no more definite rule for their use can be given, the composer '
must exercise his judgment in deciding when they may with propriety. '
be employed. It is necessary only to caution him against using them · _. .
too freely. Like every thing else, when made familiar, they lose their : · ·
effect; and, besides offending the eye, tend rather to perplex the reader, '
than to aid him in determining what is r eally emphatic.
'
' In the English Bible, italics are not used fo1· emphatic words; but j ·
§ 21t Mention the different sizes of type, in order. What Is m eant by com posing, "
or setting np, type? How is the amount of composed matter estimated? Wh at ls an ;
ein f Wl1at ar e kads? What is m eant by leaded mntler? Whnt, by solltl?
§ 212. Describe ilalics. Why nre they so called? How are t hey indicated in manu.: ·
script ? For what are .they used? What is the effect of employ in g th em too freely?
In the Bible, wh at do italics denote?
·

GRAMMATICAL INACCUR.t..CIES.

155

for such as are wanting in the original Hebrew or Greek; and were introduced by the translators to complete or explain the meaning.

§ 213. RUNNING TITLES, or HEAD· LIN Es, consist -of a word
or words placed at the top of a page to show the subject of
· which it treats. They are usually printed in-capitals or small
, • ~apitals. Such headings, when placed over chapters and para. ' graphs, are known as CAPTIONS and SuB·HEADS ; and as SIDE·
. •'-HEADS, wh ~ n commencing the first line of the paragraph to
which tbey refer .
· § 214. Tho first page of a book contains the title, and is
therefore styled the TITLE-PAGE. A plate facing it is known
, as the FRONTISPIECE. A small ornamental engraving SQme·, times found on tho title-page, and often at the commencement
of chapters, is called a VIGNETTE. This term means ~little
vine; and the engraving in question was so designated from
the fact that originally a vine, or a wreath of vine-leaves,
, ·was the favorite form for such ornaments.
, · i
In old books, printers were in the habit of placing
'under the last line of each p_!lge the word with which the fol.
.lowing page was to commence, either as a guide in the arrangement of tho pages, or to prevent hesitation on the part of the
reader while turning from one to another. These are called
they are now no longer used.
·

--..--

LESSON XXXI.
GRAMMATICAL INACCURACIES.
·.Sl>l

;.. § 215. WHATEVER merits of style or thought an author may
possess, or whatever applause he may temporarily receive, he
. ' cannot expect permanently to hold an honorable position in
f § 213. Of what do running tltloo, or b ead-lines, consist? How are they usually
printed? When placed over chiipters and paragraphs, what aro such headings called?
]'hat is m eant by sirle-heads?
.- § 214. What is mennt by the titl e-page of a book? What, by the frontispiece?
:What is a vignette? Wliat is the meaning of this term, and why Wll8 the ·engraving
In question so cnllecl?
l ' In old books, what was placed nt th e bottom of ench page? What were these
words cnllecl ?

-

---.~- ..

156

I
. l

..'
~

GR.AJIIMATI(JAL IN Ac9uRACIES.

literature, unless he is thoroughly acquainted with the rules
of grammar, and observes them in composition. ·without a
preparatory knowledge of this art, but little benefit can be de~ 1
rived from exercises in rhetoric. Before entering on the lat·
ter study, therefore, it is expected that the student will not,· .
only have made himself familiar with the principles of language:.
in general, but will also have devoted particular attention to th~
grammar of his own tongue : it is presupposed that he is well
versed in its etymology; that he can analyze or parse its sen· ·
tences; and that he has intelligently applied its rules in tho:
correction of false syntax. Y ct, even :ifter such preparation,"·
when he comes to the construction of original sentences, he_.
will inevitably find that in guarding against the violation or'
one principle he often overlooks another; and th:it, notwithstanding his utmost care, he is occasionally betrayed into in:r
accuracies, and even solecisms. If this is the case with one·
who is conversant with grammar (and that it is, the pages of ·
many well-educated writers conclusively show), how liable to'
error must those be whose acquaintance with the art is imper-'
feet or superficial ! While the latter are advised to pursue ~
complete course of sy~tax with the aid of some standard text-:
book, the author has d~emed it proper to insert here for their
benefit, as well as that 6f all whose memory may need refreshing on these essential points, a few rules covering those cases'
in which he has found that beginners are most liable to err. .
§ 216. ·when two or more adjectives belong to a noun with which"
there is occasion to use the article also, the latter is placed before the.f
first adjective alone if reference is made to a siugle object, but before
each if several objects are referred to. Thus: "A white and red flag"
signifies one flag, partly red and partly white; "a white and a red flag".
means two flags, one red and the other white. Do not, therefore, omit
the article before the last adjective, unless it is clear that but one thing
is intended.
§ 217. The possessive case and the word that governs it must not be
§ 215. ·whnt is essential to an honorable position in literature? What is expected of
the student before he enters on the stu<ly of rlietor!c?
§ 216. State the prin ciple rclatlog to the u se of tho article before a noun \'dth which
several ar.ljcctiYes are connected. (Give c:xnmples In ench case.)
'~

GRAMMATICAL INACCURACIES.

·- -·

-- - ----157

rebparnted by an intervening clau~e; thus, "The knave thereupon com. Dieilced rifling his friend's, as he facetiously called him, pocket," must
,, be changed to "The knave thereupon commenced rifling the pocket of
' his friend, as he focctio.usly called him."

.;l §

218.· In addressing the same person, do not, in the p.rogress of a sentence, use pronouns of different number; but preserve either the singular
Jl-:'the plmal throughout. Thus, it is_wrong .to say, "I, owe thee a heavy
4cbt of g1'atitudc, nnd will you not Ullow me to repay it?" "\Ve should .
ha~ either" I owe yoii a heavy ·<].ebt," or,-" and wilt thou not," &c.
;ri• § 21,IJ. Each is singular;· and n. pronoun or verb agreeing with it
must also be singular; as, "Let them depend each on his own exertions," not their own.
: So, several nouns preceded respectively by each, every, or no, whether
c~nnected by and .or not, require a singular verb and pronoun; as,
, "~very lancer and every rifleman was at his post."
· '
' l'Jl. § 220. Recollect that, under all circ~1mstances, a verb must agree with
its subject in j1erso11 n.nd number. When a plural substantive is introduced between a singular subject and its verb, be careful not to put the
erb in the plural.- "Too great a variety of studies perplex and weaken
the judgment." Variety, the subject, being in the singul~r, perpl~ and
.flJeaken should be perplexes and weakens.
·
~
'
.
. § 221. When in two connected clauses the leading verb is in the pres·~nt or the fu ture tense, the. dependent one must not be in the past. ' Thus, ia the sentence, " Ye will not oome unto me that ye might have
'lif~," might is wrong, because it is connected in the J?ast tense with the
leading verb will come, which is future: 1'£igl;t have should be changed
tc> ,may have, which is present.
,
:. ,."< On the .other hand, if the leading verb is in the· past tense, the dependent verb must. lie pas.t also. Thus, in the example last given, if will
~me were changed to would come, might ha~e would be correct; ·as, "Ye
' w zd not come unto me that ye m~ght have life."
,.
.
'; § 222. Two -1verbs connected by a conjunction without separate

..

§ 217. State tho principle that relates to tho position of the possesslye case and the
-,, ,ord tbnt governs it.
· ' § 218. What is to bo obscrye1l respecting the use of pronouns in the progress of a
llebtence?
c § 219. What number Is each r What number must a pronoun or verb agreeing with
It be 1 State the other rule lnlrl down in this section.
: § 220. Gi>e the rule for the agr<'mnent of the verb? What common error must bo
avoided?
• i: § 221. What Is the rule for th o tenses of tho lending ancl the dependent verb in con>.~ected clauses ?
·

. ·'

158

GRAllIMA TI CAL IN ACCUllACIES,

GRAMllfATICAL INACCURACIES.

159

Congenial to.
Conversant with men ; with or i11
thing~ : about and among are
sometim es used.
~opy after a person ; from n. thing.
Correspond with
Die of.a disease;. by an instrument
or v10lenee.
Disappoi~ted of what w e fail to obtam; in what does not answer
. our exp~ctation s, when obtained.
Enlrnu..:c rnto.
Expert in, at.
Followed bit.
,\lilil:ife a!J,;inst .
.Profit by.
RPeon,.i le (i;i fri <'nd '- hil') to ; (lu
make consistent) with.
Tic.Ju,, t: (s uLJue) under; (in other
cases) to.

,,
§ 222. 'Wbnt is mid of tho mood of two verbs connect.id by n conjunction? H
mny sentences in which this rule Is violated be corrected?
·.'
§ 223. Whnt verbs m nst not be confounded? Conj ugate tho transitive verbs
1·aise, set. Conjngnte tho inlransitivos lie, 1·ise, sit.
§ 224. Glvo tho rul e relating to 1mxiliaries.
§ 225. What is the objective of the relative who, nnd wh~n must It be used?
§ 226. Wh qt part of spc~ch must not be introduced to go \·ern the obj ect of a tru..
silh·c verb?
§ 227. What must not be ns~<l for the infinitive?

iaJ,

'l
I

• 22_8. By whnt must certnin words b e followed?
T b
.
en applicable? T o how mnn
° ow many obJccts Is
followed?
y, amon(f f By what must verbs denollng entrance
,.t 229. What must not he

conn~ctcd

\\' ith t ho snmo obj ect ?

!'I
I

l

EXERCISE IN FALSE SYNTAX.

160

EXERCISE IN FALSE SYNTAX.

.lfhe was a good man, why do you accuse him f-I would be obliged to
:vou if you will lend me that book.-! should like it if you will go.-We
Jnformed him of the diffi cult.y, thnt he may b e prepnrc<l for it.-11iey
·;will study, if th<>y could be sure of taking t he first prize.-Let me feel
that I can succeed, and I wonld work hard to accomplish it.-Cultivate
•',the acquaintance of the -learned; for they might be of service to you.
,
U NDER § 222. Ile -writes and can rcad.-Many p ersons can command
'.'lotlieir passions, but will not do so.-He would neith er go himself nor
·sent his servant.-! am engnged in a great work, and would not leave it
for one of less importance.-Thcy might have been happy, and now are
.convinced of it.

LESSON XXXII.
f

.

'

EXERCISE

(

Con.n.EcT

(

IN

FALSE

ii

SYNTAX.

· 1 ......
the grammatica
'"'-'rrors in the following

tences : -

I

.

··: 1-·

I old and new ma11s10n is a fine grovf.l ·of
216. Be.tween t idc L ' . p1·cscntcd to the invcntor.-The
11 ,1,1 cl ~ i1 ver me a wc1 c
·
·
A h'te,
A
trees.- go l ' " "
. vcr different pcrso nngcs.- · w 1
educated n.nd uneducated. mn.n ~de frofi the . castlc.-A white, red, and
red, n.ncl blu e flag! was d1sl?ia.Y l
ti -This veil of fl esh rarts th!
ere d1splayecl trom t tc ens e.
I
b t ho
bl fl
ue ag, "'· . .
'
11 Tl 1·ist n.nd prese nt we 'now, u w
visible n.ud rnvrn1bl c wor ~ . - ic ~;·~t n.nd sccoml st.anzn.-A red ~nd
can guess th? fntm c 1-S!1t1~ tl~1 ·c 'are a r ed and white rose, growrng
white rose 1s a great ran j . - Cl '
'
togeth er on the same bush.
. 1 . 11
11 him)
r · · , (~ statesman we can 1aH Y ca
UNDER§ 217. Thi s po itTan \ ~r n~st .of' his fricnds.-Richard the
dishonorable course has al Ide ~a eh. t1 y .glorious career mn.de him tlie
. 1
t d' as h e is sty e m is or '
'
II d h.
Lion- rna.r e s!
h b
u to extol the farm er's, ns she ca e
1!111
idol of )us subjects.--:S e ce~~t' fi d fault with the poets' of tho Midi
excellent unclerstanchng.:- 1! ics n .'
7
s metncal rnaccuracies.
•
dle Ages nmnerou
'
te<l us n nd shall we not h onor you iU NDER § 218. Thou hast pr~te~
th er efore rely on my execut~g
To thee I owe man.y fov_ors, an :you 1 'a
· e to obey· let me, therethy commaud.-'T1s th'.ue to comman 'mrn
'
·.~ ..
UNI>ER §

,i

nay

fo1'e, know your pleasm~.
f I
el and the king of Jullnh sat each OI
UNDER§ 219. The kwg o ms1~~hc'r better than th emsch·cs.-Everi
their t hrone.-Let each. estce f + .t - E·ich of t h e sexes should kee.P.
p assenger mu st hold thc11· ow n ,rn,e: u;c~nsclvcs with the n.dvantng,
withi1~ its pr.oper ~ound~, n~ c1~11~L~f1~ur principal schools h ave each. .
of the11· part1cu~a1 sphe1 ~. r o bone every mu scle, every fibre, of~
grammar of the!r own.- v c Y . 1 ' f ever twirr every drop of wa
arc kno_wn t? Ins Crcfto{"-Evc;_; h~~ ;. cacII° mog;ent, bring their o
teem with hfe. -Ea~ 1 t ay, e~~
no tri·tl no temptation, are to be
temptations.-No pam, no par. mg, t'tlr~
frt>Nlnm of ~rf'(•<>h. if they
cn1rntcrC'd tl1rrc.-E,-_r1:Y man i ~ rn/ Every botly trembled for th
not pervert it to the lllJUry of othe ~·-passed through scenes which· ":·!/;
selves or their fri ends.-Every one as . .

1

l
!

I

·I

to'

rul es of the scl~ool ar~
urders robberi es, fires, and ncc1dents, ;
quired.-The column of m
j 1 an oLher department of a ne
more n.ttractiv~ t? many r_ea~~~s \~a;}roii~ht to the poor.-The train _
pape1·.-Glacl t.1d111~s of g1 e~
y Tl ·ee ri'ionths' notice are required .
our ideas ~r~ often rnterr~p e . --S:~en men's assertion arc better t.
fore a pt!p1l 1tsl alloS'Ye~~ont~~;=~iourn among t h ese mountains hav:e
one mans on 1 . - ix
·
J
. · •
stored me to perfect heall.h.
.
. h h'
UNDER§ 221. If he dislikes you, why did yon associate wit
.1 ~

indelibly impressed
U NDER

on.:l~::::~:s';~~ to the

§ ~20. Pe1 e

J

161

::i•

UNDER §

223. 13y lay ing abed late in the morning, you lose a tenth.

of your lifc.-Take not up what you have not lain down.-The
price of new-In in <>ggs has raised.-He lay himself out to please us.-The
ll' wicked man lays in wait for his a<lversary.-The ship sat sail at eight
!'o'clock, aud we set OH the deck till miduight.-Ye have sat at nought all
fmy couuscl.-IIe sits a horse well. (In this sentence sits is correct,
' 1being used trnnsitfrely.)
1part

UNDEn. § 224. Some dedi cations may serve for any book that has, is,
.,or shall, be publishcd.-He neith er has, nor will, gain anything by this
, llcourse.-llc may have, and I thiuk did, esteem her.-He doth leave the
'nety and 11ine, goes into the mountains, and seeks that which is gone
astray.-! did go, and answered my accusers.-No man iu this world
' has, or will be, p erfectly happy.-! ha>e labored as much as a person in
my situation can.
..

1

UNDER§ 225. Few men have friends, who, under all circumstances,
they can trnst. Th ey slew Varus, who in a former chapter I have l1entioned.-Who should I meet the other day, but my old friend ?-Be careful who you trust.-Do you kuow who yon are speaking to ?-There are
some who, though we do not like them, we cannot h elp respecting.Who have we here?

i

UNI>ER § 226. Let me consider of the matter.-Great benefit may be
reaped from rrading of history.-Ilis servauts ye are to whom ye obey.I shall comm ence by premising with a few observations.-\Ve cannot
allow of any interfcrence.-The peasants do not seem to want for any
'thing.-Th e prisoner declined answering to the judge's questions.-Of
this we hav e considercd.-She was afraid to enter in the room.
UNI>ER s; 227 . 'J'fi p gnM1 m:rn tri ('q t n li1 e n ' r.,, ,1 <1 <·, ig11 cd hilll l (0. -1
• :will aLLeud Lhc meeting myself, and indnee nll my frirnd s to.-Explaiu
I.his poiut, or nsk your friend to.-The book is so uninteresting, that I
ave not read it through, and never expect to.
~· UNDER § 228. Your affairs have been manngcd in a different manner
than what I adviscd.-Lct us profit from the misfortunes of others.-\\Te
e often disappointed in things whi ch we seemed sure to obtain.-Wc
are often disappointed of t.hin~8 wliirh hrforc rnsc;essio1L }Jl'OtlJi$CU llllleh
uoymeut.--t-locrates was n.ccused fur having 111troduced innovations in
ligion.-Co11fh1e on the virtuous, nnd rely in those who have not deceived you.-Such a course is attend ed by many dangers.-Catiline fled
from Rome, attended with a few followers.-Bestow favors to the deaerving only.-Many die nnnually from the plngue.-How can this fact
be reconciled to his statements ?-How many ridiculous customs have

·'

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~.

p
..\

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162

EXERCISE IN FALSE SYNTAX.

been brought in use during the last hundred years.-Let your actions
correspond to your professions.-The Anglo.Saxons soon quarrelled be-:
tween themselves. -Virgil has often been compared to liomcr.-Good
humor may be compared with the sun, which sheds light on all
around.
UNDER§ 229. It is w ell when pupils love, and entertain r espect for,
their tenchers.-:Music naturo.lly has a great charm for, and power over,
th e young.-No one ought to injure, or wound the feelings of, his
neighbor.-Poetry h as a natural alliance with, and often strongly ex·
cites, our noblest emotions.-End,eavor to alter, or rather prevent the
introduction of, so p ernicious a foshion.-Good men are not always
found, as regards their views aml conduct., consistent with, lmt, on the .
other h and, are often opposed to, each other.
"

·"

PART III.
RHETORIC.

J_,ESSON XXXIII.
PROVI NC E

ii_§230.

AND

OIJ.JECT S

OF

JUfETOJt!C.

'l'Le word H1rnTomc is derived from the Greek

t~- p{w, to speak, and in its primary signification had refersolely to the art of oratory ; in this sense, moreover, we
~•a generally used by ancient writers. As, however, most
! rules relating to the composition of matter intended for
ery are equally applicable to other kinds of writing, in
urse of t.ime tlie nwnning of tho term wns naturnJl y cxed; so that even as early as in tho age of Aristotle it w~
i~h reference to produ-ctions not designed for public rec~:

.+

•

.t the present day, Rhetoric, in its widest acceptation,
1rehends all prose composition; and it is with this signi,n-we here use the term : in its narrowest sense, it is
d to persuasive speaking.

~~What Is tho derivation of the word 1·hetoric 1

.l
.f

I

·a
I

.,,

What did it originally signify?

'bas it since been extended P In Im widest acceptation, what doe.a It eomf,

164

PROVINCE AND OBJECTS 01? HIIE'l'Ufi!C.

PROVINCE AND OJJJECTB OF RHETomc.

165

§ 231. Th e ancients . thought it necessary fur one who. . ~j · As a science, it investigates, analyses, and defines the
would mast er this subject to s tudy with care everything COi\
)~~.ciples of. go.otl writi~g; as an art, it enables us t~ apnectecl with the great object proposed, the conviction of th~
,.PJy these prrnc1plcs, or rn other words teaches us the best
hearer or r ea der ; and with this view so me rhetoricians intr
}rle.~hod of communicating our thoughts.
duced i;1to their system Treatises on Law, l\Iorals, Politics,
. VAll art is founded on science. The relation between the two is th 11t
&c., on the ground that no 0110 co uld write or speak well o.
Gt:'otfspring
and pnrcnt. V aluablo knowledge always leads t o some
,. .
these subjects without properly understanding them. Quin.
practical re~ult.; nntl pra~tica~ ~kill is · rarely of general utility or ex~d~d apphcat10n, unless it or1g111atcs in knowledge. On the most subtilian even im;ists on Yirtuc as essential to the perfect oratott
because an audience is necessarily infiueuced by the considerii . , lijlle,?f sciences, foi· iu stance, theology and ethics, is founded the most
~portant of m:ts, the art of living. So, from abstract mathematical
tion that candor, truth, and uprightness, distingui sh the
,'f,\~nce are d er~v:d th: arts of the surveyor, the architect, the navi.son addressing th em. 'fhis; howevc1:i is assumi1_1g too muc~
rp,to'., a~d t~e c1v1l cngmeer. ~or can it be denied that their practical
As th e art of architecture has notl11ng to do with the colle~ · . ppl~cation m these arts constitutes the chief value of mathematical
tion of materi als, though without materials it is impossible to,· · ~dies; and thnt, were they not so applied, they would be as much
build ; so a knowledge of the subject of which the orator O• .~eglected a~ they nro now cultivated. In ·Jike manner, it is on account
·~}ta practical uti li ty that W1ctoric is deemed worthy of a prominent
cssavist is to treat constitutes no part of the art of Hhctoric
.J
'
'
~~e among the branches of a polite education .
though essential to its successful employment: nor does vii'
· ~; § 233 . As an art, Rhetoric Las been classed by some
tue whatever unction it may impart to the words of a writer
'
. ' .png the useful arts, the object of which is to aid or benefit.
or speaker, fall within the province of this art any more tha
ina?kind ; by othcni, among the elegant arts, which aim sim- .
wealth or rank, which are also likely to produce a prejudice in
f
r!
.
p,ly to please. It seems, however, to partake of the nature of
"
h 1s avor.
~th; and may therefore with propriety be denominated a
Some modern writers, in imitation of the ancients, nud wit.It n greater
Jl!.i:xed
art.
s~o;v of justice, have intr~duc~d Inve ntion ns a divi~'.on of ~.het~ric; \1\l

;~

•

.,

per·

.!

~
I

:

•

·~ f :

s1strng that even perfcct.1011 m the art of exprcssmg, nuangrng, ~4.
beauti fying, is valueless, unless the thoughts to be so treated ~
judicious nnd npprt>priat.c.
But the same obj ection here appli.
Rhetoric, properly spcnking, hns 110 r eference to the creation of though ·
but merely tu the manner of expressin g them. The rules nnd principl
of Invention, h owever, though independent of the a.rt under conside ,
tion, must be cnrcfully sLl!llicd in cunncctiun with it, by nil who wo
give effect to their compositions. This. subject will
. h ereafte r receive.·;
tention ; we shall first proceed to co11s1dcr Rhetoric proper.

§ 232. 11,hetoric may be r egard ed as either a science

o~:

§ 231. What tlid the Rncicnls regard ns esse ntial to tho nrnstcry of this ;a,rt
Whnt did some rh e.toricinns lutroclncc into t heir syste m'? \Vh nt <lo cs Quintil ·
consider essen tial to the perfect orntor? Is this just? Il111 ~tra te the ca~ e by a co
pnrioon with tlie art of architecture. Wlrnt ham some rn0tlern wri ters introduce4
n divi sion of rh eto1fo? \Vh"t objection is there to this? \\' hat Is mid of the rul~~
principles of invention ?

·. : Both the elegant nnd the useful al'ts are founded on experience, but
aiff~r in thcil' origin nnd growth. The latter, being the offspring of
ijceesity, arc cultivated eve n in the ruder stages of society; whereas
..~.formel' have thei r origin in leisure, and are disregarded until proon has been made for the bodily wants. The useful arts, however,
, ough first to originate in a community, are s}ower than the fine arts
~ their progress towal'ds p erfection. Thus, modern workmen im--- ·
~urably excel the ancients in the art of ship-building; and _how far

'§,~2. How may rh etoric bo regarded? As n science, wliat Is Its province? What,
• ,an art? What Is tho relation of nrt to science ? On whnt sciences is the art iirTiving
~dcd? From nbstrnct mathematical science whnt arts are derived? What coast!- the chief vnlne of math ematics? In like mnnaer, why is rhetoric deemed an !mat branch of e<ln cation? ·
t2S3. What is t he ohjcct of lh e useful nrts? \Vhnt, of the elegan t arts? · To which
; rhetori c belong? On what nrc both t he useful nnd the elegant arts fonnd ed? In
+ do th ey differ?
At what period of n nation's history do they respectively·
ate?
ow the dllfcren co In their development and progress towards perfection. Illus-

} .

'

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I

!

l'

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I

t·

I
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.I~

I

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} '

L

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l

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1·

iI

1·

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.t

t.

i

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166

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1:

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(·

PROVINCE AND OBJEC'l'S OF IUIETORIC.

PROVINCE AND OBJECTS OF RHETORIC.

167

this superiority may be carried by means of future discoveri es and ~
,
hours. Thorough acquaintance with the principles of an art
pt·ovements, no one can say. In literatnrc, h owever, we find the revel'SI
: doubles the pleasure we receive from it; and one whose taste has been
to be the case; while naval architecture was yet comparatively in )
;cultivated by assiduous study of the philosophy of criticism will find, on
infancy, the art of composition reached so high a <l cgrce of perfectjo11
·'almost every pnge, beauties which the common reader overlooks, is inamong the Greeks, that modern times, with all their genius nn<l learnin
'bapable of appreciating, and consequently entirely loses. A love for the
have produced nothing superior to the master-pieces of antiquity. •.,h
standard master-pieces of literature is thus awakened; and he who has
the rapidity of its development, as w ell as the zenl with which it e
: ~orice · acquired such a relish is in no danger of being a burden to himclcavors to please by elaborate embellishment, lthetorie partakes of tJ.;:is:;;_;;;.;Belf, or of y .i~•ldi ng Lo the sed11etio11s of false ariil des!.ructi ve pleasures.
nature of the elegant arts; it resembles the useful arts in its utility, WI
. w • ! These studies, however, do more thari entertain and please; they
may almost say its absolute necessity to mankind, as facilitating th
---··improve the un<lcrst.auding. 'l'o apply the principles of souw.l criticism
,
~eans of communication.
to composition, lo examine what is beautiful and why it is so, to dis1
i ('.·~ > r' § 234. From the study of Rhetoric, two great advantag'
,tinguish between affected and real ornaments, can hardly fail to improve
result : first, it enables us to discern faults and beauties in the:
' in the most valuaLle department of philosophy, the philosophy of
compositions of others; and, secondly, it teaches us how~W
human nature. Such examinations teach us self-knowledge. They
' "necess_a rily lead us to reflect on the operations of the judgment, the
express and embellish our own thoughts, so as to produce .\~
•¥imagination, and the heart; and familiarize us with the most refined
most forcible impression.
•l
feelings that ennoble our race. Beauty, harmony, grandeur, and eleThe first of these r esults, were there no other, would be
~11;gance; all that can soothe the mind, gratify the fancy, or move the
recompense for the labor involved in pursuing a rhetorical course. ·Nor,
· affections,-belong to the province of these studies. They bring to
it must be remember ed, is this labor great. The questions that ar!f.1
-~~ght various springs of action, which, without their aid, might have
exercise our reason without fatiguing it. They lead to inquiries, ac;
passed unobserved; and which, though delicate, often exercise an im1
but not painful; profound, but neither dry nor difficult. They ke
•· p0rtant influence in life.
the mind active, but do not require from it the effort necessary fo~
1~ Lastly, the cultivation of taste by the study of belles-lettres has in
investigation of purely abstract truth.
\j
all ages been regarded as an important aid in the enforcement of
By a trifling expenditure of time and attention, we are thus en.ab .
~orality. Let the records of the world be canvassed, and we shall
to judge of literary productions for ourselves, to weigh in the balanot
find that trespasses, robberies, and murders, are not the work of refined
of taste and criticism, and form our opinions independently of oth .•
.men; that though, in some instances, the latter have proved unequal to
We are not obliged to give or withhold our admiration as the world
temptation, and are betrayed into gross crimes, yet they constitute the
the critic may decide.
exception and not the rule. Nor does the study of rhetoric operate ·as
Nor is this independence the only advantage gained. The study
7J.1"
b elles-lettres* furnish es a never-failing means of entertainment fo( o
.'1
and geometry; one author even goes so far as to introduce in a treatise
fa
on the subject a discourse on the seven sacraments of the Roman Catho* BELLES-LETrRES, the general term used in the French language .
·· lie Church. At the Lyceum of Arts in Paris, the department of bellesdenote the art of which we are treating and kindred sul)jects, is exce
· ettres comprehends genernl grammar, languages, rhetoric, geograingly indefinite in its signification, being by some writers liT?-ited.,
phy, history, antiquities, and numismatics. In this country, the term is
rhetoric and poetry, and by others made to embrncc natural plulosop
gen~rally ~~e~ in a more limited sense, to ~eno~e polite literature, in----------------------------·~
' 'r.....
~udmg crit1c1sm, taste, the pleasures of the irnagmation, &e.
trate this by a comparison of nnvnl architecture with literature.
1"11eturic resemble the elegant arts? In what, the useful nrts?
•ft-''
§ 234. ·what adv\\ntnges result from tho stncly of rhetoric? \Vhnt is said of the ...
of these? Is much labor involv ed in pursuing a rhetori cal course ? What dpm
trifling expenditure of time enable us to do? What other advnntnge is gained?.'- .
Is tho pleasure received from tho creations of art greatly increased?
What term do the French apply to rhetoric and kindred brau cho8?

l(JJ'

· ~ .by some embraced under this head? At the Lyceum of Arts in Paris, what does
~e department of belles-lettrcs comprehend? As used in this country, what dues the

term signify?
; Besld~s entertainment, " -hat mny 'rn gnln from the study of belles-Iettres? What
crltlcal exnminntions tench ns?
What else rcsnlt.~ from tho cult! vntlon of t11Bte by tho study of belles-lettres? What

;

.

168

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I,

TASTE.-ITS UNIVERSALITY AND CULTIVATION.

rnOVINCE AND OBJECTS OF IlHETOnIC.

a preventive to the more heinous offences only; it clcvntcs the tone of1"
the mind, increases its sensibility, cnlnrgcs the sphere of its sympathies,~
and thus enables it to repress its selfishness and restrain its more violent'\~
emotions. To a man o{ acute and cultivnted tnste, every wrong action;~
whether committed by himself or another, is a source of pnin; and, if·'.
he is the transgressor, his Ji vely sensibi lity brings him ba ck to duty;-"
with renewed resolutions for the future. Even the highest degree of1
cultivation may, to be sure, prove insufficient to crallicate t he evil pas· '<, ·
sions; yet its tendency will certa inly be to mitigate their violence. The
poet has truly said:-

'
.
carpenters
or expert shoemakers. Proficiency
in either vocation is the
result of study and practice. It is not necessary that, while composing,
t4e writer should keep rules constantly before him, and thus make his
style mechanical and lifeless. But the principles of his art should be so
familiar to h is mind, as, without consciousness on his ·p art, to control its
action. He thus intuitively avoids what is wrong, while there is nothing
to prevent his sentences from being as easy, natural, and unconstrained,
-8!1 those of the loosest and most ignorant scribbler.
.,
_.

"These polished nrts hnYc humnnfzcd rnnnklnd;
Softened the ruclc, and cairned the boisterous mind."

Noble sentiments and high examples, constantly brought before
mind, cannot fail to b eget in it a love of glory, and an admiration of
what is truly great. Though these impressions may not always be''
durable, they are at least to be ranked amo11g the means of disp?sing•
the heart to virtue.
· .t

§ 235. As an aid in enabling us to communicate our;.
thoughts in the best manner, it would seem as if the value od
rhetoric would be obvious to all i yet there are some who veri•
ture to call it in question. Rules, they say, l1 amper the minq,fetter genius, and make stiff and artificial composers. The{
prefer leaving the writer, untrammelled, to chance or the in:'
spiration of the moment; ridiculing the idea of his inquiring,.,
while in the act of giving utterance to a thought, what is
quired, or what prohibited, by rule. This principle, if true.
of Rhetoric, obviously applies to logic, grammar, and even_
the elementary branches of education; and it follows thatf
through fear of cramping the natural powers, we should do
away with training of all kinds. The absurdity of this COi).•
clusion is manifest.

re·

Such reasoning can come only from n. shallow mind, which
thus excuse its own ignorance. A writer can not hope to attain per£
tion in his art, without paying due attention to its rules and principle'Sr
· Men are not born great composers, any more than they are born skilf\!1

169

.._ _ _

LESS ON XXXIV.
TASTE.-ITS UNIVERSALITY AND CULTIVATION.

». ~~ § 236. The rules of Rhetofic and Criticism, are not arbi,t~ary, but have been deduced from examinations and compari·

.W>,ns of those great productions which in all ages have elicited
~e - admiration of men. Striking passages have been ana~lzed; t~e peculiarities which render them pathetic, sublime,
~~ beautiful, have been investigated ; and thus rules have
:'been formed, by which the critic is enabled to judge of other
li~erary pcrfo~mances, and the writer is shown how to express
, s. thoughts rn such a way as to reproduce similar impres•~

.

• . '.Th~s, Aristot~e, who 1;-as the :first to lay down rules for unity of
19~1on m.dramatrc .and epic poetry, did not arrive at them by n. train
el mductive reasonrng, but by close observation of Sophocles and Homer.
.. ~r?eiving that these writers, by confining theru:;elves in each of their
Npec~ive w:orks to one action complete in itself, awakened deeper intkest m then· readers than those who combined unconnected facts he
~neralized the important principle that in the drama and the epic p~em
Is a constrained style likely to be tbe

fe elin g docs n "Tong nction gcncrnlly awaken in n man of cultirntccl taslo?
noble sentim ents nrnl high ex amples produce in the mind ?
§ 235. What ol.Jjcclion ls mncl e by some to the study of rh etoric?
prefer leaving tho writer? Expose the fal!Rcy of this objection.

§ 286. What i~ said of the rnles of rhetori c nnd criticism? Whence bave they been
ie\luced? Describo tho procc£s.
How clicl ,\,ristotJo nrrjve nt 41~ rules for unity
_a~tjon?
·
·
·

8

170

TASTE.-ITS UNIVETISALI'l'Y AND CULTIVATION.

unity of design is essential to success. All the rnlcs of the rhetorician,
have been deduced in a ~imilar ni:w11cr, 1u1ll 1uo thus based nt once oµ~
experience and nature.

§ 237. The works from which the principles of
are deduced, have, as already remarked; elicited the universal
admiration of men. This implies the existence in the huma~
mind of a faculty capable of forming opinions respecting the.~.-'
Such a faculty docs, indeed, exist ; nor is its action limited to .
the works of literature. It extends aliko to all the creations
of nature and art; and is known by the name of 'l'ASTE.
§ 238. TASTE may be defined as that faculty of the .mind
which enables it to perceive, with the aid of reason to Judge
of, and with the help of imagination to enjoy, whatever
beautiful or sublime in the works of nature and art.
The word taste is thus used metaphorically. It literally signifies the
sense residing in the tongue by which we distinguish different llav~rs,
aud is hence nppropriatcly applied to the analogous faculty of the ~mnd
which recognizes alike the most delicate beauties and ihe most mmu~
imperfections.
..
So contradictory are the definitions of Taste given by different au··
thors, so obscure is their language, and so inconsistent are many of then_i
with themselves, th~t it is difficult to ascertain their real views on the
subject. Hume calls Taste "a natural sen~ibi~ity ". I~ut.cheso~ ma~es it
a distinct faculty, p erfect in itself: he mamtams that it is ~n~1rel! mdependent of both judgment and inrngination, not only i:ccc1vrng 1mpr~ .
sions, but also passing judgment on them, and producrng tho pleasur~
arising therefrom· or in other words, that it perceives and at the same
time judges and e~1jo;s. With this view Blair for the most part agrees::
nor are Addison's views, as set forth in No. 409 of the Spectator, mater!·
ally different. An opposite theory is advocated by Burk.e and Aken·
side. The former unhesitatingly attributes the perception and the
enjoyment arising therefrom to entirely different faculties, confining
Taste to the perception. Akenside distinctly teaches thn.t all the plea·
sures connected with the sublime and beautiful havo their source in the
§ 237. Wbat docs tho general admlrntlon of the mnstcr-picccs of lltcraturo Imply In
the human mind? To what does this faculty oxknd? What is it C'.'Lllcd?
§ 238. What is Taste? What does this term litcrnlly signify? Wbnt is said of the
definilious of Taste given by dill'erent authors? Wbnt docs Hum e cnll Taste? SWe
Hutchoson's Ylcw. What writers agree with him In th o main? What is Ilurk~'I
thoorv?
Cousin's?
' '
. Akensldc's? Alison's?
.
.
. .. .

'!'ASTE.. ITS UNIYEI1SALI'l'Y AND CULTIVATION.

171

- \imagination. Aliso11, also, in parts of his Essay ably ad vocalics this
·theory; yd., wil.h Ril'angn i111•1111~i ~tency, in his very definition makes
. Taste "to be that faculty of the human mind by °\\'hich we perceive and
• f'Bnjoy whatever is b eautiful or sublime in the works of nature or art."
a'he French philosopher Cousin says, "Three faculties enter into that
1<iomplex faculty that is called taste,-imagination, sentiment, reason."
' ~entiment, according to this author, receives the impression; ·reason
1
.P,asses judgment on it; while imagination produces the sensation of
.~pleasure experienced by the mind.
~~- Amid these co~flicting theories, the author has adopted that which
s_eems to him Jen.st liable to ohject.ion.
_t..·· § 230. Taste is common, in some degree, to all men.
.ti.Even in children it manifests itself at an early age, in a fond·aiess for regular bodies, an admiration of statues and pictures,
. , :and a love of whatever is new or marvellous. In like manner,
!-the most ignorant arc delighted with ballads and talcs i the
.J!implest intellects arc struck \1·ith the beauties of earth and
·sky; and savageR, by their ornaments, their songs, and the
~rude eloquence of their harangues, show that along with rea< son and speech they have received the faculty of appreciating
~· _beauty. 'Ve may therefore conclude that the principles of
,Taste arc deeply and universally implanted in the minds of

·} men.

"~ . § 240. Though 'l'astc is common to all men, yet they by
no means possess it in the same degree. There are some en.· ~owed with feelings so blunt, and tempers so cold .aud phleg}matic, that they hardly receive any sensible impressions even
"from the most striking .o bjects; others are capable of appreci:'ating only the coarsest kind of beauties, and for these have no
· ::~trong or d~cided relish; while in a third class pleasurable
.emotions are excited by the most delicate graces. There
s~ems, indeed, to be a greater difference between men as re~pects 'l'aste than in point of common sense, reason, or judg.ment. In this Nature discovers her beneficence. In facul$;·i> § 239. What is snid of the univers1tlity of Taste? How does it manifest itself in
1
chlldren? How, In the ignorant ? H ow, In sarnges? What is tbe natural inference?
, ;~ § 240. Is Tnsto possr"'5ctl by nll m en in tho same degree? Whnt is snid of tho dif4 feronce between in<livi<ln'lls In this respect? How does natnro show her beneficence

f'

\

'·

·!

-

f ,

172

ties necessary to man's well-being, she nrnkcR little <listinction
between her chil<lrcu; whereas tliosc tliat bavc reference rather
to the ornamental part of life she bestows sparingly and ca-',
priciously, and requires a higher culture for Lri11gi11g them to
perfection.

1
1
l

'.

.

'
l·

This difference in the degrees of Taste posscsse<l by men is owing, in
a great measure, as we h:wc seen, to nature; which has endowe<l some _
with more sensitive organs thnn others, an<l thus made them capable of .
greater intellectual enjoyment. Y ct education h~s even more t~ do
than nature with the formation of Taste; a foct wl11ch b ecomes obvious
when we compare barbarous with enlightened nations in this respect; ,
or contrnst such individuals of the latter as have paid attention to liberal
studies with the uncultivaLed and vulgar, \Ve shall at once perceive
an almost incredible tliffereuce in the degrees of Taste which they respccti vcly possess,-a difference attributable to nothing bnt the education of the faculty in the one case and its neglect in the other.
.
Hence it follows that Taste is eminently an improvable faculty; and
. in the case of this, as well as all the mental and bodily powers, exercise is to be regarded as the great source of health and streugth.
Even the senses are r endered peculiarly acute by constant use. The
blind, for instance, who can make them~elves acquainted with the forllll'
of bodies only by their touch, and are therefore constantly employing
it, acquire exquisite sensibility; so that they can even rend fluently by
pu.ssiug their fingers over raised letters, In like manner, watchmakers,
engravers, proof-readers, and all who are accustomed to use the eye on·.
minute objects, acquire snrprising accuracy of sight in discerning with
ease what to others is almost invisible. Every one, moreover, has see~
the result of cultivating an ear for music. Ile who at first relishes only
the simplest compositions gradually appreciates finer melodics, and is at
last enabled to enjoy all the intricate combinations of harmony. So, an. .
eye for painting can not be acquired at once, but is formed by clo~~ •
study of the works of the b est masters.
)
It is thus that diligent study, and close attention to models of style,,
are necessary to a full appreciation of the great works of literature. On~,
slightly acquainted with the i)roductions of genius secs no more in the!I\ '•
than in common-place compositions; their merits arc lost upon him; he<
-----------------------------~

I.

ELEMEN'l'S AND CIIAUACTERISTICS OF TASTE.

'l'ASTE.-lTS UNIVERSALITY AND CUL'rIVATION.

in tho distribution of Tasto and common sense? What besides nature operates in the,
formation of Taste? How is this shown? How may Taste be improv ed?
,
Whnt effect hns exercise on the se~ses? Give examples, What is the resul~ o
cultivating nn cnr for music? How is an eye for painting acquired? What ls nereef_
snry to an appreciation of the great \Yl)rks of litcratnre?

173

pis,equally blind to their excellencies and

.

defect.~. ' His Taste, however,
becomes cultivated in proportion as his acquaintance with works of this
1
character is extended. Ile is gradually enabled, not only to form judg"b'.ients, but to give satisfactory reasons for them. His Taste is developed
and improved by exercise; just as the musician's ear and 1.he painter's eye are cultivated by a similar process.

---·--·-- LESSON XXXV.
ELEMENTS AND CHARACTERISTICS OF TASTE.

§ 241. TAsrn, we have seen, is founded on sensi1rflity; not,
however,
the sensibility of mere instinct, but that of reason.
I··
The judgment has so much to do with the operations and decisions of this faculty, that we must regard it as one of the
. essential clements of the latter. The mind may or may not
be' conscious of the train of reasoning by which it arrives at
its conclusions; Lut in most cases there must be such reasoni~g before taste can perform its functions. We are pleased
- through our natural sensibility to impressions of the beautiful,
, ~ided, as we shall presently see, by the imagination; but an
exertion of reason is first required, to inform us whether the
?bje~tti successively presented to the eye are beautiful or not.
~ .:· Thus, in reading such a poem as the LEneid, much of our gratificati9n arises from the story's being well conducted, and having a proper
2onnection between its parts; from the fidelity of the characters to . na
ture, the spirit with which they are maintained, and the appropriate
iiess' of the style to the sentiments expressed. A poem thus conducteo
. J'enjoyed by the mind, through the joint operation of the Taste and
· the imagination; but the former faculty, without the guidance of rea·
~n, could . form no opinion of the story, would be at a loss to know
whether it was properly conducted, and would therefore fail to receive
~

41·

§ 241. On what is Taste founded? What faculty, nevertheless, has much to do with
Ila decisions? Before Taste can perform its function s, what must take place? In read-

sii such

11

poem ns tho .iEneid, from what does much of our pleasure arise? Show

fl

---=----~ ---- -- ·

174

.'
. r

',~.:

ELEMENTS AND CHARACTERISTICS OF TASTE ..

ELEl\IENTS AND CHARACTERISTICS OF TASTE.

pleasure from its perusal. In like manner, whenever in works of Tnstc
an imitation of nature is attempted, whenever it becomes necessary
to consider the adaptation of mcm1s to an end, or the connection and
consistency of parts uniting to form a whole, the jullgmcnt must always
play an importnnt part.
'

tO the finest, minutest, and most latent objects, even when most inti-

In the operations of Taste, theu, two Jiffcrcnt clements
seem to have a share; first, a natural susceptibility or sensitiveness to pleasurable emotions arising from the contcmpla·
tion of beauty and sublimity; and, secondly, a souuJ judgment, to enable this faculty, with or without consciousness of
such assistance, to appreciate what is beautiful and sublime, '"
and admire it intelligently. To the exercise of this faculty, .,
however, in its perfection, a good heart is no less essential
than a sound head. Not only are the moral beauties superior to all others, but their influence is exerted, in a greater or.
less degree, on many objects of '.l'aste with which they are·.
connected. The affections, characters, and actions of men,
certainly afford genius the noblest subjects; and of these there;.
can be no due appreciation by minds whose motives and prin·
ciples conflict with those which they respectively contemplate ·
or describe. On the selfish and hard-hearted man the highest.
beauties of poetry are necessarily lost.
§ 242. The characteristics of Taste, in its most improved .
state, are reducible to two, Delicacy ancl Correctness.

'·.

'

Delicacy of Taste implies the possession of those finer organs
powers which enable us to discover bcauti~s that lie hid from the vulgar :
eye. It may be tested by the same process that enables us to estimate
the delicacy of an external sense. As the acuteness of the palate is .
tried, not by strong flavors, but by a mixture of different ones, each o( t
which, notwithstanding it is blended with others, is detected and recog":;
nized; so the Delicacy of internal Taste appears by a lively sensibili.t~l

:l
.j

, ,I
,.

t'

't

•

where th e exercise of juugment is necessnry. In wlrnt cases docs this fa culty always ' ·
play an important part?
What b\·o elements lrnvo a share in the operations of Tnsl:e ? To the cxerclso of . ·
Taste in its perfection, whnt Is essential? Show how this is the cnso. ·w1int effect havo .
tho high est hc:mlics of poetry on sclllsh men?
' .
· •t ·
§ 2-12. ·whnt nre tho chnrnctoristics of nn Improved Tasto? 'Whnt (looo dcllcnc.y of ~·
Taste imply? How mny It be tested? Show some of tho pccnllnrltlcs of a delicate

mately blended and compounded together. Marry have strong sensi. bility, yet arc deficient in Delicacy. They may be deeply impressed
by such beauties as they percci ve, but can perceive only what is coarse,
bold, or palpable ; chaster and simpler graces escape their notice. The
'?an of delicate Taste, on the other hand, has not only strength, but also
nicety, of feeling. Ile sees distinctions and differences which are lost on
others; neither the most concealed beauties nor the minutest blemishes
€scape him .
.. · Addison, in his Spectator, No. 409, gives a striking illustration of
delicacy of taste. " 'V c find," says he, " there are as many degrees of
r~finement in the intellectual faculty as in the sense which is marked out
by this common denomination. I knew a person who possessed the one
, .i,n so great a perfection, that, after having tasted ten different kinds of
ooa, he would distinguish, without seeing the color of it, the particular
sort which was offered him; and not only so, but any two sorts of them
that were mixed together in an equal proportion; nay, he has carried
,j;hE) experiment so far-, as, upon tasting the composition of three different
!?.rts, to name the parcels from whence the three several ingredients
' ~ere taken. A man of fine taste in writing will discern, after the same
. ~anner, not only the general beauties and imperfections of an author,
but discover the several ways of thinking and expressing himself which
.diversify him from all other authors, with the several foreign infusions
~f thought and language, and the particular authors from whom they
. r ere borrowed."

~ ~·

Correctness of Taste implies soundness of understanding.
It judges of every thing by the standard of good sense · is
. 'D~yer imposed on by counterfeit ornaments; duly estim~tes
•,~~e several beauties it meets with in works of genius; refers
~hem to the.ir proper classes; analyzes the principles from
JVhich their power of pleasing proceeds; and enjoys them ae.,
cording to their respective merits.
;l

;

175

: These two qualities, Delicacy and Correctness, though quite dis-

~inct, to a certain extent imply each other. No Taste can be ex-quisitely delicate without being correct, or thoroughly correct without
J>eing delicate. Still one or the other characteristic predominates.
Whnt striking llln strntion docs Addison givCI of delicacy of Taste? What does
·correctness of Tnsto i111ply? Ily whnt standard docs it judge of things? Show ho\v
•a correct Tnsto dcnls with works of gen ins. Whnt rclntion subsists between delicacy'
, and correctn ess ? Whnt critics amon g tho anci ents arc respectively distinguished for
•i dollcary and correctness of Taste? ·who, among modern critics?
·

.~
'

.l

.i

I
J

176

.;

ELEMENTS AND CHAfiACTERISTICS OF TASTE.

ELEMENTS AND CHAHACTERISTICS OF TAS1' E.

177

Among ancient critics, Longinus possessed most Delicacy ; Aristotle, ~
t>ine hunter takes pride in the swollen neck peculiar to his people; the
most Correctness. Of modems, none exceed A<l<lison in Delicacy; nnd
woman of fashion prefers rouge to the roses which nature has planted
few in Correctness equal Locke a11d Kames.
in her checks; and some intellects admire Jack the Ginnt-killer moro
§ 243. W c have thus far contcmplatc<l 'l'astc in its sound •
than the sublimest strains of the Epic Muse.
or healthy state ; we find, however, from our own experience,
t .' § 244. In view of such facts as these, it is natural to fall
as well as from the history of the past, that it is liable to
back on the trite proverb de gustibus non disputanduni,
change, and may in both individuals an<l nations become'
~.~ there is no <lisputing about tastes;" and to conclude that~ as
weakened and even vitiated. There is, inuee<l, nothing more ' ·
long a.s there is so great a diversity, all standards and tests
·fluctuating or capricious. The inconsistencies of this faculty, ~
must be arbitrary, and consequently worthless. But let ·u s
and the wrong conclusions at which it often arrives, have even :.
see to what this doctrine leads. If the proverb is true of
created in some a suspicion that it is merely arbitrary; that
Taste in its literal signification, it must be equally true of the
it is not grounded on invariable principles, is ascertainable by, other senses. If the pleasures of the palate are superior to
no standard, and is dependent exclusively on · the changing
criticism, t.ho se of sight, smell, sound, and touch, must be
fancy of the hour; and that th erefore all labored c1H1uiries
equally privileged. At this rate, we have no right to conconeerning its operations arc useless.
demn one who prefers tho ru<le head on a sign to Raphael's
One or two examples of the opposite Tastes which hav e prevailed irL ~-~ glorious creations, the odor of a decaying carcass to that of
different parts of the world, and the revolutions that hav e taken place'·
the most fragrant flower, or hideous discord to exquisite har·
from time to time in the same country, may here be eitcJ. with . proprie-,
. mony. This principle, applied to Taste in its figurative acceptation, is equivalent to the general proposition that, as re·
ty. In eloquence and poetry, nothing ha s cn r pleased th e Asiatics except the tumid, the ornamental, the artificial, auJ. the gauJ.y; whereas
the ancient Greeks, despising Oriental ostentation, admired only what·
gards the perceptions of i>ense, by which some things appear
was chaste and simple. In architecture, the models of Greece for een:
agreeable and others disagreeable, there is no such thing as
good or bad, right or wrong; that every man's Taste is to
turies met with general preference; subsequently, howeve r, the Gothic .
style prevailed to the exclusion of nll others; and this in tum was af-~
_· .~im a standard without appeal; and that we cannot, therefore,
terwards laid aside, while the Grecian was again received into popular,
properly censure even those who prefer the empty rhymester to
favor. Again, in literature, how completely opposite is the taste of the,'
M'l
n1 ~ ton.
.1.'he absurdity of such a position, when applied to expresent day to that which prevailed during the reign of Chnrles II..t'
N
•
1
t.r..emes, is manifest.
o one will venture to maintain that
.
Nothing was then in vogue but an affected brilliancy of wit; the sun~.·
ple majesty of Milton wns overlooked; lnborctl and u1111n.tural conclu-1
the Taste of a Hottentot or an Esquimaux is as delicate as
sions were mistaken for scintilln.tions of genius, sprightliness for tender-!
that of a Longinus or an Addison ; and, as long as this is the
ness, and bombast for eloquence. Examples of vitin.ted Tnste, whether;
.case, it must be admitted that there is some foundation for
we apply this term, literally, to the external sense, or, figuratively, to;
. th~ preference of one. man's Taste to another's, some standard
the internal faculty, rrieet us on all sides. The Hottentot smcn.rs hi~i
by which all may be judged.
body with putrid oil; the Greeulander delights in rn11ciJ. fat; tl~e Al7
.,
· l/' It must be observed that the diversity of men's Tastes does not
§ 243. How have we thus fnr contemplated Tasto ? To whnt do we find it liable r
What charnctcr does it sometimes assume in both indivlllun!s and nations? What sus- ·
picion have the Inconsistencies of this faculty produced In some? What example Is ;
cited of opposite Tastes in eloquence and poetry? in architecture? Compare tbe
literary taste of Charles ~econd's era with that of the present day. Give examples of '
vitiated Taste.

' § 244. What conclusion may naturally be drawn from this variety In T11Stes? Where
does this doctrine lcacl us? App;i ed to the faculty of Taste, to what Is this principle
eqnlrnlent? Show th e absurdity of such a position. If one man's Taste Is to be pref~rred to an0ther's, what must ex ist? In what case is divcrsi.ty of Tastes not only .a d·
ihl&>ible but to be expectccl? Show in what Tastes may c!ift~r and yet be correct.

8*

STANDARD OF TASTE.

{

I'

(

178

STANDARD OF TASTE.

necessarily imply incorrectness in any. Wh ere the ohjccts considered
are d1fferent, such diversity is not. only n<lmissible but to be expected;
One man r elish es poct1·y most; a11othc1· takes pleasure in hi!'to ry alone\
One prefcra comedy; another, tragedy. One admires the simple;
another, the ornamental. Gay nnd sprightly com positions pl ease the . ·
young; those of a graver cast afford more entcrlaiumcnt to the old.
Some nations delight in bold delineations of chnrnctcr null strong rcpre·
sentations of passion; others find superior charms in cl clicacy of
thought nnrl elegan ce of ilcoeripfion . 'l'hnn gh nll clifTcr, ycl'. nll Relcct
some one h cn.ut.y whi ch Rni bi I.heir pcculinr tone of mind; and therefore
no one has a right to condemn the rest. It is not in mnttcrs of Taste
as in questions of mere rcnson, thn.t but one conclusion is true, nnd all .
th e r est nre eno11C(•110. Tr11th , w hi\'h io thl' ohj,.,r>t- of renonn , i;i
beauty, which is the lcalling object of Taste, is manifold.

_.-·-·-LESSON
STANDARD

XXXVI.

. r'

c

OF TASTE.

when exercised Oil differellt things. 'Whell Oil the same ob: ject me~ disagree, when one condernllS as ugly what another
admires as beautiful, then '\ve have no longer diversity, but
direct opposition; and one must be right and the other wrong,
ullless we allow the absurd position that all 'rastes are equal·.
ly good.
~t .
Suppose a certain critic prefers Virgil to Homer; I, on the contraJ, :
give the preference to the latter. The other party is struck with the ,
elegance and tenderness which characterize the Roman bard; I, with
the simplicity, sublimity, and fire, of the Greek. As long ns neither of
us denies that both these poets have great beauties, our difference'
merely exemplifies that diversity which, as we have seen, is natural
and allowable. But, if the other party asserts that Homer has n,o
beauties whatever, that he is dull and spiritless, that his Iliad is in ng .
§ 245. In what cnso may Tastes differ without being directly opposllo? Illustrate
this point by n comparison of Virgil with Ilomer. In caso of nn opposillon of Tas!ee;

. }'espect superior to any old legend of knight-crrantry,-then I have a.
· right to clrnrgc my antagonist with having either no Taste ·at all, or one
in a high degree corrupted; and I appeal to whatever I regard as the
, standard of Taste, to show him his error.
, :· It remains to enquire what this standard is, to which, in such opposition of Tastes, we must have recourse. The term properly denotes
something established as a rule or model, of such undoubted authority
as to be the test of other things of the same kind. Thus, when we say
a slandarll \1·eigltL or measure, we mean one appointed by Jaw to regulate all other weights nnd measures.

§ 216. Wheneve r an imitation of any natural object is
'nimcd a~, as for instance when a description of a landscape or
a portraiture of human character is attempted, fidelity to na. ture is the proper criterion of the truly beautiful, and we may
lay cloyrn th e proposition th[lt JYaturc is our standard. In
~II;=- such cases rc:isou can rcaclily co mpare the copy with the origi·
nal; and approve or condemn, as it finds the peculiarities of
the o1jcct imitrrtell more or less truthfully represented.

§ 245. Tastes, we have seen, admit of variety; but only •

J.!

179

i

§ 24 7. In many cases, however, this principle is inapplica·
ble ; and for these we are obliged to seek some other stand'ard. 'Vere any person possessed of all the mental powers in
full perfection, of senses always exquisite and true, and par.ticularly of sound and unerring judgment, his opinions in mat·
:~ers of 'raste would beyond doubt constitute an unexception1 ~able standard for all others.
But as long as human natur~ is
li,able to imperfection and error; there can be no ' such living
;.iriterion; no one individual who will be acknowledged by his
fellow-men to possess a judgment superior to that of· all the
•. ·rest. Where, then, can we find the required standard?
~anifestly, in the concurrent Tastes of the niajority of man'.kind. . What most men agree in admiring must be considered
to 'wb11t does it become necessary to 11ppenl ? What does the term sta1~dard denoto'f
Jwhnt do we m ean by n stnndarcl weight or m easure?
· · · ·· .
§ 246. When nn Imitation of any natural object Is aimed at, wbat ls the criterion of
. ~e beautiful? What faculty is called on to approve or condemn? On what Is !ta
· ·
• .,
-Clecls!on based ?
,- § 241. ln whnt cases Is this principle lnnpplicable? Why cnn not the Taste ·or a
-person of sound judgment be tnken ns a stnnrlarcl? Whnt Is the only safe standard
,that can bo adopted? Show how ''e nppenl to this strrndnrd in cases of literal wte. '

--....
180
I'

STANDARD OF TASTE.

STANDARD OF TABT&

be~utiful; and his Taste alone can be esteemed true who coinll,
cides with the general sentiment of his species.
· ' 11'

~~. principles of true philosophic Taste are unchangeable, being the same
~?w that t~cy w~re five thousand years ago.
.
um
versahty
of
Taste
and
the
consistency
of
"t
d
·
·
The
,
.
I s
ec1s10ns, except ·
w.~en tem~orar1ly. p~rvertcd by external causes, prove that it is far from
being
r
·
,
. arbitrary,
. . is rndependent of individual
• 1tmc1es,
an d empI oys a
practical
er1tenon
for
determining
their
truth
,
f.
l
h
..
or a se oo d. I n every
compos1tw n, what captivates the imagination convi'nees. ti
. to I
I
'
ie reason, or
· uc ies tie h eart, pleases nil ages and all uations H
th
•
t ·
.
·
ence
e unan!mous estunony wl11ch successive generations have borne to the merit
of some few works of genius. Hence the atitl 10
· ··t
I· I
I
h
·
11 Y w uc l sue i works
ave acqm'.·cd ~s stan dards of composition; siuce from them we learn
w)iat beauties give the highest pleasure and elicit th g
l d.mi
ration of mankind.
'
e enera a
-

If any one should maintain that sugat· is bitter and tobacco sweet;;r
no reasoning could avail to prove it, b ecause it contrndicts the general ,[
voice of mankind. The taste of such a person would in evitably be re l{'
garded as diseased. In like manner, with regard to the ouj ects of inter-,~
nal Taste, the common opinion of mankind carries the same anthority».L
and constitutes the only t est by which the impressions of individuals ca~!? .
be tried.

§ 248. ·wh en we speak of the concurrent 'l'astcs of men as· . .
the universal standard, it must be understood that we mean..i;t
men placed in situations favorable to the proper development .
of this faculty. Such loose notions as may be entertained),_
during ages of ignorance and darkness, or among rude and un~ ·
civilized nations, carry with them no authority. In such~
states of society, Taste is either totally suppressed or appears
in its worst form. By the common sentiments of men, there:
fore., we mean the concurrent opinions of refined men in civil::
ized nations, by whom the arts are cultivated, works of genius
I
are freely discussed, and Taste is improved by science and,
·:Philosophy.
· r1
Even among such nations, accidental causes occasionally pervert th~ ·
Taste ; superstition, bigotry, or despotism, may bias its decisions; or
habits of gaiety and licentiousness of morals may bring fal se ornamen~ . ·
and dissolute writings into vogue. Admiration of a great genius 'may
protect h is faults from criticism, and even r ender them fashionable.
Sometimes envy obscures for a season productions of great merit; whilq
personal influence or party-spirit moy, on tho contrary, exalt to a high
though short-lived reputation what is totally undeservin g. Such incoqi
sistencies may lead us to doubt the correctness of our stan tlard; but it
will be found that these vagaries in the course of tim e invariably corre~~
themselves; that the genuin e Taste of mankind in gcncrn l ultimately
ti·illlllphs over the fantastic notions whirh may have attained temporary
currency with superficial judges. The latter soon pass away; whereas
§ 248. Whnt do we m ean by the concurrent T astes of m en, whicl1 we make'tlit
universal stnn<larcl? Even among cultivated nations, 1Ylint rnny pervert the Taster .
Show h ow its decisions aro someti mes influ enced. Whnt fee ling is likely to be produced by these Inconsistencies? .. Uliimiltely, however, what will we fine!?
·

181

..tn
ilfi. § 249. The tc~·m~ ~aste and Genius being frequently con~~~nded, though s1gmfyrng quite different things, it is of im·
P?,rtance, clearly t.o d~fine the distinction subsisting between
~~m. ~ aste consists m the power of judging; Genius, in that
_o/, creatmg.. Gcnius includes Taste; whereas the latter not
op1ly may, but g.cnera~ly .does, exist without the former. Many
'!~._capable of apprccratmg poetry, eloquence, and the producjio~s o~ art, who_ have themselves no abilities for composing or
eiecutrng. Delicate and correc t Taste forms a good
"t" .
-1\, t G ·
.
en IC ,
~r .emus Is. further neces~ary ~o form a poet, an orator, or
. '11 ·a~tist. Gcitws, therefore, IS a lughcr power than Taste. It
~plies a_creative or inventive faculty which not on}
·
b
·
'
y perce~.v;es eauties already existing, but calls new ones into be1·
d
l "b·
ng.
'h so ex 11 Its them as strongly to impress the minds of
t
o ers.
·

·,r, Tl

t

G

·

le erm
enius, as commonly used, extends furth er
~~n to th.e objects of Taste. '.1'hus we speak of a genius for
JDAjhematws, for w~r, for politics, and even for mechanical em~ym~nts. In tlus acceptatiou, it signifies a natural-talent
~-aptitude for excelling in any particular vocation.
'
;

Bow is it proved that tbo principles of T aste aro not nrbitra1y? How b avo tbe
t works ol' genius be en r eg1mled in all ages?
l .249. What terms al'c often confounded? Show ti 1 e l'ffi
b
u& ·Whl I ~
<1 erence etween T asto and
c ' onns tho critic, and which the poet? .Which is th o bl~J
Is the com mon nccep tatlo
f ti 10 t
.
o ier power?
· · h'
n
el'rn genius r As possessed by indivfd I
w Jch extends to the willer rnngo of objects, genius or Taste? What is said:~

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rLEASUREB OF THE illfAGINA.TION.

STANDARD OF TASTE.

182

'.

...;~- ~

183

Genius the creative faculty, as posscsscu by individu~l
'
•
m
minds does not extend to as wide a range of objects as J_ aste.
LESSON XXXVII.
' uncommon to meet persons posscsiocd of goo d 'I' ast~
It is not
in several of the elegant arts, in painting, sculpture, music;
PLEASURES OF '!'HE 11\fAGINATION.
and poetry; but to find one who is :rn excellent performer in,
.} '
1> '§ 251. 1'1m pleasures of Taste, since they arise from imall these is 1~uch more rare, or rather not to be expected a~
all. A universal genius is not likely to excel in any thing~
pressions made on the imagination, are generally known as the
only when the creative powers of the mind are .d~rected. exclu~
Pleasures of the Imagination.
sively to one object, is there a prospect of attnmrng cmwence.:ilES::"":~. § 252. 1' hc Imagination is that facuHy of the rniml Ly
With Taste the r everse is the case i exercising it on one clas.~
; which it conceives ideas of things communicated to it by•thc
Jf objects is likely to improve it as regards all.
;"·
organs of sense, and, selecting parts of different conceptions,
§ 250. Genius, as remarked above, implies the existence
c.f>mbines them into new wholes of its own creation.
":imagination, like every other faculty of mind, is of course c(;mfined
of Taste· and the more the latter is cultivated and improved!
the nobl~r will be the achievements of the former. Geniu~1
,ti>· man. Opening to him, as it docs, an enlarged sphere of manifold
however m~y exist in a higher degree than 'l'aste j that is, :a
· &l\dmultiform pleasures, it afl.'or<ls a striking proof of Divine benevolence.
'
b b ld
l
h'l l · T te is iG
The necessary pmposes of life might have been answered, though our
¥
Person's Genius _ma,y e . o anc strong, w l e_
.. 11,s,
I l .as. f ,.z3
eenses bad served 011ly to distinguish external objects, without conveying
markable for neither dehca,cy nor correctness.
11s is o teu
. they·are now the source.
.t@. us any of those delightful emotions of wlnch
the case in the infancy of a literature or an art: for Geniu.
~e. Creator, however, has seen fit to vouchsafe to man these pure and
which is the gift of nature, attains its growth at once i whil
innocent enjoyments fo1· the purpose of elevating his aspirations, ennoTaste, being in a great degree the result of assiduous stu~
· ~ling his emotions, banishing unworthy thoughts from his breast, freeing
and cultivation, requires long and careful training to atta~
him from the control of passion and sense, and leading him to look
perfection. i:lhaluipeare is a ease iu poiut. ru11 of yigor a~~
' beyond the enrth , anrl
"Before the transient and mlnuto
To prize tbe vast, the stable, the sublime."
fire and remarkable for the originality of his thoughts, he still
.
lacks much of that delicacy, both of conception and expressio.~1
; The mind that has once feasted on the pleasures which imagination
ift'ords, will never be satisfied to leave them for meaner enjoyments; any
which has been .attained by later writers of far inferior Genius;
more than one who from some height views a majestic river rolling its
Indeed those who dazzle the minds of their readers with grea\
··waves through spacious plains and past splendid cities, will withdraw
and lwilliant thoughts are too apt to disregard the less~
·, gaze from the inviting prospect, to contemplate the stagnant pool at
graces of composition.
''
his feet.
)

)

r

n universal genius? What is tho result of .exer cising Tnslo on nny parlicnlnr cl~ ~
objects?
., ~
§ 250. What is implied in genius? May it exist without n high drgree of Taste I
When is this often the case? What author is n case in point?

'~ § 253. The process by which the emotions alluded to affect
\he imagination next requires attention. Whenever an object
From what do the plcnsurcs of Taste arise?

S252.

What aro they generally

What is m ennt by the imagination? To whom is it confined? Show how Its
How do the pleasures of the Imagination
pare with other enjoy menls?
S253. Describe the proc~ ss by wlii ch t.lw se nsations in quest.ion affect the imagination.
rows! is a proof of 11ivine beneficence.

184

-

PLEASURES OF THE HIAGINATION.
PLE ASURES OF '.l'HE BIAGINATION.

"{·

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calculated to produce them is presented 'to the mind, unless1
its attention is previously engrossed, a train of thought is im
mediately awakened, analogous in character to the object ex·,
citing it. It must be observed, how eve r, that the simple perit
ception of the object is insufficient of itself to excite the!
emotion. No pleasurable impression will be producc<l., unles~~
the mind operates in conuection with the sensation ; unle~~
the imagination busies itself with the pursuit of such trains o~
thought as arc awakened.
·we find that the same thing is true of the creations of art. A fine'
landfcape, a beautiful poem, a thrilling strain of harmony, exc ite feebl
emotions in our mind~, as long as our attention is confined to the qua!L
ties they present to our sen ses. \Ve fully appreciate them only whe!l
our imaginations are kindled by their power, when we lose ourselv ·amid the image;; summoned before us, and wake at last from the play of>
fancy as from the charm of a romantic dream.
'.

§ 254. 'l'hat pleasurable emotions are not produced b!!

'·

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mere irnpressions on the external senses, but remain unfel ·
unless these impressions are transferred to the imagination,;i!
susceptible of conclusive proof. If, for instance, the mind 1ia
in such a state as to prevent the play of imagination, the sen
sation of pleasure is entirely lost, although of course the effec'
on the outward sense is the same. A man in pain or affii
tion will contemplate without the slightest adrniration scener
and objects, which , were his imagination at liberty: would
afford him the liveliest pleasure. The sublimity and beau~!
of external nature are almost constantly before us, and not
day passes without presenting us objects calculated to charm
and elevate the mind; yet it is in general with a heedless e'
that we regard them, and only at particular moments that'
are sensible of their power. There are few that have not co
templated with delight the beauties of a glowing sunset ;'"y8'
every one knows that, at times, all the gorgeous magnifice~

·-

What, beside th e sensati on, is essential to th e production of n pleasurable emotion;
the mind ? Whnt is said of the emotions produ ced by th e creati ons of art?
§ 254. Prove that pl eas urable emotions are not produced by m ere impressions on .
cxternnl senses. To wha t is tho difference in the impressions prn1l11 cec1 by the

t :'ltith which Nature paints tl 1.
· 1e ieavens at th
.Powerless on the eye.

185

l
f d
e c ose o ay falls

, l Tliis diffcl'encc of effect i"
I I
themselves, nor to the ext . s c ear y not ,att 11·'b u t a bl c to the objects
.
· e1 na1 senses on w Juel ti .
. .
, rjly produced: it nrises from
1·rc
. l le rmprcsswn is prima,
a
c
Iucrence
lil the t t
f
.
",ti"~ns; from our <lisi)osition at
t'
s a e o our imogina-

.,
,
one 1me to follow t ti
.
awakened, and our iucnpacity t 0 <l th"
ou ro tram of thought
'.I'
o rs at anotl . ·
tJie pre-occupation of onr mind b
'
' . iei' 111 consequence of
.
s Y some cngrossmg id
. ~lTaste arc cnJoyctl in their· }>c ,r t'
I
ea. 11le pleasures
.
.
.
fr.ee, and the attention is so 11'ttl I ICC IOU. on y wl ion tl le 1mag1natrou
is
•·
·
·
e occupied as to I
~press10ns created by the ob' t b ti
eave us open to all the
'l,~ure
.
~ ec s e ore us
It i th ti
.
hours that we turn to
.
·
s, ere ore, always in
•
musrn aud })Oet.1 ti ,
ons of care, of gi-icf of b .
h
Y 01 amusement. The
'
.
'
usmcss, ave other o
f
-5'~. the time at least, our sensibility to the b c~upa wns; and destroy,
ii;op~rtion as the state of mind produced b eautrft~l or the sublime, in
er_c1se of the imagination.
Y them Is unfavorable to the

, ~-, Another proof that ima()'ination is tl
f
·U]es of Taste may be der· bd f
ie s.ource o the pleas·
•"
ive
rom what is obs
d .
h
~recess of criticising
'\Vb
.
.
.
erve rn t e
·
en, rn cons1derrng a
. .
,.;
·~ g, we attend minutely to the Inn
poem or pamtone, or the coloring and d .
f . ghuage and .s tructure of the
.,
esign o t e other
. .e delight which they otherwis
d
' 1We cease to feel
• ,that by so doing we rest . e pro. uce.. 1 he reason of this
ram our 1magm t ·
d .
of,yielding to its suggestions resist them b a fi10~, an ' Instead
tion
·· .
'
Y0 xrng our atten .
. on nunute
and unconnected
. t
:ir'th ·
·
par s.
n the cont
;.. e unagmation is ardent and is left to its free
. rary,
?d receives pleasure from the
".
exercise, the
fak
per1ormance as a whol
d
.es no note of the minor deta1"ls of "t' .
e, an
en 1c1sm.
. .
Jlt Is this chiefly that makes it diffi It ti
..
. .
cu or young per o
"ti l"
mat1ons to foz·m correctJ'ud
t. f
s ns w1 i 1vely
" · ·
gmen s o the prod t'
.
art, and which so often i"ndu
ti
uc wns of literature
•
ces iem to ap
f
.
.ances. It is uot that the
. .
prove o medwcre per•,
.•
'
Y ai e lllcapable of le . · ·
pos1t1on consists . foz· the .· .
.
~uung Ill what m erit
'
p1rnc1p1es which direct us in the forma-

., tat different times nltriuutabl , ? IV!
u
•en are th e pie
f
.
tion? When clo we turn to mu
s·
.
asnrcs 0 taste OnJoyed iu th eir
:What do facts obscrrnble !11 ti ic oz poetry for nrnnsc rn cnt?
•
ie process of c "t' · ·
res of Taste? Sta te tl1e argument~ Urns l . lld1C1sm_g pro~e with regard to tho
with ardent imag inations lik ely t "
r enve . 1' hat k1111! of critics are per~
·
o uccome? 'Yhnt
l
.
•
, g to iorm con eel judgments of literar
~
r onc crs it dlthcult for tho
y per ormanccs? Whnt effect has tho lnbor

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186

.1c.. .....

A

PLEASURES OF . THE IMAGINATION.
PLEA SURES OF THE IMAGINATION.

..J.. ·•

tion of critical opinions arc neith er num erous nor nbstruse. It is no~q
p:~~.t~cular objcc.ts which exist in every m1'nd.
that sensibility increases with ngc; fo r this nil exp erien ce co ntradicts.· •
These associaI
t~~s are compnsc<l in three classes : Dut it is because at U1is period of life the imag ina tion is fresh, and is .
excited by the slightest causes ; because the young dec id e 0 11 the merit.a eil· P ersonal. No rn an is indifferent to
.
•
lr~ born, the school where h e .
d
a view of the house where he
of a composition according to the impression it makes on this faculty·
i.:..
11 as c ucated or the see
'd . h '
~ 1 mfoncy was spent
So
.
'
ncs anu w 1ch
b ecause their estimate of its vnlue is formed, not by compa ring it witH
.
.
mnny ima"'cs of })a t It t'
p~~~s . do they recall that c
"'1
s a ec ions and past hapoth er works or with any alJstrnct or id eal standard, lrnt from the facilitf
t
h
.
'
' ommon-p ace as they ma
~ , m they arc n source of i d
··b bl
. y seem o ot crs,
with which it leads them into those enchanting regi ons of fancy whe~
~ _,__ h
n escu a e rapture The
1 d'
· ....,, t at were lcnrn cd in 1·11,.
re are me o 1es,
•
youth loves to wander. It is their own imagination that in reality pof
~
.
•an cy, or were sung
·h
.
. p ei aps by beloved
Yo1ces now silent which nwiil·c t.
f. .
sesses the charms which they nttrilm te to the w ork that cxdtes it; an'
~
'
' s t ong cc11ng w1th'
h
&!].heard, and arc throtwh life
r
d
m us w encvcr th ey
the simplest talc is llS capable of exciting thi s faculty in the young, ana.
·
.
o ·
pre1erre to all others.
is th er efore advanced to as high a rank in their estimation, as the most
. . ll. National. Next to personal
. t'
assoc1a 10ns tlwse co
t d .h
meritorious performances would b e at a later period.
i
our country are most calculat d t h . h
'
nnec e wit
11r1.
e o e1g ten our
t'
All this flow of imngination, h owever, in which youth and mend.
•n..uat American can vi•it the I l't'
emo 10ns of pleasure.
"'-- l'
,
oca l res consecrated by th bl d f .
sensibility are apt to indulge, and wlnch so often yields them pleasur
....ugg rng anc estors, can behold B k , H'll
.
e oo o lus
,,..
-.r
uu CI I ' Bennrngton Vall F• .
while it involves them in incorrect judgments, the labor of criticism d
'
ey oige,
. wwpens, or .i. orktown nnd not,. l h ' h
'
ice is eart toucl d 'th
.
strays. Thus employed , th e mind, instead of being free lo follow t1it
~d stronger cnthu sinsm than would be kmdled b 1c w1 a far higher
t rnins of imagery succcssi vcly awakened, is eith er fettered to the con
tli_e,respectivc scenes ? To oth . th
~ the mere beauty of
et s, ey may be objects 0 f · d'lr
sideration of minute and isolated parts, or pauses to weigh the vario
.:.ns, t h ey are hallowed by th .
.
·
m 111erence ;
eu· connection with our count ' 1 .
'
ideas received. Thus distracted , it loses the emotion, whether of beau
lik
e manner, th e fine lines whicli v 11
· . • }.
ry s ustory.
·
v 'g11 lll us Georgie h
d d· •
or sublimity; and, si nce the irnpTession on the outward se nse is cvideii
,th e praises of his native land b
t'f •
s, as e 1cated
·
1 as they nre to
:
a
.,;:;bt
dl
'
eau
i
u
ly the same as b efore, it must be the r estraint of imngination alone th
!""-" e y read with far greater pleasure b
I
.
us, were unmakes the difference, and consequently this facult.y is th e sole sourC.
;The influence of such association~ in in~r~~:i~ncrnut Roman.
whence the pleasures of Taste flow. Accordiugly, the mathcmaticiad
~ ~y of musical compositions must I
g the benuty or subwho investigates the demonstrations of the Newtonian philosophy, thi
iss soldiers in foreign lnnds h
b iave een generally observed.
p ainter who studies th e designs of Raphael, the poet who r easons on th
Iy: on hearing th eir cclcbrat~~ve t:en lso .ovcrw
. h elmed with mclanb
f.
.
•
nn wna nz r that it 1
measure of Milton,-all in such occupations lose the delight which the.Se
ary to for Lid j ts i1crformance i'11 the
'. '.
ms ccn ound
•
·
·
arnucs
rn
I
·
h
1
several productions give; ·and, when they wi sh to recover the emoti
effect is not nttributable to the
. . .
w u c t icy serve.
. tlons with which it is acco
of pleasure, must withdraw their nttcntion from minute considcratio
.codmpos1t10n ~tself, but to the recolmpame ; to the images "t
k
and leave their fancy to revel amid the great nnd pleasing conceptio
e.and domestic pleasures from whi h tl
1
I
awn ens of
'
c
iey
iave
been
t
.
d
with which it is inspired.
. 1~
o1 n, an to
. chth ey may never return S 0 th t
.
•
e une called Belli 1 ·M h .
.
ve owed its popularity in Engl d t tl
s e arc is said
§ 255. 'rhe pleasures received from objects of Taste"'·d
"·
an o ie suppo · t'
h
·
lllr played when the British army
1 d .
s1 wn t at it was
pending, as we have seen, on the action of the imaginati~n~·
.1 ·
'
mare ic mto Bellisl
d t ·
equent
association
with
images
of
. . e, an
o its
1
follows that whatever facilitates the lively exercii:;e of ~~·
1 f ,
•
conquest nnd military glor
., ,, . Historical. Powerful though .
l
d
y.
faculty heightens th'e pleasurable emotions experienced. T '
.
'
m a ess cgree than the asso

b

is obviously the effect of those interesting associations
of cri ti cism on th o flow of imnginnti on ? Wh nt is rnirl of t ho mnthematiclan, r
painter, a:1<l th e poet, wh en studying the gr eat m asters nf their r r,pectlve nt ts ? ''
§ 255. On wh at do th o pl easures received from objects of 'l'nstc depend? W
th erefore, heightens tl1 c plca, nra\Jl e emotions e:-.po rienccrl? Of what is this obvlo
the effect? In h ow many classes nro nssoci nllon s co111pri, ed? What Is tho first

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188

--·-·-·-I.JESSON xxxVIIl.
r

LEASURES 01'' THE l.MAGlNATION.

~-·

FUL -THE
TUE

NOVEL.-Tlffi

WONDER

.

·~

r1cTURESQUE.
:1

e !';cnses that have b een given to m
Of the fiv ~
l
. - capable bv themselves
11
d touc 1 -are m
<
.J
three,-taste, sine 'an .
' l
.
Cooperating witM
.
h .
inatlon top en.sure.
.h
awakernng t e imag
"b t t the effect 1)roduced on't ..
ontn u e o ·
..
other two, they may c
. t"
conuected with their sens_.
by the associa ions
f h M
facu l ty; or,
.
ll roduce pleasing trains o t ong
tions, they may occasiona
Pd tl
c::w not be regarded ;:
- d
d ntly exercise ' iey <
•
f
but, rn ep en e
f 'I' te
Hence the intensity o
f l
l asurcs o
as ·
. .
0
sources o tie p e_
bl" l and deaf man is visited.
affiiction with which the. me 'ts ensnrccl by sight and h(
'f ld C11JOJ D1Cn •
~
•r
off from the marn o
fi l . b t little solace in the P?SS _
and by these a.lone, he nc s u
.i
.
ing, <
•
tl
e
infcnor
senses.
sion of t h e 11 e
. .
.
to do with the body; it fl~~
. rt l 1glllficn,t10n) 113S
h .
Tast e (in its l era s
. t . the stomn.ch. No sense as,.
.
.
,
tl
e
grossest
of
all
mas
c1s,
ancl s e rve~ l
•
-:-:

§ 256.

!

? How do thl'Y rnnk ns rcgnnls effect? :"
Wh at is th e third class of nssocia '.ons
.?
.
t . rove th cir power .
. t" ? Whoa,
'llustrntions are g1»e.Il op
bl of nlfr cl'n" the imn;:1nn ion.
~~
'
'" "Which of th e fi ve sen.·
~es n.re in c:lpn c
'
·- "'
.
•
.
f
,
}low
nre
th
ey
rnme t'1mes I
9
11
§ 2u6.
ft' t rodnced on tlns ncu ·) .
. <l are
th ey contribute to th e e ec p
.
f ti no-ht? lnrkpen<lcntly exerclSC '
1
·
\ensin" trams o 10 " ·
ll blind and•
mental in produ cing P
"
·wh t foll ows with respect to ie
a
.""
sources of the pl easure of Taste?
. l'

i

.\

n

r

189

,·

.
1 nd nrc tho,c fn1111d cd on ~cneral ~
ciations connected with our o_wn a '..
The yal\ cv of y ancluse ·1'
d' tingU1 ohed po ~om.
.
t
,J •
tory or the lives of is
•
i· ti ·ould it haYC been es eem""'
. b
t .. , ct how it e "
·
celebrated for its ea.u ) , J
• l 1
In like manner, t 1iere at
. · d c of P etra1 c 1 ·
h·
had it not been the i es1 enc
b
t"ful thau Iln11nymc<lc; yet t OJ!
.
doubt more can I
'
I
t ch .
many landscapes, no
"
"t
ed tl1c gra11ti11g of t ic grea
ti . l ce w1 ncos
·11 fi
who remember that us p n.
. l. - . d liuerties of millions, w1 I!"
. 1 1 as guaranteed the ng its nu
,·i ~
ter w111c 1 1 '
strongly
•
·
'
.
ct
their
imagmat1ons
s0
.
, ··'ifi
ffe
few scenes a
r.,1

' "
SOURCES OJ! um

mn ·pg

SOURCES OF THE PLEASURES OF THE IMAGINATION,

OF THE HIAGINATION.
SOURCES OF 'l'HE PLEASURES

1•1&2

mnn ?
f 'l' t )()enl?
To what tloes the sense o ns e n1 ' .

'°1iriection with the mind, or is so utterly incapable of yielding it
pkasure.
' ~'Smell may sometimes seem to yielcl perceptions of the beautiful; but
. 'because the odor i.> exhaled from au object that we already know
. w ·b~be:iutiful, and that is so independently of its frngrnnce. Thus the
. ~'charms us with its 1<ymm etrical proportions an cl the richness and
·nety of its shades; its odor is agreeable, not beautiful, and suggests
&he idea of beauty only because we know it to proceed from a beautiful
• ct.
;Touch may in n measure jucJgc of smoothness, regularity, and symetry; but not with sufficient promptness and accuracy to make it a
tource of pleasure to the inrnginntion, unless sight comes to its aid.
Agreeable trains of thought may, indeed, occasionally be awakened
·the taste, sm ell , and perhaps touch, of particular objects with which
~ing recollections of the past are coirn ectcd ; yet we cannot on that
unt say ihat the sc11sations produced through these media are a
IDQ;C~ _of mental pleasure.

·. § 257. The only senses capable of kindling tlie imaginaon and exciting its pl easures arc SIGHT and HEARING. The
pressions of the former arc the more striking, and the
~oyment they yield is both more lasting and more inten se.
-'tf•blind, therefore, apart from the greater helple ssness to
;;ch they arc reduced, lose incomparably more of the plcas<:pf .the imagination, whether awakened by nature or art,
- the deaf.
ese senses $eem to be p:uticulnrly in the service of the soul. The
)ions they produce are pure, not gross ; intellectual, not corporeal.
c_ontribute to the refining rather than the sustaining of life. They
J-lre us 'pleasures which are not selfish and sensual, but noble and
-r ·~·

ating.

§ 258.

To these two senses, then, through the operation
~ich natural objects excite a flow of imagination and con1g? Of what may smell sometimes seem to yield perceptions?

Explnin how

. I( and illustrate it in tho case of the rose. Of what qualities muy touch, In

n

judge? Why is it not, then, a source of pleasure to the imagination? To
' are the agreeable trains of thought sometimes awakened by these senses
• ble?
~. What se~ ses al one arc capable of kindling th e hnngination? Which pro·tb'e more striking impressions? How, then, docs the affiietlon of the blind comth that of the deaf? 'What Is snlcl of t.ho sensations and pleasures produced by

-----190

SOURCES OF THE

THE NOVEL.

!'LEA.S URES OF 'l'IIE IMAGINATION.

t be addressed in onlcr to make:~
t pleasure ar t mns
'
· '
1
sequen
'
. d 'rl eye b einf" as we iave see
.
. on the n11n .
ie
o'
.
_,e•ii
impression
. "d nd "btind"nt sensations, to II
·
f th
st v1v1 a
"
"
· t'
the rtnedf tut~: ofine ea~~ -painting, sculpture, architectur~,"~n
1
'
.
mos o
1y a dd r.csse d . Music"'!(n
·d . ' rr -are
exclusive
landscapde·g.~ret~~~~o(~vhich we have seen is a mixed art), "
ctry, an 1
dress themselves to the car.
.
r . l ti
objects of swht
§ 259. '\Ve may l lVll c iosf~ 1
. to Ll1e imaginatio
. l
t't t the source o p casmc
.
.
f naturo and those 0
wlnc 1 cons 1 u e
into two great class~s, the prodbu.ct~~ni::ds us to ~rcat only ,
!,
t St . ctly speakmg our su JC
ar ·
ri
'
f the latter which pert~
1
or rather of that c ass o
b . 1 t'
the l atter
··
Yet ' as t e real.
l ' . . l' to the art of compos1tt0n.
excb ~s~:c y between the two is intimate and they often affo
su sis mg
h 11 briefly extend Q
striking illustrations of each ot1ier, we s a
·".
notice to both. ,
. .
· t '
§ 260. 'rhe different characteristics winch an obJeC 1P
t
xcite the imagination arc known as the novel,,:
possess o e
. t s ue the sublime, and the beaut

~~n~~:!:\h:h~as~ ~w:r:r;
1

by far the most fruitful

sourc~s

pleasure.

'fi · l b' rf belong alike to natural and art1 crn 0 ~
These five qula l iebs
tioned more limitell in extent, becau~~
Two others must iere e men
'
.' 1
l to the creations of art.
. '
. bl
phca e on y
. . .
A ·t i·n many cases aims at noth111g '- .
f im1tat10n
I
'
, d rt
I. F i e 1 y o .
,f
t. ,
In these cases, the closer resem~.
·eurodnct1on
o
na
me.
. er d
tl ian a I r
: inal the greater l)leasure does it auor "'..
the copy bears to the o~1gtl 'ob" ect copied lJe destitute of beautfi!
is tl.is less true, thoug. 1 ie ~
d . the filthy lazaroni anll
·
I
icture we can en me
,.,
even repulsive. n a Ph
. He we would turn away with un90
gusting dwarf, from w om m J
§ 258. To wbnt must art be auclressed?

' f

Which, to th o cnr?
.
.
. . re the objects of sight nm! hearing ,
n
•
§ 2W. Into what t"o' gteatb clnsse.s
. r1 g between th em?
. •
\Yhat is snicl of the relation su sis ? . whlch an object must possess, to ex
§ 260. Enumer~te the cbaractenstt:ost fruitful sources of pleasure? To~
imagination. Wh1?l~ of these..,are ~~~mt two others are moro limitNl in exte~
jects <lo th ose qualities belon,,?
r icasnre ? lliustrnlo the fact th!\~.
wlrnt cases ls fidolit.y of imitation a source o p . ,
. •. .

191

)Ible aversion. The mind is ploascd with the fidelity of the representaJion, because in the triumphs of art the whole species may be said to

'Y').Lll

a common concern and pride.
Wit, humor, and ridicule, in literary compositions, arc the source
:fl'various pleasures. These are of such importance as to require future
_sideration at some length.
JI

§ 2Gl.

N ovEL is an important source of the pleasures
of.Taste, proclucing, as it cloes, a lively and instantaneous effect
1
~he imagination. An object which has no merit to recomJi{nd it, excq'lt its being uncommon or new, by means of this
~lity gives a quick and pleasing impulse to the mind. A
I "'
gree of novelty, indeed, though not essential to the producori of impressions by the beautiful or the sublime, considerheightens them ; for objects long familiar, however
'i~active, arc apt to be passed over with indifference.
.,.f he emotion producccl by novelty is of a livelier and more
ungent nature than that excited by beauty; but is propornally shorter in its continuance. If there is no other charm
.rivet our attention, the shining gloss thus communicated
1
1i wears off.
r,

T1rn

j'

is new is universal, and is known

ciiriosity. No emotion of the mind is stronger or more general. Con~.-tion is never more interesting than when it turns on strange oLf.;i'and extraordinary events. :Men tear themselves from their fomi'in sear')h of things rare and new, and novelty converts into pleasures
'fatigues and even the perils of travelling. By children, also, this
g is constant! y manifested. We see them perpetually running from
e. to place, to hunt out something now; they catch, with eagerness
•often with very little choice, at whatever comes before them.
• by reason of its nature, novelty cannot for any length of time en1
·our attention; and hence curiosity is the most versatile of all our

~resontat!on plc~>cs,

'

th ough the olijcct copied may bo absolutely rrpulsivo.
reason. \Yhat source of pl oasuro to the imagination belongs exclusively
' ry compositions?
161. What is the efl'cct cf the novel on th o imagination? What, on the impresroduced by tho beautiful ancl tho sublime? How does tho emotion produced by
., compare with that excited by beauty? IV hat is tho desire to see and bear new
Mlled? How do men show that th~y aro und er its control ? How is it manlby children? What is the lenuing charaoterlslic of curiosity?
D the

..

.. ..
'!'HE NOVEL.

192

affections. It is constantly changing its object, nnd
appearance of anxiety and restlessness.

§ 262. Novelty .is possessed by objects in <liffercnt degree~
to whid1 its e[ecLs arc proportiouc<l.
I. 'l'he lowest degree is found iu objects surveyed a

scco'n~

time after a lun g inl erval.

·
Experience teaches us that, without any <lGe:ty of remembrance, a
sence always gives an air of novelty tu a uucc familiar ohj cet. Thus,
person w ith whom we h ave been intimate, r eturning from abroad
a long interval, appears almost like n new a cquaintance. Distance ·
place contributes to tl.Jis effect nu less than lapse of time; a friend, fi
example, after a short absence in n remote country, has the same air~
novelty as if he had returned nfter a longer interval from a place uea
hom e. The mincl un consciously institutes a connection between 1'
and the distant region he has visited, and invests him with the si~
larity of the objects h e has seen.
.

!'
l
I
I

THE WONDERFUL.-THE

,,

IL The next degree of novelty belongs to objects resp~
. ing which we have had some previous information.
Description, though it contributes to familiarity, cannot altoge
remove the appearance of novelty when the object itself is presen
The first sight of a lion, for in stance, is novel, and therefore a source:,
pleasure, although the beholder may have previously outained from
tures, statues, and natural history, a thorough acquaintnucc with all
i;>eculiarities of appearance.

III. A new object that bears some distant rescmbla
to one already known is an instance of the third degreJ ·

· -- -----

-

..... u--~

PICTURESQUE.

193

iz:s obj~cts entirely unknown and bearing no analogy to any
which we are acquainted.

w~th

· § 263. Tim W ONDF.RFUL is analogous in clrn.racter to the
9,vel, and i11 by some confounded with it.

It is c<]_ually a

eour~e of !)lcasure, its charm consisting principally in the pro~1ct10u oi uu 0xpcct0J traius uf

t,].10ught.

The dilfrrcn<'C hetw~ c n the novel and the wonderful is readily illus·. ~ted'. A traveller who has never seen an elephant, goes to a jungle
Indm for the I''.lrpMc of meeting with one; if h e su cc eeds, the sight
•.noYcl arnl pl<'~srn~, h11t not won derful, for it was fully ex1Jcctc<l. A
Hind~o, wn.ndcrrn g 1~ Am.m·ica, suddenly secs an elephant feeding at
~e m a field: the sight 1s not novel, for he is accustomed to the ani1; it is wonderful, however, because totally unexpected -and i
;J
•
•
'
s
r-easmg rn proportion .
. · The Chinese appreciate the fact that the wonderful pleasurably exeites the imagination in a high degree, and take advantage of it in the
~bellishment of their garden~, which, we may add, are among the finest
lii the wo~l~. A torrent, for example, is conveyed under the ground,
t the VIS1tor may be at a loss to divine whence the unusual sound
. ceeds; and, to multiply still stranger noises, subterranean cavities are
evised in eve:y v~riety. Sometimes one is unexpectedly led into a
~k cave, which still more unexpec tedly terminates in a landscape en. ed with all the beauties that nature can nfford. In another quarter, enc~ianting paths lend to a rough field, where bushes, briers, and
nes, mtcrru~t tho p_assage; nnd, while means of egress nre being
ht, a magnificent vista opens on the view.
r

"'. § 264. TnE

IV. The highest. degree of novelty is that which charac

is by some regarded simply as a
The
J.Il .. seems, however, to be applied to objects which have a
.ed appearance, in contradistinction to such ~s are sublime
'P,e,autiful, particularly when introduced among the latter by
y of contrast. Affecting the mind at first witll an emotion
'surprise, such. objects soon give birth to an additional train

§ 2G2. To what are the effects of novelty proportioned? In whnt obj ects ls no
found in the lowest degree? What is always the effect of absence? What '
Japso of time contributes to this effe.ct? lllnstrate this. What co nnection Is
sciously instituted by the min d? What objects nrc chnrnctcri zcd by novelty (
second degree? Wlrnt is the effect of description? Illustrate this. What Is the
J1lgh est degree of no velty? Give nu illustration. 'l'o whnt objects does/the 1
. degree of novelty belong?
-

268. To whnt is the 1conderful an alogous? · In what does Its charm consist?
,te the difference betw ee n the novel nnd the wonderful. What use do the Chi, make of th e fact that. the wonderful pl easurably excites the imagination 1 Show
they apply this principle In their gardens.
f 9~ To whnt do some regard the JJict1i.resque as belonging? To what objects does
, seem rather to be npplled? ·with what emotion clo picturesque objects first
the mind? To " ·hat do they soon give birth? Mention some plctur~sque op·

novelty.

.

"\Ye are faroilinr, for example, with the features of the Oaucasia~:
of men, having seen them from infancy; the first sight of a Chin
however, is novel ancl pleasing, because, although he bears a resemb
to those we already kuow, the points of difference nre sufficient tO
cite our curiosity.

PICTUilESQUE

r~11:~ion of the beautiful, and treated under that head.

9

..

.. ..

194

THE SUilLIJ\IE.
THE

i '

s~e

' 195
principal source of the sublime is might, or power
exertion.
H encfle the ·grandeur hof earth.
k stateclof active
I
f
lijua es an vo canoes ; o g>·eat con agra twns ; of t e stormy
cean an d mighty torrent; of lightning, tempesta, and all
.n iolent commotions of the elements.
t1

fluT)~

·~. a

.
ne itself would not have suggested. "
of images which
the
· the nndst of a d eep wood ' an old bridge
0
ruined tower m .
k
oss·covered cottage on 1•
across a
between0 ;
s, ;,::resque. we have othl!'
precipice,
mstances.
. ken surface and an
1 . are stream
wit1i a be ro
h

chas~

:i,

irregul~i:

:;h 1.A stream
·
1 that · con
J fin
l es·

examp
t . tlie smooth young beec o,t
. es ma
d
ng trees
1 b' not . m the gnarled oak and knott
mot10n j an , amo
tJw fresh and tend.,. as " u m
. ·:
elm.
.
],i 0c fs sl1<i11hl J, 0 of

P"'"'.'''I"' " \ · · ·

.

grca.ts1.ze..L·4~:-:c: care sLru ek ll'i(/r the hoili11g fu1·11ncc of Etria, pouring out whole rivers
-0.;Pf EquiJ "'""'·" '[[,., ,.,,gngenwnt of two 10·ont m·mic., Lciog 1.1., h;gh.
•. ".' cwt;,,,, of hu moo n' ;g J' t, m.i; 1.otc, on c of the noLl"t aod m°'t

11 ·o fonn' chn•·uc ,cw.ec o
th
""' "' goncrnlt y >·cg.u·JcJ ., mo co pictm"q ''"
th '" '
0
nnirnoIB,
"""
it ;, toisthewild
nnd congldm·oat" 'b
'.
e0f:.\ .
th t tl1 is e1)ithet
horse;
an ' among
'
· dappi·te d . tlIn
our own species,
out
cart-horse,
a
e wnnderin"
t.r1 <1S o g

Dmgllificcnt 'peetucl" that ccn Le P""nted to the eye, oc exhibited to
·' im>gination in d.,cci ption. Lion,.nd othcc nnimaJ, of utccngth aco
of '°mcof tho gmnd"'t
P"'"'" In what en bHrnetocm, U. tb o
u

"

. , thnt

L. ti ·

•ppe"'·=c~~" '~.,.,.,

1

wom·~U

"'''°"' '

,.

hovcfa,and uimiladn=imate ohjcoW.

- -··-----

Ir

~I

"Rast thou given the horse

strength~

hast thou clothed J1is neck

th of
thnnded
Cuootthou
nfroid.,
gm,,Jcoppcc
1 1'ho
. !Ory
hio noot.-il,
iutcc•·i hie.mokc
l Io h;m
!'·"""'
in I.ho a•nlloy,
ond ccjniooth
, W., '"'"gth; he gocti, on to meet the a>-med men.
He mooketh at
{"',and i• not nffcightc<l ; nei th" tm•neth he bnok from the uwocd.
fwalloweth the ground with fierceness and rage; neither beli eveth h e
among the trumpets, Ha,

, The description of the leviathan is worked up in the same book with
&e.effect.

SUBLIME.

S un LIMITY,

.
. . of su ch object~? Is the ass or the .
j ects. What is the leading charac~~~s11:f horses is this epithet applicable? the
more
picturesque
?
.To
what
t
members of our own species presen ll p1'cturesque appearance? To what are the~
ogous Jn cli aracter? .
. alcnt for Sltbliinity r T o what are
§ 2G5. What word is nsed _ns an eqmv b ublimlty.
. d?• D escribe th e cmot10n produced Y s
!IPP]IC

~r

cl Mc1·i l.1cd i·n Jo'· I

.

that it is the sound of the trumpet. He saith
~I
and h e smellcth the battle afar oft:''

f ~ r which . GRANDEUR
is .
d obMj
.i·
. 1en t , is applied to g1 eat an n
d as an equ1va
some use
. t er nal
h' h
duce a sort of m
' elevation and expans1.
jects w IC pro
' 1 .
. of a serious character, ~
The emotion, th_oug: te~m~,d:~ree may be designated ~v
when awakened m t e igf els. b . rr 'thus readily distingu'
1 mn and aw u , cmo
I as severe, so e . ' . f. .
. cluccd by the bcautifu .
able from the livelier ce1mgs pro

§ 265. Trrn term

.a·r
·
c.

·The quiver ruttleth against him, the glittering spear and the shield. He

LESSON XXXIX ..
THE

~cot.
-hor.~. e

~e

merely picturesque me
. h
t .· tics bear a close ana o
"'
1 ·
.
. . to be foun amo ng ·
0
oie,.nd beggoce ; wh o, in nil th""
t
t hnceo .,, well ao to old
to Urn wild focoatcc nod
"'.
'

I

i tsel f toils
banks
is a beautiful
obj ect; but,
·
f
·
en it rus tcs w1t1 t 1c impelun;o:1ty o a torrent, it Lecornes sublime.
': The rugi,i of n 'moll ti"·" "'·"' Long;"""· " p•·od,,ce.. "" """';on; '"' t

it isIt.enough
t.hcy .atJ c rnegh
' .,,J I,,,.,,
: . ggy,
l lwifsUtl
vanaLwns.
rn not if
."'"'""'
thetlcn
Y ; nJoo•dc.
""' Amo
j
"

.

' !

SUilLIME.

th~

· "Canst t hou draw out Jcl'ia tha11 with an hook l or his tongue with a
;ord whieh thou lcttest down? Canst thou put an hook into his nose 1
bore his j aw through with a t horn? Wilt thou play with him as
'th a bird? or wilt thou bind him for thy maidens? By his n eesings a lig ht
th shine, and his eyes are like t he eyelids of the morning. 011t of his
lllouth go burning lamps, and sparks of fire leap out. Out of his nosgoeth smoke, as out of a seething pot or cauldron. His breath kineth coals, and a flam e goeth out of his mouth. In his neck r emaineth
. · ngth, and sorrow is turned into j oy before him."

~

··~§ .266.

The simplest form in which 'ublimity develops it.

What Is tho prin cipal source of tho snblimu? Frorn this sourco what derivo
": granucur? H ow is 11 stream that confines itself to its b:rnks chnracterlzed? WJ1en
' the same stre.am become 8ublirn o? Repeat th e remark of Longinus. What is
highest exertion of human might? What kind of a spectacle docs a battle, th ere. ··constitute? What animals form tho subject of some of the grandest passages?
are the war-horse· and the leviathan described in sublim e terms? Repeat those
' ere
·ptlons.
f266. What Is tho silllplest form in wlilch sublimity develops itself?

Give som<'

,..

.,
THE SUBLIME.

THE SUBLHtIE.

self is vastness. Wide-extended plains, to which the eye dis·
cerns no limit; the :firmament of heaven ; the boundless ex;
panse of ocean,-furnish us with familiar examples.
·ti·

.pi.ce or tower from which we contemplate objects beneath, is
.~till ~rand:r. The sublimity of the firmament arises as well
from its height as from its vast extent.

196

) r ,. Our every-d~y actions show that we are aware of the effect proTo connect greatness of size with greatness of character is natural, ,
particularly with un enlightened minds. The Scythians, for example,
,quced
.. on t he m111d by elevation · ·we rais·e · lofty monumen t s, an d on
.
,then·
tops. place. the
· ht as IS
· comwere so impressed with tb.e fame of Alexander the Great that they
~ .
. statues of our heroes
· , at as gi·e a t a h eig
_iRat1ble with d1~t11~c tness of view. So thrones are erected for kings, and
thought h e must be a giant, and were astonished when they found rum
elevated
seats tor Judges and magistrates· Among a 11 na t'10ns, FI eaven
to be rather under th an above their own size.
·
!:l' :
. .
The mind is inaderiuate to the conception of infinity, and intuitively
.1,8 placed fat· abo~c, Hell ! ar below. Why are these directions prefer~~~ to allot.hers, if the mrnd does not instinctively connect an idea of
invests whatever approaches it with n character of grandeur. Henc~
.g1:~ndeur w1th g reat h eight and depth 1
infinite space, enill css numbers, and eternal duration, possess t ' - _
quality in an eminent degree. It must be observed, however, tha~
arl. § 268. ~'he solemn and the terrible arc important elements
where there is such variety in the parts of any object that one eamio,'
.~
the sublime; hence, darkness, solitude, and silence, which
be infcrrcil fr om nnot110r, nnl c 0 ~ th ry arc of melt ~izc thnt nll can _]Je
__
,
av~
a.. tcuJ1c:n cy to fill tl!e mind with awe, contribute much to
taken in ut one view, n portion of t he sublimity is lost_ "\\'hen there' a
18
~bhm1ty. It is not the gay landscape the flowery field or
. that the whole cannot b e comprehen cl cd at once, the
such immenSlty
.flourishing city,
proclnces the
of
mind is distracted rath c1· tlrnn r-n!'i Ffi f'•'l , nnd iR cxcifrd only to nn 'id·
ferior deg ree of pleasure. With the sky and the ocean this is not th~
Jlt the hoary rnountam, and the Rolitary lake · the aged forest
case ; .because what is invisible is the couuterpart of what we see, and
"%d the torrent falling down the precipice. '
'
from such p ortions as meet th e eye imagination can readily draw Ui,e
;; Hence, too, night scenes are generally the most sublime. The firmapictw·e of such as are concealed from it. ·when, however, every P~ll
~e~t, wl~en fill ed with stars i11 mag nificent profusion, strikes the imagimust be seen that an idea of the whole may be formed, any degree .~
,n~~ion wi~h a more awful grandeur than when we view it enlightened
magnitude inconsistent with distinctness diminishes tho effect. Ad ·
.~Y
the brigl~test noon-da~ sun. The sound of a bell and the striking of
sou's observation is therefore just, that there would hnve b een more true
a large cl~ck are a~ any time grand; but they become doubly so, when
sublimity in one of Lysippus' statues of .Alexander, though no larger th~
hear? amid ~he stillness of night. In d escriptions of the Deity, darklife, than in the vast Mount Athos, had it been cut into the figure of the
nes.: 1.s often rn~ro.duc ed, and wi t h g reat effect, as a means of imparting
hero, according to the proposition of Phidias, with a river in one hall~
~ditwnal ~ubh.m1ty to ~he subject. "He maketh darkness his pavilion,"
and a city in the other.
wth the rnsp1red writer· "He dwelleth in the th" k 1 d" s

~- ~e

;

§ 267. All vastness produces th e impression of sublimit~

.I

This impression, how ever, is less vivid in objects extended in
length or breadth than in such as are vast by reason of the~
height or depth. Though a boundless plain is a grand objec~ .
yet a high mountain to which we look up, or an awful preci·

)Jilton : -

~hat

e~otion

'

IC

grandc~r:

C OU •

"How oft, amidst
Thi ck clou ds nnd dark, does H eaven's all-ruling Sire
Choose to r eside, his glory unobscnred,
And with tho maj esty of darkness round
Circles his thron e I"

Obscurity is anoth er source of the sublime.
fnmili ar cxnmples. With what is it naturnl to conne ct greatness of character?
did th e Scythians think re~pccting Al exander the G reat? T o what is th e mind fjj;.
ad equate? Wh at. obj ects, t herefor e, nro emin ently grand? Wh en there is vnrlety
the pnrtR of an object, w hat 1legree of magnitud e is inconsistent wilh the highest sub"
Iimity? Wh y does n ot this principle operate In the case of the sky nod the ocean
What rem ark docs Addison make In illustra tion of this point P
'·
§ 26 7. Wi th th o s:un e size, In w hat directions must h olli es be (IXtended, to bo m
sublime? H ow docs a bou1111lcss pl ain compare with a hi gh mountain or nn awllll

o,

precipice? To what Is th e sublimi ty of the fi rmam ent owing?

1Ve

How, In every-dny

~do we avni! ourselves of the effects produced by elevation?. Why do all nations

~te Heaven above them, an d H e ll belo w?

. J--268. What other <:l ements contribute l~rgel y to th e sublime? Gil'e instances of
r effect. As regards sublimit.y, what is tl~ e effect of darkness on the heavens the
_ . d of bells, &c.? What is often lntrolluced into clcscrlptlons of the Deity and ~Ith
t effect ? Give nn example from Scr ipture; from Jlfllton.
'

t

~

- --

--~

)

198

--- -

...

THE SUBLIME.

have seen that in natural and visible objects, when a portiori1
of the form is seen, it is essential that the whole be within ..
reach of the eye, unless there is such uniformity that its ap~~
pearance can be readily inferred. lYhen no part, however, :
is visible or material, but the whole is left to imn g ination, the",
obscurity and uncertainty fill the mind with indcscribabl~
awe. · Thus we find that descriptions of supernatural being~
are characterized by sublimity, though the ideas they yield·~ ··
are confused and indistinct. The superior power we attribute~ ·
to such beings, the obscurity with which they arc veiled, mid .
the awe thev awaken in our minds, n ecessarily render them·
sublime. The grand effect of obscurity is obvious in the fol~
1
lowing passage from the book of Job : "In thotwhts from the visions of the night., when deep sleep falletli
on men fear ~ame upon me and trembling, whi ch mad e all my bone~
to shak~. Then a spirit p;ssed before my. face; the hair of my fies~
st-0od up. It stood still, but I could not c~1scern t he form thereof:. a~
image was b efore miue eyes, there. was sil ence, and I heard a voice,
saying, 'Shall mortal man be more JUSt than God? shall a man be mor~ .
pure than bis Maker? ' "
,
As a general principle, all obj ects greatly elevated, or for removed 11$ "
regards either space or time, are apt to strike us as g rand. "'Whatever
is viewed through the mist of di&tance or antiquity loom s larger than i~
natural size. Hence epic poets find it expedient to select as heroes the ·
great personages of b ygone times, rather than those of their own day1
though equally distinguish ed.
·~

'rHE SUBLlllIE.

-199

When we gaze at things strictly regular in their outline
and methodical in the arrangement of their parts, we feel a
.~ense of confinement incompatible with mental expansion.
. ·\., Exact propo1·tion of parts, though it often contributes additional
~!feet to the beautiful, sel<lom enters into the sublime. A great mass of
".t,q9ks thrown wildly and confusedly together by the hand of nature
· v~oduce.s a greater impression of grandeur in the mind than if they had
b,~en adJnstcd to.each other with the utmost taste and care.

? . § 27 ~ . . We h~vc thus far considered sublimity as bclongJDg to v1s1blc tlungs merely ; it may, however, characterize
.9bj.ects of hearing, as well as those of sight. Among the arts
winch. please the imagination through the ear, poetry and
rhetonc have already been enumerated. Though, with the
~d of conventional characters which represent words and
thereby ideas, they address the eye, and may therefore be un~1crsto~d by the deaf, yet they are to be regarded as primarily
pppeahng to the ear, and governed by principles laid down
jVith the direct view of producing the liveliest effect on that
frnan. Accordingly, uu<lcr the head of sublimity, as pertain¥ig to objects of l1caring, we must treat of the sublime in
!writing i and this, by reason of its importance, will constitute
a separate lesson. It remains for us here to enumerate the
sounds characterized by sublimity. These are included in
five classes, as follows : -

It follows that no ideas are so sublime us those connecte~.
with the Supreme B eing, the least known but incomparably
the greatest of all things; the infinity of whose nature and
the eternity of whose duration, joined to the immensity of
His power, though they transcend our conceptions, yet exalt .
them in the highest degree.
§ 270. Sublimity is also frequently

.'fj-1· Those assoc iate.cl with ideas of maj esty, solemnity, deep melancholy,

§ 26!J. Whn.t is another source of the sublime ? Show the rlilfercn ce in this respc~t
bct,Y ccn 111nterial and immaterial thin gs. Whnt is snid of s upernatural object~? Quote ,
fl:om ,Job n sub lime pnssm;e descriptive of rt'spirit. As n gr ncrnl prin ciple, what objects
strike us as grn1Hl ? Why do epic poets select ns h eroes personages of bygone tim~r,
With wb om arc our subl imest ideas connected?
§ 270. ny what is sul>limit.y frcrp1 cntly heighten ed?

larity p~oduce? To whilt docs exact prop<lrt ion of parts contribute y In what position
. •~o massive rocks produce the greatest impression of grandeur?
· §271. To what, besid es objects of sight., docs sublimity belong? To what sense are
lh.J arts of poetry nnd rh etoric addresse d? With wh at three cln.sses of ideas must

J I. Those associated with

ideas of danger; such as, the howling of a
storm, the rumbling of an earthquake, the groaning of a volcano
l' · the roaring of thunder, the report of artillery.
'

'

~.
~':

Those associated with great power actively exerted; as, the noise
of a torrent, the fall .of a cataract, the uproar of a tempest, the dash
of waves, the cracklmg of a conflagration.

' ?r profound gncf;

as, the sound of the trumpet and other warlike
mstruments, the notes of the organ, the tolling of the bell, &c.

~.....__

~ -

....
200

THE SUBLIME.

THE SUBLIME IN WilITING.

IV. Of the notes of animals, those awaken the emotion of grandeur!
which are known to proceed from strong or ferocious creatures. ~ '
examples of this class, the roar of the liun, Lhc growling of bearst' 'the howling of wolves, and the scream of the eagle, mn.y be melf,] •
tioued.
·ri
V. Those souuds of the human voice may be aecu un Lc<l subl im e whic4,
indicate that the more serious emot ions,- $n rrow, t('rr 0 r, nn<l t.h~
like,-are strougly excited. The tones which, in gcncrnl, <lcnote a
high degree of emotion , will be found to h e loud, grnvc, lengthened,
and swelling.

§ 272. It will be seeu tliat the subli mity uf sou11u

iiut there is no

comparison between them in point of sublimity, because

W'e know the one to be a savage, and the other a domestic, animal.
There are few animal sounds so loud as the lowing of a cow ; yet it will
We
may therefore infer that soun1ls posRess this quality, not by reason of
ihy inherent character, but only through the associations connected
With them.

·b~ admitted that it is far from being characterized by sublimity.·

-.--- ~·---

arises;~~~

not from any inherent quality or independent fitness to pro·
duce the emotion, but exclusively from the associa,tion of
ideas.

.1

201

This is evident from the fact that, as soon as the souud is separated ·<
from the idea, it ceases to be sublime. Thns, pc1·sons who ttrc afraid of.'
thunder frequ ently mistake some common sound for it, such us the roll'i
ing of a cart or carriage. ·while the mistake continues, they feel al\
emotion of sublimity; but, the moment th ey ttrc un<lccc i vc<l, they ar~
the first to laugh at their error and ri<licul c the noise that occttsioned
it. Similar mistakes are often marlc, in those countries where carthJ
quakes are common, b etween inconsidernble soun<ls and the low rum:
bling noise which is said to precede such an eve nt; there cttn be no .
doubt that, the moment the truth is discovered, the emotion of sublimi:,
ty is at an end. So, children a re at first as much imprcssc<l with the,.
thunder of the theatre as with that of the genuine tempest; hut, when
they und erstand U1c delusion, regard it ns uo more than the insignificant
noises they he ttr eYery day. Again, to the Highlander the sound of the
bag-pipe is sublime, because it is the mn.rtinl instrum ent of his country,: ·
and is constantly associated with splendi<l ttnd mngnificent imnges; toJ. ·
the rest of the world, the instrument is at best bn.rely tolerable. Final-,
ly, that sublimity in the tones of aninml s arises from associations with.
their character seems obvious from several con siderations. The howl..
of the wolf differs little from that of the dog eith er in tone or strength;. •
sounds be associated, in order to be sublime? Give exam pl es or each. or tlrn notcs ·
1
of animals, which awaken the emotion of grandeur? ·what sounds of tho hum an volc~ .
1
are accounted sublime? What tones denote a high degree of emotio n?
§ 2i2. From what does the sublimity of sound ari se? What evi<lence is there of).
this?. Illu strate the point by stating what takes place wh en some in significant sound, ,
Is mistaken for thunder or th o rumbling of an earthquake. How is the sound of tho .
bng-pipo regarded by th<' Hlghlanil cr? IT ow, by the r c~t of tl10 worlrl? Wlrnt oc""· · ·.

LESSON XL.
T II E

·'io

S U B L I Jli E

I N

W It I T I N G.

§ 273 . For a literary composition to possess sublimity, it

iS: necessary that the subject be sublime i that, if a scene or
natural object, it be one wliicL, exhibited to us in reality,
would inspire us wtth thoughts of the elevated, awful, and
~agnificent character that has been described. This excludes
what is merely beautiful, gay, or elegant. If it be attempted,
with the aid of rhetoric, to make any such object the theme
. of a sublime composition, the effort will prove a failure, and
~ombast or frigiLlity of style will result.

§ 27 4. W c shall find, then, that the passages generally
accounteu sublime arc, for the most part, descriptions of the
natural objects mentiolltld i.n the last lesson as capable of pro·
ducing the emotion of grandeur; or, in other words, of what
, I
is. vast, mighty, magnificent, obscure, dark, solemn, loud, pa~betic, or terrible.
~1

!~ ' Shakspearc, in th e following lines, furnishes us with a fine example
of sublimity, arising from the vastness of the objects successively preilons the diO'erenco? From what docs sublimity la the tones of animals arise? Illus•
. § 273. What is essential to sublimity in a literary composition? If a scone or natural
· qbje'ct is treated of, what must be Its character? What Is excl.udod? What will re. ault, if it be attr m11t r d to wri~e sublimely on a tri vial subject?
•...;·' § ·274. Of what., then, fur tho most part, aro sublime passages descriptions? Repeat
the quotation from Shak, pc11rr, lllHI 8how wh erein Its sublimity consii;ts.

trate this.

g•

202

sented, and the pathetic thought that all this magnificence
ness is destined to destruction.

l"

Compare with these the fine passage in the sixth book of Paradise

Lost, than which nothing could be more lofty or forcible.
~

"N\>w storming fnry roso,
And clamor such as heard in Heaven till now
\V ns never; Rrms on itrmor clnshtng hrnyed
IIorribl.o discord, and tho madding wheels
Of brnzcn chariots raged; dire was the nolso
Of conflict; ovor-heacl the dismal hiss
Of fiery darts In flaming volleys flolV,
And flying vaulted either host with fire.
So nnd er fiery copo together rushed
Buth bnttlcs rnniu, with ruinous nssnult
And Inextinguishable rnge; all Heaven
Jtcsounded; and, had earth been then, all '"onrth
Had to her contra shook."

"The cloud'cnpt towers, tho gorgeous palaces,
'l'he solemn temples, th e groat globe itself,
Yea, nil which it inherit, shnll dissolve;
And, like an insubstantial pageant faded,
Lenve not a rack behind."

As observed in § 265, battles are among the sublimest spectacles on
which the eye can gaze, by reason of their displaying immense power in
the act of violent exertion. 'Ve may, therefore, look for the same element of grandeur in descriptions of such scenes. H omer furni shes one
of the sublimest, as well as earliest, in the whole range of poetry.
"'Vhen now gathered on either side, the hosts plunged together in
fight; ~hidd i~ hnrshly lni<l to shield; spearf< ('rn~h 011 the hrn.zP.n corse·
lets; bossy buckler with buckler meets; loud tur11u](. rn gns over all;.
groans are mixed with the exulting shouts of men; the slain and the
slayer join their cries; the earth is floating round with bl ood. AB
when two rushing strean1s from two mountains come roaring down, and'
throw togeth er their mpi<l waters below, they roar along the gulfy vale. ·
The startled sh epherd hears the sound, as he stalks o'er the distant ·
hills; so, as they mixed in fight, from both armi es clamor with loud .
terror ·arose."
From Ossian we t~ke another description of a battle-scene, which
bears, it will be observed, a decided resemblance to the one last quoted,
both in the enumeration of circumstances, and in the comparison of the
contending hosts to two mountain torrents. Both are eminently su · ,
lime, presenting to us in a few words a succession of striking images. ~~· ·
"Like Autumn's dark storms pouring from two echoing hill s, towardi
each other approached the h eroes ; as two <lark streams from high rocks
meet and roar on the plain, loud, rough, and dark in battle, meet Loch•
lin and Ini sfail. Chief mixes his strokes with chief, and man with man I
Steel sounds on steel, and h elmets are cleft on high : blood bursts an~
smokes around: strings murmur on the polished yews: darts rush alon
the sky : spears fall like circles of light which gild the stormy face o
night.
.
·,1
"As the noise of the troubled ocean when roll the waves on high, 88
the last peal of thundering heaven, such is the noise of battl e. Though
Cormac's hundred bards were there, feeble were the voice of a. hundred
bards to send the deaths to futur e times; for runny were the deaths ofr .
the heroes, and wide poured the blood of the vo.liant."
"~ ·
What arc among th~nbliinest spectacles, and why? What follows with respect tO
descriptions of bnttl e-scencs? · From what two authors nre general descriptions of bat-.
ties qnoted? How do they compare In point of sublimity? In what respects do ther
resemble euch other? What other poet's description of I\ !limilnr scene is presente<U
Repent it. How, in your opinion, does it compare in point of grnndeur with the two
extracts just given?

203

THE SUBLIME IN WRITING.

THE SUBLIME IN WRITING.

~ p.

.

. , Da 1-kll l'"~, o1iccurity, nnd <li:lliculty, arc ititroducccl with fine effect
· into the following passage from Milton, which describes the travelling
(If the fallen angels through their dismal habitation:-

flt.-

" O"er mnny a dark and dreary vale
They pnssecl, and many a region dolorous;
O_'cr many n frozen, many a fi ery Alp;
Hocks, cnvcs, lak es, fens, Logs, dens nncl shade~, of deathA universe of dcnlh." ·

;j

)

Seldom. has a supernatural being been represe~ted with such genuine
ytblimity as in the following fine extract from Ossian, descriptive of
Fingal's interview with the spirit of Loda. The ghost is invested with
obscurity, might, and terror; the king of l'lforven, with fearless heroism;
~e darkness of night is around: all things contribute to intensify the
~blimity, with which, it may be added, the simple sententiousness of
the style is eminently in keeping.

i; "A blast
came fro_m the ~ou~tain: on its wings was the spirit of
He came
Ins
m J;tis terrors, and
his dusky spear.

~.da.

~o

plac~

~boo~

ltis eyes appear like flames m his dark face: his voice is like distant
thunder. Fingal advanced his spear in night, and raised his voice on
_\igh. 'Son of night, retire: call thy winds, and fly! Why dost thou
~,me to .~Y pres~nce with thy shado:vy arms r . Do I fear thy gloomy
~ ti)rm, spmt of dismal Loda r Weak is thy slueld of clouds· feeble is
~at meteor th:y sword I The blast rolls them together: and 'thou thyefilf art lost. Ji ly from my presence, son of night I call thy winds and
~yl'

•

· What other passage is presented from Milton? What points are introduced with ·
'tale elfect? Whnt speci men fa given of descriptions of supernatural 6bjects? With
hat Is tho ghost invested? With what, the king? What contributes to intensify the
ablimity?
How is the spirit of Lodn described? Whnt does it command Fingal to do? Wbat
JI the.result of the Inter view?

204

THE SUBLIME IN WRITING.

"'Dost thou force me from my place 1' replied the hollow voice. '.I
turn the battle in the field of the brave. I look on the nations, and
they vanish : my nostrils pour the blast of d eath. I come .abr?ad o~ .
the winds: the tempests are before my face. Bnt my dwellmg is callll
above the clouds; pleasant are the fields of my rest.'
"'Dwell in thy pleasant fields,' said the king. 'Let Cornhal's son
be forgotten. Do my steps ascend from my hills into thy peaceful
plains? Do I meet thee with a spear on thy cloud, spirit of disma!
Loda? Why then dost thou frown on me 1 Why shake thine airt
spear? Thou frownest in vain: I never fled from the migh ty in wari
and shall the sons of the wind frighten the king of :Morve1d No-he ·
knows the weakness of their m·ms.'
"'Fly to thy land,' r eplied the form; 'take t.o the wiml, and fly I
The blasts are in the hollow of my hand: the course of the storm '
mine. Fly to thy land, son of Comlrnl, or feel my flaming wrath I'
"Ile lifted high his shadowy spear I he bent forward his dreadful
h eight. Fingal, advancing, drew . his sword, the blade of dark-brown'
Luno. Th.e gleaming path of the steel winds through the gloomy ghos
The form fell shapeless into air.''
J.

§ 275 . Besides the objects enum erated in the last lesson(
there is another class from which the subjects of the sublimest
passages are often taken. They consist of the great ana
heroic feelings and acts of men; and the elevation
which di~·,j
'
tinguishes them is generally known as the moral or sent~··
niental sublime. w ·h en, in an extremely critical position, a
person forgets all selfish interests and is controll ed by higli1
inflexible principles, we have an instance of the mor4 ·
sublime.
The most fruitful sources of moral sublimity are these:I. Firmness in the cause of truth and justice.

1.

-'. I

Of this species of heroism, ancient Roman history furnishes man7
distinguished examples. Brutus, with unyielding sternness sentenc'
his sons to death, for having conspired against their country; and TiWa
Manlius, ordering his son to the stake, for engaging with an enemy co
trary to his command ;-excite in our minds the most elevated idea&
Socrates is another instance, who chose to die by hemlock, thou8'!
means of escape were in his power, because their employment might haTe
been construed into an admission of guilt. Above all, among never-f.b.
§ 275. What is meant by the moral or sentimental sublime? When bave we !nslallccs of the m oral ~ublime? WJ,at is the first source of morn! sublimity? What W.,
tory fnrni sh e3 us examples of this species of heroism ? Mention two. What !llustra•
is nfTorcfo,1 by S00rntcs' career? ·what other memorable examples nre cited? Whaijl
the second source of th e morn! sublime? Show how the story of Damon and Pyf.lil!I
fnrnislles two examples of moral sublimity. What instnnce is citccl from Roman 1.

THE SUBLIME IN WRITING.

205

b~forgotten instances of the moral sublime, are to be mentioned the
~eroic deaths of the Christian martyrs, who, amid tortures inconceiva~le, in flames and on the rack, testified to the reality of their faith.
"w II. Generous self-sacrifice in behalf of another.
!<• The sto1·y o~ Damon and Pythias, the former of whom, having ineurred the enmity of the tyrant Dionysius, was by him sentenced to
~at~, furnishes l~s with two remarkable examples : first, that of
rytluas, who remnrns as hostage during his friend's farewell visit to his
fi!mily, on condition of suffering in his stead if he does not return at the
~ppointed time; .and, second~y, that of Damon, who, refusing to profit
by the self-devot10n of Pythias, comes back in s.eason to redeem his
, pledge. We find nnother forcible illustration in the career of Coriola ·
nus; when '. after having been b esought in vain by the Iea,ding men of
Rome, he yields to his mother's tears and prayers, though aware that
· the consequ ences will be fatal to himself, and consents to withdraw his
~ fll'IDY with the sad words, "Mother, thou hast saved Rome,_:_but lost
Ply son I " Equally sublime is the self-devotion of Codrus the last
~thenian king. Informed by the oracle, that, in a battle ~hich was
.~b~ut to take place, Athens or her king must perish, he rushed into the
thickest of the fight, and by the sacrifice of himself saved as he thought
~=~

,

,

( i

.·. III. Self-possession and fearlessness in circumstances of

anger.

;;
· . Of such elevated emotion, an incident in the career of Cresar affords
a striking illustration. Crossing, on one occasion, a branch of the sea,
~was overtaken by a tempest of such violence that the pilot declared
~elf u nable to proceed, and was in the act of turning back. " Quid
~es? Occs~rem vehis I" " What do you fear 1 You carry Cresar 1"
:w;as the sublime reply. We have another example of heroism in Mu·'!s Screvola, thrusting his arm into Porsenna's camp-fire, to :show how
ihe scorned his threatened tortures, and keeping it there with unmoved
~untenancc t ill it was entirely consurr;e<l. More than this, we see the
lfiect produced by the act; for Porsenna was so struck with it that he
·~ye the youth, who had (/Omc to murder him, his life, and subsequent;ljr ,negotiated a peace with Rome.

' . IV. Exalted patriotism.
the height of the moral sublime.

1 What, fro'.11 ~he ;nrl! h.lstory of Athens? Wh;t is the third source of moral subUy? Exe mplify 1t with mc1dents drawn from the career of Cresar and that of Mucius
vol11. What ls the fonrth source of moral sublimity? lllustrate this with an ac-

Ii

-

-

207

THE SUBLllllE IN WitITING.

THE SUBLIME IN WRITING.

Wounded on the Plains of Abrnham, in the very dcath-ngo11 y , he hearq ·
the distant shout, "They fly! th ey fly!"- " Who fly I " eagerly asked
·
the dying h ero.-" The enemy," r eplied
on e ofl'11 s o fl'~ ccr s.-"Th"
en, ,
sO:iJ. h e, "I die happy 1" and expired. Anoth er Jl otablc 111sta11cc, quoted
by all French critics, occm s in 011.c of Co rn eille's trngcdies. In ~he
famous combat b et ween t h e liorutii ::ind the Curiatii, the old 1I~ratrns1
b eing informed that two of his sons arc slain , and th at the tlurd ~as
b etaken himself to flight, at first will not beli e \·c th e report; but., berni
thoroughly assured of the fac t , he is filled with grief and in l~ignati_on at
this supposed unworlh y behavior of hi s smvivin g son. Ile is .rc1mnded
that his son stood alone against three, and is asked what h e '~ s hed tha~ .
1
he had done. "That he h ad died 1" ( Qu'il mo u?'llt I") is the r eply.

Thus, if a storm is the subject, something else is necessary than to say
°that torrents of rain pour down, and trees and houses are overthrown.
We must seize on the more striking phenomena with which it is attended, and dwell only on its grander effects.

206

•.-1 § 277. Conciseness is one of the most important essen. ~jals of sublimity in writing~ The greatest thoughts must
~~presented in the fewest words.
If the specimens in the
· last les&on, particularly those from Homer and Ossian, are
'examined, it will be seen that this is their leading feature i no
words arc introduced unless essential to the idea.

LESSON .XLI.
THF. SU llLHlE iN WH.lTIN C< (CONTINUED) .

S 27G. 'l'o give effect to th e description vf a subli me
j ect, a clear, strong, concise, and simple, style, must be em· ·
p1oyel1.

.

, "I love God and little children," says the G erman philosopher Richter. In what more clcYated terms could he ha ve expressed his love for
sinlessness and inn ocence ? The sentence is grand, because so strikingly
- c ondensed . Th e same concisen ess constitutes the sublimity of Cresar's
famous VE:sor , YID!, v ier, i11 which h e announced to the Senate the result of one of his hr1ttlcs ; a my inf.!: which loses just half its terse energy, when lra 1i.sl:itrd i11 t" J·: 11gli,d1, "I. can1r, I saw, I conrp1crcJ."
In the srntcncc h cforc 'l110t r1l , "Q• 1id times? Ccrsarnn i•diis ," the
eifect is nlso <luc . in a rnr:1 surc, tu the sc11tc11tious11css of the style. It is
readil y seen h0w 11111eh is g:1i 11rrl l1y conc isr 11cc'S, \d1cn we cuniparc\Yilh
these brief nnd elu'l uc11t wonls of t he foarlcss conrptcror, Lucn 11 's account of the sce ne, in which, Jyy nLtc mp t i11 g lo amplify and adorn the
ought, h e hn s dil11tccl it in to i11,ig11ifica11c c.
"H11t C:r,c.:'.l.r, still f:llpcrio r to di.<.:.frc s~,
l'C'nrl c.->s and co 110d c11 t of r-;urc snccc::-:~\

These different qualities of style wi ll lie 1r(' :i tct1 nf hrrcaft er ; their ,'
general ch aracter is sufficiently understood for oui· present purpo~~
Every thing must b e painted in such t erms :i.s to leave no r oom for !Ill!'
npp rclH•ns ion. T o ensure Rt.rength , rn ch circ nm~tan ccs 1:rnst be .selected
fur the lkscript i•>n as c.\ li iJ,il tl1e "l>jr"t i11 a dnkini:; ]'lllllt "f .yicw. It
is plain that things present different appearances to us accord111g to the
side we look upon; and that, when th ere are a variety of circumstances,
out· ,1f.,criplin11s ,1- il\ var:; in cl rnr:w l"l' acco1·1li11 u; tn tlinsr \1·~ 8-clccL In
this selectio n lies the greal art ,Tf tltl~ C•)!ilp<H'r, a11d tJir <]1fl1cnlty 0£
i<uhlime writiiw. H ll~e 1l c-n il'ti<1 11 is too gc11cral, nil•l li nrrcn of ci.J-.
~umstances,
can not present a forcible pictme; whi le, i~ any triv~
or common-place circumstance is iutrocluced,·--~-=- whole Is degraded.

Th us to th e pilot loud :- ' The seas despise,
A nll tho vai n threatening of the noisy skies;
T hough gods deny t hee yon An so nian strand ,
Y ct c:(I, I c!inr!..". c you~ t:ci, nt. my c1)1J1nrn1H1.
Tliy igrwra11 ce alunc can cause thy fc:U.'\

Thou know 'st not what a fr eight thy vessel bears;
Thou know'st not I am he to whom 'tis gi ven
\\·rrnt lilt' Crl.fl' nf \\· 11 t c!if1iJ lJ r'.l\(' 11 ,
(H1 c ili 1·11 t f(lrt\lTl L' wnit9 lllY h1nnH l• tlirn ll,
And, nlwnys ready, cm n e!'. l1rfuro I enll.
Let winds and :::rns loud w:H~ nt frc·r do1n wng<",
.i\'t"'H'r 10

w:

count of W olfe's .d eath-scene. Wh at ·notabl e illstance of exnltcll patriotism occura1ll
one of Corn eill e's trngedies ?
§ 216. T o give effect to th e description of a sublim e object, what kind of 11 style
mu st he empl oyerl? H ow mn st e;·ery thin g be paintecl? To ensure strength,
circnmstan crs mn st be sclcde<l for th e description? In whnt lies the great art of~~
liin e wri~in ;:'. o 1f th o (lt•ceription is too general, wl1at follo ws? ·what., if a trivial ,clll!

w\J;,

And waste upon thcmrnl \' CS th eir empty rage I
WDl8tance Is Introduced ? If a storm is tho subject, what must be seized on, and what
untouched?
,.S277. What quality of style is particularly condnclvc to sublimity? What must be
i'!character of the th o nght~, nrnl whnt of the words? ·what will be found, on exlnlng th e specimens in the last lesson? Give a sentence from Richter, which IS sub·
by reason of its 0oncisencss. Give one from Crosar. ·when translated into Eng·
how does this ~en tencc comp~re in sublimity with the original? What other

lbie
.IJdi.

.----,
I

208

,.

.

THE SUBLIME IN WRITING.

THE SUBLIME IN WIUTING.

209

. § 279. The writer must not only be concise and simple ;
ho must also have a lively impression of his subject. If his
own enthusiasm is not awakened, he cannot hope to excite
i emotion in others.

A stronger, mightier, demon is thy friend;
Thou and thy bark on Cresar's fate depend.
Thou stand'st amazed to view this dreadful Hceno,
And wondcr'st what the gods nncl fortune mean:
nut artfully their bounties thus th ey raise,
Aud from my dan ger arrogate new praise;
Amidst tho fears of death th ey bid mo live,
And still enhance what they nre sure to givo."-RowE.

. .tt.
•

1 ~'

§ 278. Simplicity is no less essential to sublimity tha~

conciseness. The words employed must be, not only f~w, bu~
plain. I-Iigh-flown and turgid expressi~n.s must be avoided nO.
less carefully than mean, low, and trivial ones. Ornament,
however conducive to beauty of style, is here out of place.
Nothing is more mistaken than to s~ ppose that .magnifice~t
words, accumulated epithets, and swcllrng exprcss10ns, const1;

, -:- All for ced attempts by which a writer endeavors to excite himself
-and his readers, when his imagination b egins to flag, have just the oppo. ei~ effect from what is intended. A poet gains nothing by labored apFals, invocations of the muses, or general exclamations concerning the
greatness, terribleness, or majesty, of what he is about to describe. vYc
find an example of such forced introductions in Addison's description of
t!>:e Battle of Blenheim.

,.

. § 280. "When, therefore, an awe-inspiring object is pre-

tute r eal elevation.
This will be apparent from an illustration. Longim1: and all ?ritica
h·i time to the present have concurred in atLributrng the lngh~)
.
f rom s
.
fl' ht
sublimity to the verse in Genesis which desc ribes ~he ~:·cation o ig " '
"And Goel said, Let there be light: ancl there was l 1gh'.'. Bu~ exchan~e
· l'ici•ty for· misplaced ornament-"
The sovereign arbiter
of na1"ts simp
,
.
.~
. b tlie potent energy of a single word, command ed light to exiStlj
t me, y
.. d d
ancl immediately it sprang into being,"- ancl the sound 1.s m ee m
.fi d but the sentiment is deg raded, and the grandeur is gone.
Ill e '
. r 't . r t 1
The reason why a deficiency of conciseness or s1mp 1c.1 y is .a a .
the sublime appears to be this. The emotion in c1ucst1011 raise~ •
mind considerably above its ordinary tone. A temporary ent~usi
is produced, extremely agreeable whi~e ~t last~, but from which ~
mind is every moment in danger of srnkrng to its usu~l level: No}'1
when an author has brought us, or is attempting to brmg us.' mto tbll
state of elevated rapture, if he indulges in unnecessar~ wor~s, if he e~~
to introduce glittering ornaments, if he even throws m a. s.rngle deco
tion that is inferior to the leading image, he loses the cntical mom~
the tension of the mind is relaxed; the emotion is dissipated. The b
tiful may survive; the sublime is sacrificed.
sentence of Crosar's owes a portion of its sublimity to conciseness?
sbown?
k' d f
§ 278. What besid es conciseness is essential to sublimity? ~hat m o expr
must he avoided? Illu strate the different effects produced by .wn~I ~ nnd by high'. ,
)auguage.
Explnin why a deficiency of conciseness or snnplicity Is .fata\J:>•
.•
sublime.

.

"nut, 0 my mu se ! whnt numbers wilt thou find
To sing the furious troops in battle joined f
'
Methinks I hear the drum's tumultuous sound,
The victor's shouts, and dying groans confound;" &c •

~nted

in nature, a grand creation in art, an exalted feeling in
. the human mind, or a heroic deed in human action · then if
Wr'own impression is vivid, and we cxhibft it in brief pl~in
,..
'
'
an,d simple terms, without rhetorical aids, but trusting mainly
19-the dignity which the thought naturally assumes, we may
ope to attain to the sublime.
':·

1

Sublimity, by its very nature, awakens but a short-lived emotion.
of ge~ii ns can the mind for .any considerabl~ ~i~e be kept so
~, raised above its common tone. Neither are the abilities of any hulJl!'n writer suffici ent to furnish a long continuation of uninterruptedly
lublime ideas. The utmost we can expect is that the fire of imagina~n' should sometimes flash upon us, like lightning from heaven, and
~n disappear. No author is sublime throughout, in the true sense of
: e word. Yet there are some, who, by the strength and dignity of
~ir. conceptions, and the current of high ideas that runs throughout
eir compositions, keep their readers' minds in a state of comparative

<B,i, n~ force

.:\r".

)279. Wh nt else must n writ~r hn>e, to write sublimely? What is sai d of forced
pts to excite one's self and one's renders? From what does a writer gain notb·
Illustrnto this from Addison.
·
·280. How, then, may we hope to nttnin to the sublime? What kind of an emotion
, eubllrnity nwnkcn? Why can not tho emotion continue for any length of time f
Is tho utmost we can expect? Can nny author hope to be sublime throughout?
is the nearest approach t<J it? What writers among the ancients, and who
. g modernP, are distingnished for the elcvatctl tone which runs throughout their
IUons?

210

'l'IIE SUBLIME IN WRITING.

'!'HE SUl\Lll\IE IN WIUTINO.

elevation. In this class Pindar, Demosthenes, nnd Plato, nmong th~J
ancients, and Ossian and Milton, among modem£<, arc worthy of being{
ranked.

§ 281. A~ unimproved state of society is pcculirnly favor~ t

able to the production of sublime eompositious. ·when the'!
mind is unaccustomed to the ornamental, it is more apt to ap~
preciate and admire the granJ. In the infancy of nations~
men are constantly meeting with objects to them new anq;
striking; the imagination is kept glowing ; and the passions ar~
often vehemently excited. They think bolJly, and express
th eir thoughts "·ithout restraint. AJvnnces towards refine'.
ment are conducive to the development of beauty in style, but
·l.C
signally limit the sphere of the sublime.

.,.

We find this theory b orne out by fact. As a gcncrnl thing, the sulY.
limcst writers li:wc fl ouri sh ed either in the ea rly ng c~ of the world or ina
the infancy of their respective nations. Thu s, the grnndcst of all p~
sages are found in the earliest of books, the Bil>lc. The style of the in,
spired writers is characterized by a sublimit.y commen surate with the
majesty and solemnity of their snujccts. What can transcend in grnU:
deur the following descriptions of the Almigh1 y? Th e ~tndcnt is r •
quested to ob$erve how th"y cmn hine th11 vn.r ion~ element.<; mentione
above as calculated to elevate the mind nud affect the imagination. t
"In my distress I ca ll ~d upon the Lord, an cl cried unto my ~od: He
h eard my voice out of His temple, ancl my cry en.me before II1.m, even
into His ears. Then th e earth shook and trembled; the fon 11tl at10ns also
of the l1ills mnn'<l nn<l wel'c Rlrnken. l1 ecan~c Ile wa~ wl'oth. There
went up n. smoke ont of Ilis nostrils, and fire out of llis month devoured:
coals w ere kindled by it. lie bowed the h eavens nlso, and came down:
and darkness was un«Jcr Ilis feet. And Ile rode upon a cherub and did
fly: yea, He did fly upon the wings of the wiml . He made darknesa .
Iiis secret place; His pavilion round about Him were dark waters and
thick clouds of the skies."-PsALM xvm., G-11.
"Before Him went the pestilence, and burning coal s went forth at
His feet. He stood, and measured the earth: Ile h chchl , nnd drove
asunder the nations ; and 1·he everlasting mountains were scattered, the
p erpetual hills did bow: His ways arc CY?rlnsting. The mountains sa,- ·
Thee, and they trembled: the overilow111g of tho waters passed by:
{J I
§ 281. ·wh nt sinte of society ls fnrnrnblc to th e sublim e? Explnin the reason. To
"·lmt arc nd rnnces towards r efinem ent con1lucirn? At whnt period do we find tbll
the sublim est writers hnrn fl ourished? Wh at book contains the grnndest of 1111
sages ? ·whnt descr ipti ons are peculinrly subli mo? Repent th e description of the
Almight.y from l' ~alm xviii. ncpcnt tlrn.t from I!nbnkknk. Wh erei n consists the 8~~

his voice, and lifted up his hands on higb."-liABAK! The same remark holus trne in Greek literature. Homer, who was the
• earliest, is al so the most rnblimc, poet that has written in that language,
~ ,ideas bei ng grnnd and hi s diction unaffecteu.
·we haYe already
. ~\l how mag11ilicently he descr ibes a battle. A similar passage, wor~Y. of spec ial mention, occurs in the 20th book of the Iliad. It repreaents the gods llS taking part in an engagement between the Greeks
· an.d Trojan ~. All h ca\'eu aud earth are iu commotion. Jupiter thunders from on high. Minerva and :Mars gird themselves for the terrible
eonflict. N cptunc strikes the earth with his trident; the ships, the
ei?es, and the mountains, shake ; the earth trembles to its centre. Pluto
.tarts from hi s throne, iu dread lest the secrets of the ivfernal regions be
uJ •
liid open to the view of mortals.
.After the magnificent passages quoted from Ossian, it is hardly necessary to say that he is one of the most sublime of writers. He pos• lf:SSCS the plain antl venerable manner of antiquity.
He deals in no
auperfluous or gaudy ornaments, but throws forth his imnge~ with a
rapid conciseness which appeals powerfully to the mind. Among poets
of.ID.ore polish ed times we must look for elaborate graces, exact proportion of part.i>, null skilfully conc111ctetl narratives. In the midst of smi'ling landscnp es, the gn.y nnd bcn.nt.iful hrtvo their }1ome; the sublime
:wells among the rudo scenes of nn.turc and Rocietv which Ossian deacribes; amid rocks and torrents, whirlpools and battles.

LE SS0 N

X L I I.

TIIE SUllLHlE IN WRITING ( CONTlNUED ).

'~ § 282. Rhyme, which generally forms a feature of English

•erse, is unfavorable

to sublimity in writing, by reason of its
cQ,!lStrained elegance, its stu<liea smoothness, and the super-

lmlty of these pns~ngcs ? ·who Is tho sublimest of Greek poets? Give the substance
11"1 fine passnge in the 20th book of the Ili:ttl.

Wb nt is s:iirl of Ossian? D escribe his
Wh ere must we look for U10 elabomto grnccs or "·riling? Where, for the
Ell!me?
,. S282. What is tho effect of rh y m e ns regards sublimity? How does it produce this .

ll;)e.

''

I

f

i

Ii

«'f'

-·
THE SUBLilllE IN WIUTINO.

212

fl.uous words often brought in to produce a recurrence
same sound.
Homer's description of the nod of ;Jupiter hns been admire~ in a~
ages as a model of elevated thought:-" Ile spoke, n.n<l, ~cndrng hi8
sable brows, gave the awful nod; while he shook the cclc~tinl lo?ks o~
his immortal head, all Olympus wns shaken." Pope translates tlus. pas,
sage into English verse, with a dcciJetl loss of sublime effect. . It ~v'.11 b •
seen that h e enlarges on the thought and attempts. to _b cau~1fy it, bu ,
the result is that )1c only weakens it. The third lin e 1~ entirely expletive, being introduced for no other r eason than to furnish a rhyme ~~r,
the preceding one'.
"He spoke: nnd awful bends his snblo brows,
Shakes hi s nmbrosinl earls, nnd gives the nod,
The stamp of fate, and sanction of n god.
Ifo:h hcn,·cn with tremb lin g the dread sig nal took,
A~;I nil Olym pus to its centre shook."

§ 283. The freedom and variety of our blank verse ren~~~
it a <lecid e<lly better medium than rhyme for the express1~, .
of sublime ideas. Hence it is much to be preferred for cp1~
poetry. Milton has availed himself of this fact. 'rhe images
he successively presents in Paradise Lost arc unsurpassed for
gran cl eur. T <ake, for instance , the description of Satan after•
his fall, at the hea<l of the infernal hosts : "He, above the rest,
In sh npo and gesture proudly eminent,
Stoor! like a tower; his form hnd not yet lost
A II her or igi nal brightness, nor appeared
L~ss than nrchnngel min ed; nntl t.he excosa
Of glory ob~cnretl: ns wh en the sn n, new rise n,
J,ooks through the horizontal misty nir,
Shorn of bis beam~; <'r, from behlntl the moon,
In dim eclipse, <li snstrons twilight sheds
On half the nations, nntl with fcnr of chnn go
P erplexes monarchs. Dnrkenetl so, yet shono
Above them all the arehrmgel."

This passage is justly eulogized by Blau'. "Herc," he says, "con~ur
effect? Repeat H omer's description of the nod of Jupiter, ns li.ternlly tr~nslated. ~
pent Pope's trnnslntion of the same. How docs it compare w1lh the ltlcral versl~Df
}~xplain tl1 c 1·cnson.

.
bl'
Id )<!t
§ 283. What kind of verse is preferable to rhyme for tho expre~sto~ of su 1me ll8S
H ence for what should it be employed? Who has thus nsctl 1t with great succ~
·what ;s snid of th e h11n~cs succcfSivcly presen ted in l'nrntlisc Lost? Repent Mil~
description of Sntnn nft,;r his fall. Whnt docs Blnir say nbout this pnssngo?

J

"

TllE SUBLIME IN WIUTING.

"(/ti :

,

.

./~~3

. ..

· ,., -~~~

~.

•·~ :'

'I'· ·-

l!Tariety of sources of the sublime: the principal object eminently great; ,., ...~

.~ !llgh superior nature, fallen indeed, but erecting itself against distress; ~· •
tlie grandeur of the principal object heightened, by associating it with :~

·~;noble an idea as that of the sun suffering .an eclipse; this picture, ,;.,~:

;J'{'.1

1

iBaded with all those images of change and trouble, · of darkb.e8s and
terror, which coincide so fin ely with the sublime emotion; · and the ?.~~
· w~ole ex~resscd in a sty le and versification, easy, natural, and simple, ~
. ~.: ·.
• b'ut' m~gmficent."
·
· :~ ~

·~tr § 284. Those who aim at the sublime are liable to fall into .
t~~ faults,-frigidity and bombast.
. :;
§ 285. Frigidity consists in degrading an object or sen\ixµent which is sublime in itself, by our mean conception of
·it, or by a weak, low, and childish description. No fault is
' more to be avoided.
·v;AS a forcible example of frigi<lity, we quote a passage from a poem of
(

§\1'.Richar<l Blackmoor's, descriptive of an eruption of Etna; in which,
u . humorously observed by Dr. Arbuthnot, he represents the mountain
i81~ fit of colic. ·

a:>;.. ·

Etnn, and all the burning mountains, find
Their kindled stor es with inbred storms of wind
Blown np to rage, and roaring ont complain,
As torn with inward gripes, and torturing pain;
Laboring, th ey cast their dreadful vomit round,
And with their m elted bowels spread the ground."

f So Ben Jonson, in a battle-scene, rather injudiciously caps the climax
of his woul<l-be sublimity by r epresenting the sun in a perspiration.
"The sun stood still, nnd was, behind the cloud
The battle made, seen sweating to drive up
His frighted horse, whom still the noise drove backward."

Oatillne, Act V.

" § 286. Bombast consists in attempting to raise an ordinary
or, trivial object above its level, and to endow it with a subfunity it does not possess. Such attempts illus.trate the old
1a"'ing that there is but a step from the sublime to the ridicf 284.
'S285.

Into what faults are those who aim at the sublime liable to fall?
In wh at does frigidity consist? Quote n passage from Blackmoor, illustrative
ti.Ibis fault. Point out wherein tho frigidity lies. Whnt bas been humorously obeined respecti ng these lines? How does Ben Jonson r eprese nt the 'sun In ii battle'8iie? Of what fault is he th erein guilty?
/
'
S286. In what 11ocs bombast consist? Whnt Is tho mind prone to do f Into what

f

I

-

-- -~

214

THE BEAU T IFUL.

ulous.
-when under the control of violent passions, " the'
mind, it is true, is prone to magnify th e objects of its con~e ~
tions b eyond their natural bounds; but such hyp erbolical "d'e!
scription bas its limits, and, when carried too far, <lege uern~fi
into the burlesque.. B en Jon so n, Black moor, anu DryLlen, ha.u
fall en into this fault.
"Great 1111;1 high
'l'he world knows on ly two, that's Romo nnd I.
My roof rorrins mo nnt ; 'ti• '1i r I trr1•l,
And nt each step l fee l my ndvnncml head
Knock out a star in heaven. "
s .;j<tnus, ,\ct v.
G ive wny, nn •l let th e g ush ing b>rront come;
Behold llw tears we bring to swell tho deluge,
Till the fl ood ri se 11pon the guilty world,
Aud mnko tb c ruin common,"
B EK ,JoKso:-..

.

Lady J a:w G1'ay, Act IV,

"To see this fl eet upon th e occnn move,
.Anrrc\s drew wide the curtains of t ho sk ies
And i:'eav en, ns if thcro wanted li gh ts abo ve,
For t apers made two ~lnring comet~ ri se, "
IJ1n-mrn.

_-{~

LESSON XLIII.
THE

: \

i

215

THE IlEAU'l'IFUL.

BEAUTIFUL.

§ 287. BEAUTY do es not afford the imagination so high ,.
degree of pleasure as sublimity; but, characterizing a grea _
variety of objects than th e latter quality, it is a more fr '
ful source of gratification to that faculty . ,The emotion.'
awakens is easily distinguishable from that of grandeur. ".:
is calmer and more gentle, and is calculated, not HO much -·
elevate the mind, as to produce in it an agreeable sereniftj;
Sublimity raises a feeling too violent to be las ting; ~th
pleasure arising from b eauty admits of longer continuance: ,
does hyperboli cal description d egenerate? What writers have fall en Into this ~-­
Give examples, and show wherein the bombast lies.
§ 287. Whic h nfflirds tho higher degree of pleasm o, beauty or snulirnity?

Few words in the langnnge nre applicable to ns wide a rnnge of objects-as beaut.y. It is use<l in connection with whatever pleases th o eye
-~ear; with many of the graces of writing; aml even w ith th e abstract
terms of science. ·we speak of a b eautiful t ree or flo wer ; a beautiful
Jm; a beaut iful charncter; ancl a b eautiful theorem in mathematics.

.c.•§ 288. Frcr1ue11t attempts have been made to discover in
~hat

the beautiful consists ; what quality it is, which all
bCautiful objects possess, and which is the foundation of the
rccable sensations they produce. Y ct no theory h:-is been
advanced on this subject which is not open to objection; and
ltwould, th erefore, seem as if t he various object:'1 so dcnomiated are beautiful, by virtue, not of any one pr inciple com·
· on to them all, but of several different qu alities. 'rhe
1ame agreeable emotion iH produced by them all, and they
~:, therefore designated by the common appellation beautiful; but this emotion seems to spring from sources radically
different .
j Of the theories here nllucled to, several are worthy of mention.
Tho
'principle of the b eautiful has b een macle to consist in,
··' I. Agreeableness. Experience, however, which is the great test of
tJieory, proves this hypoth esis false. All agreeable things are not beauiiful; nor do those whi ch have the one quality in the highest degree
possess the other in proportion. \Ve never speak of a beautiful taste or
abeantiful smell; but would certainly clo so if the heautiful and the
agreeable were synonymous. .As long as they can be separated and are
not commensurate with each other, they cannot be identical.
Utility. Here again, applying the test of experience,
find the
•theQry does not hold good. .A three-legged stool may _be very useful,
~t. is far from b eing generally r egarded as beautiful.
• .UII Unity and varicly. This has b een a favorite theory, ancl makes
Jeanty to consist in a variety of contrasting features so combined that
r
.,·

J n.·

we

tbe more frui tful source of grntiflcnt.ion? Why? Show tbe differ ence In the emotion~
~y 'respcctivcl y prod uce. To whnt is th o term beauty npplicable?
' § 288. What nttompts h ave been mn<lc by different writers? What ls said of the
1Vlous theori es a<lvnnced? What would seem to follow, with respect to the source of
6e beautiful ?
In what does th e llrst th ~orv m entioned mnke the b eautiful to consist? What ls the
test of theory? Wh at does experlenco prove with r espect to this hypothesis?
'llhow how this is proved. According to the second theory, in what does beauty con,. ? ;Show how th ls hypothesis does not nlwny s hold good. What has been a fovorlto

P-eat

216

THE BEAUTIFUL.

THE BEAUTIFUL.

unity of design characterizes tlie whole. Thus, in n beautiful flower,
there is a unity of proportion and symmetry, and at the same time 'a
diversity in the size and tints of the leaves. Even in mathematics, wh1{
is beautiful is not merely an abstract principle; it is a great trut~, ,
carrying with it a long train of consequences. Yet it is objccteil, an'
with justice, that many things please us as beautiful in which we ri.r" .
unable to detect any variety at all; and others, again, in which v~
riety is carried to such a degree of intricacy us to preclude the idea
unity.
.:
As, therefore, we can discover no common and universal source 0£ ·
beauty, we shall next consider the different qualities from which it pr~
ceeds in individual cases.

ot ·

§ 289. CoLorr is one of the chief elements of beautyl

though why it is so we can explain no further than by sayin~·
that the structure of the eye is such as to receive mor~
pleasure from some modifications of the rays of light than~
others. This organ, moreover, is so variously constituted1
that a color which is agreeable to one may excite no speciar
admiration in another. Still, we find there are some pee~•
liarities belonging to colors, which, in the estimation of alY
enhance their beauty.
I. They must not be dusky or muddy, but clear and fall\d

II. They must be delicate rather than strong.

Light straw·
color and mellow pink are generally considered mo!~
beautiful than deep and dazzling yellow and red.
III. If the colors are strong and vivid, they must be mingle
and contrasted with each other, the stren~th and gla~
of each being thus abated. 'rhis constitutes the cha~
of variegated flowers.
These various traits are found to characterize the beautiful colo'"
..•
which nature everywhere employs to render her works attractive, a
which art finds it extremely difficult to imitate. They will be re
nized in the blending shades with which she paints the feathers of bfr
theory with mnny? Ex~mplify it. What objection is justly made to it? What, the
fore, are we unable to discover?
§ 289. What is one ot' the chief element.'! of beauty? How for are we able to
plain this? '\Yhnt three peculiarities, In the general estimation, enhance tho beauty ':colors? In what nntnral objects do these peculiarities charncterize color? As In '

I

217

· ~ ?omplexion of ~looming youth, the floral creation, and the sunset sky.
., .~1~ ~ounds, .so m tho case of colors, there is little' doubt that the
1
, ~··~C1at10n of ideas often contributes to the pleasure received. Green,
r ,msta~ce, may appear more beautiful from being connected in our
ds with rural scenes; white, from its being the type of innocence.
'
blue, from its association with the serenity of the sky.

, § 290. FwurrE.-Regular :figures, or such as we perceive
~ ·be forme~ according .to fixed principles, are, as a general
.~le, beautiful. . Such is the character of circles, squares,
·~tfangles, an~ ellipses. The mind unconsciously connects with
1~ell-proport1oned forms the idea of practical adaptation to
'!l~e useful end. Regularity, however, does not involve the
~Ta of sameness, which would tire and disgust the eye; on
~~ contrary, variety is generally united with it in the most
· ractive works of nature.
,Gradual variation in the parts uniting to form a whole seems to be
.of the commones.t so~rce~ of natur~l beauty. There is generally a
~~s~ant. change of d1rect1on m the outlme; but it is so gradual that we
,. ,~it difficult to determine its beginning or end. Thus, in the form of
•.'dove, the head increases insensibly to the middle, whence it lessens
,, dually until it becomes blended with the· neck. The neck loses
#f i.n a larger swell'. whi?h ~ont.inues to the middl~ of''the body, whence
, er~ I~ a ~orrespondmg d1mmut10n towards the tail The tail takes a
».,ew d1rect10n ; but, soo~1 v~rying its course, blends with the parts .
.. ow: and thus the outlme 1s constantly changing.
Curves ~hange their direction at every point, and hence afford t.he
.,..,,_monest mstances of gradual variation. Circular figures, therefore,
~; ~enerally more beautiful than those bounded by straight lines.
ii!/ .1s a theory of Hogarth's, who makes beauty of figure consist chiefly
) he pr~ponderance of two curves, which he calls the line of beauty
1
~d the lme of grace. The former is a waving line, inclining alternate~ackwards and forwards, something like the letter rn . It is con-

:l

. . of sounds, what often contributes to the pleasure received from colors? Exemplify
• )n the case of green, white, and blue.
. S,290. What figures: as a general rule, are beautiful? What idea does the mind con. • •with well-proportioned forms? What does regularity not involve? On the con, In the works of nature, what is generally united with it? What Is said of th 0
e of the most attractive natural objects? Illustrate this In the case of the d
fi
I
~&
· gures a~e t ·~ m_ost beautiful? Why? In what does Hogarth make beauty
P Describe Ins hne of beauty. In what docs It constantly occur? Describ~
h's Une of grnce. In what is it exhibited?
· ·
·'

10

.

~

,,j

J

·\

\.'.,f
·I

'l

·I

,,i
\

,1

218

THE BEAUTIFUL.
·rnE DEAUTIFUL.

'

I

stantly occurring in shells, flowers, and other ornnm cntnl works ofi
nature, and enters largely into the decorations employed by paint~J.1
and sculptors. This curve twisted round a solid body, or having the.
same appearance as if it had b een so twisted, constitutes the line 'hf1
grace. The latter is exhibited familiarly in the cork-screw; also, iif 1
winding stair-case, and a lady's ringlet loosely curled.
<J;

§ 291. SMoOTIINEss.-Smootlmess is another quality es<
sential to beauty. 'Ve receive pleasuro from contemplating
the smooth leaves of flowers, smooth slopes of earth, smooth
streams in a landscape, smooth coats in birds an<l beasis,
smooth skins in our own species, an<l smooth and polished
surfaces in furniture. Give any beautiful object a broken an
rugged surface; and, however well it may he formed in oth~
l'espects, it pleases no longer.
Smoothness appeal s, not only to tho sight, but al so to the toU:'
The slightness of the resi stance mado to that part of the body with
which a smooth surface comes in contact., produces a pleasing emotio!li
though one of inferior degree.
d

§ 292. MonoN.-Other things being equal, bodies ·

' ,·,
I l

\

r~

1;

/:
I·
'
l

i

i

!

.I
I

Ii
I
I

,I

I

motion are more attractive than those at rest; and such ~ll
move in undulating lines please us in a higher degree th'aa
those that undeviatingly pursue the same direction. Thia
fact is readily accounted for by Hogarth's principle. Upward
motion, moreover, affords greater pleasure than that in '.
opposite direction. 'rhis, together with its waving charactez:
constitutes the beauty of curling smoke ; a feature whi
painters arc fond of introducing iuto their landst:apes.
Motion is an element of beauty, only when gcutlo in its charn9
·when very swift or forcible, it b ecomes sublime. The motion of a ·
gliding through the air, or of a placid brook, is beautiful; that of•
lightning as it darts from heaven, or a mighty river chafing against'
banks, partakes rather of sublimity.
§ 291. What oth er quality is essential to beauty ? In what natural objects~
founll? What results from giving nny beautiful obj ect n ru ggc<l surface ? To'
Ecnse besides sight does smoothness appeal? Show how it produ ces n pleasing om
through the touch.
· '" ,..·
§ 292. What imparts nu additional nttrnclion to bodies ? What kind of mo
the most beautiful? What feature am painters fond of introducing into Ian
In whnt docs its beauty con sist? In what case docs motion contribute to sub •
rath er than boauty?

.~·

! ,.._,

§.293.

Sr.tALLNESS

AND

DELICACY

219
A

, .strength are elements of th

bl'
.-. s vastness and
e su ime so small
d
·
(~~cy belong to the beautiful Th ~ '
.n:ss an deh·astonishmeu t and ad . t• .
e ormer qualities excite our
·• ·
•
• mira wn · tl 1 tt
. )ove. ·whatever we arc fo d' f i~ a er,. our s_Ympathy and
..with the idea of smallness n 1· ~ IS alssoc1.ated m our minds
"·
:i.encc tie cl · f
-;,every language to expres
er t'
rmmu ·Ives used in
' .
s a11ec wn and tend
S
1111t of robustness and strcn th I
erncss.
o, an
-·Ii
. .
g , 10wcver conduci
t th
me, Is rncompatible with the b
t'f 1
vc o c sub- 'pearance of delicacy is cssentia~au ~-uh To the latter an ap,t,o tl1e bor ders of fragility.
' w Ic may even be carried
• $1/•

. ., ~ It .is not the irnmcnse and mirrht ou .
.
t"'1 yh k of the fo1 e~t that we consider
·beautiful; but the delicate
·
' myr e, t e fragile viol t th
.J.Ile-not. F or the samo rcns<)ll ,.
e ' e modest forget.
w.., arc more })le d · h
grey-hound t.han th e burly mast' ff
·J • l
use wit the slender
. th, /ID th e stout carringe-horse TJ 'fill•
wit l the slight A b'
th ·
..
ra ian courser
0
.
.
·
ese
qualities to
h
. .b/ auty is nttnbutable.
' o, muc of woman's
:' ;f

§ 294. DESIGN.-Anothcr source of beaut i

.

~Jgn, as evidenced in the skilful comb. t' y s found m dei~ole, or the adaptation of means to an ~:~ wn of parts in a
~~IS enter into the beautiful that
h
. 8~ largely does

·1 d'

some ave considered . t ti
TI .
I
ie
h
11s causes our ple
W en we contemplate the w d f l
asure
~d see with what nicety ~t: e: u structure of the Land~
ti>:form a memb
' . any parts are adjusted,
-er unequalled rn strength fiex'b'l't
1 . 1 I y, an d
usefulness.
'
'

~a mg principle of the latter

·r The pleasure arisiug from the sense of 1 .
.
.
from that produced by th
.·
. . c esign is entirely distinct
'1
e vauous qualities described b
T
.
&Watch, we recognize beauty in the
t .
a ove.
lms, m
•I
.
ex enor by reason c'th
f h
co or, polish, smoothn ess, or rcg ularit of .J '
l
er o t e
y
s iape; but the pleasure pro-

.

. ., § 293. As regards size, what is essential to the benutifu
r
.
1 ? II hat feelmgs nre excited
1 vnstn ess nnd strength? What b .
"'·t .
• , J sma 11 ness and cl elicn i W'· .
""!', e with belove<! objects? What nr
unt 1rlca do we nsso. .
.
• cy ·
c '111nmut1ycs in c .
I
wh
• • at etl'cet has an air of robu stn ess and t
ti
\ cry anguage used to express?
1
woman's beauty attributable?
E reng
? lllustrnte t!Jis. To what is much

294. In whnt ls anoth er source of beaut found ?
the wond crfnl ~tr11ct11ro of ytl 1 I What causes our pleasure when
Ld' t'
IC inn< ?
In tho
f
mvw IS met emotions of pleasure are
I
I b
.
case o a wntch, show
pro1 ucc< y tho before-mention ed qualities and

J'! contemplate

220

'rHE llEAU'rIFUL.

duced by an examination of the intemal machinery arises entirely from
our consciousness of desigu, our npprecintion of the admirable skill wi\.11.
which so many complicated pieces arc united fo1· one useful purpose. 1 .f'
This element has an iuflncnce in the formation of many of our opi~;·
ions. It is the foundation of the beauty which wc discern in the prJ.
portions of <loors, arches, pillars, and the like. However fine the ornJ.
ments of a building may be, they lose most of their attractions, unlesi, either in appearance or reality, they conduce to some useful end.
This principle should be constantly borne in mind by the composer,
In a poem, n history, an oration, or any other literary work, unity of d&sign and an adjustment of the parts in one symmetrical whole, are ~
essential to effect as in architecture and other arts. The finest descripe
tions and most elegant figures lose all their beauty, or rather become_
actual deformities, unless connected with the subject, and consisten\
with the leading design of the writer. Let the object proposed be co~
stantly kept in view, and nothing foreign to it, however beautiful in i
self, be introduced to distract the attention.

§ 295. Such are some of the leading elements of beauty,' ·
possessed, in different measures, by the various creations o~
nature and art. Some objects combine them all, and thereHrlj
become attractive in the highest degree. Thus, in flowers ana
birds, we are entertained at once with color, regularity of for .''
unity in variety, smoothness, delicacy, and, at times, motio
Different sensat.ions are produced by each of these qualities
yet they blend in one general perception of beauty.
,r!
The most beautiful object that nature presents is a landscape, whi '
combines, in rich variety, luxuriant fields, picturesque trees, runni"
water, birds skimming the air, animals moving in the pasture, and h
man figures as the climax of the whole. The charms of the picture :
enhanced by the judicious introduction of the creations of art,-an ar<
ing bridge, a moss-covered cottage with graceful smoke ascending f
the chimney, a busy mill, an unpretending house of worship. A .t '
capable of appreciating such scenes is essential to success in poeti
description.
by th e sense of design. How does this element influence us In the formation ot
opinions? HO\\ docs this principle npply to literary compositions? What mus~
constantly kept ih view?
·
§ 295. Whnt objects nro attractive in tho highest degree? With whnt nre we on
tnin o<l in the cnse of flowers tuHl birds? Whnt is the most beimtifnl object thnt n '
prescnl5? What is ess!mtinl to success in poetical description?
"

GRACEFULNESS.

221

There is a moral beauty, as well as a moral subThe latter, we have seen, characterizes great and
.~e:orc acts,. self-devotion, fearlessness, and patriotism. The
.~o~al beautiful belongs to the gentler virtues, affability, gene~-t9s1ty, compassion, and the like. The emotion they excite re1@~mbles that produced by beautiful external objects.
•

.

'"
--~·~·-----

LESSON XLIV.
...Bf i

~,ACEFULNESS.-THE BEAUTIFUL IN THE HUMAN COUNTENANCE,
tf! j "

IN SOUND, AND IN WRITING.

~ ~ , § 297. GnACEFULNEss.-In the eifect it produces on the
~ Jnd, g~acefulness is analogous to beauty. This quality be~~gs cluefly to posture and motion. Grace requires that there
B?uld be no. a_Ppearance of difficulty i that the body should
, ~~. be kept r~g1dly erect, ?ut slightly bent, and that its parts
~?u.l~ be so disposed as neither to embarrass each other, nor to
~, divided by.sharp and sudden angles. In this roundness of
. a~e and delicacy of attitude, resides a charm which must be
~pous .to all who consider attentively the Venus de Medici,
.
.e .A.ntmous, or any other great statue.

, :, § 298.

THE BEAUTIFUL IN THE HUMAN CouNTENANCE.-

~e .b eauty of t~e human countenance is n\ore complicated
~; that belongmg to most natural objects. It depends at
.~~ on colo~·, or com~lcxion; on figure, or outline; and on
.,ty of design, that is, the adaptation of its various parts
,rthe purposes for which they were formed. The chief

men~t

. l29:; What Is
_by moral beauty? Wherein consists the difference beabnld moral sublumty? What cloes tlie emotion proclucecl by the moral beau
,esem e?

f 297.

What, In Its effect, is anal ogous to beauty. To what chiefly does
f
1
grace u .l>elong? W!Jnt cloes it require? In what statues is it exhibited? '
l298.b~Iow cloes tho hennty of the humnn conntonnnco compare with that of most
O ~ects? On what cloos It depend? In whnt docs !ta chief beauty lie? What

222

'l'HE BEAUTIFUL IN WRITING.

'£HE BEAUTIFUL IN SOUND.

beauty of the countenance, however, lies in what is called its';
expression, or the idea which it conveys respecting the qualitiesri
of the mind. If good-humor, intelligence, frankn ess, bcnevo:'' lence, or any other amiable quality, is indicated, the beauty of the
face is heightened even more than by faultlessness of feature.•
It is difficult to explain how certain conformations of feature give us
the impression of certain peculiarities of mind and disposition. Perhaps
both instinct and experience have a share in producing this connection.
Some regard the relation s subsisting between the two ns exceedingly in·
timate. The celebrated physiognomist Campanella, who made-extensive
observations on human faces and was "'\VOnderfully expert in imitating"!" ·
such as were in any way remarkable, held that it was impossible for(
one even temporarily assuming a part.icular expression, to avoid, for the,
time hi~ countenananc~ was so chang~d, the me~tal dis~osition con~ectedj
therewith. W"l1en desirous of becomrng acq namted w1Lh a persons feelings, he imitated his ·expression, his carriage, and all his other pcculiari:i
ties of face and body, as nearly as possible, and the1t carefully observedJ ·
what turn of mind he seemed to acquire by the change; thus, hot
claimed, he could enter into any one's thoughts ns effectually as if h_~,
were converted into th e man himself.

ti·

§ 299. T1rn BEAUTIFUL

SouNn.-Beauty, as well as sub·
limity, extends to the objects of hearing equally with those ofl
sight. It belongs, in a high degree, to that composition of dif:·
ferent sounds which we call Musrc, the principles of which are ·
so various and complex as to constitute an independent sc~,:.,.
ence.
IN

Musical compositions that combine grand and magnificent sounds,
that are remarkable for loudnees, stren~th , and quic~;: tr~n~itio~s, pro~f
erly belong to the sublime. :Most music, however, 1s <l1strngmshed bY.:
sweetness, and is, therefore, simply beautiful. :Milton, in his L'Allegro,
happily describes airs of this character. It will b e observed how pe ·
fectly the passage is in keeping with the subject, h ow easy and flowi.11~
heightens the beauty of the countenance even m ore thnn faultlessness of feature-r
What, perhaps, combine to give us pleasure from certain confurmntions of featnreJ
Wh nt wns Campau cllti? ·what did h o bolu with regard to tho coun tennuce? By wh
process did h e clafVi th nt he could enter into n. person's thought.'! ?
· '..
§ 2\19. To what 'besides obj ects of sight docs beauty extend? To whnt does it
long in n high degree? Wliat musicnl compositions properly belong to the subllniot
Hy what, however, is most music distingnishetl? R epent th o lin es In which Mil~
describes nirs of this character. By what are these lin es tliemscl\"cs characterized f1 .

223

the measure, and how pleasing the harmony of the words, both as taken
M combined together.
We should vainly seek for a
~~re strikiug example of the beautiful iu writing.
i~dividually and

" And ever, ngainst enting cnres,
Lap me in soft Lydian nira;
In notes with many a winding bont
Of linked sweetness long drawn ont;
With wanton he:id and giddy conning,
The melting vol cu through mazes running~
Untwisting all the chains that tie
Tho hidden soul of harmony."

· "" Of simple sounds, those fall under the head of the beautiful that are characterized by sweetness, softness, and delicacy.
Much hero, also, is due to association. The notes of beautiful
' ~eimals arc, by reason of a connection. of ideas, themselves
: ~~autiful. This is the chief reason why we find so . much to
l!o~mire in the warbling of birds. The minuteness and delieacy of their forms, their modes of life, and the domestic at- _
tachments subsisting between them, render them objects of
Special interest and tenderness on the part of the human family_; and heucc, their notes, intuitively connected in our minds
.. ~~th .the objects from which they proceed, awaken a strong
. emotion of beauty.

~ Superstitious fe elings sometimes impart effect to sounds which would
1

otherwise be for from awaking any special ·admiration. To most peraons the cry of the stork is hardly tolerable; but, for the Hollander,
~th whom this bird is the object of a popular and pleasing superstition,
It;,possesses a singular charm.
j Tl~ose sotrnds of the human voice are generally accounted most beau' ,ill which are low nnd grave, and gradually increase in volume.

,, . § 300. Tirn BEAUTIFUL IN W RITING.-The term beauty, as
applied to writing, is often used with but little definite meaning. When we speak of n. beautiful sonnet letter or oration
l\ve mean simply one that is well composed ;' that is' agreeable,'
·~
a Whnt simple sounds fall un1\er the head of the beautiful? To what ls much of the
pl~ure received from th em due? Why do we admire the warbling of birds? What feelfligs sometim~s impnrt effect to sounds? How docs the cry of the stork affect most per·
lqnS1 How, the Hollander? ·w1iy? "What sonnds of the human voice are accounted
aiil&t beautiful?
I 800. As gener~ll~ appli ed to writing, what does the term beauty signify? Properly
~ing, to what ts it applied? Show how it differs from sublimity of style. How

224

THE BEAUTIFUL IN WRITING.

WIT.

either by reason of the sentiment it embodies, or t.he style in~
which it is expressed. But, properly speaking, this term has• .
a more limited signification ; being applied, not to what is im- 1
passioned, sparkling, vehement, or elevated, but to all that · ~
1·Jises in the reader a gentle, placiu emotion, similar to that i
produced by the contemplation of beauty in natural objects.
The beautiful in writing is not confined to descriptions of attractivo
external objects, but extends to all su~j e cts except those of an abstract or elevated character. It docs not, like sublimity, exclude or·
nament, or require plainness of words ; nor is it necessarily confined to
occasional passages. It may characterize an author's style throughout;
Among the ancients, Virgil is us much distin g uished for the beauty of
his periods as Homer is for the sublimity of his conceptions. So, Cicero'~.
orations have more of the beautiful than the sublime; in this latter ,
quality they are surpasscu by those of Demosthenes. Among modern~-Fenelon and J,:imartine in French. Addison in English, and Irving ia'
American, literature, possess those Yarious grac es of composition whic,h-iJll5~
constitute the bcautifnl.
"-'

225

It stnrte? back but pleased I soon returned
Pleased it returned as soon with answering looks
O~ sympathy and love. There I had fixed
Mme eyes till .now and pined with vain desire
Had not a vowe thus wa.med me What thou seest
·w~at ther~ thou seest fan· creature is thyself
With th~e it ~ame and goes but follow me
And I w~ll brrng thee where no shadow stays
Thy co1!1mg and thy soft embraces he
·whose image thou art. *
*
*
*
* What could I do
~.ut follo;v straight invisibly thus led~
'lill I csprnd thee fair indeed and tall
Under .n p_latane yet methought leas fair
Less wmmng soft less amiably mild
Than that si:nooth. watery image. Back I turned
'Ilrnu ful!owrng cr1edst aloud Heturn fair Eve
1V,hom flies_t thou~ Whom thou fliest of him thou art
His flesh 111~ bone to give thee being I lent
Out of my s1~e to thee nearest my heart
Substantial life .to ~i~ve thee by my side
Henceforth a11 rnd1n rlu nl rnln ce d('ar.
Part of my soul I Reek thee and thee claim
~f.y oth e1: lialf. ·w ith that thy g entle hand
Seized mme I yielded."

EXERCISE.
I

As an example of the beautiful in writing, Eve's accou~
of her first consciousness of existence and her introduction to
Adam is quoted from Milton. Let the student point out its
successive beauties, and, as an exercise m punctuation, SUP:
ply the omitted po in ts.
"That day I oft remember when from sleep
I first awaked and found myself reposed
Under a shade on flowers much wondering where
And what I was whence thither brought and how.
Not distant far from thence a murmuring sound
Of waters issued from a cave and spread
Into a liquid plain then stood unmoved
Pure as the expanse of heaven I thither went
. With unexperienced t110ught and laid me down
On the green bank to look into the clear
Smooth lake that to me seemed another sky.
As I bent down to look just opposite
A shape within the watery gleam appeared
Bending to look on me. I started back
do Virgil nnd Horner compare, as regards beauty and sublimity? How, Cicero
Demosthenes? What modern writers possess those graces of composition which_
stituto tho hcnutiful?

..

__

- . . ..._

LESSON XLV.
WIT.

, § 301. SuBL~nIITY and beauty are not the only sources of

the·dpleasure
·d·

derived from literary compositions Wi't h
.
·
, umor,
r1 wule, when mtroduced judiciously, have an agreeable
ect, and must next be considered

·;§302'. W1.T is that

quality of. thoughts and expressions

hich ex?1tes m the min_d an agreeable surprise, not by means
. any thmg marvellous m the subject, but merely by employ-

:: ·

·--~

226

-WIT.

WIT.

ing a peculiar imagery, or presenting in a novel and
relation ideas remotely connected.
§ 303. This agreeable surprise is excited in four ways =~

··

I. By degrading elevated things.
II. By aggrandizing insignificant things.
III. By representing objects in an unusual light by means of .
singular imagery.
IV. By paronomasia, or play upon words.
§ 304. Of wit consisting in the degrading of elevated sub·
jects, Butler furnishes many 8pecimeus in lludibras. From
these we select the following lines, descriptive of early dawn;
in which the low metaphorical style of the first couplet and
the singular simile used in the second, constitute the witty
points:-

" 'Twas a strange wild deed l but a wilder wisb.
Of the parted soul, to lie
'111iclst the troubled numbers of living men,
Who would pass him idly by I
"So I snld, 'Old man, for wilom digg'st thou this grave,
In the heart of London town?'
And the deep-toned voice of the digger replied:'·we're laying a gas-pipe down I'"

.,~ § 305. 1'he second species of wit is the converse of that
< just illustrated, ancl is often denominated burlesque. Its ob·

-~;l Pope's writings abound in this kind of pleasantry. In the following
~xtract from the "Rape of the Lock," he represents a lady's toilet under
the a~legory of a solemn religiOus ceremony. The belle herself figures

Another. example follows, in which the comparison
blast and the angry thunder to trivial objects produces
question.

as ~r10ste~s of the i:iystcries, assisted in her sacred office by the dressingnuud, wlule her minored image is the divinity whose rites are thus
· .celebrated.

"I love to henr the silrieking wind,
Mngnificently wild!Like the melodious music of
A bastinadoed child.

'!!

" 'Old man I old man l for whom dlgg'st thou this grave f •
I asked, as I walked along;
For I saw, In the heart of London streets,
A dark and busy throng.

'" ' ject being to give a mock importance to trivial things it affects
\
'
· pompous and sonorous language, just as the first species
admits of the lowest and most vulgar.

"And now !Jncl Phrebus in the lnp
Of Thetis taken out his nnp:
And, like a lobster boiled, the morn
From black to reel began to turn."

" I love to hear the thunder burst,
O'er woodland, plain, nnd hill;Like the loud note of angry swine,
Petitioning for swlH."

.character. Of a similar nature are compositions which maintain a
seri~us tone t!1roughout, until at the close some unexpected allusion,sentiment, or image, is introduced, which entirely changes the tenor of
the piece. The following will serve as a specimen:-

"And now unveiled, tl·e toilet stands displayed,
Each silver vase in mystic order laid.
First, robed In white, the nymph intent adores,
'Vith bead uncovered, the cosmetic powers.
A he11venly image In the glass appears,
To that she bends, to that her eyes she rears.
The inferior priestess at her altar's side,
Trembling, begins the sacred rites of pride;
Unnumbered treasures ope at once, and here
The various offerings of the world appear;
From each she nicely culls with curious toil,
And decks the goddess with the glittering spoil."

. ,-r

The object being to surprise the mind with an unexpected depreci&.~
tion of what is by nature serious or grand, homely expressions, vulgnt
idioms, and cant phruses, are often the sourcu of this i::pccies of wit. "ft
To this division of the subject belong parodies and travesties, or .
writings in which serious productions by occasional alterations of wor!1'
:ire made applicable to other subjects, particularly those of a ludicro~
§ 303. In what fonr ways is this agreeable surprise excited?
§ 304. Who furnishes many specimens of the first species of wit? H0peat the llnel ·'
in which he describes tile early dawn. What constitute the witty points? In the l!eO't
untl example quoted, what produces the effect in question? What nre often the so~
of this species of wit? What belong to this division of tho subject? What is m~f

~parodies?

What other compositions are of a slmilnr nature?

Give the substanro

V the piece quotc<l, and show wherein the wit consists.

s·so5.

_What is th e second Epecies of wit often denominated?

What !~ ~ts object,

,ud what does It nffed? Whose writings nbound iu this kind of pleasantry? What
the subject of the pa.•sage quoted?

'

st:lthewit?

How docs the author represent it? Wheroln
··

228

229

WIT.

WIT.

Under this head foll the applications of grave reflections to frivolot11
subjects, as in the following lines from Phillips:,
·l

'A second variety consists in nrtfully confounding the liternl and fig/Ul'ative sense of nn expression. In this way, what at first sight presents
specious appearance is presently seen to be absurd; as in the following lines from Hudibras : -

a

"My galligasklns, tbat ham long withstood
Tbe winter's fury and encroaching frosts,
By time subdu ed (what will not time subdue I),
An horrid chasm disclose."

Analogous to this is the connection of small things with great, where-·
· by they are represented ns of equal importance. Pope furnishes many ,
passages in point.
"Tbe.n flashed the 11 vld lightning from her eyes,
And screams of horror rend the alfrighted skies.
Not louder shrieks to pitying heaven aro cast,
When husbands, or when lnp-dogs, breathe their last I
Or when rich china vessels, fall en from high,
In glittering dust and painted fragments lie I"
"Not youthful kings in battle seized alive,
Not scornful virgins wbo th ei r charms survive,
Not ardent lovers robbed of alt their bliss,
Not ancient ladies when refused a kiss,
Not tyrants fierce that nnrepenting t:llo,
Not Cynthia when her manteau's pinned nwry,E'er felt such rage, resentment, and despair,
As thou, sad virgin I for thy ravished hair."

" While thus they talked, the knight
Turned tbfl outside of his eyes to white,
As men of lnw1ml light are wont
To turn their optics in upon 't."

. · The eye is naturally turned to light, and hence the closing line at
first seems reasonable; but when we reflect that it is the metaphorical
llght of knowledge to which reference is here made, the absurdity
,becomes manifest.
~~ A third variety attributes corporeal or personal attributes to what
ia incapable, by its very nature, of possessing them. Thus, in the following passage, grace, or beauty, and virtue, are represented as so nearly
_related to each other that a marriage between them (that is, their union
in the same person) would be unlawful:1

"What makes morality a crime
The most notorious of the time;
Morality, which both the saints
And wicket:l too cry out against?
'Gause grace and virtue are within
Prohibited degrees of kin:
And therefore no truo saint allows
They shall be suffered to espouse."

§ 306. Of the third species of wit, which surprises
mind with the singularity of the images it employs, there are . .
:r:nany varieties, of which a few specimens may be presented.-:,·:<:
The first consists in connecting things between which there is an•;
apparent contrariety. Thus, Roger de Coverley, in the Spectator, saya
that he would have given his widow 'a coal-pit to have kept her i~
clean linen; and that her fingers should have sparkled with one bun.;
dred of his richest acres.' So, Garth, in the following lines, compares.
the dropsy to a miser, and produces an agreeable surprise in the mind,r;;
by representing it as poor in the midst of opulence, and thirsty though
drenched with water:" Then Ilydrops next a.pp ears among the throng;
Bloated aml big, she slowly sails along:
But liken miser in excoss she's poor,
And pines for thirst amid hor watery store."
What else fall under this head? Give an example, and show where the wit lies.
what other way is a similar effect produced? In the passages quoted from Pope, sho
what constitutes tho wit.
§ 306. With what does the third species of wit surprise tbe mind? In what d«*
the first variety consist? How is this exemplified in tho Spectator? To what doel
Garth compare the dropsy? How does he produce an agreeable surprise in the mlndf
.

I
I

, A fourth variety consists in attributing to a person as a virtue what
_la merely a necessity ; as in the following:{"The advantage of the medical profession is that the dead are distinguished by wonderful charity and discretion; we never bear them
eomplain of the physic that has killed them."
·; There are many other phases in which this species of wit is displayed.
We shall content ourselves with mentioning but one more; that in which
,P:~mises are introduced that promise much but perform nothing; as in
· the following : . t' Beatrice. - - With a good leg and a good foot, uncle, and money
enough in his purse, such a man would win any woman in the world, if
he could get her good-will.
·
·;
Much Ado about Nothing, Act IL, Sc. L
~ Beatrice. I have a good eye, uncle, I can see a church by dayJight.-Jbid.
ID what does the srcond variety of this kind of wit consist?

Illustrate it from Htidl·

1'v, and show the point. Describe the third variety. Give the substance of the quo~on

from lludibrns which Illustrates it. In what does the fourth variety consist?
It. Describe the fifth variety. I~lustrate it.

~]18trate

230

WIT.

HUMOR AND RIDICULE.

§ 307. The last species of wit is
jeu de mots, and what we recognize in English as the pun, o
a play upon words. Though regarded as the lowest kind of
wit, yet there are few to whom it is not, at times, a source of
amusement. In tracing its history, we find that it has bee~ .
a f(!.vorite entertainment with all nations in a certain stage of
their progress towards refinement of taste and manners, and
has ~fterwards gradually, though invariably, fallen into disre; ·
pute. Thus, in England, <luring the reigns of Elizabeth an4
Jam es I., it was regarded as one of the chief graces of writing,
and as such entered, not only into the works of Shakspear~
and other great dramatists, but also into the sermons and
moral essays of grave divines.
As soon as a language is formed i11to a svstcm, and the meaning of
words is ascertained ,; ith tolerable aceura~y, oppoi;tunity is afforded
for expressions, which, by the double meaning of certain words, in reality· .
have an entirely different meaning from what at first sight they seem to
have ; and the penetration of the r eader or h earer is gratified by de1
teeting the true sense in spite of its dieguise. But, in process of time;
the language becomes matured; the meaning of its words is more stric~
ly defined; those capable of a doubl e application, ha Ying been once-'
used in this way, lose their efTcct for the future, inasmuch as withon\
novelty they can excite no surprise or pleasure in the mind: and thu!
the pun falls in the estimation of the tasteful and judicious.
·{..
Novelty, as just remarked, is essential to ihc e!Tcct of a pun; ~
indeed, it is to all kinds of wit. Nothing is more t.asteless, we may
most say disgusting, than a joke that has become stale through frequen£,
repetition. Any appearance of study or premeditation also detrac~
from the effect of a pun; and hence, what appears excellent ·when.
thrown out extemporaneously in conversation, may be intolerable wh~ll
put in print.
Examples of paronomasia, or a play upon words, are so commo11
that only a few specimens are here necessary for the illustration of tht
subject. The word in whose double mca11i11g the point li es, is in italics.

at

§ 307. What is the Inst speci es of wit h ero prerentcd, cnllcd by the French?
do we call it in English? How is it regarded ? In tracing its hi&tory, what do we find
At what tim e was it much esteemed in Englnnrl ? Into wh ose writings did It la
enter? At what period of th e history of a language is nn opportunity afforded '
e1Tccth·c puns ? Wh at tnkes pla ce in process of tim e ? ·wh nt is essential to the e111 '
of a pun? Expl ain how a pnn mny nppenr ex cellent \\·hen extemporaneously t~roft

w~· may add that conundrums, rebuses, and riddles in

231

!

I

Ii
f;

general, are em-

. braced in this class of witticisms.

"Th ey say thine eyes, like sunny skies,
Thy chief attraction form;
I see no sunshine In those eyes,Tbey take one all by storm."

)\

i{1'1
f. :

"Here thou, grcnt Anna I whom three realms obey,
D ost sometimes coansel take-and sometimes tea."

r

"Priuco Eugene is a great taker of snuff 115 well as of towns."
EI'ITAPII ON A SCOLDING WIFE.

"Ilencath this stone my wife doth lie;
She's now at 1·est, and so am I."

l

EPIGRAM ON A SHREW.

"They tell me that your brow Is fair,
And unsurpassed by non e ;
To mo tho causo is very clearY ou b1·01.o-beat every one."

, Sometime~ tl~e wit o~ the pun consists, not in the double meaning of
jWord, but m its having the same sound as some other word with
.~ich i.t is brought into ju.xt~-p~sition for the purpose of tempo~arily
J!Usleading the hearer. Tlus rs illustrated at the beginning and close
PL the following Baker's .Advertisement:-" The subscriber, knowllJg ~hat all men n eed bread, wi shes the public to know that he also
adJ it. Ile is desirous of feeding all who are hungry, and hopes his
f?od works may be in tlw moutli of every one. He is well-disposed
wards all men ; nnd the best bred people among us will find him, he
~opes, one of the best bread-men in the city."

LESSON XLVI.
AND

!'.

'

l

f

t.

,,l:
~·

t

----·--HUMOR

,
f

RIDICULE

·· § 308. II UMon. consists, for the most part, in a representa'on of imaginary, short-lived, or over-strained emotions

'

yet very poor when subseqnently relate<l. What Is tho technical name of tho pun?
lit else are embraced In this class of witticisms?
In what docs the wit of th o pnn sometimes consist? Give nn example.
I 808. In whnt does hnm or consist? Unrkr whnt bend do representations of roal

HUMOR AND RIDICULE.

HUMOR AND RIDICULE.

232

which display themselves preposterously, or
derision rather than sympathy.

.
.
lisplay of which t 1iere is n?
Representations of real e111ot1~1~,l l~n;:r\he head of the pathetic,, ~
violation of taste or good sense, a .
osed These two kinds Ot
tly the Jnunorous is opp
·
"\
which, consequen :
d . _ff t by being presented iu contrast;
writing are much he1ghtcne. m eft ec . ·1 themselves. This constitutes
f which writers of fiction o en a'\'aI
f ac t o
·rr11
the chief charm of Dickens' nove1s. th'
309 The subject of humor is character: n~t every 1·m·
§
.
f lt
. es . but its pecu iarf
.
h . cter . not its graver au s or v1c ,
.
.
m c ara
'
nxietics Jealous1e
ties, its foibles, caprices, extravagances,
-it~ affectation
childish fondness es, and weaknesses goner y,
. '·
·

I

.

.

ti

.:11"

vanity' and self-conce~\ t for the humorous finds the greatest sc~P,!
One who p~ssessc~ a a enT , tories or acting a whimsical part.f!
for its display m telling fam1 m1 s . .
g of minute 11eculia.rities
.
h
h cter Even the mumc m
an assume d c ara . .
. l f lts 111
. discourse is admissible m t •
· t"
grammat1ca au
'
f th
pronunc1a. wn, or .
'
ob· ect is to expose the wea.k points o . J
humorous productwn. The ~
ft
b est set forth bf
individual under description; ~nd tE.hese arc ·onc~~ng if not immod
. g i'nto the minutest details. <vcn ove1'
~ :.i
ent erm
.
h · t
'
rate contributes to the entertamment oft e pie ure.
. ·j ;. ,
H
. not like wit sudden and short-hveu,.&
,
'
. h
1 t
§ 310. . umor1s
'11 .
h' h flashes forth and is t en os . ~
b illiant scmt1 at10n, w ic
'
.
It often extends through en tire prod u_ct10ns i a~
r
.t
ob scun Y·
- ·
·
cral Buo~
indeed, forms the staple of comic wntmg rn gen
.
•

k'

in ham justly says of comedy,

g

"Humor is nil. Wit should be only brought
To turn agreeably some proper tbonght."

to humor.
Nove.lty ' moreover, is not essential
b .
t' ome .

fulness to nature prevents it from emg ll'CS
,
dures readings and re-readings, which would malte
absolutely disgusting.
ti
fall? Of wlmt fact do writers of fiction often avail themselves?
.
emo on
b" f 1
?
,.
works does this constitute. the c ie c ia~m I what does a talent for the bumoroua
§ 309. What is the subJeCt of humor.
eak points of an individual often .
the best field for its display? How nre. e w
1- . •
w ·h t · t1 effect of over-actrng?
.
exposed?
a IS le
<th
;·it
in
duration?
Of
w!Jat
does
It
fOf!ll
1
§ 310. How does lrnmo~ compare"
.'
c mcdy? ·what prevents h,
te.ple ? What does Buckingham say of its use 1n o
. .6
\
.
t
from being tiresome?
'

t:

233

·fr ·§ 311. In every literature, humor has been employed, to a
greater or less extent, in the lighter departments of composi\[on, as a means of pleasiug. Cervantes, perhaps, in his Dou
~uixote, has carried it to a greater degree of perfection than
lf!Y other writer. Into JDngli:,;h literature, particularly its dra;.matic compositions, it enters largely. Shakspeare, Gay, Far. quhar, and others, have used it with great effect.
l It is to be r egretted that English comedy has not confined itself to
pure and legitimate humor. To the discredit of our stage, obscenit.y
.. !ti~ ribaldry are too often allowed to take its place. This can hardly
jji ..attributed to a lack of natural refinement. The cause seems rather
JO be that the first great master-pi eces in this department of literature,
Written in a licentiou~ age, were stained with gross indelicacy, which
"bsequent authors, with this precedent before them, deemed it neces1" to imitate.
·with obscenity, humor has nothing in common.

·, § 312.

The aim of humor is simply to raise a laugh. When
ere is an ulterior object,-that is, when it is sought by means
. this laugh to influence the opinions and purpo::;es of the
-~arer or rcad er,-then humor becomes RIDICULE. In thi s case,
t keener contempt of the weakness under review must be
wakened than in the case of humor.
Ridicule is to argumentative composition what the reductio ad absur-

~ is to a mathematical demonstration,-a negative, yet satisfactory,

way of arriving at the object proposed. It may be effectively applied
lo whatever is absurd, and, in a measure, also, to what is fal se. When
IOber argument would be too dignified and formidable a weapon to emy, ridicule may with propriety ta.kc its place. To a certain extent,
same foibl es feel its lash as are open to the more genial attacks of
or. It gocd, however, a step further; adding to the former cate1 ignorance, cowardice, profliga.cy, anil dishonesty.
Great crimes
beyond its sphere. To raise a laugh at cruelty, perfidy, or murder,
d be intolerable.

Jpn.

In what depnrtmrnts of literature Is humor extensively employed? Who
it to tho greatest perfection? Wu at is said of English comedy? What
to be the cause of this?
1812. What is the aim of humor? When does humor bceomo 1·ldicule? What
IB In this caso awakened? To what is the relation between ridicule and arguve composition compared? To what may ridicule be applied? When may It
propriety tnko tho plnco of argument? Whnt aro beyond Its sphere, and why?
earrl~d

234

HUllIOR AND lllDICULE.

_FIGURES OF OR'l'HOORAPHY

§ 313. The attack of ridicule is, from its very nature, a

EXERCISE.

The first extract given below illustrates humor; the seco
ridicule. Let the student point out their distinguishing 1fi'
tures ; and, as an exercise in punctuation, let him supply s ·
points as are omitted.

\

I

And lrclp oh help her spirits are so de d

ere a stubborn pin it triumphs o'er ' .
fhe pants she sinks away and is no m .
?t t!re robust and the gigantic carve oie.
1
1

~~~~ta ~R~1~t
~~Z ~~=~ 1:~ce1/:~·~r~~Y !a~!tarve
osahnda can't by proxy eat y
·-

"h

OtTNG.

'l'UE PROFOUND WRITER.

,, y these methods in a few week tl
.
le .of managing the profoundest !ndere starts .UP many a writer ca·~: thoul;\"h his head be empty provid :J1~s.t umversal subjects For

,iAnd If you will bate him but
e . Is common-place book be
e·and grammar and invention II thel _?Ircumstances of method and
scri"b·mg f1·om others and digre
a ow · umf but th. e· common pnvrleges
· .
.see occasion he will desire no mo ssI!lg roi;n lumself aR often as he
" e that sliall make a ver com r~ mgred1ents towards fitting up a
,to be preserved neat andyclea ez figure on a bookseller's shelf
"~eraldry of its title fairly inscrtb~d or a 1J°1bg eternity adorned with
greased by students nor bound to eveof af a el never to be thumbed
but when the fullness oft•
. r as mg chains of darkness in a
ofp
t
.
,
ime is come shall h
·1
d
' urga ·ory m order to ascend ti k
app1 y un ergo the

·

Yt.

IC S y.--SWIFT.

--···· --

TI-IE LANGUID LADY.

J_,ESSON XLVII.

\Vlw w ao uuL Lorn Lo eany h cl' ow 11 weight
She ]Plls r eels sb!!gers till some foreign aid

§ 313. What is the charnctor of tho attack of ridicule? How must tho
which it is the medium be carried on? Sometimes, whnt does tho railer :
<laing? What does he take care, bowever, that the hearer or reader sh What uame is given to this species of ridicule? What is saicl of its efti
the quoted specimen of ir1mioal ritlicuic.

,(

,/

fl~~ hand scarce lifts the other to her ~ea<l

"The languid lady next appears in state
To her own statu~·e lifts the feeble m~id.
Then if ordained to so severe a doom
She by just stages journeys round the room
But knowing her own weakness she despairs
To scale the Alps that is ascend the stairs
My fan let others say who laugh at toil
Fan hood glove scarf is her laconic style
And that is spoke with such a dying fall
That Betty rather sees than hears the call
The motion of her lips and meaning eye
Piece out the idea her faint words deny.

;•'•

2ilfl

Rher.li~t?n
:Vith attention most profound
'orce is but the shadow of a sound.

covert one. vVhat we profess to contemn, we scorn to confut _Hence, the reasoning of which ridicule is the medium must be
carried on under a species of disguise. Sometimes the con·
tempt itself is dissembled, and the railer assumes an air of ar~
guing gravely in defence of what he is exposing as ridiculous.
He affects to be in earnest; but takes care to employ so thip.
a veil that one can easily see through it and discern his real
intent. Such a course of reasoning is known as irony, and )!
often constitutes the most effective way of dealing with foll
and falsity.
·· 1~ ·
We have a brief specimen of ironical ridicule in Elijah's addre~
the priests of Baal, who were·cndeavoring by sacrifices and praye~;
draw a manifestation of power from their false god:-" Cry aloud! '
he is a god: either he is talking, or he is pursuing, or he is in ajour~
or peradventure he sleepeth, and must be awakened."
, ~

' ETYMOLOGY, AND SYNTAX.

OF Oit Tli OG ll,U' tff, ETYM OLOGY, AND SYNTAX.

81'4,':
FwunEs are m
· t en t'iona l d eviations
. .
1
from th

d.
• ' ~?rm, eonstructio_n, or application of words e ~~ mary
m four class . fi
·
ey are
es' gures of orthogranhy fi .
f
. ~ -"-,
. ogy, figures of syntax
cl ii
. . ' gu1 es o
"lib! . b
' an gures of rhetoric Th I
, e m oth prose and poetr tl
.
oug I
:Iii&:
Iatt
y,
.
iey
occur
more
frequent. - er.
5•. Figures of 01· tho~
l.
•
·"'1~· •
o 1• apuy
are mtentional
d . .
. . +~~dmary spelling of words
ev1at10ns
•:.... / .
· They are two in num.
~~-sis and Ari-cha-ism.
,.....
~

Into wh11t classes nro thoy divided f

In what do they

./

~

.·

236
!

FIGURES OF SYNTAX.

FIGURES OF OilTHOGilAPIIY AND E'rYMOLOGY.

237

I

JJfimesis consists in imitating the mispronunciation
word, by means of false spelling; as, "·well, zur, I'll argif
the topic."
.
.
Archaism, consists in spelling a word accordmg to ancien ·
usage· as "The grct Kyng hathe, every day, fifty fair Dartl!JP
'
'JWaycl enes , that serven hun
· everenwrc at h"is Mt"
seles alle
e e.
31 G. Figures of etymology are intentional deviat~ons
from the ordinary forms of words. Those most used arc e1gh
1
in number; A-ph::crt-c-sis, Pros 1-the-sis, Syn 1-co-pc, A-poc -o·pe-;,
1
Par-a-got-ge, Di-::crt-e-sis, Syn-::cr 1-e-sis, and Tme -sis.
·~
Aphmresis is the elision of a letter or letters from the b .
ginning of a word : as, 'bove, for above; 'neath, for beneath.',
Prosthesis is the prefixing of a letter or letters to a wor~1I
as, ridnn·n, for rlnwn; hccleckecl, for decked.
·; ·
. Syncope is the elision of a letter or letters from the mid~~
of a word: as) e'en, for even ; ha'penny, for halfpenny.
Apocopc is the eli sion of a letter or letters at the end of &
word: as, th', for the ; tho', for though.
Paragoge is the annexing of a letter or letters to a wor~
as, vasty, for vast; withouten, for without.
~
Diaresis is the separation into different syllables of two
contiguous vowels that might unite in a diphthong. This figure is usually indicated by placing two dots over the last of th
separated vowels.
'rhus, aeronaut, instead of mronau~

§

cooperate, for cooperat e.
.
.
Synmres·is is the condensing of two syllables rnto one: t
walk,'st, for walkest; hallowed, for hallow-ed.
~
It was formerly customary to make the participial termination
a separate syllable; as, lov-ecl, clrown-cd. This practice. is .still adh~
to by some in solemn discourse; but, in common pronuncrnt10n, Synrer,.

l

i

(

I
l

1

§ 315. What nre fi gures of orlhogrnpby? Name them. In what docs Mimesis~
sist? In what, Archaism?
. •r
§ 316. What are figures of etymology? Mention tho p~incipnl ones, observing,_
nn ncnte ncccnt in each cnse denotes the syllable thnt rnce1vca tho stress of tbe v
D efi ne them In turn, and give examples of each. In tho en.so of Aphroresis and .
figur es that consist in elisions, what mark must bo employed? How Is Diroresls .
cntod? Whnt termination wns formerly made a scparnto syllnblo? What Is tbo
tlco at tho present day?

m\lorporates the final ed with the preceding syllable, whenever this is
,~tJmpossible by reason of the nature of the letters.

. . 1'me~is is the separating of the parts of a compound by
111troducmg a word or words between them: as, what way
· ~~ver he turned ; to us ward.
11
~~ § 317. Figures of syntax are intentional deviations from
the r.ordinary construction of words. Those m~st in use arc
fiY,lt; in number; El-lip 1-sis, Plc 1-o-nasm, Syl-lep'-sis, En-al'1*·ge, aud Hy-per 1-ba-ton.
· · Ellipsis is the omission of a word or words necessary to
'
. of a sentence, but not essential to' its meaning·
1he·construct10n
'8, .;' [He] who steals my purse, steals trash."-" To who~
thhs Eve [spoke]."
.
Words thus omitted arc mid to be understood. They arc u.sed in the
tactical parsing of ~entcnc c ,, to explain th e ogrec-rncnt or govern·eient of the words expressed.
!

1

1Ple01ias11i is the use of superfluous words; as, " The boy,
This
Jgure often imparts force to expressions, and is generally emloyed when the feelings arc strongly excited.
· Syllepsis is the construing of words according to the
.ning they convey, and not by the strict requirements of
~matical rules; as, "Philip went down to the city of Saria, and preached Christ unto them."-" The moon her silber..-ns dispenses."
In the first example, city is 3d person, singular number; and, ac'

~h I where was he? "-" I know thee, u·ho thou art."

,' g to strict g,rammatical rules, them should be it. By the city, howe,1, the writer means the people in the city; and he is, therefore, at libto use a pronoun in the plural. In the last example; it will be
~ there is a species of inferior personification, by which sex is at, uted to the moon, an inanimate object; we may therefore substitute
. 'nine pronoun for its, which, strictly speaking, it would be neces. to use. As in this last case, the deviation which constitutes Syl·- ?ften. arises from the introduction of a rhetorical figure, such as
.~fic_at1on or metaphor.
'
81T. What are figures of syntax? N arno those most In nso. What Is Ellipsis?
.~ said of words omitted nccording to this figure? In what are they used?
IS Pleonasm? What does this fignr e Impart to expressions, nnd when Is it genemployed? What Is Sy ll opsis? Point out how this figuro operntcs In tho two

-~-

238

FIGURATIVE

EXEHCISE ON FIGURES.

Enallage is the use of one part of speech, or one modifi~
tion of a word, for another; as, '' They fall successive and s ·
cessive rise."-" Sure so me disaster has befell."

doW"n her pall.

In the first example, w e should have Lhc a<lverb successively to modiCJ'
the verbs f all and rise, instead of the adjective successive; and, in the
last, t he participle befallen, in place of the imperfect bcjcll. The tr~tli
is that this figure has been fo und necessary, to excuse the grammati~
c:.rors that occur in distin guish ed writers. The yo un g composer '
warned against supposin g that Enallagc can jnstify a violation of tlie
rules of Syntax. P erhaps the only case in which it may with prop~ie
b e used , is the substitution of yo1t for thou an<l we for I, whcu reference
is made to a single person.
1I

Hyp erbaton is the transposition of wor<ls; as, " He
ders earth around,"-for, "He wanders around earth."

.i

Point out the figures that occur in the following passag
and show, if they were not employed, what changes would
to b e made in the words : -

ha

!

'I

19.

,
Let us instant go,
* . *·
0 crturn !us bowers, o.nd lay his castle low.

20. 'Tis Fan cy, in 11Cr fi ery car

Transports me to the thick~st war.

21. Who never fasts, no banquet e'er e1~oys.
22. Illiss is the s.ame in subject as in king,
In who obtam defence, or who defend.

,

EXERCISE.

-,.,.·;

17. Consider the lilies of the field, how they

waD.

This firrure
constitutes one of the chief featmes that distinguiai
b
poetry from prnse. Ju<liciously used in either, it imparts variety,
strength, and vivacity, to composition. Cnre must bo taken, however,
not to carry it to such an extent as to occasion ambiguity or •obscurity.
~

239

LANGUAGE.

18. Dan Cha~cer, W ell of English undefyl ed,
On Fames eternall beadroll worthie to be fyl cd .

.

>,

~----- -

1. There's but one p ang in clcath,-lcaving the loved. 2. Thro':
shine the pearly pebbles. 3. Maistcr, have you any wery good weal,
your vallet ~ 4. E'en 'neath the earth I'll him pursue. 5. At her fi
h e b owed, h e fell, h e Jn.y clown: nt her feet h e bowed, h e fell; where
b owed 1 there h e fell <lown d ead. G, It's n ever a trouble, so plase
h onor for o.n Irishman to do hia duty. 7. He touch ethe no thing;
handl~the nourrht, but holdetho everemore his Hondcs b efore him, u
the Table. S. b Aclow n the steepy hill they toil. 9. Th' aerial p~
forms the scene a.new. 10, So little mercy shows who needs so m
11. Pr'ythee, p eace. 12. There lament they the liv e clay long. ' 1
lay in Sion a stumbling-stone, and rock of offence; o.ucl whosocve!'·
li cveth on him shall not b e ashamed. 14. Tnrn thou me, o.nd I
b e turned. 15. H e that h ath chnri ty, for him the prayers of
ascend. 16. First Evening draws hc1· crimson curtai n, then ~·

LESSON

XLVIII.

FIGURATIVE .LANG U AGE.

~ l § 318. Tim figures defined in the last lesson, though it is irn·portant that the student should be able to reco<mize them and
.
0
'
'
;.peed be, use them, have but little to do with style, compared
~th those which we shall next consider, and which are known
M figures of rhetoric. Before proceeding to treat of these sep·
'iftely, we ~ay with propriety consider figurative language
,.,general, its origin, its peculiarities, and the advantages
' ed by its use.
1

§ 319. DEFINITrbN.-Figurative language implies a depart-

e:from the simple or ordinary mode

of expression; a cloth-

, ~of ideas in words which not only convey the meaning, but,

, ~ugh a comparison or some other means of exciting the
·~gination, convey it in such a way as to make a lively and
rcible impression on the mind.
(Thus, if we say, "Saladin was shrewd in the council, brave in th~
~·" we express the thought in the simplest manner.

given examples. From what does Syllepsis often nr isc? Whnt is Enallnge?
how it operates in the given examples. For whnt has t!Jis fi gure heen found nee
Against what is th e composer warned? In wh nt cnse m ny Ennllnge be proper!
ployed? Whnt is Il yperbaton? In what is this figure most used? What';4
contribute to produ ce? What may result from it.'l immoderate uso ?

But if we vary

_818. How do the fi gures just defined compare in importance with figures of
ric? Before proceeding to treat of the latter, what is it proposed to consider? ·
J ,8 ~9. What does figur~tl vo lnngunge imply? Illustrate Hs use with the two examples

rm ·

240

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE.

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE.

241

l!,_,, •.

I,

1

we

ir

,,

•(

'1 1
Ii

'

the expression thus, " Saladin was n fox in the council, n hon in th'
field," we clothe the same sentiment in figurative la11gungc. - Instead of
cunning and courage, we introduce the animals that possess these quali;
ties in the highest degree, and thus present Ii vclier inrnges to the lnind;..
So, we have a plain a nd simple proposition in the scntcnJi, "It is im·
possible, even by the most careful search, folly to ascertain the divinl
nature." "But when we say, "Canst thou, by searching, find out God (
Canst thou find out the Almighty to perfection? It is high as heaven,
what canst thou do? deeper than hell, what canst thou know I"
unite with the same proposition questions expressive of admiration, and"
thus render it more forcible.

"'
,iJ..

§ 320. On.wm.-To account for the origin of figures, w~ ·
must go back to that of language itself, for they are coeval~
At this early period, men would naturally begin with giving
names to the different objects with which they came in contact:~
Their nomenclature was at first, of course, limited and impe~-.
feet; but, as knowledge increased and ideas multiplied, th'e
store of words would naturally increase also. N cvertheles~l
to the infinite variety of objects and ideas, language was inade;
quate; or rather, to extend it so as to have a separate word
for each, would have involved a vocabulary too cumbrous f6t
even the best memories. This difficulty was to be avoided';
and a natural expedient was adopted,-that of making a wor.d
already applied to one idea or object stand for another, be ·
tween which and the primary one they found or fancied SOil!e'
resemblance to exist. Thus, compassion in the human breast
as well as mildness of speech, seemed to be a kindred idea.td
softness in material bodies. The latter term was therefore e; ·
tended to the two form er ideas ; we speak with equal pro·.
•
pnety of a soft bed, a soft heart and so.ft words.
··
'ff~

''!

Figures of this kind abound in all languages. The operations of ~·
mind and affections, in particular, are designated by words originally
applied to sensible objects. These words, being earliest introducedi
§ 320. To account for the origin of fignre~, to whnt mnst we go bnck? With
would men nat.urally bcgiu? 'Vlint was tho chnrnctcr of their nomcnclntnre . at firetJ
When <lid it begin to be extended? 'What was tho obj ection tn in,·cnting a separali
word for each id ea and object? What natural exped ient wns adopted? Give an Ill
trntion. To what objects were names first given? To whnt, in pnrlicular, were tbeie
nam es afterwards extended? Cite some expressions w!Jich nrose in this way. Whal

~~:e nn.turnlly extended, hy d~grees, to those mcntnl peculin.rities of
which men had mo1·0 obscure ideas and to which they found greater
.· ~cul~y i'.1 assigning distinct names. Hence arose such expressions as
. '::piercing Judgment, a warm and a cold heart, a rough temper. In some
. ~es, t~csc figurative words a~e the only ones that can well be applied
w. ~uch id eas; ns the student will be convinced, on attempting to find a
onymous expression for " a cold or freezing reception".
:· With the origin of figures, moreover, imagination has had much to
~~· Ever~ ol\jcct tha~ makes an impression on the mind is accompanied
~vith certain cognate ideas. Nothing presents itself in an isolate~ manper. There nre relations which inseparably connect every material ob. j~ct with other things which either precede or follow it, produee it or ara
. p_roduced ~y '.t., res~mble .it or are opposed to it. Thus every idea car·
" z:es others Ill 1 ts tram, wluch may be regarded as its accessories· and the
. ~tter often ~trike the mind more forcibly than the principal idea itself.
'!Jiey are pl easanter, perhaps, or more familiar; or they recall to re_,,embrance a greater variety of important circumstances. The imag.tion, ~hu s di sposed :o rest on the accessory rather than on the prin·~pal ob~ect, often applies to the latter the name or epithet originally
~ppropnateJ. to the :ormer. Hence, choice, as well as the necessity allu} to above, has given currency to a great number of figurative ex.
. ssi~ns, and men ~f liv,~ly imaginations are adding to them every day.
, us, mstead of sayrng, Under Augustus, Rome enjoyed greater power
. glory ~han _at ~ny other period," we take an analogous idea, sug.
ted by ~agmat10n from the growth of a plant or tree, and say,
ome flouri shed most under Augustus; " or, remembering that, when
~-heavenly body is directly overhead, and therefore apparently at .the
J!jghest point of its orbit, astronomers say it is at its zenitli, we substi-~e. this accessory and say, "Under Augustus, Rome was at the' zenith
~ !!er _power and glory",-.and thus express the thought more tersely
·· pomtedly than by the literal language above cited.
.
.
# .

· § 321. HISTORY.-Such was the origin of figurative Ian.
age. First introduced by necessity, it was ·found to yield
~h pleasure to the imagination and communicate so much
· ' e to composition, that men used it in preference to plain
~:)iy of the mlnrl, nlso, hnrl much to clo with the origin of flgures? Describe the
Y,ln which it operated to proclnce them. Express, In plain Jangnnge, the fact that
der Augustus, Rome attained her greatest power nnd glory. Express the same

wJ

tlment flgurntio;cly in two different ways. Show, In ench case, whence the figure
.a.ertved.
·
J. ~21. W4at tl\'o causes, then, l!!d to the use of figurative Janguag.e? WJien Q!!l

.

p

•

.

.,

'·

-·
242

r

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE.

language, even when they could express their meaning equa11$, '.
well by means of the latter. Both these causes operated wi~p
special force in the early stages of society. 'rhe barrenne~B ,
of language made it necessary to use words in a figuratirie
sense; while imagination, then more vivid than in subseque~t
ages, gave a decided iweference to terms so employed. As r~
was in the infancy of society, so we find it generally to ~e,
with savage tribes.
N cw objects strongly impress the\t.
minds. 'rhey arc governed by imagination and passion, rath~r
than reason ; and this is shown in their language. 'rhe Nort~
American Indian tongues afford striking illustrations of
fact. Bold, picturesque, and metaphorical, they abound ·Bi
allusions to material objects, particularly such as are mqff .
striking in a wild 11nd solita1·y life. An Indian chiefr in,~~~··
ordinary harangue to his tribe, uses more metaphors than , a
European would employ in an epic poem.
. ;'

I

'•

t~~­

regar~~

',1

.I'i

II

I·

As a language progresses in refinement, precision is more
and there is a tendency to give every object a distinct name of its owl
Still, figurative words continue to occupy a considerable place. V(
find, on examination, that, while there are some which, by reason of rre;
quent use, have come to b e regarded as purely literal expressions,
as a clear head, a hard heart, and the like ; there are many others
in a greater or l ess degree, retain their figurative character and impail
to style the peculiar effect described above. As exampl es, we ll:a1
point to such phrases ns the following : " to enter 11pon a subject," "'
follow out an argument," " to stir itp strife," " to move the feelings," _1
In the use of such expressions, the correct writer will al ways carr/
the figure; that is, will regard the allusion on which it is based, and
troduce in the same connection nothing inconsistent therewith. !;'
may' for instance, " be sheltered under the patronage of a great man"!
but it would be wrong to say, "sheltered under the mask of dissim
tion,"-for a mask does not shelter, but conceals.

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE.

243

' I. TheyBy
enrich
·
'~res~ion
tl . Ian guage by mcreasing
its facilities of ex·
..l\801· that .all k' d1e1r fm:dans, words and phrases are multiplied

• ., •
<
ID s o 1 eas the
· t
d·
·
'
• l1iiicest shades of thouaht ' b ~.m~ est ifferences, and the
. J~ressed.
o ' can e rstmctly and accurately ex-

• k~, L", II. 'l'l iey d'lgnify style. Words and h
.
~_ai: is accustomed are often to 11 . p rases to .':h1ch the
''~mployed in connection with el~v~~edoquia~ and familiar to be
.'Ji_n·g of the latter we should b
, I subJects. 'Vhen treatd
e great y at a loss were it not for
gures Pro .
:IB
·
per Y use , they have the s
hat is produced by the rich and s 1 ad~e e ect on language
!!of rank · that · b ·
.
P en rd dress of a person
.
'
' is, y nnpartrng a general . f
.
·~ they exact admiration and respect A . arr o magmficence,
. . s.s1~tance of this kind is
"'pften necessary in prose . .
• r:,
' m poetry, it is mdispensable
.

·I .

, To say t!te sun rises, for instance is t .·
.
.
in the mind. bl1t th
'1
ute, and fails to awaken any
· •
e same t iought i
1 ·
.
egree as figuratively expressed b Th
s p easrng m the highest
"
Y omson:

·leasure
'

~

'IF

~u~

whi~,

~··

§ 322. AnvANTAGEs.-The advantages which accrue #. •lo
the use of figures are as follows:these causes opernto with special forco? Why? In '!>hat langnnges do they, _
operate strongly? What tongues afford striking illustrati ons of tills fact? What 14•
character of these Indian tongues? As a Jangunge progresses In refinement,
c1ency prevails? What follows, ns regards figurntivo expressions? What do wein process of time, with respect to them? In the use of figurative expression&,\'
must the writer
be cnreful to do?
Illustrate this.
·
. .
.

what~·

~

,.:When, for example, for youth we substitute h
.
.~~cy· is entertained with two ideas a t once - thte eearly
morning of life, the
p · d f ·
. has it eno o exist•·. ~1 and the opening of the day., enc1i of' which
. .
ns,
and
awakens
its
peculiar
train
of
images
,. s o-;n
assocrn,, .
· Th e 1ancy
is thus
ex-

f

822. What ls the first advnntan-o rcsultin
' nd p When we arc trcatina of : 1evatcd s g .from the uso of figures? Wbat, tbe
IJICh cases, to what must we lrnvc r
?UbJ ects, what words must not be used?
ffi t f
•
ecourse To what Is ti
compared? In what department of
.1
ie e ec o figurative Ian' hie p Show, by means of two exam I co~tos1t on Is assistance of this kind lndlstlve language? What is the third ~ es, l<l di~erence In effect between bite and
a vantage gamed by the use of figures? Ex-

f

I

-.t

244

':

;

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE.

cited in a two-fold degree; and this donL\c pleasnre is enhanced not~little by the evident resemblance between the objcct8 compared .
·

.

245

EXERCISES ON FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE.

IV. Again, as already seen, figures frequently convey t~
meaning more clearly and forcibly than pbin language. Thi{
is particularly true in the case of abstract conceptions, which3, ·
in a greater or less degree, they represent as sensible objects,, ·
surrounding them with sui::h circumstances as enable the mind
fully to comprehend them. A well-chosen figure, indeed, not
unfrequently, with the force of an argument, carries convi~
tion to the mind of the hearer ; as in the following illustr~
tion from Young : " When we <lip too deep in pleasure, w1e'
11
always stir a sediment that renders it impure and noxious. 11.
§ 323. UuLES.-ln the use of figures, rules are of service ,
as they are in every other department of composition. Ther.! is no force in the argument that they are unnecessary, because
people who have never heard of a rule use figures properlj.i .
every day.
We constantly meet with persons who sing agreeably and correctly
without knowing a note of the gamut; is it, therefore, improper to reo
duce the notes to a scale, or unnecessary for a musiei::m to study tM ·
principles of his art? The ornaments of composition are certainly ·~
capable of improvement as the ear or the voice ; and the only means of "'
ensuring this improvement are careful study of the various rules founded,
on nature and experience, and constant practice with reference to th \
principles they establish.
'

~ 324. U SE.-Though the advantages arising from the use I
of figurative language have been dwelt on at some length, ~
must not be supposed, either that its frequent use is absolut ,
ly essential to beauty of , composition, or that figures alone,
without other merits, can constitute such beauty. As th~
body is more important than the dress, so the thought is.' '

".

plain and illustrate this point. Fourthly, how <lo figures frequently convey a writer's
mea.ning? In tho case of what Is this particularly trnc? To what is a well-chosen
figur e often equivalent in force? Give an illnstratlon from Youn~. .
§ 323. ·what Is said of rules for the use of figures? What argument is urged against
·3
. them? Expose the fi;illacy of this argument.
§ 324. What must not be supposed with respect to figurative lnngunge? Which' '
more lmportant.,-the thought, or its dress?

more moment than the mode of oxpressing it. N 0 figure
~~n render a colJ or empty composition interestincr · while on
J..p othc~ hand,. if a sentence is sublime or path~tic, it ~an
1:ip~port itself without borrowed assistance.

r!
" ·e-·i·
•"~

.

.11!~'

. ~{!1.·'

LESSON XLIX.
EXERCISES

,
' 4:., IN the following
......

laliguage : -

ON FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE.

EXERCISE i.

passagos, change the fig~rativo . to plain

.

.

-

,,·

'

.

sh·· EXAMPLE. Figurative.-The
. .
. of terrore.
king
,,.Jt'

.. , .
The waves are asleep on the bosom of oceaii.
Plain.-Death.
·
The ocean is calm.
...

: ;.<i•; 1.

T~e riw:ning .of life ;-the veil of night ;-a fiery temper ;-a d.eep
thmker ~~a light d1sp?s1tioi: ;-a cold .heart ;-a warm friend :-an at.Jack of s1Ckness ;--;-a thin audience ;-liigh hopes ;-a hard lot. 2. Athens
was n~w at the pin_nacle of glory. 3. The sea swallows many a vessel
. 4. Bes~de th~ warr10r .~lept his bow; _5. Guilt is wedded to misery. 6.
: Homei s gen ms soars higher than V irg11's. 7. Some great men are noted
for the roitglmes~ of their beha~ior.. 8. Time had left his footprints on
,her brow. 9. 'Ihe breath of sprrng rnfuses new life into the vegetable
world. 10. The sangn!ne i;nan is sometimes rudely wakened from his
dreams. •11. Ev;en at imagrnary woes the heart will sometimes ache.
1,2. Abstmenc_e is the only talisman against disease. 13. This lamenta~on touched his heart. 14. We should not be cast down by linh.t afllic
tione.
·"
-. •1..ri1:.

15. "Adversity's cold frosts will soon be o'er; ·
It heralds bri(llitm· days :-the ?oyous Spring

Is cradled on the Winter's icy breast

And yet comes jlt/,/!hed in beauty."

'

16. "Vice Is a mon8ter of so fri(lliiful mien,
As to be hated needs but to be seen ·
Yet seen too oft, familiar with lier }ace
We first endure, then pity, then emb1·a~e."

......!

EXERCISE II.

,c In each of the. following passages, introduce figurative Ian·

~age

~o

without altering the sense. Punctuate the sentencet
formed, and be careful to carry out the figure properly.

·,
FIGURES OF RHETORIC.

FIGURES OF RHETORIC.

246

The student may form figures of his own, or may employ thosej "
.
h
·).
suggested by the words 111 parent eses.
· ll'

.,,
('.

Plain.-The uncompnssionate man has no sympathy fora·
the unfortunate.
Figurative.-The hard-hearted man turns a deaf car to th'~
unfortunate.
1. The mind should be kept uncontamin:itcd (weeds, garden). 2: Let~
us be virtuous, and not :yield to ~he .temptation~ o~ pleasure ~path:, listen, :.
· ) 3 'Vith the 11.ncient Stoics it was a prm ciple nevc1 to mdulgeB
voice .
.
.
·
f
t
their appetites unduly (ovcrs~ep). 4. Susp~c10n is a s?urce o gr~a un·
happiness (poison). 5. Providence has w.1sely orJa111eJ. that \I c ?hall
not know the future (s ealed). 6. Calummous reports are often cir~u-)
lated about those whose lives afford tho least reaso.n for t!1ern (aim,,)
arrows). 7, He is dying (tide). 8. Fortune, though it may rnvol~e us
in t emporal difficulties, can not make us 1)ermaneutly unhappy, if we .
do no evil. 9. Time mnkes many changes. ~O. The young man, o'1~ .
leaving college, should pause a moment for serious thought before en-~ .
gaging in active life (launching) . . 11: We should constant~y have regard1,
to the requirements of truth and Jllstice. .12. 'V c meet with ~ew utterly,)
stupid persons; with still few er noble gem uses : the gcnernhty of man·
kind are between the two extremes. 13. Often, when 11.ppare.ntly g.ay, "
the heart is sad. 14. Seldom do the ol~ form . very ardent fn?1~dsh1ps.j
15. Our worst enemies are our own evil passions. 16.. The ,ns1~g sunr,.
shines on the tops of the mountains (.gilds). 17. Tl~e ~1g~1tn111 g is see~-i;~
first on one peak and then on another (leaps). 18. Ile is Ill love.
EXAMPLE.

"'

I

1

. . the sixteen leading figures, which embrace many of the subdi·
. visions above alluded to, are all that it is necessary to under·
' stand or of advantage to employ.
The sixteen principal figures are Sim'-i-le, Met'-a-phor,
: , Al'-le-go-ry, l\Ie-ton 1-y-my, Sy-nec 1-do-che, Hy-per'~bo-le, Vis'·
· iop., A-pos 1-tro-phe, Per-son-i-fi-ca'-tion, In-ter-ro-ga'-tion, Ex·
' ~ta·mn/-tion, An-tith 1-e-sis, Cli'-max, l'-ro-ny, A-poph'-a-sis,
and On-o-mat-o-poo 1-ia.

i;" Several of these figures arc called tropos (a term derived from the
. Greek, meaning turns), because the word is turned, as it were, from its
·ordinary application.

. . ;~~·

§ 326. Simile is the comparison of one object to another,
'-*.d is generally denoted by like, as, or so ; as, " He shall be
•,lf,ke a tree planted by the -rivers of water. "-:--" Thy smil~ ~
~the dawn of the vernal day."
1

, ," Comparisons are sometimes made without any formal term to denote
them; as, "Too much indulgence does not strengthen the mind of the
Y.9ung; plants mi seJ. with tontlernes:i arc seldom strong." Here a com, parison is made just ns much as if the worJ. as were introduced before
., plants. So, Chaucer employs a simile iu the following beautiful line
without directly inidcatiug it:· ·
·
'
.
,.

I.
)I

247

I

"
LESSON L.
FIGURES

§ 325.

•

OF

RHETORIC.

.

.

.

.

'f!~

of rhetoric are mtcnt1onal dev1at10ns fro_W.
the ordinary application of words. 1rhey are constantly o~~ , .
curring in every department of composit~o~, and are a sourcei
of life and beauty to style.
Rhetoricians have devoteal ·
much attention to defining, analyzing, and classifying them)
and, by making slight shades of difference suffic~ent ground
for the formation of new classes, have succeeded m enumera·
ting more than two hundred and fifty. Such minuteness ~8 .
of no practical use; and we shall limit our consideration~ ~FIGURES

§ 325. 'Vlint nro fignros of rhetoric? How mnny Jrnyc been cnumcrntcc~ by rheto /
iciaus? H ow havo t!J cy sncccmtcd in uuiklng so many? H ow mnny ate here co...

"Up roso the sun, aml up rose Emilie."

,~r· All comparisons may be di vidcd, accorJ.ing to the purpose for which
they are employed, into two classes, known as Explanatory Similes and
:Embellishing Similes. The former may be used without impropr,i.ety
even in abstrnsc philosophical compositions, which, indeed, they often
!llpstrate in the happiest manner. One of this class is successfully em'p oyed by Harris, to explain the distinction betwee~ the : powers of
~J?.Se and those of imaginat ion. "As wax would n<;>t be adequate to the
purpose of signature, if it had not the power to retain ~s w'ell as to re~ive the impression ; the same holds of the soul, with r~spect to sense
.imagination. Sense is its receptive power; imagi~ation its retenjt~· Had it sense without imagination, it would not be as wax, but as
Y\\}er, where, though all impressions be instantly made, yet as soon a.'!

r,d

de'red? Name th em.

Whnt nre severnl of theso figures called? What does the word
.
S826. Whnt Is Simile ? By what words le It Indicated? How aro comparisons some·
'lllllee made? Give nn oxample. Into w!Jnt two clo.ssos nro Similes divided? Define
cilcb, and give examples.
·
·
- ·

~pesmean1

I,

..

248

FIGURES OF RHETORIC.

FIGURES " OF RllETomc.

24~

they are made, they are instantly lost." The Embcllish'.ng Sii:iile, ~i
It is founded, not on resemblance, but on the relaor
mstru~·:
.
f
1
the other hand, is introduced, not fo1· the sake of explanat1011
. h IB t'
t10n o , . Cause an d effect: as, " They have Moses and the
tion, but simply to beautify the style. Such, for instance, is t e e e~
1
of the following from Ossian:-" Pleasant are the wordil of the so~g, said~
. pr:oplzets ' , i.e., their 'lj)ritings; " Gray hairs should be respectCuchullin, and lovely are the tales of other times. They .ll.rc. like t~e;
.·, ed", i.e., old age. 2. Progenitor and posterity i as, "Hear,
calm dew of the morning on the hill of roes, when the sun ts fomt on 1 ~
.0 1Israei ", i. e., descendants of Israel. · 3. Subject and attriside, and the lake is settled and blue in the vale.
•.l
bute j as, " Youth and beauty shall be laid in dust", i.e., the
§ 327. Metaphor indicates the resemblance of tw_o object~~
• young and beautiful. 4. Place and inhabitant; as, " What
by applying the name, attribute, or act of one dll"cct~y t?~
fand is so barbarous as to allow this injustice?" i. e., what
the other; as, " He shall be a tree planted by the nversi
. people. 5. Container and thing contained; · as, " Our ships
of water."
~l
· next opened a fire", i.e., our sailors. 6. Sign and thing sig:Metaphor is the commonest of all the figures. It. nss:1mes !\ va~·~etri
l!ified j as, " The sceptre shall not depart from Judah", i. e.,
of forms under some of which it is constantly appearing rn compositio11n :
!fingly power. 7 . .JYiaterial and thing made from jt; . as,
Someti~es there is no formal comparison; but, as wns instanced in th~
'!.His steel gleamed on high". i. e., his sword.
·, ·
'
last lesson, 1111 net is nssigne\l to nn object, which, literally, it i~ in_capa~·
) . g ,'
h l t can•
_ irw· § 330. Synecdoclie is usinir the name of a part for that of
ble of performing, to represent in a lively mnn_ncr some nc t· w _ic i 1 • .
.
~
c
"Wild fon cieg nambozt,,d unbrir/lPd through Im bram.,
· the whole, the name of the whole for that of a part, or a defipcr1orm ; as,
'
· .,
- ·
.
We may properly apply the term mdaphorical to ."'ords used
.
mte number for an indefinite: as, " The sea is covered ·with
:figuratfre sense, like many of those in the Inst Exerci 5 e.
' ".
.~ils ", i. e., slt1j1s; " Our ltero was gray, but not from age",
§ 328 . .A11Pgory is the narratiou of_ fictitious cyc ut;: , '~l,i ere-::~~-·i
..
e., his ltair 11as gray; " Ten t1wusund were on his right
by it is sought to convey or illustrate unpor taut truths. lhu~f
~~~d " ,i.e., a great nmnber.
in Psalm lxxx., the Jewish nation is represented under th_
e'
• ri § 331. 1-Iyperbole is tbe exaggeration of attributes, or the
symbol of a vine :-" Thou hast brought a vine. out ,of Egypt Z!
~ssigning to a subject of a wonderful and impossible act as
thou hast cast out the heathen, and planted it. Thou pre·,
~e result of ardent emotion ; as, " They [Saul and Jonathan]
paredst room before it, and diLli:it. cause it to t~ke deep root, an~ ·
~ere swifter than eagles, they were stronger tlian lions."-·
11 ..A.nd trembling Tiber dived beneath his bed."
it filled the land. The hills were covered with the shadow of .
-·, , .
it, and the boughs thereof were like the goodly cedars."
· '.
,.Hyperbolical expressions are of frequent occurrence in common conIt will be seen that an Allegory is a combination of kindred met!\,
Ye~~ation; we ofLen say, as cold as ice, as hot as fire, as white as snow,
phors 80 connected in sense as to form a kind of story: ~'he par.ables o(
WJ.iin all which phrases the quality is exaggerated beyond the bounds 1
Scripture, as well as fables that point a moral, are vanct1cs of ~lus figu_r ~
. Of~ruth. Their frequency is to be attributed to the imagination, which
Sometimes an Allegory is so extended as to fill a volume ; ns m the caa:,
always takes pleasure in magnifying the objects before it. Languages
of Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress".
· , il·
~%therefore, more or less hyperbolical, according to the liveliness of
§
. Metonyniy is the exchange of names between thing~
.thls,Jaculty in those who speak them. Hence the Orientals indulge in
329
§ 327. What does Metaphor indicate? What is s.nill of _t110 fori~1 s und er which ,
appears? llow is it sometimes usecl in connection with !I srngle olij cct? What ~
may be properly nppliecl to words used figuratively?
.
.
§ 328. What is Allegory? Of what is it n combi n~tion? Wbnt nm meutione4 ~
varieties of this figure? How for is nn All egory sometuncs extend ed ?
'.'ti'
§ 829. Whnt \s Metonymy? On whnt is this llgnrn not founclecl? Mention tho"'

'1!'usrelations subsisting between objects whose names are exchanged, and illustrate
tlch.
'5830. What is Synecdoche?
S831. What is iryperbole? Where does this figure frequently occur? . Give some
tommon co!loqulal hyperbolicnl expressions. To what is their frequency attributable?
,A,ccording to what Is a lnngunge found to be more or less hyperbolical? By whom ls
Jl',perbole most frequently used ?

11 *

-

--

251

FIGURES OF RHETORIC.

FIOUl\ES OF RHETOnIC.

Hyperbole more freely than Europcnns, nnd the young use it to a muc;~
greater extent than those of maturer years.
·\~

J~;· "A good nian obtaincth favor of the Lord; but a ' rnan
oji wicked devices will He condemn."-" Though grave, yet
trifling ; zealous, yet untrue." This figure is used with
' 'great effect in the Book of Proverbs, x.-xv. It is one of the
most effective ornaments that can be employed in composition.
11To extirpate antithesis from literature altogether," s:i.ys
~he author of Lacon, "would be to destroy at one stroke about
eight-tenths of all the wit, ancient and modern, now existing
in the world."
·
·~l! § 338. Cliniax is the arrangement of a · succession of
' ~ords, clauses, members, or sentences, in such a way that the
weakest may stand first, and that each in turn, to the erid ·of
the sentence, may rise in importance, and make a deeper impression on the mind than that which preceded it; as, "Who
s~all separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation,
o,r distress , or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril,

250

§ 332. Vision, also called Imagery, is the representation
of past events, or imaginary objects and scenes, as actually~ .
present to the senses; as, " Cresar leaves Gaul, crosses theJ
Rubicon, and enters Italy", i. c., left Gaul, crossed the Rubicon/1
&c. ; " They rally, they bleed, for their kin gdom and crown.'(~ '
It will be seen from the examples that this figure often con:1i
sists in substituting the present tense for the past.
§ 333. Apostrophe is a turning from the r egular course ofi·
the subject, into an invocation or address; as, " Death is swal·
lowed up in victory. 0 death, where is thy sting? 0 grav~ 11
where is thy victory ? "
'l{f .
§ 334. Personification, or Pros-o-po-pa/-ia , is the attribut-1 ·
ing of sex, life, or action to an inanimate object; or the ascribin~ "
of intelligence and personality to an inferior creature j as,~ ,
" The sea saw it and fled."-" The Worm, aware of his intent,?;.
harangued him thus."
·~· '
§ 335. Interrogation is the asking of questions, not for th~\
4
purpose of expressing doubt or obtaining information, but.i '
order to assert strongly the rev erse of wbat is asked j as,
''Doth God pervert judgmen t? or doth the Almighty perver~
justice?" This fi gure imparts animation to style. It is con.,,
stantly employed in th e Book of Job.
§ 336. Exclaniation is the expression of some strong emo; .
tion of the mind; as, "Oh! the depth of the riches both of th ~
wisdom and the knowledge of God ! " This figure employ~~
excln.matory sentences and vocative clauses.
§ 337. Antithesis is the placing of opposites in juxta-posi;'
tion, for the purpose of heightening their effect by contrast .j..,
§ 332. What is
often require?
§ 333. What is
§ 334. What is
§ 335. Wbnt is
§ 836. What ls
§ 337. What Is

Vision sometimes called? Define this figure.
Apostrophe?
Personification ?
Interrogntion? Where does it constan tly occur?
Exclnmntion? What does this figure employ ?
Antith esis? Where ls It used with great effect?

7· o~"sword

?"

·~ This term is derived from the Greek word, klimax, "a ladder." The
definition given above h as reference to the Climax of sense. ·we have
~~a
Climax of sound, which consists in arranging .a series of words or
I'
.clauses
according to th eir length, that is, so that the shortest may
.
.
cbme first: as, "He was a great, noble, disinterested man;" not, "He
. ii~ a disinterested, noble, great man." A fine effect is produced by
eombining the Climax of sense with that of sound. Cicero understood
this
fact, and, in his orations, constantly availed himself of it, ,with•the
.
I
.
'greatest success.
,,
·
" · The faulty arrangement of words and clauses in the oppo~ite order
tGthat prescribed by this figure, that is, so that they successively de· crease in importance, is known as Anti-climax. It is well illustrated in
~e following couplet:~,

I

"And thou, Dalhousie, thou great god of war,
Lieutenant-colon el to tbe enrl of Mar!"

i"'The term Climax is also applied by some to sentences in which, for
iJ!e sake of emphasis, an expression occurring in one member 'ia · re-

•·

; § 838. Whnt is Cl!max? From what Is this te.rm derived? What ls meant by a
Climax of sonn!l? How is a fine effect produced? Who has avniled ·himself of tbla
fact? What is Anti-clirn nx? Cile a couplet in point. To what senteuces is tbe term
Cllmax also applied? Repent the Illustration quoted from Popi). . What other name I.a
pven to this variety of Clinmx?
'"

Mt•

peateu m another; as "When we hnvc prnctiscd good actions a while,,
they become easy; a~d, when they are easy, we begin to take pleasure.
in them; and, when they please us, we do them frequcnt~y; and, by
frequency of acts, they grow into a lmbit." So, rope, to ~e1ghten com·
passion for the fate of an unfortunate lady, repeats the idea that sh~
lacked friendly sympathy in her distress : "By foreign bnnds thy dying eyes .were closed,
By forei gn bands thy decent llmbs composed;
By foreign hnnds thy bumble grnvo ntlorned,
"
By strangers honored nnd by strangers mourned.

Some make this an indep endent figure, and style it R epetition.

§ 339. Irony is a figure by which is expressed directly the .
opposite of what it i.s intendeu shall be undcrst?od j a~ whep
Elijah said to the priests of Baal, who were trymg to mducq ,
their false god to manifest himself miraculously, :' Cry ~louq; ·
for he is a god," &c .. ~his figure has been alrcauy cons1dere~
under the head of R1d1cule.
§ 340. Apophasis, Paralipsis, or ?n.zission, i.s the p~·et~nt"
ed suppression of what one is all the time actually ~1ent10nmg 1
" I say nothina of the notorious profligacy of llls character j
as,
b
.
.
h"'
nothin(J'
of the reckless extravagance with wl11ch he ¥
0
wasted an ample fortune ; nothing of the disgusting in temp~!·
ance which has sometimes caused him to reel in our street~,i
-but I aver that he has exhibited neither probity nor ability
in the important office which he bolds."
.,
· § 341. Onomatopmia is the use of a word or phrase formed,~~ ·
imitate the sound of the thing signified; as when we say, rqt·
tat tat to denote a knocking at the door i bow wow, to expre~,e
the b;rking of a dog; . or, buzz, buzz, to indicate the no~e
made by bees.

253

EXERCISE ON FIGURES.

FIGURES OF RHETORIC.

252

LESSON LI.
EXERCISE

ON

FIGURES.

PornT out the figures that occur in the following passages,
. .,and state to which of the foui' classes they belong. There
' "may be more than one in the same sentence.
1. Th ey that are of a froward heart nre abomination to the Lord:
· but snch ns fU'C upright in their way are His delight. · 2. As a jewel of
'gold in a swine's snout, so is a fair woman which is without discretion.
3. For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor
·~principaliti es, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor
.!·height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us
~: . from th e love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. 4. The depth
, ' saith, It is not in me: and the sea saith, It is not with me. 5. Weep on
h he roclrn of roaring winds, 0 maid of Inistore I Bend thy fair head over
the waves, thou lov elier than the ghoet of the hills, when it moves on
the sunbeam, at noon, over the silence of .Morven. He is fallen: thy
~ .youth is low I 6. Ile smote the city. 7. There are a million truths
~. that men are not concerned to know. 8. On this side, modesty is
I engaged; on that, impudence: on this, chastity; on that, lewd'lness: on this, integrity; on that, fraud: on this, piety; on that pro. fonencss: on this, constancy; on that, fickleness: on this, honor; on
~'that, baseness: on this, moderation; on that, unbridled passion. 9. For
' all the land which thou seest, to thee will I give it, and to thy seed for; ever. And I will mo.kc thy seed as the dust of the earth; so that, if a
_man can number the <lust of the earth, then shall thy seed also be num~bered. 10. Ignorance is a blank sheet, on which we may write; but
. error is a scribbled one, from which we must first erase. 11. Horatius
was once a ve ry promising young gentleman; but in process of time he
became so addicted to gaming, not to mention his drunkenness and de"J>auchery, that he soon exhausted his estate, and ruined his constitution.
,12~ Hast thou eyes of flesh? or seest thou as man seeth Y Are thy days
·the <lays of mn.n 1 Are thy years as man's days? 13. Streaming
grief his faded cheek bedewed. 14. My heart is turned to stone: I
' strike it, and it hurts my hand. 15. Frie ndship is no plant of hasty
growth. 16. Cool nge advances, venerably wise. 17. Ohl that ye
_ would altogether hold your peace l and it ahould be your wisdom.
Whoso loveth instruction loveth knowledge; but he that hateth re·
proof is brutish. 19. His arm soon cleared the field.
: ~ ~ .-

18..

§ 889. What is Irony?
§ 840. What other names bns Apopbasls? Define this figure.
§ 841. What is Onomatopooia i Exemplify It.

20. Some lend a life unblamable and just,
Their own dear virtue their unshaken trust.
21. The combat thickens. On, ye brnve,
Who rush to glory or the grnve I
22. Oh I unexpected stroke, worse than of death!
l\lust I thu s leave thee, Paradise I thus leave
Thee, nntl ve soil, these bnppy walks, and shades,
Fit haunt of gods I

.. ,

;.

"

~

·.·

.

t ' '

,-

"

•,

-

IlULES FOR THE UBE OF RHETORICAL FIGURES.
RULES FOR THE USE OF RHETOitlCAL FIGURES.

254

23. 0

b

k
e monuments of mind, concrete wis•lr;m of tho ."'~ ~es t;
oo B, Y
f 1 ·ry life. proofs nnd results of nnmnrtnl!t} ,
1

.

~;;-ee:st
}~?cff(kZ~~go ~11c[d~~~1t~;:1;~;~0~f1 \~:~\~~:;,e1;.~; j~~~ J~cfil~::ft,~~ ~J~~o~d.t one'
Groves o · 11 0 11
o <•

•

1

· ,

24 Earth felt the wonn <l · nrnl Nnture fr<; rn h er s; nt
. Sighing, turongh nll h ur work~, grwc signs of" oe

That all was lost.

25 How slow yon tin y >essel plou ghs th o mnin I
. Amici the h envy uillow s now ehc seems
At 0 iling atom. th en from wav e to wnvc
Lea ps madly, by the tcmpc~t ln, hc<l; or reels,
Half wrecked, through gulfs profound.

ZG

Me miserable l 11·1rich way shall ~ fly
· Infinit e ,vrnt h, nn<l infinite <l es1;nrr?
Wliich way I fl y is hell, 111ysel l am hell,And in th e low est depth. n lower tlccp, .
Bti11 threatening to de ronr inc, opens '~1<le,
'l'o which the hell I suffer seems n hcr11c11.

27

t'

Tho car~1r
• Gn>e signs of i::rntulnlion•, and each lull . .
Jo •ous the birds; fresh gales anti gcntl o.mrs.
'Vl1ispcrcd it to the woods, and fr om thcrr wrng~
:Flung rose, flung odor from the ~plcy shro b,
Disporting.
On! on! wilhnjump,
28. Dash along l
And n bump,
Slash alon g !
And a roll,
\I
Crash along l
Illes tho f\re-fieml to his destin ed goa
Flash along I

-- ···-LESSON

LIL

RULES FOR THE USE OF RHETORICAL J:'IGURES.

§ 342. For a pracLical view of the figures defined in Lesson
d to learn under what circumstances they are mos~
L ., an
·
·
ded to a8

effectively introduced, the young wnter is recommen
re
careful and critical perusal of standard authors .. A few re~
marks, however' on figures in general, and some. brief rules re· t
specting the use of the most important ones, will be found ~~d
service.
§ 3 43. In the first place, .a~ ob_servation already made mus t.
be remembered, that compos1t1on is by no mea~1s depen~ent o1l
figures for all, or even the greater part, of l ts beauties an~•
2 Where is the sln•lent rrferrc(l for n practical view of figur es ?
""'
§ 3.J. ·
.
l' , tho effect of figures on com..§ 343. 'Vlint obscrvnlion is first mndo respcc mg

255

Examples of the most sublime and pathetic writing
abound, and many have been cited above, in which, powerful
as is their effect, no assistance is derijed from this source.
Figures, therefore, though valuable as auxiliaries, should not
' 1be the chief object had in view.
If a composition is destitute
· of striking thoughts, or even if the style is objectionable, all
' .the figures that can be employed will fail to render it agreeable.
They may dazzle a vulgar eye, but can never please a judicious
second place, to be beautiful, figures must rise nat~ally from the subject. Dictated by imagination or passion,
.,, they must come from a mind warmed by the object it would
describe. 'l'hcy must fl.ow in the same train as the current of
thought. If deliberately sought out, and fastened on where
they seem to fit, with the express design of embellishing, their
·effect will be directly the opposite of what is intended.
Again, even when i;nagination prompts and the subject naturally gives rise to figures, they should not be used to excess.
~he reader may Le surfeited with them; and, when they recur
too often, they are apt to Le regarded as evidence of a superfi·
,9jal mind that delights in show rather than in solid merit.
.f' Lastly, without a genius for figurative language, no one
should attempt it. Imagination is derived from nature; we
Yiay cultivate it, but must not force it. We may prune its re'4,ip:idancies, correct its errors, and enlarge its sphere; but the
fuqulty itself we can not create. We should therefore avoid
e.ttempts which can result only in making our weakness
apparent.
. i,. With these general principles in view, we proceed to cer~in rules and cautions relating to simile, metaphor, and hyperbole, the commonest ornaments of style.

:., § 344.

S111IILE.

i!Uon? What Is essential to th e beauty of figures? Wh en they are deliberately sought
lif,.what Is their effect? ·what is said of using them to excess, e~en when they ariso
naturally from the subject? Whnt writers should avoid attempts at figurative
,.llngaage?

•

---·~

256

RULES FOH THE USE OF

RllETO~ICAL

FIOUnEs.
RULES FOR THE USE OF RHETORICAL FIGUflES.

I. Objects must not be compnred to things of t.hc srrmc k i~dfi, that,
we receive from t us gure_.
c1ose1y resembl e them. :Much of the J)leasure
·
arises from its discovering to us similitudes where at first glance we·
ld
t exp
· ect them. 'Vhen J\lilton compares Satan's nppcarance,'
wou no
1·
1t
f .
th after his fall, to that of the sun suffering nu cc tpsc .nn< e1-r1 ~rng e_
nations with portentous darkness, we are struek with ~he porn~ and;
dignity of. the simile. But when he likens Eve's bower 111 Pnra~1se to,
the arbor of Pomona, or Eve herself to a wood-nymph, we receive b~t
little entertainment, as one bower auJ one beautiful woman must ob~1;
ously, in many respects, r esemble another.
'"

1

. II. SLill less should similes be fou11uc1l on fnint rcsemblrrnces: . In'.
this case they neith er explain nor embelli sh, and in s~e n•l. of cntertamrng
the mind distract and perplex it. Shnkspcarc, bold rn Ins nse of figures,rathet· than delicate 01· correct, frequently violates this rule. The fol}
lowing is a case in point: "Give me the crown.-Ilere, Cousin, seize the crnwn:
Here on this side, my hnnd; on that side, thine.
Now is thi5 golden crown liken deep well,
That owes two buckets, filling one nnolher;
The emptier ever <lancing in the air,
The other down, unseen and full of water:
That bucket down, and fnll of tears, nm I,
Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high."

,.

IV. Nothing is gained by comparing objects to things respecting
· ~hich little is known, as in the following from Cowley:"It gives n piteous groan, nnd so it broke;
In min it 8omcthiug would hnve spoke;
The lo rn within too strong for 'twas,
Like pol$on put into a Venice-17Zass."

Compariso1rn, therefore, founded on local allusions or traditions on
the career of obscure mythological personages, on matters strict!; be• longing to science or philosophy, or on any thing with which persons
• of a cert.ain 1.rade or profession only are conversant, must be avoided.
To be clfccti ,-e, the object to which comparison is made must be
familiar to the readcr,-one of which, if not personally known to him,
he Jias nt least a well-defined conception.
·

~

1

:f· V. Similes must not be drnwn from resemblances to low or trivial
. ·,objects. Figures so derived degrade style, instead of adorning it.
"/}.ear witness the following:-

•

"A s \rnsps, provoked by chil<lren in their play,
Pour from their mansions by the broad highway,
In S\\"Rl'lll8 the guiltless traveller engage,
Wh et nll their stings, and call forth all their rage;
All rise In nrnrn, and, with a general cry,
Assert their waxen dom es, nnd buzzing progeny:
Thus from the tents the ferve nt legion swarms,
So loud their clamors, and so keen their arms. "-POPE"s HOMER.

··p

maJ

III. Trite similes are by all means to b.e avoided. Aru~'.1g t~ese
be classed the comparison of a hero to a hon, that of a pct sou m sorro . ~·.
to a flower drooping its bead, of a violent passion to a. tempest, of a,
ruddy cheek to a rose, of a fair brow to nlabastcr,-w~11c.h have been
handed down from one generation to another, and arc still m great favQt
with second-rate writers. As originally used by those who too~ theiw
direct from nature, they were beautiful; but frequent use ~as d1vest~d
them of all their charm. Indeed this is one criterion by winch the tr~?.
genius may be distinguished from the. empty imitator. To the former~
the treasures of nature are open; he discerns new shapes and forms, a~4
points of resembla.nce before unobscrvcc~: the latter must h11~1~ly follo.'!f
in the train of those more gifted than lnmself. Unable to or1g1nate ait]
new comparison, he can only re-express the inventions of others.
§ 344. To whnt must objects not be compared? From whnt docs much of the
pleru;ure we receive from tho uso of simile arise? Illustmt.e this by a reference ~
two of Milton's similes. What is snid of similes founded on fnmt resemblances? Who
frequently violates t!Jis rule? To what does be mnke one of hi s chnrncters compare, ~
crown? What is the effect of this figure? Whnt is the third clnss of similes that mu~
bo avoided? Instanco some of these. Show tho difference in this res pect between the
true genius nnd the Imitator. In the fourth plnce, lo what mnst ohjccts not be C~l!lj

257·

j;

We certainly have no highe1· idea of the prowess of an army from its
peing said to resemble a swarm of wasps. In like manner, objects should
be compnrc<l to things that possess the quality in which the resemblance
lies in a greater degree than themselves. Thus, in the sentence, "The
~oon is like a jewel in the sky," the simile is bad, because the. moon
more light than a j ewel, and should not therefore be compared to
the latter.

~eds

~ti'·

P-: VI. So, to compare
~em in greatness is no

low or trivial objects to. things far exceeding
beauty, but "constitutes one of the varieties of
li1_1rlesquc. This is exemplified iii a passage from the Odyssey, in which
the click of a lock is compared to the roaring of a bull~
"Loud ns a bull mnkes hill and rnlley ring,
So roare<l the lock wh en it released the spring."
pared? How do cs Cowley violate this rnlo? What comparisons are thus excluded p
wl1nt resemblances must similes not be drawn? What is the effect of
11gures thus cl erh·ccl ? In the illustration cited from Homer, to what ls the Grecian host
, ened? Whnt is the fault in comparing the moon to a jewel? Describe and illustrate the sixth clnss of· faulty similes. Whnt emotions do not admit of comparisons f
~how how Shnkspcnro violates this prlnciplo.
. .

~bly, from

llULES FOit THE USE OF RHETORICAL FIGURES.

VII. Similes aJ'e out of place, when anger, terror, remorse, or despair,1~
is the prevalent passion. Men under the influence of such emotions are1i
not likely to indulge in comparisons. Shakspeure, in Henry VI., gross,-a
ly violates this principle, when he makes th(l dying Warwick say:-

C9Zumns can not very well take kind adieus or seek consent, there is an
inconsisten cy, and the metaphor is faulty. The poet should either have
avoided liken ing Telemachus to a column, or else should not have at~ibuted to him an act which it is impossible for a column to perform.
' So, Pope elsewhere says, addressing the king,

" l\Iy mangled body shows,
l\fy blood, my want of strength, my sick heart shows,
That I must yi eld my body to the earth,
And, by my foll, the conquest to my foe.
Thus yields the cetlar to tho nxe's edge,
'Vhoso nrms g1wo slJcltcr to tho princely cnglo;
Under whoso shntlo tho ramping lion slept;
Whose top-brunch ovcrpeerec.l Jove's spreading treo,
And kept low shmbs from winters powcrfnl wind."

§ 345.

l\fETAI'HOR.

11

IV. :Mixed mctaphors,-that is, the use of two different figures in the
1ame period, with r eference to the same object,-confound the imagination, and are to be strictly guarded against. Thus Addison, in his
11
letter from Italy," says,
e I'

•ioiJ.

illu ;
• !()

~~~

To th ee tho world its present homage pays;
The harvest early, but mature th e praise."

. Here, had it not been for the rhyme, he would evidently have said,
"The harv est early, but mature the erop." Ile would thus have carried
out the figure.

I. :Metaphors b eing in most cases similes with the term denotin~ ,
the comparison omitted, the rules laid down in the last section for the
laLLer figure arc equally ap.IJlicablo to the forn1cr. Jn "\1H•r wonl', we
must avoid unmeaning, far-fetched, trite, obscure, degrading, bombastic,
and unreasonable metaphors. These diffcl'cnt faults having been
trated under the simile, it is not thong ht necessary to give further ex·~
.

II. Care must be taken that the metaphor be appropriate. Thus, tli~
clergyman who prayed that God would be "a rock to t hem that a~~
afar off upon the sea," used a very inappropriate figure; b ecause, as
rocks in the sea are a source of great danger to mariners, he was in
reality asking for the destruction of those for whose safety he inten~~~
to pray.
. .. 1
III. The commonest eno r in the use of metaphors is the blending o
figurati ve with plain language in the same sentence; that is, the cqn• .
struction of a period in such a way that a part must be interpre~~
metaphorically and the r emainder literally. Thus Pope, in his transl~
tion of Homer's Odyssey (the error. is not found in the original), ma~~
Penelope say with reference to her son,
', :~ :

,I

259

RULES FOR THE USE OF RHETORICAL FIGURES.

258

"Now from my fond embrnce by t~mpcs ts torn,
Our ot.h or column of the state is borne,
Nor took n kind adieu, nor sought consent."

In the second line she calls h er son a "column of the state," and ill ,
the third speaks of his taking a kind adieii and seeking eonsent. Now, '81
§ 345. What Is the differ ence between similes nnd mctnphors? What is said of •
rules relating to tho former? Accordingly, wlrn.t kind of m etaphors must b~ avoid'~'
In the second pince, what quality is essential to tho correct metnpbor? Give an ·, .
ampl e of tho innpproprinte u~c of thi s flgmo. Whnt Is tlJo commonest error In the
of metaphors ? Illustrate this from Pope's translalion of tho Odyssey, and show,~

11

I hriclle in mv Rt.rne-Q'lin~ mn•(' w!th p~in ,
Thnt longs to lnunch into a bolder strai n."

mak es his muse a horse which may be bridled, theu a ship
thich may be laimched. How can it be both, at one and the same
moment? How can b eing bridled pl'cvcut it from launching? With
: l/j,1~81 impropri ety Shakspeare uses the expression, " To take arms
· ~ainst a sea of troubles," comparing the troubles iu question, in the
1&11!-e breath, to an enemy and to a sea.
I' V. Lastly, metaphors should not be carried too for; if all the minor
1>9.int.s of resemblance are sought out and dwelt upon, the reader will
Inevitably become w ea ried.
t

§ 346. II YPERilOLE.
~I. Violent hyperboles are out of place in mere descriptions.

A per-

r'.!1. in great affliction may indulge in wild exaggeration, but for a writer
merely describing such a person to use language like the following is
~bombast:"I found her on the floor,
In nil the storm of grief, yet beautiful ;
Pourin g forth tears at such a lavish rate,
Tbnt, were tho world on fire, th ey might have drowned
The wrath of Heaven, and quenched the mighty ruin."-LEE.

Hyperbol es may be so extravagant as to render the writer and
subject ridiculous. Lucan furnishes a case in point. The later
, : Give another couplet from Pope contnining a violation of this principle. What
·mixed metaphors? What is their effect? Show how Addison and Shakspeare
.· this rule. What Is said about carrying metaphors too far?
f 846. In what nre violent hyperboles out of place? Give an example of bombast

1

-

-

EXERCISE ON FIGURES.

EXERCISE ON FIGUitES.

260

.
liment to their emperors, wm>e in the habit ~r.l'
Roman poets, as a comp
I t
·t of the heavens they woufd ..
asking them in thei_r a?dres~es. w w l~:d become god~. Lucan, how;
choose for their hab1tat.10n altc1 they
.
ddress to Nero
o outdo all his predecessors m an n
l.
ever, resolvmo t .
l
his 1)lace nea1· either of the poles~
gravely beseeches lum not to c ~oose
lest his weight overturn the umverse.
•

~,, 4.

261

In Addison's Cato, Portius, bidding his beloved Lucia an eternal

~ewell,

uses the following language:"Thus o'er the dying lamp the unsteady flame
Hangs quivering on a point, leaps off by fits,
Aud foils again, as loath to quit its hold.
---Thou must not go; my soul still hovers o'er thee,
And eau't get loose."

'

(J'

"Nor could the Greeks repel the Lycian powers,
Nor th e bold Lycians force the Grecian towers.
As, on the confines of adjoining grounds,
Two stubborn swnins with blows dispute their bounds;
They tug, they sweat; but neither gain nor yield,
One foot, one inch, of the contended field."-PoPE's HOMER.

__.-·-·--LESSON LIII.

angels, searching for mines of gold, Milton
I'

EXERCISE

'!

ON

FIGURES.

. ut the firrurcs of orthography, etymology, syntax,
P oIN r o
o
.
t
t
In each
and rhetoric, that occur in the foll~wmg. ex rac s.
, .
.
f ulty firrure which v10lates one or mo~;
passage, t h ere is a a
"
'
Sh
h . the
of the rules laid down in the last lesson. .
ow w c~~1~ . th
error lies and suggest, in oach case, a figure by w tc ::
difficulty in question may be avoided.
FAULTY SIMILES.
"The holy Book, like the eighth sphere, doth shine."-CowLEY'.1;
1.
2. "The su11, in figures such ns these,
Joys with the moon to play:
To the sw eet strains th?Y ndvanC'P.,. .
·which do r esult from then· own spheres,
As this nymph's dance .
. ,, \Y ER
Moves with the numbers which she hems. ALL .
, R"
gives these directions\'
·d II ., 'a gardener
'
3. In Shakspeare s ic1iar
his servants:" Go bind thou up yon dangling nprieot~, .
Wl~ich, like unruly children: make ~heir s~~e .
Stoop with oppression of their prod'.gal w~1bht,
Give some supportance to the. bcndrng twigs.
Go thou; and, like an execut10ne~,
Cut off the heads of too fast-growrng sprays,
That look too lofty in our eommonw~~lth;
All must be even m our government.
produced by this figure.
Lucnn indulges.

"A numerous brigade hastened: as when bands
Of pioneers, with spade and pick-axe armed,
Forenm the royal camp to trench a field
Or cast a rampart."

What Is snid of extmvng:mt hyperboles?

l{

'.

FAULTY METAPHORS.
~

....~. "Trothal went forth with the strenm of his people, but they met
,rock: for Fingnl stood unmoved; broken, they rolled back from his
''de. Nor did they roll in safety; the spear of the king pursued their
Aight."-OssrAN.
8. A torrent of superstition consumed the land.
9. "·where is the monarch who dares resist us? ·where is the potentate who doth not glory in being numbered among our nttendants 1
168 for thee, descended from a Tnrcoman sailor, since the· vessel of thy
'l!Dbounded ambition hnth been wrecked in the gulf of thy self-love, it
' uld be proper that thou should'st take in the sails of thy temerity,
Cl cast the anchor of repentnnce in the port of sincerity and justice,
whi.ch is the port of safety; lest the .tempest of our vengeance make
ol~~' perish in the sea of the punishment thou deservest."-:--T.AMERLANE.

'

d

I
.,

,,'>

io.

0

Dryden, in the following lines, describes the Supreme Being as
:nguishing the fire of London in accordance with the supplications
His people:I\\' "A hollow crystnl pyramid He takes,
· ' In firmamental waters dipped above;
; · Of this a broad extinguisher He makes,
And hoods the flames that to their quarry strove."

11.
- - -· " The Alps,
· The palaces of Nature, whose vast walls
·
Have pinnacled in clouds their snowy acalps."-NEWSPAPER ~oE'I'..
· 1:2. "There is n time when factions, by the vehemence of their own
entation, stun nnd disable one another."-BoLINGBltOKE.

J

"

........_
--

262

STYLE AND ITS VARIETIES.

STYLE AND ITS VAIUETIEB.

FAULTY HYPERBOLES.

14. "By every wind tha~ comes this way,
Send me at least 11 sigh or two ;
Such and so many I'll rcp:iy
As slrnll themselves make wrnds to get to
15. "All inmecl in brass, the richest dress of war,
(A dismal, glorious sight) ~1c shone afa1:.

The sun himself started with _sudden ~ngl~~'
To see his beams return so dismal bright. -CowLEY.
\Ve'll make foul weather with e~p1sc ears:
Our sighs and they, sh111l lodge the summer-corn,
'llS.·
And mnk~ a dearth in this revolting land."--SnAKSPEARE. .,
. f(l9

'k

--···_.___
LESSON LIV.
ITS

.

l,,
'I

lG. "Aumerle, thou weep'st, my ten<lder-1.ieadrttcd cousin!

AND

263

y.s to divide their various styles into different classes, as fol. ,Jows : the Dry, the Plain, the Neat, the Elegant, the Florid,
. the Simple, the Labored, the Concise, the Diffuse, the N erv:ous, and the Feeble. These we shall now consider, premi, sing that (with the exception of the Dry, the Labored, and the
,Feeble, which arc always to be avoided) they are appropriate
to different subjects, and must be selected by a writer with
reference to the matter he proposes to treat. It is obvious
. that the swelling style of an oration would be altogether out
. ~f place in a philosophical essay or an unpretending letter.
~s we define each, we shall note to what compositions it is
·a.dapted.
r

.
13. "The tackle of my heart is cracked and burnt;
And all the shrouds wherewith .my life. should sail
Are turned to one thread, one httle ha~r:
J\1 heart hath one poor string to stay it by,.
wliich holds but till thy news be uttereJ."--.':lJIAKSPEARt:.

STYLE

'

~

VARIETIES.
~i

§ 347. IF we examine the compositions of any two i~~.
viduals on the same subject, we shall generally find ~hat, ~p~
only do their respective scntimcn~s ~iffc_r, but also their~~~~

of expressing those sentiments. Tl11s lS DO more than D~t
ral. vV e must expect the thoughts and words of men to d~ffi
similarly with their actions and dispositions. Now, the pe~U·
liar manner in which a writer expresses his thoughts
me .
of words is called STYLE,-a word derived from the Latin stylUI
the name of a pointed steel instrument employed ~y the
Romans in writing on their waxen tablets. Y c~, wh1~e t~
mental peculiarities of most writers are apparent m. their ~10!
tion, there are some general distinctive features wl11ch eyta~

?Y

§ 347. On examining the compositions of two different persons on the same subj
what will we gcncrnlly find? Whnt Is style? From what Is tho word derived? ··,

~

' .'. § 348. rrhe difference between the first five of the styles
. ~umerated
e1:11ployed .

abov~,

'I

i1

consists chiefly in the amount of ornament

bl A dry style excludes ornament of every kind. Aiming only to be
"understood, it takes 110 trouble to please either the fancy or the e~r.
Buch a style is tolerable in didactic writing alone, and even there only
,eolidity of matter and perspicuity of language enable us to endure it.
·This is 130 generally felt that we have but few specimens of a purely dry
style. Aristotle's may be mentioned among the most striking; and, in
modern times, Berkley has perhaps approached it as nearly as any other
:writer.
plain style rises one degree above that last described. While the
. in writer is at 110 pains to please us with ornament, he carefully
~oids disgusting us with harshness. In addition to perspicuity, which
M~~ only aim of the dry writer, he studies precision, purity, and pro\ }~ty. Such figures as are naturally suggested and tend to elucidate
· meaning, he docs not reject; while such as merely embellish he
ll.oids as beneath his notice. To this class of writers Locke and Swift
·long.
,, !;t{ext in order is t!te neat style. Here ornaments are employed, but

l
.,.,l
:f

I•

i

) .

:A

,.I

,

ate th e principal vnr!cties of style. Ily what must n "-riter be guided in mnldng a
tlon between them?
. In what docs the difference between the first five of tbeso styles consist?
ibe the dry style. In what kind of writing alone is it tolernble? Whnt nuthors
,rd the most striking specimens of this style? Describe the plain style. Besides
piculty, whnt docs the plain writer study? What figures does he employ? What
ten\ belong to this cln.ss f What style Is next In order In point of ornament? De·

i

; {

:!

.J '
i

)'

'.

..
264

- STYLE AND ITS VARIETIE S.

STYLE AND ITS VARIETIES.

n ot those of the most elevnted or 8pnrkling kind; th ey nre nppropriali
and correct, r ath er than bold and glowi11 g. B ennty of composition ·ii
sought to be attained rath er by a judicious sel ection and nrrnugemed~
of w ords than Ly striking efforts of imagination. The sentences em.;
ploy ed are of moderate length, and carefully freed from superfluitiei. ·
This style is ndap ted to every species of writing ; to the letter, t~
essay, the sermon , th e law-paper, and even the most abstract tr e atise: ·'~
Ad vanciug a step, w e come to lite elegant stvle ; whi ch possesses atf
the b eauty that orn nmcnt can add, without an y of the drawbacks
arising from i ts improp er or excessive use. It rn ny Le r egard ed as th~·
p erfec tion of st.y lc. "An clegnut w ri ter," says Bla ir, "is one )VI\~ '
pleases the fan cy nnd the ear, while h e info rms th e und erstnnding -'an?
' ,,
who g ives us hi s ideas clothed wi th nil th e b eauty of expression, butrio
over clrn rged with nu y of its mi splaced fin ery." S nch n one pree!lll·
n ently is Addison; and such, though in n less degree, arc Pope, Tem·
ple, nnd Bolingbroke.
· .'.~
A flo rid stvle is one in which ornam ent is everywh ere cmploye
The t erm is used with a two-fold sign ifi cation :-for th e ornaments ma
spring from a luxu riant imagination and have a solid b as is of thought t
rest upon: or, as is too ofte n th e case, the luxmiance may be in wor~ ·
alono and not in fan cy; the brilli ancy may Le mer ely superficial,'
glittering tinsel , which, h owever much it may please the shallo-i/.
minded, cannot fail to disgust the judicious. As first defin ed, this sty1e
hu.s b een employed by several dist inguished writers wi th marked su';
ccss ; among th ese th e most pr omin ent is Ossian, wh ose poems consiaf.
almost entirely of b old and brilliant fi gures. But it is only writers of
transcendent g enius th at can thus indulge in co11(,i11u cd Ol'll:lm ent witli
any h ope of success. Inferi or minds inev itabl y fall in to th e seconlJ.!
kind of floridity alluded to ab ove, than whi ch n othing is more coll
temptible. Vi vidn ess of ima gination in the youn g often b etrays tlie~
int o this fault; it is one, ho wever, whi ch tim e ge nerally corrects, and'
which is ther efore t o b e preferred t o the oppos ite extr eme. "Lu '
rian ce," says Quintilian, " can easily be cured; but for barrenness thel'f
«!
is no r emedy."
Car eful revision is the b est means of correctin g nn over-florid style:

f _nnecessar! words must bo stricken out, and even tho whole sentence
·. l!:St sometimes be r emodelled.. On the ornamental parts, in particular, .
•· e·file must. be freely used. Figures which are not in all respects chaste
~~ approprrnte to the subj ect, must be unceremoniously removed. · To
~te fre quently on familiar themes will be found another effective
: .~ans of correcting excessive floridity. In such exercises, the inappro·. priateness of too much ornament will be obvious to the writer himself
\nd th~. effort made to r epress it will have a beneficial effect on all hi~
110mpos1t10ns.

265

·; § 349. 1'1tc simple nnd tlte labored style are directly op,,7sed t~ each other, the difference between them lying prin.~}pally rn th e structure of their respective sentences.
·' 1;'he simple write~ cxp'.esses himself so easily that the reader, before
.!!'akrng the attempt, 1mngmes he can write as well himself. His diction
bears 11 0 marks of art; it seems to be the very language of nature.
'!'he man of taste and good sense is unable to suggest.any change whereil!Y~he autl.1or ?o.uld have d ealt more properly or efficiently with his
lll~Ject. S1mphc1ty does not imply plainness; when ornaments are
~ted to th e subject, it adopts them, its chief aim being consistency with
atur~. ;r'h c best ~p ecimens of simplicity are afforded by the writers
:oJ·ant1qmty,-p~rticu~arly Homer, Herodotus, Xenophon, and Cresar;
,} the r eason is plam, because they wrote from the dictates of natal genius, and imitated n either the thoughts nor the style of others.
ong moderns, Goldsmith's writings are characterized by this quality
in .the high est d egree.
·
· '.: simplicit y ha~ing b een thus d efined at length, it is unnecessary to
aay much r esp ecting t~e. labored style, which is in all respects its reterse. The ch aracteristics of the latter are affectation, misplaced ornaJnent, a prep onderance of swelling words, long and involved sentences
. ~ a constrained tone, neither easy, graceful, nor natural.
. '

~· . ~ 350. Styles are distinguished as concise and diffuse, nc·
·cordmg as few or many words are employed by the writer to
express his thoughts.
1 Th

. wnter,
'
' ·
aunmg
to express himself in the briefest possie concise

0

'1

scrib e it. T o whnt var ieti es of composit ion ts lt ndnptcd ? ·wh nt is th o next style f
D esc ri be it. Wh nt does Illnir sny of th a elegant wri ter ? Wh nt nnl.h ors h nve excell
tn this sty le ? What is rn ennt by a Jlorltl sty le? State in whn t t wo senses this te~m'-"
used. As first defin eol, by whom has it been employed? \ Yhn t wr iters nl ono can hb'
to use it with su ccess ? In to \\· hat are in fer ior rn ln<ls thnt nltc111 pt it np t t ri fall? ·.,
nre oft en betrayed in to th is fnul t by vividness of Imagin atio n? Wh nt does QuinUllQ
my r especting luxuri nnce nnd banenn ess ? Wh at is th e best m enns of correotin"1t
onr-floricl style? ·what oth er men us is suggested ? Sh ow how It operates.

,5849. Wbnt fs the opposite of n simple style? In what doeg the difference between
m chi efly consist ? D eocri be th e diction of th e simpl e writer. What ornament.s
_. .s_he employ? Wh onffo rd t he best specimens of simplicity? Why? What modem
,ter possesses thi s quality in a blgb degree? What me the characteristics of the
~red style P
.
. S350. Whnt con sti t utes the differ en ce between the concise and the diffuse style?
1V does the con cl so writer express himself P How, the diffuse? When dQ both thcee

12

.

..

. .

. ..

j

I

266

STYLE AND ITS VAilIETIES.

EXEUCISE ON TllE VAUIETIES OF STYLE.

t?

I

·1
I

~

bfo manner, rejects as r edundant every thing. n~t material
~he s~nsir,
He presents a thought but once, and then In its most strik'.ng lig~~
His sentences are compact and stroug rather than harmomous, and
suggest more than they directly express.
The diffuse writer, on the other hand, presents hi s thoughts in.\
variety of lights, and endeavors by repctil ion to make him self perfectl)'. .
imd el'Btood. Fonrl of amplification, h e indulges in lu11g sentences,
making up by copiousness what ho lacks in strength.
'iii
Each of these styles has its beauties, and each becomes faulty when:
carried to excess. Too great conciseness produces abrnptness and olJ.:
scmity; while extreme diffuseness dilutes the thought, and makes bu~)
feeble imprcs~iun uu tho r eader. In decidi ng to which of these qual~
ties it is b est to incline in any particular instance, we should be con·
trolled by the nature of the subject. Discomscs inteucled for delivery
require 11 more copious style than matter which is to be printed nnd
r ead at leisure. When, as in the case of the latter, there is an oppoi'tunity of pausing and r eviewing what is not nt first · under stood, greater
brevity is allowable t han wh en the meaning hns to b e caught from the
words of a speaker, and is thus, if too tersely expressed, liable to be losl.
As a general thing, in descriptions, essays, and sublime nnd impassioned .
writing, it is safer to incline to concis·encss. The inter est is thus ke~·
alive, the attent~on is riveted'. and the r eader's ~incl finds. ngreeabl~ ~:
ercise in followmg out the ideas suggested, wi thout b erng fully ,Pr\.
sented, by the author.
The most concise, as well as the simplest, writers are found aniol!l
the ancients. Aristotle and Tacitus, above all others, are characterize'd
by terseness and brevity of expression; the form er, indeed, in a great' .
degree than propriety allows. The genius of our la11gnngc, ns we haye
already seen, is opposed to the pointed brev ity which constitutes i
'~e
principal charm of the. classics. ,".e sl'. all ther~fore fin cl com~arat.i"..
few specimens of concise compos1t1on rn our literature ; wlule, on t
contrary, we can boast of many writers, who, in elegant diffuseness,
not compare unfavorably with Cicero, the great model of antiquity,, ~
this variety of style.

§ 351. The nervoils and the fe eble style
styles become faulty? Wb at result.a from too grcnt conciseness? What, from ex
diffuseness ? In deciding, in any particulnr instnnc 0. to w1'i.ch it is best to incline,
whnt should we be controlled? Which of th ese sty lcs is rccomm endc<l for matter.
Is to be spoken, and on what grounds? ·which Is the better for snblime and .Im ,
sioncd writing, nnd wby? Wh ere must wo look for tho most concise writers! ·.,
two, in particular, are m entioned? Wblcb of these styles does th o genius of ont .1'1
guage favor?
'

267

.iSp,ectively a strong and a slight impression on the reader or
, Jt~~rer.
..>(·

They are by some consid ered synonymous with the diffuse and the

tonci~c, but not properly; for, however much the latter qualities may

icontnbute to produce th e f~rmer, there are instances of a feeble brevity
as well_ as a nervous copwusness. When considering the essential
. p1:oper lws uf style: we shnll have occasiuu to treat of strength, and it
. ~ill theu 11ppca~· m w~1.1t that quality consists. Meanwhile, we may
.say that umncanrng epithets, vngue expressions, and improper arrangc.:-ments of words an<l clauses, are to b e aYoided, as inevitable somces of
weakncsR.

--.--·---LESS .ON

LV.

EXERCISE ON THE VARIETIES OF STYLE.

", BRrnF examples of the principal styles described in the last
i~sson are presented below. The judicious writer aims at
. } ariety in his compositions; and hence, though a work, as a
~hole, may have a prevailing tone or manner, it does not fol. ·pw that successive sentences are so distinguished. We can
therefore bettor exemplify the different styles by short pas·~ges ~han by lengthy extracts. Besides pointing out .the
peculiarities which lead us to characterize these extracts as
~y, elegant, florid, &c., show what figures occur, and name
m; also, supply the omitted points.
DRY STYLE.

': The Sceptic.- Whether the principles of Christians or infidels arc

~est may be made a question but which are safest can be none

Certainly if you doubt of all opi~io?s you must doubt of your own a~d then
for aught you know the Chnst11111 may be true. The more doubt the
m?re room th?re is for faith a sceptic of all ~en having · the least right
.to .demand evidence. But whatever uucertamty there may be in other
mts thus much is certain either there is or is not a God there is or is
l:•'

§ 851. What styles remain to be considered? With what are they by some conered synonymous? Show why this Is not a correct view. What ure to be avoided
I!' Inevitable son recs of weak ncs.~?
· ·
'

268 .

EXERCISE ON THE VARIETIES OF STYLE.

EXERCISE ON THE VARIETIES OF STYLE.

not a revelation man either is or is not nn agent the soul is or is not
immortal. If the negatives nre 11ot ~nrc the nflirmativ cs nre possible.
If th e negatives are improbable the affirmat iv es nre probable. In proportion as any of 3'.our rngenious men find s himself un able to pr?ve any .
one of these negatives h e hath grounds to snspect he may be mistaken. .
A minute philosopher therefore that would act a consiste nt part should
have the diffidence the modesty and the timidity ns well as the doubts
of a sceptic.-BERKLF.Y.

A mnn severe he was and stern to view
I kn ew him well ~nd every truant knew.
'Yell ha~ th.e bodm~ tr~rnblers .learned to trace
'Ihe day s disasters 111 lus mormng's face
Full wel.I ~hey la ughed with counterfeited glee
At nil Im JOkes for many a joke had he
Full w ell th e busy whisper circling round
.Conveyed th ~ di s rn a~ tidings when he frowned
Yet he was kmd or if severe in aught
'l:lrn l~ve he Lore to learning was a fault.
!!1e v11loge .oil declared how much he knew
'I was ccrtam he could write and eii;>her too
Lands, he could measure t erms and tides presag e
And e e!1 the story ran that he could gauge
In arg umg too the parson owned his skill
For.e'en though vanquished he could argue still
While words of learned length and thundering sound
Amnze~l the gazing rustics ranged around
~nd still they gazed and still the wonder grew
Ihnt one small head could carry all he knew ·
D~1t past is all hi.s fame th.e very spot
·
"here many a trme h e tnumphed is forgot.-GOLDSMITH.

•

Ef,EGANT STYLE.

Reflections in lVc.stminster Abbey. -When I look upon the tombs of
the great every emotion of envy dies in me wh en I r ead the epitaphs of ·
tho beautiful every inordinate desire goes out wh.en I meet ;vith the
grief of parents upon a tombstone my heart melts with compass10n when
I see the tomb of the parents themselv es I consider the van ity of grieving
for those whom we must quickly follow. Wh en I see kings lying by
those who d eposed th em when I consid er rival wits pl need side by side
or the holy men that divided the world with th eir contests nnd disputes
I r efl ect with sorrow and astonishment on the little competitions factions
and debates of mankind. Wh en I read the severnl dates of the tombs
of some that died y esterd ay and some six hundred years ago I consider
that great day when we shall all of us be contemporaries !l.lld make our.
appearance together.-Aoo1soN.

269

LABORE D STYLE.
FLORID STYLE.

The Flowery Greation.-The snowdrop foremost of the lovely train
breaks h er way through the frozen soil in ord er to present her early
compliments to her lord dressed in th e robe of innocency she steps forth;
fearless of danger long before the trees have ventured to unfold their
leaves even while t he icicles are pendent on our houscs. -Next pee~
out the crocus but cautiously and with an air of timidity. She hears
th e howling blasts and skuiks close to her low situation. Afraid she
seems to make large excm sions from h er root while so many ruffian
winds are abroad and scouring along the ::cther.-Not• is th e violet lasi,
in this shining embassy of the year whi ch with all the cmbellishmenf;
th at would grace a r oyal garden co nd es~nds to line our h edges an,d
grow at the fee t of briers. Freely and without any solicitations she dUt ributes the bounty of he1· emissi \'e sweets while h erself with an exem·
plary humility retires from sight seeking rnth er to administer pleas~
than to win admiration emblem expressive emblem of those modest vittues which delight to bloom in obscurity which extend a ch eering infltt•
ence to multitudes who arc scarce acquainted wi th the source of thetr
comforts motive engaging motive to th at ever-activ e benefi cence which
stays not for the importunity of the distressed but anticipates their suii
and prevents them with the blessings of its goodn ess ! - H ER VEY.
• ...

i ,.,.

SIMPLE STYLE.

The Village Schoolmaster.
Beside yon straggling fence that sk irts the way
With blossomed furze unprofitably gay
Thero in his noisy mansion skilled to rule
The villnge master taught hi s littl e school

; Th( 7 ood Housewif.e.-N ex.t unto h er sanctity and holiness of life it
t iat our E11~hsh housewife bo n woman of great modesty and

i{! mee

rnpernr!ce as wcll mwardly as outwardly inwardly as in h er heh ·
·,and carriage. towards h er husband wh erein she shall shun all viofev~~r
of rage. passion and hu.mor coveting less to direct than to be directed
. ~ppe~rm g ev.er unto him pleasant amiable and delightful and though
occas10n of mishaps or the misgovernment of his will m
· d
h t
,;f,ontrary th oughts yet virtuously to suppress them and ~~i:h au'::ilder :.
erance ra ther to call him hom e from .his error than with the stren s~h
fl.( Unger to abate the least spark of his evil calling into her mind tfat
andtuncomely language is d eformed though uttered even to servants
u mos monstrous an~ ugly when it appears before the resenee of a
.us~and outw~rdly as m her apparel and diet both which ~he shall ro}>9rt~on accor.drng to the competency of h er husband's estate and calfin
~a~ng her circle rather straight than large for it is a rule if we exten~ .
u · t e utt~rmost we tak~ away i.ncrease if we go a hair's breadth beyond
:f,6.enter. mto consumpt10~ but If we preserve any part we build stron
~ortsh agarnst t he ad~ers:m es of fortune provided that such preservatio!
~ onest and consc10nable.-1IIARKHAM.

;rt

'1

CONCISE STYLE.

'· st;:ies.-;:ome books are to be tasted others to be swallowed and
IOme. ew to e chewed and digested that is some books are to be read
onl~ mhparts other~ to .~e r ead but not curiously and some few to be
rea w olly and with diligence and attention. Some books also ma be
~ad 1by. deputy an~ extracts made of them by others but that w!uld
on 7 i.n the less Important arguments and the meaner sort of books
else d11st1lled books are like common distilled waters flashy things.

270

ESSENTIAL rROPERTIES OF STYLE.

Reading maketh a full man conference n ready man and writing an exnct man and therefore if a man write little he had need have a great .
memory if he confer little he had need have a present wit and if he read'"
little he had need have much cunning to seem to know what he doth.
not.-BACON.
NERVOUS STYLE.
" ) '·,
1
On t!te linpeachment of Warren Hastin.r;s.-In the course of all this '- .
proceeding your lordships will not fail to observe he is never corrupt
but he is cruel he never din es with comfort but where he is sure to create a famine. He never robs from the loose superfluity of standing ...
greatness he devours the fall en the indigent the ncce8sitous. His extortion is not like the generous rapacity of the princely cngle who snatehelj
away the living struggling prey he 1s a vulture who feeds upon the pros·
trate the dying and the dead. As his cruelty is more shocking than his
corruption so his hypocrisy has something more frightful than his
cruelty. For whilst his bloody and rapacious hand signs proscriptions
ai1d sweeps away the food of the widow and the orphan his eyes over· ·
flow with tears and he eonverts the healing balm that bleeds from
wounded humanity into a rancorous and deadly poison to the race of
man.-DURKE.

PURITY.

271

. ~~· § ~53. PurrITY consists in the use of such words and construct10ns a~ properly belong to the genius of the language.
· .~ It ~ay be v10lated; therefore, in two ways: first, by the Bar: b.ansm, or use of a~ impure word ; and, secondly, by the Sole. ~ ~1srn, or use of an impure construction. Of these faults there
.~re several varieties.

:;; § 354. Barbarisms.-These consist of,
.;,, I. Obsolete words; that is, such as have gone out of
- \" Among ~hese we
affected writers:-

m~y mention the following, sometimes employed by

Behest, command.
Bewray, betray.
.Erst, formerly.
Irks, wearies.
Let, hinder.
Peradventure, perhaps.

Quoth, said.
Sith, sinee.
Stroam, roam. ·
lVhilom, of old.
Wist, knew.
Wot, know.

Whatever these and similar words may have been in the days of our

forefa~hers, they .cannot no-; be regarded as pure English. ·They' are
LESSON LVI.
ESSENTIAL PROPERTIES OF STYLE.-PURITY.-PROI'RIETY.

.I
.i

§ 3S2. IT has been observed that the peculiarities of ind~'li
vidual minds, appearing in their respective styles of compos~­
tion, give rise to the varieties enumerated in the last lesson.
In some, this peculiarity of manner is so decided that the · ~µ. ·
thor, even when he writes anonymously, is easily recognize",
Such marked individuality of style, adhered to by an authqt
throughout his compositions, is known as niannerism. Whitt
these peculiarities of diction are by no means forbidden •b
the rules of composition, there are certain properties which: .
every style ought to possess. These are seven in numq~r ·
Purity, Propriety, Precision, Clearness, Strengt.h, Harmony:,
·1
an d U m"ty.
•' r~".
§ 352. From whnt do tho rnriclles of sty lo tnko their rise?
·what is m eant by tho t'Ssnntial properties of style? :Mention them.

.s?metimes u.scd m. poe.try, rn burlesques, and in narratives of ancient
ti~es, to which, bemg ~n keeping with the characters and objects de·~ribed~ :hey are peculiarly appropriate; but in all other varieties of
~-ompos1twn they .should · be carefully avoided. Analogous to this fault
.is tha~ of employrng a word in good use with an obsolete signification.
~us m the days of Shakspeare the verb owe often had the meaning of

own:-

.
~~"

"Th(lu dost here nsurp
The name thou owest (ownest] not."

• ~~ .The writ.er who should, at the present day, use owe i~ this sense
'Y~uld be gmlty of a barbarism.
·
1

}". II. ~ ewly-coined words; or such as find their way into
opve~sat10n ~nd newspap~rs, but are not authorized by good
sage , as obligate, for oblige; deputize, for commission, &e.
..;;What we are to regard as good usage will be explained hernafter. · .
' § 853. In .what does purity consist? Ia how many ways may It bo violated? What
µie barbarism? ·wbat, tbc solecism?
.§ 354. What is the first vnrioty of barbarism? Mention some of tb
bs l t .
.
o o o e e words
~lonnlly UR <l I
ff t.c
•
. :e 'Y n cc · c1 writers, ancl give their modern equivalents. In what varieties of writing l\ro th ey sometimes used with propriety? What fault is nnalo ous to
l!ils f · lllus.trnte
!Ids with the verb cnce as used In SI k
WI
·
g
"""cl
f l b ·
'
in spcnre.
iat is the second
.... es o •nr nrism? ·what writers ftro at liberty to coi'n w or ds,• II ow must the

I~

272

I

~

PURITY.

PURITY.

A writer_who is unfolding the principles of a new science, and who ·
is thus destitute of words with .which to express his meaning, is at lih;erty to coin such terms as he needs. He must do it, however, with cau;
tion, and must first satisfy himself that there is no suitable word already
in the language. In such cases, recourse is generally had to Latin and
Greek, particularly the latter; and etymological analogies must be r~~
garded in the process of formation.
:1
With this exception, the coining of words is strictly prohibited; and
the judicious writer will avoid, not only such terms as have been thus · ·
recently formed, but also those which, though invented years ago by ·
authors of note, have not been received into general use. It had been ·
better for our language, perhaps, had this principle in Inter times been
more carefully followed. We should thus have avoided such cumbro~
words as nurnerosity, cognition, irrcjragability, and hundreds like them,
whose meaning can be as accurately, and far more intelligibly, conveyed
by words in existence long before they were invented. With some
writers, the coining of these Latin deri rntivcs seems to hnve been a
passion. Saxon they r eserved for conversation; th eir compositions they
deemed it necessary to adorn with ponderous Latin. The forme1· was
their natural idiom; the latter, their labored after-thought. Dr. John:
son was their great leader, respecting whom an an ecdote is relate~. ,
which strikingly illustrates this propensity. Speaking, on one occasion,'
of" The Rehearsal," he said, "it has not wit enough to k eep it sweet;",
then, after a pause which he had employed in translating this thought
into his latinized dialect, he added, "it has not sufficient virtue to pr&:
serve it from putrefaction."
:.ii ·
As our language now st·andg, it is nlntndnntly copious for all pu~
poses; and not only is the coining of new words inadmi ssible, but we .
should also, ns 'we have seen, avoid the frivolous nnd unnecessary inn9"
vn.tions of others. The only latitude allowed is in the formation of comt
pound words by the union of two or more simple ones with the hypheU:
whereby lengthy circumlocutions are sometimes avoided; but ·even
here care must be taken to combine only such as naturally coalesq,e;
are clearly understood, and convey an idea which no word already exis~
ing bears. Thus, stand-point is an unobjectionable compound; but si<Je;
hill is not to be tolerated as long as !till-side continues in good standing.

,.,.
privilege be exercised? In such cases, to what Jangnnges Is recourse generally bad'P
What must be regarded in tho process of formation? With this exception, what is 1!814
of tho coining of words? llad this principle been gcnernlly followed, what cumbrobi
words would we have avoided? What is snid of the passion of some writers for L6UI
derivatives? Illnstrnto this with an anecdote of Dr. Johnson. In what may' soine.
latitude ho allowed? Even h ere, what mnst bo ob~crved? Illnstrnto this, Wbat'fa

273
IIL Foreign • words.
These a:e to be rejected, when
·there are pure English
words wbwh express the thought
:; qually well.

. , <;}:, ·

,· f . As in f?rmcr years there was a passion for Latin, so at the resent
.time there is n. great fondness for French. and G ll. .
P
· 'd'
f
.
'
a ic1sms, or words and
• . 1 ioms . ~om this language, are abundantly interlarded in the current
,compos1t10ns of the day. Some of these expressions such as ennu. h
. ,de combat, &c., express the idea intended more acc~ratel th
~~ ors
. ·' be conveyed by any pure native word or phrase. and we~ a~ ~h can
fore, prohibit their use. In the case of the followi
h
an no ' ereti
ng, owever and many
oth
ers, ierc nrc corresponding English word
11
' •
·
J..
•
.
s equa Y expressive · and
t:Y usrng t 1!Cl!' foreign substitutes, we only incur the im t t'
'f a'
' ntry.
pu a ion o pe •

,,

'f;- Amende honorable, apology.
l'i· Apropos, np~ropriate.

Fougiee, turbulence.
Fraicheur, coolness.

Jl .

Hauteur, haughtiness.
Hant ton, people of.fashion.
Narvete, simplicity.
N'importe, no matter.
u
1vous
vcrrons, we shall see.
p
ar excellence, pre.-eminentlJ\
Politesse, politeness.
\

"t..

Bagatelle, tr1fl e.
Beau .111ond11, fashionable world.
Canaillc, rabble.

· c.oup d' etat,
·
stroke of state policy

'tJ! '
. r. . .

IJelica. tcssc, dclicncy.
last resort.
Erneutc, disturbance.

.L ]), ernicr r~sort,
i

·r

·

· ·· IV
P r~vm.cia
· · l words; that is,
· such as are employed in
. .
h ,
partwular d1stncts, but are not in general use Th
hol .
·
us, C UCtC·
. e m s?~e localities denotes a steep hole in a wagon
t.

.r .

.and cliujjy m Sussex and Kent means surly: but such rud'
cannot
pr oper·IY b e mtro
.
d uced. mto
.
wor s
,,
composition.

·~" § 355. Solecisms.-As above defined, a solecism is a devia-

.ljon fr~m the proper construction of words. It appears in
~any different forms, as follows :~!t"' I. Syntactical errors. All violations of the rules of S t
·t ·n d
h.
yn ax
,~a.:. un er t is head. Some of the principal of these we h~ve
al~eady considered in § 2 I 6-229.
J. II. Phrases which, when looked at grammatically,
convey
;ilie third variety of barbarism? For what fs a fondness manifested b

,
1he present dny? What are gnllicisrns? What fo said of some of tl y mnnyh \Hlters at
d ho1'8 de combat P WI
h
iem, sue 11.'l ennui
Jw th
f F
.
ien t ere nre corresponding Eu glish expressions, what effect
e use o ' r<'nch worrls? Rcp!'nt th o list of French "·ords often u
illelr English equivalent~. \Vhnt is the fourth species of bnrhnrism? G' scd, and giV4
§ 8l55. Whnt ls n sol eci•m ? \YI t .
1ve examples.
•
1a JS th e firs t form in whi ch it appears? What tho
d? E
. ·.
'
n
xcrnphfy it. 'Vhnt, t!Je third? Glye illustrations.
]'.t it

_,..

a different meaning from that intended~ as, " He ~ings a good!·
song," for "He sings well." A good song ma.y be Il~ su~g, and•,
therefore the grammatical meaning of the sentence. IS chffer~nt·
from that which it is made to bear. Similar solecisms are lll·
volved in the expressions, "He tells a good story," "He ~lay~i
'

' l

a good fiddle," &c.
"-!
III. Foreign idioms: such as," He knows to sing," for" H~;
knows how to sing;"-" It repents me," for "I repcnt,1' &c. :;r
§ 356. In § 354 we spoke of words not authorized b! good
usage; it becomes necessary to inquire i~to the meamng o~
this expression. It is evident that usage IS the only standar!1
both of speaking and writing; that it is the highest tribun~ ·
to which in cases of grammatical controversy, we can appea
'r uis ho;ycvcr, cau 110t 1Jc the c:isc with all us~gc; if it were,
we U:ight with propriety defend the grossest violations of ·~Or•
thography and syntax, for which abundant precedents can . be'.
found. That .usage alone must be regar<leJ as a standf~ .·

which is,
.
. I. R eputable, that is, authorized by the majority of writers
in good repute: not such as are most meritorious, because,;?.1'
this point individual views may disagree i but tho~e wh?i
merit is generally acknowledged by the world, respectmg w~~
there can be little diversity of opinion.
'' ·
U. National, as opposed to provincial and foreign. : :~ ..
The ignorant naturally regard the limited district in which they:li'
us the world at large, and all that it authorizes as correct. The le .
are apt to conceive a fondness for foreign tongues, and to tra~~~
thence peculiarities of diction into their ow~ verna~ular.. T~us or1 ,
provinci al and foreign usage, neither of which carries with it any.ff
of authority.

III. Present, as opposed to obsolete.

275

PURITY.

PURITY.

I

____

The

•T
author~~r'
'

ll

old writers, however great their fame, can not be admitted in
:· ~pport of a term or expression not used by reputable authors
. of.later date.
,j,

J!f. § 357. We

umfor:n ; that rn, that respectable authors can be produced on
J>oth sides of a question, in support of two different forms of
~xpression, respecting which there is controversy.
In this
.case, we can not characterize either as barbarous; yet between
~em we have to select : and it is the provirn;ie of criticism to
~tablish principles by which our choice may be directed.
' lteference is here made to controverted points· not to those
. ~iff:rences iu words and constructions which ar; not questions
q~_nght and wrong, but allowable variations of expression.
•..

_ f~' ·111
1

doubtfnl cases, the following rules will be found of service:-

•; I. When usage. is divided as to any two words or phrases, if either
ll}Fer useu rn a different scuse from the one iu question while the other
!\~ot, employ the latter.
Thus, to express consequently, the two phrases
:.~" ~onseq~tence and of co'.iscquence are employed. The former is prcfera~le, because the express10n of consequence may also mean of rnoment, of
liiiportance.
·
II. In the forms .of words, consult the analogies of the language.

..'!-8• conternporary 1s preferable to cotemporary; because, in words
., pounded with con, the final n, though expunged· before a vowel or
'l!!_Ute, is generally retained before a .c onsonant: as, coincide, co!teir
, ~tant.
e h ave, indeed, an exc~ption,
copartner; in which:
~;.gh the radical commences with the consonant
the final n of ~on
·oqutted: b~t in doubtful cases we must be guided by the rule, and
~~ exception.
· . .

1:

in

p;

. · -. When there are several different forms in other ~espects ~qua)
· ;" ought to be preferred whi.c h is most agreeable to the ear. Thu~
leness and amiability are both conect and authorized words, formed
rding to the analogies of the language; but, under this rule, the lat_eing the more harmonious, should have preference.

. r ,When there is doubt, if either of the words or .expressions -in
, .•.. ' . ..., •. ·i

l

,.. § 356. What is the only standard of speaking and writing? Why may we .
ga.r d all usnge as a stnndard? To be so regarded, what three essential qu11llt18'
usnue possess? ·what is meant by reputable usage? Why nro not merltorlou4
tha~ 1·eputnble, authors selected as standards? What is meant by national~
Show h ow provincial no el foreign usage originate. To what is present usage
llow far may the authority of old writers be admitted?
·. ' -~

~ometimes find, however, that good usage is not

...,,.
.
. . . "'•1 ••
, .. " .
,1 !JWhat ·do we sometimes find with respect to good usag~ 1." .in tbi~~ ~. to .
11Bt we have recourse? Give the substance of the first rule, and lllustr11.~ it.
, . the forms of words, what must we consult? Exemplify this with the word
~rary. · Other things being equal, which form of a word, according
the
ti~~

:to·

'.

•
276

PROPRIETY.

EXERCISE ON PURITY A.ND PROPRIETY.

question would seem, from its etymological form, to have a significatio:g
different from that which it commonly bears, we should reject it. Thu&,
loose and unloose are both used to denote the same idea. Since, how:f ·
.ve the meaning of the <lical t
l se ould
ever, tl. ie pr efi x un neg a tl. s
ra
, o un oo w
etymologically signify to fasten, to tic, and we should therefore, in all
CllSCR, gi;-c the preferen ce to loos".

§ 358. Th e secon d essen tial r1uality of style is

olmrv

mc:ming i aml i11 Cllll 'lo_yiug 1rnrda
only iu such acceptations as arc authorized by good usage. ~ a 11 u

Vulgarisms are out of place in every variet.y of composi tion except '
low burleR<pes. Under this head are included, not only coarse expr
sions, such as, "to t·u rn U"
r one's nose at any thing," but also words w~}..
.. .
are proper enough in conversation but not sufficiently dignified for composition. The latter are technically calle<l colloquialisms ; "by dint~?
argument," "not a whit better," "to get a disease," will serve as exa
ples. Young writers naturally express themselves in writing as the
would in speaking. Hence colloquialisms, unless they exercise greij-·
care, will ·constantly occur in their compositions.
The second fault which violates Propriety is the confounding of '
dred derivatives, in the case of which the writer is misled by the ?ti
semblance in the appearance of the words, though the difference betw
their r espective meanings may be so great that they can hardly be reg ~
ed as synonymes. Thus, from false we have three nouns formed, which'
too often used without proper discrimination,-falseness, falsity,
fals ehood. The following distinction should be observed in their use.
fals eness is fl<J.Uivalent to the want of truth, and is applied to pe
only: falsity and fals ehood are applied to things alone; the form~r .
notes that abstract quality which may be defined as contrariety tr/f '
the latter is simply an untrue assertion. 1Ve speak of the falseniu
one who tells falsehoods, and expose the falsity of his pretensions.~
So, observation and observance are often confounded. The radi ·
:..!

I

I
'· I

I

...

•'

third rule, should be preferred? Give the substance of the fourth rule, and appif.'
the cnse of loose and unloose.
§ 358. What is the second essential quality of style? Io what does prop
sist? Where alone are vulgarisms admissible? Whnt are included und11r ·~
What writers are apt to fall into colloquialisms ? Whnt is the second fuult ,
!ates propriety? Give th e three nouns derived from false,· show the propef(
tion, and illnstrate tho use, of each. Define the two derivatives from the vei~
f!
~ ~.

"fi

277

b

e, s1gm es. oth_ to. note, to mark, and to keen, to celebratA. In i"ts
form
t t
r
~·tt er aceep a Ion, It gI ves rise to the verbal noun observation · in 1"ts
f
'
1a er, to observance "\Ve sa "
·'• h
·
y, a man obser·vat:on," not observance·/! t e observance [not observationJ of the S bb th ,,
,
II. ~ a,onscience
·
a a ·
and consciousness are thus distinguished. the ,.
.
the rn nr oJ
J• I
.
.
1ormer 18

°

0

. . . Id J·"' '11 ,;c• w i1c l ,1J,cr·r 11 ., li e twc0n r igl1t 1111 11 -wrn1w. tl1 c Liller
0
· C1> 111.H•c f.1on
.
-is. s1rnp
., . ..1· ;:11011"lcd"c
,.., ' ,•1,,, u·'c' J lll
wit.lt ECrisations' 0 1· mental
91Jcr.ttwn-.
JJry<lcn , Ll11•1d• Jrt', ,-i"lal('s .l'ro1irict.,· iu tl
r
.•
.c.ouplet : J
ie w 11on rng

wh ieh co nsis ts in avn i<1ing 1nil:;rrrism.•; 1 or uudig11itie d awl low
expr!'::::::im1R j in Plton::<i11g corrt.e ct.l y heLween word8 forrned fr om:~~~~. .
tlw 8amc raclical, 11l1ich resemble ead1 other i 11 a1•1 1c arauce, but

<liffc r iu applica Li1111

·

11

-

,

,

"The sn·cctcs t '" '1hl we re,.,.; "" nt in't
ls con.t?cienct3 of v i rti1ous neti vns pas.t.','

~\ ry11!/ o u·c 1s often irnprn p crlv me<l 1;,r nr'llcct Tl f .
.
1
1
;;:.~: ~ ;es~~. .:._'.'. tttc't" ~n net.. "His 1:ef1ligcnce
·the ~ourc:r, /~ ~nl~:~ :is ~
·,.
.
B } lll s n eglect h e lo~ t the op portuuity. "

11

0 1

was

In . '.k c I~ami: 1 " sophi sm an<l .~ophistry are npt to be confoun de <l. The
· mg
~rroer
argument·' the latt c1'. a [·a 11 ac1ous
·
· "rsG0a .fallae10us
.
course of renson·
' gias, ~vho was noted for his sophistry, then had recourse to
8
,ansparent sop/mm."
The thirdfiiult th.at violates Propriety is the employment of a word
_,a ~ensc not a.utlwnzcd Ly good usage; as when we say a road is imacticlab:e, f~r impassable; or .speak of decompounding a mixture instead
ana yzing It.
'

.~

1

LESSON LVII.
EXERCISE ON PURITY AND PROPRIETY.

of Purity and Propriety m the
J'.

• •

PURITY.

~~o;~~'psr~~~~f~ot;
~~iewhrle1setehdasfan
uhn~oubted right, and hast ·so
. .
rom Im would b ft
2. The rehgwn of these people a
ll th . e agran m-

ti•~e.

" ' e:s, were strangely misre resentea' s we

as . eir customs and

~nster, sitting the Parlianfent was ·.IJ 3. Removrn~ the term from
had quite transmogrified him ' 5 Thi egk~l. 4. This change of for."

·

·

e

rng soon found reason to

~

' nstrate their .use. Show the difference b t
~ Dryde n violate propriety by the usee ~;et~n ~On8cience ancl consciousness.
· n' ne(lliyence and ne(!lect . b . t
.
ie ormer? Define the difference
'":~?!rd fault that violates ~ro~r7e~~~ sophism and sopMstry. Define an1l Illus,~

"

"

278

I

~

.I
l

.i
(

EXERCISE ON PUilITY AND rnornIETY.

PRECISION.

repent him of pTovoking such dangerous enemie~. G. The popular lords~
did not foil to enlarge themselves on the subject. 7. I shall endeavorj
to live hereafter suitable to a man in my station. 8. It was thought1 "
that the coup d'etat would have occasioned an cme~de.
9. The derniei
resort of the emperor will be to make the amende honorable ; but noitB' .
verrons. 10. The queen, whom it highly imported that the two monarchs'
should be at peace, acted the part of m ediator. 11. The wi sest princes!
need not think it any diminution to their greatness, or derogation t01
their sufficiency, to rely upon counsel. 12. He b ehaved himself con~1
formable to that blessed example. 13. I should be obliged to him, if he1
will gratify me in that particular. 14.. May is ziar excellence the month•' ·
of flowers; it is delicious at this season to go stroami11g about the fields.' .
15. You can't bamboozle me with such flimsy excuses. lG. I hold that· ,'.
this argument is irrefragable. 17. \Vhcthcr one person or more was"
conc·erned in the business, does not yet appear. 18. The conspiracy
was the easier discovered from its bc-ing known to m::wy. 119. These
feasts were celebrated to the honor of Osiris, whom the Greeks called
Dionysius, and is the same with Bacchus. 20. Such a sight was enough
to dumfounder an ordinary man. 21. This will eventuate in jeopardi·
zing the w.hole party. 22. Firstly, he has conducted matters so illy
that his fellow countrymen can hereafter repose no confidence in him.
23. All these things requiro<l abundance of finesse and delicatesse to
manage with advantage. 24. When I rnade some 1i propos r emarks upon .
his conduct, he began to quiz me; but he had better have let it alone. .
25. A large part of the meadows and cornfields was overflown. 26.
Having finished my chores befure sundown, I lit a fir e. 27. The
pleasures of the understanding are more preferable tl1an those of the;
senses. 28. Virtue confers the supremest dignity ou man, and should
be his chiefest desire. 29. Temperance and exercise are excellent prer~
ventatives of debility. 30. I admire his amiableness and candidness.
31. It grieves me to think with what ardor two or three eminent personages have inchoated such a course.
PROPRIETY,

. i

I'

1. Every year a new flower, in hi& judgment, beats all the old ones;
though it is much juferior to them both in color nnd shape. 2. The
[ceremonious, or ceremonial!) law is so called in contradistinction .to the
mornl and the judicial law. 3. Come often; do not be [ceremonious, or,
ceremonial 1}. 4. Meanwhile the Britons, left to shift for themselv~l
were forced to call in the Saxons to their aid. 5. Conscience of integ•.
rity supports the misfortunate. · 6. Ilis name must go down to posteritjt
wit h distinguished honor in the public records of the nation. 7. Eve11
thing goes helter-skelter and topsy-turvy, when a man leaves his · buSl· .
ness to be done by others. 8. The alone principle ;-a likely boy ;:._he
is considerable of a man ;-the balance of them ;-at a wide remove;1 expect he did it ;-I learned him the lesson ;-to fall trees ;-he co •
ducts well ;-like he did ;-we started directly they came ;-I feel ,"u~
though ;-equally as well. 9. What [further, or farther 1) need have
we of caution? 10. Still [further, or farth er?], what evidence hav.e
of this? 11. We may try hard, and still be [further, or farther!] frol!l'.
success than ever. 12. If all men were exemplary in their colid~c~
things would soon take a new face, and religion receive a mighty"' e ' ·
1
courugcm ent. 13. A reader can often see with half an eye what aili

279

sentence, when its author is unable to discover n . .
,
passed his time at the court of St J
. a ,.Y m1st~ke. 14. He
t
·
ames, currymg 1:wor with th
· ·
l~· 01~.[ 0 i~e br~ve [act, or action 1] often turns the fortune ofe i:~~::­
ou~ UI "ac. s, o1. act10ns ?] generally proceed from instinct or im ulse :
17 acL'. o, actwns ?] are more frequently the result of delib pt' '
• earnrng and arts were but then getting up 18 0
. . era b10nd.
fix that hns to spend a rain da in tl
.
. . ne is Ill a a
d r~ c~uhti;y. It IS enough to give
lnost people tho blues' l~
20. It is difficult for o;;e un~ccusatomlede to avel~otten a broken head.
'
d ·
.
'
[sop usm or soph · t •] t
asuccee i.n a [soplusm, or sophistry 1]. 21o Th'
.r,'
is ry' o
. t .1sdpe1 orrna~ce was much
at one with the other. 22 I had
store by him 23 If
·
ha gna mm to tell him that I set
·
·
we can not eat our d
·
·h
.
should at least not allow them to get the upp:r v~rsd1ef WI~ lo!l'1c, we
of temper and properness of behavior.
an o us In m!ldness

f

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- ~Y.
:·1~

~;.

LESSON LVIII.

. ;.

PRECISION.

/•.'
third essential property of style i's p
Th. § 359. TuE
.
.
RECISION.

term is dcnved from the Latin pracidere, to cut off;
,a~d the pr.operty so called consists in the use of such
d
r.-- ·
I
.
wor s
~s ~xact y convey the meaning and nothi.ng
S
11
more.
uppose
'
.
"
•
w.~ mean to say, Cmsar displayed great courage on the batt e-field ".; were we. ~o use fortitude instead ~f courage, we
shpuld .violate P~·ec1s10~, because the former quality is disp~ayed m su~portmg parn, the latter in meeting dange~. ··' we
~ould b~' gurlty of .the same fault, if we were to employ both
!"?rds,- Cresar displayed great courage and fortitude on
~,e battle-field,"-because it would be saying more than
ean.
we
·: IS

),

'' §. 360.
Precision
is most freq-uently violated by
•
•
•

t f
a wan o
the use of synonymous terms ,. as m
· th e example above, when fortitude is substituted for courage. . One
(Ji

. s~nmmat10n m

we.

a

§ 859. What ls the third essential property of style? Fro
I t · ti
d ·
m w rn 1s 1e word pre" n e~:vec1 ? I~ what does the quality so called consist? Illustrate this with the
tence,

9860.

Cre5nr <l1~plnyed great courage on the bnttle-field."
How is precision most frequently violated? Wh en Is one wor d said to be the

- -lit'---280

PRECISION,

word is said to be the synonyme of another, when it means th~ . ·
same thing or nearly the same : as, enough, and sz~[Jicient <;
a.ctive, brisk, agile, and nimble. In such synonymous terms
our language abounds, in consequence of its having received
additions from many different sources. ·while a very few of
these differ so imperceptibly that they may be regarded ~s
almost identical in signification, by far the greater part are
distinguished by delicate shades of meaning; and their dis·
criminate use at once denotes the scholar and imparts the
finest effect to composition.
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The habit of using words accurately b egets the
accurately; the student, therefore, when in the net of composing, can
not be too careful in the choice of the words he cmploys,-cnn not make ,
a better use of his time than in cxnmin ing a11J comparing the various ·
synonymous expressions that present themselves to hi s mind, and in ·
thus euubliug himself lu ;;elect fr om ;ll!W llg them bttch as exactly con1ey
his meaning, and nothing more or less. A;; aids in thi s improving men·
tal exercise, he will find ·w ebster's Quarto Dictionary nnd Crabb's
. "English Synonymes " specially useful. 'fo illustrate this subject, a few ;
s-ynonymes are here defined in contrast, from which the importance of
using them aright will be apparent.
I. Custom, habit. Custom is the frequent repetition of the same act;
habit is the effect of such r epetition. By the custom of early rising, we •
form habits of diligence. Custom applies to men collectively or indi·
vidually; habit applies to them as indivi<luals only. Every nation has
its customs; every man has his p eculiar habits.
II. Surprise, astonish, amaze, confound. \Ve are surprised at what is
unexpected; astonished, at what is more unexpected, and at what is
vast or great; amazed, at what is incomprehensible, or whnt unfavorably
affects our interests; confounded, at what is shocking or terrible. We
are surpri.~ed to meet a friend, at an hour when he is generally engaged
·at home; we are astonished to meet one whom we supposeu to be across
the ocean; we are amazed to meet a person of whose death we have
been informed; we are.confounded to hear that a family of our acquaintance have been poisoned.
IIT. Abhor, detest. To abhor implies strong dislike ; to detest
fynonymc of another? Why nre synonymous terms numerous in our language?
ts said 're~pecting their shades of meaning? How can an cxnminntion Into theso dell·
cate differences of significatio!l benefit the student? Show and Illustrate the difference
between cu.stom and habit; between lllwpl'ise, astonish, <tmaze, nnd confoun<f; be• -~

, I·

I

rRECISION.

281
I

'1bines with this dislike an equally strong disapprobation. We abhor
' ~being in debt; wo detest treachery.
_:e·' IV. Only, alone. Only imports that there is no other of the same
. ;.kind; alone imports being accompanied by no other. An only child is
. ~ne that hns neither brother nor sister; a child alone, is one that is left
. "by itself. There is a difference, therefore, in precise language, between
· the two phrn~ei-1, "virtue only makes us happy," and "virt.ue alone
·makeR us hnppy." The former implies that nothing else can do it; the
latter, that virtue itRelf, unaccompanied with other advantages, is snffi:cient to ensure our happin ess.
V. Entire, complete. A thing is cntfre when it wants none of its
'· ~ parts; complete, when it lacks none of its appendages. A man may
. ,have an entire house to himself, and yet not have one complete apart1
lu ment.
•
-~' , VI. Enough, wjjicient. Enough, properly speaking, has reference to
;-the quantity one wishes to have; s1~f!icient, to that which one needs.
._ The funn c1·, thcrcfurc, ge 11 e rally impliAR more than the latter. The
f .;miser may have s1~f!ic ient, but never has enough.
· ·.~ · VII. Avow, acknowledge, confess. Each of these words implies the
~.admission of n. fact, bnt under different circumstances.
To avow sup~_poses th e person to glory in the admission; to acknowledge implies a
. small fault, for which the acknowledgment compensates; to confess is
., _used in connection with greater offences. A patriot avows his opposi'},_: tion to n. tyrant, and is applauded; a gentleman acknowledges his mis,,take, and is forgiven; a prisoner confesses his crime, and is punished.

'
,

§ 36 l. The precise writer rejects all unnecessary wo~ds ·

'

he docs not, for instance, say, that such a thing cannot
/ possibly be, or must necessarily be, because possibly and
· t necessarily imply nothing more than can and 'must. He does
. ''not, after having made a statement, repeat it without any
, I.modification of the idea, in several different clauses, imagining
that he is thereby adding to what has been said. Such un·
8
5 meaning repetitions are called redundancies, and no other
.: fault so enfeebles style.
t ,

'

Addison, at the beginning of his Cato, is guilty of several gross re•1.dundancies : ~-

' tween abhor and detest; between only nnd alone,· between entire and complete;
''.betweon en01t(Jh and 81~ffecient; between avow, acknowled(Je, nnd confess.
'
_1!'· § 361. Whnt Is 8nh\ of the precise writer? What nro redundancies? What Is their
effect on st.ylc? Who Is mentioned n~ guilty of this fonlt? Repent the passage, and

I
I 1
! I

282

PRECISION.

PRECISION.

283

monarch of his nge." A render ignorant of history might suppose that
it was not Charlemagne's favor, but that of some other monarch residing at his court, that they were desirous of securing. A slight change
.i'vr..
.will prevent the possibility of mistake ns to the meaning: "Anxious to
In the first two lin es, th e same sentiment is three times repeated i~
secure the favor of Charlemagne, literary and scientific men hastened to
different words. "Th e chwn is overcast," means no more tlrnn "th~Jl~!!im~ his courL."
morning lowers"; anrl hoth these expressions denote precisely the same
EXEltCISE.
thing as the line that follows. In the third line, three synonymous ex:~.
pressions appear,-" the great, the important Jay, big with the fate."
. , In the following sentences, when two synonymes are preIn revising a composition, special regard must be h ad to Precision.
l·1a:
s~nted within brackets, select the proper one i when Precision
Unnecessary words (and sometimes many will be found) must be un·
i~. violated, correct the error : sparingly pruned out. The best method of avoiding such supcrfiuiti~s;'
, 1. He [o.nly, or alone?] of nll their nnmher lrncl sufficient resolution
or of breaking up a loose style, ·w hen once formed, is to en deavor, before _
writing. to get a w ell-defined conception of the suhj ec t. R cdnndrrn~ies '-"". · · ~ dec.l11;rc h1111self ready to procecd.-This circum.,tance [only, or alone?]
:. IS sufficient tu pruyc the worthlessness of the criLicisw.-011 qucstioniug
often proceed from the! >yriter's uuL having any prcdtie i1.1ca himself of;' ·
. !hem, thc.v n11 de med knowledge
the f":ct, except'. one [only, ot· alone?] ,
what he wants to say.
m whose countenance I tra?e~ evident s!gns of g~1lt.. 2. As soon as you
ha1c he.1.rcl ( enough, ~r sufhc1cnt ?] music, we will adjourn to the oLhcr
~ 362. Another violation of Precision consists in
apartmc~1t.-f am ol>ligcrJ to remmn here, hccause I have not [en ough,
foct~d substitution for the names of persons or the term~~
or suffic1f!nt 1] money to proceed on my jonrney. 3. ·we (avow, ae~o~lcdgc, or confess¥] an omission of duty ;-we - - a debt;- the
which we ordinarily apply to abstract ideas, circumlocutions
• c~1mmal ci:nnot be pcrsuadccl to - - ; - the martyr - - s his faith.
expressive of some attribute, which may belong to anothe~!
. 4..i The e9.u1pmeat of the ship
~ nti1:e, or complete 1]. 5. A being who
has 1_10tlung t? pardon or forgive Ill hnuself may reward every man acobject, and is therefore liable to be mistaken by the reader.ii
c~rdrng Lu ht~ wo1:ks.
6. 1:1ic physician enjoined temperance and abThus, Shaftesbury, devoting several pages of one of his work~
stmence on 111s patient. 7. rhcre was no tenant in the house ; it was
[va.cant, or em pty ?].-Th e h ouse was stripped of its furniture; it w as
to Aristotle, names him only as " the master critic", "the
ent!l'ely ( vaca.nt, or elllpty 1].-l\fr. D.'s death h as left a [ vacant, or
mighty genius and judge of art"," the prince of critics"," th<
empty 1] scat, rn ~he Board. 8. Paley hos said that man is a hundle of
[custo~m, or hal.>1~~ ?]. -.M any g1·cat m.cn have ~.he [custom, or habit/]
grand master of art", and" the consmnmatc philologist '',-j
of taktng snnff.-lltc (custom, ?r habit 1] of gorng to church may proleaving the read er to infer who is meant by these high-sound/ '.
duce [customs, or habits 1l of piety. 9. The general said that he [received, 01· accepted~] witf1 pride and satisfaction this token of their
ing titles. So, in another passage, without designa ting them
frien,dship.. 10. Though numerous applications were made for the prisby name, he alludes to Homer, Socrates, and Plato, respect~;·
cner s [forg1 veness, or pardon 1], they were all [unsuccessful 01· ineffecively, as "the grand poetic sire", "the philosophical patd; ~ ·
tual!]. 11. T~1; pl~asures o~ imagin?1tio.n are more preferabl~ than those
of sense. 12. Ih~s.1s the chiefest objection that I have to such a course.
arch", and "his disciple of noble birth and lofty genius". ,.
l~.. No man o! spmt can. acquiesce in, and re~ain satisfied with, this deIn like manner, when the proper name has been mentione<l, an allu,~,,
ClSIOn. 14. 'Il11s wavermg. and unsettled policy cannot be too strongly
~ndemn e d. 15. I am certam and confident ~hat the account I have given
sion to the same individual by m eans of a circumlocution is apt to givel.
18 correct and true. 16. He then made Jus statement and r elated his
the r eader a wrong impression ; as, "Literary o.ud scientific men hasten<
a~ry. 17. '~Te rested bene~th the umbrageous shadow of a sharly oak,
ed to the court of Charlemagne, anxious to secure the favor of the gre.ates~ .
aµd then ngam resumed om Journey anew. 18. The brightness of prosperi~y, ~hining on the anticipations of futurity, casts the shadows of adre:s1ty rnto the shade, an~ causes the prospects of the future to look
point out the r edundancies. In revisin g n composition, to whnt must special regard be .
bright. 19. 'Ve often conJu~·e up grounds of a].'>prehension, and give
hat!? ·what is tho best m ethod of avol<ling supc rfluilics and breaking up a loose style I I
ourselves unnecessary uneasmess. 20. The magistrate questioned the
From what clo redundan cies often proceed?
.' I 1
prisoner !11inutely and examined him at length. 21. Now, if the fabric
§ 362. What other violation of precision is hero alluded to? Show bow Shaftesbury
~( the .mmd or temper appeared to us such ,M)..t really is; if we saw it
violates this principk Wh en the proper name h a~ been m entioned, what is the effect ~
·lDlpossible to remove hence any one good ol'·orderly affection, or · to inof alluding to the snmo indiv idual by means of n circnmlocution? Illustrate this. ·<. .'I
"The dawn· is overcnst, the morning lower!l,
And benvily in clouds brings on tho dny,
Tho great, the Impor tant day, big with tho fate
Of Cnto nnd of Home."

o!

!s [

1

284

CLEARNESS, OR PERSPICUITY.

9LEARNEss, OR PERSPICUITY.

troduce any ill or disorderly one, witho_ut drawing on, in so~e degree, ,
that dissolute state which, at its height, 1s co11fcss~u to b e .so 1!11scrable,-'-t
it would then, undoubtedly, be c?nfesscd! that smce ~10 111, immoral, or,
1
unjust action, can be comnutted without either a n~w 111road and bre~ch . ·
on the temper and passion s, or a fm thcr . :.vlvn~crn.g of th~t ~xecut.10n
already done; whoever dicl ill, or ncte~ m preJ1~d1cc to l11s rntegrity,
good nature, or worth, would, of 11 ccess1ty, act with greater cruelty to,-1
wards himself, than h e who scrupl ed not to swall~w what was po1son1I
ous, or who, with his own hands, should volunt.iuily mangle or wound(
his outward form or constitution, natural limbs, or body. 22. Consta~J: ,,'
tine was constantly receiving presents, which were fo1·warded from all'
quarters to the great Christian emperor.
,I~
•o

-----·-----

"~i

LESSON LIX.
C L E A It N E S

I

'

I

'

s,

0 R

P E R SP I C U I T Y.

§ 363. THE fourth essential property of style is CLEARNESS).
1
or PERSPICUITY·) which consists in such a use and arrangeme'n~
.
of words and clauses, as at once distinctly indicate the mea~iI
ing of the writer or speaker. To a certain extent, this qualitY;
involves the three already considered ; that is, other thing
being equal, the greater the Purity, Propriety, and Precision;t
of a sentence, the clearer it will be. Yet these propertie~.
may belong, in a high degree, to a style which is far from per·
spicuous. Sornething more is necessary to constitute the
quality under consideration.
, I'' .
§ 364. 'rhe faulti;; opposed to clearness are,
-~ .. ·
I. Obscurity, which consists in the use of words and cO,i:\ '
structions from which it is difficult to gather a~Yi
meaning at all.
IL Equivocation, which consists in the use of words sus•
ceptible, in the connection in which they are placed;
of more than one interpretation.
§ SG3. What Is tho fourth essential property of style?

Whnt docs clearness, ton certai n exten t, lnvolv ~?
§ SG4. Ennmerntc nnd define tho three fault~ opposed to clenrnoss.

,

285

Ambiguity, which consists in such an arrangement of
words or clauses as leaves the reader in doubt between two different significations.
,.•:-{ § 365. Obscurity.-N othing disgusts us more with a composition than to find difficulty in arriving at its meaning.
Whatever effect the thoughts it embodies might have proc\liced had they been clearly expressed, is inevitably lost,
~bile the reader is pondering its intricate periods. Obscurity
results from various causes, of which the principal are as follows:, I. An improper ellipsis .
.·.'. This fig ure, as we have seen in § 317, authorizes the omission of
words necessary to the construction, but not to the sense. Whenever the
omission of a word renders the meaning of a sentence unintelligible, .the
. ellipsis becomes improper. .A writer in The Guardian uses this expres~on: "He is inspired with a true sense of that function." The meaning
•.~· not intelligible till we put in the words improperly left out: "He is
~pired with a true sense of the importance of that function." "Arbitr~ry power '', says another, "I look upon as a greater evil tha.n anarchy
i.~~lf, as much as a savage is a happier state of life than a galley-slave."
'We can not properly call a savage or a galley-slave a. state of life, though
.we may with propriety compare their conditions. The obscurity is removed by doing away with the ellipsis: " as much as the &tate of a sav~e is happier than that of a galley-slave."
~ .·· II.

A bad arrangement.

• r; Some sc 1~te nces have their parts so arranged that, on commencing
them, we imngin e they will convey a certain meaning, which is quite
different from what we find they really signify when we get to their
close. Thus, in The Spectator the following sentence occurs: "I have
~&pes that when Will confronts him, and all the ladies in whose behalf he
. $gages him cast kind looks and wishes of success at their champion, he.
will have some shame." On hearing the first part of the sentence, we
~turally imngine that Will is to confront all tho ladies; but we soon
~~that it is necessary to construe this clause with the verb cast. To

·'
..§ 865. Whnt feeling Is produced In the render by a composition difficult to be under·f9o<I? Whnt Is the first source of obscurity? Wh en Is an ellipsis improper? Give
-pies of improper ellipses. What Is the second source of obscurity? What false
Impression do we receive from some sentences whostl parts are improperly arranged P
ustrate this error from Tho Spectator, nud show how It may be corrected. What

CLEARNESS, OR PERSPICUITY.
CLEARNESS, OR PERSPICUITY.

286

-·t1w A word should not be used in differe

correct the error, the whole sentence must be remodelled, or we ' may:
simply introduce the adverb when after and: "I have hopes that when:

Will confronts him, and when all the ladies," &c.
The wol'<ls most frequently misplaced in such a way as to involve
obscurity are a~verbs, particularly only and not only. If these wo~da •"
nre separated from what they arc intended to modify, the meaning :
the whole sentence is obscured. " Ile not only owns a house, but ala r
large farm." Not only, us it now stands, modifies the verb owns; IL~
from the beginning of the sentence one naturally supposes that anoth .
verb is to follow,-that he not only owns the house, but lives in it,·
something of the kind. Whereas, not only is intended to modifii
house, and should therefore be lJlaced immediately before it: "He oWJlli
not only a hJuse, but also a large form."
.
Sometim:s a faulty arrangement of adjuncts or clauses produces alddicrons combination of ideas; us when we say, "Here is a ho~ ·
ploughing
one eye", instead of, " Here is a horse with one el!i
ploughing." From the former sentence we woul.d infer that the h~,· .
was turning up the ground with one of his organs of vision. So, in
following: "He was at a window in Litchfield, where a party of ro
ists had fortified themselves, taking a view of the cathedral." The'.:
alists would hardly go to the trouble of fortifying themselves merel r
the purpose of taking a view of the cathedral. It should read.thus: '.'
was at a window in Litchfield, taking a view of the cathedral, whe.

w~th

ljl

"'

\

·~

1\

:\
'1

J,
I

287

·party," &c.
, · .,.
The sentences given above as examples would be ambiguous.: .
ing to our definition of that term, if there were any other than : ~
surd meaning to be gleaned from the construction which we firsf:
mlly put upon them. As this is not the case, however, they fall' i:._
the h ead we are now considering,-obscurity. It may lie :irgued th ·
these and similar examples, the obscurity will quickly be remov:
the read el.· uses the least reflection. But this is not sufficient; we'
have no obscurity to be removed. Clearness requires, accor ··
Quintilian, "not that the reader may understand if he will, but !,'
must understand whether he will or not".

III. The use of the sanie word in different

senses~4
' "J

'

words are most frequently misplaced in such a way as to involve obscurity r,·,
tho effect of separating them from what they nre intemlecl to modify? Give~
pie of this error, show how it occasions obscurity, ancl correct it. What doel
arrangement of adjuncts an cl clauses sometimes produce? Give examples, an
the errors they contain. Why do we not rank these cnses under tho head of constructions? What may be argued with respect to trem? Is this sufficient
docs Quintilian say respecting clearness? What is the third source of obscurj

.
films, "He presents more and more
~t s.enses m
the same sentence.
. •· versary." Here the word
fi. convmcmg arguments than his admore ist occurs as an d' t'
.
~ntly, to the great confusion of th e rea der repeata d~ec ive, and
is pres. ··
d
of t h e comparative deg1·ee It 1 ld' b
e as an a verb, the
.
·
s iou
e · "H
[tnerous and more convincing argument th h' .
e presents more nu!Ji~re in each case an adverb.
s an Isadvcrsary",-morebeing

·~gn

' i The words oftenest used in th.
,
rpersonnls and relatives D
d~s w£ay are
pronouns, particularly the
.
·
epen mg or the'· · 'fi ·
'8tantives for which they st il 'f th
n s1gm cation on the sub"@!-t objects, their mcanin"' i'asnof' J
ey ar~ used with reference to differ1.:' •
•
b
course varied
d th' h
.avoided in the progress of
t
' an
is s ould be strictly
.
a sen ence Exampl
f th'
They were persons of moderate int 11 .t
es o
is fault follow.
-by£their passions." Here the fi . et te: s, even before they were Un.paired
'
is 1iey refers to
t ·
ond, to the noun intellects wh'l th
cer am persons; the
'
I e
e same pro
· h
ease, their, refers again to the
.
. noun m t e possessive
. .
persons m question T
Jl!r,
. we must either remodel th e w 1101e or (th
l· 't o conect the er' ort a sentence) alter the second t'tiey t'o ttie
' latter
oug l · I sounds
stiff in so
" Th
. ,~s.of moderate intellects, even befor a l
. -:
~y were per. ions." Again: "Lysins promised ~.
t~tter were impmred by their
' t his advice" Tl~ . ·
. is a ier that he would never for~
.
1e1 e is no eqmvocation h . . £ . .
.
ce that, thoubcrh the first 1,~
d 1
r
ei e' or it is evident at
1•• , an
'''
1ie rc1er to L
·
h
~rence
to the father . yet sucli
't
.
ysrns, t e second his has
1
11
'
cons ructions are h · 11
b'
·
,.sentence, us well as others lik- 't .
ig Yo ~ectionable.
'\, ·
e i , is most neatly
, t d
utmg the exact wo1·ds of th
I
corr ec e by subt 'll'
e spea ·er £ · th
b
as, "Lysias promised his father ,: I wo1'lll c SU"stance of what he
·N t l d
. .
'
never iorget thy d . ,,
a· vice.
·o on .y oes tlus rncorrect use of lll.onouns }Jrodu
b
. .
ce 0 scur1ty it 18
,mcons1stent wit1 r::r
i ~armony and Strength I 11
.
'
·
composmg, therefore,
•well constantly to bear· ·n . d tl
' 1 mm
ie rule D
t
n refer to different objPcts . tl
1 - o no make the same
cult rule to follow, as C~'cryi1~a:ecfsalme 'stentence. This is sometimes
·
·
.
• u wn er must have C d J> •
,~ays,
.'
oun diffi
. "cin1
. m his Jfcmoirs
·
' "I have a1ways 1iad considerable
. " mg a proper use of pronouns. Indeed I h ' t 1
icu. ty
use them, that all ambi(J'uity b tl . f'
ave a rnn great parns
_Bhould be im ossible o
y' 1C I e erenc~ to a wrong autcce~ 'thstanding ~his diffl:t~~yy~~1~1,iv~ o:t~n ~ailed in _tJie attempt."
-ce that it should be carri:d out ~~11c1'pf te·h invholved I~ of such im~r.1 ·
'
en 1
e w ole tram of thought

i;

8

a;:

~ .&nd show how the error may be corrected

! ' How is it that th ey may bear d'""
t. What words are oftenest used in
~
1ucren si"nific t'
y G'
. ..ch an error occurs in a sentence containln
~ ~ions ive an example.
? What other frmlts besides obscurit g da Indirect quotation, how may It
Repeat the rule. What does Pe' h d y oes this. incorrect use of pronouns
• ID ar say respectmg it? What is the fourth

_

_

_ _"'I_ __..
_~ .---~· ..

-

289

CLEARNESS, OR PERSPICUITY.

CLEARNESS, OR PERSPICUITY.

has to be put in a different form at a considerable expense of time ~ ~,,

;,~ry that we reject all words of more than one ·signification;
. (or, in that case, our vocabulary would become exceedingly
·,limited, and by far the greater part of our language would be
'tterly useless. But a regard for Perspicuity requires us to
'ect an equivocal term except when its connection with other
Q:'rds in any particular case distinctly indicates which of its
~ignifi.cations, as there used, it bears. This connection will
~ Nmost always determine the meaning so clearly that the true
··~nse will be the only one suggested.
Thus, the word. pound
·signifies both the sum of twenty shillings sterling and sixteen
~~nces avoirdupois. Yet, if a person tells me that he r_e nts a
· house for fifty pounds a year, or that he has bought - fifty
. :~rids of meat, there will be no lack of perspicuity,~t~e ,idea
..C!feight will not present itself to my mind in 'the ' one . case,
~. that of money in the other.
Sometimes, however, the connection is insufficient to determine the meaning j and the ex•
R~ession, being thus susceptible of a two-fold interpretation,
'~st be avoided. Examples of the different kinds of equivo·
}ion are presented below, together with the best modes of
rrection.

288
trouble.

IV. Coniplicated sentential structure.
When the structure of a sentence is much involved, especially ~h~~ .
its parts differ in form, or when long or abrupt parentheses are. mtl
duced obscurit.y is apt to result. This fault is more common with ,o
writei'.s than among those of the present day. It violates, not o~ ,
the rules of Clearness, but also those of Unity; under w~ich ~at~
subject it will be illustrated, and the best modes of correction will ~ ·
0
pointed out.
'• '

V. Long sentences. These are always a sour~e .of q~
scurity, unless the members composing them are s1m1la~ ·JI!
their structure. There is a tendency in most young writ~~ ·
to make their sentences too long. The other extreme is saf~
than this i but either is to be avoided. The m.ost pleasi~1
style in this respect is one characterized by variety; one, 1
which l~ng and short sentences are judiciously alternated. ·,,

VI. Technical Terms.

Terms belonging to a particular trade, business, or scie:ice, not ~eiDf
understood by the generality of readers, should be strictly av~i~,,
especially in poetry. Dryden, howe;er, w~s of t~e contrary opiru?
" As those," says he, " who in a logical d1sputat1on kee~ to gen~~
terms would hide a fallacy, so those who do it in any poetical descpp;
tion would veil their ignorance." Accordingly, in his translation of; tli
.LEneid, he indulges in the following technicalities:" Tack to the lai·board, and stand off to sea,
Veer sta1·boai·d sea and land.''

.,1

we;

Technical terms are allowable only in scientific treatises, whei'.e
them· and in comedy and fiction, where they are s~m
pee t t o find
'
·
.
· · di 'd
times introduced into dialogue for the purpose of illustratmg m V
!
peculiarities.
. •

§ 366. Equivocation.-To avoid this fault, it is not ne ,
source of obscurity? Whnt Is meant by this? What besides a want of clearness.,
snits from such involved constructions? What is the fifth source of obscurity.,
what case only is a Jong sentence perspicuous? In whom is there a tendency to ·
sentences? What is the best rule, as regards length of sentences? What Is the,
source oC obscurity? Why should technical terms be avoided? What was Drf,.
opinion on this point? Show how he has nctcd on this opinion in his translatio,11 .
•· ,.
1Eoeid. In what compositions are technical terms nllowable?
§ 806. Whnt Is mcnnt by nn equivocal term? When may such a term b~ '':( •

~L

'

"I am persuaded that neither death nor life will be able to separate
~Jr~m the love of God." Here of is equivocal ; we cannot tell whether
l meaning is the love which we bear to God, or that . which He bears
, ·lJ,S«: · If the former is intended, it should be " our love to God"; if the
God's love to us-". . So, -"the reformation. of LutJi,er '~ means
er the change wrought in him, or that brought about. by him. The
;)'{ signification may be denoted by eommenciiig reformation with ~
·ital; as, in this sense, it is an important historical event.
' !''
,'- > " They were both more ancient than Zoroaster, or Zerdusht."
,i :or. is equivocal. This conjunction connects either equivalents
inbstitutes. Hence, the reader · unacquainted with Persian h~
~
,-,may be at a loss to know whether Zoroaster and Zerdusht are the
e·person or different ones. According to the system of punctuation
down in this volume, the comma before or denotes that they are

.,ar, "

L

.

..

l'l<'bmst it be avoided? What generally d~termines the meaning of an equivoCal
'7\~ Give an example.
·
'· «i ' il'"
o "Na sentence in which of is equivocal;. point out the two Interpretations of
, f it ·Is susceptible; and show what alterations should. be made to :,expres.s'each
' g'blearly. · Treat in this ~ame maq,ner a sentence In which or Is equivocal; Ofilt
1.. .

13,

.

CLEAHNEss, on

290

l'EHSPICU11'Y.

CJ,~AHNESS.

EXEHCISE ON

one and the same and its omission would signify that two persons were
intended. Yet,
many are unaccpmintcd with pun ctuation, it is be~
when this co1~unctiou is used in the latter se11se,-t.hat is, as a con
nective of substitutes,-to introduc e its correlative either before the fira£
of the words so connected. "They were both more ancient than either,
Zoroaster or Zcrdusht" would denote that they w ere different persons,
beyond the possibility ~f mistake.
. ·~~;
III. "I have long since learned to like nothing but wh~t you do." ·
.Do is equivocal; we can not tell whether it is an auxiliary or 'll priii~ ·:
cipal verb,-whcthcr the meaning is lo like nothi11g but what yoit like~
_or nothing but what yoit do. If the former is intended, we should charige
do to like, or else say nothing but what pleases yon.
-l'·i11
IV. "Lysias promised his father that he woultl never forget hia
friends." Properly speaking, the last !tis refers to the same 1mtecedenr
as the first; and the meaning is, that he would n ever forget his own .
(Lysias') friends. If this is the author's meaning, the sentence is gr~~
matically correct; yet, as it may be misunderstood by those who do not·
look closely at gmmmatical relat ious, it would be well to alt.er the form
according to the suggestion touching an analogous case in § 365: '
." Lysias promised his father, ' I will ncv-cr forget thy [or my] friends.'{.
V. "He aimed at nothing less than the crown." Owing to t)!~
equivocal expression nothing less than, this sentence may denote eith~r1 ·
"Nothing was less aimed at by him than the crown;" or, "Nothing .~·
1
ferior to the crown could satisfy his ambition."

:'S

§ 367. .Anibiguity.-This fault, also, leaves the reader i;\l
doubt between two meanings; but this doubt is occasioned,
not by the use of equivocal terms, but by a faulty arrange- ·
. ment of words or clauses. Both equivocation and am bigu!tj,
.
but particularly the latter, are faults of frequent occurre~9l
in composition; from the fact that a writer whose mind r.~
pre-occupied with one of the significations of an expression,
which he designs it to convey, is not likely to notice that li\
also bears another. The commonest varieties of ambiguity '
are illustrated in the following examples : .·iol

291

. . ~antecedent; and, if it occupies any other place, the sentence, as a gen~j.-eral rul e, should be so changed as to allow it to stand in that position.
.•r:Thus, instead of, "A servant will obey a master's orders whom he loves,"
.kwe should have, "A servant will obey the orders of a master whom he
)oves." Yet, as this princi plc is constantly violated in composition, we
· 'F.~re sometimes at a loss to determine to which of two antecedent substantives a relative belongs. "Solomon, the son of David, who built the
r.: templc at J erusalem, was a wise and powerful monarch."-" Solomon,
. :ti.the son of Darid, who was persecuted by Saul, was a wise and .powerful
; ,n-monnrch."-In these two sentences, who is similarly situated; yet in the
a}ormer it relates to Solomon, and in the latter to David. A perspicuous
writer 'Would avoid the possibility of misconception by changing both:rL:" Solom on , the son of David and builder of the temple at Jerusalem, was
..tfre. wise and powerful monarch."-" Solomon, whose father David was
; _, i .1persecuted by Saul, was" &c.
· "II. The peculiar position of a substantive sometimes occasions amfo ·biguity, pnrticularly in poetry, when the object is placed before the
.o:r.verb. In the sentence, "And thus the sou the fervent sire addressed,''
;,: we ore unable to say whether the son or the sire was the speaker: ..The
• tt ';:neaning may be fixed in either way by substituting his for the, before
; 9 Jt!.he object; for, ne>cording to the idiom of our language, the possessive
· 7. pronoun is, in such cases, more properly joined to the regimen of a verb
' ~ .~an to its nominative. If the son was the speaker, the line should l'Ull,
... And thus the son !tis fervent sire addressed;" if he was the party
; ;spoken to, "And thus his son the fervent sire addressed."
0

·· '

.

---.

...___

~

1

IJ

i

I. The proper place for a relative pronoun is immediately after·; ~ll .
In wl.Jich do is equivocal; one in which his is equivocal; one In which the expressiqD
:;fw
§ 367. By wh nt Is ambiguity occasioned? What rend ers It a fnult of frequent oJcuro
rence? What pnrt of speech, improperly placed, often occasions am blgulty? w.~'19
11hould the relative pronoun stand? Correct tbe eent(\nce, "A servant 'viii obey . ~ .PJ!P'

nothing le88 than is equ ivocnl.

LESSON LX.
EXERCISE

ON

CLEARNESS.

IN the following sentences, correct such expressions as are
,' ·~ot perspicuous : • 1. He talks all the way up stairs to a visit. 2. God begins His cure
,l by caustics,_ by inci~ ions and instrun? cnts of vex:1tion, to try if the d!s·
.·· ease that will not yield to the allectrvcs of cordrals and perfumes, frrcter's orders whom ho loves." Show how t.he relative who, similarly pl.aced in tw'o dif·
_ferent sentences, may refer to different autecedcnts. How may these sentenoos be
pltered, to make the reference clenr? In poetry, from what does ambiguity sometimes
proceed? Give nn oxnmpl~, nnd show how th o mennlng may be determined. '
s;c

~

..

tions and baths, mn.y be forced out. hy clel ctcri cs, scm·i~cntions, and '
more salutary, but l.ess pleasing, physic. a. Som ~ pr0 Jn e t101~~ of nn.ture
riBe in value accordrng as they m?re or le:;~ r cscnHJl e nrt. . . 4 .. I he farmer ,
went to his neighbor, and told l11m .that l11 s .e:ittl e w ere 111 111s field. 5.
He may be said to hav e saved th~ h fe .of a c1t1zc11, and co nsegnently entitled to the reward. G. I pcrc e11·cd 1t had been sco urcd with h alf an .
eye. 7. The love of a parent is one of the strongest passions implante.d
in the heart. 8. So obsc ure are Carlyle's se ntenc es that nine tenths of h1~
readers do not rec eiv e nny idea from them. [Equivocal :-does it me.an
that only one tenth of his readers 11nderstand them; or tlw.t, though nine
tenths may not do so, eight tenths rnay? Alter .the sentence in tw? ways, Bo
that it may persp~c 11011sly express both t~icse idea.~.] .ll. Few k~ngs have
b een more energetic t hnn Menes, or [equivocal] :M1srn11.n. 10. 'Ihe young
man did not want natural talents; but the father of l11m was a coxcomb,
who affected bei ng fin e gentleman EO unmercifully, tha t he COU~d not
endure in his sigh t , or the frequ ent mention of, one wh o "'\\!IS llls son,
growing into manhoo<l, and t hrusting him out of the gay worlJ. 11.
·we a.re naturally inclin ed to praise who prni sc u~ , nnJ to flntter who
flatter us. 12. Th e rising tomb 11. lofty colui:rn bore. [Ambi 1<J1t?us ;which bore the other?] 13. IIc nJva11 ced ng mn st t.hc o!tl m~n, umtatmg
his aJdress, his pace, a nd career, as we ll ns the vigor of !11s h.orse and
his own skill would allow. 14. Th eir r ebuke hncl t h e effect rntcnded.
[Equivocal :-did they give the rebuke, or receive it,?] 15. Whom chance,
mi3led his mother to destroy. [.Anibi,guous :-was the mother th e destroy-·
er or the destroyed?] 16. This work hn s been overlooked [rquiv?c£_tl] by ·,
the most eminent critics. 17. Y ou ought to contemn nil the wit 111 the.
world against you. 18. The clerk told his employer, whntcvcr he did,'.
he could not please him. 19. Claudius was canonized nmong the gods,
who scarcely deserved the name of a man. 20. The L~tin t<;>ngue, in
its purity, was never in England. 21. /h ~ lady was sc ,~· rng with a Ro; _
man nose. 22. H ere I saw two m en d1gg1r1g a well with strnw hats.
23. "\Ve may have more, but we can not have mor e satisfa ctory, evidence. 24. Dr. PriLleanx m;cd to r clnt c that, wh en he brought the ·
copy of his " Col)n cc t,ion of the Old nnJ Nc w T cst.nm cnts " to the bookseller, he told him it was a dry subject., nnd t h e printing could not be
safely ve ntured upoJ1 unless he could enli ve n th e work with a little·
humor. 25. The sharks who prey upon the in ad 1·cr tc ncy of you?g
h eirs are more par donable t han those who trespa ss upon t h e good opm-, .
ion of those who treat th em with r espect. 26. Dryden makes a handsome observation on Ovid's writing o. Jett.er fr om Dido to .1Encas, in the :
[Ambiguous :-were th e words here referred to those ,
following words.
of Dryden's observ~tion ~r those of Dido's letter? ] .27. Most of the i
hands were a.sleep m their b erth s, when the vessel shipped n sea that
carried away our pinnace and binnacl e. Our dead-lights were in,
or we should have filled. The mninmnst wns so sprun g, t.hat we were
obliged to fi sh it , anJ be.tr away for lhe nearest port. 28. This occura in
B en Jonson's works, n prominent dramnti st contcmpornry with Shak· ; ' .
speare. 29. D's fortune is equal to h alf of E's fortune , which is a thou. .
sand dollars. [Ambiguous :-do~s J!'sfortune, or a. half()/ it, amount t? a ·
thousand dollars?] 30. l\Iy Christrnn and surname bcgm nnd end wi th ·
the same letters. [.Ambiguous :-does the Christian name begin with the •
same letter that the surname begins with; and end with the same letter thah ,
the surname ends with ; a~, in Andrew Askew? or docs th e Christian nama

293

STRENGTH.

JTIXE RCISE ON CJ,EARNESS.

292

end with the same letter with which it begins, and the surname alao end
Wi.th tlie same letter with which it begins; as, in Hezekiah Thrift? or,
· lastly, are all tli ese four letters, the first and the last uf each name the
same; as, in Norman Nelson? 31. The good man not only deserves
the respec t but the love of his fellow-beings. 32. Charlemagne patronized not only learned men, but also established several educational
institutions. 33. Sixtus the Fourth was, if I mistake not, a great collector of books, at least.
·
-r ·

a

LESSON LXI.

··, !

;

STRENGTH.

'!:•r.

§ 368. THE fifth essential property of a good ·style is

which consists in such a use and arrangement of
words as make a deep impression on the mind of . the reader
or hearer.
·
STRE NGTH;

§ 3G9. The first r equisite of Strength is the rejection of all
superfluous words, which constitutes, as we have seen, one of
the elcinents of Precision also. Whatever adds nothing to the
meaning of a sentence takes from its Strength; and, whether
it be simply a word, a clause, or a member, should be rejected.
In the following passages, the ·words in italics convey no additional meaning, and, consequently, a regard for Strength requires their omission :-" Being satisfied with . what he has
· ' achieved, he attempts nothing further."-" If I had not ·been,
absent, if I had been here, this would not have happened."".The very first discovery of it strikes the mind with inward
·~oy, and spreads d elight through all its faculties."
,, § 370. Tbe second principle to be observed by those who
· · aim at Strength of style, has reference to the use of relatives,
. · § 3GS. Wlint Is the fifth essential property of style ? In what does it consist?
' § 369. What is th e first requisite of strength? What is the effect of words which
add nothing to the meaning of n sentence? Give examples.
§ 370. T o what dol'~ the second principle refer? By what are parts of sentencos

\

'
294

'' '

S'l'RENG'l'H.

STRENGTH.

conjunctions, an<l prepositions, which, in<licating the conncc·
tion and relation of words, are constantly occurring.

295

~~~· "1. On the othe1· hand, when we are making an enumeration in which it

I. Parts of sentences are connected by either a conjunction 01· a rela: :.
tive pronoun, not by both. In the following sentence, the connect.ion is
made by and, and who should therefore be rejected: "He was a man of .
fine abilities, and u-ho lut BO opportunity of improving t.h 1m1 liy Rhidy."
Between two relative clauses, however, a conjunction is generally em- 1
ployed; as, "Cicero, whom the profligate feared, but who was honored ;
by the upright," &c. The cnnjnnction i~ al w inf.roduccll C\'Cll when the
relative and its verb are suppressed in one of the clauses, as in the commencement of the sentence from Swift, given below. Care must be
taken not to use the relative for the conjunction, or the conjunction
for the relative; of which latter fault, Swift is gnilt.y in the following :
sentence:"There is no talent so u sefnl towards risi ng in the world, or which :
puts men more out of the reach of fortune, than that quality generally.;
possessed by the dullest sort of people, and is, in common language,.1
called discretion."
•1
Here and should be which. It will be observed, also, that the words .
which is are understood after talent, near the commencement of the se~~ 1
tence, and that the conjunction or is therefore introduced to connect the
first clause with that which follows.
II. The too frequent use of and must be avoided. Not only when~
employed to introduce a sentence, but also when often repeated during '.
its progress, this conjunction greatly enfeebles style. Such is itf:l effect :.
in the following sentence from Sir William Temple, iu which it is used ,
no less than eight times:. ~·
"The Academy set up by Cardinal Richelieu, to amuse the wits of{ '
that age and country, and divert them from raking into his polities and ( .
ministry, brought this into vogue; and the French wits have, for this '
last age, been wholly turned to the refinement of their style and lan.d
giiage ; and, indeed, with such success that it can hardly be equalled,
and runs equally through their verse and their prose."
. :.J'
When the object is to present a quick succession of spirited, · images; 1·
the conjunction is often entirely omitted with fine effect, by a figure:
called by grammarians Asyndeton. This is illustrated in Cresar's cele~ •
brated veni, vidi, vici, and constitutes the chief feature of the style ot
Sallust.
·"t ••
~.,

~--~~-~~--~~~-~--~-~-~~~~-----. T

connected? Should both the relative and tbe conjunction bo nscd for this purpose in,
the snme connection? In wh at cnse Is the relative nlone ln, nffi clcnt to mnke the con·,1 nectlon? Wbnt Is the fault in the sentence quoted from Swill.? ·what conjunction
must not be repented too often? From " ·horn Is a set tence qnoted, which Is faulty~
this respect? Whnt Is mean t by a«yndeton r When Is this figure used with ftpe

is important that the tran£'ilion from one object to another should not be
.- too rnpid, hut. that each should appear distinct from the rest and by
itself occupy the mind fo1· a moment, the conjunction may be repeated
wiLh peculiar m1 rnntage. Such repetition is ca1lcd Polysyndeton; it is
e_xemplificd iu the following sentence of St. Paul's:" I nm pcr.s11:icl cd that n eilh cr dc:ith, nor life, nor a ngels, nor
principnlitics, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor
height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate
us from the love of God."

llI. What is called the splitting of particles,-that is, the separation
of a preposition from the noun which it governs,-is always to be
avoided. This fault occurs in the following sentence: "Though virtue
borrowR no assistance from, yet it may often be accompanied by, the nd. vantages of fortune." No one can read these lines without perceiving
their .decided lack of Strength and Harmony. A slight change will
greatly improve their effect: "Though virtue borrows no assistance
, from the advantnges of fortune, yet it may often be accompanied by
them."
' IV. Amid, on ordinary occasions, the common expletive there, as
used in the following sentence:-" There is nothing which disgusts us
sooner than the empty pomp of language." The sentiment is expressed
more simply and strongly thus: " Nothing disgusts us sooner", &e.
This expletive form is proper only when used to introduce an important
proposition.

:~:,· § 371. A thii·d means of promoting the Strength of a· sen. tence is to dispose of the important word or words in · that
place where they will make the greatest impression. What
. this place is, depends on the nature and length of the seni~nce. Sometimes, it is at the commencement, as in the following from Addison i " The pleasures of the imagination,
taken in their full extent, are not so gross as those _£>f sense,
npr SQ refined as those of the understanding." In other
In what sentence of Cresar's ls it Illustrated? In whose writings does it con·
atantly recur? What Is polysyndeton r When may it be used with advantage? Repeat a sentence from Scripture, In which it occurs. What is meant by the splitting of
. particles? Whnt effect has it on sty IA? Repeat n sentence in which this fault occurs,
and show how to correct it. In what c~ses is the expletive form there is proper, and
where should it be avoided?
' •·!' § 871. As a third means of promoting strength, where should the important word
~ords bo placed? In whitt position will they make the greatest impres.<Jon? Where

ot

296

STRENGTH,

STRENGTH.

''.p~mes an oppressive burden, and every object appears gloomy.
for
;pe.;- ·, ., , How much more forcible does it become when the shorter. and

cases, it. will be found of advantage to suspend the sense
a time, and bring the important term at the close of the
riod. · " On ' whatever Ride," says Pope, " we contemplate ,., .:
Homer, what principally strikes us is his wonde1ful inve1t!
tion." No rule can be given on this subject; a comparison .
of different arrangements is the only means of ascertaining, i~
any particular case, which is the best. It '\l'ill, therefore, b~
well for a writer, when a sentence which he has composed ·
seems weak, to try whether he can not improve it by varying
.
the position of the important words.
.

.

-. .
.,
~
1

·

.As writti;n.-" If, .wh!lst the.y [poets] profess only to please, they · ;
Becretly advise and give y1st!·uc~1on, they may now, p erhaps, as well as
formerly, be esteemed, with JUstice, the best and most honorable among
authors."
·
. .A~ altere<{.-If, whilst they profess to please only, they advise and
give rnstrnction secretly, they may be egteemed the best and most
honorable among authors, with justice, perhaps, now as well as for- "·
merly.

§ 372. Fourthly, Strength requires that, when the mem·
bers of a sentence differ in length, the shorter should have
precedence of the longer; and, when they are of unequal
force, that the weaker be placed before the stronger:
Both of these principles are violated in the following sentence : "In this state of mind, every employment of Hfe be-

'

.

do they stand in the sentc>nce quoted from Addison? Where, in that ta.ken from Pop~ t
What course is suggested to the writer, when h e finds that he has com po8ed a feeble.
Eentence? Wherever the emphatic words are placed, what is of primary importance p
.From whom is a sentence quoted in illustration?
. •'• '.
§ 372. Wlmt does strength require, ns regarrls th e position of members that differ In
length or force? Repent a sentence In which these principles are violated ' and
~how how it may be corrected. What figura consists in an arrangement si~llar

.

·:.weaker mem her is placed first: " In this state of mind, every
'-.object appears gloomy, and every employment of life becomes
., ~n oppressive burden."
: e i · This arrangement of the members of a sentence constitutes what has
' already been defined ~mong the rhetorical figures as Climax. What is
, · p:iost emphatic is brought last, in order that a strong impression may be
Jeft on the reader's mind. From this rule the next.naturally follows.
r.-' ''

.

'

§ 373. Avoid closing a sentence with an adverb, a preposi-

)

But, whatever position the emphatic word or words may occupy, it
is of primary importance that they be disencumbered of less significant
terms; whicl1, if presented in too close connection, divert the mind from
the prominent idea or object on which it should be allowed to dwell;
The differe~ce of ~ffect will be evident on comparing one of Shaftesbury'~
sentences, lll which a variety of adverbs and adverbial phrases are
skilfully intl'Oduced, and a sentence composed of the same words leak
forcibly, though not ungrammatically, arranged.
' '

• I

11

' _tion, or any small unaccented word. Besides the violation of
,-Harmony involved in placing a monosyllable where we are
accustomed to find a swelling sound, there is a peculiar feebleness arising from the fact that the mind naturally pauses to
'consider the import of the word last presented, and 'is disap~ 'pointed when, as in the case of a preposition, it has no sign.~f­
icance of its own, but merely indicates the i·elation between
_words that have preceded it. " He is one whom good men
' i are glad to be acquainted with." It will be readily seen how
'·much is gained by a simple transposition: "He is one with
·. whom good men are glad to be acquainted.''
!

'r , ~" The same principle holds good in the case of adverbs.

''Such things
were not allowed formerly'', is feeble compared with, "Formerly such
things were not allowed." ·when, however, an adverb is emphatic, it
is often, according to § 371, introduced at the close of a period :with"fine
"; ,effect; as in the following sentence of Bolingbroke's: " In their ·prosperity, my friends shall never hear of me; in their adversity, always."
1
, . , This principle, also, requires us to avoid terminating a sentence with
.a succession of unaccented words; such as, with it, in it, on it, &c.
'~ This is a proposition which I did not expect; and I must ask the
, to that here prescribed? Why Is it best to place !BSt that which Is most em,
.pbaUc?
§ 373, With what must we avoid closing a sentence? What Is the effect ofter. ·minating n period In this way? Give an example-. of this error; and show how to cor,'rect It. With what part of speech, as a general rule, must a sentence not be closed t
Exemplify, and then correct, this error. In what case may an adverb close a period f
'Repeat a sentence of Bolingbroke's, in ~vhich one Is so placed with fine effect. What
'_else does this principle require us to nvoid? Give an example.
.

13*

298

ltAilllIONY.

EXERCISE ON STRENGTH.

privilege of reflecting on it." The last member would b e more forcible
thus: "and I must ask time for r eflection."
•,P
,

299

' . r~marlmble and distinguished men that w e read of in history. Though
: his efforts were unable nnd insufficient ~ntirely to banish the darkness

· of the age he lived in, y et he greatly improved the condition of his eountrymen , nnd was the means of doing much good to them. 13. Sensualcontra.sted, a resemblance in language and construction in.i
ists, by their gross excesses and fr equent indulgences, debase their
,,
minds, enfeeble their bodi es, and wear out their spirits(§ 372). 14. In·
creases the effect. The most striking comparisons are thoso~
gratitude is not a crime tl1at I am chargeable with, whatever other faulLs I
in which this rule is observed. Thus, Pope, speaking of Ho-'
may be guilty of 15. The man ofvirluc and of honor will be trustee!,
' ·
and estcemeu, and r espected, a11d 1·elied upon. 16. He has talents which
mer and Virgil:-" Homer was the greater genius j Virgil the;
are rapidly unfolding into life and vigor, and indomitable energies
better artist: in the one, we most admire the man; in the:. ·
i§ 372). 17. lt is absurd to think of judging either Ariosto or Spenser
·• -'
. by precepts which they did not attend to. 18. Force was resisted by
other, the work. Homer hurries us with a commanding im ~
force. rn l•11· oppo~erl hy vn lor , nnd nrt enrountercd or r1nded hy simih1r
petuosity; Virgil leads ns with an ntt.rnct.ivc maj rs ty . Homer ___.,,,,,,,..~ . address(~ :;t+ ). Ul. JL is n p1.·incipl c of our religion that 'WC sh ould not
• 1.
• 1.
f ·
'l T'
.
·
revenge 11111·sclvcs on our e nem ies or lake vengeance on our foes. 20. It
1.
scatters w1tu a gcucrous pro us10u; 'ngi 1 1JCStows \ntu a
is irYJposcilil c for wi to b ehold the <1ivine \\·orks with coldn ess or indiffcrcarcful maguificeucc. "
ence. or t'l ~u rl'C'\' s11 mn11v l)(':intics wit Ii out n secret sati sfaction all<l
cornplae<;11(·y. ~!i . The f,;iL!t lie pr(1fos~1;(], and which he became un
We may further illustrntc thi~ point. by plncing 13idc by side two
aposUe <'./',was not lii8 in\· cnlio11. 22. The creed originated by l\lohammed, :wd whi ch almost all the Arabians and Persians believe in, is a mi..\:senteuces embodying the same thought, iu oac of whi<:l1 this rule is ob·
served, while in the other it is disregarded.
ture of J'nga11ism, a1Hl .J\Hlnism, a11d Christianity. 23. There is not, in
1'VMk.-He ernhrn c<><l the crrn~e of liherty forntlv , nn•l rm·•ned it
my opinio11 , a more ple asi ng and triumphant conside ration in religion
wi thout resolution; h e grew tii eel of it when h e h:id lnuch to hope, and
than this, of the perpeturd pros;rcss w hi el1 the soul mak es towards the
gave it up when there wnQ no ground for npprehenQion.
perfecti on of its naLrn·c, wit.hout ever ar riving at a period in it. 24.
·
. Their idleness, allli t heir luxury and jJleasurcs, their criminal deeds, and
Stron,g.-He embraced the cause of liberty
· 1111moclcratc
·
the11·
passiom, and-their timidity and baseness of mind, 11avc
. faintly, n11J lrnrsueJ it
irresolutely; he grew tired of it when he had much to hope, and gave .
, dejectcu them to such a degree, that life itself is a burden, and they find
it up when he had noth.i ng to fear.
.
. no plen•m·c in it. 25 . Shakspeare was a man of profound genius, and
whose bold and striking thoughts must be admired in every age. 26.
Avarice is 11. crime which wise men are often guilty of
EXERCISE.

§ 37 4. Lastly, when in different members two objects are:

In the following sentences, make such corrections as are
required by the rules for the promotion of Strength : 1. He was a man of fin e reputation, and enjoyed a high d'1gree of
popularity. 2. I went home, full of a great many 1'erious r eflections. . 3.
This is t h e l?rinciple which I r eferred to. 4. Catiline was not only an •
infamous traitor, but a profligate man. 5. \Ve should constantly aim at
perfection, though we may have no expectation of ever arriving at it. 6. .•
It was a ease of unpardonable breach of trust and gross disregard of
official duty, to say the least. 7. \Ve flatter oursel ves with the belief ·. ·
that we have forsaken om passions, when they have forsaken us. 8. Every
one that aims at greatness does not succeed (§ 371 ). 9. He appears to
enjoy the universal esteem of all men. 10. Though virtue borrows no .
assistance from, yet it may often be accompanied by, the advantages of .l
fortune. 11. As the str ength of our cause does not depend upon, so o
neither is it to be decided by, any critical points of history, chronology,
or language. 12. Alfred the Great, of England, was one of the most '
§ 374. ·w hen In different members of a sentence two obj ects nre contrnsted, how ·
th e effect lncrenscd? Show how Pope applies this principle In comparing Homer
and Virgil.

__._·-·-L E S.S 0 N L XI I.
HARMONY.

~

., '. ' § 375. THE sixth essential property of a good style is

a term used to denote that smooth and easy flow
;. .which pleases the ear. Sound, though less important than
·sense, must not be disregarded, as a means of increasing the
" ~ ~frect of what is spoken or written. Pleasing ideas can hardly
, ~e transmitted by harsh and disagreeable words; and, ~h,at~
· .HARMONY;

13

' § 375. Whnt Is th e sixth essential property of style? What does harmony denote

t

'.
'

i
\

--"=---

BOO

HARMONY.

HARMONY.

ever emotion we are . endeavoring to excite in the reader, wq,
accomplish our object much more readily and effectually bY.t
availing ourselves of tl~ peculiar sounds appropriate thereto.,;1
Harmony consists in,
I. The use of euphonious, or pleasant-sounding, words ..
II. The euphonious arrangement of words.
,., 11
III. The adaptation of sound to the sense it expresses. ·'·~
§ 376. The following words a1·e to be avoided as inharmo·/
•

• j

IllOUS : -

J. Derivatives from long compound words; such as barefacedness, wrong·
headedness, imsuccessfulness.
t'I

II. \Vords containing a succession of consonant sounds;
strik' st, .flinched.
III. \ Vords containing a succession of unaccented syllables; as, me
teorological, derogatorily, mercinariness.

IV. Words in which a short or unaccented syllable is r epeated, or folf .
lowed by another that closely resembles it; as, holily, farriering.
; .•
It must not be inferred that the writer is required, in all cases, to re1
ject the words embraced under the classes just enumerated. Harsh' ·
terms are sometimes adapted to the subj ect, and express the meaning
more forcibly than auy others. They should be avoided, however, when
euphony is desirable, and there are other terms which express the mean~
ing with equal significance.
.
Those words are most agreeable to the car, in which there is an in·
termixture of consonants and vowels; not so many of the former as to
impede freedom of utterance, or such a recurrence of the latter as fre·
quently to occasion hiatus.

§ 377. A regard for harmony also requires us, in the prog· '
ress of a sentence, to avoid repeating a sound by employing
the same word more than once, or using, in contiguous words,
similar combinations of letters. This fault is known as Tau 7
tology. It may be corrected by substituting a Bynooyme f~~
How does eound compare in Importance wlth sense?
harmony consist?
§ 376. Mention the four classes or words to be uvoldecl ns lnbntmonion,. When are
5uch words to be rejected? When may they be employed? Whnt words are most
agreeable to the ear?
r
§ 377. What is tautology? What ls its effect? How may it be corrected?
examples.

. -·- - -- ·- - ----

301
:,:\)f.,,

'. one of the words in which the repeated sound occurs. . The
. unpleasant effect of tautology will be readily perceived in the
following sentences:-" The general ordered the captain to
order the soldiers to observe good order."-" We went in an
enormous car." By a substitution of synonymes, as above
suggested, we avoid the unpleasant repetitions in these passa. ges, and increase their Strength.-" The general directed the
captain to command the soldiers to observe good order.", ,j 'rV e went in a large car."
·
§ 378. Harmony, moreover, is deficient in.' sentences con·
taining a succession of words of the same number of syllablei:.,
·thus, "No .kin<l of joy can long please us," is less harn;ionious
. than, " No species of joy can long delight us." , So we im• prove the sound of the following sentence, in which there is a
preponderance of dissyllables, by varying the length of the
words. "She always displays a cheerful temper and pleasant
~umor. "-" She invariably exhibits a contented and pleas~~t
¢isposition.''
. ·!· . § 379. 'l'he secona particular on which the Harmony of a
sentence depends, is the proper arrangement of its parts.
· However well-chosen the words may be, or however eupho·
µions in themselves, if they are unskilfully arranged the music
of the sentence is lost.
'; · In the harmonious structure of periods, no writer, ancient or . modern, equals Cicero. It was a feature which he regarded as of the utmost
· importance to the effect of a composition, and to ensure the perfection
. 9f which he spared no labor. Indeed, his countrymen generally were
more thorough in their investigations of this subject, and more careful
in ' their observance of the rules pertaining thereto, than are the most
polished of modern writers. Not only was their language susceptible of
more melodious combinations than ours, but their ears were more deli.cately attuned, aud were thus the means of affording them livelier plea~.ure from a well-rounded period. "I have often," says Cicero, "been
)\'.itness to bursts of acclamation in the public assemblies when sentences
~-- § 8i8. In what rnutences is harmony deficient? Gi'Ve examples.
§ 379. What is the second particular on which tho harmony of a sentence depends?
"Who surpa~ses nil writers In the harmonious structure of his periods? How, as regards
_this property, do the ancient Romans compare with the .moderns? What does Cicero

302

HARMONY.

closed musically; for that is a pleasure which t he ear expects." Elsei .
where, alluding to a sentence of the eloquent Carbo, he tells us, "Sof
great a clamor was excited ou. the part of the assembly that it was alter. ',.
gether wonderful." At the present day, we can not, e\' en with th~
most harmonious style, hope to produce such effc<;ts. It is sufficient if l
the ear is pleased; it need not be transported. There is clanger, more- 1
over, if a swelling tone is continued too long, of giving to what is com-&.
posed an air of tumid declamation. The ear of a r eader, becoming famiP..
iar with a monotonous melody, is apt to be cloyed with it, and to con'. ..
vey to the mind but a slight impression compared with that produced,
by variety. Contiguous sentences must be cou structcd differently, soi •
that their pauses may fall at unequal intervals. Even discords properly
introduced, and abrupt clepartu.res from regularity of cadence, have, at"'
times, a good effect. Above all, there must be no nppearance of labored
attempts at Harmony; no sacrifice of Perspicuity, Precision, or Strengthl1
to sound. All unm eaning words i ntroducecl merely to round a period• •
must be r egarded as blemishes. ·w hen the meaning of n sentence is ex·, "
pressed with clearness, force, and dig nity, it can hardly fail to strike th~r : .
ear agreeably; at most, a modernte degree of attention will be all that
is r equired for imparting to such a period a pleasing cadence. La?.,
bored attempts will often result in 11othi11g more than rendering thel
composition languid and enervating.

• !

§ 38Q. The first thing requiring attention in the arrange·' '
ment of sentences, is that the parts be disposed in such a way'
as to be easily read. What the organs of speech find no dif."
ficulty in uttering, will, as a general rule, afford pleasure to the '
ear. In the progress of a sentence, the voice naturally rests
at the close of each member j and these pauses should be so
distributed as neither to exhaust the breath by their distance~;
from each other, nor to require constant cessations of voice by' the frequency of th eir recurrence.
Below are presented in con·.,, ·'
.
trast a harmonious sentence from Milton, and one of an oppo~u :
site character from Tillotson; the former of which pleases the
I

. I

. I

,I

say that h e has witnessed? What does he state with respect to n sentence of Garbo's r
Why sho uld we not, nt tho present day, aim at n similar degree of harmony? "'.hat is .
1·ccumme nd ed with r espect. to the construction of co nti guous S('ntences? What Is some· :
times th e etfcct of <Ii ~ cords? What periods will genernlly strike the enr agreeably?'
Whnt is the effect of labored attempts at harmony?
;,
§ 380. What first requ ires atten tion in the arrangement of sentences? Where does ,'
the voice, In rcarling, naturally rc:;t? How sho uld thcso pnuscs be distributed? From·

HARMONY.

~ .. ~ar with its well-arranged succession of pauses; ·while the.

l~~~er offends this organ by reason of the length of its members,·
-~ p_
al'.ticularly the closing one, in which the reader finds no
. ~ -·
.
·.opportunity for taking breath.

1
·

· From .Milton.-" We tihall conduct you to a hill-side, lnborious, in. deed, at the first ascent; but else, so smooth, so green, so full of goodly
prospects, and melodious sounds on every side, that the harp of Orpheus
,.. was not more charming."
':· ~~ From Tillotson.-" This discourse concerning the easiness of God's
commands, does, all along, suppose and acknowledge the difficulties of
the first entrance upon a religious course ; except only in those persons
who hav e had the happiness to be trained up to religion by the easy
and insensible d egrees of a pious and virtuous education."
1;. :,

On this same account, a want of skill in the distribution of pauses,

the example given" as altered" in § 371 is singularly inharmonious; as,

e.Jso, are many sentences in which there are long parentheses.
-."'!, § 381. 'fhe next thing to be considered is the cadence. of
· periods. 'l'he rule bearing on thi~ point is, that when we aim
· · \It dignity or elevation the sound should be made to swell to
. t4e last. Herein the requirements of Strength and Harmony
agree,-that the lobgest members and the fullest and most
'spnorous words be retain ed for the conclusion. To end a sentence, therefore, with a preposition, or a succession of unac. cented word::i, is as disagreeable to the ear as it is enfeebling.
Observe the admirable cadence of the following fine sen·
~ tence of Sterne's : -

,, " The accusing spirit which flew up to Heaven's Chancery with the
oath, blushed as h e gave it in; and the recording angel, as he wrote it
down, dropped a tear upon the word, and blotted it out forever."
- / A slight change at the close of the sentence will mar its melody.
.~-.· " The accusing spirit which flew up to Heaven's Chancery with the
.. oath, blushed as b e gave it in; and the r ecording angel, as he wrote it
down, dropped a tear, aucl blotted it out."

'. .lt! · § 382. Finally, as the highest kind of Harmony,-most difficult to attain, and; when attained, most effective,-we have

...

to

what auth ors nre examples quoted, nnd wherein lies the harmony of the one, and the
"... harshn ess of the other? What is said of sentences containing long parentheses? .
":. . . § 3Sl. Whnt is the rule for giving nn effective cadence to a sentence? With what
do both strengt h nn<l harmony require u" to a void closing a period? Repeat a musical
· sentence fr om Ste rn~, point out wherein its harmony consists, and show how a slight
~bange will d~.~ troy its cadence.
' ·

304

HARMONY.
HARMONY.

consider the adaptation of sound to sense.
This is two-fold:
first, the natural adaptation of particular sounds to certain-,
kinds of writing; and, secondly, the use of such words in the
description of sound, motion, or passion, as, either in reality
or by reason of imaginary associations, bear some resemblance
to the object described.

for chiefly in po c t ry, wh ere mversrons
·
.
and other · l"1censes give
. . ). us a greater command of sound
. Tlie sounds of words are. employed for re resentin
chiefly, three classes of objects. first otl
d p
g,
d'ffi
t k' d
·
'
ier soun s · secondly
I eren
rn s of motion . thirdly th
.
'
.
'
Tl
. 1
.
'
' e passrons of tLe mmd.
1C sin1p est variety of this kind
f
H
.
.
.
.
0
tatio b
armony is the rnu• 1 we w~~h ~o ad~::~~: ~hoic~ of w:rds;. of striking sounds which
ing of winds.
' sue as t e noise of waters, or the roar-

§ 383. Certain currents of sound, it has been said, are ..
adapted to the tenor of certain varieties of composition.
Sounds have, in many respects, a correspondence with our
ideas, partly natural, and partly the effect of artificial associa·
tions. Hence, any one modulation continued impresses a cer•
tain character on sty le. Sentences constructed with the
Ciceronian swell are appropriate to what is grave, important;·
or magnificent; for this is the tone which such sentiments natu'!;·
rally assume: but they suit no violent passion, no eager.
reasoning, no familiar address.
'l'hese require sentencell
brisker, easier, and more abrupt. No one current of soundsi
therefore, will be found appropriate to different compositionS,
·1 '
or even to different parts of the same production. To use ~HV
same cadence in an oration and letter would be as absurd,as;)
to set the words of a tender love-song to the air of a stately ·
march. There is thus much room for taste and judgmenHn· .
forming such combinations of words as arc suited to the suhl ·
ject und er consideration.

§ 384. Not only is a general correspondence of the current
of soul!d with that of thought to be maintained in compos"
tion, but, in particular cases, the words, either by their length"
their rapidity of movement, or some other peculiarity, may
be made to resemble the sense with the happiest effect. T~.
can sometimes be accomplished in prose, but is to be look&!
~

we

,

This imitation is not difficult N
•
a poet, when he is describing . t o gdreat degree of art is required iu
swee an soft sounds to
d
are composed principally f r .d
'
use, wor s that
easily along. or whe11 1 .o iqlu~ s and vowels, and therefore glide
• ·
'
'
ie Is spea nng of 11arsh
·
noises, to throw together
a number of ro1wh syllable f d "ffi
"'I
b
S 0
l
cult pron
. f
· •
: no more than a continued ono t
.
unc1a ion. This IS, in fact,
~-fined; it is simply carr in : t opre1~, a. rhetor~cal figure already de. . forma tion of many word Y. g . l a prrnc1ple which has operated in the
~
s Ill ou1· anguage I
; ' ~peak of the whistlin!J of winds th h . k. f n common conversation we
' e 8 ne o the eagle th
.
h
f
Ind
1 buz.z of in sects
. Ian, tie
d tl h.
'
e w oop o the
'express
·
'
an
ie
zss of se"penu
'I'h
r espectively by ·t ' I
·
~.
ese sounds we
. .
ai icu ate sounds wh · l
bl
his is just what the l)Oet
k t d
zc I resem e them; and
- .
see s o o only at . t
l
~!Jmbrnations instead of 111
. d.1 1'd l
'
gr ea er ength, and by
. ·'"•'
'
v ua words.
.
.
.
The first two examples :ire passa es fr
.Ing respectively the sounds made b gh
om ~aradrse Lost, represent~nd the ope11i1w of the
·t I fy t e nnclosrng of the gates of 'Hell
poi as o Heaven Ob
1
,
th ese sentences oare adapted
h t .'
·.
serve 1ow admirably
· h
h h h
h~w b armonious the other. ' eac o its sub1ect
J
'
ow ars t e one,
" On a sudden, open fly
With lmpetnous recoil, and jnrrlng ~und
The infern al doors, and on th . bl
'
IInrsh thunder." '
cir nges grate
"Heaven opened wide
.
Her ever-durin ".., gnt es, 1iarmon1ous
sound
0 n golden hinges tnrning.,,
'

.

§ 382. What ls the highest kind of harmony? Under what two heads do
OQlesider th e adaptation of sound to sense ?
_,';,
§ 383. To what are certain currents of sound ndapted? Explain the reason.1111
ls th e r esult of continuing any one modulation? To what are sentences conslru .,
with the Ciceronian swell appropriate f To what are they unsuited? In wb~(
ls there much room for taste and jL1dgment?
•U :.
§ 384. H ow may words be mnde to resemble tho senso? In whnt depart '

N
_ one kucw better than Pope the
'

"'
~position,

ff t f
e ec o this higher kind of Har-

chlefiy, is this beauty to be looked for
d
. .. .
' acts are oftenest thus reprcsent~d by sounds? 1'v~n why? :Vhat three classes of
,, of harmony ? How may swee t and soft
~at ls the s11nplest variety of this
_esp What figure is thus carried out? Gh-e sonn s be represented? How, harsh
. the sounds which th ev deuote ~v1 t d
examples of words form ed in Imitation
I
•
· • rn o th e first two
. examp es represent? How
,, ey compare with each other? Wh t
.,
n poet, In particular, ha.s attained this higher

..

.~

. ...

.

HARMONY • .

HARMONY.

306
mony.

~vhich Johnson says, ns nn example of representative versification, "per- haps no other English line can equal."

He thus, in the Odyssey (xxi., 449), represents the

bow-string:-

"Ile who defers this work from day to day,
Docs on a rl ver's bank expecting stay,
Till the whol e stream that stopped him shall be gone,11'hich 1·1111s, and, as it 1··u11s, .forever shalt 1·un on."

"The strin g, let fly,
T wan(Jed short and sharp, like the shrill swallow's cry."

So, in his Iliad (xx:iii., 146), he imi tates the noise of axes
orke:-

,,

307J .

and falling

"~oud sounds t.he axe, redoubling Etrokes on stroke~
On all Eides round th e forest burls her oaks
Hencllong. D eep echoing gronn the th ickets brown,"
Then, ,.,;stli11(!, crackli11(l, cra ~lii11(l, thw1dc1· do1c11.

.
f ~hirlpool he deoc ribcs in the following terms:The roarmg o a "
"Dire Scvlla th ere a Ecene of horror forms,
.
And bc; e Charybdis fills the deep with storms;
'V hen the tide nt"hes from her rum bli11~ cn>eS,
"
The 1·ough rock roars: tumultuo us boil th e W3>CS.

In allusion to the nry subj ect b efore m,-i. e. n:nking the
emble the sense -the same author gn-cs n
poe t ry, res
. .
•.
. .
strikingly illustrates it, Ill a smgle !me."But when loull snrges lnsh th o sounding shore,
"
Th~ hoarse 1·01t(Jh verse should like the torrent l'oa.1'.

In the second place, the sound of words i~ often employe.d
to imitate motion, whether swift or slo;v, violent or gent:~!t
· t . . ted Though there is no natural affimtyt
.
. .
.
equabl e or m euup ·
"nd n1otion ve t in the 11nagrnat10n they a~e
d
' J
•
•
•
b
b e t ween soun "'
closely connected, as appears from the relat10n subs1stmg \ ~-,
tween music and dancing.
Long syllables naturally give the impression of slow and
motion, as in these lin es of Pope:"A needle s~ Alcxnmlrine ends tho song;
,,
That, lilce <t ~comided snake, d 1•a(Js its slow length along.
".Just writes to make his barrenness n~1penr:
.
• ,,
And strai ns from hard-bound brains eight lines a y ea1.

. of sho1·t syllables containing but few consonants .de.
c 1
A success10n
notes rapid motion, as in the last of the following Imes from ow; ey,
kind of harmony? R epeat the lines in which he represents the sound ?fa ~?'~-~~l!I
those in which he irnitntes the noise of axes n~cl ~alli~f ~ak~; ~~1:::~re~ l~:~er
scribes the r oal'in g of I\ whirlpool; those In which ie a u cs u
·:.

•
Whnt is snld of the co

sideratio n.
.
. _.
?
What is the second variety of tl11s klnd of hgrm ony
d d' ill lt in
tion between rnund nnd m otion? How is th e impression of slow an 9 I c':e in
con,·eyed? lllustrate this from P ope. How is rapid motlon denoted. Quo '

Pope furni sh es an example of easy metrical flow, which aJmirably
the gentle motion of which he speaks.

. ~epresents

"~oft

is th e st min when Zephyr gently blows,
And t.'10 smooth stream in smoother 1wmbe1·s jlmcs."

A sudden calm at sea i5 w ell painted in the following lines:"Then the shrouds drop ;
Th e downy feather, on the cordage hung,
1'Ioves not: the flat sen shines like yellow gold
Fu5ed in the fire, or like the marble floor
Of Eome old temple wide."

, ·... -Sounds are also capable of repre~enting the emotions and
passions of the mind : not that there is, logically speaking,
any resem blancc between the two j but inasmuch as different
• j,labic com hi nations awaken certain ideas, and may thus preii~pose the reader's mind to sympathy with that emotion on
w~i~h the poet intend s to dw ell.
Of this, Dryden's Ode on
s(; Cecilia's Day is a striking exemplification ; as, also, is
Collins' Ode on " 'l'he Passions." An extract or two from
e' latter poem will sufficiently illustrate the subject; it will
observed that the words, the metre, and the cadence, adably correspond with the emotion in each case depicted.
"Next Anger ru ~ bed, his eyes on fire,
In lightnin gs ownccl his secret stings;
In one rude clash he struck the lyre,
And swept with hurried hand the strings."
"With woful m easures wan DcspnirLow sullen sounds his grief beguiled;
A solemn, strange, and mingled nir,
'Twas and by fits, by starts 'twas wild I "

, a line from Cowley, hi gh ly eommende1l by John son. Quote a couplet of Pope's,
represents gentle motion. R epeat th e example in which a sudden cnlm at sea
bed. What else are sounds cni·able of representin g? Expl.ain ho'v th!~ is pos. What poems afford exnmples? Repent the passages quoted from Collins' Ode,
5
w how the sound corresponds with the emotion denoted.
-

@rt

308

EXERCISE ON HARMONY·

UNITY.

.tem. 18. To two tunes I have made up my mind never to listen. 19.
Days, weeks, and months, pass by; the rocks shall waste and man shall
'turn to dust. 20. In an analogous case, this might be different. 21.
. Should liberty continue to be abused, as it has been for some time past,
t.. (and, though demagogues may not admit it, yet sensible and observing
men will not deny, that it has been,) the people will seek relief in des.,qiotism or in emigration. 22. We should carefully exanline into, and
candidly pass judgment on, our faults. 23. In a few years, the hand of
'industry may change the face of n country, so that one who was familiar
~ith it may be unable to recognize it ~s that which he once knew; but
man,v generations must pass before any change can be wrought in the
sentiments or manners of a people, cut off from intercourse with the
/ rest of the world, and thereby confined to the sphere of their own nar. row experience(§ 380). 24. Confident as you are now in your assertions, nnd positive as you are in your opinions, the time, be assured, ap; proaches, when things and men will appear in a; different light to you.
'26. Some chroniclers, by an injudicious use of familiar phrases, express
·
.' ·
,themselves sillily. 26. The scene is laid on an inland lake.
t

A

.

.___. _...___

LESSON l1XIII.
EXERCISE

ON

HARMONY.

CorrRECT the following sentences according to t.he
for the promotion of Harmony : .. .

.

.

1 th
. the ordinary fate and v1c1ss1tnde of ~lnnga, .
1. No morta au o_r, m . hatcv er the arc, may, some time or.
knows to wh~~ ~se(§~~l)wor~'\: is likewise ~rged, that there are, b~
other, be app ie . . . ·
· b
teii thousand parsons, whose rev.,,.r
computation, in tlns lnng~of~r~s ~~~ Bishops, wonld suffice to maintaW,
h If a million if not more, poor . men.
nues, added to those of0 }n}· .
at their present rate
ivmg, a
1 · ' anners (§ 378). 4. H
3. Studyt.tfo .un\te ':i~~te~mf~~s~l~ei~\:£i~~~~~
':s's of his behaviofr• 'Ji§;
1
was mor 1 yrng Y
.
1 . are an a~suredly they are ew-;pi
There are no persons, or, if t ie1t~ ' f 11'fe' either directly or indireo
1
b
. to th' ''
num er, w .10 h a ve not ' at. some ime tio ·. ' ·t been of service
ly with or without consc10usness 0!1 iefutpl a1 ' 6 Thou rushedst"in
'
t ures, or at. least
' d'a port1011
. d to notiem.7 I · have just ma de ,.•, .
fellow-cren
the midst of the conflict .'.1n swerve s f · d.
8 A mild child ·
.r. .r.
rdrng four bales o goo s.
.
rangements Jar Jorw:;ld I11'Id 9 St Augustine lived holily and g
· .. " d
of
his
conduct,
we col!!~
liked better tha~1 a wi . c _ ·
8
lily. 10. ~ci~w1thstan?rn~ the ba1i{~i: c:~dition. 11. The slow ho~
not help p1ty111g_ the nnsetable~e6.\ the fast horse that stops to eat ,
that keeps on his course ma~ ;tis he th~t has committed the dee~ .
sleep by the ::ay (§ 378)Sob~r~inde<lness and slmmefocedn~ss ar~ 'W7
least acce~sonly. .IJf . tue 14. Generally speakrng, a ·PJU!
un\ess
in bravery and discip~ine to those ot is opponen Ener . ·,industry,. '
ly stated in an encyclical letter of that age. J 16-.
Hydropho
cl balld iness recommend mcc rnmcs.
· water an
· ia
"
perance an
•
· fi
of
(which is derived
h.il
so called from ~he avei,,i~n °
h it seldom causes a
.
patie1?ts
?ufferrng.
frolmf
.its
at:~:·
b~~:if
originates)
sometimes,
~:"
avers10n 111 the amma I om w l
~-,

11

~~~: g~:~~~~le~~~l !~oi~n~e~e~er~~ren?~~ement

i1~s f~~~i:si:~isti1·

f?

from.,~wo tG\~~!~ ';1~::; 1 ;:1!~:i~1{1g}t e~:oduces i~

309

~ ·iiisplay itself for months after the poison has been received into the sy~

"But thou, 0 Hope, with eyes so fair;
What was thy delighted measure·
Still it whispered promised pl~asure, .
And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail·1
.· Still woulil her touch I.he strain prolong,
And from the rock s, the woods, the ,·ale,
She called on Echo stil l through all her song i
And where her sweetest theme she chose,
soft responsll·e voice was heard at every close i
"
And Hope, enchanted, smiled, nnd waved her golden hair 1

--+-••...·--LESSON LXIV.
UNITY.

.i

385. THE last essential property of a go"od sty le is
which consists in the restriction of a· sentence to one
aiiig proposition, modified -only by such a_ccesso,ries :fLS are
terially
and closely connected with · it. The very nature
1
seµtence implies that it must contain but one proposition .
"ay, indeed, consist of parts; but these must be so bound
of one fact,
ther as to convey to the mind the impression
~
.
:One alone. ,
· · · ·

i "J;Y;

§:as6. The first requirement of Unity is, that during the
· 'eof the sentence the scene and the subject be changed
t~le as possible. The reader must not be hurried by sud' What ls the last essential property of a good style? In what does unity con.
, :'What does the nature of a sentence Imply P If It consists of pa~ts,· "'.hat, m_1:1st
ch81'acter P
.
.
. t What ls the first r~qulrement of unity P What Is the effect of sudden transl·

UNITY.
UNITY.

310
.
. .
lace to lace, or from person to p.erso~~ '
.d en trans1t1ons from P ' . P.
gh for the mi.nd to con··
· 1 d'
b'ect at a time is enou
jl
One ea mg su J
. t. d ced the attention is d,1~
. hen more arc m r o u
'
'd·
temp l a t e ' w
d
d tl1e impression weakene ·,
t d th Unity destroyc , an
1
·
trac e , e
. h
ff t . the following sentenc~,
This it will be seen, is t e e cc rn.
..
1 wh .
. '
.
1 than four subJects,-fl iends, we, ' ,. ~.
wluch oontams no ess
in the.
. J Observe h ow asl'ig ht chanrre
' o
,,,,.
[that is, !assenge1_~, · f t o of the subjects and thus insur~
construction gets nu o w
,,,
th Unity of the sentence.
~~'

A violation of this rule is fatal to Unity even in periods
'\l;~f. 110 great length, as is apparent from the examples just
given ; in sentences unduly protracted, however, there is a
·:~.till greater liability to err in this particular. The involved
'- ..,style of Clarendon furnishes numerous examples. Nor does he
-~,s~and alone ; many of the old writers are, in this respect,
e
on board
of
d b k fter we r eac he·'u tl1e ··e,sel
' ,
'
•
'th
~equally faulty. From Shaftesbury we shall quote a sentence
" :My friends t~1rne .ac k~ d
the passenO'ers, who vied WI . :
which I was received with m !1es~, 1iy
o
-~.~·
.in point. He is describing the effect of the sun in the frozen
d th
· bowing me attention.
each oth er lll B
•
t
l back after we reache
8,
·· ~~!egions; beginning with this orb as his prominent subject, he
""1
f
·iend~ lrnvmg ,urnec
d
·
1
Corrccled. - " Y
:
b rd with kindness, an VI
.,:;;-soon proceeds to certain monsters and their exploits; whence,
vessel, the passengers r~ce1ved me o~1 ,?a
.;,· '
with each other in showrng me attention.
.
'
· '~Y an unexpected and unaccountable transition, he suddenly
. d
t ·owd into one sentence
§ 3 87. A second rule is'. o no er
,JJt..
~rings man into view,· and admonishes hirn at some length as
thin s that have no connection.
.
.\
. his religious duties. The only way to correct such an ing
.
ll ·
assnge ·-"Archbishop Till
~lved period as this, is to break it up into several smaller
This rule is violated in the fo owd1~g ~· b,elov.ed both by King

!
l

\

(
<I

I

··Greeks, the description of the inhabitants through whose country they
.•~~_i:avelled, the account of their sheep, and the reason why these animade unsavory food, form a medley which can not fail to be
" " ,mals
,,
t1 1
. .!~~,tasteful in the highest degree to an intelligent reader.

.
·
. d . th' year. He was excee rng Y
.
son d ie in 18
t d Dr Tennison Bishop of '
.
'
.
.
d Queen Mary who nomma e
ham an
d h' .,; Who from the beginning of tlus senten
coln, to succee
un. 1 . ', ·when w e are told that he was lo
ld
ct such a cone us10n '
.
wou expe
t . lly look for some proof of this a
1: k'
nd queen we na uta
..
~y t 1e ~Jf at somcthi'nO' connected with the main prop?s1tI?n; w~~ .
ti on, pr a ed. as l . ~ . ed of Dr. Tennison's nomination 111 lus place. :
•
we are sud en Y m 01111
dan t 1'd ca,
. n nd em ·-- •
. e must remove the d1scor
correct such an erro1, w
.
. . t
t
·-''·He
. . .
t' l that it be presented, rn a d1strnc sen ence .
.
it if it is essen ia
"1
Dr Te
'
a·
l beloved by Kin"' William and Queen u ary.
.
.'
?
d 1· "
··
excee rng Y
.
f Lincoln was nommated to succee um.
. ., -.
Bishop o
. ' t
e from a translation of Plutarch, is still '\\'..9
The followrng sen enc ,
. r.
Speaking of the Greeks, under Alexander, the author says:- ': ! .

j

,\
j

"Their march was throng~1 an unculti~~!~ge~ot~1~~·y~ ~~~=~ ,~t
1
inhabitants faredhhardl~, hk~vrndg :i~sa~~ii:y ~y reason of their con'
whose
fies
was
1an
an
'
· " 1".·. ·
slieep,
. h ,,
feedrng upon sea-fis .
· ·h~; 'l
· .
d
·
d again
The mare j!I:
Here the scene is change agam an
·
·
. r1 ,
from person to person? Illustrate tbl.I
0
1
tions In a sentence from pine~ to P ac: ~ , bow the fault may bo corrected.."'}if
·
t ·
t nee containing four subjects, an s O\\
sen§e SST What Is the secon<l rule for the preservation of unity _?t R;.pea t:/a~
·
b rein the error lies, nnd correct 1 .
1ve
,1
,
which It Is violated. Show wt e I ti of Plutarch. What Is objectionable.I
of the p!ISllage q noted from a rans a on
1 /r
•

"

It breaks the icy fetters of the main, where vast sea-monsters
erce through floating islands, with arms which can withstand the
stal rock; whilst others, who of themselves seem great as islands,
are by thei1· bulk alone armed against all .but man ; whose superiority
over creatures of such stupendous size and force, should make him
'ndful of his privilege of reason, and force him humbly to adore the
-· at composer of these wondrous frames, and the author of his own
perior wisdom."
·
· . · .· .
·i "

;It may be contended that, in passages like the above, punctuation
' l bring out the meaning by showing the relation between the various
~'.· ·; and that, therefore, if commas, semicolons, and colons, are propY used, a violation of Unity may be tolerated. It is true that punction does much to remedy even faults as gross as those in the last
J
•
~raph; but it must be remembered that the points it employs do
~make divisions of thought, but merely serve to mark those already
. Ung, and are therefore proper only when th~y correspond with the
r: Let those who think that a proper distribution of poin.ts will
.<Hr•

. : ··

sentences Is a want of unity most likely to occur? Whose long and Intricate pe'. farnlsh examples? From whom is a sentence in point quoted? Give its .sub-·
·::..w hat mistaken view do some take with respect to the correction of sentences
· tin.unity, by means of punotual!on 1 Show why this view ls .mistaken.
1

I

•.· - ~

312

' .

make up for the want of Unity, try the experiment in the last examp~ · , ·
The ideas it contains are so foreign to each other that we must have»:a~.
least three distinct sentences to express them properly; yet it is e~
dent that, as the members now stand, periods between them are inad·
·~
missible, on· account of the closeness of their connection.

§ 388. In the third place, a regard for Unity requires th~t' .
we avoid long parentheses. We have already alluded to th~.\~
effect as prejudicial to Clearness, Strength, and Harmony. · Ig.'
the old writers they are of frequent occurrence, and constitu '
so palpable a fault th~t in later times it has been thought t .
safest course to reject parentheses of every kind. Passag
in which they occur, must be divided into as many
as there are leading propositions.

I ·;

EXAMPLE.-Th e quicksilver mines of Idria, _in Austria (which we_
discovered in 1797, by a peasant, who, catchmg sor~ie water from ;~ · ,
spring, found the tub so heavy that he could not move it, and the bo~to.
covered with a shining substance which turned out to be mercury) yiel~
every year, over three hundred thousand pounds of that valuable me.t4U
1
Corrected.-The quicksilver mines of Idria, in Austria, were disco
ered by a peasant in 1797. Catching some water from a spring, ' h
found the tub so heavy that he could not move it, and the botto
covered with a shining substance which turned out to be mercury. ~ .
this valuable metal, the mines in question yield, every year, over thr.¥ ·
hundred thousand pounds.
'
EXERCISE.

Correct the following sentences so that their Unity ma
be preserved, altering the punctuation as may be required~b
f
the changes made :~~:Ti
1. The usual acceptat10u takes profit and pl~asure for two differe~ .
~.,

'

'·

things, and not only calls the followers ~r yota~ies of them by ~he sev .
al names of busy and idle men, b11t d1stmg~1 shes the facu~ties of th_t
mind that are conversant about them ; calling the operat10ns of· tJi
first, 'wisdom; and of the other, wit ;-which is a Saxon word, use~ ·,to
express what the Spaniards and Italians cnll i_ngenio, and ~he Fren~
es?,_rit both from the Latin: though I think wit more particularly ,
mfies 'that of poetry, as may occur in remarks on th~ Rur!ic language; ,.
Sm w·ILLIAM TEMPLE. 2. To this succeeded that hcent10usness wlil
entered with the Restoration and from infecting our religion and morili
fell to corrupt our language;' ;vhich last was not likely to b~ much,~ ·
proved by those who at that time made up tl.1e c_ourt ~f Krng Ch~
the Second; either such as had followed lum m lus bamshment, or,;1
§ 888, What Is the third rule?

313

THE FORMING OF STYLE.

UNITY.

What is the effect of long parenthesesf ;-.1

d been altogether conversant in the dialect ·of these fanatic times· or
ung me? who had been educated in the same country; so that' the
' ?urt, which used to be t!ie standard of correctness and propriety of
~eech, was then, and I tlnnk has ever since continued, the worst school
,iii England for that accomplishment; and so will remain till better care
~be taken in the education of our nobility, that they may set out in the
'~.orld with so1;ie foundation of literature, in order to qualify them for
patt~rns of pohteness.-Sw1FT. 3. We left Italy with a fine wind, which
: c,oqtmued three days; when a violent storm drove us to the coast of
r ~ardinia, which i~ free from all kinds of poisonous and deadly herbs,
..except one; :vh1ch ~·esembles I?arsley, and which, they say, causes
~ose who eat it to die of laughmg.
4. At Coleridge's table we were
. ~troduce~ to Count Frioli, a for~igner of engaging manners and fine
!(<>IlVe~sat10nal powe~·s, '~ho was kille~ the following day by a steamboat
1xplos10n. 5. The hon 1s a noble ammal, and has been known to live
~j years in f!' state of ~onfinement. 6. Haydn (who was the son of a
" or wheehyr1~~t, a_nd is b~st k?own to us by a noble oratorio called
.,The Creation., wluch he is said to have composed after a season of
~lemn prayer for divine assistance) wrote fine pieces of music when"he
:(as·,no_ more than ten years old. 7. The famous poisoned valley of Java
(1!hwh, a~ M~. Loudon, a i:ecent trayeller in that region, informs lis, is
t'Wenty miles m length and 1s filled with skeletons of men and birds-. and
lhto which it is said that the neighboring tribes are in the habit of
~ving criminals, as a convenient mode of executing cap~tal punish~ent) has proved to be the crater of an extinct volcano, in which carnic acid is generated in great quantities, as in the Grotto del Cane at
!_aples. 8. T?e Chinese women are for the most part industrious; and
. ,e, as embellishments of their beauty, paint, false hair, oils, and pork
~ : ; 9. London, which is a very dirty city, has a population of two
hons and a quarter. 10. We next took the cars, which were filled
t04overflowing, and browight us to a landing, where a boat was in wait·.g that looked as if it were a century old; but which, while we were
. .tnining its worm-eaten sides, put off at a rate which soon showed us
.:. tits sailing qualities were by no means contemptible, and taught us
practical lesson that it is unsafe to judge of the merits of a thing by
external appearance.
·
'

.f

~;

..

I

••
LESSON

THE

'

LXV.

FORMING

OF

STYLE,

,'§' 389. As we have now considered the various kinds Qf
.le; and the essential properties which shotild be preserved
£hem all: it may not be out of place to add a few practical
• estions respecting the best _mode of forn!-ing a .ch~r?octer~r

J4

.

THE FORl\IING OF STYLE.

315

THE FORMING OF STYLE.

..
• :rally be traced. Faults are thus contracted which it will cost
.
' thoughts. .\Vhether a young .
8
ressing one
1 b ed
·· 1infinite trouble to unlearn .
. stic manner of ex P
.
d' ff use simple or a or ··I
1
1 . t be conmsc or t
'
~v · Quintilian (bk. x., ch. 3) alludes to this point in the following
composer's sty e is .o
end of course, in a great measur~,
~terms:-" I enjoin that such as are beginning the practice of composition
nervous or feeble, will dep
' l
hall have attained mature
-;write
slowly and with anxious deliberation. Their great object, at first,
rly
f l . s mind when 1e s
on the bent o u.
. to begin composing at an ea .. ~
_ . ~ould be to write as well as possible ; practice .will enable them to
years; but, as it is necessary the vicissitudes of natural t~,nt;
. ;write quickly. By degrees, matter will offer itself still more readily;
.'A1vords will be at hand; composition will flow; every thing, as in the
age, it is unsafe to trus_t :oof contracting bad habits, :vh13,
' arrangement .of a well-ordered family, will present itself in its proper
perament, and run. the r1s hard to lay aside. 'f hese d1ffic ,,; .
f~laee. The sum of the whole is this : by hasty composition we shall
when discovered, it may lie . , l .
from the outset, sucp
· d by emp oymg,
· .
cnever acquire the art of composing well; by writing well, we shall soon
t" es it is best to avo1
d The object rn ~o .
·b~ able to write speedily."
.
·
·
t
l
rience recommen .
't
aids as reason anc expe
t to restrain the. flow Ot .
Jif;. § 393. Fourthly, revise carefully. Nothing .i s more neces.fice nature to a,r '
the
doing is not to sacn . d" . d nl"1ty of manner : but, on ..
~Mry to what is written, or more important to the writer.
d t. y 1ll lVl U<>
h" • ~ "
genius, or to. cs ro
l healthy development of t is rn ..:
ii~ Condemn," says Horace, in his Epistle to the Pisos, v.
other hand, to promote t lC
ces suppress those of)~
.,_R92-:294, " condemn that poem which many a day and many a
d"f 't cxtravagan
' ,
"'
viduality ; to mo t y l .s .
bl and cultivate with the .~ .
blot have not corrected, and castigated ten times to perfect ach" h ·e obJectiona e,
. '"'
features w ic ar
. torious and pleasing.
. '~
liracy."
·
uch as are men
'
.... ,,
most care s
.
. z a?ul earnest tho!,fg
. Even the most experienced writers are apt to commit oversights, for
crive ca? efn
w
t n•
1
ti
t
·ite.
:~ ·. ·•
'W¥~h revision is the only remedy. If we put aside what )las been writ§ 390. In the first lp .ace,
1 au propose o w1
. •
n,till the expressions we have used are forgotten, and then review our
to the subject about w iic i y
h
little to do with ~
h'
y seem to ave
ork
with a cool and critical eye, as if it were the performance of anThough at first sight t. is m:twcen the two is in reality extre. t
"-e:r,
we shall discern many imperfections which at first were overformation of style, the relat1~nl:es obtained a full, clear, an~ dee\~.
'
ked.
. This is the time for pruning away redundancies; for seeing
close. Before we have omse 10 Je to communicate such an. i~pr . . •
,
,t
the
parts of sentences are cor~ectly arranged and connected by
view of a subject, we ca1~ no: 1 \ing without first having d1stmctd\a.
'etproper
particles; for observing whether the requirements of gramof it to others. The habit o. w.n 't bly produce a loose, confuse ;
y w1ll mev1 a
.
dt
....
are
strictly
complied with ; and for bringing style into a consistent
of what we mten o sa '
iv;
'8"effective form. Disagreeable.as this labor of correction may be, all
slovenly, style.
re u ently. Rules are of · ..
alt
submit to it who would attain literary distinction, or even express
I
§ 391. Secondly' cm.nposedf:d ~ take the place of pra.o
eir thoughts with ordinary propriety and force. .A little practice will
h
·e not rnten e
o
..
create a critical taste, and render the work if not pleasant, at least
vice, but t ey ar .
·n . e facility of compos1t1on. "
Nothing but exercise w1 g1v
d with
",and tolerable.
9
the third place, co1npose slowly an .
;•
7' '§':'394. In the fifth place, study the style of tlte best au,.
§39 •. In
.t.
th;,i,t ~L lJ:t1l style may
.s~ . Notice their peculiarities ; observe what gives effect
It is to hasty and careless wn wg
-.- "

I

314

.

n

oun" corn poser's style, in a grtllt
On wb!\t will the characteristics ~f
usinog aids in the forma~~~°"-~
d? What is said of the necess y
. "" ,.,
sure, depen
. ?
Wh t la
Whnt is the object in so domg
. to the formation of style?
fl
•.
§ 890. What is the fint rule relating Whnt will inevitably result fro~ "JJ?.
style and thought?
~ ~
connection between
f bat we intend to say?
· f, · ·~
out having distinct ideas o w
' '•
~ 891. What Is the second rule?
' l
§ 38!l.

:f

To what is a bad style genern~ly traceable? What
Ullan's advice on this point?
· · ·•
'i9S: What I~ the fourth rule? . Wbat does 'liornce say on this point? Describe
' \)et effective method of revising. To what, in this process, must the author's
· n be directed? What Is said of the necessity of this labor of correction? · I
"894. What is the fifth rnlo? Explain what is meant by this.. ·What Is said of ser!<.

I,

\.

316

THE FORMING OF STYLE.

EXERCISE . ON STYLE.

.
••
.
m are one w1'tll ano tlI er·.' and , in compo·
. ·"'· "
to the1r wntmgs 1 co P
. f
d · 'it ate their beauties. ·
'd their au1ts an im <
,
sing, endeavor to avo1 ,
d d This is in the highest ,
. . · t'
· here recommen e ·
0
N servile 1m1ta 10n rs
. .
.
t'ff s and artificiality of ,
rally resulting rn s I nes
.
'
degree dangerous, gene
h' h . f tal to success m CO!ll· ..~
k f If nfidence w rc is a
•
manner, and a lac o _se -cof
·'t ' tl1or's peculiar phrases or con·
A 'd d tmg a avon e au
h'
.
position;
vo1 a ~p · .
. . ,,
s Blair, "to have somet mg · ·
struetions. "It is rnfimt;l~10bdeet1~=:~ b:;1ty, than to affect to shine
that is our
~ I 'JI t Inst betray the utter poverty
<!f "
d own, though
its wh1e 1 w1 , a •• '
· h
borrowe ornamer •
.· . t' g it to one whrc we •
'f ·
. tyle by as,1m1 1a m
our genius." M~d1 yrng o~n sth
Id has stamped with its approval,
particularly admire, or. which e ~or . de our own individuality en~
1
is quite a different th~~g fr~;la:rn~a:: but a slight chance of bei~~;·
tirely, to adopt anothe1 s, w ic w
·.
.·J.t ,

i? .

able to maintain.
.
· .·
a good style than
No exercise is likely to aid us ~~re mot:~::1:~inent English
to translate frequently from the kw1 i;1~g~ t nee a page of Addison
.
ords . to ta e 101 ms a
'
th " .
thor into
' d l't over
' . u Iitil we have fully mastered · ,,
'tl our down';
havmg rea
Goldsm1
i, an '
.
1
·de the b ook an d a ttempt to reproduce the p ·
meanmg, to ay as1
.
f h t we have written with the or1
A comparison o w a
.
d h.
from memory.
.
1 t the faults of our style consist, an ; o
nal will then show us m w la
·1 d1'fferePt modes of expressing ~f
t th m . and among t ie
•
•
.,
we may
correc
e
'
'
. which is the most beautiful ,
th
h t will enable us to perceive
same oug ,
t u fr~

ad··

qr

§ 395. Avoi'd sum' mannerism as would preven yo ·J! ,. ·
7
to your subl)'ect and to the .capacity.
.
la 1Jtinu
your st yie
.
ar.
'L
.s
l
l
Ireep
the
obJ'
ect
proposed
m
view,
.an
ti; se you arc. c. ess.
.l..
•
h
.;'ill
w
f
·
be
strictly
conslStent
t
1 t our mode o expression
.
t~:

erew1~

{i.

e
is more absurd than to attempt a florid, poe) i
No nng
.
hen it is our business only to reasonf
style, on occasions w
·
b £
erson
t
. k with elaborate pomp of expression, e ore p .. ·•
o spea
.
.
. .bl
:~i
whom such magnificence is unmtelbg1 e.
. "
~rISCELLANEOUS

EXERCISE ON THE ESSENTIAL PROPERTI~S ~F .••
ll
In the following sentences, ma k e su ch corrections
. . .as.
01'
. d by the rules for Purity, .Propriety,
Prec1s10,n, .
reqmre
.
ness, Strength, Harmony, and Umty . -

be~'

. .
loes Blair say on this subject? Show the difference
vile im1tat10n? What l
d .
What exercise Is likely to aid UI'
eervlle imitation and the course here a v1set.1
···2 • •.

qul;i~~5~ ;;~~ts~;lt~1: Inst ruf(), relating to
Whl\t ad\'lce ts r;i ven on this hcncl?

tho adaptation of tho sty lo to.:

~~f"'

.

1
.: .,,

317'

1. Misfortunes never arrive singly, but crowd upon us en masse when
we are least able to resist them. 2. A [peaceable, or peaceful~] valley;
. · ...:_a [peaceable, or peacefuH] disposition. 3. I decline accepting of the
·· ,situation. 4. Petrarch was much esteemed by his countrymen, who, even
· · at the pn:!sent day, mention with reverence the poet of Vaucluse and tlte
_friventor of tlie sonnet. 5. This is so; and so cruel an [~ct, or action FJ has
• rarely been heard of. 6. The lad can not leave his father; for, if he
.: should leave him, lte would die. 7. The works of art receive a great
·. ~advantage from the resemblance which they have to those of nature,
. .. ;because here the similitude is not only pleasant, but the pattern is percl .feet. 8. A friend exaggerates a man's virtues; one who is hostile .en. deavors to rnagnijy his crimes(§ 374). 9. This is not a principle that we
:can act on and adhere to. 10. Diana of the Ephesians · is great. · 11.
, We do things frequently that we repent of afterwards. 12. · Great and
.rich men owe much to chance, which gives to one what it takes from
• .•others. 13. There are tliose who allow their envy of those wlio are more
·fortunate · than themselves to get the better of them to such an extent
. that they try to injure thern all they can. 14. [Classic, or ' classicaH]
) And English school ;-a [classic, or classical ?J statue. · 15. Running out
'',to see whether there was a new erneute, wluch the hauteur of the new
overnvr rendered very plausible, I came within an ace of being done for.
16. They attempted to remain incog. 17. If a man have little merit, he
' need have much modesty. 18. The laws of nature are truly what
Lord Bacon styles his aphonsms,-Iaws of laws. Civil laws are always
;Jinperfect, and often false deductions from them, or applications of them;
. ~ay, they stand, in many instances, in direct opposition to them. 19.
''Being content with deserviug a triumph, he refused the honor of it. 20.
'fl'hat temperamental dignotions, and conjectures of prevalent humors,
'may be collcctcrl from spots in our nails, we are not averse to concede.
·21. It cannot be impertinent or ridiculous, therefore, in such a country,
whatever it might be in the Abbot of St.. Real's, which was Savoy, I
.thiq.k; or in Peru, under the Incas, where Garcilasso de la Vega says it
~as1 lawful for noue but the nobility to study-for men of all . degrees
themselves in those affairs wherein they may bo actors, or ·
'J!idges of.those that a?t, or controllers of those that judge. · 22. The moon -'
as .castrng a pale light on the numerous graves that were ·scattered f
ore me, as it peered above the horizon when I opened the little gate .
:J the church-yard. 23. This work, having been fiercely attacked by
'tics, he proposes for the present to lay aside. 24. Men look with an :
' ·eye upon the good that is in others, and think that their reputation .
tltern, and that t/teircommendable qualities do stand in their light;
4therefore they do what they can to cast a cloud over them, that thq
'ght shining of their virtues may not obscure tltem. 25. In this uneasy
te; both of his public-and private life, Cicero was oppressed by a new
,1cruel affliction, the death o~· his beloved daughter, Tullia; w.hicb
ppened soon after her divorce from Dolabella, whose manners · and
· ors were entirely disagreeable to lter. 26. The erroneous judgment ·
. ~parents concerning the conduct of schoolmasters, has crushed th~,
. of many au ingenious man who is engaged in the care of youth;
paved the way to the ruin of hopeful boys. 27. The discontented
. (as his spleen irritates and sours his temper, and leads him to dis. e its venom on nil with whom he st.ands connected) is never found
,e11t a great share of maliguity. 28. 1Ve have been choused out of om

~ instruct

~ures

;tttif

318

CRITICISM.

CRITICISM.

rights by these clod-polls and blackguards. 29. As no on e is fr~e from.
f ults so few want good qualities (§378). 30. No man of f eeling can.
l~ok ~pon the ocean without f eeling an emotion of grandeur. 31.. The·
rnercenariness of man y tradesmen leads. ~hem .t~ sp.eok derogatorily o~: .
t.heii· ncighuors. ;>2. \Yith Cicero',; 1.1.T1.tmg\ it 13 1:1:1M 1-lrnt. young di-:
vines sho~ld be cun vers;-.n t; but they slwulJ nut gt ve Lhem the preforence to Demosthenes, who, by many deg ree.s, excelled the othe.r; at le.ase
as an orator. 33. After he hns finished Ins elem~ntary studie~, which~
will discipline his miud, and fit it for the purst~1t of more advan~ed;
branches, I advise him to comme_nce with the anc.1~11.t laugunges, whi~h
will, by easy stages, prepar.e him fo!· the acqmsit10u of the modern.,
tongues; whence h e may with propncty proceed to the careft~l study~
of the high er departments of mathematics and b elles-lettres, wluch form,
an important part of every scholar's ednc.ation .. 34: .such were th~
prudence and energy of Cicero's course d.urmg this c~·1tical state of .af. ;
fairs that his countrymen overlooked Ins seif-conceitednes~, and vie,~.
ith each other in t estifying their r espect to" the father of l11s country ·'.
He iMed to use many expressions, which, though useful, are not u;~'
ally itsed, and have not come into general use.
; ·($ ·

;5.

--·-·-· -LESSON LXVI.

those great productions which have been admired as beautiful
m every age. Nor has beauty been the sole ·object ' of the
critic's search. Truth, particularly in history and the sciences: it !ms !Jecn his province not only to seek out, but, when
found, to use as a balance in weighing the objects on which he
passes judgment. The office of criticism, therefore, is, first to
establish the eHse~tial ideas which answer to our conceptions
· ~.f the beautiful or the true in each branch of study; and next
to point out, by reference to these ideas, the . excellencies or
deficiencies of individual works, according as they approach, or
yary from, the standard in question.
!
·
. , ·;,'. Thus historical criticism t eaches us to distinguish the true from the
· false, or the probable from the improbable, in historical works': scientific criticism has in view the same object in each re3peetive lfoe of
science : litemry criticism, in a general sense, investigates the merits
and demerits of style or · diction, according to the received standard of
excellence in every language ;· while, iii poetry and the arts, it develops
the principles of that more refined and exquisite sense of beauty which
· ~orms the ideal model of perfection in each.
·
r. · § 398. R elation between its ancient and its present characer.-Criticism originated among the Greeks and Romans at an
~arly day, and was carried by them to a high degree of perfec.
ion. Aristotle, Dionysius Halicarnasseus, and Longinus,
Jlhong the former, and, among the latter, Cicero .and Quintil"' .did much towards awakening a critical .taste' ·in ,, their
4zi,
.· e.apective countrymen; enabling them to appreciate proprie~y
Jl~J diction, and making them acquainted with .. those minute
,11-tters, which, however insignificant they may appear, are
S§ential to effective composition.

·

CRITICISM.
• ••.A

'r,dJ:"

§ 396. Dqinition.-Criticism (from the Greek Kp{vi>~:~i·

fudge) may be defined as the art of judging with propriety c~~.
cerning any object or combination of objects. I_n the ~or~
limited signification in which it is generally used, its prov:u~
is confined to literature, philology, and the fine arts, and'.:tO
subjects of antiquarian, scientific, or historical investigat,iq
In this sense, every branch of literary study, as well
of the arts, has its proper criticism.
··~
§ 397. Rules.-It is criticism that haS"devcloped the ~1 ·
and principles of Rhetoric. As was remarked when w~ : ~1
entered on the study of this subject, its rules are not .ar
trary, but have been deduced from a careful examinatf5l_li
. . ! ·~

§ 396. From what is the term criticism derived? What does it signify ~~~
erally used, to what is it confined?
. , ,:, •
§ 397. How have th e rul es nnd principles of rhetoric been developed? W

The · classical critics, however, confined themselves mainly to that
,p.ar.t ment of their art which has reference to the principles of beauty.
e_ir sphere of knowledge being more limited than ours, their minds
~ b~nuty bas b een the object of the critic's search? What, then, Is tho office ' of
.Uclsm? What does historical criticism teach us? What is the object of scientific
clsm? What, of literary criticism?
S.~?8. , What is said of criti cism among th e ancient Greeks and P.omans ?, What
. ~!s .are mention ed RS clistln guisherl in this departm ent? What effect dirl their
produce on their countrymen? To what did the classical critics confine them•

320

CRITICISM.

I

ii

CRITICISM.

were more sedulously exercised in reflecting on their own perceptionS;
Hence the astonishing progress they made in the fine arts; ~nd hen.ce,
in literature, beauty of language and sentiment was their .lughest ~IIIL
Accordingly, the criticisms of antiquity relate almost exclus1ve.ly literature and the arts; ancl the term is, therefore, still confined, m Its most
popular signification, to those province~ of r~senrch. .
.
..
The criticism of Truth, which pertams chiefly to lustory and scien~~· .
was of later origin ; but may be regarded as closi)ly allied ~o ~he crit1·
eism of beauty, inasmuch as it is regulatecl by analogous prmc1ples, _and, .·
minds which possess a high degree of judgment in the one nr~ g~ner~UY,
capable of forming right apprehensions in the other. One prmc1ple, Im· .
portant to be notecl, is equally true of each: :hat, whether b.eauty. or .
truth is the aim, extcnsi ve know ledge of the subject, as well as educatlo~
an cl practice, is neccssnry in the sound critic ;-~et know ledge a~one .1s
not sufficient; the ability to discriminate and Judge correctly Is stiJ.l.
more important, and this no knowledge, however gr~at: ca~ supply. To,' ·
be acquainted with a rule, and to be able to apply it rn difficult case~"­
are entirely different things.
. ·~

:o

§ 399. Literary Criticism.-W e have here to. do wit,
criticism, only so far as it pertains to the works. of hteratm .
The rules of good writing having been deduced. i.n the manner "
above described, it is the business of th~ cnt1~ to ~rnpl0
them as a standard, by a judicious compans~n with w~1ch:~t
may distinguish what is beautiful and w.hat is faulty m eve~.
erformance. He must look at the sentiments express.ed; a.
~udge of their correctness and consistency ; he must ".iew:,~lie·
performance as a whole, and see whether it clearly and prop_
ly embodies the ideas intended to be ?onve!ed j he mus_~
amine whether there is sufficient variety m the st~le, :-'
·note its beauties, and show, if it is susceptible of impr.,
ment, in what that improvement should c~nsist i. he mu~~J:
whether the principles of syntax or rhetoric ar.e v~ol_ated 1 '~!~
finally, must extend his scrutiny even to the md1v1du~~ ~,~9>:

e~ployed. And all this must be done without allowing prej.i.dwc to bias his decisions, or the desire of displaying his <nYn
knowledge to lead him from the legitimate pursuit of his
subject.
·.'
I

The critic must be guided by feeling as weli as rules· otherwise his
efforts will result in a pedantry as useless as it is distast~ful He sh~uld
not, on account of minor imperfections, condemn, as a whole, a perfr>rm' ance which evinces in its author deep and correct feeling, or possesses
other merits equally important. He should carefully draw .a distinction
, between what is good and what is bad, giving full credit for the ~ne and
showing how to correct the other. His criticisms should not be con, fined to little faults and errors, which no writer, however careful,· has
been able entirely to avoid. A true critic will rather dwell on ' excellencies than on imperfections; will seek to discover 't he concealed be~u­
. · ties of a writer, and communicate to the world such things as are .w orthy
· ·· .of their observation. This, indeed, is a more difficult task, and involves
._ a more delicate taste and a profounder knowledge, than indiscriminate
~~t-finding. As Dryden has justly remarked,
.
. ' ·
"Errors, like straws, upon the surface flow;
He who would search for pearls, must dive below."

§ 400. Abuse.-The most exquisite words and finest·strokes
~an author are those which often appear most exceptionable
a man deficient in learning or delicacy of taste · and it is
'
'
, ~ese
that a captious and undistinguishing critic generally
at·
~cks with the greatest violence. In this cairn,· recourse is
ten had to ridicule: A little wit is capable of makiiig" a
~ty as well as a blemish the subject of derision. ·Though
. ~h treatment of an author may have its effect with 'some; who
~· oneously think that the sentiment criticised · is ridiculous
s"foad of the wit with which it is attacked, yet in the intelli~
.fut reader it will naturally produce indignation or disgust.
".'When, moreover, a critic frequently indulges in such a cou~·se; he is
:~ find fault with every thing against which he can bring this· fa.

G•
9
Ho,~ 1·s the astonishing proo-ress
of the ancients In the fine arts explained! .
0
se Ives.
·•
d"d th ·
·t1~'
literature, what was their highest aim? Accordingly, tll wh,at 1.
e1r cri .... ,.,. ,
late? To what does the criticism of truth chiefly refer? '' hn~ is. the conn~
tween it and tho criliclsm of beau_ty? What important prmmple Is _eq 1
of both?
·
·
§ 399. With what department of criticism have we here to do?
,
rlous duties of the literary critic. By what must ho be guided? To wha.t~

c18ms not be confined? On what will the trne critic dwell? Is the dlqcovery of
U_es or defects the more difficult task? What couplet of Dryden's illustrates
point?
J'4oo. What is said of an author's most exquisite words and finest strokes? To
does .the malicious critic often have recourse? What is said of the use of wit or
, -e In criticism? What habit Is a critic who indulges In ridicule apt to form? How
?try. of this kind characterized?
, ,:

14*

••

-

322

CRITICISM~

CRITICISM.

vorite weapon to bear; and often censures a passage, n~t because ~here
is any thing wrong in it, but merely from the fact that it affords lum a~
opportunity of being merry at another's expe~1se. Such pleasantry ~
unseasonable, as well as disingenuous and unfair.
l

§ 401. Objections.-The objection most commo~ly urged
against criticism is that it abridges the natural liberty of1
genius, and imposes shackles which are fatal to freedo1~ of,
thought and expression. This argument has be:n noticed .
before. It is sufficient here to say that the cuttm~ ~:ff of, ~
faults cannot be called an abridgment of freedom; or, if it can!
it is well that such freedom should be abridged. The reason~
le author is not unwilling to have his work examined by th~
ab
l h" ·
principles of good taste and sound understanding ; ~nc t is l~
all that the true critic proposes to do. There may, mdeed, b~ ~
some unreasonable critics who carry their strictures to th~ ·
verge of penmnal abuse; but their violence. ?i:'"es no mor~ .
ground for objecting to healthy and proper cnt1~1sn: th~u ~he
fact that there are unsound reasoners affords for 111ve1ghmg.
against all logic.
.
.
. .
A more -specious objection is sometnnes. made; :"~10h ~!!,
aimed particularly at the principles o~ which cnt1c1sm 18,
founded. These, it is charge d, are arbitrary and untrue, be• cause it sometimes happens that what the critic condemns t~-\
public receive with approbation. Were this often the caa~"t
there would be ground to doubt whether the art of the cri~ic,
and indeed all the departments of rhetoric, are not resting·_o_ a false foundation. Such instances, though very rare,-, Ao
sometimes occur. It must be admitted that works containin,
gross violations of the rules of art have attained a general a):}~
even a lasting reputation. Such are the play~ of Shak~peare;_
which considered as dramatic poems, are irregular m tt!{e
highe~t degree. But it must , be ob~erved that .they 4.~)i
gained public admiration, not by theu transgressions o~~~~
'

....

§ 4.01. What is most commonly urgecl as nn objection agRinst criticism 1 Bow
tbls objection answered? ·whnt more specious objectio n Is sometimes advan
·what admission is made? Explain bow this fact furnishes no argument in favor:of<

.323

'

laws of criticism, but in spite_ of such transgressions. -- The·
beauties they possess, in points where they conform -to the
rules of art, are sufficient to overshadow their blemishes and
inspire a degreo of satisfaction superior to the disgust arising
~rorn the latter.
Shakspeare . pleases, ·not _by bringing the
transactions of many years into one play,· not by his mixture
of trage_dy and comedy in the same piece, nor by his strained
thoughts and affected witticisms. These we regard as blemishes, traceable to the tone of the age in which he lived. But
these faults are forgotten in his animated and masterly repre. ' sentations of character, his lively descriptions, his striking and
original conceptions, and above all his nice appreciation of
the emotions and passions of the human heart ; beauties which
: true criticism teaches us to value no less than nature enables
. fa
" us to feel.
" - : -·· V\T e have not here the space for an example of extended
_;_ criticism. lllair, whose lucid pen, correct taste, sound judgment, and extensive reading, eminently fitted him for the task,
urnishes in his lectures (xx-xxiv) several admirable -papers
~on the style of Addison and Swift.
To these, the student
' ~ho wishes specimens of critical writing extended to some
length, will do well to refer. \Ve here present a brief exami:{!:ation of two passages in which verbal criticism , is , ~xem- r:.
plified.
. ,. : J
I

-

·c.· :~

:·;~_;;

·~~. •.·. _
\

SPECIMENS OF VERBAL CRITICISM.
.
.

..

,

.

.. .

'. _
',·· -

i;l. "Man, considered in himself, is a very helpless and a very wretched being.
, .
i".unched alone on the sea of life, he ·w ould soon suffer shipwreck." _

, ;iwe have h ere a

proposition strikingly true, expressed in clear and
9,rcible terms. The first word, "man", is universally employed by the
best authors as an appellative for the human race. "Man, considered
,in- himself", signifies, the human family viewed as individuals inde~ndent of each other. In this state, says the author, he is "a very
li'elpless peing ". The t erm "helpless" here implies the want of power
*°' succor himself: and it is evident that, if man were left to himself in
. ncy, he would perish ; and that, if altogether detached from society
' ·manhood, it would be only with g reat difficulty that he could procure
r himself either the comforts or the necessaries of life.
•r.
tor. Whose productions are instnnced as having gnlned a world-wide popularity
of their Irregularities? To whnt is this popularity attributable?

~lte

I·

-· - - - . . 1,

324

CRITICISM.

But man, "considered in himself'', is not only a very helpless, but
also "a very wretched being". It will be observed that additional emphasis is here communicated by the repetition of the article and the
adverb. He is uot merely a very helpl ess au<l wreleheJ being', hut "Q
very helpless and a very wretched be ing". The te rm" wrct.chcd" is
gencrall.v used as sy-11011:.·rnous with unhappy or miscra/J!c; but. in this
piu;sngc, it expresses the meaning of the a nth or more precisely than
either of these words would have done. Un!urpp!J mny denote merely
the uneasiness of a man who may be linppy if he pleases; the discontented arc unh:ippy, tweni1se thry think oth0rn more prosperous tl1:1n
themselves. jjJi:srraMe is applie (l to ]'e rsnns whose lllinds nre tormented
by the stings of conscience, ngitatcd by the vi olence of 11nssion, or
harassed by worldly vexations; and, accordingly, we sa.y lhat wicked
men are miserable. But, "wretched", derived from the Saxon word for
an exile, litemlly signifies cast away, or abandoned. Hen ce appears the
proper application of the word in this sentence: man, if left to himself,
might indeed exist in a solitary state without being either unhappy or
miserable, provided his bodily wants were supplied; though he cer·
tainly would be a very "wretched" being, JV hen cl eprivetl of all the
comforts of social life, and irll the endcarmeuts of fri ends and kindred. ,
Having thus stated his proposition, the author illustrates it with a ·
metaphor. The figure, though appropriate, is trite; life has, from time '
immemorial, been compared to a sea, aud man to a voyager. An origi· . ·
nal comparison, which a little thought could hardly have failed to sug·
'J
gest, would have been more striking and effective.
1·

i
!

I'
I

\

t.

I
l

I

/

PART IV.
PROSE

LESSON

2. "Education is the most excellent endowment, ns it enlarges the mind, promotel
lts powers, and renders a man estimable in the eyes of society."

This sentence, though it conta,ins many pompous words, is a remark·
able example of a style which lack~ propriety. ~ducation is not ~
"endowment"; for an endowment 1s a natural gift, such as taste or
imagination. Education does not "enlarge" the "mind"; though1it
may, in a figurative sense, enlarge its capacities.. Neither can it "promote" the mental "powers" themselves ; but it may promote theirimo
provement. Nor does it follow, that, because a man has improved hill
mind by education, he is on that account "estimable'', esteem being produced only by intrinsic worth ; but a good education may render a man
respectable. The sentiment which the author intended to convey should
have been expressed thus: "Education is the most excellent attainment..
as it enlarges the capacities · of the mind, promotes their improveme
and renders a man respectable in the eyes of society."
q\~

COMPOSITION.

LXVII.

INVENTION. -AN ALY SIS

OF

SUBJECTS.

iL: § 402. UP t~ the present point, the attention of. h
., .:t~~ h~~ been directed chiefly to the dress in which h~ s~o~~
e rs thoughts i "'.e now proceed to the thoughts them9. ves,_ and those practical exercises in composition to
.~~ whrch bas been the ObJ"ect of th
d"
'
prep~re
' ·' T
e prece mg pages . .
i ' he process of evolving thoughts . .
.
. .
m connect10n with any
· ,,.ar t"icu1ar sub· t · k
Jee is nown as INVENTION. It is this th t f
....:;·,
I~_hes the. material of composition, and on whi"ch, . a ur1
m a great
·""'
~easure, its va ue depends.

.1··i

~ •.

He:e, m~r~over, lies most of. the difficulty which ti
ence rn wnting L t th
ie young expe.' l fi d .
.
e
em have definite thoughts and they will
y n It easy to express th
I
B
'
gen.'~h'' intangible things. to foremmtsle ves. • ut how are they to deal
'
ure that, when formed th
·n 1eb necessary conce p t"ions ; an d to
'
'
ey
WI
e worthy of being embodied an d
•.
_f,4,02. Up to the present point, to what bas the stud '
~hat do we now proceed? WI t i I
.
cnt 8 attention been directed?
rn s n ventwn ? What d
it f
.
.'?ct t b e d1tliculty which th e J'Olln"' cxperi
oes
urnfah? What Is
"
en ce 1n wr1ting ?
.

-

- -,
326

INVENTION.

ANALYSIS OF SUBJECTS.

ter of this passion r-What are its usual effects on . individuals r...;.;.To
what may the angry man b.e compared r-What examples does history
afford ?- What has been _said ~y others respecting .Anger ¥-What are
the best m_odes of regulatmg this passion, or of avoiding its occasions?What are ~ts effects on society 1-Draw a contrast between a man of
calm, placid, temper, and one of a hasty, irritable, disposition.-Show
the. ad vantage, under as many heads as possible, of regulating angry
feelrngs.
·

preserved in language 1 This question we now proceed to_ answer;. not
claiming that the want of ini,cllectual ability can be supplied by this or
any other course; yet believing that those to w_hom composition is di:itasteful, will, by pursuing the plan here prescnbed, find most of their
difficulty vanish, and that all who fairly test the system will improve
more rapidly than they could do if left to chance or their own unaided,
efforts.
§ 403. As soon as a subj ect has been selected, the firs~

thing required is thought,-careful, deliberate, concentrate~,
thought. ·when Newton was asked how he bad succeeded m
making so many great discoveries, he replied, "By thinking."· .~
This labor_ the composer must undergo ; no instruction or aid_
from foreign sources can take its place. It must be ~atie~t :.
and deliberate thought, moreover, not hasty or superficial j it,
must be original thought, not a reproduction of the ideas of,_ .~
others·1 it must be well-directed thought, fixed on a definite ~ .
object, and not allowed to wander from one thing to anothe.r j
it must be exhaustive thought, embracing the subject in all its .
T

relations.
When this task has been fairly performed, the next step
is in order. This is an Analysis of the subject, or a drawing"
out of the various heads which suggest themselves
mind as appropriate to the theme of discourse. Such ~ea~~
will of course differ according to the subject under cons1deF~'
tion, as will appear when we treat in turn of the differen~
kinds of composition. There is so general a resemblanc~ be· .
tween them, however, that from an example or two there will
be no difficulty in underst~nding what is here meant.
."
Suppose, for instance, that ANGER is the subject. On a little refleoo
tion, such questions as the following will suggest themselves to the-~omposer; and, as they occur, h e notes them down.
:t •
What is meant by the t erm Anger ?-What visible effect does thil ·
passion produce on the pers0J1 indulging in it ?-:--How doe~ he feel, wh
his fit of passion has subsided ?-.Morally spealnng, what IS the ch~~at'
,

Here then is the germ of a composition. Abundant material is now
at hand. Thoughts beget thoughts; from these ideas,' others will naturally sprii~g d'.1ring the process of writing. Before proceeding to this,
however, it will be necessary to arrange these heads in their proper
order, so that a logical connection may be preserved throughout the
"'.hole. The leading subject of inquiry must be kept ~onstantly in
~iew, a~d ~11 thoughts must be rejected that do not bear directly upon
it. Umty 1~ as .necessary in an extended composition as i~ .a single
sentence. 'I he time to ensure sequence and un~y of parts is when the
.Analysis is being revised. Beginning with n general introduction, arran.gi.ug properly, enlarging on some of the heads by following out-the
~rams of thought suggested, and closing with practical reflections the
Analysis, as improved by the writer, would stand as follows:'
ANALYSIS OF AN ESSAY ON ANGER.

In_troduction. The passions in general; relation which anger sus·
tarns to the rest.
D efinition. What anger is. A proverb found in various languages says it is "a short-lived madness." Show why.
1. A man in a violent fit of anger looks as if he were insane· show
·'
in what resp ects.
2. I;lis mind is. bey<;md the con~rol of reason and judgment; it is
hk~ a chariot without a dnver, or a ship in a storm. without
a pilot.
. .
· .. · · •
3. He says and does things so unreasonable that they mu~t be the
resu lt of temporary derangement. He may be compared to a
tornado, a mountain torrent, or a conflagration, to whose fury
none can set bounds, and whose disastrous effects are visited
·
·
even on the innocent.
4. The world, and even the law, in a meas~re deal with him as if
h e were a maniac.
'
· ·. ,
Even the angry mau himself admits that he has no control over
his reason, deeming it su~cient apolo~y for th~ most unseemly
. blow or word to say that It was done m a pass10n.
,· .
!

~~ f

.. '•;

~

· .or.

e8e questions furnish?
§ 403. When a subject has been selected, whn~ is the first th.ing re~ulred? •1 . .,
kiml of thought is h ere referred to? To whn:t dHl Newton nttnbutc Ins disco.~~ ·.
·what step Is next in order? Wbnt is meant by nnnlyzing n subject? Suppose~ 1Wtl
to be the th eme, what <J.U estions " ·ill suggest th emselves to tho composer? What ,

Before proceed ing to write out the matter they suggest, what
What must be kept in view? What is essential in an extended
position, as well ns in a ~inglc sentence? What is the time for insuring sequence
,' tl~lty of parts? As properly arranged and ready for the writer, give nn analysl9
-~Essay on An(Jer.
·
f, .

I~ necessary to do?

328

ANALYSIS OF SUBJECTS.
Al\fPLIFICA TION.

III. Feelings which follow its indulgence. Mortification ; humiliation;
regret at what may have been done under the influence of passion. "An angry man,'' says Publius Syrus, "is again angry
with himself when he returns to reason." He may be likened to
a scorpion which stings itself as well as others.
IV. Historical Illustrations. Cain and Abel; Alexander the Great
and Clitus ; &c.
V. Moral Character of Anger. At variance with the principles
of the Gospel. " ·w rath is cruel, and auger is outrageous."
Prov. xxvii., 4.
VI. Quotations. ·what do others say of anger 1
A passionate man rides a horse that runs away with him.
j)faunder's Proverbs.
Anger begins with folly, and ends with repcntance.-Jbid.
!{age is the mania of the min<l.-lbid.
A pa~sionatc man scourgeth himself with his own scorpions.
Ray'B Proverbs.
An angry man opens his mouth and shuts his eyes. -Cato.
'• 1
Anger is certainly a kind of baseness, as it appears well in the ·
weakness of those subjects in whom it reigns, children, old folks,
sick folks.-Lord Bacon.
~
When passion enters at the fore-gate, wisdom goes out at the
postern.-Fielding's Proverbs.
·"·)
Anger and haste hinder good connsel.-Ibid.
~
No man is free who does not command himself.-Pytlw.goras.
VII. E.ffects of Anger on Society.
I. In individuals, leads to crime, as in the above examples.
Makes one enemies, and becomes a source of adversity. Draw
a contrast between a man of placid temper and one of hasty
disposition.
.
2. In families and communities, produces hard foelinga

329

sidered in the next lesson. · F ll
d b
·
o. owe
a careful revision, it comp·letes
th e process of composing,· hi
h
three steps:w c consISts, to sum up our remarks, of
Y.

I. Roughly drafting all the thoughts suggested by the sub' t
.
~ec.
. rrangrng and enlarging these into a formal A 1 .
III
. .
.
na ys1s.
. Amphfyrng this Analysis into a composition.
To some, this three-fold process m
.
.·
ay seem to mvolve unnecessary
labor· but e
'
xpc1ience proves that these st
11 b
and the composition written in less time t?s e:n a ,e properly taken,
of attempting to write without an
. ian y tl~e common method
It will at tl
·
Y gmde of the kmd here proposed
,
ie same time, be found a fa
.
·
rl m~re satISfactory· and interesting mode of proceeding . and ·11
w1 resu t m the produ t'
f
. .
'
meritonous composition Tl
•
c ion o a more
f • •t•
.
.
iose w1lo are m the hab't
1
· almost invariably make a
r .
o wr1 rng much,
. ter what they are aboub.t:::~mi:a:y Analysis oft~eir. subjeet,,no mat-:
' brief of his points. and th
? . t. The lawyer always draws up a
0 mm is er a correspond·
·
'
b t
·
mg a s ract of his
sermon. It is expected th ,. . h' .
. .
' ere101 e t at m every e
th t d
' fore attempting to write h'
.'
.'
ase, e s u ent, be,. ' here suggested.
is exercise, will draw up the two Analyses, as

II A

-·

~

ExErrcISE.-Draw up careful and exhaustive Analyses,
i~ the plan here described, of the subjects EnucATION and
_ ~EATH,
'

happineR~.

3. lu nations, causes war twJ ull its attcmlaut evils.
VIII. Best .Jfodes of regulating this passion.

IX. Conclusion. Our own duty in this respect, and
gain by controlling our angry feelings.
Here, in its proper form, is an abstract of what the writer intenda
to say. Of course, the words and formal divisions used above will noi
appear in his composition. They are merely the means of ensuring '&
proper arrangement and exhaustive examination of the subject. Thj
Invention is now in a great measure clone ; all that remains is to embodj
these thoughts in proper language, according to the rules and principl•
already considered at length, and to interweave with them such fu .
matter as presents itself. This is called Amplification, and will be. '
In a composition from this analy sis, what will not appear? For what are
u sed? What now remain s? What is the process called ? Ily whnt must It "'
.
.
"'
lowed? Enumorato th o three steps to be tnkcn In colllposlng. What mar,..

LESSON LXVIII.
AMPLIFICATION.
,
Tu~ analysis completed, the next step is AMPLI!.CATIO.N. This, as already explained, consists in enlar in
o ~the
ideas before expressed uncle . th
.
h
g .g
.
.
r e vanous eads throwg m appropriate additional matter and form in
'
1
. ~consistent whole.
'
g a compete
What d?es experience prove with regard to It?
the habit of writing? What Is expected of the
tho subject nnd •properly nrrang!ng the bends, what .Is the

--------330

AMPLIFICATION.

AMPLIFICATION.

The following example will serve to illustrate the process to ~hich : . · ,
we refer. A bi·ief and simple proposition is he~·e made the basis of,
several successive amplifications, in each of wluch some new fact o(
circumstance is added.
1. Alexander conquer ed the Persians. ~ . . of "'faccdon, conquered
2. Alexander the Great, the son of I h1hp
~·

:.e~{::~der

b~i~g chose~;

the
the Great, the son of Philip of. Macedon,
.
of the Greeks destroyed the empire of the Pe1s1ans.
1. ·
genera 1ss1mo
'
. . f M cl
being chosen
4 Alexander the Great, the son of Plu 11p o . ace on, ~ .
h '·
gene;·alissimo of . the Greeks, destroyed the empHe of the I ersians, t ~ .
inveterate enemies of Greece.
.
G . t tl
f
years before Chnst, Alexander the · 1 ea , ie son o .
5 About "30
0
Pl T. of Mac edon being chosen generalissimo ~f the Greeks, deskoy~dl.
of the Persians, the inveterate enemies of
'r-''
6 About 330 years before Christ, Alexander. the. Gre:i , ie son o -I.
PhT. of Macedon after a long series of splenc11d v10tones, ~ucceeded
in ~:~lolishing the' empire of the Persians, the1 ancient and mveterat~.:,
enemies of Grecian liberty.
.
..
. ·h r .
Analogous to such an amplification of a simple propo:1tion, .1s t - ~
production of a composition from an analysis like that furmshed m, th~ .
1
from one . head to anothe1, .h~
1as t l esson. Wllen the writer passes
·
...,
should commence a new paragraph; that is, leavrng blank the rem am~!l'
der of the line on which he has been writing, he should pass to the ~ex~J
d
menee about an inch from the left edge of the page. Tl~~
a~ . _con:is impo1
.
·tan t · A distinct
relating
toulda. 1.
d1v1s10n
· . . IJOrtion of a composition
.
,
i
particular point, wheth e ~· c.onsrntmg of one sentence 01 of mo1 e, sho • ~
invariably constitute a c11stmct paragraph.
.
., .
.
. e di'fferent writers in the expresswn of then ideas, will •
Of COUIS
,
'
f ' d
amplify in different ways, according to their respe?tive turns o nun ._.
and the amount of thought they bestow on the subject. Yet the gen· "
eral principles stated below will apply in a majority of cases, and may.:
be found of service.

th~ :~pire

Gree~\1

§ 405. As regards the introduction, it must be s~~r .
pointed, and appropriate. On this part of the c?mpos1t~o
much depends, for it is all-important that a good impress~~
be made at the outset. The reader's mind, not yet occu~1
with facts, or fairly engaged in the consideration of the subJ~ ,
is directed chiefly to the words and constructions employ~~~
next step? In what does amplification consist 1 G'.ve n.n example in wh~~ ~~:P!' .
proposition is made the basis of five snccessive amphfic~t10ns. Tn such a~ hpt . W tlqi ·
what Is analogous? ·what is the meaning of commencing a new para.gt ap ·,,, .:
sbouhl a new paragraph be commenced 1 .
. . .
nt that
§ 405. What must be the character of introductions? Why is it nnporta

331"

and, if it finds ground for severe · criticism, will naturally be ·
prejudiced against the author and his work. If the composition is to be short, the introduction should be brief in proportion. In some cases, a formal introduction is unnecessary,
,:'" and the author at once lays down the proposition he intends
· to prove, or defines the subject of which he proposes to treat.
·~ , In this case, the first sentence should be ! brief, forcible, and
jo. striking.
!

I

'

§ 406. An effective introduction is fr,equently made by
· commencing with a general proposition, proce_e d_ing thence to
a_particular statement, and following this with an· individual
application ; as in the following paragraph from The Spectator,
_which would be an appropriate introduction for an .essay on
Art of Music, as practised by the Ancient Hebrews:"-,
· . '~The
f
(General Assertion.) " Music, among those who were styled the
' chosen people, was a religious art. (Particular assertion.) The songs of
. · Sion, which we have reason to believe were in high repute among the
·_ courts of the Eastern monarchs, were nothing else but psalms, and
pieces of poetry, that adored or celebrated the Supreme Being. (Individual assertion.) The greatest conqueror in this holy nation, after the
ni.anner of the old Grecian lyrics, did not only compose the words of,
his divine odes, but generally set them to music himself; after which, ·
hiS works, though they were consecrated to the tabernacle, became the
• n~tional entertainment, as well as the devotion, of his people."

.flf· § 407. The commonest and easiest introduction, however, is ·
.' ofie in which a remark is made respecting the general class to · ·
~:which the object under consideration belongs; . from which re- ;
~ark there is an easy transition to an analogous . statement .
~especting the particular case in question. An example ~ of .
such an introduction follows:.

~~{General Statement.)

p~e~

"Few institutions ean contribute more to
· e civilization, an<l promote moral and intellectual improvement '
ng all ranks of people, than the establishment of public lectures in '
1 y part of the kingdom, periodically repeated after a short interval. ·
rticular Statement.) Such is the light in which are to be considered .'

, ··

'

I

•"

'jl

bid be well written? To what must the length of the Introduction be proportioned?
· ead of presenting n formal introduction, to what does the writer sometimes proild1P Io this case, what shou ld be the character of the first sentenc!1?
1406. How Is an effective Introduction frequently made? Give an example. ' :.
S407. Describe the commonest Introduction. Give au example. Give the substance ·
an Introduction appropriate to the essay on Anger analyzed In the last lesson . .

...;:;;:;:: --~-

•

AMPLIFICATION•

332

.
. 1 m of the Church to be everywhere ,
the discourses appomted by the wise 0
B th ese th e meanest and
h eld on the recurrence of the heventh ·dly~d /11ilosophical treatises on
most illiterate are enabled to h e~r mow duties without expense, and·
every thin g. ~hi~h ~?ncerns t en· severn
'
without sohc1tat10n.
.
ld be appropriate to t 11e essay
An introduction of this character wou
.
.
.
the
on Anger, analyzed in the last lesson; somethmg, for mstancc, l ,e

l

n-

'

.

followrng :- . .
,
n wh en allowed to control his ac- .
Every passion m the bi east of mt~ :
ner of reason is attended
· d by th e conserva IV e pO\v
'
'
·t
tion, unrestram e.
both to himself and t he commmu Y
with t~e unhappiest co1 1 s ~q1~e 11 c·~~~ of th e assions in general, ev?n of
in which he lives. If th~s is t1 'l<l. . the1r nature how emphatically I
those which ar? compar~t1vle~~ m1 ·mthan all ~the r~, disdains th e con-" .
. ,
'.
is it the case with Angm, w uc 1, more
trol of good sense and a sound understandrng.
. .
h' ·':

.

t y trad1t1on or isor '
'
· i,
d tl erefore success- ·
i
.
. Ii
torical fac t is among the most pleasmg, an
• '
b
l
cl ·when the c1rcum-,
ful introductions that cn.n e emp oyc .
'
to which reference is .made is well known, the meri>
st ance
" Tl er e are some to.t
i
"
~
allusion is sufficient j as when we say'
whose charity ties of blood are the_only _o pen sesanie. ·ds Toht .
t y of '' The Forty 'rhieves," m which these wor . ~
s or
.
·
th d or of the robbers
. :
.
the charm used m openrng e o
cur as
f
.
xplanat1on is
.
f
·1·ar·
to
every
one
and
there
ore
an
c
•·
cave is am1 i
'
. .
v.
'
.
If however there is a likelihood t 11n.t some ma,,,_
unnecessar Y·
'
'
.
l b · fl t t 11
be ignorant of the subject alluded to, it is ;vel n~ y o T~ist
the stor ' and then to apply it in the case m qu~st1on.
. .
~ lly done in the following exn.mple, wlnch would be
is grace u
· b' t " Liberty to · •
··able introduction for the su Jee ' ,, .
·
an a d mn
. 1' .
cherished, under whatever form it may appear . -

§ 408. A haj)py allus10n to some·

i

fI
11

I

I

I

. I

I

I

I

~

f fair who by some mysterious law:
"Ariosto t ells a pretty story 0 a • ~· t ce;·tain seasons in the form ·
of her nature, was condemnfd to Tipp~a~fio injured h er during this~
of a foul and pois?nous sn~ ':· . i;~clnded from participation in .!J!t:
riod of h er d1sgmse were o1eve1 " ho in s itc of h er loathsome Bl'i
blessin~s. sh e bestowed., ~t~ t~ tt~s~~f~r;ards prevealed herself in .~
p ect, pitied and pro~eete
h was natural to her; accompam
beautiful a nd celestrnl follrnl:i. "! n c. l e- filled their houses with weal
ted a t lClr WIS l ~.
. . . Li
thefr footsteps, gra1:
d . . torions in war. Such a sp1r1t is
made .th em happy m love, au v1c
.'

tei,i8-

'

333

AMPLIFICATION.

erty. 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 I And happy are those, who, having dared to receive her in
. her degraded a nd fri gh tful shape, shall at length be rewarded by her in
the time of h er beauty and glory."
·

§ 409. A definition may be amplified by presenting the
meaning of the term defined under different forms, if there is
' ·danger of its being misunderstood; by stating'. any erroneous
impression respecting it against which it : may be necessary to
guard; or, negatively, by pointing out in what it does not con·
'.sist. Historical illustrations and quotations . may · be multi··plied according to the reading of the student. . Arguments for
or against a proposition may be extended by enumerating the
,·rparticuln.r instances from which the general truth has been de- ·
. ;) duced, in which case the process is known as · Induction; or
by an appeal to the statements of others, which is ' called the
~~rgument from Testi~nony; or by referring to what is proved or
acknowledged to be true in
similar cases, which is the argu·
.
ment from Analogy. Under the head of effects, we may ex·~end our observations to collateral consequences; or contrast
·~?e subject under discussion with its opposite, as regards the
· 1esults which follow fr om each. The conclusion, in · many
cases, mn.kes a practicn.l application of the subject; which may
~~ diversified by appealing to the conscience, or sense of right
and wrong; to the selfish propensities, on which considerations
Qf: expediency act; to the common sense, which weighs what
~ ! said, and opens the mind of the candid enquirer to ·conviction; or to the feelings, which awaken the sympathy, and
er~uade, though they may fail to convince.

,,

'

..

§ 409. How may a definition be amplified ? What Is said of historical Illustrations
;<iuotations ? In what three ways may arguments be extended ? . Und er the head
~ffects, how may wo amplify? What docs the conclusion In mnny cases do? How
7 lt be di verslfted ?

···~

334

REVISION AND CORRECTION OF COMPOSITIONS.

LESSON LXIX.
REVISION AND CORRECTION OF COMPOSITIONS.

§ 410. Revision. of Com,positions.-When a composition has
been prepared according to the suggestions in the last two
lessons, the next thing is to revise it. Before this is at· ·
tempted, a short interval should be allowed to elapse, so that .
the writer may, in a measure, forget the expressions he has used,
and criticise his work as severely and impartially as if it wer~ · .
the production of another.
To ensure time for this important examination, at least a week should :
be allowed for the preparation of each exercise ; the first part of which
should be appropriated by the student to its composition, and the r~·
mainder to its careful correction. In revising, each sentence should b~
read aloud slowly and distinctly, that the ear may aid the eye ind~ . .
tecting faults. The principles laid down for the promotion of Propriety, ·
Precision, Strength, &c., should be strictly followed. \Vhatevcr violates
them must be altered, no matter what the expense of time or troubl~ · :
Even such passages as seem doubtful to the writer, although he may b.e ·.
unable to detect in them any positive error, it will be safest to chan~«:­
The commonest faults are solecisms, tautologies, redundancies, and ·a
want of unity; for the detection of these, therefore, the reviser should
be constantly on the alert. Having satisfied himself that, in these pa?- .
ticulars, his sentences will pass criticism, he should next seek to iii.
crease their effect and enhance their beauty, by improving, polishing,
and ornamenting his style, wheu this can be done without the appeatance of affectation. He should ensure that a proper connecliou is ma~
tained between the parts, supplying omitted matter that may be essen~
to a proper understanding of the train of thought, and omitting what.'
ever of a foreign nature he may at first inadvertently have introduce~
A clean copy is now to be made, in doing which regard must be~~
to neatness of chirography. A careless habit of writing is apt to le;a
to a careless habit of composing, a careless habit of study, and a careleatl!
habit of life. What is worth doing at all, it has been remarked;
tfi.
is worth doing well; and, therefore, though it may seem to some a .f
§ 410. After a composition Is written, what is n ext necessary? What ls said wl~
respect to allowing nn interval between the act of composing and revising? Describe
the process of revision. In mnklng a clean copy, what must be regarrlod? Wh~·'9

335

REVISION AND CORRECTION OF CO.MPOSITIONS •

. fling matter, the careful student will see that his exercise is presented in
' · the neatest possible form. The most convenient paper, as regards size,
· ' is the ordinary letter sheet. A margin of an inch and a half should be
· allowed on each side for the remarks of the teacher. The subject should
occupy a line by itself, should be equally distant from both margins,
-' , ~nd should be written in a larger hand than the rest. Attention must
. be paid to the spelling and punctuation. When there is not room for
<tue whole of a word at the end of a line, it must be divided after one
of its syllables, nnd the hyphen must connect the ·separated parts as
:directed in § 202.
..,

, '°'!

SUGGESTIONS TO THE .TEACHER. ·

I ~

r•.

•I I

i

•

•

I

§ 411. Correction of Compositions.-Most teachers have
.itheir own sy1>tem of examining and correcting compositions;
' •those who have not, may find the following suggestions of ser~, .

) 'lCe:-

,,

~Y'' L Read the exercises presented in the presence of th.e class, and in<:vite criticism from all. The credits allowed should be based, as well
. ~on the promptitude and soundness of the remarks thus . made,
on the
--merits of the performances submitted. It is surprising to see how soon
, this simple exercise develops a critical taste, and what a salutary effect
this taste in turn produces on the style of those in whom it is awakened.
· JJnderline words in which errors of any kind occur, and require the
student to correct them himself. Remarks on the style may with ad. vantage be made by the teacher, and their substance embodied in the
margins left for that purpose.
·· · · '
'

as

!~ !,·~

r•

.~·~

II. In certain words, errors in orthography are very

r. · :

com~on; busi~

'!'!ss is apt to be written buisness; separate, scpcrato; believe, beleive, &c.
w~en such errors occur, let the words be spelled by.the whole class in
9oncert. If, as is often the case, special difficulty is found ' in spelling
. articular words, it is well for the teacher to k.e ep a record of the latter, and to give them to the class from time to time as a lesson in orthography.

' .~~III". In correcting co°:1positions, do not criticise so closely or seve~~ly
as to discourage the pupil; but adapt your remarks to his Jegree of advancement. Let your corrections, in every case, be in harmony with
habit of writing?

What suggestions are made with respect to

" :r ~ 1

336

REVISION AND CORRECTION OF COMPOSITIONS.

MISCELLANEOUS EXERCISES.

the scope and style of the exercise. With beginners, it is well to make .
no other alterations than such as are absolutely required. As the composer advances, his performances may b e more closely criticised, and his
attention may be directed to those nicer points, to which, at au earlier ,
period, it would be inju<licious to refer.

337

I. That a virtue carried to an extreme becomes a fault• and
t~at, therefo~·e, by those who do not look closely enou~h to
discern the line which distinguish.es the two, they are apt to be
eonfounded: apply this in the case of frugality and parsimony.
2. The general c?nsequence of becoming familiar with any thing,
a~d the particular consequence of becoming familiar with
vice.

IV. After a criticism by the class and remarks by the teacher, the .
student should make the required corrections, and submit them for ap·
proval. He should then copy his exercise in a book provided for the·
purpose, a comparison of the different parts of which will at any time ,
show what progress he has made.
·

3. The fact that every tongu~ may be regarded as an index to the ·
peculiarities of the people speaking it, and that this is the case
with the English language.

V. In correcting, the student will save time and trouble by availing
himself of some of the marks used in the correction of proof, and ex· '
hibited on a specimen sheet at the close of this volume.

LESSON LXX.-EnRCISE IN AMPLIFICATI~N• . :

Prepare an Essay on ANGER from the analysisin Lesson

:'L XVII.
EXERCISE IN AMPUFIC.A.TION.

I. Amplify, according to the example in
more successive sentences, each of the following simple
11'
propositions : -

LESSON LXXL-EnnomE IN AMFLIFICATION.

an Essay on

EDUCATION

from the analysis already

1. Alfred the Great died.

2.
3.
4.
5.

Richard Crom de Liou engaged in one of the Crusades.
A storm wrecked the Spanish Armada.
Cornwallis surrendered at Yorktown.
Can we doubt the immortality of the sonl 1

II. According to the example in § 406, construct an
.
tion assertmg,

LXXIL-EnRCISE ON PLAIN AND FIGURA.IDE LANGUAGE.

t Compose two sentences fbr each of the following ·Words .

introd~no

.e

:

(Generally) that a knowledge of music is becoming rapidly~·
tended in this country; (Particularly) that singing and ins'tiii,
mental music are studied in different sections and by all grad!ll
of society; and (Individually) that almost every household ._cOJli'
tains some performer. These propositions must be amplified~ i-.
constitute not less than three distinct sentences.

III. Vi,. rite, on the same plan, an introduction laying ..~owa
the proposition that dissimulation is one of the
nent faults of the present generation.
IV. According to the example in § 407, write
stating,

pr~

oil~ of which shall contain it in its literal · the other,.in it~
gurative, signification:-

'

·

:i.: ·~ ' f.
EXAMPLES.-W&mrr. [Literal. ] On wei(Jltin(J the goods he had purchased that
l~g at t~e market, he found they were deficient by at least two pounds. ·
[Fiunrative. ] After well 1oei(Jhin(J the matter in his mind, he determined u on
nlng the plan be bad first intended.
p

[Literal.] Amollg the fruits we met ,with Jn this country, was a sort of bit-apple, very disagreeable to the taste.
·

·, ITrER.

{fi guratitie.] He is now no longer the gay, thoughtless creature offormer years·
. fa;ce Is furrowed, bis look haggard and anxious, and his heart a prey to th bitte ~
~~
e
r

. est--stand-watch-cover-mask-idle-deep.-.:.sleep~
qument-constellation-refulgent-overwhelm'"'."'"·s~pulchre
r~sponse-burn-d iscover-o bservation-entertain-,-carn'a.
. ~ · iU umina te-eradicate~tormen t-,.labyrin th.....,..,.emana te......,,.
ble,
'
I§

~--~--

339

lllISCELLANEOUS EXERCISES.
MISCELLANEOUS EXERCISES.

338

,"'·source
7· F rm•ts - results.
.
.Blow· a.fftiction.
8
·
10 R d
· Curb- restraint. 9
)• l
.
.
o - tyra
1
.
.
"~ea · 12. Pamt _ d 'b
nny.
1. V e1l - co
'x1Drmk
· - absorb. 15. ""'
n·
Seal '· · 13 . BIush - become red. 14
Ylfully 17 S
- close. 16. Dance
.
·r .
:
.
teal- move silentl
- move grace'f:Y disapprobation of. 19 Fl y. : 18. Frown upon - testi~ unworthy portion.
.
y - move swiftly. . 20. Scum

LESSON LXXIII.-EXERClSE JN Ext.ENDED S1MILE.

Trace, at length, the points of resemblance between
iven subJ"ects that follow, carrying out the comparison as in'l
'

I

g
the Example : -

·

EXA.MPLE.-0LD AGE, S1mset. Old nge b:is boon callou tho snnsot of life; it Is
tben that the minc1, froo from the agitation nnd tumult of th<l pnssions, is calm and
tranquil, like tho slill serenity of tho evening, whon tho busy sou ml of lnbor Is
nnd the glare of tho mr.riuinn sun bns -pnssed awny. The soul of tho just mnn, conscious
of. bis own Integrity, like the glorious orb enveloped In thoso m ellow tints which are
then reflected from it in n thousand hues, sinks into n pencr.flll slumber, ngain to rise in
brighter splendor, and renew in another world tho course destined for it by the Al·

hushc~.

mighty Rnlor of tho uni verso.

cf,
~;

1. Youth-morning. 2. Life-an ocean. 3. Joy and
sorrow-light and shade. 4. }[1wwledge-• hill. 5.
·
a mother. 6. Uncultivated genius-•• unpolished
7. Neglected taknt-• flower in the desert. 8. DeaJ.h J·
1
child-blighting of• blossom. 9. Charity diffusing its bids.
ings -the sun imparting light and heat. 10. J-Ionor appea~·
ing.through a niean habit-the sun breaking through .clouds.

Eart~
diamon~·
~J

Example in the last Lesson:-

MELANCHOLY.

IGNORANCE.
CALUMNY-

"·

i,

o

PEACE.

• ..

~~ssessmg reason

mammdat~
objects as endowed w1.th i·~s
socon is
·ll
11e
.1t.h the same end i
.
:n
a . egory . proper wh. h
"t
n view, persomfies th b
'
and .

.

presents the lower animals

and_intelligence .' the
'

,. .

r

1

~. ate the latter model in all

1:. I. Thurn and

FAU!En

OOD.

lC '

.
. e a stract qualities.
egones representing,
.

SIN·

-

..-~!'"... ,
'
' "•

..,fi; .
(

. Compose sentences containing the following words .... •
IDetaphorically, in the sense of the words placed •fter
italics:-

\Ii~
: ',..
·

o~~.~

· EXAMPLE.-PATB, Career. Notwithstanding all th.o t emptations beld
he resolutely pursued the path of integrity, untouch ed alike by the follies and

1. Crown- glory. 2. Dregs~ vice.
inf!· 4. Yoko - poiver. 5. Abyss - iruin'.

MoDESTY
...

THE COMPLAINING

~rep

'

PLEASURE,

·

on the

•

'11 A
of wntor fell out of n cloud In
DROP.
.
> ens1ty of fluid matter, broke ou .
to tho sen; and, flndlng'i!.'lelf lo
.
crenture nm I In th.
t
tho following reflection ·-•Al st in such an
rn to the universe, I nm is prodigious ocean. of waters I
as I what an intbe works of God' It
1 reduced to a kind of nothing
d y existence .is of no

l_~erable

i~to

M

ti\!& drop, chanced .to ga;~ a;g~en~~ that

WAR.

LESSON LXXV •.:_EXERClSE IN MEtAPHOfilOAL LANGUAGE.

tlousnoss of a corrupt court.

I

examp1es of Alle or
...
·~i e presented
be1ow. Theg one
y, is
extracted
an a 1 from Th~
· 'spectator,
r.?r:~conv_ey a great moral truth, re . po .ogue, o~ fa~I.e, which,

Ill
IV

Select natural objects to which the following absttao\
qualities may be compared, and carry out the simile as in the

PROSP ERITY.

.
EGORY. ,

and I DLENESS
and A SSURANC:E.·
. by
· J.•fon
a voyage r, a dd ressed on the one hand by
Other
V~ruE.
'

AMBITION.

LESSON LXXVI.-EXERCISE ' IN· ALL
··

11 · II• DlLIGENCE

LESSON LL"CIV.-EXERCISE IN EXTENDED SIMIL'E.

ADVERSITY.

Two

an oyster, wbi~h~ayai~ ~~ss than the least
bnrden~va ?w It up In the midst of thls its·b: ~~lgbborhood
until by degrees It w m ~ solllo~uy.
1:~g~edoI~ tho.shell,
a diver, after a long series of a~ r pened mto
on the top of the Persian dlade;~,n~u~~e, is at

drop lay a great while
I; which, falling into the ha
ot that famous pearl which

llllf".:, " .

• 11!,''' .
• 1•J ... (From

.

The~·

THE PALACE OF VA

an Alle(JONJ entitled"

At last we approached ab

.

.

'

;

,

.
.
.,
aradi8e of Fools.~)

,~·WM "''"'~•II•. whlU•h<Oho wl'? ::" """"' '"'"''" "' "'"'".,,Th•

·
.
ower, at the cnt
were thick woven, nnd th e pince where I ranee of which Error was seated.

th a nearer r esemblance t
, nc b e hnd put on that b
.. . m a
the beauties of nature to th o Truth ; and as she has a light wh e might 11ppear
cal wancl that he m.
e eyes of her adorers, so he had
ereby she lf1ani·
_This be imed solen ight do something In imitation of I provided hlmself;with
enchantment t
inly, nnd, muttering to himscll; biu tbt., and plenso 1Vith'. deluo appear before ns. Imm etl iatel w
e gl<_>rle!I
Y e onst our eves
, "'.Jii~h
on thhe,
a t kept
part

• 11'

340

MISCELLANEOUS EXEilCISES.

of the sky to which he pointed, n!HI ohscrve;l n thin Line pro>pect; whi ch clenred as,
mountains inn smnmer morning when the mist goes off, nnd tho palnce of Vnnity_ap·
pcnred to sight. * * * *
"At the gate, the travellers neither m et with . a porter, nor waited till one should
appenr; every 011e thought bis merits a st11licient pas>port, ancl _prc&'ed forward. · ~·In
the hall we met with several phantoms, that roved among~ t us nnd ranged the company
according to th eir se ntiments. Th ere wn~ decreasing Honor, that had notl1ing to sholf
but nn old coat of his ancestor's achievements. There was Ostentation, that made him·
self his own constant subject; nn<l Gallantry, strutting upon his tiptoes. At the upper ·.
end of the hall stood a throne, whoso canopy glittered with all the rich es that gayety '
could contrive to lav ish on it; and between the gilded arms sat Vanity, decked in _the
p eacock's feather~, and acknowlctlge<l fur anoth er Venns by her votnrics. The boy who"
stood beside her fur n Cupid, and who mntlo tho world to bow before her, was called
Self-Conceit. His eyes hncl every now and then a cast inwards, to the neglect of Ill,
obj ects about him; and th e arms which he mnde use of for conquest, were borrowed from
those against whom he had n design. The arrow which he shot at the soldier Wll
fledged from his own plume of fenthers; the dart he directed against the man of wtt,'
wns winged from the quills ho writ with; nnd that which ho sent against those 'I(~presumed upon their riche~, was hPntled with gold out of th eir treasuries. He made
nets for statesmen from th eir own contri vnnces; he took fire from the eyes of the JadJi.
with which ho melted their hearts ; and lightning from tho tongues of th e .eloquent, to
inflame th em with their own glories. At th e foot of the throne sat three false Gr8*j
Flattery with a shell of paint, Affectation with a mirror to practise at, nncl Fashion e~
changing the posture of her clothes. 'fheso applied themselves to secure the conqueill
which Self-Conceit had gotten, and had each of them their particular poli!HI.
Flattery gave new colors and complexions to all things; .Affectation, n ew airs and .P,
pearnnces, which, as she said, were not vulgar; and Fashion both concealed some'ho
defects, and added some foreign external beauties."

MlSCELLANEOUS EXERCISES.

LESsON LXXVIII.-ExEROISEs

IN

HYPERBOLE.

Represent the following subjects by Hyperbole.
ExAMPLE.--An impressive speech. His speech was so deeply interesting'
impressive, that the very walls listened to his arguments, and were moved bY,-'
eloquence.
··

I

'

t' '

1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.

7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.

The brightness of a lighted room.
The splendor of a dress ornamented with jewels.
The number of persons in a crowd.
The quantity of rain which has fallen in a shower.
The thirst of an individual (by the quantity of liquid he eons
The size of a country (by the risiug and setting of the sun}:·
The affliction caused by the death of a distinguished individ
The depth of a precipice.
·
The waves of the ocean in a storm.
The heat of a summer day.
The refreshing effects of a shower.
The excitement of city life.
The darkness of night.
The selfishness of a miser.
V egetation in the torrid zone,

vISION

AND .APosrnOPBE.

I. Employ Vision m brief descriptions of the following
I. A Battle-scene.
II., A Storm at Sea.
.
,,

III. An Earthquake.
IV. A '.l'hunder·storm.

II. Alter the following passages, so timt _t Imy _may
. contain
of Apostrophe : -

~xamp l es

, >.;;., l. I cannot but Imagine that the 'virtuous he
..,,.
.
,age and country, are bending from tu . 1
roes, legislators, and patriots of every
were Incapable, till it"be brought to a ~:v:1:~~~e~ seats to witness this ~ontest, as if they
wt tli ese illustrious immortals en'
th
sane, of enjoying their eternal repose.
'eeiided; and thousaJHls, inflamed wt~: the~: :ei~ose I Their mantle fell when they asare ready to swear by Him that sitteth u on ~l.i t, and impatient to tread in·their ?teps, '
that they will protect Freedom in her l ~ . I e throne and liveth for ever and ever,
' ey sustained by their labors and
as t a~y um, and never desert . that ,'cause,' which
1'· 2. Tbuspnssestheworlda'wa c;~~: e with their blood: ,,,;. 'ilr.~ ... 1, ") ·)~~ .' ;
a,tlon passeth. and another gcnern~;on com:tt~?.u::ll ranks an~ conditions, "ono gener.~d replenished by troops of succeed.
·1 ' . d this great mn is by turns evacuated .
lfe is fleeting and transient. When m~ll ptl1 gr1ms. The world Is vain and inconstant.
w1
1e sons of men lea t th'
h ?
~~g t
When will they learn huma 't f
.
rn
mk of It as they
~eration and wisdom from the senaen~lth r~~1 thef afllictlons of their brethren; or
• •
ou own ugitlve state?
. .

°

I.

l
11·

LESSON LXXVIL-EXERCISE

IN

341:

LESSON LUIX.-ExERcISE IN PERSONIFICATION.

'·~ I. !ntroduce into sentences 'the following

lustratlve of P ersom'fi cation : -

expr.essions il' 2:.i i•t . , . ! ' ' .

_Sleep embraces-Nature speaks-The
.
. .
ds-Th
.
.
evenmg ·IIlVItes-The moon
li
b
e mormng smiles-The
.. h
sun c m s-Care kee s . w t h •.
I~ t spreads-Vengeance bares his arm-Ti h t
p
a c oughed B •t ·
me as amed-Years had
,,
ri am saw-Death prepared h'
d t-M
edom shrieked-Rapine prowls M d
lkar
emory wept- _.
:Wisdom strays-Hope fl d L ur er 8 a s-The vessel cleaves .
•'
'
e - ove watches.
. .·

r:

! '-{;

.

~ rr. ·write sentences containing the 11~oll . .
b.Ified : owmg subjects per·

E:U.MPLE.-Oontentment. If Contentmon
" '. -: ,·
"companion of Hoiic '"ould whispe I
t, tlrn parent of Felicity and the ·ralth'
r 1er consolations i
wreck us on inh osp itable shores.
n our ears, in nln might Foz:-

. ETERNITY.
CHARITY.

IBLENESS.

. ri• ThE GRAVE.

FAITH.

. ,FOLLY.

DISEASE.

PEACE.

MmTB.

LIGHT. '

!

342

l\IISCELLANEOUS EXERCISES. -

MISCELLANEOUS EXERCISES.

LESSON

LXX.X.-EXERCISES IN CLThL\X AND ANTITHESIS.

I. In each of the following passages, arrange the parts so .
as to form a Climax : ExAMPLR.-Imprope1·ly arranoed. What n piece of work is man I in action how
like nn angel I how noble in reason I in apprehension how like a god I how infinite In
faculties I in form nnd motion how expressive and adrnlrnble I
_1frran17 ed in the form of a Olimaro. What 11 piece of work is man I how noble ,
In rcnson I how infinite In foculties I in form and motion how expressive nnd adml•
rable I in nction how like nn nngcl I in apprehension how like n god!

1. Nothing can be more worthy of us than to co~tribt~t~ to the hap-,
piness of those who have been once useful and are still w1llrng to be so;
to be a staff to thefr declining days; to make the winter of old age wear
the aspect of spring; to prevent them from feeling the want .of su~h
pleasures as they are able to enjoy ; and to smooth the furrows m their
faded cheeks.
2. The hi story of every succeeding generation is thi s. N cw object.8
attract the attention; new intrigues engage the passions of. man; D!l.
actors come forth on the stage of the world; a new world, m short; lil
the course of a few years, has gradually and insensibly risen around us;
new ministers fill the temples of r eligton ; new members, the sea~ oP
justice.
.•
3. It is pleasant to. co~nmand our appetites and pn.ssion~, :ind to keeP._
them in due order, w1thm the bounds of reason and rcl1gwn, because
that is empire; it is pleasant to mortify and subdue our lusts, beca~e
that is victory; it is pleasant to be virtuous and good, because that111
to excel many others; it is pleasant to grow better, because that is to
excel ourselves.

II. Represent the following subjects in
me:mbering the principle stated in§ 374 : ExAMPLE.-A lVise Man and a Fool. A wise mun endeavors to shine in himself;
n fool, to outshine others. Tho former is humbled by tho sense of his own infirmltlei
the latter is lifted up by the discovery of those which ho observes in others. The ~·
man consiuers what he wants; th e fool, what be abounds in. 'fhe wise man Is hap.
when he gains his own approbation; and the fool, when he recommends him~lt
the applause of those about him.
" ..J~

Summer and Winter.
Modesty and Prudery.
Gratitude and Ingratitude.
Morality and Heligion.
Knowledge and Ignorance.
Geography and History.

LESSON

Pride and Humility.
Moderation and Intemperanc~ T·
Peace and 'Var.
· '•-'!,
Discretion and Cunning.
', 1!1 '
Cheerfuln r~-< a nd Melancholy.
Spring and Autumn.
---~·

LXXXI.-PARALLELfl.

A Parallel is a comparison showing the points of ·

,

...

. tude and difference between two persons, character,s, or objects
that resemble each other either in appearance or in reality.
e In this variety of composition, individual peculiarities are
. often contrasted by means of Antitheses with fine effect. From
~'. Dr. Johnson's Life of Pope, we extract the following fine
specimen of the Parallel : · . - :r; ·
.
DRYDEN AND l'OPE.

"In ncquircd knowleclge, the superiority must be allowed tO Dryden, 'whose educa,, tlon was more scholastic, nnd who, before he became an 11uthor, had . been allowed more
. ,' time for study, with better means of information. His mind bas a larger range, and he
; . collects his iinngcs and illustrations from a more extensive circumference of science.
11 Dryden kn ew more of man in his general nature, and Pope in his local manners. The
.;_, notions of Dryden were formed by_comprehensive speculation, and those of Pope by
: minute attention. '!'here is more dignity in the knowledge of Dryden, and ·m ore cer, tainty in that of Pope. Poetry was not the sole praise of either, for both excelled like·
,; wise in prose ; but Pope did not borrow his prose from his predecessor. The 'style of
v: Dryden is capricious and varied; that of Pope is cantious and uniform. · Dryden obeys
s;;. the motions of his own mind; Pope constrains bis mind to his owµ rules of composition.
~ Dryden Is sometimes vehemen t and rapid; Pope is alw11ys smooth, uniform, and gen!·· tle. Dryd en's page is a nntural fielcl, rising into inequalities, and diversified by the varied exubernnce of abundant vogetntion; Pope's is a velvet lawn, shaven by the scythe,
q sncl levelled by tho roller.
"Of genlns,-thnt power which constitutes n poet; that quality without which jndg; ment Is cold, and knowledge Is Inert; that energy which collects, combines, amplifies,
( and animates ;-the superiority mnst, witli some hesit.ition, be allowed to Dryden. It
ls not to be inferred, tbat of this poetical vigor Pope had only a little, because Dryden
bad more; for every other writer, since Milton, must give pince to Pope: and even or
Dryden it must be said, that if he has brighter paragraphs, be has not better poems.
lDryden's pcrformnnces were always hasty, either excited by some external occaBion, or
extorted by domestic necessity; ho composed without consideration, and _publlshed
• without correction. What his mind could supply at call, or gather in one excursion, was
'all that he sought, and all thnt he gave. The dilatory caution of Pope enabled -him to
; ~ oondense his sentiments, to multiply his images, and to accnmulate all that study might
' produce, or chance might supply. If the flights of Dryden, therefore, are higher, Pope
continues longer on tbe wing. If of Dryden's fire the blaze is brighter, of Pope's the
bent is more regular and constant. Dryden often surpasses expectlltlon, and Pope.never
tails below it. Dryden Is read with frequent astonishment,- and Pope with perpetual
delight."
·
· ·

Draw Parallels, in the style of- the example just given,
between,
1. Napol eon and Washington.
2. Lafayette and Howard.

LESSON

LXXXII.-ExERCISE IN

·w. Draw Parallels between,

P.AB.ALLEIA

'.)

'

,. - -

. ., - - -

...;::;

344

MISCELLANEOUS EXERCISES.

MISCELLANEOUS EXERCISES.

1. Queen Elizabeth and Queen Victoria.
2. The United States and England.

LESSON LXXXIII.-EXEROISE

IN

PARALLELS.

Draw Parallels between,
1.
2.
3.
4.

The Torrid and the Ternpcmte Zone.
The European and the Oriental.
.
The Eloquence of the Bar and that of the Pulpit.
A Plain and a Florid Style.

LESSON LXXXIV.-EXERCISE IN DEFINING SYNONYMES.

Invention, Discovery.
Genius, Talent.
Pride, Vanity.
Handsome, Pretty.

substance is given in an amplified form and in a style which
.is regarded as more intelligible.
.Maxims, Aphorisms, Proverbs, and Saws, are often paraphrased. A .Maxim is a proposition briefly expressed which
t~aches a moral ~ruth an_d is susceptible of practical ~pplica.
. ..J10n. An_Apho:1sm (which corresponds with the Apophthegm
. o_f .the ancients) is a speculative rather than a practical proposition, embodying a doctrine or the principles of science. · A
I>rovci:b. or Saying (the Adage of the ancients) is a terse.
propos1t10~ current among all classes, relating to matters of
;worldly wisdom as wel_l as moral truth. A Saw is a vulgar
proverb. The followrng examples will show the difference
between them .
. ; ,'.i

a

. j

Analogous to the drawing of Parallels is the defining of y '
the shades of difference between synonymous terms, models• ?~ of which will be found on pp. 280, 281. In a similar man- ·
ner, show the distinction between the following
and illustrate their use in different sentences:1.
2.
3.
4.

345

· :;,: ; .Llfaxin~.-Forgi:v~nes~ is ~he noblest revenge.
· ' .Aphonsm.-Or1gmahty m Art is the individualizing of the uni'versaL
,
· Proverb.-A 'Yord to the wise is sufficient.
, Saw.-A nod Is as good as a wink to a blind horse.

Paraphrase the following .Maxims, Proverbs, &c. : be(fets want.
· &'. Pa1·0,phras~.-Tha desl~es of.m~n increase with his ncqu.isitions. Every step that
lie advances, brings som cthlU"'
" w1thm bis view, which he dt'd no t see b eIiore, and which
aa soon as he sees It., h~ begins to want. Wh en necessity ends, curiosity begins; and
. no soon ~ r are ~Ye ~upphed_ with every thing that nature can demand, than we. sit down
lo ~ontnve artiflr.rnl appetites.
ExAMrLE.- Wealth

6. Wit, Hurno·r.

6. Poison, Venom.
7. Peaceful, Peaceable.
8. Continuation, Continuance.

. . .·

,,; 1. Either neve1· attempt, or persevere to the end.

LESSON LXXXV.-EXEROISE IN DEFINING SYNONYMES.

Show the difference between the following
terms:-

synonymol?-~ ·

1. Associate, Companion. 2. Idle, Lazy, Indolent. 3. Great, Large,
Big. 4. Sick, Sickly, Diseased. 6. Contemptible, Despicable, Pitiful..
6. Right, Claim, Privilege. 7. Disregard, Slight, Neglect. 8. Aneo·
dote, Tale, Story, Novel, Romance.

LESSON LXXXVl.-ExERCISE

IN

2.
1 i;rl 3.
! 4.
· t 5.
,1, : 6.
t ,ah

'

7.

i',8.
9.
• 10.
" 11.
' · 12.

Poor and content is rich, and rich enough.
Good ~ews doeth good like medicine.
No parns, no gains. ·
Fear is the mark of a mean spirit.
One swallow does not make a summer
Nothing venture, nothing have.
.
Between two stools one comes to the ground.
One good tum deserves another.
Money makes the mare go.
It never rains but it pours.
Penny wise, pound foolish.

''

PARAPllRASING.

A Paraphrase is tl1e amplified explanation of a passage in\
clearer terms than those employed by its author. Para-.
phrases frequently occur in versions from foreign languages.;
when, instead of a literal translation of the original text,"th

LESSON LXXXVII.-EXERCISE

IN

PARAPHRASING.

" P~raphrase the following passages:1.~ Make no man your idol, for the best man must have faults; and his faults wlll in·
lbly become your~, In addition to your own.

15*

--

346

MISCELLANEOUS EXERCISES
MISCELLANEOUS EXERCISES. · ·

2. H e that argues for victory ls but a gambler In words, seeking to enrich hhnselt
by another's loss.
3. Distress and difficulty are kno1vn to operate In private life ns the spurs of dlll·
gen cc.
.
4. The love of gain never made a painter; but it has marred mnny.
_
5. Complaints and murmurs are often loudest nnd most frequent nmong those who
possess all the external menns of temporal enjoyment.
.
6. The want of employment is one of the most frequent causes of vice.
7. A wound from n tongue is worse thnn n wound from the sword: for the lntler
affects only tho body; the former, the soul.
.
·'l
8. Trust him little who praises _all; him less, who censures all; nod b1m lenst, wh?
Is indifferent about nll.
9. He that find~ truth, without loving h er, is like a bnt; which, though It hath
eyes to discern that th ere i~ a sun, yet hath so evil eyes, that it cnn not delight I~
the sun.
.•
10. They who have ne ver known prosperity, can h:mlly bo sni<l to be ~rn~nppyj
it is from the remembrance of joys wo have lost, thnt the arrows of aill1ct10n are .
pointed.
11. E very mnn has just as mucb vanity as ho wants understandin g.
12. The strongest passions allow us some rest, but Ynnity keeps us in perpetual
motion. " ·whnt a dust do I rnise I" says the fly upon n conch-wheel. "At wh&t
n rnte do I drive I" s:iys the Oy upon the horse's back.

' endeavoring to make another by robbing down the bar. The words acted like magic
on the young philosoph er. "Shall an old woman," he said to himself, "have more reso·
lotion and perseverance than I, within whose reach are the highest honors of the em.
pire? " Inspired with new vigor, he returned to his books; his good resolutions were
_k ept; and history still names him as among the wisest of philosophers.

LESSON LXXXIX.-EnRCIBE

IN

ABRIDGING.

Abridge, and present in your own words,~ the matter con. "tained in Lesson XXXIX. of this voluine, on '~ The · Sub~ ·:. 1.r'«.
, lime".

.·.~·

LESSON XC.-EXERCISE IN ABRIDGING. ''."!' f

Abridge, and present in your own words the '.matte~· ··con-

r t.
.
,,,
ame d'm L esson LXVI., on Criticism.
' ·· · ?- ·i,,''.. ·
' I

IN

ABRIDGING.

if

r
! I.

I
I

I

f 'I

'I

IN

r,

i

f'

; _'-

'•

CRITICISM. . ' • . ! .

~
'.

I'"''

Abridging (sometimes called Epitomizing) is the opposit~
of Amplification, and consists in expressing the substance
a passage, article, or volu{ue, in fewer words.

l,

,,··

n. ::; t:
t
·; !•·;fii.t, ...--,., . •

LESSON XCI.-EXERCISE
LESSON LL"'CXVIII.-ExERCISE

<'! (" ;

Ex..1..,'1PLE.-Tradiliou says, that F oo-tsze, th e Chinese philosopher, was
youth of so impatient a temper, thnt h o could n ot endure the drndgery of learnlnr..
nnd determined to give up literary pursuits for some mnnunl employ ment. One daT
1
as he was returning home with a full determination to go to schoo l no longer, ho h&P'
pened to pass by n half-witted old woman, who was rnbblng a small bar of iron o~ I
whetston e. 'Wh en th e youug student asked her the reason of this strange employmea~
she replied, "Why, sir, I hnvo lost my knitting-needle, nod just thought I would 1'1111
down this bnr to rnnke me another." The words acted like magic on the young phlO
losopher, who returned to his books with tenfold diligence; and, whenever he folt lmpalient and despondent, would say to himself, "If a half-witted old woman has r
tion enongh to rub down a bar of iron into a needle, it would be disgraceful Iii
to have less perseverance, when the highest honors of the empire are before ru~'' Ht
li ved to siie th e justice of th ese reflections. His acquirements, in process of time,
his name a proverb, anrl procured for him tb ose very honors, which, but for this fort
incid ent, Il e would have thrown away, nod which without exertion none can hope
attain.
Abi·id(led.-Foo-tsze, th e Chinese philosopher, wns possessed of so little dlll~
in his youth th at be determined to abandon literary pursuits. Returning from ',
with the r esolution of at once seeki ng some manual employment, be observed a
witted old womnu rubbing n bar of iron on a wh etstone. Asking the reason ot.
strange proceeding, he learned from her that she hnd lost her knitting-needle ~~

'

· .... In the style of the Examples presented in Less.on LXVI.,
. write 8, criticism on the Allegory entitled " The Palace of
":fanity," quoted in Lesson LXXVI.
\'

.

LESSON XCII.-EXERCISE

IN

CRITICISM.

· . : · · r.

«;I<

· Questions on tlie Remarks in the . Preceding . ,Lessons.-Wh~t is an
apologue, or fable? What is an allegory proper 1 · What is a pariillel;
.~at figure is used with advantage in parallels r What 'is a paraJase r In what do paraphrases frequently occur I What are often
araphrased 1 What is a maxim? What is an aphorism f What was
~ailed by the ancients? ·what is a proverb 1 What is a saw r Give
, ples of each. What is meant by abridging r What othei: ~~me _is
etimes given to this process r

··_Write a criticism on Dr. Johrnwn's Parallel between Dry·
en and Pope, quoted in Lesson LXXXI.
·
·· ·

DESCRIPTION OF MATERIAL OBJECTS.

DESCRIPTION OF MATERIAL OBJECTS.

348

LESSON XCIII.
DESCRIPTION

OF MATERIAL

OBJECTS.

§ 412. Cornposition is the art of inventing ideas and ex·
d
pressing them by means of written language.
.
A composition is a written production on any subject, an
of any length or style.
.
·
§ 413. There are two great divisions under which all com,·i
ositions may be classed,.-Prose and Poetry.
p Those compositions are embraced under the he~d of Prose,:
in which a natural order and inode of expression are em;;
ployed, without reference to ~n exact arrangement of sylla·
.
bles or the recurrence of certam sounds.
h
compositions
as
are
characterized
Poetry em b races sue
b a departure from the natural order and mode of expres! ., or, by an exact arrangement of syllables or the recur·
s10n
, 1, •

rence of certain sounds.
. ·r,
§ 414. The parts of composition, whether Prose o_r _Poetry,
.
D
. t"
Narration Argument, Exposit10n, an~
are five; escrip wn,
'
. .
h .
Either of these may separately constitute t ..e
t
l
S Pecu a 10n.
· f
•~
.
bulk of a written
pro d uc t"10n,. or, they may all '.as is requen!!!'
,, .
1

ly the case, enter, in a greater or less degree, mto the same

of the object treated. If the latter is grand, the language in
which it is described should be elevated in proportion. If
beauty is the leading characteristic of the one, it should distinguish the other also; Whatever the nature of the object
described, the style, to be effective, should . be adapted to
it, according to the principle stated under the head of Har~ ' mony.
. Writers are most fre_quently called on to describe material
-: 'objects, natural scenery, and persons.

§ 416. In the description of material objects, such heads as
the following will generally be found appropriate j and, in
drawing up an analysis for any particular subject, a selection
'. ·may be made from them, and such new divisions . introduced
~s are suggested : -

f
-

WI t · mennt by a composition?
§ 412. What is c~~p~s1ll;:at dlv'i:1:~s under which nll compositions are cl .
§ 413. What are ie wo
ose? Which under Poetry?
'
Which are embraced under the hle~dhof ~r In a greate~ or less degree, Into dlJli
§ 414. E numerate the parts w u c en er,
" -

The place where, and the circumstances under which, the object
was seen ; the time when it was made, invented, or discovered;
the changes which time may have produced in it. '
_
Its history; traditions or r eminiscences connected with it.
The materials of which, and the persons by whom, it was made.
Its form, size, and general appearance.
.
Comparison of it with any similar object.
The feelings excited by beholding it.
The purpose for which it was designed.
The effects it has produced.

··1,..

~. II.

\ 'III.
• /;:IV.
· : V.
. VI.
:VII.

fu.r.
IJ '

· --, . § 417. As a specimen of this kind of description, we ex'ct from Forsyth's " Remarks on Antiquities, Arts, and
·e tters," a passage on
."

\::1

composition.
.
·
· d e1.m eating the characte
. . consists
§ 415. Description
m
. ,
istics of any object by means of words. It. ~orms an im~o
tant part of almost every variety of composition ; and a.1,1;~
the widest scope for ornament and beaut.y of _language.
.
style used in description should correspond with the char~~ '

349

~

THE COLISEUM•

· :A.:·colossal taste gn>e rise to tho Coliseum;

Hore, Indeed, glgantio dimensions
e "neccssary j for, t!Jough hundreds could enter nt once, and fifty thousand find
,the space was still Insufficient for Rome, and the crowd for the morning games
n at midnight. Vespasian and Titus, as if presaging their own deaths, hurried
·• building, anrl left several marks of their precipitancy behind. In the upper
' they have Inserted stones which had evidently been dres~ed for a different
''Pose. Some of the arcades are grossly unequal; no moulding preserves the same
• el and form round the whole ellipse, and every order Is full of license. ·
Happily for the Uolisenm, the shape 11ecessary to an amphitheatre bas given It a statY of construction sufficient to resist fires, and E>arthquakcs, and lightnings, and

..

.
.
t? Foi· what does it allow wide scope? · .
compositio ns.
§ 415. In what does descnpt!on cons1s

Mid of th e style to be used in description? 'Vbat are writers most frequently called
·~describ e?

$'416. In tlie description of material objects, what heads will generally b.e found ap• ,
nate?

..
DESCRIPTION OF · NATURAL SCENERY.

DESCRIPTION OF NATURAJ, SCENERY.

350

sieges. Its elliptical form was tlrn hoop wh!ch bound and h eld.It entire till ~l\rbar!ans - '
rent that consolidating ring; popes wid ened the breach; and tune, not unassisted, con·
tinues the work of dil:tpidation. At this mom ent, the h ermitage is threaten eel with a
dreadful crash; and a gcncrntion not v ery remote must b e content, I apprehend, with
tho picture of this stupendous monument.
. .
·when the whole amphitheatre wa8 entire, a child might comprehend Its design in 8
moment and go direct to his place without strayin g ln the porticoes ; for each arcade
bears 1ts'nnmbcr engraved, arn\ opposite to every fourth arcade was a staircase. 'fh!s
multiplicity of wide, straight, and separnt·e piissages, proves the attention which th~ an·
cients paid to the safo discharge of a crowd; it fin ely illustrates the precept of Vitro·
vins, and exposes the perplexity of some mod ern th eatres.
Every nation has undergone lts revolution of vices; and, !\S cruelty Is not the
present vice of oure, we cnn all humanely execrate the purpose of amphith eatres, now
that they lie in ruins. ?.foralists may tell us that th e truly brave are never cruel; but
this monument says, "No." H ere sat tho conquerors of tho world, coolly to-enjoy tho
tortures and death of men who had never offended them. Two aqueducts were scarcely sufficient to wash off th<J human blood which a few hours' sport shed in this imperial
shambles. Twice in one day came the senators and matrons of Rome to the butchery i
a virgin always gave tho signal for slaughter; ancl, when glutted with bloodshed, thoSo
ladies sat down in the wet and streaming arena to a luxurious supper I Such refle~

,

tions ch eck our regret for its ruin.
As it now stands, the Coliseum is a striking image of Rome itself; decayed, vacant,
serious, yet grnn<l; balf- grny and half-green; erect on one side and fall e~ on the other,
with consecrated ground in its bosom; inhnbiterl by a beadsman; vis1tecl by eveey
cnste · for moralists antiquaries, painters, architects, devotees, all meet hero to medl· .
'
,
1 .
t• "tl ft
tate, to examine, to draw, to measure, and to pray. "In contemp atrn.g an 1qm .es,
says Li vy, "th e mind itself becomes antique." It co ntracts from suc!J obJects n venera•
bl e rust, which I prefer to th e polish and the point of those wits who have lately pro-

,.
{

fan ed this august ruin with ridicule.

t

EXERCISE.

I

I

\'Trite a Criticism on the above extract.

---···. LESSON

XCIV.

DESCRIPTION OF NATURAL SCENERY, AND

§ 418. IN descriptions of natural scenery, a selection,: ' .
I

, I

generally be made from the following beads. The ordel'·
which they should be treated depends somewhat on the nal'tl"
. ,.f :
of the subject.
•
I

§ 418. In descriptions of nt\tural scenery, what heads will generally be

~~?

foun~ rp:
,

351 ·

L Circumstances under which it was seen· whether at sunrise, at
noon, or by moonlight. · ·
' ·
II. Natural feah~res of the scene; l~vel or undulating; fertile or barren; vegetation; trees, mountams, streams, &c., within view.
III. Improvements of art; whether well cultivated· buildings and
o~h~r productions of hu~an industry. ·
'
'
IV. Lr".rng cr~att~res t~at ammate the scene ; human beings.
v. N e1ghbormg mhab1tants; peculiarities; &<': · ;
.r VL Sounds; m~rmur of a stream; noise of a waterfall; rustling of
leave.s ; lowrng .of cattle; ?arking of d.o gs; .singing of birds; cries
of. duldren ; noi se of machmery, &c. · · '
·
·
Distant prospect..
Comparison with any other scene.
Historical associations.
X. Feelings awakened in the mind.
\
~ · § 419. For an example of this kind of description, the stu-

. ;dent is referred to the following extract from Sir ·Walter
!· Scott. He will find other specimens, of .a diff~rent . style; ·i~­
asmuch as they treat of indivi~~al curiosities ·of ·sc<::nery
. : rather than extended landscapes, in Willis's description of
~the Grotto of Adels burg, quoted in p. 90 of this volume, and
·, Campbell's Account of Fin gal's Cave in a Letter to the poet
1
Thomson, Lesson XCVI.
.
·
~-

A YORKSHlilE FOREST SCENE.

~"

The sun wns setling upon one of the rich grassy glades of this fore~t. Hundreds of
brond-headNl, short-stemmed, wide-branched, oaks, which had witnessed,· perhaps, the
etately march of the Roman soldiery, flung their gnarled arms over a thick carpet of the
· most delicious greensward. In somo places, they were intermingled with, beeches,
· hollies, and cnpsc\\·oocl of various clcscr!ptions, so closely as totally to intercept the level
beams of the sinking sun ; in others, they receded from each other, forming those long
_:.Weeping vistns, in the intricacy of which the eye delights to lose itself, while tmaginatlon conEiders th em as the paths to )-et wilder scenes of sylvan solitude. ., Here, the red
rays of the sun shot a broken and discolored light that partially hung · upon the shattered boughs and mossy trunks of the trees; nod there, they illuminated, in ,brilliant
'S>&tches, the portions of turf to which they made their way.
,
. •' A considerable open space in the midst of this glade seemed formerly to have .been
dedicated to the rites of Druidical superstition; for, oh the summit of a hillock so regular
aa to se~m artificial, there still _remained part of a circle of rough unhewn stones of large
11J~ens10ns. Seven stood upnght; the rest had been dislodged from their places, proba·
~y by the zeal of some convert to Christianity, and lay, some prostrate near their
" er site, and others on the side of the bill. One large stone only had found its way
\he bottom; and, in stopping the course of a small brook which glided smoothly
_nd the foot of the eminence, gave, by its opposition, a feeble voice.of murmur to the
id, and elsewhere s!lcnt, streamlet.
· ... ~ . r, · 1 , , •• \'.·;.«

.J~ § 420.

Descriptions of persons are often requir~d' i~--c~;m­
~ition.
In writing them, such heads as the following are
~enerally taken : ;

352

DESCRIPTION OF PERSONS.

I. Form; whether tall or short, fleshy or thin, &c.
II. Face, features, hair, expression, &c.
III. Manners; dignified, graceful, awkward, haughty, or affable.
IV. Dress.
V .. Any p eculiarity of appearance.
.
VI. Character, disposition, mental abilities, &c.

§ 421. Two graphic specimens of this kind of

description ~

are given below: one from Cooper, representing a well-drawn .
character in his "Last of the 1\iohicans" ; tho other, from the Y'
elegant pen of Bulwer.
'
DAVID GAMUT, TIIE SINGING-MASTER.

The person of this r crnnrknble lndivhlunl was to tho Inst degree ungainly, w ithout "
being in any particulnr manner deformed. He had nil the bones nnd j oints of other '
m en, with ou t nny of their proportions. Erect, his stature surpassed that of Id s fellows • '.
though, seated, he appeared reduced within th o ordinary limits of onr race. The same ·J
contrariety in his members seemed to ex ist throughou t the whole ~an . Hi s bead wa.5 1
large; his shoulders, narrow; his arn~~ long and dangling; while his hands were smal~
if not delicate. llis legs and thighs wllrn thin nearly to emaciation, but of extraordinary
length; _a nll his kn ees would have been considered tremendous, bad th ey n ot been out' •
done by the broader foundations on which this fal se superstructure of b lended human ·
orders Wll8 so profanely reared. The ill-assorted and injudicious attire of the lndivldnal •
only served to r ender his awkwardness m ore conspicnous. A sky -blue coat, with short'!l
and broad skirts nnd low cape, exposed a long thin neck, and longer nncl thinner legs,
to the worst nnim ndversions of th e evil-disposed. His neth er garment wns of yello1'
nnukeen, close.ly fitted to the shape, and tied at his bunches of kn ees by large knot.~ ot
white ribbon, n good deal sullied by u ~c. ClotHl ed cotton stockin gs, and shoes, on one of the
latter of which was a plated spnr, comple.ted the costume of the lower extre mity of this fig·
ure, no curve or angle of which was concealed, but, on th e other hand, stncliously exhibited,
th r ough the vanity or simplicity of its owner. From beneath th e flap of an enormoUJ
pocket of a soiled vest of embossed silk, heavily ornamnnted with tarnished silver lace, proj ected an instrum ent [a tunin g fork], which, from being seen in such mar tini company,
might ha,·e b een easily mistaken for some mischi evous and unknow n implement of ·
wnr. Sm all ns it was, this nncomm on engine had excite<! tho curiosity of most of the .
Europeans Jn the camp, thou gh sev eral of th e provincinl s w ere seen to handle It, not
only without fear, but with th e utmost familiarity. A largo civil cocked hat, like thOlt
worn by clergymen within the Inst thirty years, surmounted the whol e, furnishing dignity to a good-natured nncl somewhat vacant countenance, th at apparently needed ench
artificial aid to support the gravity of some high and extraordinary trust.
NINA DI RASELLI.

At once vain, y et bigh-minded,-resolute, yet lrnpnssionc<l,-there was 11 go~
magnificence in h er vory vanity and splendor, and ld eal!ty in her w11ywardness: '
defects made 11 part of her brilliancy; without them she would have seemed leas '
man, and, knowing her, you would have compared all women by her stan '
Softer qualities beside ;1er seemed not more charming, but more insipid. She had-'
vulgnr ambition, for she hall obstinately refa secl mnny nllianc<'8 which the daughter ,
Raselli could scarcely have hoped to form. The untutored minds and savage pow~
the Roman nobles seem ed to her im nginntion, which was full of the poetry of ranlt (111
luxury anrl its grnccs), as something barbarous and revolting, at once to be dreaded all

,.

NARR.A TION,

353

despised. She hnd, therefore pnssed h
t
without IO\'e. The faults th ' . I
er wenti!'th year unmarried, but not, perhaps
cmse ves of her char t
I
,
sbo had formed. She r equired
b .
nc er, e evated that ideal of lov e which
rally; sbe fe lt that wbere she 1:vomdo lemg i·ound whom all her vainer qualities could
e ds ie
be~ore wl11.ch to humble 50 st
. must. adore ·• she d eman d ed no common idol
Id
rong nn unpenous a mind u l'k
11lou • who des ire furn short per· d t
.
·
n 1 ·o women of a gentler
I loved she must cease to com
iol o exercise the caprices of sweet empire wh en she
mane, nnd pride at one b h
'
rare were the qualities that cot1Id tt
'
e, e um bled to devotion So
ti 111t ti
a rnct her so imperio 1 d'd h
·
1ose qunlitlcs shou ld b e ab
'
us
Y
I
er
haughtiness
require
1
vated its object like a gotl Accu~;e le~ ~wn, yet of the same order, that her love eleate I Ant! if it Wero her .lot to b o~et d o despise, she felt all the luxury it is to vener·
· ht b
e uni e to one thus Jo d b
m1g
eco rno clevnted by that it
d
vo , er nature was that which
F 1
b
gnze on.
,
'
or wr cnuty, render, shouldst thou ever o t
. the pi cture oflho Cummau Sibyl hi h
g o Rome, thou wilt see In the capitol
· .
, w c often copied no
WbY tin s 1s so called I know no~ •
'u
' copy can even faintly r epresent .
the dark be11uty of the eyes I b save! iat it hllS sornetbl ng strange and unearthly i;
R
.
eseec I th ee., mistaken 0 t tbi lb
om1111 galleries abound Jn sib ls. Th
.
s s yl for another, for tbe
Eastern cast; the robe and tu ~
e sibyl I speak of Is dark, and the face b88 an
but t
r nn, gorgeous though the b
.
•
Y e, grow dim before the ricb
rnnsparcnt roses of the cheek. th
1
which mellows lt to a hue and Ju t '
e iair would be black save for that golden glow
• t
s re never seen but · th s
mos rare_; the features, not Grecian
m e outh, and even in the South
and exqm,lte contour nil are h
' are yet fanltless; the mouth, the brow the ripe
"mething more; th e form is, pc~hman and voluptuous; the expression, the 'aspect, ls
. 1101'.'9 of sculpture, for tho dclicac;~; ~~h:~1;a~r tho Ide~! of lovelineS11, for the propormaJesty. Gaze Ion~ upon tl1"t . t
models' but the luxuriant fault h•• a
o
·• pie ure. it cl
t
=
gaze, you call back fivo centuries y .
rnrms, ye commands, the eye. While you
Ra.selli.
•
ou see before you the breathing image of Ni dl
M

t

EXERCISE.

Criticism on either of these extracts.

-

....

.___
I I'

, LESS 0 N X CV.
, NARRATION.-ARGUJIIENT
.
,,,
.-EXPOSITION.-SPECULATION.
·' )

.

,§ 422. Narration is the account of real

..
.
L'
or 1magmary 1 acts
,'~en;s. . ~ ne~t or ~n elegant style is most effective for this
. . o wntmg, m which too much ornament is out of lace
euts should be related in the order of th .
p
.
h
e1r occurrence, and
pc a way that tho interest of tlie reader may be: kept
.422. What' is nnrralion? Whnt sty le. is
':hat order shou ld events be related?
recommended for thls kind of Writing 1

-

••

354

ARGUMENT .-EXPOSITION.-SPECULATION.
LETTERS . .

355 -

§ 423. Argument is the statement .o f reasons for or against a·
proposition, made with the view of inducing belief in others.
Clearness and strength are essential to its success. Little, if
any, ornament is necessary; to this element of composition, ' a
neat, diffuse sty le is appropriate.
§ 424. Exposition consists in explaining the meaning of~~· •
·author, in definin g terms, setting forth an abstract subject in
its various relations, or presenting doctrines~ precepts, princi~
plcs, or rules, for the purpose of instructing others. A treatise
On grammar, for instance, CODSiStS principally of expositio~ I
Clearness being the chief object, and the nature of the subject · •·
in most cases almost entirely excluding ornament: this kin4;pt
matter should be presented in a neat, concise, style.
§ 425. · Speculation is the expression ·of theoretical views
not as yet verified by fact or practice. It enters largely intOworks on metaphysics, and is best und erstood through the
medium of a neat, simple, sty le.
§ 426. A specimen of narration follows:THE FIELD OF THE PIOUS.

II
~ :;
I'

In one of those tenible eruptions of Mount Etna which hav e often happened, t!Mi ..
clanger of the Inhabi tants of th e adjacent country was uncommonly great. To avol4
Imm ediate destruction from the flam es aml tho melted lava which rnn clown the aldd
of t he mountain, th e people were obliged. to relire to a consiuernlilo uislauce. Ami
th e hurry nnd confusion of such a scene, every one fl eein g and carrying away whate
be cleeme1l most precious. two brothers, in the height of their Rolicitnde for the p
vation of their wealth and goods, smhlenly rccoll ecteu that lhdr father aHu motlier, _
very old, were unab le to savo themselves by flight. .F ilial teuuerness triumphed
every other cousid ernlio n. ""Where;• cried. the generous youth~, "slrnll we :find B
precious treasure thnn they arc, who gave us being, and wh o have cherished and
t ected us through life?" llav ing said this, the one taking up his father on his slloul
nnd th e other his mother, they happily ma<l e their wny tlJrough the surrounding
nod flames. All who were witnesses of this dutiful and afTcctiunat.e cunuuct were
with tho highest admiration; and they and theil' posteri ty over after called th.lit
throu;;h which these young men made their retreat, "Tho Field of tbe Pious"· _ .• ,

·

rw

§ 423. What is argume nt? In what style is it best prese nted?
,1,.,
§ 424. In what does exposition consiFf? Of what, for in stance, does It to~
princi pal part? What is the chief object in exposition ? What style is app
to it ?
§ 425. What is speculation? Into what does it largely enter?
Is it b~st understood ?

EXERCISE.

I. Amplify the above s ·
f
.
.
entirely in your own 1
pec1men o narration, presenting it
anguage.
II. Amplify the following heads into
.
. a specunen of narration, in the style of the above mod I
.throughout.
e ' usm~ your own language
THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES.

,

Dionysius, tyrant of Sicil thou I
.
. ures, was far from being haplr. ['~h s~Jrrounded by rie~~s and pleas. Damocles, one day, complimented {im
.
.
.
Jhat 1.10 m~narch was ever greater or h
. o.n hh1s power, and affirmed
.
. D.1011ys1us asked l1im whether h appie1 t. an he.
e would hke to make trial of this
happrness, and see whether it w
as great as he imag·1 d
· On D 11 10 J '
!1 C es gladly consentinas th
,·
~e ·
·1 1
brought rn for him a splendid bg, e kmg ordered a gilded couch to be
pages to wait on him as if he we:~;,~e~ to be prepared, and the royal
. quet.]
eir monarch. (Describe the ban~ Damocles was intoxicated with leasur
. .
, 88 he lay luxuriou~ly pillowed
h~
e. But, chancmg to look up
swo r d suspen d cd 'from the ceilin
on isb royal. couch, h. e sa.w
· a g l'ietermg
. '
li~ad. . .
g, Y n srngle hair, exactly over his ·
; This sight put an end to his ·o
Tl ,
.
rushes ha.d lost their charm [D J Y:·b h .ie l a~e perfumes and inviting
~ping from the couch, h; beso:~~1~1 t~e ~i:eeirngrl in d ~tail.] Finally, .
.. former humble position. [Moral 1 . g ? a o.w h1;'ll to return to
dfe:v,from this act of his courtier 'th uch D10nysms, ~n his answer,
_i
"
, WI
Iespect to the happmess of kings.]

;v

I

..~ ;·

--·-·-----LESSON

xcvr.

-~·i,~27. ThereT are six leading <livisions of Prose Composion.1 Letters, N arrntives, Fie tiou, i,'ss,. . vs, T',
.c. ".;
uescs or Arrrut~tive Discourses, and Orations.
b
~.$28. !Jefinition.-A

LE'.l"l'ERS.

Letter is a written
communication
. ~subj ec t from one person to another.

DT.~ Enumemte the six Icndin"' d',.
' What is a letter?
.

.
f
ISlons o ~irose composition.
>I hat is letter-wrltmg commonly called?
'

b. I\

What Is snid

I

/!

l~

- .
LETTERS.

356

--

of courtesy.

Letter-writing is commonly called Epistolary Correspond·:·
ence. It is one of the most important branches of compo-·
sition, entering more largely than any other into the daily

In these ' 'a t en d ency to diffuseness
.
.· ·
·
.
h. , ausrng m young writers from
a fear that they may not 1
'd
iave enoug matter to fill th h
. avo1 ed.. "There is hardl Y any species
. of compo 'f e· s eet, must
.. be
. says K1rke White " e . th
.
s1 ion, in my op1mon,,
asier
an the ep1stol
" Th
·
'
'
,ease about the letter which render .
ary..
ere is an off-hand
·. time or difficulty· and b .
s i~s product10n a work of but little
.
'
• Y ieason of this very fa Tt f
.
writer is apt to ex1)ress hi
lf
1
c1 i yo composition, the
\ Ti
.
mse care essly and with t
.
ou proper thought.
. , me and labor should be bestowed
_pa.
nposition.
on this, as '."."ell as ~very other, de-

The form of the letter h as often b een used for essays, novels, histo·
ries, &c. ; that is, th ese proclnctions h ave been divided into p ar ts, each
of which commences with an address to some fri en<l. of the author or ·
imaginary persona ge, as if it had passed as an actual communication.
Such compositions, how ever, should be classed under the <l.ivisions to
which, according to th eir matter, they r espectively belong. The letter
proper is one intended for th e person to whom it is addressed.

§ 429. Varieties.-The principal kinds of letters are,

.

I. News Letters, or communications to papers or periodi·.
ca1s, containing accounts of what has happened or is happen-.
ing elsewhere than at the place of publication.
.:J

a

Sue,}; communications have lately become popula1', and n ow .form
feature of almost all leading newspapers. In these letter s, profundity ·
is not expected, unl ess they treat of political, religious, or other serious'
topics. They should rather b e characterized by brilliancy of thought; .
and an original, striking, mode of expression. Their effect may ofteli", be increased by strokes of humor, and what is commonly called piquaMl
cy, or a pleasing vein of sarcasm on persons and things in general.
and judgment are r equired for a proper selection of subjects. The space.
allowed, b eing generally limited , should b e fill ed to the best udvuntng8;'
Local matters shoul<l. be avoided: it ia well t.o iutro<l.uce no topics but

Tas.~

··~

l '

II. Letters of business. In these, brevity and clearne
are ~11-importaut. The writer should aim at the greatest deo
gree of conciseness consistent with perspicuity, and should
..
confine himself strictly to the business in hand.
III. Official letters, or such as pass between men in o~C!?f
respecting public affairs.
are al ways formal, ....

Th~se

~~d

of its importance? For what is the form of the Jeltcr often used? Row should _ .
compositions be clnssctl? What is the Jetter proper?
' :} •
§ 420. What arc the principal kinds of letters ? What nre news letters? Whit
said of tho popularity of news letters? What is not cxpcctml in them? By
should they be characterized? What often incrnases their effect ? What topics
be selected for such letters ? What are required in letters of busin ess? To what
they bo confined? What Is moant by official letters? Describe them? . In·

Their style should be firm

.......,.-==~~o!..!.!frG.i1endship. · ·

business of life.

those of general interest,.

357

LETTERS.

.

. Flippancy , lso
, .It, m
. ' sh ou ld b e carefully avoided.

!Jet'f\4-#1.m,-r;cw~- at is committed t

~

~

.
ust be rememinto forgetfulness . it i
odpaper d es not, like conversation pass
..:'ric. ·we ~hould therefore
' s preserve
and may at
f
'
neve. ' ·' t
,
any ime, be made pub. any thing which we would b
e, even to the most intimate friend
.., 'The co
f
e as amed that the world sho
. '
.
.
.
.
mmonest ault perhaps of I tt
!his cannot but be distas~eful to th
e ers of friend~hi ''is egotism
great his interest in the writer. Ae i;rson addressed, no ma er ow
correspondent some personal . t 11'
end, of course, expects from his
1al
·
m e 1gence but he I ks f.
h
! o.ng with it; and will inevitabl be t ,
. oo - or ot er matt.er
•who confines his letter to
y
s .ruck with the bad taste of one
.
an enumeration of his own e l ··th
· ~.f th'de fiI imited
circle to which I b I
.
xp o1u:i or ose
.
ie
e ongs. In hke m
h
vo1 ilhng a letter w1'tl1 det 'I
I t'
we s ould
· ·
m s re a rng to p f
·anner,
h
iOri addressed is unacquainted.
a_r ies wit . whom. ~-e per.

r;u

y·
,
"·•·
.<- .• I.Jetters of condolence, written to persons in t•
. sympathy
' with th . . . fia ic lOil
,or. the purpos e of expressmg
. ·
fa.these great ta t ·s
:. .
eir _mis ortunes .
• . t' d
. \l
necessary j for ill-Judged consolation
sea
the woun d ' opens it
. afresh . In th.
'
iWell as the two classes which follow th . •t . h
is, as
of his, come mumca
wn .er ts.ion.
ould
hil!lself to the leading subiect
J
· confine
. VI. Letters of congratulation, or those in which the writer
ir ·

·m·

,friendship, to what is there a tendency? What d
.
!e&rrespondence? To what is this facility f
..
oes Klrke White sny of epistolary
tearefully avoided? Why? W;iat sh:ul~omposltlon np_t to lead? What else· mnst
frien d ? W hnt is the com
we never write, even to the most ·tntl·
t of e.gotism on the person :a~;e::~:·~ult o_f letters· o'. frl~ndshlp? What is the
Id filling a Jetter? What are Jette
f ~1th what, m hke manner, should we
groat tact? To what should the~ n·~ercon
W!iy What
shouldarethey
bo written
con fiolence?
ne himself?
letters
of con-

..

,

.

f

358

. ?tis

-.....!_I

[

l!l!!!l!!

LET'l'ERS.
LETTERS.

359

professes his joy at the success or bappines~ of another, or at ~
some event deemed fortunate for both parties or for the com· !
munity at large. They should be brief, sincere, and to the ;
point.
.
· VIL Letters of introduction, in which the wnter
mends a friend to the kind offices of some third party.

· ' answering, it is proper always, at the outset, to acknowledge
· · the receipt of your correspondent's communication, ·in some
, such words, for instance, as the following : " Yours of the 15th
, . inst. came safely to hand yesterday; and I am glad to learn
; from it," &c. ; or, " Your welcome letter of the I 0th ult. was
., r~ceived in due course of mail, and wou}d .have been answered
" _ . sooner had it not been," &c.
.,_ _ , , , ..

It is customary to leave such letters unsealed, and. to put on
back besides the superscription, the name of the party mtroduced. In ·
givi;g letters of introduction, it is of primary importance to n~here r
strictly to the truth. It is false kindness to exaggerate th.e merits .O.~
the bearer, or to recommend in high terms a perso~ but partially kno~ ·
Such a course often places all parties concerned m an unpleasant po- ·
sition.
I ~

exception of_~
official communicatio~, which require a studied and formaJ·
elegance) should be simple, easy, a d natural. All a.ppea~.J
ance of effort far-fetehed ornaments, and attempts at d1spla
are fatal to tl1eir effect. Puerilities and affected simpli~\~~
on the other hand, are equally objectionable.

§ 430. Style.-The style of letters (with

t~ie

A good letter bears the same relation to other kinds of writing, , .
friendly conversation does to the more ,~ig~ified varieties of spoken ·~
guage. " I love talking letters dearly, said the poet eowper, .and , ~
majority of correspondents will agree w'ith him. 1f. letter of friendship
-~&1i_..-sl:ould be a mirror of the writer's mind, and nothin~ is so likely;.,tOt
ensure this as a conversatio)lal style. 'Ne should wn~e as we woulcl
speak were the friend we ad~resse~ suddenly to make. hIS appearanc~,
et Of course with more dehberatiou and care. If his stay were , to.~
y '
'
•
•
•~
b : f we would naturally touch only on the more mterestrng top1
ue'so, in a letter, where we are necessarily
· limited,
· ·
and
we sh ouId·.' ' •
,. " rn .
preference to those subjects that are most important.
I

§ 431. Answers.- Every letter, not insulting,

meri~'

prompt reply; and such a reply is called an Answerr ,·
grntnlation? What should be their character? What Is meant by l?tters of
d UC t.!Oll ? What is customary with re$pect to such letters? What, cautwn
Is glvea.I
,
d
p
§ 430. What styl e is most effective for letters? What exception 1s ma e ·~ .
must be avoided? To what is tbe relation which a good letter bears to other kin~
writing compared? What kind of letters did Cowper like? How should we. ":\ ,
a friend? What subjects should we select?
,., .f. IJt
§ 431. Whnt is m eant by an anBwer l'. What letters m orlt answers? In anew

~esides

this, it is customary for a person answering 0. business or
official letter to embody in his opening sentence a statement of what he
~nderstands it to contain; as in the following, whfoh also illustrates the
profuse use of form and titles in official communicatio~s : - .
.,

• '/D

r· ·'

-~ r

~111 : :

, .

t

! -

--

;

DEPARTMENT oF STATE,

·

. ,
Was!lin9ton, April 28, ,18~4~ .
; '. The undcrs1gi:ed, Secretary of State of the United States,' has !had
the honor to ~ece1ve the n.o~e of Mr. - , her Britannic 11Iajesty'a Envoy Ext.raordmary and M1~ister Plenipotentiary, of the 21st instant, ac. c~mpamed by the dec.la~at10n of her Majesty the Queen of the ·united
~ngdom of Great Britam and Ireland, m regard to the rule which will
. {OJ;:the .present l;>e .observed ~owards those Powers with which she is at
c,e, m the ex1strng wnr with Russia.
· ·
U,' ·;
,
~.
I
{ , f-~ ~ -~

. ~ :.§ 432. Manual Execution.-By complying with th~· fol~

, ~w,fng sug~estions, the student will ensure neatness in making
· prns of his letters and other compositions : · ,, "; i., .
· ·~ .

1

' J .

~

tDraw two light p encil lines parallel with the left edge ' of ,the!'page,
lhe•first about half an inch, the second an inch and a half 'distant frolli
., •yommence. you~· composition, and every successive ;aragraph,
~mner margrnal line; but let the body of your.: writfog rest' ·ori f the
tilter one. When you have completed a page,' erase the margin'a l lines
JI~ with india-rubber. When il. letter is not long enough to fill a
. e, It should not be commenced on the first line, but at such a dis- 1
ce from it as will leave an equal space above and belo~v. ·· · 'r

·on

~~. 4~3. Date.-The date of a letter, which should always
j{d1stinctly stated, must stand at the right of the first line.
.consists of the name of the place where it if$ written; the
: ~I

.

'

>

~ always pro~er at the .outset? Giv~ examples.

Besides this, what Is It customary
embody in the opening sentence?
an example.
· · · ·
1~ What suggestions are made, for the purpose of ensuring neatn~~·,t " .,,r' ;, 1 .· ' · r
488.• Describe the date of a letter. Where does it stand?
·
· T' · ' 11 1" " '

·~l'l!OU answer mg a busmess or offic1al letter to

.:.

':

; ,

.1

~ .....~

·.i.r.

•

-

,.
360

LETTERS.

LETTERS,

,36l

month, day of the month, and year; as, 1Jtlobile4 August
Haskins P.O., Tenn., }
26, 1854.
September 3, 1854.
Rev. James Norton, D. D.:
§ 434. Address.-Tbe address of a letter is found on the
Rev. and dear Sir
'
next line below the date, at the left side. It contains, in the
first line, the name and title of the party written to ; and, on
Steamer Washington
l
the second, the words, "Sir," "Dear Sir," "My dear Sir,"
Miss. River, Sept. 4th, •54. J
Stewart L. Roy, Esq. :
for a gentleman -or "Madam " "Dear Madam" " M v dear · •
De~r Sir,
'
'
'
'
Madam," for a married lady,-according to the degree of ,.
intimacy.
Boston, Aug. 20, '54.
Mesdames E. & J. Lacretelle .
An unmarried lady is best addressed in a single line:
Ladies,
·
" l\liss - - ; " " Dear Miss - - ;" or, " My dear Miss --.'1
In addressing a business firm, place on the first line its
N. 0., Aug. 26, 1854.
Miss R. A. Tompkins :
proper style and title; aud, on the second, the word" Gen·•
My dear Friend,
tlemen" or " Ladies,'' according to the sex of the parties com:
§ 435. Subscription B tI
b . .
.
posing it.
"
,~eant
that
clause
or
se~tenc~
at1:h:u
e~~1pwth101·
nhof
at l~tter .is
A relative is properly addressed by the name that ind~
terms of C!' t•
·
c con ams the
.
auec ion or respect and th
.
t
.
cates the relationship ; as, " 1\Iy dear Father " " My dear "
o
.
,
e s1gna ure. Different
~re appropriate, according to the relative position of
Grandson," " My dear Sister; " or, a relative of the same
. ' ~ writer and the person addressed. A few of th . .
age, or a friend, may be addressed by the Christian name,"if
, ,mmon are subJ"oined It w1·11 b
e most
intimacy will allow it; as, " My dear William," "My deal'
· ,
·
e seen at on ·
h
:~~f~ is appropriate. Observe the punctuation,c:s1~;o;e~ case
Julia."

-

":{.ms

Some prefer placing the first liue, containing the name and title!Of
the party addressed, at the bottom of the letter instead of the top,·· ·
above suggested.
' '
Examples of proper forms of date and address follow; the pupil
.1 ·
do well to observe their punctuation:173 Greenwich St., New-York,' ·
Sept. 1, 1854. :;:, ·
Messrs. Davis & Clapp:
Gentlemen,

Allow me to subscribe myself
Your obliged & obt. servt.,
Thomas Dean.
With my best wishes. for your. weuare
I
.
Y our smcere friend u: , remain
1
Reuben H. s. wells.

Hon. E. S. Norton,
Canal Com. of the State of N. Y. :
Sir,

•

§ 434. Where is the address of a letter found? D escribe it. How is an un
lady best addressed? D~scribe th e address of a business firm? How Is a

~~i:i::~ :~~~:ss;~r~y ~~~::~:: to~;:ar:~:1~la:~:~~;:sn:~t ;~~;:;~:~~n!rtllt ~
addre~s.

I remain, dear Sir
You; obedient servant,
Geo. H. Smith.

· •·" · •

.
Hoping to hear from you without delay I
Yours &c.,
' remam
S. Wellman Brown.
f'o what IIJnst tbe subscrip-

~

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363

LETTERS.

LETTERS.

362

r

With my best love to all, ~ am, ads evehrt
Your nffcctionatc nug er,
Helen.

No. 2.

l t our long continued kindness will ·
Rest assured, dear rondnm, t rn yd the gratitude and service of .
t ill ever comman
not be forgotten, b u w y
. ost respectfully & truly, .
oms m
Horace H. Hmman.
.
on have the wnrm and cnrncs~ sympathy ?f
·whatever ron,y bctide,/our faithful & affectionate cousm,
.
Jane.

LErrER OF lNTRODUOrION.

St. Louis, Jan. il, 1854.
My dear Sir,
Allow me to Introduce to you my friend, Cyrus Johnson, a distinguished teacher
· j of this placP., who visit; your city for th e purpose of making himself acquainted with
the syslem of instruction pursued in your common schools. He is one whose lifo thus
far hns bee11 devoted to the cause ot education, and whose efforts have already been
signally blessed to hundreds of our youth. Any aid, therefore, that you IDay be able
to render him In the prosecution of his inquiries, will be a service to onr whole community, as well as a personal favor to
Yours very truly,
Henry .F;' Quinn.
"
. Joseph B. Stacy, Esq.,
14 Fifth Avenue, N. Y.

No. 3 .
to avail himself of this opportunity
The undersigned hns the honor f tl United States the assurance~f
to renew to t.hc Secrc~nry o~ State o ie
his distinguished considerntion.
John F. Crampton.

. . i'· ··,

i'My dear Friend,
J

Thule's Wildest Shore, 15th day of the Harvest Storm; }
~~~

..

I have deferred answering your very welcome favor till I could Inform you of the
accomplishm ent of my long meditated tour through the Western !Ries. Though I have
·been disappointed In my expectations of seeing St. Kilda, yet I have no reason to be
Hon. W. L. Marcy, Secretary of State, &c.
· dlssatisfii>d with my short voyage, having visited the famous Btaffa and Icolmkill, so
uch admired by your countrymen. I had formed, as u sual, very sanguine Ideas of
·
of the different kin¥
• . e happine.<s I shoulc\ enjoy in beholding wonders so new to me. I was not in the
4". ., 6· We su bJ. oin four specimens
.
·
bya person '•o
· east disappointed. Th e grand regularity of Staffa, and the vene~ble ruins of Iona,
f 1 tt
The first is a busmess
letter, given
· fill ed me with emotions of pleasure to which I hall been hitherto a stranger. It was
o e ers.
·b·1·t to. .., friend to enable the latter to pro.·
not merely the gratification of curiosity; for these two islands are marked with a grand
known respons1 l t y
'"
'
f
p.
1· me It is commonly called a letter o ere i,t' epecics of beauty, besides th ei r no>e.l ty, and a remarkable differen ce from all tbii other
t
d
cure goo s on
·
· d ·
1 tt
· islands among the Hebrid es. In short, when I looked into the cave of Staffs, I regretThe second is a letter of introduction. Tho tlm is a e .er
•. ted nothing but that my friend was not th ere too.
of friendship, from Campbell to the poet
descrtp·
' ! Staffs, th e nearest to Mull, and th e most admirable of all the Hebrides, Is bnt a
' small island, but exceedingly fertile. From one point to another, It Is probably nn EngCave.
'£h
e
fourth
is
m
a
more
.
f
.
•t
to
li'ingal's
t1vo o a v1s1 ,
.
th
.Jlsl.. mile. The shore Is boisterous and rocky near th e sea; but nt the distance of twenty
..
1 b .
e of Moore's letters to lus mo er.
. . yards from its rugged base, it rises for thirty or forty feet Into a smooth, stony, plnin,
fam11tar sty e, emg on
.
th . ohara<>
gradually sloping to the bottom of the rocks, which rise perpendicularly to, n vMt
The student is particularly requested to notice
eir
· height, and form the walls of th l' Island. On the top of these are rich plains of grass
and com, In the centre of which stanUs a lonely hut, in appearance very like the abode
teristios.
of a hermit or snvage.
No. 1. LEITER OF CREDIT.
• · The walls of the island (for so I beg leave to denominate the rocks that form !ta
Coburg, Cannda W"est, }• .
Bides) nre truly wonderful. Th ey are divided into natural pillars, of a triangular shape.
September 15, 1804. · ~
Th ese pil Jars are not a random curiosity, broken and irregular. They nre ·as exactly
elmllnr and well proportioned, llS if the hand of an artist had carved them out on the
Gentlemen, .
.
dB
f this place, goods, silks, nncl merchandise, to &DJ: •
~ walls with a chi ~el. The ran ge of them Is so very long and steep that we cannot admit
P~ease deliver to R1cbar
crry, o dollars. and I will boltl myself accountablo. to
the Idea of their being wrought by human hands. ThHe is a wildness and sublimity
nmount not exceeding five tbousan~
,
Derry should foil to make paymeat
you for the payment of the same, m case r.
f·
In them beyond what art can produce; nnd we ar11 so struck with its regularity that we
· ean hardly allow Nature the merit. of such an artificial work. Certain It is, If Art actherefor.
t for which you may give him credit;
You will please to notify me of the amount, 1 t me know it immediately. : j·
complished such 11 curiosity, she has handled instruments more gigantic than any which
and if default should be made in the paymen e
are usecl at present; and if N atnre designed the pillars, she has bestowed more geometry
'
I am, gentlemen, your most obt. ~rvant,
.
on the rocks of Stalfa, thnn on any of her works so stupendous in size. The cave of
Btaffa is at l~ast three hundred feet long, lin ed with long stripes of pillars of the Bame
Messrs. I saac Smith & Co.,
klnil, and hung nt the tc•p with ston es of an oxnct figure of five sides. The height Is
No. 25 Broadway, N. Y.

·r

§

Thor~so~,

M

364

LETTERS.

LET'I'.ERS.

seventy feet, so that, being very wide, it appears li ko n very lnrge Gothic cathedral
I ts arch is gradually narrowed at tho top, and Its base, except tho footpath on one side,
is the sea which comes in. We entered the mouth of the cave with a peal of bagpipes, .
which made a most tremendous echo.
Icolmkill is vcnemblo for being the burial-pl ace of forty-ci1;ht Scotch, nnd eight
Danish kiugs, whose tombs we saw. Our voyage lasted three days. I slept the first
night at Icolmkill, the seconrl at Tiree, and the third again at Mull.
If I had room, I would scribble down an elegy, composed a few days aher m y arrival in Mull from Glasgow; bnt you seo I havo clntterecl nwny nil my paper upon Statfa.
I depend upon your good-nature to cxcuso my proli x description, and tho illegible
scrawling of your very sincere friend,
LE CAMILLE.
Mr. James Thomson, L oudon.

write this letter, for the dear old Isles of the Old World again; and I think it robable
that twelve months from· the time I left England, will very nearly see me on
ts
once more.
"'
"'
COBB
"'
Your own,
T. M.

it

EXERCISE.

Somewhat in the style of the above models, write a
and a LETTER OF INTR.ODUCTION.
.

••
LESSON

Aboard th e Boston,
}
Bandy Hook, thirty miles from New York,
Friday, May 11, 1804.

I
1.

L E T T E R S

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~- •

,'

* R ofc rcnco iR hero m111.lti lo 111'l yellow font, which, nt th o ti mo th is lctl or wns written, preYniled ha
New Yorlc, to n. grc n.ter or lees exte nt., every ycnr.
t

LETTER.

OF CREDIT,

No. 4.

My d11rling Mother,
I wrote to yon on my arrival at New York, wh ere I lrnvo been nearly a week, nnd
am now returned aboard th e frigate, which but waits a f1lir wind to sail for Norfolk,
Th e IIalifax packet is lying alongside of us, and I Rh all take th e opportunity of sending
this letter by her. At New York, I wns made happy by my fat her's letter of the 25th
J anuary, and dear Kate's of the 30th, which make four in nil that I hnvo received from
home. I had so very few opportunities at Bermuda, nnd they wero attended witi1.,~r
much uncertainty, that I fear you may have suffered many nn anxious moment, darling '
moth er, from t he interruption and delay of the few letters I could despatch to you.
But, plP.ase Heaven l we sliall soon have those barriers of distnn co removed; my own
tongue sh all tell you my "trnvel's history,'' and your heart shall go along with me over
every billow and stop of the wny. When I left Bermuda, I could not help regretting :
that the hopes which tQok me thither could not be eve n hnlf reali zed; for I should love
to live th ere, nnd yo11 wonl<l liko it too, <l car moth er: mHI I think if tho slt11nt.l on would
gil'c me but n fourth of whnt I was so dclu<lingly taug ht to ox pcc t, yo11 should nil have
come to me ; and, tbough set npnrt from th o rest of th e world, w e should have found
in that quiet spot, and under that sweet sky, quite enough to coui1tcrbalance what tho
r est of th e world could give us. But I am still to seek, and can only hopo that I may
find at Inst.
The environs of New Y ork aro pretty, from t11 e number of little, fan ciful, wooden
houses that are scnttered, to tho distance of six to eight mil es, round the city; but
wh en one reflects upon the cnnse of this, and that theso h ou~cs nre the retreat of tho
terrified, dcsponding, inhabitants, from the wilderness of death which every autumn
produces in the city,* th ere is very littl e pl ea.~ nrc in th o pro~pect ; and, notwlthstand·
ing the rich fields, noel the various blossoms of th eir orchards, I prefer the barren,
breezy, rock of Bermuda, to whole continents of such dearly purchased fertility.
Whil e In N ew York, I employed my tlm o to advantage in witn essi ng all the novel· ·~
ties possible. I saw young M. Bnonaparte, and felt n slight shock of on earthquake,
whi ch are two things I could not often m~et with up on U sher's Quay. From Norfolk
I intend goin g to Baltimore and Washington; if possibl e, also to Philadelphia and Boston, from thence to Halifax. From H alifax I h ope to set sail, in the cabin where I nvw

365

'xcvrI.

: ·c.t.:.t ;·.. ·· J ' '
:~ r· • ~t·· y
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( C 0 N T I N U E D )• .

§ 437. Folding and Sealing.

..

~

As .envelopes are now generally used for enclosing letters the moat
"
tconvernent mode of folding
. . is as follows·. -As th esh ee t l"ies b'eiore
you,

urn up the bott~m until i.ts edge exactly lies upon the edge at the top,
an~ make ~ fold m the middle. 'Tiie sheet is now in an oblong form.
B~rng the side at your right hand to your body, and fold over about one
' third of th_e letter towards the top. Finally, turn as much of the up er
part over Ill the opposite direction.
p
Most envelopes .are self-sealing; that is, are furnished with a glutinous sub5tance, .wluch, o~ ·being moistened, answers the purpose of a
, sea~. ·when tlus convemence is wanting, a wafer is generally used; in
w~ich case: care must be taken no~ to make it so wet as to spread a.nd
s01l the adjacent parts.. The use of the wafer, however, implies haste .;
and those who. study etiquette, almost without exception; give the preference to sealrng-wax. Indeed, according to Lord Chester.field th
• of th
~ .
.
.
' e use
. e wa er Is open to a still more serious objection than the mere implyrng o~ haste. This nobleman is said, on having recei~ed a letter
_seale~ w~th t~e obnoxious article in question, to have remarked with
, .so~e 10d1gnat1on; " What does the fellow mean by sending me liis own
,&pzttle?"
If no envelope is used, but the old-fashioned mode of folding is follow~ 43T. What nre now generally used for enclosing letters? Describe the most 000 •
vemcnt ~od e of foldin g. Witl! what are most envelopes furnished? When thi 3 convenience is wanting, what ls ge nerally used? In tho use of the wafer, what must be ·
avoided ? , To what d? th~se who study e tiqu ette give the preference? Why? Whnt
w:is Lord Chestcrficl<l s objection t,o tho wafer? If the old-fashioned mode of folding
Is followetl, wh at must be nvolded in putting on 1ho seal?

.

--~..-------· 366

LETTERS.

NARRATIVES.

ed, be careful that the seal, whether wax or wafer, is so plnced, that thi!
opening of the l~tte r will not render any part of the writing illegible. .,

Caroline, Mary becomes Miss Temple; and, on that of both Caroline ·and
Mary, Cornelia assumes the title in question.
·
A few forms, with their appropriate replies, may be of service.

§ 438. Sitperscription.-The superscription of a letter is
the direction on the outside, consisting of the name of the per·
son addressed, and the place and state in which he lives.

INVITATIONS.

No.1.
Mrs. Dunn presents her compliments to
:?ifr. nnd Mrs. Bnker, and solicits th-0 pl-ensure of their compnuy on Tuesday evening,
the 12th inst.
23 Broadway,
Sept. 8.

In directing, be careful not to npply to a person two titles that mean
the same thing; as, jJfr. Robert Jones, Esq.; IJr. Edward Sayre, jJf. IJ.
In the first example, either jJ[r, or E sq. should be omitted; and, in the
last, either IJr. or jJf. IJ.
When a letter is not sent by mail, but is taken by private liand, it is
customary to acknowledge the f:wor by placing on the outside, at .the
lower corner on the left, the bearei·'s name, in some such expression as
the following:-" Politeness of jJfr. - - " ; "Gourte:>y of jJfrs. - - " ;
" Favored by jJfiss - - ".
A letter of introduction should contain, in the same position as the
above, the name of the i)erson introduced, in some such form as the
following:-" Introducing Mr.--"; "To introduce Mr.--".

iI

7 Greene st,
Sept. 4.

No.1. ·
Mr. and Mrs. Baker accept with pleasure Mrs. Dunn's polite invitation for the
12th inst.
Jny st.,
Sept. 9.

No. 2.-A Regret. ·
Mr. Marshall regrets that 11 previous
engagement will deprive him of the
plensnre of accepting Mr. Brlstow'a Invitation to dinner for Wednesday next.
Astor Honse,
·
·
; , •.
Sept. 5.
• !

N o.3.
Mr. W. F. Cameron presents his r espects
to Miss Lydia Bryant, and b egs that ho
mny be nllowed to wait on her this evenin"'
0
to tho Italinn Opera.
Liberty st.,
Sept. 3.

Business notes have the same form as letters. Notes of invitation
should be written on small sh eets, called, from the use to which they
are appropriated, note-paper.
It is customary, in writing notes, to u se the 3d person instead of both
the 1st and 2d, as in the example given below. Care must be taken to
avoid the common error of introducing the 1st or 2d person, after the
3d has been thus employed ; as in the following: " Mrs. lV!tite present• •
her compliments to .Afr. Roy, and solicits the pleasure of your [instead of
hisJ company on Monday evening, the 4th inst.
In notes, the oldest or only daughter of a family is addressed .as
Miss - - , no other name being used; when there are other daughters;
they are distinguished by their Christian names. If JHr. David Temple,
for instance, has three daughters, Caroline, .Mary, and Cornelia, the first .
is properly addressed as Miss Temple; the second, as Miss Mary Temple;
and the third, as Miss Cornelia T emple. On the death or marriage of
§ 4.38. "\Vhnt is monnt by the superscription of n lotter ? In directing, what must :we , .
avoid? Give exflmples, When a letter Is tnken by privnte band, how is It cn&o•
tomary to acknowledge tbe fnvor? Whnt should a letter of introduction contain on tho
back, besides the superscription?
.
§ 43!J. Whnt ls fl note? Whflt form hnvo business notes? On whnt should noU.
of Invitati on be written? Jn whflt perso n docs th o writer sprnk of himself? In what1 ,
of tho person nddresscd? Against what commo n error is the writer cautioned? ,, ID
n ote~, how is the ohlcst dnughtcr of fl family ncldrcsscd? How, the other daugh~r

REPLIES,

No. 2.
Mr. Bristow requests the pleasure of the
Hon. Mr. Mnrshnll's compnny at dinner on
Wednesday next, nt 4 o'clock.

§ 439. A short letter is called a Note.

(

36'l

No. 8.-A Regret. · '
··
Miss Lydia Bryant presents her compliments to Mr. W. F. Cameron, and regrets that sfokness in her family will prevent her acceptance of his invitation for
this evening.
Montague square,
Sept. 8.

EXERCISE.

I. Write a letter to a friend in the city from some country
retreat which you may have lately visited, remembering
to draw up a preliminary analysis, and to follow the
models in the last lesson, as regards date, address, &c.
-·II. Write a note requesting the loan of a volume from a.
friend.
Write a note accepting a friend's invitation to tea.

LESSON

XOVIII.

NARRATIVES.

,

§ 440. A

NARRATIVE

is a composition which consists, for

~he most part, of an account of real facts or events; but into

~!ve an example. On the death or mnrringe of the olclest daughter, ho'v is the second
·
·
daughter addrcl'8ed? Give the form of a noto of lnvltntlon, find the reply.

368

NAllllATIVES.

NARRATIVES.

which, description, argument, exposition, or speculation, may
also be introduced.
·~
§ 441. Narratives are divided into Histories, Biographies,
Obituaries, Voyages, Travels, and Anecdotes.
§ 442. A History is an account of facts or events pertain·
ing to distinguished places or objects, to communities, nations;
or states. A detached portion of history; confined to any particular era or event, is known as an Historical Sketch.
The difference b etween. a history an.d annals is, that the latter
merely enumerate events in chronological order, without admitting any
observations on the part of the writer; wheTeas history has less regard
to the order of time, and allows the writer to investigate causes and
_,
effects, and to introduce other matter connected with the subject.

§ 443. A history, to be good, must be true and interesting.

369

cial mention. American literature can boast of three names equally
great,- Bancroft, Hildreth, and Prescott. · The style of the latter is
justly regarded as a model of historical_writing1 as well from its purity
and beaut,y as from the absorbing interest with which it invests whatever h e treats.
.
The North American Review makes the following remarks on Pres~ott's style, which are. wor~hy of being added, as likely to convey a just
' idea of what a good h1stoncal style should be:. " Mr. P rescott is not a mannerist in style, and does not deal In ~laborate, antithetical

n1 ooly-balanced periods. His sentences are not cast in the same artificial mould nor i~
there a J!:rpctual recurrence of the same fnrms or' expression, 88 In the writings of John·
. son or Gibbon; nor have they that satin-like smoothness and gloss for which Robert.son
Is ~o re?rnrk able. The dignified simplicity of his style is still farth er removed from any
thmg l~k e pertness, smartness, or affectation; from tawdry gum-flowers ofrhetoric, and
brass-gilt ornaments; from th ose fantastic tricks with language which bear the same
l'Clnti on to goocl writing that vnulting and tumbling do to walkl~g. ' It Is 'perspicuous,
flexible, and natural, sometimcH betraying a want of -high finish, but 'always manly,
always correct,-nevcr feeble, and ne;ver -inflated. He does not darkly insinuate statements, or leave his reader to \nfer facts. Indeed, It may be said of his style, that .it has
no marked character at all. Without ever offending the mind or the ear, it hll.'l nothln"
that attracts observation to it, simply as a sty1e. It. Is a transparent medium- throu"'h
which w~ see_ the form and movement of the writer's mind. In this respec~ we m;y
compare it with the manners of a well-bred gentleman, which have nothing so peculiar
. 88 to awaken attention, and which, from their very ease and simplicity, enable the essential qualities of the nnd erstanding and character to be more clearly discerned."

The first essential is truth. The writer must present a faithful ac·
count of what has taken place, or his work is valueless. _All prejudice
must he laid aside. Nothing must be concealed, nothing exaggerated.
All available sources of information must be explored, and whatever _ .
bears on the subject in hand must be brought to light. In cases of
doubtful or conflicting testimony, the rules of evidence must be care- ·
fully weighed, and truth ensured at the expense of every other c~n­
sideration.
In the second place, a good history must be interesting. Much de:. .
pends on the manne1· of the historian. \Vhateve1· the nature of the·.'
events he records, however great his research or accurate his statements, if his style is dry, dull, or lifeless, he can not h ope to gain the
favor of his r eaders. He should aim at simplicity, clearness, apd
strength; but, when h e is dwelling on those splendid achievemen~
which at intervals have spread a glorious r efulgence over the page or
history, with his subj ect he naturally rises to sublimity.
The English language has produced many historians of the fir&,t
rank; among whom, Robertson, Hume, and Gibbon, are worthy of BPe"-

§ 444. A Biography is an account of the life of an individu.al vY hen the chief incidents only are touched upon, it is
called a Biographical Sketch. The style recommended in the
~ast pa~agraph for hi~tory is also appropriate to biography.
1
:,~h~ wn ter _should avoid a tendency to minuteness .of , uninter~
- estrn~ detail, and exaggerated praise of the person of whose
iife he i:::i treating.
·
·
'·'

§ 440. Wbat is a narrati ve?
§ 441. Into wbat aro nnrralives divid ed ?
§ 442. What is a history? What is an historical sketch?
tween a history and annals.
·
§ 443. What two things are essential to a good history? To ensure truth; wlil&
must the writer do? What is the second esscntia! of a good history? On what doel
much depend? At what should th e historian aim? When does he naturally rlee W
sublimity? Mention somo of the prominont English historians. Mention those

-_-\mgulshed In America: literature. What ls said of Prescott's style? In what terms
,.
· does the Nor th American Review s_peak of it?
J'- § 444. What is a biography ? What is a biographical sketch? What style Is ap~ iP_ropriate to biography?
Against what tendency should the biographer be on his
prd?
' '. § 445. What is the third variety of nnrrat! ve? What Is an obituary? By whom
'2'e obituaries generally written? What, therefore, is the natural tendency in tho

i!:.T/

,

" § 445.

The third variety of narrative is the Obituary;
, 'Yhich is a notice of a person's death, accompanied with a
·brief sketch of his life and character. Obituaries are generally written by friends of the deceased, in whom -as in the
•.
'

16*

NARRATIVES.

biographer, there is a natural t endency to exaggerate the
abilities and virtues of those whose memory they would pre-I
serve. Such exaggeration fails of its object, being readily de"
tected, and in that case not only losing its effect, but actually
offending the reader. In this, as in every other species of
narrative, truth should be the primary object.

when promulgated for the first time. As now used,. however,
this term signifies an account of an interesting detached incident, particularly one connected with the career of some distinguished person. The point of an ane.c dote should not be ob.scured by too many words~
§ 449. The only example it is thought necessary to present, is one of the anecdote. The other varieties form so
considerable a portion of the current literature of the day that
the student can hardly go amiss for suitable models.

§ 446. Travels constitute the fourth kind of narrative.
Th~y may be defined as an account of incidents that have

happened, and observations that have been made, during a
journey; and form one of the most entertaining and popular
departments of literature.

ANECDOTE OF DR. FRANKLIN.

Narration constitutes the greater part of a book of travels; but de:
scription and the other elements of composition may also be introduced,',
in a g~eater or less degree. Keen powers of observation arc essential to '
the writer in this department of composition. His style should be varied ,
to suit the different objects and incidents he is called on successively to ,
describe; ornamented or simple, snblime or sparkling with humor, as .•
occasion may require. To awaken in tcrest in his reade rs, h e should se·, ·
lect new and important subjects only, and exhibit them in their most ·
striking light.
·. '. .
1

§ 44 7. The fifth cbss comprises Voyages; which resem-' •
ble travels in every respect, except that th e incidents they re·
late are such as have happened to one passing by water be·
tween countries remote from each other. As regards style!
the same principles apply as in the case of travels.

§ 448. 'rhe last variety of narrative we shall here mention,
is the Anecdote. This term is derived from two Greek words
(a privative, and ~KOoToc;, given out, made public); and wa~
originally applied to an historical fact not generally know ~~ .
writers of obituaries? \Vhat is said of such exnggerntion? In all tho 'l(lrletles o
nnrrntive, what should be the primary object?
.
§ 446. \Vhat constitute the fourth kind of narrative? What Is m eant by travell r ·
What constitutes the greater part of a book of travels? What else may be lntrq;,
dnced? "What is essential to success In the writing of travels? What style is mo&J
effective for them? What subj ects should bo selected by the wrlter3 of travels?
§ 447. What Is the fifth division of narrntives? In wh"t do voyages differ fr~~.
travels? What style is recomm ended for voyages?
· •·
§ 448. ·what is the Inst variety of narrative mentioned? From what is the wd

,\

371

NARRATIVES.

370

Lon g after the victories of Washin gton over tbe French and English had made
his name familiar to all Europe, Dr. Franklin chanced to dine with the English and
French ambassadors; when, as nearly as the precise words can be recollected, the
following toasts were drunk:"ENGL AND-The Sun whose bright beams enlighten and fructify the remotest cor·
ners of the eartll."
The Fr~ n ch ambassador, filled with national pride, but too polite to dispute the pre• vious toast, drank th e following:" FRAN CR-Tho llfoon whoso mild, steady, and cheering rays, are the delight of nll
n~tl ons, consoling thcrn in darkness, and making their dreariness beautiful."
· Dr. Franklin then arose, and, with his usual dignified simplleity, said:"GEORGE W ASIIINGTON-The Joshua who commanded the Sun and Moon to stand
still; and they obeyed him ."

•

EXERCISE.

I. Write, in your own l~nguage, an Anecdote of Richard
the Lion-hearted.
Write, in your own language, an Anecdote of Philip of
..~ . Mucedon, from the following heads : • · ; A Macedonian soldier bad so distinguished himself by extraordinary act8 of
'to gain the favor of King Philip and many marks of royal approbation.
,

viifor as

-. Thi~ soldier was once shipwrecked; nod, being cast ashore with scarcely a sign of
was revived only by the care and tenderness of a Macerlonian, whose lands were
,!l<mtignons to tho sea, and who hastened to his relief. Placed In this good man's bed,
carefully DlJTscd, and freely supplied with the necessaries of life, the shipwrecked soldier found himself, at the expiration of forty days, sufficiently recovered ·to be able to
'1!5Dme his journey. He left with loud protestations of gratitude to his kind host; and.
Worming the lntter of his influence with th e king, promised that his first care should
be tO secure from the royal bounty a munificent reward for one who had eo generously
}!efrlended him in tim e of n eed.

µte,

originally applied? As now used1 WQf!l
Wh at Is the effect of too many words in an anecdote?

I

._- ~

372

EXERCISE et BIOGRAPHY.

EXERCISE IN BIOGRAPHY.

In reality, however, he was filled with ba.<e cupidity, and nngrntefally resol•ed to
p rocure for himself the grounds of his benefactor. Shortly nfler, ho pre~entcd him~olf
before the king; nnd, recounti ng his misfortunes nnd st th e ~nme time his 1"enlcet1, •
begged that Philip would give him nn estate, and specified thnt of his entertainer ns
one which would be peculiarly acceptable. Ignornut of the circumstances, Pbllip in·
considerately granted the req ucst.
The soldier immediately return ed , nnd, drlYlng out his preserver with violence,
seized on the property In question. The !alter, stung to tho heart by tlils u11pnralleled
jngrntitude. boldly npproache<l the king, and laid th e whole case before him. Philip,
finding, on examination, th e story to be true, lam ented his own In considerate act,
ordered the property to be restored, mad e th e eutfering complainant a munificent
present, and, seizing t he b!l.!;e roldier, eonfi>catro bis good>, snd bad th e -word> 'IlDl
t:"SGEA.n:rt'L GC'E!iT bra!'.J<lOO IJD his forehe8Ji.
[C195e nitb r emarks 0 11 the ling·s j a5tice.J

LESSON
EXERCI-,E

IN

XCIX.
BIOGRAPHY.

FnoM the following points, draw up two Biographical
Sketches, one of Alfred the Great, and the other of William ..
the Conqueror. If furth er information is needed, any history

will supply it.
ALFR:ED THE GE.E.!Y.

Introduction-Responsibility r es ting on .kings-How muc~ 1 .
the happiness or misery of their subjects. ?epends o.n them- ·
How some kings abuse their opportumt1es of <lomg good,
while others are incalculable blessings to the lands they rule-:;
How it was in the 9ase of Alfred.
Born 849, at \Vantage in Berkshire-son of Ethelwolf;
his mother was Os burgh, daughter of Os lac, butler to Eth~ ·
wCllf. but well des<"ended.
•·
HiE earl> e-:b<."3tiO!l neg!e<"t-?d-hiE natural
kno"ll"Jt"lze ~killf"<:l in bodily ex~rc:~
_
• ~-

•
-·
~- ,, •l-.=. ~..,
,,!' ... ~~
H;, - f'Ti>"!!!...t'S.
r-=~ .1.~es: '- .• '- · t -· ·t ·- -~( 3ort?d~!!- ~n::i~k- :!.!::d S •:>!"Y3!J f ·:i_,.,...,.,...,,!-:=.c o f lli b~
.:>

s...TT!J..i t?~'X"!:!l..~ ::'!! ::;;

3 !!3'!·

-

373

Losses and reverses 'of fortune-anecdote of the burnt
cakes-visit in disguise to the Danish camp-defeat of the
Danes-baptism of Guthrum-Alfred's power increases.Peace during the last two years of his reign-dies 901.
. His character-learning-piety-habits-political institut1ons-:-patronage of learned men...:.....divisioil of England into
countws, hundreds, tithings, &c.
WILLI.!~

THE OO:SQUJ!ROR.

I~troducti on~ome kings seem to have been chosen by
Prondence
as rnstruments for effectinu
mighty ch~nues
in
.
0
b
.nations-the case with William the Conqueror-intermixture
of N orwans with Saxons produced the English. nation 'c;if. the
present day.
. ·
·
·: : , ... -

Whose son ?-his title to the English thron~--his ri~~i­
the invasion of England-the number of 'William's ariny-·where he landed.
Harold's title t-o the crown-proposals made by William
.to HarClld the night before the b3ttle.
The battle and its circumstances-death of Harold , and
victory of William-14th October, 1066. Extinction of the
Saxon rule-submission of the clergy. .
Coronation--oath-return to Normandy-Effects of his
absence-Conspiracy of the English-return of William> and
_ treatmen t of the rebels and English clergy.
-· D estined to >exation and trouble-his children-anecdote
,.of their quarrels.
Insurrection in N ormandy--conduct of the queen, daughter of Baldwin, Earl of Flanders-rebellion quelled by ail
,,English army.
Death of Queen Matilda-insurrection in Maine aided by
1he King Clf Frn!lce.
In~-i<J::i of France by Willram-~mdent -,rlJ.fob eau..~
die de3 tb of tb ~ inro_: in 10~;'.
CM~;.::r-<".b~~ pr<:><lae-ed in E g'JJid daring mreign
~elati~ b~tw-een tne S.u0r!~ :md tlre .N~

--. 374

·-

FICTION.

FICTION•

LESSON

C.

important departments of literature. Obtaining greater cur- ·
rency than almost any other kinds of writing, and furnishing
food, as they do, to a great extent, for the imaginations of the
young, they exert a powerful influence on the morals and taste
of a nation. That this influence should be cast on the side of
morality and truth, is all-important.

"

FICTION .

§ 450. FrcTION is that branch of composition. whic~1 consists in the narration of imaginary incidents. "'\V ith this narr~tion, descriptions of material objects, of natural scenery, and
of persons are generally combined.

1: will b~ seen that the difference between the narr~ti-.c and the fict'on lies in the character of Lhe incidents they respectively relate; the
f~rmer b eiug limited to such as are true, while those of the la.tter are
created either wholly or in part by the imngination.
e say m part,
for fiction s may be founded on fact, historical events berng .often taken
as the basis of such compositions. If the details have been mvent~d by
the author, if imaginary conversati~ ns, characters, or scenes, are mtroduced it is sufficient to constitute a fiction.

:v

§' 45]. The chain of incidents on which a ficti?n is f?un~ed,

is called its Plot. A plot should not be glarrngly uaprob·
able ; it should be moral, consistent in all its parts, and so
managed as to keep alive the reader'~ interest throughout.
This is often ensured by reserving some unportant denouement
for the last.
§ 452. Next to a good plot, nothing is 11.10.re n ccess~ry. to _
and hfe-hke
· fict 1't 1'ous composition than a stnkmg
•
• •
success 111
portraiture of character. Individual peculiant1es
and manners must be carried out. Whate,~er th.e personag~1· .
introduced say or do, must strictly hannomze mth the ch~t
acter assiuned them by the i-riter.
·
§ 453~ Fictitious compositions constitute one of the
=-Jiat is fi ction 1 \\ith this narration, "<>hat nre generally combinefidcti? -· ..._
§ 450" "
rl fi r
· On "'bat
may
o.- constitutes th e differen ce bet"'een a narrati..-e an a .IC wn:
•
is sn1lldd ,,
fonnd ed? "\\bat are often taken as a b&'i.5 for tbem? In snch case.., ...-bat
.:· •
T
• \lb t is e!llellllll
to con<ti!i:;te a fiction?
~ 1 \\ b!lt is m esnt t>y the plot of a fictiliom corup<>, 1 100_s
. r
·1~ re:;. ct. to s plot? Ho"' is th e read er's i ntere!'t 0flen k ept sh ..-: to t~e. end~
m § 4.'iZ~"'\ex t to 8 good plot, "'bat is m<l!;t impornnt t o sncce~ m fictJtio05
"f
)

375 ·

sition • \\b at is meant by tbis?
.
n tbe ~
§ -i5.'3. Esplain bow fictitic,ns compo>i lions exert a po"<>erfnl rnflnence o

In the hnnds of judicious writers who feel the responsibility of their
position, fiction becomes an important instrument of good. It furnishes
one of the beo.t channels for conveying instruction, for showing the
errors into which we nre betrayed by our passions, for rendering virtue
attractive and vice odious. .Accordingly, we find that the wisest of
men, in all ages, have used fables and parables as vehicles of moral ·instruction. It must be observed, however, that, while fiction, as shown
above, may be an effective instrument of good, it is no less powerful an
agent of evil, when diverted from its proper use, and made to teach a
false moral or pander to the baser passions. No ordinary responsibility,
therefore, rests on the writ.er in this department of composition.

§ 454. The principal forms in which fiction appears are
Tales, N ovcls, Romances, and Dialogues.
The first three of these are closely related; the difference
between them is as follows. The Tale is short and simple,
and admits of comparatively few characters; it is told without
much regard to keeping the reader in suspense, and often has
but little depth of plot or importance of denouement. The
Novel and the Romance, on the contrary, admit of every pos. sible variety of character, and afford the greatest scope for
~xciting the interest of the reader by a rapid succession of
' ~vents, an invoh-ement of interests, and the unravelling of intricacies of plot. The Novel, though thus like the Romance
in its main features, differs from the latter in that it aims at
the · delineation of social manners, or the development of a '
· ~tory founded on the incidents of ordinary life, or both to·
gether; whereas the Romance is based on incidents, not mereIDd taste of a nation.

In the banil5 or jndiclot13 writer!, what does fiction beeome 7
On the other hand, show how it may be
IUmded ...-itb tbe mp;t pern icious effect;.
f 454. What Me the prin cip:il f'lnn~ in wh ich fiction appesrs? What are the dis·~ing fratnres of tbe !3.le, the n ot'el. and tbe romance! What word is commonly

'libo.- how it is made an instrnment pf good,

-

.1.,

--

I
376

FICTION.

ly improbable, but altogether wild and out of the commqn1;
course of life at the present day,-on legends of bygone ages,
heroic exploits of former times, supernatural events, and vagaries of the imagination in general. In all three, the plot may
be unfolded, at least in a measure, by means of conversations
between the characters introduced.
The word story is commonly used as synonymous with tale. Proper·
ly speaking, however, this term is applied to any narrative of past
events, real or fictitious. We speak of" the story of Joseph," and " the
story of the Forty Thieves."

A Dialogue is a fictitious conversation between two or
more persons.
Dialogues have been used with g1·eat success, particularly by the
ancients, as a convenient form for the discussion of serious topics connected with criticism, morals, and philosophy. Well conducted, they
are peculiarly entertaining to the reader; as they not only afford him
a full view of the subj ect in all its r elntions, but at the same time please
him with their easy conversational style, and their display of w ell-supported characters. But, to be thus effective, a dialogue must show in a
striking light the character and mnnners of the several speakers, must
adapt to these their thoughts and expressions r es pee ti vcly,-in a word,
must be a spirited representation of a real conversation.
In this difficult branch of composition, few have equalled Plato, in
whose mind soundness of judgment seems to have been combined in an . . '
unprecedented d egree with richness of imagination. Socrates is one of •
his prominent characters. This sage, whom he reveres as a philosopher
and loves as his master, is represented as conversing with the sophists
on various topics; as asking them questions which bear on the point
without their perceiving it, founding new interrogatories on the answers received, and thus leading them on until they suddenly fin(l
themselves involved in difficulties and absurdities, and are obliged, by
the admissions they have made, to own the falsity of their own position
and the correctness of their adversary's. This mode of r easoning has
used ns synonymous with taler What two-fold signin.cat.lon hns this term story r
lu strate each. ·what is a dialogue? For what have dialogues been used? What renders th em, wh en well conducted, peculiarly entertniuin g to the render. To be effective,
wh at Is essential with respect to a dialogue? Who is distinguished for his skill in tl)ls
department of composition ? Who constitutes one of Plnt.o·s promin ent characters?
Describe the Socratic mode of rensoning as represen ted in Plato's dialogues. ·what Is
meant by a Socratic <linlog uo? ·what other kind of dialogue is mentioned? Whal

FICTION.

377-

he·n ce been called Socratic .
is pursued.
' and a Socratic dialogue is one . in which it
. There are also lighter dialogues in w .
.
.
i;nporl·ant part, and which are desi' ne h~.ch. wit and hui_n?r play an
hes of the dav. The' e L .
g d puncipally to satirize the folJ
~ ,
ucian among th
·
.
d ' .
e ancients, carr1ed to a high
degree of perfection I .
the lighter or the gr.av ~I~od erhn times, we have few specimens either of
e1 nu ' t at can be .d t
the difficulty of this sty! f
. .
sa1 o possess superior merit.
e o compos1t10
'
.
n seems to have brought it into
disfavor with the maior1't f
.,
Yo writers.
.

§ 455. An extended dialo ue co . .
. .
accommodated to act·
d g ' . .ns1stmg of different scenes
ion, an partic1pat d · b
·
e m Y. a number of
characters, who appear and d.
necessary for th d
isappear at intervals as may be
e eve 1opment of the I t .
II
Dramas are written i
"th
p o ' is ca ed a Drama.
the latter. for whic~ e1 er prose or . poetry, but .generally
.
'
reason, W!;}. shall at
t
''fl.
presen postpone
t h e1r conside,.a,tion.
§ 4.56. We subjoin a specimen of the tale

m which, by r eason of "t

b .
. ,-one, however,
little plot. In tal
f l s l rev1ty, there is necessarily. but
es o any enuth
des . t•
0
duced with eftec t .
cnp ion may be intro'
CARDINAL RICHELIEU'S GUEST.

Carclinal rle Richeli eu hns alwn ' b
acco1'.nt~ ho we.II rlcservc<l tho uau}es ;~: ~onsi<lered a great mitJister, and on some
chy, Ill rlcspatching tho Inst hc1irls uf ~he feud:td ered an immense service to· monar.
for tho establishment of tho Fre I A
hydra, and literature owes him much
writer, lie was ever ready to •nc I . cndemy. Although himself but an indiffierent
f h
encourage the a ts,
d
.
o ot ers. The Cardinal however c Id
t r an paid liberally for the efforts
the subject of comment, ~arliculnrl ' sl:~ no endure that his ·nets should be made
culnted to elicit very warm comm:Od t' c somo of them were of a character not cal
e:f~l, Indeed, occnsionally Indulged in ~r~:~ fl·om lovers of morality. The more pow~
dll'ldnal that was indiscreet e
h
om of speech; but woe to the humble Inhis Emin enc1J. With such he ~o~g publicly to find fault with the peccadilloes of
tually closed their lips for the f;tn:e.summary way of privately dealing which etfec1'I. Dumont, a small merchant of the Rue
.
dated Ru eil, n little village on the outskirts fS~ ~ems, received one morning a letter,
try-sent. This letter contained
. . .o ans, where the Cardinal had a counEi ·
an mv1tat1011 to sup
f.
mnen ce. M. Dumont could not be!'
b'
per or the next day with hls
looked nt the direction, and final! co~:~: is eyes; be read tho letter several times,
dde~ that. he must be Indeed the person to
whom It was addressed. ArnozeJ b
eyon expresswu, he called his wife and da.nghancient writer excelled In it? W
with tho majority of writers?
hat has brought this kiud of composition into disfavor
§ 455. What is a dramn? •
,~re dramas generally wrlttc .
n m prose, or poetry ?

j

i

.........__,...,
378

FICTION.

to eommunlcnlo to them his good fortune. You mny lma.glno tho joy and pride
of tlie three women I
About four o'clock ho mounted his horse, nnd started for Rucil. lie had scarcely
passed the suburbs, when tho cloutls assumed n threatening look, and the sound of distant thunder announced tho npproach of a violent Hlorm. Tho merchant, having
neglected to provide himrnlf with a cloak, cloubl ed th e 8pecd of his horse. llut ~he
storm travelled foster thnn his stcecl; fln~h es of lightning 8ttcceeded cnch other with
frightful rnpltlity, nud the rain fe ll In torrents. Assailed by tlie tempest, our hero put
his horse to the gallop; but at length, unable to continue his journey, he stopped at
a small tavern in Mauterrc. lie alighted, sent his horse to tho stnble, and took refuge
In a low room, whern the servants li ghted a blazing flro to tlry his clothes. ·while ho
was warming himself, tho door openctl, and anotb er person, nlso drcr1chcd with rain,
entered, nnd seated himself in tho opposite corn er.
Th e two tro.vcllers looked nt cacb other fur somo time in silen ce. At la~t, M. Dumont addressed his companion with the words: "What dotcstahle weather I"
"It is very bad indeed," replied the stranger. "But It is on ly n shower, which, I
hope, will soon pass over."
"Hear," continued III. Dumont; "the storm increases ; penis of thunder shake the
hou se ; the rain fall s in torrents: and yet I must go on."
"Sir," said th'l unknown, "it mu st be important busin ess that can induce you to
proceed on your j ourney in this weather."
"It is, indeed," said Dumont; "I will tell you: It is no secret. I nm Invited to a
.
supper, this evening, with the Cardinal de Rlch clicu."
"Ab! I know it is 11 difficult matter to decline such nn invitation. lint you have ·
still n long way to go, and bow can yon present yourself bcforo bis Eminence In the
slate in which you now arc? "
. . . ,,
"Ills Eminence will, perhaps, appreciate my eagern ess to ac cept l1 is kind 111v1tntio~.
"If I did not fear to nppenr indiscreet., I would ask you if you over had any thmg
to do with the Cardinal."
"Nothing at nil. I n;ust even say that I can not account for tho farnr which I
have received."
"The Cardinal is very jealous of his authority; he docs not like to ha'l"c his actions
judged. On o word someti mes is sufficient to excite his suspicion ; think well. Have
you never given bis Eminence any cause for complaint ngninst ~ou?"
·.
'
"I think not. l !1 ave been constantly occupi ed with my busm ess. I have no rnter·
est in what they call politics. However, I beli eve that, before two or three friends only, .
I censurctl th e death of the Duke of Montmorency, and you would have done tho same, I
.
,(
had your grandfather been the steward of that illustrious no?le.''.
"1.Iy dear sir you look like an honest man. You have rn sp1red me with much In· ,
' yon listen to mo then? Do not go to II ue1'!"
te.rest for yon; will
.
"Not go to R ueil I I shall set out this instant., iu spite of the storm:"
,
"One word more, my friend, for your position interests me cxccedmgiy; y~u really
believe that th e Cardinal is expectiu g you to supper ? Well, lot me unde ceive you.
You are expected 1 it is trnc,-but to be hun g I"
"Oh I rncrciful IIcnvenl whntdoyoumean? It ls nImpossible."
"I tell you again," snid the stranger," to ho hung!
JJ. t these words, Dumont, shuddering with terror, drew himself near to the un• 1
known.
"For H eaven's sake, how do you know?"
"I nm snrc or it."
•
"Bnt what have I don e to ~cserve such n fate?"
"!. •
"I don't know; unt I nm sme of what I say, for I nm the ono who bas been sent for.·
d
to hang you."

ESSAYS.

379

ter~,

' Tho poor merchant, pale ns a corpse, drew back several steps, and, scarcely able to
spenk, sa id:
" Pray tell me, sir- who are you?" '
"Tho hangman of Paris, called by his l):minence to despatch you. Think of the service I have rendered you, nnd remember that the least indiscretion on your part will
be my ru in."
Tho merchant remounted his horse without waiting for the storm to abate; and,
drenclied to the hone, he reached Parie. Instead of repairing to his own house, he
souglit sh elter with an old friend, to whom he related his adventure and wonderful escape. 'IVith the aid of moni>y, he obtai ned a passport, under a false _name; and, well disguised, started for England. There he remained till the death of the Cardinal which
•
'
occurred two years after.

EXERCISE.

Write a Tale, founded on incidents of your own invention, and conveying the moral that appearances are deceitful.

-----·-- LESSON

CI.

ESSAYS.

§ 457. EssAYs constitute the fourth division of prose com. positions.
The term essay li terally signifies an attempt; and is generally applied, in literature, to productions in which a writer ·
. briefly sets forth his views on the leading points connected
. w~th a subject, without pausing to consider ~hem carefully or
mmutely. Some writers, however, in a spirit of modesty,
·have thought proper to characterize as essays their most pro·
,found and elaborate compositions, following the example of
Locke in his celebrated "Essay on the Human Understanding ''.
The term has thus come to have a widely extended signification; and is now equally applicable to the crude exercise of
' the school-boy and the sublimest effort of the man of letters.
· § 457. Whnt constitute the fourth division of prose compositions? Wliat does the
term essay literally signify? To what Is it generally applied in literature? What hnve
. IOme writers, In a spirit of modesty, used this term to denote? What Is the consequence, as regards the present acceptation of tho word essay r What, for the most part,

380

F '

ESSAYS,
ESSAYS.

The themes of essays are, for the most part, either abstract.
'
subjects or topics connected with life and manners.
§ 458. The term essay being thus comprehensive, the compo·
sitions so designated are susceptible of division into a variety :
of classes distinguished by particular names;· the principal
of which are Editorials, Reviews, Treatises, Tracts, Disserta· '
tions, and Disquisitions.
An Editorial is a short essay on some current topic of the
day, presented in a newspaper or periodical as embodying the·
views of its conductors.
A Review is a critical essay on some literary production,
in which its beauties and defects are pointed out.
A Treatise is a methodical and elaborate essay, generally
I
on some ethical, political, or speculative, subject.
A Tract is a brief essay, generally on some religious:)r "'
political theme, called forth by the events of the day, and seldom possessing sufficient general interest to survive the occa.· , ·•.
sion which gave it birth.
A Dissertation is an essay of some length, investigating, in
all its relations, some disputed subject; and written, not for.,
the purpose of establishing a given position, but of fairly pre·.
senting the arguments on all sides, and arriving at the truth, '
A Disquisition has the same object in view as a aisser·~ .•
tation,-that is, the eliciting of truth; it differs from the lat.: ,
ter only in being more brief, and being confined more strictIY, .
1
to the particular point under consideration.
' ·. ·
., , f

§ 459. In the conduct of the essay, great latitude .is
allowed. Its subjects are so various that no uniform mode,.,,
iof
treatment can be recommended or followed. The heads'.h·
be taken will of course differ according to the character 9[
the topics treated; yet, in most compositions of this cla
r.>
\
constitute the themes of essays? Ennmerato the classes into which essays are di ' '
dcd. What is an editorial? a review? a treatise ? a trnct? a dissertation? ~·
quisition?
§ 459. Wh at is nllowerl in tile conduct of an c~say? Why cannot 11 uniform m, _
of treatment be followed? According to what will the h eads tu be· taken differ?. ,.
'
'\ ::" 1o1

381

, th_e following. 'Yill be found appropriate. They ma be am·plified accordmg to the suggestions in § 409.
y
I. Introduction'--S

t'

406, 407' 40S. ugges Ions respecting it will be found in § 405,
Definition.
Origin.
History.
Historical nzustrations.

II.
III.
IV.
· V.
VI. A~vantagcs. Sim!le~ and Quotations.
, ' VII. IJisad~antages. ~mules and Quotations.
.VIII. Practical Conclusion.

If the subject is one on which there is a di.ffi

.
. .
.
of the fourth and the fifth h er~nc~ of op1mon, it may
.stitute the following:ea , give~ . above, to sub.

b~ well, in place

,~

IV. Statement of Views.

,.. ,,

I. General view What h . b
th
h
.
II all nat!ons, ~nd in all a~ses ;en oug t on this subject by
. Local view. What opinions al'e t t . d
. .
and country to which the write:b:i~:~~~ on it lil the age
Or the following division may be preferable:I. Ancient view or that held b th
.
especiul!Y: th~ir philosophers.y e ancients generally, and
II. Modern view. Causes which m h
a change of opinion.
ay ave operated to produce
Author's View. Arguments to sustain it
.
ment, or proving the truth of wh t . d. The negative arguabsurdity of the contrary, is ofte: i~~r~d~::J~i~{fishow~g the
) 1" It
·u b e seen from the above ·heads that
·
·
ue euect.
t-,. ~
WI
the es
.
.
the parts of composition -de . t'
.
say may contam all
speculation.
,
scrip wn, narrabon, arg~ent,_ exposition,
h

4

faS.' § 460.
./

As a specimen of ~he essay, in the b;ief fo~m i~ which

~- a scho?l. or colleg~ exercise, it generally appears we ~ub'oi'

,;-':~ompo.s1t10n on Friends/zip, which may be supp~sed t ~ n
!b~~n written from the following

. .

.

o ave

ANALYSIS.

· I. Defii;iition. What is friendship¥
IL Oriism ~nd !1-ecessity.
III. Es~imat10!1 m which it was former! held
~· ~mvfirsahty; extends t.o all ranks life . Examples.
C enel ts. of true, an~ evils of false, friend~hip f
one usion. Practical reflections.
.

i

!r

will generally be found appropriate? If the s b'
..
ence of opinion, what heads will it be well to ta~e~fect is one on which there ls a

-=

~ --

382

ESSAYS.

EXERCISE IN ESSAY WRITING.

383

II. Reasons why this is the oase.

FRIENDSlllP.

Friendship is an attlcbment hetween p ersons of congonlal dispositions, habits, and
pursuits.
It has its origin in th e nature and condition of man. Ile is a social creature, and
naturally loves to frequent tho society, and enj oy th e afTec tions, of those who are
like himself. Ho is also, individually, a feeble creature; and a se nse of this weakness
other enjoyments
r enders friend ship indispensable to him. Tlrougb h e may have
within his r each, he still finds his happiness in complete, unl ess participated by one
whom he considers bis fri end. When in difficulty and distress, he looks around for
advice, assistance, and consolation.
No wonder, therefore, that a sentiment of such importance to man sh ould have been
so frequ ently and so fully consiclerecl. We cnn scarcC\ly open nny of tho volumes of
antiquity without being reminded how excellent a thing is friendship. The examples of
David and J onathan, Achilles and Patroclus, Pylades and Orestes, Nisus and Eurya•
Ins, Damon and Pythias, all show to what a d egree of enthusiasm it was sometimes car·
ried. Even the great Cicero deemed it of sufficient importance to form the subject of
one of his masterly essays. But it ls to be fen.reel that, in modern tim es, friendship Is
seldom remarkable for similar devotedness. With som e, it is nominal rather than real;
and, w ith oth ers, it ls rcgulatocl entirely by self-interest.
Y ct it would, no doubt, he possible to prod nee, from ovcry rnnk In life, and from
every state of society, instances of sincere and disinterested friend ship, crcditablo to bu·
man nature, and to th e age in which we live. W e can not think so ill of our species aa ~
to b elieve that selfishness has got the better of their nobl er feelings sufficiently to destroy th eir sympathy with thei r fellow-creatures, and their lovo towards those whom
God hath given them for neighbors and brethren .
.After these r emarks, to enlarge on the b enefits of possessing a real fri end appe1111
unnecessary. What would be more intolerable than tho consciousness that in all tho
wide world, not oue heart beat in unison with our own, or cared for onr welfarer
What indescribable happiness must it be, on the oth er hand, to possess a real frlend;.a friend who will coun8cl, instruct, assist; who will b ear a willing part in our calamity,
and cordially r ejoice when t he hour of happiness r eturns I
Let us r emember, however, that all who assume th o namo of fri ends arc not entiUed
to our confidence. History records many in stances of th e fatal co11seq uences of Infidelity .
in fri endship; and it cannot be denied that the world contains men who ar.i happy to ftnd '
a heart they can pervert, or n head they can mislead, If thus th eir unworthy ends Clll
be more surely attain ed. Caution in the formation of fri endships Is, therefore, In tbt
highest degree n ecessary. We should admit none to th e altar of our social affectlolll
without closely scrnti nizing their lives and characters. "\Ve must nssnre ourselves lit
the uprightness and truth of those to whom we open our h earts in friendship, if we would
not have a pernicious Influ ence exerted on our own dispositions; if we would not, la
the honr of trial, find ourselves forgotten and abandoned to the cold charities ofan U.
sympathizing world.

nll

EXERCISE.

.write an Essay from the following extended Analysis ·:A GOOD CAUSE MAKES A STOUT HEART.
r
I. Introduction. Courage is a natural quality, yet it is often increaMcl
or lessened by circumstances. Among the considerations whi,11.
tend to confirm this quality on particular occasions, is the OOQo
sciousness that we have right on our side, that we are engag~ •
a just and honorable cause.

I. A mind conscious of right is not ashamed; and, as shame is

always cowardly, so the absence of it conduces to moral courage.
2. A mind consciou~ to itself of honest intentions is not paralyzed
by any fear o~ being detected in what it is doing.
3. C'.onsc1ous.rec~1tude gives confidence to ·the heart, from a conviction of bemg m the path of duty.
4. A.good ~au~e makes a stout heart, from a persuasion that God
will. mamtam the right; and, "if God be for us who can be
agamst us~"
·
' '
5. A desire ~or the approbation of men will encourage those who are
engaged Ill the cause of truth and justice
6. T.he just man ,will be furth er emboldened by the reflection that
h~s adversary s cause is a bad one, and can not prevail against
hun.
.
.. '
7. Eve_n to f~il i°; a goo~ cause is honorable; and, therefore, the
upright mmd is sustamed by the double assurance mentioned
by St. Paul, ." Whetl~er we live, we live unto the . Lord; or
whether we die, we die unto the Lord: living or dym
·· g we are
the Lord's."
·
'

Contrast.~Wh!le he who feels he is in the right is thus fearless,
o!le who i.s domg what he knows to be wrong is afraid to be 'seen·
his h ear~ is paralyzed by a constant dread of detection disgrace.
and pums~ment; and the conviction that he is maint~ining th~
wrong .agamst ~n adversary who is armed with the consciousness
of rectitude, w1~ have a most pernicious influence upon both his
moral and ws1cal courage.

Similes.-~s brigh~ armor will resist a musket ball far better than
a rust_v: smt of mail, so a good cause is far stronger than a puissant
arm rmsed to upho!d what is wrong.
A good fouudat10n makes a building firm; and when the rain
descends an~ th.e floods come, and the winds blow -and beat upon
that house, it ":111 not fall, because its foundation is secure: whereas, a hous~ bmlt upo~ the sand cannot resist the rain, the floods,
a~d the wmd, but will fall when they beat against it and great
will be the fall thereof.
'
'
A ship built of sound timber may weather the roughest sea·
but one made of rotten planks can not ride in safety through th~
smoothest water.
.
·
. A dog stealing 11: bone is alarmed at the slightest sound and
will run away~ while the same dog, guarding a. house at ~ight,
can not be terl'lfied by threats or danger.
A "thief ?oth fear each bush an officer"; but a soldier in the
' battle-field will stand fearlessly at the cannon's mouth.
·
Boys engaged upon their duty are not afraid of the eye of their
master; but every sound alarms them when they are doing what
they know to be wrong.
- A dY,ing man wl~o has endeavored to discharg~ his ·duty, is
not afraid to meet his Maker; but one whose conscience tells him
that h? has bee°: an evi l-doer, is in an agony of feal' when he
finds himself on Ius death-bed.

384
·

385

EXERCISES IN ESSAY WRITING.

EXERCISE IN ESSAY-WRITING,

V. Historical Jllustrations.-.A.ccording to Sha~speare's rep_resentation,
LESSON OIL ' .
Richard III., at the battle ?f Bos>yorth Fie!d, was we1~hed down
with the oppression of conscious [5tult; but R1.chmond, berng bu.o!ed
up with the co1:1viction of the JUstness of lus cause, fought. hke a
EXERCISES IN ESSAY•WltITING.
lion, and prevailed.
·
.
,
Macbeth started at every whisper of the wmd, or shriek of the
' ;.' l. DRAW up .an analysis, and wr~t~. ~nw_~ssay . from the folnight-hawk, when he went to ~n'lrder _Duncan; b~,t. stood as _an
"eagle a.gainst a sparrow! or a hon agamst a hare, m the fierce
lowing suaaestions
:· · ;;: -···"·o·;.in;
.) :· < · .
00
.
•
.
.
contest with the :Norwegian rebels.
;
:
:Vhat
is
Society
?-When
did
it
begih
~/exis.
t
l~trnder
what forms
Siccus Dentatus resisted a hundred :i~versaries sent to assa~si, did it at first appear?-What are its benefits l-What is the effect of ·
nate him, with considerable success; killing fifteen, and woundrng
· · society on the human mind ?-What is its effect on the arts ' and scithirty others.
.
. ·
t d' ;
, " ences 1--!::lhow the difference between a state of barbarism and one of
A usurper is in constant fear of conspiracies: common- ra 1-.
civili~ation.-What are the disadvantages of society¥~Mention some of
tion says that Cromwell wore armor under his clothes, and never .., _
t~e. vices engendered. by an over-refined state of society-and the . perwent and returned by the same route.
.
.
. mc10us effects resultrng to the community 'from them.-Give historical
Leonidas at the straits of Thermopylre, was not afraid with four
·: · • · ·" '.' ~;;~ ,', {»·'f ! • .. ,, · •
examples of these effects.
hundred me~ to oppose Xerxes, the invader of Greece, at the head
of a million troops.
·
ldl
· t d th
2. Draw up an analysis, and write . an . e~say, from the fole
William Tell, with a handful of ad~erents, bo y res1s e
.
;
~owing
suggestions:" , " "•:'..·~ '.1; ': ·, ••
Austrian multitude, and even r epulsed it.
,
~.
David with a simple sling and stone, encountered Goliath, the . _ '.
:Vhat does the word government signify 1-Show the origin and ne- .
'
.
giant of Gath,
and slew l nm.
. .
·,, '. ''
1cess~ty of government.-Show the effects of anarchy.-Which was the
VI. Quotations. Honor shall uphold the humble in spmt.-Prov~/ .
, .,earliest form of government 1-Describe this patriarchal form of govern' ,me~t.-What qualities naturally giv~ ~me man a power over others 7:xxrx., 23.
,..-.-. •
Which are, or nave been, the preva1hng forms of government ¥-EnuThe wicked flee when no man pursueth: but the righteous ar~ i
, erate the advantages and disadvantages of each.-Which is the most
bold as a lion.-Prov. xxvru., 1.
table ?-What is the form of government in this country?-Show the
Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful.-Shl!'kspeare.
dvantages of the government of the United States.-Conclusion · how
Thrice is he armed that hath his quarreMltst;
thankful we should be that our lots are cast in a cou
. ntry which ;njoys
And he but naked, though locked up in "';;teel,
so liberal a government, and how careful we should be not to abuse the
·whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.
b!essings thus placed within ou~ reach.
· . ·
. .. . :. i .; :.'
Shakspeare.
~ !

'

'

1

Conscience makes cowards of us all.-Shakspeare.
Conscience is a dangerous thing, it makes a man a coward; a,_
man can not steal, bttt it accuseth him; a ma1.1 ~an not swe.a~, b~t ~
it checks him. 'Tis a blushing shamefaced spmt, that mutrn1es ~n:
a man's bosom, and fills one full of obstacles.-Shakspeare. .
:,
When the mind proposes honora?le ends, not only the v1rtu~
but the deities also, are ready to ass1st.-Lord Bacon.
Innocence is the best armor.-Proverb.
VII. Conclusion.
1 When we feel ill at ease and afraid to persevere in an ente
' prise or take a bold part ngain~t ?ur adversaries, let us caref
ly examine whether our cause is JUSt.
.
2 If we would not be cowards, we must be s~re. tha~ we har
' right 011 our side · for if we have not, we will rnev1tably .
trust om· own suc~ess ~nd be unable to do justice to the ,c~.,,
in which we are engaged.
·

.

THESES, OR

_.,~eHoo---

ARGUM.ENTATIVE . DISCOURS~S. :

1§ 461. THE fifth form in which prose comp.ositio~s . appea~
~hat

of the Thesis, or Argumentative Discourse. · ·· ·" '· ·
,: A Thesis, or Argumentative Discourse, is a composition
,which the writer lays down a proposition, and endeavor11 to
ersuade others that it is true. The statements ·or treasons
.".

"'l"•

·I .

'461. What Is the fifth form In which prose composltlonaappear~':'''.,Wh~t: la a
•• or argumentative discourse? What are arguments t In'what.case does tbesJs
me an oration?
· · ...,,, .» ·• .

·a

17

1

386

.AIWUMENTATIVE DISCOUR.8E8.

ARGUMENTATIVE DISCOURSES.

used for this purpose are called Arguments. When intended
for delivery, or written in a suitable style for that purpose, a
thesis becomes an Oration.
·:
§ 462. In the conduct of orations and argumentativ~ dis: ·
· "ormal
divisions were adopted
by the ancients 1
courses, six
1·
• • •
the Exordium or Introduction, the D1v1s10n, the Statem~nt,
the Reasoning, the Appeal to the Feelings, and the Pe~oration.
It is by no means necessary, however, that these six parts
should enter into every discourse. To employ them all
would . inevitably, in some cases, produce an appearance . o~
stiffness and pedantry. Yet, as any of them may be used, W~
proceed to define and treat briefly of each.
. . .
§ 463. The object of the Exor_dium or Intr~duct10n is to .
render the reader or hearer well-disposed, attentive, and
to persuasion.
.,
'ro accomplish the first of these ends,_ the wr~ter must me.~e a m9~~i
.opening, and convey to his readers the 1n:press1~n t~e.t he is c!Ln~WI
m~inte.ining a position of the truth of w~1ch he is hunself assure.~ . ~.!'.
awaken attention, he should hint at the importance, novelty, ~r ?J~~ty
of ' the subject. · Finally, to make his readers open to convICt1~n,),'
shouid endeavor to remove any prejudices they may have formed, Q.g~~
the side of the question he intends to espouse.
. 1

The introduction of a discourse is its most difficult P~f.~
If as we have seen, it is important in other compositions ;~Y>
m~ke a good impression at the outset, it i~ doubly so ~hen ~e
are endeavoring to persuade. The followmg suggest10ns will,
be found generally applicable : ,r·
I. .A.n,introductioll' must be easy and natural. It must appear, U
Cicero says " to have sprung up of its own accord from the mattv.
under consideration". To ensure these qualities, it is .recom~~nd,!4
that the introduction · should not be composed until the other P.I}~ ~
§ 462. In the conduct of argumentative discourses, what formal divisions
adopted by the ancients? In some cBSes, what would result from employing. -~¥i!
~~'
§ 463. What Is the object of the exordlum? What must the writer do, in o~~
~
ncrompllsh these three ends? What is said or the importance of having an .!!~~
Introduction? Whnt Is the first essential of an introduction? What does Cj~.
on this head? To ensure this, when I• It recommended that the Introduction ''I!,~~

• the discourse are written; or at least until its general scope and bearing
are digested. Cicero, though in tree.ting .of the subject he distinctly e.P:.
proves of this plan, did not see fit in his own case to follow it. It was
· t his custom, as we learn from one of his Letters to Atticus, to prepare, at
his leisure, a variety of introduct.ions, that he might have them in
readiness for any work which he should afterwards write. In consequence of this singular mode of proceeding, he happened unwittingly to
" employ the same introduction in two different works. · A,tticusinformed
' Will of the fact, and Cicer9, e.clmowledgingthe, w11t11,k~, sent him a new
' • 'jlxordium.
·
• ·
·
·.· · ·
'

II. In the second place, modesty is essential in an introduction ;
it must not promise too much, and thus raise expectations in the
re'a der which may be disappointed:
·
:< ·'. -. 1J 1, ·• , ·: ;. ·. i
1

IIL An introduction is not the place for vehemence and 'passion.'
\The minds of the readers must be gradually prepared before the 'writer
· ~an venture on strong and animated outbursts. ' .A.;· ~xception, ' how' e.ver, may be made when the subject is of . such a nature that the
, ,.
yery mention of it naturally a.wakens pe.s8ionate emotion. • '·' l • · ~ .. ·' :·
, · , IV. Introductions, moreover,· should' not · anticipate any material
yart of the subject. If topics or arguments afterwards to be' enle..rged
~po.n a.re hinted at or partially discussed in the introd~ction, they
.~q.s.e~ when subsequently brought forwarc}, the. grace 9f novelty~ and
·
· thereby , a great portion of·their effect.
'

" V. Lastly, the introduction should be acconunodated,, both in length

t1:>A character, to the discourse that is to follow: in length, as

~othing

can be more absurd than to erect an immense vestibule befo);'.e a dimin~
~~~i.ve building; and in character, as it is no less . absurd .to overc~arie
)th
superb ornaments th.e portico of a plain,
d,';Velling 7h~~!!.e, : or_ ~o
..
.
... t • ) .... ')
make the entrance to a monument as gay as that to an arbor. ,'. , f, •

1

-:'\A~

.

'

1

.

I'

§ 464. The Division is that part ()f a d. iscou~s.e. ~n ;which

~~· wdter makes known to his readers th~ metl;iod ,to be pur~
&!\~d,

and the heads he intf)nds to take,. in ~reating .l:i.is subject. ·
are many cases in which the division is u11necessa.r y.;
~m.~, in which its introduction would even b.e improyer: · l!-B~
(or instance, when only a single argument is to be used. ·
~ere

~·

i>osed? · · W h_at was Cicero's practice? Into what difficulty did It once. lead him?
the second place, what Is essential in an Introduction? Thirdly, for what is an Intro·
action not the pince? What exception Is made? What Is the effect of. antlclp~tlng
ihe' Introduction any material part or the subject f · Laatly, to what 1hould the Intro, Ion be accommodated? How is this Illustrated?
• '
' • ... :, •··" '' · .... I ·
'S4M. What la the division? In what composltlon1 . Is It moat frequently used?

389

ARGUMENTATIVE DISCOURSES.

ARGUMEN'l'ATIVE DISCOURSES.

388

A formal division is used more frequently in the ser~on than in any •.
. . f com osition. but it has been questioned by many
~~:~~:~~~=sla;ing do~vn of h~ads, as it is called, does n?t l~ssen.' rather
th
dd to the effect. The Archbishop of Cam bray, ~n his Dmlog~e~
a~l: uen:e strongly condemns it: observing that it Is a mode~n m·
on t" q whi:h took its rise only when metaphysics began to be rnt~o­
ven ido~, t
hi·ng. that it renders o. sermon stiff and destroys Its
'
h
h h d
duce mo preac
unit . and is fatal to oratorical effect. It is urged, on t e ot er a? '
y ' that o. formal division renders a sermon more clear by showmg
h owever,
h
d t d t one and the same
h0
11 the parts hang on each ot er o.n
en o
.
.
.
:"
d thus makes it more impressive and instructive. The head!!
pfom ' an
. moreover are of great assistance to the memory of a .
f the diso a sermon,
•
.h h
hearer; they enable him to keep ·pace wit t e progress o
,
course, and afforcl him resting-places :Whence he can reflect on what h~'.
been said, and look forward to what is to follow.
.
When the division is employed, care should be taken,
'~
·
·
h
tl
b·iect
is
divided
be
really
10
I. That the several parts 1?to w1uc
su J
..
distinct ; that is, that no one mclude another.
.
n. That the heads taken be those into which the subject
,,

t

i

easily and naturally resolved.
. ·.~
Ill That the several members of the division exhaust the subject. '.r
.
ul · l. t•
f heads to distract
IV. That there be no unnecessary m ti.I> ica ion o
'
. _., ,
and weary the reader.
.
1
y That a natural order be followed ; that is, that the s1mpl~~
point~ be first discussed, and afterwards the more difficult ones tha~ al~ie'.
founded on them. .
· '\ {
VI. That the terms in which the division is e~pressed be as CQ ,
cise as possible. That there be no circumlocut1on, no unnece~,~. .
words.

§ 465. The third division of a discourse is the St~teID;e~~
in which the facts connected with the subject are laid ~P~f·
This generally forms an important part of legal plead1~g .

The statement should be put forth in a clear and forc1~le
style. The writer must . state his facts in such a way a~~-

•

.. "'"·r.

What bas been questioned by many? What is the opinion of ~he ~rcbbishop of C.,
bray? What aclvantnges, on the other hand, does a formal d1 vis10n possess'·.:.~
9
the division Is employed, what six points should be attended to.
§ 465 Wlrnt is the third division of a discourse? What is the statement? . ot~
compositions does It form an important part Y Jn what style should it be 'W~~
How must the writer state his facts Y
.
.
·
I ~I

keep strictly within the bounds of truth, and yet to · present
them under the colors that are most favorable to his · cause;
,to place in the most striking light every .circumstance that is
to his advantage, and explain away, as fa:i; as possible, such as
make against him.
·: : :

§ 466. Tlie fourth division is the Reasoning; and on this
· every thing depends. It is here _:that the arguments ·are found
which are to induce conviction, and to prepare for which is the
: object of the parts already discussed. , . T~e' f9M!nii~g''sugge·s~
~ions should be regarded : - - ·
: :·. ·;; : · :..• :~.::·.i'l') !>~~ •: ): .-~' ·'
~ I. The writer .should select such arguments,,only . ~ pe:, ;f~~ls to be
•

•

•

•'

' • •' •

'

•'

~ (' • J..,. • "' ~·(\ ;: \ •• ,.

•.• •· • '

I

solid and convincing. He must not expect to ·impose ton the .w orld· by
,.mere arts oflanguage; but, placing· himself in the' situation:ofia'reader,
~hould think how he would be affected by the"..reasoning whi~:jl)1.~ pro;
~ses to use for the persuasion of others. ' . ··~-- ·:·.... ._,, ~·- '.:\.;:·" _; ;,'. '. ; ..
1

,·. II. When the arguments employed are strong and satisfactory;·the
more they are distinguished and treated apart ·from ~ach ·. other, the.
better; but; when they are weak or doubtful, it is exp.e dient rather to
' ~hrow them together, than to present each in a clear and separate light.
\ ..
• 1 III. "When we have a number of arguments of different degrees of
strength, it is best to begin and close with the stronger, .placing . the .
·. weaker in the middle, where they will naturally .attract least attention. .
-~·
: ";.IV. Arguments should not be multiplied too much, or ·extended too '
Besides burdening the memory, and lessening the effect 'of llidi-·:.
Jidual points, such diffuseness re~ders a cause s~spe~ted. ;'.;;·;;,:_:.tc ~ :. , ::'

far.

The fifth division is the : Appeal .to ; ~he.~lleel_ings.~ ·
should be short and to the point. , All appearan<?e· of art·
~~~Id be strictly avoided. To m·ove · his ·.rea~e~~; · t~~- writer~
must
-.
\-:. .be moved himself.

} §467.

~pis

'(:.

• ,,§ 468. The last division of a discourse is the Pero_ration; .
:

I 466.

····'"

·'-

'

What Is the fourth divieion f Of wl1at does it consist Y What" argument8 ·.
When the nrgnments employed are strong and Mtisfactory, ' how· '
auld they be treated? How, when they are weak or doubtfnl f . When we have a 't
ber of arguments of different degrees of strength, bow is It best to arrange: ihem f '
~t Is the effect of multiplying arguments too much, or extending them too ·far Y '·
· S.•~r; _What Is the fifth ell vision of a discourse? What should be the charaeter of an
' · to the feelings?
· ' ' · ·
S,~S. What is the Inst division of a d!Mcoursef In It, what" does the writer dof

~!d be selected?

I

390

~gt

ARGUMENT ATiVE DISCOURSES.

ARGUMENTATIVE DISCOURSES.

in which the writer sums up all that has been said, and e*·
deavors to leave a forcible impression on the reader's mind. ··
§ 469.As examples, two argumentative discourses are present~
ed below, supporting, respectively, the affirmative and the nega·
tive of the question, "Does virtue always ensure happiness?"
[Affirmative.]

inlnde that this term Is ap!Jlled. Now, fbat friendship ·1s a eonrce ol'the tiurest happtness none wlll deny j and for the blessings resulting from it we are ihus ' tndebteil, ·111 a
great measure, to virtue.
.
Ilut there is another important consideration that we should not forget. Few men
arc so constituted as to be Insensible to the approbation or censure of the world. To
inany, its smile ls alone sufficient to constitute lisppiness; its frown Is a source or
misery. Now, this smile is gained In no way so readily as by.a course of Integrity.'
How bas the approbation of all ages reward~d the vlrtile of Scipio I That great
warrior bad taken a beautiful captive, with whose charms he was greatly enamored i
but, finding that she was betrothed to a young nobleman of her own cowitry, be, without hesitation, generously delivered her 'up to his · rlv1n: ' ':this .one
of the noble
, Roman bas, more than all his conquests, shed au Imperishable lustre around bis
' character.
·
Nor bas the approbation of society been limited to ·the virtuous a~tions of indivld1 uals.
The loveliness of virtue generally bas been the constant topic of all morali.sbi,
.. ancient and mode~n. Plato remarks, that, if virtue were to llBSUIDe human form, it
f. would command the admiration of the whole world. A..late writer b~ said, "In
region, every clime, the homage paid to virtue ls the same. ID. no . one .sentlment,were
ever mankind more generally agreed."
.
.
. : ." c 't »:-." , . . "
<-i If, therefore, virtue is in itself so lovely; if it ls accompanied , with an inward
~ peace and satisfaction ; if it Is a source of temporal ad vantages ;· if it is , tbe .spring froll1
· which flow the blessings of friendship; if it wins for those who practise tt the appro• · ... batlon of the world ;-it must be admitted by every candid enquirer that itie propa!itlon
; with which we stnrted ls true, that virtue always eusures happiness. Though it must
· be acknowledged that it is frequently attended with crosses in this life, and that some.t thing of self·denlal ls implied In its very idea; yet the wise will admit the truth of the
.:. poet's word!!, will consider

acl

VIRTUE ALWAYS ENSURES IIAPPINESS.

Selfishness exerts a powerful Influence over tbe actions of all men. Even when w6
least suspect that we are com plying with 1111 dictates, If we closely examine the springs
of our action, we shall find that we are instinctively following the promptings ot our
own tastes and propensities. We can hence perceive the wisdom of Providence, who;
to win men to virtue even against their own will, has annexed to It an invariable reward. Happiness He has made depend solely and exclusively on uprightness; and
this proposition it is tho object of the present discourse to establish.
It would seem ns if this were so palpable a truth that it would require no demon." , ,
stration, but would be at once universally admitted. Yet there are some, who, despite
the teachings of moralists of every age, deeming themselves wiser in their generation
tbnn the children of light, have thought proper to deny it, and thus have sought to over· .
throw the strongest bulwark on which society depends. Whatever the scoffer may say,
however confidently be may point to individual in-stances as contradicting the position
h ere maintained it becomes the candid examiner not to be driven from the truth by rid!··
cule or sophisir;; oot to let sneers prevail ngainst the weight of testimony that ancient
sages, ns well as m.odern philosophere, oove borne on this subject; and, finally, to con}
sider with care before he ventures to disbelieve a doctrine which Is at the foundation or
all morality.
-~
· In the first place, It ls nece5sary to define virtue ; :we regard it as consiating In th?f. .
discharge of our duty to God and our neighbor, despite all temptations to the contrary,
Our first argument Is, that n virtuous course is so consonant to the light of ronson, ls so
agreeable to our moral sentiments, an<l produces such peaco of mind, that it may be said.
to entry its reward along with it, even if unattended by that recompense which it ought,,c·
to receive from the world.
This is evident in the very nnture of things. The all-wise and beneficent Author.of
nature has ~o fram ed the so ul of man that he can not blit approve of virtue, whether~
himself or In others, and bas annexed to the practice of It an Inward satisfaction 'tbit•
surpasses all the blessings of earth. The goods of fortune, wealth, rank, external proe",
p erity,-all these may take to tliemselves wings and fly away; but of the happln~
which springs from tho consciousness of a proper discharge of duty, no thief can rdb 1~
no stroke of adversity can deprl ve us.
"114
But the reward of virtue ls not always confined to this internal pence and bapplnea·
As, In the works of nature and art, whatever Is really beautiful Is generally usetn~·jo..
in the mornl world, whatever Is truly virtnous, is at the same time so ben.eficial
society that it seldom goes without some external recompense. Men know that .l!>•T,
can depend on one who acts from principle; they have confidence in his wordS'iidl
representations, nnd give him the preference in all matters of business. Thus, ev_~~ ,;
n worldly point of view, the virtuous man bas an ad vantage over those of loose prlnol.PMI.
or immoral lives.
'. · -t{·l .
In the third plnce, nothing Is so liable to create in our behalf firm and lasting trt~
ship on the part of the good, as virtuous practices. Tho nssocintions of the wicked
undeserving of the name of friendship; it is only to tho elevated fellowship of uprtpt

!'O '

a

evecy

"The broRdest mirth unfeeling folly wear11,
Less pleasing far tho.n virtue's very tears."

Our own experience, no less than the arguments here adduced, muiit cOnvin~ us that
"Guilt ever carries his Own 1eourge along; ·
V irtue, Aer ow1' reward ".

[Negative.]
,._, ,

VIRTUE DOES NOT ALWAYS ENSURE HAPPINESS.

· ·In contemplating the maxims of the ancient : Stole pliilosophers, we cannot help
; being struck with the soundness of their principles, and the stern requirements of their
moral code. Yet there is one of their propositions to which we cannot yield assent;
·and that is, that temporal happiness ls the necessary consequence of virtue. So important a questlon,-one on which so many issues, and those the practical issues or life,
.
,
,;
"'
are staked,-is well worthy of discussion.
•~. It Is well understood that, in treating this question, prejudices will have tO be com·
bate'd ilnd removed: for tbere are many who, without having looked closely ·at-ihe 'snb400t, have followed the ancient Stoics; and, because it is a convenient creed to·teach and
~.e w,hlch it is .believed will lead to the practice of ~lrtue, have sought to' lnc~l~te' this
:a3l&h principle. A regard for virtue should . be instilled by higher arguin~nt8 thart
'tilts; ·;virtue should be practised because it ls a duty,-because it is ,the :command .or
.

.

.•

~

i .

- -· ~.

1

.

'1n' the first place, we lay down the proposition that there is no necess~ry ~dn ~~/;tl~rt
l!etween virtue and happiness. To the aucieuts, who knew not that the soul wae im·
it may have seemed necessary that the patient self-denial, the forgiving 'cliarity,
. d the act! ve benevolence, of virtue, should be rewarded 1n this world ; · but we, :who

tilonaI;

-

'392

live In the light of a revelation ftom on high, know thnt there Is a herenfl:er, nnd · look ~
to that Infinite cycle of ages, not to this finite state of probation, for the rewnrd to wblc~ -. i
virtue may be entitled.
·
Again: no one can deny that It Is an !mportnnt principle of our religious system z
that the virtuous and the pious should be put lo the trial, and that afllict!ons anil crosses
are sent by the Omnipotent to test the stability of th eir faith anil practice. As_ Job, a
man tbnt ·•feared God anil eschewed evil," was tried by visitations from on l11gh; so
bav~ the good of all nges been obliged to submit to simllnr prnbation. Viewed lu this :
)laht, It would seem that trial is peculiarly, in this world, the lot of \'lrtue; tho neces- ·
s:ry prepnratlon to be made, In time, by those who would enjoy a blissful eternity. · . 1 '
But those who, with the poet, believe that
"Virtue alone ia happiness below ",

po1nt us to the pleasures ol' a quiet conscience, and the peace which a knowledge of the '
performance of duty brings with it. It Is admitted that these are grent blessings, and .
that without them happiness cannot exist; but are they alone sufficient to make a man ·.
happy? Can the quietest conscience in the universe remove tho pangs of hunger, alleviate the sufferings of the sick, or comfort the mourner? The experience of the world:··
will answer, no. There are many Jobs; there are many good, but unhappy, men. ·
To go a step further; to say what ls necessary to ensure happiness; to point to re- ,
!lgion, tho hope of thnt which ls to come, as au anchor to which tho soul may cling • "ct~
"amid a saa of troubl e,"-would be foreign to the question. In view of tho argumenta '
we have advanced, in view of the striking argument furnished by our own experience~ , ,
we think we may fairly conclude that
'' Virtue alone is" not "happiness below"·

EXERCISE.

Write an argumentative discourse supporting either the ::;
affirmative or the negative of the question, "Do public amuser11 \ ·
ments exercise a beneficial influence on society ? "

---·-. LESSON CIV.
ORATIONS.-SERMON-WRITING.

§ 470. AN Oration is a discourse intended for public. '.~~l ·
livery, and written in a style adapted thereto. At the pres~~
day, this term is generally applied to discourses approp~~~
to some important or solemn occasion; such as a funeral, an al!D .
versary, a college commencement, &c. It is a speech of ;.~
elevated character, and differs in this respect from the hara~g~
§ 470. What Is an oration? To what la the term generally applied nt the P~ ..
day? How does the oration differ from the harangue and the addres.s?
. · ·~.;

393 .

ORATIONS.

ORATIONS.

"'--..i

and the address: the former of which implies a noisy and declamatory manner in the speaker; the latter, a less formal and
stately style than characterizes the · oration.
§ 4 71. The ancients recog~ized 'th,ree ~lasses of . oratio~s ";
the demonstrative, the deliberative, · and the "judicial. ' The
.scope of the first was to praise 'or to cetlsure i : ~hat' of the ~ec,
,°' ond, to advise or to persuade; ~ that of the third, to·· accuse or
;. to defend. The chief subjects of dellli:>n.s~i:ativ~ · ~l~quence, for
. ~: instance, were panegyrics: invectives, gratulatory~· and .funeral
· :orations; deliberative eloque~ce . 'Yas · disp}~i~4'.~ ~~~r~~~~ri :~ t~~
- ~ senate-house and assembly of the people ; :whil!3 ;-j~dic1al:elo~ .
~'. quence was confined to the courts of law.
· ; .c · ::1 .,5- ; ,0r;; '. · :;,! !,, •
. ,
In modern times, also, a three-fold di~ision has been adopted, though
.,,. ,, one different from that just described. · Orations are now; distinguish"';' 'ed as,
. . :.,. c' .. , . , , .. 1.' : ·.·- ~:> :·. \· ··
i ;. ' I. Speeches to be delivered in deliberative public

.ass~'mblies; ~ :ht

· Congress, at popular meetings, &c.
II. Speeches at the bar.
.-:.. III. Sermons, or discourses to be delivered from the pulpit.

~':}~;,. § 472. The style of an oration should be elevated and for~
·. ~ible. It should not lack ornament; and whatever embellish~
,," ~en ts are introduced must be of the most exalted cha~acter: ·
ip'. ;. .An argumentative discourse, written in the style just d~scribed, 'a nd
. ~tended for delivery in public, becomes . an oration -~ :.,To :..the . latte~,
':'.therefore, the principles laid down for ·such discourses i~- th~ ' iast. le~son
are equally applicable. The same formar divisions ~ay b· ~ 'adopted,
1
"' either in whole or in part, as occasion JAay require.' '' '''. ' .'. i ~- . ~;;ri"::•rt •• ...• '. "1~':
:
_,, ... ,·
A

..

•

.

:

• • .• •

··· -

t''•' ' <'l!l-

Sermons constitute the most importa~t class "or'~ra~
tions. For the benefit of those who desire brief.and practical
f'ij~~~ct1ons for the preparation of such discourses, we condense
the_'following remarks from Hannam's valuable ."Pulpit':Asistant
'·' : ·
· ·· ·
~;,.

<_ru. § 473.

,,

~

•

••

' '.

r

r · .;;
\ "'

' •

' :; •,::

',

i- ,

; .::.'

• .

. • ',

' ."--:

.:

~•I!, . · ··~· ··~'.r

§ 411. How many classes or orations did the ancients rer.ognlze? Na~~ the~,· and
it&te what was the scope of each. ln modern times, what division hll8 been 'adopted f .
'- • § 4T2. What should be the style of an oration? What should be the character
jlt,thQ ·ornaments introduced? What divisions may be adopted In the preparation
':Gt orations f
'i .. ·1 .- . •
\

17'1!

..
394

SERMON· WRITING.
muet be found by deliberate thought, with the illd "o t good .commen:tar1e8. The eon'~
nect1on often contributes much to the elucldaflon or the te:tt; and, in tbLS caee; should
always be alluded ~o I~ the dlecours8: The beginning' of the !Sennon seems to 00 the
best place for treatrng it; It often affords good .material for ah introduction.
, . .·

PRACTICAL HINTS ON SERMON·WRITING.
Ohoic~ of Tero($.
1. Never choose such texts as have not complete sense; for only Impertinent
aud foolish people will attempt to preach from one or two words, which ~ignify
nothing.
·
2. Not only words which have a complete sense or themselves must be taken, but
they must also Include the complflte sense of the writer; for It Is his language. and sen·
tlments that you aim to explain. For example, If you take these words of 2 Cor. i., 3,
"Blessed be God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the
God of all comfort," and stop here, you will have complete sense; but It Is not the Apos·
tie's sense. If you go further, and add "who comforteth us in all our tribulation", it
will not then be the complete sense of St. Paul, nor will his meaning be wholly taken
la, nnless you go to the end of the fourth verse. When the complete sense of the
sncred writer is taken, you may stop; for there are few texts In Scripture which do not
• aft'ord matter sufficient for a sermon, and It is 88 Inconvenient to take too much text
.
as too llttlo; both extremes must be avoided.

n1tvisiori. .,

'Four or five heads are generally sufficient.; a gre~ter
the hearer.
. . ·

There are two sorts of divisions whfch we
make; the first, which is
. ,the most common, Is the division of the text into its parts; the ' otber is a division of
the rllscourse, or sermon itself.
.
. ., . . . ,, ., , ,
The division of the sermon itself Is proper in the foll~wlng cases:-;- · ;
.
1.. When a prophecy of the Old Testament is handled; for, generally, the nndcrsta~drng of these j)rophecles depends on many general considerations, which, by expos.ng and refuting false senses, open a way to the true explication. , ,., . ·":· ··
.
.
2. · When a text is connected ~Ith a disputed point,· th.e understanding of which mn;t
depend on the state
the quest10n, and the arguments, that hav!l been advanced. · ·AJ1
. th_ese lights are previously nece-.<sary, and they can be given only by general consider.:
at~ons. For example, Rom. Iii., 28,-" We conclude that a man Is justified by faith
without the deeds of the law." Somo general considerations must precede wblCh ·clear
up the stato of the question between St. Paul a.n d the Jews, touching ·iustlficatlon
th'
which mark the hypothesis of the Jews upon that subiect, and *hlcb di
tru
· I I th t
p
, .
.
.
soover . e
e prrnc P e a 8 t. aul would establish ; so that, in the end the text ma b 1 1
.Understood.
·
•
·
Y e c ear Y

?t

.

By thi~ is meant the relation of tbe text to the foregoing or following verse&~:

to

Ill~Y ~r~~~ly

General Stt(l(lestions.
1. A sermon should clearly explain a text; that Is, should place things before the
people's eyes In such a way tbnt . they may be understood without dltllculty. Bishop
Burnett says, "a preacher is to fancy himself as In tho room of the most unlear~ed
man in the whole parish, and must therefore put such parts of his discourses as he
would have all understand in so plain a form .of words that it may not be beyond th& . "
meanest of them. This be wlll certainly stucly to do if his desire be to edify them,
rather than to make them admire himself as a learned nnd high spoken man."
2. A sermon must give the entire sen~e of the whole text, tQ ensure which, it must '
·.
be considered in every view. This rule condemns dry and barren explications, wherelu '
the preacher discovers neither study nor invention, and leaves unsaid a gr<'at number of ·
beautiful things with which his text might have furnished him. In matters of religion and ,
piety, not to edify much Is to destroy much ; and a sermon cold and poor, will do more
mischief in nn hour, thnn a hundred of the other kind cnn do good.
· ·;fr{ '.:
3. The preacher must be discreet, in opposition to those Impertinent people who
utter jests, comical comparisons, qnirks, and extravagances; sober, In opposition to th0se
:rash spirits who would curiously dive Into mysteries beyond the bounds of modes ..
chaste, In opposition to those bold and Imprudent geniuses who are not ashamed of Iii
Ing many things which beget unclean Ideas. The preacher must be simple and gra
Simple, speaking things of good natural sense, without metaphysical speculations; grav
because all sorts of vulgar and proverbial sayings ought to be avoided.
. .. ~/
4. The understanding must be Informed, but in a manner which affects the .ho
. .. ··c:J
either to comfort the hearers, or to excite them to acts of piety and repentance. .. ;~ l;i
5. Above nil things, avoid excess. There must not be too much genius; too .ml\.D
brilliant, sparkling, and shining, things. Over-abundant ornaments lead the bearer'
say, "The man preaches himself, alms to display bis genius, and is animated bi
spirit of the world rather than the Spirit of God."
·
6. A sermon must not be overcharged with doctrine, because the bea1'ers' me '
can not retain It all; and by aiming to keep all, they wlll lose all.
Reasoning must not be carried too far. Long trains of argument, compo~
number of propositions chained together, with principles and consequences· depe
on them, are al ways em barrnsslng to the auditor.
' "i
C'o11nection.

. . ..
riun;i~·~r .are .embarrMS!ng

3. In a conclusion drawn from a long preceding discourse· as, for ex~mpl R
L
~
b I
. t"fi I b
'
e, om. v.,
ere ore, e ng JUS I e< y faith, we have peace with God through our Lord J
~~Th d"
'
esus

"Th

e isc.ourse must be divided Into two parts: the first consisting of some
,general co~slderat10Il8 on the doctrine of justification, which St. Paul establishes in
the precedmg chapters; and the second, of his conclµslon, that, being thus justified
.
,
'
1, .;We have pence with God, &c.
from the Old · p
14. In the case of texts quoted ·In the New Testament
.
. • rove by gen.era ?on~lderatlons that the text is properly produced, and . then proceed . clea:rly ~ Its
exphc11t10~. Of this kind ar~ Hebrews i., 5, 6, "I will be to :\!Im a Father,,; &c. ••One
Jn a certam pince testified, &c., ii., 6. "Whe.refor~ 88 the Holy Ghost ,saith,.'; , &
~L, !-.
. .
, .:." . , , ." ." . ,. , c.,
, ,5. In this cl~ must be placed divisions into diffel'ent viewS: The~ "t '' ~· ; ,
~,rly, are not dlvlsl~ns of a text Into its parts; but .r~ther, ditferen~ ~w4c~t~::~. :;~~~
~e made of the same texts ~o dlvcm subjects. : '!'ypicapexts f!hould ,be dlviq'.id thus;
d a great nun;ber of pa..<sages in th~, P~ms, which ,re~te ,n?t ,onl,r .to Dayid, hut &iso
J~~ns Christ. _such shoulcl be cons_1dered first Jiteraµy, ~ they 1elate' to David. -~nd
.en .Ill the mystical sense, 88 they refer to the Lord Jesus.'
· · · · · ' ' · ' .• '
There are also typical passages, which, besldC!I th.e lr Ii.~ra.l 1illiie(,",'11.a~e flg~r~ti;~
eanlngs, relating not only to Jesus Christ, .but also to the church ln gene.rs!, · d
1
yery believer In particular. For example, Dan. Ix., 1, ," O Lord, rlgbteousnese bei:get:
.nto .th1le, but unto. us confu~lon of faces as at this day," must not be divided into ·parts,
ut cons.ldered In d1tferent.v1.ews: 1. In regard to all men Jn general. 2...fo regard to
, .e Jewish ~~urch In.. Dame! s time. 3. In regard to ourselves at the present day:·,· So,
.IH, Heb. In., 1, S, To-day if ye will hear his voice," which is taken . from Psalm
C?V:• cannot be better divided than by referring it, 1._To David's ~m8: ' 2~ :r'o St..Pai>l's,.
.j To our own.
·
·
· ' ·'
· 1' 11'.'

~. As to the dlvisl~n of the text Itself, sometimes the order of th~ ~ord~· i~ s~.'cl~'a,r; ~d

ural, that no division Is necessary; we need only follow the order in question: ..· As,
r example, Eph. I., 3, "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Cbrist,,wbo

396

•

'·

...

SERMON•WRITING.

hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings In henvenly plnces in Christ." Here tba .
words divide themselves, and to explitln thnm we ncerl only follo\V th em. A grateful
acknowledgment, "Blessed bo God". Tho title unrler which the Apostle blesses
God, "The Father of our Lord Jesus Christ". The reason for which he blesses him,
because "he hath blessed us "· The plenitude of this blessing, "with all blessings".
The nature or kind signified by the term spilritual. The place where he hath blessed
us, "In heavenly places "• In whom he hath blessed us, "In Christ"•
Most texts, however, ought to be formally divided ; for which purpose we must regard chiefly the order of natnre: put that division which naturally precerles, in the first
place, and let the rest follow in Its proper order.
There are two natural orders: one natural in regard to subjects themselves· th;
other natural in regard to us. Though in general you mny follow which of th~ two
you pleMe, yet there are some texts that determine tho division; as Phil. ii., 13.
"It Is God which worketh effectually In you both to will ·and to t!o of his good
pleMnre." There are, It Is plain, three things to be discussed ; the action of God'&
grace upon men, "God worketh effectually in you''; the effect of this grace "to
will and to do"; and the spring or source of the action, according to "his 'good
pie:u;ure ~'. I think the division would not bo proper, If ·we wero to treat, 1. Of
Gods good pleMure; 2. Of his grace; nnd 3. Of the will nnd works of men.
. A_bove all things, ln divisions, avoid introducing nny thing in tho first part which
imphes 11 knowledge of the second, or which obliges you to treat of the second to
make the firnt understood; otherwise you will be obliged to mnko mnny tedious repetitions. Endeavor to scparato your parts from each other as well M you can.
When they are very closely connected, place the most detached first, and make that
serve for a foundation to the explication of the second, and tho second to the third;
so that, at the conclusion, the hearer may at a glance perceive, as It were, a perfect
body, a well-finished building. One of the greatest merits of a sermon Is harmony
In its component parts; that the first lend naturally to the second, uie second to the
third, &c.; that what goes before excite a desire for what Is to follow.
·when, In a text, there arc several terms which need a particular explanation, and
which can not be explained without confusion, or without dividing the text into too
many parts, then do not divide the text at nil, but divide the discourse Into two or thrco
parts. First explain the terms, and th en proceed to tho subject Itself.
There are many texts, in discussing which it Is not necessary to treat of either Bubject or attribute; but all the discu~sion turns on words that convey no meaning Independently of other terms, and which are called In logic syncategoremat-ica. For
example, John iii., 16, "God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that
whosoever bclieveth in him, should not perish, but have everlasting life." The categorical proposition Is, God loved the world; yet, it is necessary neith er to Insist much
upon the term God, nor to speak in a common-place way of the divine love. The text
should be divided into two parts: first, tbe gift which God in his Jove hath made of hla
Son; secondly, the end for which this g1ft was bestowed, "that whosoever belleveth in
him should not perish, but have everlasting life ".
There are texts of reasoning which nre composed of.an objection and nu answer.
These are naturally div.i ded into the objection and the solution. As, Romans vi., 1, 2,
"What shall we say then, " &c_
•
'There are some texts of re!\Sonlng which are extremely difficult to divide, becauso
they cannot be extended Into many propositions without confusion. As, John iv.. 10,
"If thou knewest the gift of God," &c. Here we may take two heads: the first including the general proposition contained in the wonls; the second, the particular
application of thcso to the Samaritan woman.
There are some texts which imply many important truths without expressing

SERMON-WRITING.

397

them. ThMe ehould be alluded to and enlarged upon. In such eMe&, the text
may be cllvlcled Into two par~; one referring to what is Implied, and the other to
what Is expressed.
SubdlvHons al~o should be made, for they are of great assistance to the writer;
they need not, however, be mentioned In the discourse, for there Is a risk of overburdening the hearer·s memory.

Methods of Discussion.
These are four In number. According to the nature of the subject, one or more may
be employed. Clear subjects must be discussed by observation · or continued application; dU!lcult and Important ones, by explication.
ExrLICATIO:<.-Thls consists In explaining the terms used, or the subject, or both.
There are two sorts of cxplicntlons: the one, simple and plain, needs only to be propose<!, nnrl agreeably elucldntcd; the other must be confirmed, if i,t speak of fact, by
proofs of fact; If of right, hy proofs of right; if of both, by proofs of both. A great and
important subject, consisting of many branches, may be reduced to a certain number
of propositions or questions, and these may be discussed one after the other.
I. Explication of Terms.-The difficulties of these arise from three causes; either
the terms do not Eecm to make any sense; or they are equivocal, forming different
senses; or the sense they seem to make at first appears perplexed·, Improper, or contradictory; or the meaning, though clear, may be controverted, and is exposed to cavil.
First propose the dlfiiculty: then solve It as briefly M possible.
_
What wo have to explain in a text consists of one or. more simple terms; of ways
of speaking peculinr to Scripture; or of particles called Byncategor·ematfoa.
1. Simple terms are the divine attributes, goodness, &c., man's virtu05 or vices,
faith, hope, &c. These are either literal or flgurative; if figurative, give the meaning
of the figure, aud, without stopping long, pass on to the thing itsel£ Some simple
terms should be explained only so far as they bear on the meaning of the .sacred
author. Sometimes tbe simple terms in a text must be discussed at length, in order
to give a clear and full view of the subject.
2. Expressions peculiar to Scripture deserve a particular explanation, becau.s e .they
. are rich in meaning; such M, "to be in Christ," "come after Christ," &c_
3. Particles called Byncategorematica (such M none, some, all, now, when, &c.),
which augment, or limit the mean1ng of the proposition, should be carefully examined;
for often the whole explication depends upon .them.
2. Explication of the Subject. ~lf the difficulty arise from erro1"3, or false sense~, refute and remove them ; then establish the truth. If from the intricacy of the subject
itself, do nut propose difficulties, and raioo objections, but enter immediately into the
explication of the matter, and take care to arrange your ideM well.
In nil cnses, Illustrate · by reMons, examples, comparisons of the subject; their relations, conformities, or differences. You may do it by consequences; by the person, his
state, &c., who proposes the subject; or the persons to whom It Is proposed; by circumstances, time, pince, &c.
OnsERVATION.-Tbls method ls best for clear and historical pMsnges. Some
tex!a require both explication and observation. Sometimes an observation may be
made by way of explication. Observations, for the most part, ought to be theological;
hi storical, philosophical, or crltlcnl, very seldom. They must not be proposed In a
scholastic style, or common-place form; but In an easy, familiar, manner; '·.
·
Co,.TINU AL APPJ.ICATION.-Thls method mny be entirely free from e.xplanations and
observations; it i8 appropriate to texts exhorting to holiness and repentance.
PROPOSITION.-Texts may be reduced to two propositions at least., and three or

-

398

four at most, having a mutual dependenco and connection. This method opeu~ the
most extens\ye field for discussion. In the former modes of di scussion you are re·
strained to your text but hero yo ur subject is the matter contained lu your propo·
sitlon.
'lh e w~y of explication Is most proper to givt! the meaning of Scripture: this, of sys·
t em,atic divinity; and it has this adYantage, it will equally sorvo either theory or
practice.
Peroration, or Conclu&ion.
This ought to be short, lively, and animating; full of great o.nd bcantlful ftgnres;
aiming to move Christian o.tfectlons,-to conftrm our lovo of God, our gratitude, zeal,
repentance, self-condemnation, consolation, hope of felicity, courage, constancy In
afiliction, and steadiness In temptation. Let some ono or morn striking !dens, not men·
tloned In the dlscusslon, be reserved for this part, and applled with vigor.

II. The power of con6cienCB is an argument to convince us of tliis truth. "Every
one that findeth me shall slay me,'' Genesis Iv., 14, was the language of Cain; and similar
apprehensions are frequent In those who feel tho fury of an enraged conscience. .The
psalmist tells ns concerning those who Ray in their heart" There Is no God •',that" they
are In fear where no fear is." Psalms Jiii., 5. Their guilty minds invent terrorio, and thereby
confess a Deity, while they deny lt,-that there Is a sovereign Being who will punish.
Pashur, who wkkedly Insulted the prophet Jeremiah, bad this for his rewanl, "that
his name should he Magor-m!ssabib," !. e., "fear ronnd about". Jerl"rniah xx., 3, 4. Wh en
B elshazzar saw the handwriting, "his countenance was changed," Daniel v., 6. Tho
apostle who tells us that there Is a" law written In the hearts of men", adds, their "consciences nlso bear witness." Romans II., 15.
III. Vnil>ersal consent Is another argument. The notion of a God Is found among
nll nations ; It is tho langnngo of every country and region; the most abominable Idolatry argue" n Deity. Ali nations, though ever so barbarous and profligate, have confessed
some God.

ANALYSIS OF A SERMON.

a

I•

IV. }J};rtrao1·dinaryjiid(l11ients. When a just revenge follows abominable crimes,
especially when the judgment Is suited to the sin; when the eln Is made legible by the
lntllcted judgment. "The Lord is known by the judgment which be executeth."
P snlms Ix., 16. Herod Agrippa rccch·ed the fla.t tering applause of . the !J('.ople, and
thought himself a God; but was, by the judgment inflicted upon him, forced to confess
anot her. Acts xii., 21 - 23; Jurlgcs i., G, 7; Acts v., 1-1 0.
V. Accompli8hment of Prophecies. 'l'o foretell things that are future, as If they
alrendy ex isted or had existed long ago, mu st be the re$ult of a mind lnfl11ltely Intelligent. "Show the things that are to co mo hereafter." Isaiah xl!., 28. "I am God, declaring Lhe end from the beginning." lsuiah xl vi, 9, 10. Cyrus wa.• prophesied of, Isaiah
xHv., 28, nnd xlv., 1, long before he was born; Alexander's sight of Daniel's prophecy
concerning his victories, moved llim to spare Jerusalem. The four monarculeo were
plainly d~c!phered In Daniel, berore the fourth rose up. That power, which foretells
thh1gs beyond the "·it of man, and orders all causes to bring about those predictions,
must be an infinite anrl omniscient power.
What folly, th en, for any to shut their eyes, and stop their ears; to attribut.i those
things to blind chance, which nothing less than an Infinitely wise and powerful Bel.tig
. could effect I

The Exisfonce of God.

"The fool hath so.id la his heart, there Is no Goel." Psalms xiv., 1.
"The fool hath said,"-it is evident that none but a fool would have snld It.
The fool, a term in Scripture signifying a wicked man; one who hatb lost his wis•
·
dom, and right .apprehension of God; one dead In Ein.
"Said in his heart"; i. o., ho thinks, or he doubts, or h!' wishes. He dares nat openly
pnblish it, though he dates secretly think it; he dm1bts, he wishes, Rnd sometimes
hopes.
"Them Is no God."- no jn<lge, no one to govern, reward , or punish. Those who
deny the providence of God, do in effect deny his existence; they strip him of that w!s·
dom, goodness, mercy, nnd justice, which are the glory of the Deity.
The existence or God ls the foundation of all religion. Tho whole building totters, if
th e foundation be out. We must believe that he is, and that he is what he has de•
clared himself, before we can seek him, adore him, or love him.
·
It is, therefore, necessary we should know why we believ e, that our belief be founded
on undeniable evidence, nnd that we m11y give a better reason for hls existence, than ,
thnt we have heard our parents nncl te.nchers tell of it. It Is ns mnch ns to say, "There _
is no God," when we have no better atguments than those. Let us look at tho evidences
which should establish us In the truth.
f
I • .All nature shows the existence of its Maker. We cannot open our eyes but we
discover this truth shining through nil creatures. Tho whole universe bears the chill"~ ·
ter and stamp of a First Cause, Infinitely wise, infinitely powerful. L et us cast our eylill
on the earth which bears us, nnd ask, "Who laid the fonnrlation?" Job xxxvlll., 4.' ~
us look on that vast arch of skies that covers us, and Inquire, "Who bt1th th!lS stretched
It forth?" I sai11b xl., 21, 22. "Who Is ft also who bath fixed so many luminous bodlea
with so much order and regularity?" Job xxvl., 13. Every plant, evory 11tom, 118 well.u
every star, bears witness of n Deity. Who eYer saw statues, or pictures, but concluded there
hfld been a statuary and limn er? Who can behold garments, shi ps, or houses, and . not.
understand there was a weaver, a carpenter, nn 11rchitect? A man may as well dou~t
whether there be a sun, when be sees his beams gil<ling tho earth, as doubt wheth~.
there be n God, when hto sees his works. P salms xix., 1-6. The Atheist Is, therefo1"
a fool, because he denies that which every creature In his constitution asserts. Can,.~
behold the splder"s net, or the silk-worm's web, the bee's closets, or the ant's griin~
ries, without RCknowleclging a higher being than
creature, WhO bath planted . ~·
genius In them? Job xxxix. Prnlms civ., 24. All the stars in heaven and the d~t"oa
earth, oppose the Athel~t. Romans i., 19, 20.
' · · ~e

399

SERlllON·WRITING.

BERl\ION·WRITING.

Peroration, .or· (Jonclusion.

·, ·1

I. If God can be seen In creation, study the creatures; tho creatures are tbe heralds
or God's glory. "The glory of the Lord shall endure." Psalms clv., 81. The wprld Is
... a sacred temple; man Is introduced to contemplate It. As gl-nce. doeil not"destroy
'..tilte, so the book ofredemptlon does not blcit out the book of creation.'
. . . .
.

na-

or

·

.. . II. If It be a folly to deny
donbt the being of God, Is it not n folly also not to
: worship God when we acknowledge his existence? "To.fear' God; and keep his coin'. mandments, is the whole duty of man.,; We are not rea5onable If we are "not religloil&
~ Romans xii., l.
III. If it be a folly to deny the existence of God, will It not be our wisdom, since we
: ,acknowledge his being, often to think of lilm? It Is so.Id of the fool only, "God is not
'
· J. ~,.,.
1 ln all his thoughts." Psalms x., 4.
f-

k;

'

.

I

'

IV. If we believe the being of Go!I, let ns abhor practical atheism. • Men'1fpnll:ltlces
O:"aro·tbe best Indexes to their principles. "Let yonr light shine before men:;" .• .idatthe\1
··"V., 16.. '

.1

--

· ·-·-

--

- ~------.......

~01

VERSE.

order and mode , of expression, which are known as poetical licenses.
Examples of some of these follow : I. Violent inversions.
"Now storming fury rose,
.And clamor such ns l•eard i1t Heaven till now
lVas never."

IL Violent ellipses.
"While nil those souls [tha t] have ever felt the force
Of those enchanting passions, to my lyro
Should throng attentive."

PART V.

UL. The use of peculiar words, idioms, phrases, &c., not generally
found

P 0 E T I C .A. L

C 0 M P 0 S I 'l' I 0 N.

Ill

prose; as, morn, eve, o'er, sheen, passing rich. ·

IV. Connecting an ndjeetive with a different substantive from that
~~ich it really qualifies; as in the following lines, in which wide is
JOined to nature instead of bounds:"Throngh wldo naturo's bounds
Expatiate wUh glad step.''

V. Using a noun and a pronoun standing for it [in violation of a
syntactical rule] as subjects or objects of the same verb; as,

LESSON CV.

.. The boy--0h !

VER S E. -

QUA NT l TY • ..,.-- FEET. -

Jill~

Ir

here

WM ,,_

r"

T H. E S.

VL The use of or for eitlLer, and nor for n eitlicr.

§ 474.

speaking, those compositions only fall
under the head of poetry, into which the language of the
imagination largely enters ; which abound in mekiphors, simSTRICTLY

iles, pcrsouili.c~tiou s , and oth er rhctori c;il fig u re s.

Such

writings, even if they have the form of prose, must be regarded as poems ; while, on the other hand, prosaic matter,
even if put into the form in which poetry generally appears,
is still nothing more than prose. The distinction between
I
prose and poetry, therefore, has reference to the matter of
which they are respectively composed.
Poetry being the language of imagination and passion, we naturally
expect to find in it more figur es than in prose. These, h nYing been
already fully treated, need no further consideration here. As r egards
its form, poetry is generally characterized by deviations from the natural
§ 474. What compositions fall und er the head of poetry? To what docs the d istinction between prose and poet ry refer? What do we naturally expect to flrid In

"Whatl''er thy name, or Muse or Grnce."
"Nor enrth nor Heaven shall hear his prayer.''

VIT. The introduction of an aJv erb between to the sign of the infinitive, 1rn\l tlt e verb wit.It which it is connected· ~.

' "'

"To slou;ly trace the forest's shady scene.''

VIII. :Making intran.sitive verbs transitive; as,
"Still, In harmonious Intercourse, they lived
The rnral day, and talked the flowing heart."

IX. The use of foreign idioms; as,
"To some sho

(la V8

To search the story or eternal thought."

§ 4 75. V erse is the form in which poetry generally appears. It consists of language arrangccl into metrical lines,
called verses, of a length and rhythm determined by rules
poetry? Whnt is meant by poetical li censes? Enumcrnto the poetical licenses mentionE>d in tho text. nnd girn an example of each.
§ 4ill. What is verso? Of what does It generally con sist? What Is the cllfforenco

_ .............

---------------------~---=
~--

402

~·-----

QUANTiTY.

VERSE.

403

When it~is desired to indicate the quantity, the macron [-] is
placed over a long syllable, and the breve [ ,._...] over a short
one ; as, the man.

which usage has sanctioned. 'l'he distinction between prose
and verse is, therefore, a matter of form.
Verse is merely the dress which poetry generally assumes. The two
are entirely independent of each other: all poetry is not verse, as we
see in the case of Fenelon's T elemachus and Ossian's Poems; nor, on the
other hand, is all verse by any means poetry, as nine tenths of the
fugitive pieces given to the world under the latter name abundant.ly

In words of more than one syllable, accent, whether primary or
seco nd ary, constitutes length; syllables that are unaccented are short.
In the case of monosyllables, nouns, adj ectives, verbs, adverbs, and inte1jcctions, nrc for the most pnrt long; nrticles are always short; prepositions nnd conjunctions are generally short ; pronouns are long when
emplrnsizccl,- when not, short. This will appear from the following
lin es :-

show.

Versification is the art of making verses.
A V crse, as we have seen, is a metrical line of a length
and rhythm determined by rules which usage has s:1IlC•

Thil goddess heard, and biide tM MLI.sos·riilso
The golden trumpet Of ctiirnnl priHse:
From pole to polo the winds dlfl'il.so tho sound,
Tlliit fills tho circuit Of ti.Jo wudd iirouncl.

tioned.
A Hcmistich is half of a vetsc.
Rhyme is a similarity of sound in syllables which begin
differently but end alike. It is exemplified at the close of the
following lines : -

In Latin and Greek, each syllaple has a definite quantity, without
reference to accent. This is not the case in English. Our vowel sounds
have nothing to do with the length or shortness of syllables. Fat, in
which a has its flat or short sound, is ns likely to be accented, and
therefore lo;ig, in poetry, as fate, in which the sound of the vowel is
general ly called long.

"Self-lov e, the spring of motion, acts the soul;
· Reason's comparing buhnce rules the whole."

8177. A Foot is a uivision of a verse, consisting ·of two
or thre{) syllables.

A Distich, or couplet, consists of twp verses rhyming together; the lines just given are an cxan~plc.
A Triplet consists of three verses rhyming together ; as,

The dissyllabic feet are four in number, as follows:-

"Souls th~t can scarce ferment their mass of clay,So di:ossy, so divisible, are they,
AB would but sci·ve pure bodies for allay."

IAMBUS .._, -, remove.
TROOilEE - ....,, movrng.

SroNDEE, - _:., dark night.
PYnnmo, .._, .._,, hap-lpily. .

1'he trisyllabic feet are eight in number, as follows:-

A Stanza [often incorrectly called a verse] is a regular
division of a poem, co'n sisting of two or more lines, or verses. :
Stanzas are of every conceivable variety, their formation being :
regulated by the taste of the poet alone.
The stanzas of
the same poem, however, should be uniform.
§ 4 76. Syllables occurring in verse are d_istinguished. a~ .
long and short, according to the time occupied in uttermg _
them. A long syllable if1 equivalent to two short one.~,i
-;}

between verse and poetry? What Is verslficntlon? What Is a verse? What_I~~'
hemistich? What is rhyme? Wlu•t is a dlst!ch? Whnt Is n triplet? What Is a
stanza? What ls it often Incorrectly called? By what Is tho formation of the sta~ ,
·~r
r egulated? What Is saitl of the stauzns of the same poem?
§ 476. How nre syllables occnrrlng 111 verse dlst!ngulsh od ? On what Is this dLstln~

ANAPEST .._, .._, -, fotervene.
. _DACTYL - '-" '-", happrly.
. AMPHIBRACII .._, - ,._...'redundant.
.AMP.inMACER-'-"-, winding-sheet.

BAco1IIUs ,._... - -, the dark night. . :
ANTIBACCHIUS - - '-",eye-servant.
MoLOBSUS - - -, long dark night.:.
TrunnAcH .._, .._, .._,, insu-jperablll. " i<I

Of these twelve feet, the iambus, the trochee, the, anapest,·
and the dactyl, are oftenest used; and are capable, respective·
,..
• . · tlon founded? JI ow Is the quantity of a syllable Ind icated? In words of more than
; on e syllable, which syllables are long, and which short? In th e case of monoeyllable&:
· which of the pnrtR of speech are g1Jnerally Jong, and which nre short? What ls.the case
: 1!1 Latin and Greek, with respect to the quantlty of syllables? What relation subsists
: • In English between the quantity of syllables and the souncl of the vowels they con.'
'
• ' · ''! '
· taln? Illustrate this.
· .' § 477. What ls a foot? How many dlssyllabic feet aro there? Enumerate them,'
&tate of what syllabics they are r espectively composed, and give an example of each,'
• How many trisyllable feet are there? Enumerate them, state ot ~what syllables they
are composed, and give an example of eacb. Of tliese tweh·e foot, which are oftenest

I

I

404

METRES, OR MEASURES.

METRES, OR - MEASURES.

is a s~llabl.e over at the end, is called ltypercatalectic. When
there is ~either deficiency nor redundancy, a line is said to be

ly, without the ·assistance of the rest, of forming distinct orders of numbers. -They are, therefore, called primary feet j
and the measures of which they respectively form the chief
component part, are known as iambic, trochaic, an(Tpestic, and
dact yhr:. A line wliic;L cousists wholly of oue kind uf foot is
called pure: that is, a line containing nothing but iambi is
a pure iambic; one into which no foot but the trochee enters is a
pure trochaic. Verses not consisting exclusively of one kind
of foot are said to be mixed. Examples follow : 1. Pure I ambic. -The rul-\!ng pas-\sfon con-Jquers rea-\son still.
2. -Pure Trochaic.-Sister I spirit I come a-\ way.
3. Pure A napestic.-Fri5m the plains, I from the wood-pands and groves.
4. Pure D actylic.-Bird of the I wllderness.
1. Mixed I ambic.-No crime I was thine I illja-tted fair.
2. Mi xed Trochaic.-Tremblfog, I hoping, I lingi!rlng, I flyYng.
3. _,lfixed Anapestic.-Dear re-igfons of s1-Jiencc and shade.
4. J,fivd Dactylic.-Mid11ighl. :'is-jsist otir 111•1011.

acatalcct1c.

-

. Sc~n~ing is the process of dividing a line into the feet of
wl11cli it 1s cornposed.

§ 479. Examples of the different measures follow So
of the lines arc pure, and some are mixed. The fi .
1 :e
.
gures , "''
3 , & c., rcspectLVcly
denote monometer dimeter trimeter &
l l'mes mark some of the divisions
' in to feet
'
' · c.
er t'1ca
S cannmg
•
f,
.
IS p er orme.d by pronouncing the ,syllables whioh constitute
~he succ:ss1ve feet, and after each mentioning its name. Thus,
In scanmng the fifth line, the following words would be employed : " I-fonor, trochee ; and shame iambus · f.ro1n no ·
'!all·
.
'
)
bus; conrlz.., mm
bus; -tion rise iambus" Th l'
·
· d
· b·
'
·
e me Is mixc
iam le pc:1tam~tcr ~catalecti'c.
'l'he student is requested to
scan the followrng lin es, and name the measure of each : -

v

The remaining eight feet arc called secondary, and are occasionally admitted for the sake of preventing monotony and allowing the 1rnct freer scope.

IAMnro MEASURF.'l.

1. Lc1chi011

§ 178. By ~lctrc, or 1\Icasu rc, is meant the system accordina
to which verses arc formed. 'l'he metre dcpcrnls on the
a
character and number of tlic feet employed. Accorcli11g to
the character of the feet, metres, we have already seen, arc
disti11g11ishcil as ia1Hbi<" trochait:, anripcstie, and <hctylic.
Acconli11c; tu tho numlwr of the feet ., the varictic:-;
111otre
arc as follows : l\Ionomctcr, or a measure cum posed of unc foot;
Dimctcr. of two foet; Tri1 11c t cr, of three ; Tetrameter, of
four; Pentameter, of fin; IIcx:unctcr, of six; IIoplamctcr, __=~~
of seyen; Octometer, of eight.
A line at the end of which a syllable is wanting to com•.-,
plete the measure, is said to be catalrx tic. One in which ther~ .

ur

2. Thi\ rn:lin I I tho milin I
S. For us/ the su1n-/mers shine.
4_ First ~t:inds I thcl no-lblli Wi!oh -ll ngton
• IJ._ Ho~or I nn•l ,Jrnrnc I from no / condi -1 tion rise.
h, \\1th ills eharp-J>ninlc<l head he dcalcth clcndly wounds.
7, On-r tho A lban 111ou 11tnl11s high , tho light of morning broke
S. ()all .I 0 people clap your Jrnnds, nnd with -triurnphnnt voices Rln°g.
TW> CIL\ W

~ lEASUtE S .

1. Tl1rnlng.
2. F0nr sl1r-! rolmtlq rnl>.
3. DC:tr-Cr i friend s cil-1 t e~:; thee.
4. Honor's I but nn I empty I bubhle.
IJ. Chains of care to lower enrth cnthrnl me.
6. Up the dewy mountain , Heal th Is bounding lightlv.
1. H n.5ten, LorJ, to rescue mo, and set me safe from trouble.'
,
8. Once upon 11 midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary. ;,
ANAPES TIO MEASURES,

·1

used? Whnt nnme is given to these four? Why? What are the measures o! whlc~ '.
they respectively form the chief component part, called? What is meant by a pnr_. '
iambic line? What, by a mixed? Enumerate the secondary feet. For what PU!P!'
are they occasionally admitted ?
-· -• ~- -, -§ 478. What Is meant by metre, or measure? On what does t-110 metre dei)endt;;, •
According to the character of the feet, what nro tl10 varieties of metre? What, iloco~
~

405

,

...

· r:

. __ ,,

: '.' : ~· '! H

1. When h0 winks.
, i _;: ._, f-; ~_if
2. Let the stu-lpl<I M griive.
, ,
.
8. How thil night-/ingiiles wiir-jblil their !Oves.
"1 \ '
4. TM pliin-jtlfiil moist-jiire ilnciim-jbilred thil fiower.
log to the number of tho feet? What is meant by a catalectlo _line p -What, b a h •
~talect!o line? What, by an acataleotlo line? What ls scanntni ?-.- '-~ ',.-, ;.· •;..-; ~--

406

l\IETRES 1 OR ME.A.SURES.

STANZAS.·

the most difficult to write, and enters mto our poetical literature to such a limited extent that its capacities can hardly be
properly estimated. It is effective whenever a rapid movement is desirable, and has been used with success m humorous poetry.

DA<ITYLlO MEASURES.

1. Think oflt. .
2. Rash iincl iin-1 dutiful.
8. Brighter than I summer's green I carpeting.
4. Cold Is t!Jy heart, nncl ns frozen ns charity.
5. Lnncl of th e beautiful, Janel of the generous, hall to thee.
6. Land of the beautiful, Janel of the generous, hail to th ee heartily.
7. Out of the kingdom of Christ shall b e gathered by angels victorious.
CATALECTIO MEASURES.

Almost any of the above metres may be made a syllable shorter,
·and thus become catalcctic. The following will serve as specimens:1. Iamb. Tetram. Cat.-To-clay I no axe I ls ring-lln17
2. Tro. Tetram. Oat.-MothCr I cllirksiime, I m other I d read.
3. Dact. Tetram. Oat.-Hiirk, bow Cre·liitlon's cleiip I mii.slclil I chOriU.
4.. Tro. ·Tetram. Oat.-Henvlng, I ii.pwilrcl I to thll j ligbt.
HYPEROATALECTIO MEASURES.

§ 48 L It was observed in the last lesson that lines may
be combined into an infinite variety of st~nzas, according to the
poet's taste. To illmitrate all .of these with examples is impracticable j we can allude only to those that most frequently
occur.
The commonest stariza, perhaps, consists of four lines, of which
either the first and third, and the second and fourth, rhyme together
or, the first and second, and the third and fourth: as follows:" Tho curfow tolls the knell of parting <lny,
The lowin g h erd win els slowly o'er tho Jen;
Th e ploughman homeward plods hts weary way,
And leaves tho world to darkness and to mo. "-GRAY.

The addition of a syllable to any of the acntalcctic varieties of metre,
makes them hypercatalectic. Specimens follow. From the first t_wo
lines it will be seen, that, in iambic and trochaic metres, a verse endmg
with an odd syllable may be regarded either as a higher measure catalectic, or a lower measure hypercatalecLic.
1.
2.
3.
4.

Iamb. Tl'im. IIyp .-T'b-tl:.y t no ii:rn I is ring-I Ing.
Tro. Trim. Hyp.-Mothcr I cliirksomc, I mothilr I dread.
.A11ap. Tetram. Hyp.-'Tls thil chief I of Gloor.-1nl. hhncnts I for his dt1r-[ll11g.
I>act. lllon. IIyp.-I.m hi'r wllh I cdre.

" The A~syria n came clown like a 'volf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gknmlng In purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears wns like stars on the Rea,
When the bl ue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee."-BYRON.

This stanza, when composed of iambic tetrameters, rhyming either

consecutively or alternately, is known as Long Metre.

-----···-LESSON

407·

r

CVI.

"0 nll ye people, clap your li nml e,
Anrl wi th trlnmphnnt voices si ng ;
No force th e mighty power withstands
Of Goel, the nnlversal. ~lng."-PsAL.MB OF. D.&VID~

'o\'.iJ: When the ~rst and third lines are iambic tetrameters, and the s.e,c.., ~.n.d and fourth iambic trimeters, the rhyme bei~g alternate or oonfi~ed

STANZAS.-SONNETS.--,HEROIC VERSE.-BLANK VERSE.

"to the two last mentioned, this four-lined stanza. becomes Common
§ 480. IAMB.IC measure~ constitute the great b ody of our~-·~~. Metre.
.
·
h
·
f
t
f
"Over the Albnn mountains higb poetry, both from the fact th at t ey are easier O cons rue ion
The light of morning broke;
than' any other, ~nd because there is no emotion, which they
From nll the roofs of the Seven Hills
Curled the thin wreaths ofsmoke."-MAOAULAY,
.
are not adapted to express. T roeha10 measures are pecu7 ,
liarly appropriate to gay and tender sentiments j anapestic, ,to ·
When all the lines of this stanza are i'ambic trimeters except the third,
what is animated, forcible, or heart-stirring.

Dactylic_vers~ ·!s

§ 480. Of what measnres does the great body of our poetry consist? What re~
are. given for this? To what· are trochaic measures npproprl11te? To what, anap111tlll1
What 11 aald of daotyi!o verae?
·
··
.
. ; '; .. iJ:<

.,,

• , ... § 481. Describe the commonest stanza met with In poetry. Give examples oC it
O'om Gray and Byron. Describe long metre; common metre; short. metre. ', To: what
&f~ these three metres peculiar,ly adapted, ai1d for what. are tbey. tberefore"elQplo)'.ed?
'Iii whlit other way may long and common motre be written? ; What ' la the relJlllar.
ballad-menaure ot our languqe? How are stanzas of eliht and tw,elve 1111.N formed? .

408

409

STANZAS.

THE SONNET.

and that is tetrameter, the rhyme being the same as in the last case, w~
have Short Metre.

"To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell,
To slowly trace the forest's shady scene,
Where things that own not man's dominion dwell,
And mortal foot hath ne'er or· rarely been;
'fo climb the trackless mountain all unseen,
With the wild flock, that never needs a fold;
Alone, o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean;This is not solitude; 'tfa but to hold
Converse with naturo·s charms, and view her stores unrolled."

"The day Is past and gone;
The evening shades appear;
Ob I may we nil remember well
The night ofdeatb draws near."-Hnrn-nooK.

· These three metres are peculiarly adapted to slow and solemn music, and hence are generally employed, in preference· to others, in the
composition of psalms and hymns. By a comparison of the two last examples but one, with numbers 7 and 8 of the iambic measures presented
at the close of the preceding lesson, it will be seen that long metre is .
simply iambic octometer divided into two equal parts, while common
·metre is iambic heptameter divided after the first four feet. The latter
is the regular ballad-measure of our language. Octometer and heptameter, on account of thei1· length, are generally thus divided into two
sepm ~te lines.
The four-lined stanza doubled and trebled makes effective and common stanzas of eight and twelve lines respectively.
Six-lined stanzas are often used. Some of these have their first and .
second lines rhyme, their third and si:x:th, and their fourth ahd fifth. In
others, the first four lines rhyme as in the four-lined stanza, and the
last two rhyme with each other_; as, in the following : -

"'

§ 482. The Sonnet, though not a stanza, inasmuch as it is
a complete poem in itself, will next be considered ; its distinguishing features having reference, not so much to the platter
it contains, as to the form it assumes, and the. peculiar man· ..
ner in which Its lines rhyme.

Everett, iu his comprehensive and thorough "System of English
Versification", thus describes the Sonnet. "'TI1e Sonnet, like the Spenserian stanza, was borrowed from the Italian8' Petrarch is reckoned
the father of it. It is still more difficult of construction than the Spen~erian stanza; for, besides requiring a great number of rhymes, it de. '. mands a terseness of construction, and a point in the thought, which
.-:. ·t hat does not. In the Sonnet, no line should be admitted merely for
· ,ornament, and the versification should be faultless. Sonnets, like Spen. ·- serian stanzas, are somewhat affected; and this is to be attributed to
"Fr.ien<l nftcr friend <le parts;
_,,..._!llil'- the age in which they were introduced, when far,fetched thoughts and
Who hns not lost a frien<l?
-.ingenious ideas were more in vogue than simplit!ity and natural expresThere Is no union here of hearts,
That finds not here an end;
'. sion.-The Sonnet is subject to ~nore rigorous rules than any other speWere this frail world our final rest,
- cies of verse. It is composed of exactly fourteen lines, so constructed
Living or <lying, none were blcst.''-1\IoNTGOMl".l\Y.
-., that Uie first eight lines shall contain Lut two rhymes, and the last six
The most noted of all stanzas is the Spenserian, so called from the
'!\but two more. The most approved arrangement is that in · which the
author .of "The Faery Queen'', by whom it was borrowed from Italian' +
·first line is made to rhyme with the fourth, the fifth, and the eighth,-the
poetry. Though highly artificial, in the hands of a master it has a fine~ ·
· kecond rhyming with the third, the sixth, and the seventh." ' With reeffect. Its difficulty has deterred most of our later poets from attempt;
·spect to the last ·six lines, Hallam observes:-" By far the worst ·aring it in pieces of any length ; Thomson, however, in his " Castle of In··
- fangement and also the least common in Italy is that we usually adopt,
dolence ", Beattie in " The Minstrel'', and Byron in " Childe Harold",
- the fifth and sixth rhyming together, frequently after a full pause; so that
have used it with success. The following from Byron will serve as a
c sonnet ends with the point of an epigram. The best form, as the
specimen ; it will be seen that it consists of nine lines, of which eigM
--ltalid.ns hold, is the rhyming together of the three uneven and the three
are iambic pentameter, while the last is a hexameter:~~en lines; but, a.s our language is less rich in consonant terminations,

. . ,r-·
What are the different ways of rhyming In six-lined stanzas? Repeat n sb:-llnt>d sl.a!l&a
from Montgomery. W bat Is the most noted of all stanzas? Whence was It borro~ed
What Is Mid of Its effect? What has deterred our later poets from attempting it t i'}VllO
have used It with the best success? Ot bow many lines does It consist t Wbat·m•
eure are they t' Repeat one of Byron's Bpense_rlan stanzas.

l

,1

§ 482. What is said of the sonnet? From whom was it borrowed? What renders
ifdlfficult of construction? To what is the artificial character of:tbe sonnet ' to -be ' at. t bated?
What Is said of the rules of the sonnet? Of bow many lines is lt:;com·
posed? Iii these fourteen lines, how many rhymes are there? As regards the rhyming
olthe first eight lines, what Is the most approved arrangement? ' With respect t!) the
Wt six lines, what docs Hallam pronom1ce the worst ~rrangement? / What, tbe ..bes~

JS

.

.

r

I
l
11

IHj~
,q

• I
I

410

there' can be no objection to what has nbundant precedents ~ven in
theirs, the rhyming of the first and fourth, second and fifth, tlurd and
sixth lines." The following is au example of the b est arrangement:-

the couplet, and in poems which have no division into stanzas
but are written continuously. They are thus employed by
Pope in his "Essay on Criticism", his " Essay on Man", and
his translations of the Iliad and the Odyssey.

AUTU11IN.

."

The pentameter couplet should have complete sense within itself
and is most effective when enlivened with an epigrammatic turn. . "I~
is _formed", says ·w ebb, in his "Beauties of Poetry", "to run into
pomts: but above all it delights in the antithesis; and the art of the
versifiet' is complete when the discordance in. the ideas is proportioned
to the accordance in the sounds. To jar and jingle in the same breath
is a master.-p~ece of Go:hie refinement." The epigrammatic tendency
all~ded to is. illustrated m the opening lines of the "Essay on Criticism",
wluch constitute a fair specim~n of Pope's delicate skill in the manage.
. ' , ' · ·; · · - .
,
ment of this his favorite metre:-

"The blilhll birds of the summer-tide nrc flown;
Cold, motionless, and mute, stantls nil the wood,
Snve ns tho restlc!IB wind, In mournful mood,
Strays through the tossing limbs with saddest monn.
The leaves it wooed with kisses, overblown
By guslB, cnprici on~, pitiless, nnd rude,
Lie dnn k nud <lend nmld the solitncl c ;
Where-through it wnilcth desolate and lone.
But " ·ith a clenrcr splendor sunlight streams
Alll\'rnrt the bnrc., slim, branches; antl on high
Ench stnr, in Night's rich coronal that beamB,
Pours down Intenser brillinnco on tho eye;
Till dazzl ed Fancy finds her gorgeous dreams
Outshone in b eauty by thG autumn sky I "-PIKE.

,.

" 'Tis hard to say if greater want of skill
Appear in writing, or in judging, lll;
Rut, of th e two, less dangerous is the offence
To tire our patience, than mislead our sense.
Some fe w in that, but numbers err in this;
Ten censure wrong for one who writes amiss:
A fool might once himself alone expose;
Now one in verse makes many more in prose."

§ 483. Iambic tetrameter is a favorite measure, and may
be used with advantage, not only in small fugitive pieces, but
also, without any division into stanzas, throughout a long
poem. It is thus employed by Byron in his Mazeppa, and
Scott in his Lady of the L ake and l\!Jarniion. It is the
easiest of all measures to write in ; and this very facility is
. apt t~ betray a poet, unless he is on his guard, into common. place expressions, and a careless habit which is fatal to the
effect of his verses.
§ 484. Iambic pentameter constitutes what is called ~~e .
Heroic Line. It is the most dignified of measures, and 'is
. peculiarly adapted to grave, solemn, or sublime, subject_s.
. Heroic lines are frequently combined in the quatrain, or
stanza of four lines rhyming alternately ; as in the specimen
from Gray's "Elegy in a Country Church-yard", quoted i~
. § 481. They are also, as we ha.ve seen, used in the S~enS?·
· rian stanza. But they appear most commonly in the form of

·411

'fHE ALEXANDRINE.

THE HEROIC LINE.

)

-· ~ '

' ·' .- .·r

§ 485. The line of six iambi is called the Alexandrine
.
'
from a poem on Alexander the Great, in which it is said · to
have been first employed. It is a majestic line occasionally
used as the third of a triplet, and at the close of Spenserian
(· and other stanzas, for the- purpose of imparting ·additional
· ~, weight or solemnity. Thus, from Drydei;i's .lE~eid :~ :-. · ··
·\

'·

•

\ •~

t

- • • • !l • '

-1

"Their fury fall.s; he skhns the liquid plains, . . , , " ' · .., ,
High on his chariot, and, with loosened reins,
·'
Maj estic moves along, nnd awful peace maintains." .·· ' · · _,.

: •• f.

·r r"

. .,
The Alexandrine is peculiarly effective .when the poet ' desir~s to ex~
· press by the sound of his verse a slow or· difficult motion. When the
'· line is so constructed as to admit of a pause in the middle. or at the
le.

...

'

'

'

-

{

~--------~~~~--~~~---------"-~~

'

. What other arrangemen t does he say has precedents in the ltnlinn language, and Is nol ,
obj ectlonablll? Repeat n sonnet constructed according to the best arrangement.
>' •
§ 483. Whnt is said of iambic tetrameter? In what long poems has it been ~~
ployed ? Why is It apt to betray a poet into a careless hab it of expression?
· :•,,
§ 484. What nnme is given to iambic pen tam eter ? Wh nt is the character or tb,11
measure? Jn whnt st!\11Zl\ doos it frequ ently appear? Whnt Is \ls commonest fo~I.

Who hns thus employed it? What is said of the sense of the couplet? To .be :most
• effective, with wh at should it be cnlivoned? Whnt does Webb say respecting it?. Quote
.
~ passnge from P ope illustrating t!Jis epigrammatic turn.
. . , .. ... 1.,
"I ·~-- § 485. Of what Is the Alexandrine co mposed ? Wh ence ls Its name derived?
Where Is It nsed an cl for what pm·pose? Scan the lines quoted • from .Dryden _in
illustration. In what cnso Is the Al exandrln o peculiarly effective? -Where should it
: admit
of a panse ? H ow should It be usorl?
!
,
T ,

1•

(

BLANK VEHSE,

RHYMES.

close of the first hemistich, it is by no means inharmonious; yet it is too
cumbrous to be carried throngh an entire piece. It should be used
sparingly; and that only in a liveli er metre, for the sake of an occasional
contrnst.

freer scope: both from the fact that the sense is not, as in rhymed pentameters, confined to the couplet, and also because it does away with
the necessity which rhyme too often imposes on the versifier, of putting
in superfluous matter simply for the purpose of filling out the sound.
" ·w hat rhyme adds to sweetness", sa;ys Dryden, " it takes away from
sense ; and he who loses least by it may be called a gainer."
For a choice specimen of blank verse, the pupil is referred to p. 224.

412

§ 486. Heroic lines,-that is, iambic pentameters,-when
constructed without rhyme, constitute what is called Blank
Verse. This is the most elevated of all measures, and is the
only form in which epic poetry should appear. At the same
time, to succeed in it is more difficult than in any other kind
of verse. 'l'he reason is evident; the effect, having no assistance, as in most cases, from rhyme, is produced entirely by a
musical disposition of the feet, frequent inversions, and the
constant introduction of those other peculiarities which have
been already enumerated as constituting the distinction between the outward form of prose and that of poetry. A correct ear, a delicate taste, and true poetical genius, are essential to success in blank verse.
Milton has made a more effective use of blank verse than any other
poet in our literature. It has been employed to a considerable extent
in tragedy, to which, as Addison says, "it seems wonderfully adapted";
but even Shakspeare himself has not attained the harmony and effect
which characterize the author of "Paradise Lost". Notwithstanding
Milton's success, the older critics seem, in general, to have looked on
blank verse with disfavor. Dr. Johnson, in his life of the poet just mentioned, pronounc e;; agai11st it in the following t erms:-" Poetry may
subsist without rhyme; but English poetry will not often please, nor
can rhyme ever b e safely spared, but where the subject is able to support itself. Of the Itali an writers without rhyme whom Milton alleges
as precedents, not one is popular; what reason could urge in its defence
has been confuted by the ear. *, * Like other heroes, Milton is to be
admired rather than imitated. He that thinks himself capable of astonishing, may write blank verse; but those that hope only to please, must condescend to rhyme."
Y et, iu spite of this verdict from a master-critic, it is evident that
blank verse has many advantages. It certainly allows the poet a far
§ 4SG. Whnt Is m eant by blank verse? Whnt Is it.s charnctcr? What r enders It
dlfll cult to succeed In blnnk verse? What are essential to success in this m easure? In
whose hands has the m ost effective use been made of it? To what dep!lrtment of
literature docs Addison declare blank Yerso adapted?
Notwithstanding this, how
doeR Shnkspenro himsolf compnrc w ith Milton?
How did tho old er critics regard

§ 487. Whatever may be the effect of dispensing with rhyme
in the case of iambic pentameters, there can be no question as
to its inexpediency in other measures. It has occasionally been
attempted ; but never, perhaps, with success, except in the
case of Southey's " 'fhalaba ", for which, despite this drawback, its author's genius has procured an honorable place in
our literature.

LESSON

CVII.

RHYMES.-PAUSES.

§ 488. RHYME has been already defined. As we have
seen, it enters largely into English verse. The following principles are to be observed respecting it:I. The more numerous the letters that make the rhyme, the better it
is. Th e French designat e as rich rhymes those into which a number of
consonants enter. Thus the rhyme of the first couplet given below is
full er, and therefore b etter, than that of the second:1. "True wit Is nature to advantage dressed,·

What oft was thought, but ne'er so well expressed." 2. "Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see,
Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be."

II. No Syllable must rhynie with itself.
the followin g couplet:-

H ence there is a fault in

bl ank YCJ''C ? What does Johnson say about it? With what advantnges Is blank
vet'l'e nttcncled? ·what docs Dryden sny. respectin g rh yme?
§ 4S7. What Is th e effect of dispensing with rhyme in measures other than inmbio
p~ntmn e tt'r?

§ 48S. What rhymes nr(' ~onsidercd th e best ? What name is api>lled to such by the
French ? lllnslrnte this by m eans of the two given couplets. 'Vhat Is the second prin-

414

RHYMES.

PAUSES.

"Wo go from Ilium's tnlned walls away,
Wherever favoring fortuno points the way."

· Ill. Rhyme speaks to the ear, and not to the eye. If, therefore, the
concluding sound is the same, no matter what the spelling, the rhyme is ·
perfect. This is the case in the following couplet, though the combinations of letters in the rhyming sy llables arc quite different:"The in creasin g prospect tires onr wanderin g eyeB;
Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arise."

Vice versa, though the concluding letters be the same, if the sound is
different the rhyme is imperfect; as in the following:"Encouraged thus, wit's Titans brnved the skie.s;
And the press groaned with licensed blasph emies."

IV. In lines terminating with trochees or amphibrachs, the last two
syllables must rhyme; in such as close with dactyls, the last thr.ee.
"In the dark and green and gloomy valley,
Satyrs by th e brooklet love to dally."
"Take her up tenderl!f,
:Fashioned so slenderly."

§ 489. Hhymes arc divided into two classes; perfect, and
admissible. In the former, as we have seen, the closing
vowel sounds are the same (without reference to spelling),
while the consonant sounds that precede them are different; in
the latter, the closing vowel sounds, though not the same,
closely resemble each other. In either case, if the closing .
vowel sounds are followed by consonant sounds, the latter
must correspond, or the rhyme is inadmissible. Examples
follow :1. P erfect.-" Be thou the first true merit to befriend ;
His praise is lost who stays till nll commend." ·
2. Admissible.-" Good nature nnd good sense must ever join:
To err is humnn; to forgive, di vine."
8. Iundmiss.-" Yet he was kind; or, if severe in a1t(Jlit,
The Jove he boro to learning wns in fmtlt."

415

the most common ; though we often have three, and even four
in the sonnet and the Spenserian stanza. Other things being
equal, the difficulty of constructing a stanza is proportioned
to the number of lines made to close with the same sound.
Though there is no rule as to the number of lines that may rhyme
togeth er, it is a general principle, that, throughout the same poem,
those which do rhyme should stand at regular intervals. This the ear
expects, and it is disappointed when it finds the regularity disturbed.
A capricious disposition of rhymes may surprise the reader, but it rarely pleases him.

§ 491. Ease of utterance requires that every line of ten
or more syllables should be so constructed, with regard to its
sense, as to admit of at least one cessation of voice, which is
known as the Primary Pause. Some lines admit of several ;
in which case, the inferior or shorter ones are denominated
Secondary Pauses. vVhether primary or secondary, these
pauses must not contravene the sense i and, therefore, it is
clc::u ,
I. 'rhat they must not divide a word.
II. Th:i.t they must uot separate an adjective and its
noun, or an adverb and its verb, when, in either case, the latter immediately follows the former.
§ 492. Heroic lines, or iambic pentameters, are most melodious when the primary pause comes after the fourth · or the
fifth syllable. Pope, whose accurate ear rarely · allowed;him
to err in matters of euphony, generally brings the · pause
in question in one of these positions t as in the following
lines:-

§ 490. With respect to the number of lines that may
rhyme together in a stauza, there is no definite rule.

Two is

ciple with respect to rhym es ? To whnt docs rhyme speak? Whnt is necessary to make a perfect rhyme? What Is the character ot' the rhyme, if the sound Is different / , ,
though the concluding letters be the same? In what lines must the last two syllables'
rhymo? In what, the lllSt three?
·
§ 489. Into what two clnsscs nre rhym es <livid c<l? When Is 11 rhym e said to b9 (
"
perfect? When, n<lmissible? Wh en is a rh y me inadmissible? Give examples.
§ 400. Whnt is said of th e number of linos th at may rhy me together? What is thci l

commonest number? How many do we sometimes have? To what Is the difficulty
of constructing a stanza proportioned? What principle prevails with re8pect to the
regular occurrence of rhymes?
§ 491. Wh&t does ease of utterance require? What Is a primary pause? . What is
a seconclnry pause? With what must these pauses be consistent? What tw~ principles, therefore, nre established respecti ng them 1
§ 492. 'Vh ere 1loes tho primary pau se occur In the most harmonious heroic lines?
What poet generally brings his pauses in one of these positions? Show how th11y fall
·
In the passage quoted.

l

I

r

416

"Thee, bold Longin us I II nU the Nine Inspire,
And bless their critic II with a poet's firo:
An nr<lentju<lge, II who, zenlous to his trust,
With warmth gives sentence, II yet is always just ;
Whose own example II strengthens all his laws,
And is himself II that great sublime ho draws."

§ 493. The alexandrine, or iambic hexameter, requires
its primary pause, after the third foot.
"The cruel, mvonous, bounds II and bloody hunters near,
This noblest beast of chase, II that vniuly doth but fear,
Some bank or quick-set flncl~; II to which his hann ch oppo~ed,
He turns upon his foes, II that soon have him enclosed."

§ 494. Secondary pauses may occur in any part of a line,
but contribute most to its melody when they stand at a short
distance from the primary. Observe how they fall in the
following passages : the secondary pause is denoted by a single vertical line; the primary, by pa.rallels.
"Tvro principles II in human nnturo I reign ;
Self-Ion~ I to urge, II nn<l reason I to restrain :
Nor this I a good, II nor thnt a bat!, I W() caU,
Each works its end, II to move I or govern I all;
And I to their proper operation II still
.
Ascribe nil good, II to their improper, I ill."
"The dew wns falling fast, II the stars I began to blink;
I henrd a rnico; I it sai d, II' Drink, I pretty creature, I d rink l'
And, I looki ng o"er tli e hedge, II before me I espied
A snow-white mountain Jamb, II with a maiden nt its side."

EXERCISE.

I. Each of the following lines contains its own words; but
they are misplaced, so that there is neither rhyme nor rhythm.
Restore the order, so as to make the verses anapestic tetranieter acatalectic, rhyming consecutively.

When, o'e1· the surge, the wild terrible whirl-wind raves, ·r j
And the hurricane .h urls the mariner's dirge out, . .
The dark-heaving sea thou in thy glory spurnest,
·
Proud, free, and homeless, bird of the ocean-world.
When the winds are at rest and in his glow the sun,
And below the glittering tide in beauty,_ sleeps,
Above, triumphant, in the pride of thy power, ·
Thou, with thy mate, thy revels ~f loye art holding
Unconfined, unfettered, untired, unwatched,
·
In the world of the mind, like thee be my spirit;
No leaning for earth, its flight e'er to weary, . . .
And in regions of light fresh as thy pinions. ·- .

II .. Itestorc the words in the following lines to their order,
so that they may rhyme as required in the best form of the

Sonnet:TIIE AUTUMN OF LIFE.

Flown are the songs of buoyant youth's swift hours;
And through his henrt whose locks are white and thin
With rime of age, tM Spirit of Delight ..
With a melancholy moan goes wailing.
For all the joys, that, with winning tone, Hope
Proclauned should linger, dear, bright, and deathless,
Around the day which to night now waneth,
Alone, the spirit fruitless search maketh.
Yet to the soul, aspiring nnd trustful,
Are given vis10ns exalting of its home:
And its lofty goal grander glory clothes,
Than, in cloudless autumn's even, stars assume.
In dole and in darkness Earth slowly sinks,
While the auroral, pure, light of Heaven br~aks.
.,

•

III. Restore the words in the following lines · to ' their
order, so that they may rhyme, and form alte~n~tely tr~~kaic
tetranieter acatalectic, and trochaic tetrameter. catalectic : -":
-

~

IBON.

While stronger grows our faith in good,
Means of greater good increase i
No longer slave of war, iron
The march of peace onward leads.
Still finding new mode::i of service,
It moves air, earth, and ocean;
And, binding the distant nations,.
It proves like the kindred tie ;
Sharmg, with its Atlas-shoulder,
Loads of toil and human care;
Bearing, on its wing of lightning,
,
Through the air swift thought's mission.

THE ALBATROSS.

"\Vhere, in magnificence, the fathomless wnvcs toss,
The wild nlbntross soars, high and homeless ;
Unshrinking, alone, undaunted, unwearied,
The tempest his throne, his empire the ocean.
§ 493. Where does the Alexnndrinc require its primary pnuso?
§ 494. ·w here may secondary pauses occur? In whnt position do they contribute
most to Uie melody of a line?

.-. ~17

· POETICAL EXERCISE. <

PAUSES.

18

.

•

J

~

!

! ' -"

tDtsH

•

418

-~

VARIETIES OF POETRY.

VARIETIES OF POETRY;

IV. Restore the words in the following lines to their
order, so that they may form dactylic tetrameters acatalectic,
and rhyme consecutively:-

ficult, and that in which mediocrity is least endurable; hence,
few have attempted it, and a still smaller · number have attained success. There are few literatures that can boast of
more than one great epic. Homer's Iliad and Virgil's ./Eneid
are the master-pieces of antiquity in this department of poetry.:
In modern times, English .literature has produced, in Milton's
Paradise Lost, incomparably the greatest epic j in Italian,
'l'asso's Jerusalem Delivered,-in Spanish, the Romance of
the Cid,-in German, the Niebelungen-Lied,-and, in French,
the IIen:riade, -are generally ranked by critics in. this class
of poems.
An epic is also technically termed an Epopea, er Epopooia.

For human fraternity one more new claimant
Swelling the flood that on to eternity sweeps.
I, who have filled the cup, to think of it tremble;
For I must drink of it yet, be it what it may.
Into the ran.ks of humanity, room for him I
In y~ur krngdo~ of vanity, give him a place I
With kmdly affect10n welcome the stranger
Not with dejection, hopefully, trustfully.'

----·----LESSON
VARIETIES

CVIII.

OF

POETRY.

§ 495. The principal varieties of poetry are Epic, Dra·
matic, Lyric, Elegiac, Pastoral, Didactic, and Satirical. Each
of these classes has its distinctive features ; yet the characteristics of several varieties may enter into the same poem,
and sometimes do so to such an extent that it is difficult to
decide to which it belongs.

§ 496. Epic Poetry is that which treats of the exploits
of heroes. It generally embraces a variety of characters and
incidents; but must be so constructed that unity of design
may be preserved,-that is, one leading and complete action'
should be carried through the work, with the distinctness and
prominence of which the less important stories, or episodes,
as they are called, should not be allowed to interfere. Epic
is universally admitted to b!-J the most elevated and majestic
department of poetry. It is, at the same time, the most dif§ 495. Enumerate the princ ipal varieties of poetry.
§ 496. What Is epic poetry? How does it compare with the other varieties? What
must be preserved throughout? What is meant by unity of design? What Is said
of the diiliculty of writing epics? Whnt are the grent master-pieces of antiquity ln
this department of poetry? Of m odern literatures, which hns produced the greatest

•.

The word epic is derived from the Greek r,..os, a heroic poem; and
the species of poetry so called claims a very ancient origin. · History
h as generally furnished its themes: but a strict regard for historical
trnth in the development of the story is by no means requisite. Fiction,
invention, imagination, may be indulged in to an almost unlimited ext ent, provided the. unity be preserved. According to Aristotle, the plot
of an epic must be important in itself and instructive in the reflections
it suggests ; must be fill ed with suitable incidents, as well · as enlivened
with a variety of characters and desc riptions; and must maintain
throughout propriety of character and elevation of style. Besides
these essentials, there are generally episodes, formal addresses, sustained
pomp; and machinery. This last t erm, as used by critics, signifies · the
introduction of supernatural beings; without which the French maintain that no poem can be admitted as an epic.

§ 497. Dramatic Poetry is closely allied to epic. ." .. Like
the latter, it generally relates to some important event, and
for the most part appears in the form of blank, or heroic,
verse. The term drama [derived from the Greek verb opaw,
I do or act] is applied to compositions, whether prose or
epic? Ennmcrnte the epics of clifl'ere nt litcrntt~res. What other nnmo Is sometimes
gi\·en to nn epic poem? From whnt. i~ the wonl epfo tlerivcd? \V hnt is ~nid of.the
origin of epic poc tr.r? \\' h cucu arc its th cwc2, fur the wost part, t:lkcn? In carrying
out nn hi storicnl event, whnt mny be indulged in? According to Aristotl~, what are
the essenlials of an epic 7 Besiues these essentials, what qre generally fouwl iu a poem
of this class?
§ 497. To what is dramatic poetry closely nllied? To what does it gen~aHy relate?
1n what form does it, for the most pnrt, nppear? From what is the ''\()rd drama de·

•

- 420

VARIETIES OF POE'rRY.

poetry, in which the events that form their subjects are not
related by the author, but are represented as actually taking
. place by means of dialogue between the various characters,
who speak the poet's language as if it were their own. The
principles here laid down respecting poetical dramas are
equally applicable to compositions of the same class in prose.
In dramatic, as in epic, poetry, strict regard must be had to unity.
Th e Dramatic unities are three :-1. Unity of action; which requires
that but one leading t rain of events be kept in view, and forbids the
introduction of all underplots except such as are closely connected with
the principal action and are calculated to develop it. 2. Unity of time;
which limits the action to a short period, generally a single day. 3.
Unity of place, which confines the action to narrow geographical
bounds. In addition to this, regard should be had to what is termed
poetical jitstice; that is, the plot should be so constructed that th e different characters, whether good or bad, may, at the termination of the
piece, obtain their r espectixe deserts.
The great dramatists of antiquity are JEschylus, Sophocles, and
Euripides,- all ornaments of Grecian literature. Of these, JEschylus
is the most sublime: Sophocles, the most beautiful; Euripides, the
most pathetic. The first displays the lofty intellect ; the second exercises the cultivated taste; the third indulges the feeling heart.
Among moderns, the first place belongs to Shakspeare. In French
literature, Racine, Moliere, and Corneille, are t he leading dramatists ;
in German, Schiller and Kotzebue ; in Spanish, Lope de Vega and
Calderon.
The leading divisions of drama.ti~ poetry are two ; Trngedy and
Comedy. The former embraces those compositions which represent
some great or sublime action, attended with a fatal catastrophe and
calculated to awaken in the reader or spectator strong emotions of pity
or horror. Its diction is elevated; and it is generally written in blank,
or heroic, verse. Comedy, on the other hand, is that species of drama
in which the incidents and language r esemble those of ordinary life and
the plot h as a happy termination.
rived? To what compositions is the term applied? What must be strictly regar<led
in dramatic poetry? How many dramatic unities are there? Define them. Who
are the great dramatists of antiquity? Mention the characteristics of each. Among _ ,
moderns, to whom does the first place belong? Who . are th e _leadi ng dramatists o( "
French liternturc ·? of German? of Spani sh ? What are the leading <livisions of drii- t~,
matic poetry? .What compositi ons are embraced undei· . the heml of tragedy? What. ;« '
is said ?.f t)Hl. di ctign of tragedy? In what is it generally written? Define corned_~· ~.

V.ARIE TIES OF POETRY.

42l

The great divisions of dramas are called Acts, and these are sub-.
divided into Scenes. Regular tragedies and comedies are limited to
five acts. The division must in a great measure be arbitrary, though
rules have been laid down by various writers to define the portion of
the plot which should be contained in each. According to Vossius, the
first act must present the intrigue; the second must develop it; the
third should be filled with incidents forming its complication; and the
fourth should prepare the means of unravelling it, which is finally accomplished in the fifth.
A Farce.is a short piece of low comic character. Its object being
simply to excite mirth, there is nothing tC10 unnatural or improbable
for it to contain. The force is restricted to three acts as its greatest
limit, but is often confined to two, and sometimes even to one. In
England, it seems to have risen to the dignity of a regular theatrical
entertainment, about the beginning of the. last century; since which
time, it has maintained a high degr~e of popularity, being usually performed, by way of contrast, after a tragedy.
·
A Budesque is a dramatic composition, the humor of which consists
in rnh.-ing things high and low,- clothing elevated thoughts in low expressions, or investing ordinary topics with the artificial dignity of
poetic diction. A Parody, 01· Travestie, is-,a species of Burlesque in
which the form and expressions of serious d1'.amas are closely imitated
in language of a ridiculous character.
A Melodrama is a short dramatic composition into which music is
introduced. Its plot is generally of an insignificant character, the display of gorgeous scenery being its chief object.
A Burletta is a short comic musica.l drama.
A Prologue is a short composition in verse, used to introduce a
drama and intended to be r ecited b efore its representation. .·
An Epilogue is a closi~g address to the audience at the conclusion
of a drama. It sometimes recapitulates the chief incidents of the piece,
and draws a moral from them.
·

§ 498. Lyric Poetry is that variety which is adapted to _
singing and an accompanimen t of the lyre _9r other musical
instrum'ent.
Of lyric compositions, the Ode·is the most elevated. It
What are acts and scene8 r 'I'o how many sets are regular tragedies and comedies confined? What Is said of the di vision Into acts? What rule does Vossius lay · down?
.What Is a farce? Of how many acts does It consist? At what time, In England, did it
rise to the dignity of a regular theatrical entertniument? What Is a burlesque? What
is s parocly or travestie? What is a melodrama? What is s burletta? What Ls a
prologue ? What Is an epil ogue?
~ 498. Wbat is meant by lyric poetry ? Whnt is the most elevated of lyric compo-

I
.1

422

VARIETIES OF POETRY.

VARIETIES . OF POETRY. ~

is characterized by length and variety, and is for the most
part confined to the expression of sentiment or imaginative
thought, admitting of narrative only incidentally, In ancient
literature, it was sometimes distinguished by a high degree of .
sublimity, as in the case of the odes of Pindar. Previously to
the discoveries which have been recently made by scholars in
the science of Greek metres, the Pindaric ode was supposed
to admit of the most capricious irregularity in the length and
measure of its lines ; and hence our modern compositions
which were imitated from those ancient models were con·
structed on a system of absolute license in this respect. In
point of fact, however, a scheme of perfect metrical regularity
pervades the Greek ode of both Pindar and the dramatic
choruses. Ii; English literatifre, Collins' " Ode on the Passions", and Dryden's on" St. Cecilia's Day", are among the
finest specimens of this variety of composition.
A Song differs from an ode in being shorter, having greater uniformity of metre, and treating rather of tender and melancholy, than
of sublime, subjects.
A Ballad is a popular species of lyric poem which records in easy
and uniform verse some interesting incident or romantic adventure.
Our most approved ballad measure is iambic heptameter, often written,
however, in two lines, tetrameter and trimeter alternately.
Odes sung in honor of the gods were anciently callc<l Hymns; and
this term has been applied, in modern times, to the spiritual songs used
in church-worship. The term Psalm, originally applied to the lyric·
compositions of King David and others of the Hebrew poets, is now
used as synonymous with hymn.
The Madrigal generally consists of less than twelve lines, and is often
constructed without strict reference to rule, according to the fancy of
the poet, rhymes and verses of different species being frequently intermingled. The subjects are generally of a tender or amorous character;.
and the expressions used in it are simple and often quaint.
sltions? Describe the od e. By wha~ in ancient literature, was it characterized? How
is the irregularity of metre in our modern odes accounted for? What odes nre mention ed as among the finest s11ecirnens in our language? In what r espects does a song
differ from an ode ? What is a ballad? \Vhat is our most approved ballad mea.5ure?
What w as form erly meant by the term hymn f 'I'o what is this term now applied?
What wns the originnl 111 canirog of the term psalm? 'With wbnt is it now synonymous?
What is a madrigal? What is said of the subjects of madrigals?

423

The Epigram closely resembles the madrigal in form though it 1•
•
.
'
8
written without reference to musical adaptation. It consists of a few
lines ~mbodying a lively or ingenious thought concisely expressed.
Its. pornt. often consists in a verbal pun; but the higher species of
epigram is rather characterized by fineness and delicacy.

§ 499. Elegiac Poetry is that · variety which . treats of .
mournful subjects. Gray's "Elegy in a Country ChurchYard" is the most noted poem of this 'description in the ·
'~hole range of our literature. A short elegy, commemorati;e of ~he dead and expressive of the sorrow _of surviving
friends, is called an Epitaph.
·
· ·

§ ~00. Pastoral Poetry depicts . 8hepherd-lif~ by means ~f
n.arrat1ves, songs, and dialogues. An Idyl is a short descriptive pastoral poem. An Eclogue is a pastoral in which shepherds .are. repre.se~tcd as conversing. The art of the pastoral
~oet hes Ill selectrng for his descriptions the beauties of .rural
hfe, and carefully avoiding all its repulsive features:
§ 50 L Didactic Poetry aims to instruct ~ather than to
please. G:ener~lly ~cvoted to the exposition .o f some dry abst:act subJect, it fails to interest the reader unless replete
w1t.b ornament. Of this species of poetry, Pollok's " Course
. of Time", Young's " Night Thoughts", and Pope's " Essay
on Man", will serve as specimens.
·
·
§ 502. Satirical Poetry is that in which the weaknesses ·
follies, or wickedness, of men, are held up to ridicule, or re: . :
r:_,_- buked with serious severity.
: .:.: .. · · .

,,

~1·
A Satire is general in its character, and is aimed at the weakness ·
\ foll~, or wickedness, rather than the individual. Its object is the refor:
•:
mat1on of t~e abuses it attacks. A Lampoon, or Pasquinade, on the -·-··
other hand, is personally offensive, assailing the individual rather than
, · his fault. I~ e.mploys abuse in preference to argument, and aims rather
to annoy or Injure than to reform. ·

fu :r

§ 499. What is elegiac poetry? What Is tbe most noted poem of this description
_o nr literature? What is an epit.nph?
.
,.
·
§ 500. What does pastoral poe try depict? What is an idyl? What is an ' eclogue r
In what does the art of the pastoral poet consist?
§ 501. What is the aim of didactic poetry? Why should It be replete with orna·
ment? What WOTks nre mentioned as specimens of didactic poems?
§ 502. What is satirical poetry ? What is n satire ? What is a lampoon 7

-SPECIMEN PROOF-SIIEET,

SP ECUI-EN p ROOF-SHEET I

EXIllBITING THE MARKS USED IN TIIE OORREOTION OF ERRORS.

______.......__
.AS CORRECTED.

---·-- WILLIAM FALCON ER.
2~

~a,i">.
4

6

a,/

Jj

WILLIAM FALCONER.

William Falconer was the son of a ~ barber in
Edinburgh, rnd was born in 1730.

He had v~ry few

advantages of education, and in early life went to sea

of a vessel that wrecked in the Levant and was saved

of a vessel that was wrecked in the Levant, and was

with only two of his crew _:_~his catastrophe:formed

saved with only two of his crew.

the subject of his poem entitled "The Shipwreck, on

formed the subject of his poem entitl~d "The Ship~

which his r eputation as a writer chie~y rests.

wreck", on which his r eputation as a writer :chiefly .

A

Early

21 _ _
21 _ _

hasbeen highly spoken of by those capable of estiA
,
mating its merits. I

peared, which has been highly spoken of by those

11

Early in 1769, his

"Marin~

capable of estimating its merits.

C.

c.19

Dictionary" ap-

In this same year,

he embarked on the Aurora ; but the vessel was never

the vessel was never heard of after she passed the

heard of after she passed the Cape : the poet of the

Capei_ the poet_ of_the Shipwreck is therefore sup-

Shipwreck is therefore supposed to have perished by

perish1d by the same disaster he had

~~ so graphically described.

1f The

subject of

the "Shipwreck" and its authors fate demand our
.
A
interest and sympathy. · If we pay respect to the
-

A

the same disaster he had himself so graphically · described.
The subject of the " Shipwreck" and its author's
fate demand our interest and sympathy.-If we pay
produc~

ingemiious scholar who can produce agreeable verses

respect to the ingenious scholar who can

in leisure and retirement, how much more interest

agreeable verses in leisure and retirement, how much

I must we take in the "shipA1oy on the high and giddy

28

This catastrophe

rests.

e/ - posed to have

8kt,

He afterwards became mate

i~ 1769, his "Marine Dictionary" appear_sd, which

Crn this-seam-year, he embarked on the AuRORAAbut

21

in the merchant service.

--A

-------1\

4

He had very few

Edinburgh, and was born in 1730.

avantages of education, and (went fo sea (in early life)
A
A
in the merchant service. He afterwards became mate
A

4 :/

WILLIAM FALCONER was the son of a barber in

v' Imast',/\

l

cherishing the hour which he may casually
,----A

snatch from danger and fatigue_:_

'LefU1'ed

l}~~M of

·

f<l.tWJ' I
a-I;

6

more interest must we take in the "ship-boy on the
high and giddy mast", cherishing refined visions of ..
fancr at the hour which he may casually snatch
from danger and fatigue !

-·

---

-

- ·~.-....

EXPLANATION OF MARKS USED ON THE SPECIMEN PROOF-SHEET.
bit is desired to change nny word to capitals, small capitals, Roman text (the ordi·
nnry letter), or italics, clraw n lin e beneath it, nnd write in the margin, (}rips., S. caps.,
Rom. , or Ital .• as the case mny be. See corrections 1, 2, 14, nnd S, on the specimen sheet.
·when it is necessary to E>xpnnge a letter or word, drnw n lino through it, nnd pince
in the margin a chnrncter resembling: a d of current hand, which stnncis fur the Lalin
w ord dele (erase); as in No. 3.
When a wrong letter or word occurs in the proof-sheet, drnw n lin e through H., aml
place whnt must be substituted fur it In tho margin, with n vertical lino nt th e right; ns
in the corrections mark ed 4.
Attention Is drawn to nn irl\'crtcd letter by underscoring it, nnd writing oppnsile tho
chnr:ictcr used in No. 5.
.A.n omitted word, letter, comma, ~e micolon, colon, exclnmation-point, or interrogation-point, as well as brackets nntl parentheses, nre written in the margin, with av erti cal line at th e right; ns in the Yarious corrections mark ed 6: a caret shows where to ·
introduce what is tlrns marked in. When there is so much omitted that there is not
room for it in the margin, it is written at the top or bottom of the pnge, and a lin e is
used to show wh ere it is to be introduced; as at the bottom of th e specimen sheet.
A period is marked in by plar.ing it in the margin inside of a circle, ns in No. 9.
Apostroph es nn tl quotati on-points am introd uced inn charncter resembling a V, nnd a
caret is placed in the text to show where they arc to be inserted. Thi s is illustratecl in No.11.
No. 22 shows how the dnsh and hyph en are introduced.
When a letter or word sho uld b e transposed, a lin e is drawn aroun<l it nnd carried
to the place where it should stand, nnd the letters tr. nre placed opposite, as In No. 7.
No. 10 shows how to inark out a quadrnt or spncc which Improperly appears.
If a broken or imperfect lett er is used, draw a line through or b eneath it, and
make an inclined cross in the margi n, ns in No. 12.
Sometimes a letter of tho wrong size will be used by mistake ; in such a case, underline it and place tho letters w. f. (wrong.font) in the margin, as in 13.
If the letters of a word stand apart from each other, drnw a cuned lin e beneath the
space which separates th em, nnd two curves in the m arg in, as in 15. If th-0 proper
space is "·antin;; bctwern two co11ti;;11ons words, pince a caret wh ero the space should
b e, and opposite to them mak e a character like a music sharp, ns shown in No. 16.
Two parallel horizontal lines, as in No. 17, nre uscil wh en tho letters of a w ord aro
not nll in the same le vel, and a h orizontal line is also drawn under such as nre out of pince.
When a new paragraph has be.en improp erly begun, a line is drawn from its c•nnmencement to the end of the previous paragraph, and the words no b1·eak are written
in the margin; see No. 18. When it is desired to commence a new parngrnph the parngraph mark ("[) is introduced at the place, and also in the margin.
When letters at the commen cement of a lin e are out of the proper !eve.I, a horizontal lin e should be drawn beneath th em, ancl n si milar one placed in the margin; ns in
No. 21. When any portion of a paragraph projects laterally b eyo nd the rest, a vertical
lin e should be drawn beside it, and a similar one must staml opposite to it in the margin; see No. 23.
Wh en n lead ha~ been improperly omitted, the word Lead is written at tho sldo
of the page, and n horizontal line shows where It is to be intro1luced, ns in No. 25. If
a lead too many has heen intro1lucetl , the error is corrected as l:i 24.
·wh 0n un e ve n • pn C{)S arc l e ~ hctwc:cn wor1ls, n lln o is drawn beneath, nnd ~pacd
Z,ettei• is written opposite ; S0C 20.
If it is 1lc"irc<l to rctnin a won! which has been marked out, <lots arc plnced beneath
it, and the word 8tet (let it 8t• 11ul) is written in tho margin; as in 27.

A LIST OF SUBJECTS.
·- - ------ - . ~'1rn student will find it to his advantage always to prepare a pre·
hm1nary analysis. To aid him in this, models in the principal departments of prose composition are first presented.
, . .
I. A

PARALLEL.-Tlte

Old and t!te New Testament.

I. Th eir respect! vo writers.
II. The parties to whom they are each addres~ed.
IH. 'l'he languages in which they are respectively written. ·
IV. Comparison of their style.
V. Authenticity of e.ach, by whom acknowledged.
VI. Ton1J of the teachings of ench.
.

2. A

D ESCIUPTIVE

tf r ,.

',.

LETTER.-.Dated Niagara Falls.

I. Acknowledge receipt of a friend's letter, and otter to give an account of a summer
tour which you nrc supposed to have taken.
II. Preparations for leaving home.
III. Inciden ts on the way to Ningarn.
IV. Gener.al ~emarks on the pleasures, fatigues, and ad vantages, of travelling.
·
V. D escnpt10n of the Falls and the surrounding places.
VI. Comparison with any other scene.
VII. Emotions awak ened by sublime scenery.
VIII. Gcncrnl r emarks about returning, and the anticipated plerumre ofrejolnlng friends.

3.

HISTORICAL NARRATrVE.-T/ie

Spanish .Armada.

I. Introductory l~emarks on the great expeditions of which history tells us.
11. Causes that led to tho outfit of th e Armada.
•'
,"
III. General description of the Spnnlsh vessels of that age.
"
IV. Strength of the Armada.
V. Conslernntion in Britain, and preparations to meet it.
VI. Fnte of the .A.rmnda.
VII. Politicnl Consequences.

VIII. Gen eral reflections. History shows that divine interference often frustrates the
greatest human efforts.

4.

'

BIOGRAPHICAL

SKETCH.-Jnliu8 Oa:Bar.

I. State of Rome at the time of Cresnr's birth.
II. Cresar's birth and parentage.
III. I~cirlents of bis youth. Carne near fulling a victim to Sylla's cruelty.
.;v. Ills first military exploits.
V. Means whi ch he took to attain p opularity.
VI. Rnpid politicnl ndvnncement. Mig hty conquests.
VII. His fate; the causes that led to it, nnd its consequences.
VIII. Cresar's character, as a general; as an nu th or; as a man. ·

•

•
83.
84.
85.
86.
87.
88.
89.
90.
91.

5. EssAY.-Ships.
I. Origin. When and by " ·horn first made?
.
II. Appearance. Original form and subse~uc~t improvements.
III. Inventions. .l\larincrs' com pass; npphcat10n of steam.
IV. Objects for whi ch th ey nro used.
.
v. Uscfuln ern , as co mpared with other means of trnnsport11t10n.
VI. Effects tbat ships have produced on mankind • .
VII. Feelings excited by seeing a ship under full sml.
41. Luther nt the Diet of Worms.
PARALLELS.
42. The Thirty Years' War.
6. Character of Columbus nnd that of Sir 43. Tho Reign of Qnecn Anne.
Ii;aac Newton.
44. The Ern of Louis XIV.
7. The character of St. John and that of 45 . 'fhe American Revolution.
4G. The Battle of 13unkor Hill.
St. Paul.
8. Luther and Cah·in.
4i. Tho Reign of T error.
48. 'l'he Invasion of Iiussia by Napoleon.
9. Cresar and A l~xand cr.
10. Firmn c~s and ObstinRcy.
49. The Jlun gari11n Revolution.
11. l'hysical nnd Momi ~ournge .
50. The Russo-Turkish War.
12 . .Ancient and Modern Literature.
Il!OGRAPlllCAL SKETCHES.
13. JJ\\·enlion or the J>.Iarin er·s Compass and
Application of:3tenm to Navigation. 51. Moses.
52. Rnth.
14. Ancient and Moclern Greece.
53. Solomon.
15. Ancient at••l Modern Rome.
54. Homer.
16. A Concise an cl a Diffuse Sty le.
ti5. Daniel.
11. !'rose and Poetry.
56. _.Alexander the Great.
18. Beauty and Sublimity.
5i. Cicero.
;.-The
Man
of
Talent
and
the
Man
of
19
58. Mark Antony.
Genius.
59. Mohammed.
20. Wit and Humor.
60. Charlemagne.
21. French and English Character.
61. Richnr<I Creur de Lion.
22. Courage and llashness.
62. P etrnrch.
2-'3. Theory and Practice.
63. Tasso.
24. The Ideal and the Heal.
64. Cohnn bu~.
20. Ancient and Modern Patriotism.
65. Henry V lll.
•
The
Sacred
and
the
l'rofane
l'oets.
26
06.-Erasmns.
IllSTORICAL NARRATIVES.
61. Bloody Mary.
21. The Deluge..
68.- Sir Isaac N e wton.
28. The Crossing of the R eel Sea. (Exo- 69. Queen EHzabetll.
dus, chap. xiv.)
70. Shakspearn.
29. Naaman, the Leper. (II. Kings, chap.v.) 71. :Ma1fa Th eresa.
30. The History of Jonah.
72. Peter tho (l rent.
31. Jephthah's Daughter. (Jud ges, chap. i 3. Voltaire.
XI., V. 29.)
74. Patrick Henry.
32. David and Goliath. (I. Samuel, chap. 75. "\Vnshington.
:XVII.)

33. The Reign of the Emperor Nero.
34. The Era of Haroun Al Haschid.
35. The N <•rman Conquest.
3li. Tho Crnrndes.
37, Granting of the Magna Charla.
38. The Discornry of America.
39. The Settling of America.
40. Tllo Reformation.

429

LIST OF SUBJECTS.

LIST OF SUBJECTS.

428

92.

93.
94.
95.
96.
97.
98.
99.
100.
101.
102.
103.
104.
105.

ESSAYS.

76. Franklin.
7T. llobe•pierre.
78. Aaron Burr.
~9. J!ownrd, the philfmlhropist.
so. :Mungo rark.
FICTION.

81. Adventures in Calil"ornia.
82. An Encounter with Pirates.

A Lion Hunt in Southern Af1ica.
Thc 'lndian's Hevenge.
The Ilistory of a Pin.
The History of a Bible:>.
T he History of a Cent.
The Ilistory of a Shoe.
The History of a Looking-Glass.
The Uistory of a Belle.
The History of a School-room.
The Story of nn Old Soldier.
Robinso n Crnsoe.
A Hurricane in the Torrid Zone.
Visit to Mount St. Bernard.
The victim of Intemperance.
In ciclents of a Whaling Voyage.
Ad\'entures In Australia.
The Prisoner of the Bastlle.
The Smugglers.
The Alchemist.
The Flower-Girl.
A Voyage to the Mediterranean.
Visit to an Almshouse.
Encounter with Robbers.

.t

106. Spring.
101. A Thunder-storm.
108. Flowers.
109. The Beauties of Nature.
110. Snow.
111. Mountains.
11 2. Forest8.
11 3. A Lake Scene.
114. A Storm at Sea.
115. Our Country.
116. Thanksgiving Day.
117. The Study of History.
118_,_!he Advantages of Education . .
119. Peace.
120. War.
121. .An Earthquake.
122. Chivalry.
123. Scene in an Auction-Room.
124. The Ruins of Time.
125. The Fickleness of Fortune.
126. Disease.
127. The Cholera.
128. Prayer.
129. Death.
130. Life.
131. Youth.
132. Old Age.
188. Morning.
134. Evening.
185. Day•

136. Night.
137. Summer.
138. Autumn.
139. Winter.
140. The Mission of the Dew·drop.
141. Truth.
.
142. Honesty.
143. Earth's Battle-fields.
144. Gambling.
145. Echo.
146. Anger.
147. Self-government.
148. Ambition. ~ ...
.. ,
149:-Contentment.
150Jhe Love of Fa:ne.
151. Palestine and Its .Associations.
152. City Life.
,
153. The West Indies.
'''
154. Melancholy.
155. Life in the Country.
156. Purity of Thought. :
157. Patience.
·' ' ·
158. The Life of the Merchant.
159. 'l'he Life of the Bailor.
16J. The Life of the Soldier.
161. The Mariners' Compa.."8.
162. The Spirit of Discovery.·
163. Pride.
164Jhe Art of Printing.
165. The Third Commandment.
166. Mirrors.
Hl7. Ntlwspapers.
168. Jerusalem.
169. Novelty.
·
·,,, .., .. .
170. The Bible.
171. The Sun.
172. The Starry Heavens. · ·~"· '. :.·, : ' · ·
173. Astronomy.
.
• '·· l
174. The Rainbow.
175. The Moon.
176. The Aurora Borealis.
171. The Stars.
178. Comets.
179. The Earth.
· ·
180. Tho Study of Geography.
·''
181. The Province of Rlletoric. · ·
182. The Mystic Seven.
•
·183. The Pleasures of Travelling; · '
184. The Congress of the United States. '
rn:CThe Applications of Steam. ·: :• I '
186. Public Libraries.
'

.

,

..

. . :.. ~, ~

!.~

188. The Fourth Commandment. .,
169. Rivere.

· '..:
· \ .:

187. Rn.in.

/

•
430
190.
191.
192.
193.

LIST OF SUBJECTS;

LIST OF SUBJECTS.

To-morrow.
The Russian Empire.
The Ocean.
True roliteness.
19-l. Ice bergs.
195. The Pearl Fishery.
196. Enrly Piety.
197. 'l'he Arctic Regions.
198. The Wrongs of the lndinn.
1!)9. Egyptlnn Pyrnmids.
200. Government.
201. l\fonufacturcs.
202. Character of the Ancient l~ om nns.
203. The Inlluence of Woman.
204. The Schoolmaster Abroad.
205. The Pleasures of Memory.
206. Humility.
207. Natural History.
208. Music.
209. The Hypocrite.
210. The Art of Composition.
211. The lmisible World.
212. Poetry.
213. Man's True Greatness.
214. Virtue.
215. Vice.
21G. The Sabbath.
217. Jealousy.
218. The Fifth Commandment.
219, A Volcanic Eruption.
220. Oriental Countries.
221. Deserts.
222. Egypt.
223. The Mohnmmednn Religion.
224. Paganism.
225. lndnstry.
226. Idleness.
227. Flattery.
228. Intemperance.
229. Excelsior.
230. Courage.
231. Duplicity.
382. Early Impressions.
233. Perseverance.
234. Silent Cities.
235. Riches and Poverty.
236. Eloquence.
2:J7. The Miser.
238. Fireside Angels.
239. Conscience and Law
240. Taste.
241. Tyrnnny.
2,12. Smuggling.
243. Tho Evils of Extravagance.

244. The Inquisition.
2-IG. Rc\'cngr.
246. The Attraction of Grrn·itatlon.
2-l7. The Tempter and the Tempted.
248. Th e Art of Writing.
249. Advantages of Studying the ()lassies.
250. Femr•lEI Charncter.
251.-Knowlodgo is Power.
252. The Trinls of tho Teacher.
253. The l\Iarch of Intellect.
254. Tim Revival of L earning.
2[;5. Gratitude.
2tiG. l\[odcst.y.
257. Benevolence.
258. Genius.
259. The Power of Conscience.
260. The Orator.
261. Aristocracy.
262. Ancient Travellers.
2()3. Dreams.
264. Mngic nnd l\Ingiclans.
26ti. Twilight.
266. Horace and bis Friends.
267. Formality.
268. The Rhine.
2G9. J,cgendnry Poetry.
270. Clemency.
271. Pnrcntnl Affection.
272. Tho Spirit of Song.
273. IloJle.
274. Where is thy Home?
275. Love.
2 76...]f orgi ven ess.
277. Enrth's Benefactors.
278. P easant Life.
279. The Power of Association.
280. Missionary Enterprise.
281. The Lord's Prayer.
282. Th e Jews.
283. Tho End not yet.
284. 'l' he Feudal System.
285. Th e Progress nf Civilization.
286. Th o Dark Ages.
287. Monastic Institutions.
288. Genero...,ity.
289. The Hermit.
290. Philanthropy.
291. Th e Good P art.
292. Patriotism.
293. Freedom.
294. Th e Fourth of July.
295. Honor.
•1
296. A Republican Government.
29T. Old things hnn: pn!'SCd nway.

•

298. Hero-worship.
209. The True Hero.
300. Happiness.
301. Sources of a Nation's Wealth.
302. The English Nob le.
303. Commerce.
304. The Art of Painting,
305. "Let th ere be Light."
306. Early Rising.
307. Candor.
308. Dissipntlon.
:JO!J. The Proselyting Spirit.
310. Envy.
311. The Evils of Anarchy.
312. College Life.
313. Cheerfulness.
314. Fashion.
315. The Uses of Biography.
316. Party-spirit.
317. Atheism.
318. Polytheism.
819. Physical Education.
320. The Opening of Japan.
321. Pastoral Poetry.
322. Election-Day.
323. Tho Plcnsnres of the Antiquarian.
324. The Ilackwoodsmnn.
325. Punctuality.
326. The Great West.
327. Cruelty to Animals.
328. Curiosity.
329. Foppery.
330. Concentration ofiiflnd.
331, Gardening.
332. Christmas Day.
333. Modern Delusions.
· ,,;1i
334. Young Am erica.
,
335. The l\Jultlpllcatlon of Books.
336. The Phllosopbet's St<1ne.
387. Poetesses of Ancient Greece.
338. The In sol~nce of Office.
339. Authorship.
340. Affoctntion.
341. The Stnndnrd of Taste.
342. Tho l\lind.
343. The Stoic Philosophy.
844._.::flic Druma.
345. The Bulwarks of Despotic Power.
31G. :Eden.
347. Nature nncl Art.
348. The True.
849. The Good.
350. The Ludicrous.
851. Epicurus and hiR Followers.

431

352. Reformation.
353. The Freedom of the Press.
354. The Present.
355. The Past.
856. The Fnturo.
357. Rome under Augustus.
358. Criticism.
359. Silent Inflnencc.
360. The Immortality of the Soul.
361. Martyrdom for Truth.
362. The Monuments of Antiquity.
363. Tho Power of Verse to Perpetuate.
364. Rome was not built in a Day.
365. The First Stroke is Half the Battle.
366. Make Hay while the Bun shines.
367. Order Is Needful for Improvement.
368. Resist the Beginnings of Evil
369. Necessity ls the Mother of Invention.
370. A Soft Answer tnrneth away ·Wrath.
371. Familiarity begets Contempt. ·
372. Refinement, a National Benefit.
3i3. A Rolling Stone gathers no Moss.
374. Only a Fool turns aside to Deceit.
375. Avoid Extremes.
376. Cast not Pearls before Swine.
377. Study to mind your own Business. :
878. Hunger ls the B est .Sance.
379. Fools make a Mock of Sin.
380. A Fault confessed is half redressed.
381. Necessity .bas no Law.
382. Tho Face ls an Index of the Mind.
383. Science, the Handmaid of Religion.
384. Fortune favors the Brave. ·
385. Love thy Neighbor as thyse1£
.. ,.
386. Many Men of Many Minds.
387. Opportunity makes the Thie£
388. What can't be cured mnst be endured.
389. Grasp All, lose All.
390. New Brooms eweep Clean.
391. Wh ere there's a Will there's a Way.
392. The Race is not to the Swift.
393. The Burnt Child dreads the Fire. ·
394. Good Wine needs no Bash.
395. Time brings All Things to Light. ·
396. Look before you leap.
397. It never rains but it pours.
3!J8. Out of Delit out of Danger.
399. Whatever is, is right.
400. Political Parties at Athens in tho
Time of Demosthenes.
_
401. The Literary Character of J ullus Cresnr.
402. Influence of Shakspeare's . Plays on
Popular Estimation of Historical
Ubnractcrs.

L

f

•'I

-.
.,..

... f

432

LIST OF SUBJECTS.

403. Tho Nobility anrl Responsibility of
tlrn Tencher's Yocntlon.
404. Inrlependenco of Thought in America.
405. Great Men, ns Types and as lndiYidunls.
406. Th e Love of Money, tho Root of All
Evil.
407. By Others' Faults Wise Mnn correct
their own.
408. The Perfection of Art is to conceal
Art.
409. A Bird in the Hand is Worth Two in
tho Bush.
410. Economy, th e Philosopher's Stone.
411. Many a Slip 'twixt th e Cup and the
Lip.
412. Treason docs never prosper.
413. Honesty Is the best Poli cy.
414. Great talk ers, little doers.
415. Decision of Character.
416 National Prejudice.
417. Horrors of Civil War.
418. The Passion for Dress.
419. Our Duties ns Citizens.
420. Never too old to learn.
421. Contrivance proves Design.
422. The Necessity of Relaxation.
423. Example, Better than Precept..
424. P opular Clamor.
425. The Dress is .not the Man.
426. Herculaneum and Pompeii.
427. Contemplation.
428. Nature, tho Source of Poetic Inspiration.
429. The Conflict of Duties.
430. Infirmities of Men of Gen! us.
465.
466.
467.
468.
469.
470.
471.
4i2.
473.
474.
475.
476.
477.
4i8.
479.
480.
481.

431. The Antcrllluvinns.
432. 'l'h e In grntiturle of Republics.
433. Domestic Life of tho Ancient Greeks.
434._§ir Wolter Rnleigh and his Age.
435. l'oliticnl Economy.
436. The Fate of Reformers.
437. Idolatry.
438. Evidences of Revealed Reli gion.
439. The Pleasures of Im agination.
440. Comparison of Classical with Modern
Literature.
441. The Decline of the Roman Empire.
4<12. Literary Empiricism.
443. The Examples of Great Men.
444. Bacon and Aristotle:
445. Speculation in Philosophy.
446. Fanaticism.
447. Progres~ versus Ct•nscrvatlsm.
448. Radicalism.
449. Intellectual Excitements.
450. Mesmerism.
451 . P sychology.
452. Spiritualism.
453. The Force of Prejudice.
454. The Moral Sublime.
455. The Moral Beautiful.
4fi6. Pe.rrnanence of Literary Fame.
457. Roman Eloquence.
458. Grecian Mythology.
459. The Scholar's Hope.
460. American Literaturo.
461. The Tendency of American Instltu •
tions.
462. The Re volutionary Spirit.
463. Romance of the America n Revolution.
464. Magazin e Literature.

The Satisfaction resulting from a Conscientious Discharge of Duty.
The Necessity for Conventional L aws and Forms in Society.
The Fatal Results arising from an Early Neglect of the Mental Powers.
Tbe Folly of expecting too much from our Fellow-creatures.
The Duty of Patient Resignation to Misfortun es.
The Necessity of Examining into our Secret Motives of Action.
The Advantages to be derived from an Acquaintance with Modern Languages~ ,·~
The Difficulty of Conquering Bad Habits.
·
The Happy Results arising from the Cultivation of Tasto.
The Soothing Power of Music.
Th e Importance of early cultivating the Affections.
Th e Beneficial Effects of Constant Intercourse with our Fellow-creatures.
Charity, an Essenti al Part of True I~cligion.
Religious Enthusiasm, frequently rna<le a Ma>k for the Basest Purposes.
Tho Danger of forming Hasty Judgments.
The Importan ce of an Early Observance of Religious Dut.ics.
r.
The Folly of devoting- too much 'l'irno to Accomplishments.

LIST OF SUBJECTS.
482. The Feelings with which we should regard Death.

:(33

.
The Danger of lndulglug in a Habit of Exaggeration.
The Possession of a Lively Imagination, a ·Great Misfortune.
The Necessity of repressing Idle Curiosity In Youth.
The Wisdom of not giving Free Expression to all our Thoughts.
The Folly of blinrlly following the Judgment and Opinions of Others.
·~ he Vanity of Human Grandeur.
4$9. !{eJigion, aH a civilizing Agent.
490. The Danger of becumi n~ too much addicted to the Pleasures of the World.
491. Our Duties to our Inferiors.
·
.
492. The Folly of striving to please every o~e.
493. Innovation, ns regardecl by the·Yunng and by the Old.
49!. The :rospccts of a Young Proressional Man In the United States.
49L>. Reading, a Means of Intellectual Improvement.
496. The Use and Abuso of Worlrlly Advantages.
497. Life is Short nnrl Art is long.
498. No one lll'cs for himself alone.
499. lnrlepeml encc must hnve Limits.
' '' ·' '
500. Man anrl Govern'.11ent, as found in the Savage, the Pastoral, the Agricu1tili.a1 and
the Commercial, State.
'
' ·'
'
501. How far the Right should be controlled by the Experllent.
•1 ·
502. Color, as an Element of Beauty.
503. Poetry, Painting, Architecture, and Sculpture, as Means of Refining Taste.
504. The Good and Bad Effects of Emulation.
·
505. The. Influence of Greek, Latin, .l!'rencb, and English, Literature, on Taste.
li06. Ancient and Modern Notions of Liberty.
507. Personal Beauty, Rank, and Wealth, as PMsports In Society.
508. The Study of Logic, as a Mental Discipline.
509. The res~ectlve Effects of Agriculture and Manufactures on tbe Morals of the Community.
·
510. An Old and a New Country, as Fields of Enterprise.
bll. Patron.age, Emulation, and Personal Necessity, as Promotive of Literary Exertion.
M2. The Y1ews taken of a Nation by Itself and Others.
513. Ancient and Modern Views of Death.
l>14. The Comparative Influence of Ind! vi duals and Learned Societies In forming the
Literary Cl!aracter of a Nation.
'
.·r •
515. Proofs afforded by Astronomy of an intelligent Creator. ·
516. Beware of desperate ,llteps ; the da1·kest day,
Live till to-morrow, will have passed away.
\
1517. There's a . Divinity that shapes our ends,
·
Rough hew them how we may.
1518. Health is the vital principle of bliss.
. 1519. Heaven from all creatures hides the book of fate.
520. Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home,
li21. Th ~ bolt thnt strikes tl!e towering cedar dead,
Oft passes harmless o'er the hazel's heud.
Who by repentance ls not satisfier],
13 nor of Heav~n, nor earth.
li23. Honor and shame from no condition rise:
Act well your part; there all the honor lie!l.
624./ Good name, In man or woman,
··
Is the lmmet)illb:i .jewel of their sm1ls:
483.
484.
485.
486.
487.
488.

!9

•
434

LIST OF SUBJECTS.

li25. Sweet are the uses of adversity.
526. Justice may sleep, but never dies.
527. Man yields to custom as be bows to fute;
In all things ruled-mind, body, and estate.
528.
Experience is the school
Where man learns wisdom.
529. All ls not gold that glitters.
530. One to-day ls worth two to-morrows.
:>31. Birds of a feath er flock together.
1\32.
All tho world's a stage,
And nil the men and women merely players.
ARGUMENTATIVE

533.
5.34.
535.
536.

TABLE OF ABBREVIATIONS. ·

DISCOURSES.

Was Napoleon greater in tho field than in the cabinet?
Is conscience in nil cases 11 correct moral guide?
Do inventions improve the condition of the laboring classes?
Is the expectation of reward n greater incentive to exertion than the fear of
punishment?
537. Would it be right for Congress to pass an international copy-right law?
538. Is it expedient for Congress to pass an international copy-right law?
539. Is the penal transportation of convicU! as effective in preventing crime as solitary
confinement?
540. Is the country a better place for a University than n large city?
541. Are increased facilities of intercourse with Europe an advantage to us?
542. Has popular superstition a favorable effect on a nation's literature?
543. Do savage nations possess a right to the soil?
544.. , Ought capital punishment, ns n matter of right, to be abolished?
545. Ought capital punishment, ns a matter of expediency, to be abolished?
046. Is the mind of woman inferior to that of man?
547. Is It expedient that a new version of the Bible should be made?
MS. Is the pen mightier thnu the sword?
549. Has increased wealth 11 favornble effect on the mornls of a people?
550, Is 11 nation's literature affected by Its furm of government?
551. Ought there to be a property qualification for suffrage?
552.Does tho study of the classics afford better discipline to the mind than that of
mathematics?
553. Is truth Invincible, if left to grapple with falsehood on equal terms?
554. Is a monarchy the strongest and most stable form of government?
555. Is it beneficial to n country to ha-ve a union between Church and State?
556. Did the Crusades have n beneficial Influence on Europe?
557. Is a man justified in obeying a law of his country which he feels to be morally wrong t
558. Is It best for judges to be elected by the people?
559. Do the learned professions offer as promising an opening to a young man as mer·.
can tile life?
1560. Had the Olympic and other games a favorable effect on the ancient Greeks?
561. Is the existence of political parties beneficial to a state?
562. Do parents exorcise a greater influence than teachers In forming the character ot .
the young?
·
563. Is a general war In Europe favorable to the lnteresU! of America?
564. Does climate have any effect on the character of a nation?
565. Is a lawyer justified in defending 11 bad cause?
~66. \Doee tbe pulpit afford a better field for eloquence than the bar?

A., acre or acres.
Art., Article.
A A. B., Academia America11a &cius
Bee., Assistant Secretary.
·
Assist.
Fellow of the American Academy
'
A. B., Artium BaccalaureU8, Bach~lor of A. B. S. U., American Sunday School unlon. ·
Atty., Attorney. Attys., Attorneys. .
Arts.
Atty.-Gen., Attorney-GeneraL·
A. B. C. F. M., American Board of. ComA. U. C., anno urbu conditce, in the year
missioners for Foreign Missl<ms.
after the building of the city.
A. C., ante Ohristum, before Christ.
.
Aug., August.
Acct., acoount.
Auth. Ver., Authorized Version.
A. D., anno Domini, In the year of our B., Book or Books.
Lord.
B. A., Baccalaureus .Artium, Bachelor or
Ad lib., ad libitum, at pleasure.
Arts.
Adj., adj ective.
B. A., British America.
Adjt., Adjutant.
Bar. or bl., barrel.
Adjt.-Gcn., Adjutant General.
Bar., Baruch.
Admr., Administrator.
Dart., Baronet.
Admx., Administratrix.
B. C., before Christ.
Adv., ndverb.
B. D., Baccalaur6'U8 Divinit,aUs, Bachelor .
.LEt., mta tis, of age.
of Divinity.
.
." • ,
A. & F. Il. S., American and Foreign Bible Bonj., Benjamin.
;
' ..
Society.
B. L., Baccalawreus Legum, .Bachelor or
Agt., agent.
Laws.
.: . . . ·, J , : • •
Ala. or Al., Alabama.
Bis. or bbl., barrels.
· .
Aid., Alderman or Aldermen.
B. M., Baccalaur11us M11tUcin~ :Bachelor
Alex., Alexander.
of Medicine.
.
·
, ., . , , ,
Alt., altitude.
B. M., British Mall.
.
· .·. 1 . .. · '
A. llI., Artium .Jfagister, Master of Arts.
B. M. or Brit. 1Mus., British Muse~- '
A. M., anno mundi, in the year of the Bp., Bishop.
·
world.
B.
R,
Banco
Regis,
King's
Ben~h.
A . M., ante meridiem, morning.
Br., brig.
Am., American.
Brig., Brigade; Brigadier.
_.
Amer., America.
Brig.-Gen., Brlgadler-GeneraL
,
And, Andrew.
Bro., Brother. Bros., Brothers.
.. ! .
Anon., anonymous.
Bu., bushel or bushels.
. ,,
Ans. or A., answer.
B. V., Beata Virgo, Bl.eased Virgin. :- .'.' \
Anth., Anthony.
Cret. par., cmteris paribus, other things
Apoc., Apocalypse.
being equal.
.
Apr., April.
Cal., Oalenda;, the Calends,
·
,' , Arch., Archibald.
Cal., California.
Arcbb. or Apb., Archbishop.
Can., Canada.
Ark., Arkansas.
Cap. or r., caput, chapter:

437:·

ABBREVIATION fl.

436

ABBREVIATIONS.

D. C., District of Columbia.
Cnp., Capital. Unps., Capitals.
D. C. L., Doctor of Civil Law.
Cnpt., Cnpt.'\in.
D. D., Doctor of Divinity.
Capt.-Gen., Captain-General.
Den., Deacon.
Cnsb., Cashier.
Dec., December.
Ca th., Catharine; Catholk.
Deg., degree or degrees.
C. B., Companion of the Bath.
Del., Delaware.
C. C. P., C1•urt of Common Pleas.
Del., delineavit, drew. .
C. E., Cnnnda East.
De.m., Democrat.
Cf., confer, compare.
Dep., D eputy; Department.
Cb., ehaldron or cbaldrons.
Deut., D euteronomy.
Ch:, Church. Ohs., Churches.
Dft., Defendant.
Chane., Chancellor.
D. G., JJei Gratia, by tho grnco of God.
Chap., c., or ch., chapter.
Dist. Atty., District Attorney.
Chas., Charles.
Div., Division.
Chron., Chronicles.
Cl. Dom. Com., Clerk of the House of Do. or ditto, the snme.
Doll., dollnr. Dolls., dollars.
Commons.
Doz., dozen.
Cid., cleared.
D. P., Doctor of Philosophy.
Co., County; Company.
Dr., dear; drnchm or dracbms.
Coch., cochleare, u spoonful.
Dr., Doctor; Debtor.
Col., Colleoa, Colleague.
D. V., J)eo volente, God \\'illing.
Col., Colonel ; Colossians.
Dwt., pennyweight.
Cold., colored.
E ., East.
Coll., Collegimn, College.
Com., Commodore; Committee; Commis- Eben., Ebenezer.
Eccl., Ecclesiastes.
sioner.
Eccles., Eccleeinsticus.
Com. Arr., Committee of Arrangements.
Ed., Editor; Eds., Editors.
Comdg., Commanding.
Edin., Edinburgh.
Comp., Company (Military).
Edit. or Ed., edition.
Comp., compare.
E (ltD., Edmund.
Com. Ver., Common Version.
Edw. , Etlward.
Conj., conjunction.
E. E., errors excepted.
Conn. or Ct., Comie.cticut.
E. E., ell or ells English.
Const., Constable; Constitution.
E. F l., ell or ells Flemish.
Contr., contrnction.
E . F r., ell or ells French.
Cor., Corin thlnns.
E. G. or ex. g., exempli gratia, for example.
Cor. Sec., Corresponding Secretary.
E. I., East Indies.
C. P., Common Pleas.
Eliz., Elizabeth.
C. P., Court of Probate.
C. P . S., Oustos Privati Sigilli, Keeper of Eng., England.
Engd., engraved.
the Privy Seal.
C. R., Oustos Rotulorum, Keeper of the Ep., Epistle.
Eph., Ephraim; Ephesians.
Rolls.
E. S., ell or ells Scotch.
Cr., Cre<lltor.
Esq., Esquire. Esqrs., Esquires.
C. S., Court of Sessions.
E sth., E sther.
C. S., Custos Sigilli, Keeper of the Seal.
Et al., et alibi, and elsewhere; et alif.,
Ct., Count.
noel others.
Ct. or c., cent. Cts,, cents.
Etc., et croter·i-ro-a., and so forth.
Curt., current (month).
Et seq., et sequentia, and what follows.
C. W., Canada W est.
Ex., Example.
Cwt., bnndred weight.
Exe., Exception.
D., day or days; dime or dimes.
Exec. or Exr., Executor.
D., denaritt8, a penny; dencwii, pence,
Exec. Com., Exccntlve Committee.
Dan., Daniel.

1·

Exocx., Executrix.
E.'"iod., Exodru!.
Ezd., Ezdrn.
Ezek., Ezekiel.
Fa hr., Fahrenheit.
F. A. S., Fellow of the Antiquarian Society.
Fnlh., folho1'n or fathoms. ·
F. D .• Fidei JJefensor, Defender of tho
Faith.
F eb., February.
1''. E: S., .Fellow of tho Entomological Society.
F. G. 8., F"'llow of the Ge.ologlcal Society.
F. II. S., Fello\V of tbe llortlcullural Society.
Fi g., figure or figurns.
Fir., firkin or firkins
Fla., Flor., Florida.
F. L. S., Fellow of the Llnnrean Society.
F. M., .fiat m·W:fora, let a mixture be made.
Fol., r... , or f., folio or folios.
Freel., Frederick:
F. R. S., Fellow of the Royal Society.
F. S. A., :Fellow of the Society of Art.~.
Ft. or f. , foot or feet.
,.
I<ur., furlong or furlon gs.
Fut., Fnture.
Gn., Georgia.
Gal., Galatians.
Gol., g·i ll on. Gnls., gallons.
G. B, G reat Britain.
G. C. B., Grnnd Cro~s of tho Bath.
Gen., Gcnernl; Genesis.
Gent., Gentleman.
G eo., George.
Gov., Governor.
Gov.-Gl'n., Governor-General.
G. R., GeorufaB RWJ, King George.
Gr., grain or grains.
Guin. or G., guinen or guineas.
H. or hr., hour or houri;.
llab., Ilabnkkuk.
Hag., Hnggol.
H.B. M., His or H er Britannic Maj esty.
H eb., Hebrews.
Hd., hogshead. Jlhd., hogsh eads.
H. E. I. 0., Honorable Enstlnclla Company.
IL M., His or Her Majesty.
H. M. S., His or Her Majesty's Ship or Service.
.
Hon., H onorable.
Hon. Ge.ut., Honorable Gentl ernnn .
ilon. Mem., llonorable Member.
Hon. Sec., Honorary Secret3ry.

- '}
Hos., Hosea. .
II. P., half-pay.
ll. R. H., His Royal Hlghne&..,,
Hund., hundred or hundreds.
I., island. Is., Islands.
Ibid. or lb., ibidem, In the same place.
Irl., idem, the same.
I. e. , id est, that Is. ·
I . H. 8., Jesus Hominum Sal1Jator, JesWI
the Saviour of Men.
111., Illinois.
Imp., Imperfect.
In., Inch or Inches.
Incog., incognito, unknown.
Incl. or In., Indiana.
In Jim., in Umine, at the outset.
In Joe., in loco, In or at the place.
.
I. N. R. I., Jesus NazarenWJ . Re:o Judaorum., Jes us of Nazareth King of tho
J ews.
, , .
.
Ins., Inspector.
lnR.-Gen., Inspector General.
Inst., instant, of this month.
Int., interest; Interjection.
In trans., in traiuiitu, on the passage.
Io., Iowa.
l. 0 . 0 . F ., Independent Order of Odd Fellows.
Irreg., Irregular.
I En., I sninb.
Jan., J~nuary.
Jas., James.
J. D., Jarv.m Doctor, Doctor of La"·s.
Ser., J eremiah.
Jno.1 John.
Jona., .ron a than.
Jos., Joseph. ·
•'
Josh., Joshua.
J.P., Justice of the Peace.
.Juel., Judith.
.T udg., Judges.
Judg. Aclv., Judge Advocate.
Jun. or Jr., Junior.
Just., Justice.
J. V. D., Juris utriusque ])actor, Doctor of each Law (of the Canon and the
Civ il Lnw).
, ..
Kan., KansRB.
IC. B., King"s Bench.
K. B., Knight of' the Bath.
K. C., King's Counsel.
·
K. C. B., Knight Commander of the Bat~
Ken. or Ky., Kentucky. ·
.
i K. G., Knight of the Garter.
0

·'

I

I

I
I
1.

I

I(

I'..

- ----

•
438

ABB RE VIA TIO NB.

Md., Mnryland.
Kil., kllderkin or kilderklns;
Me., Maine.
K. M., Knight of Malta..
Mem., memento, remember ; memoranK. P .• Knight of St. Patrick.
dum.
K. T., Knight of the Thistle.
J\le::13rs., JJfessieiirs, gentlemen.
Kt. or Knt., Knight.
Mic., Micah.
L., line.
Mich., Michi gan ; Michael.
La., Louisiana.
Mid., Midshipman.
·
Lam., Lamentntlons.
Miss., Mis~l ss ippl.
Lat., latitude.
Mo., Missouri.
Lb., pound or pounds (weli:;bt).
Mo., month. Mos., months.
L. C., Lower Canada.
M. P ., Member of Parliament.
L . D ., Lady Day.
M. P ., Member of l'olice.
Ld., Lord. Ldp., Lordship.
Mr., Mister.
L eng., lea .. or l., lengne or leagues.
M. R. A. S., Member of the Royal Asiatio
L. I., Long Island.
Society.
Lib. or I., liber, Book.
M. R. C. S., Member of the Royal College
Lieut., Lieutenant.
of Sargeons.
Lieut.-Col., Lien tennnt-Colonel.
M. R. I . A., Member of the Royal Irish
Lieut. Comdg., Lieutenant Commanding.
Academy.
Lient.-G cn., Licntenant-Genernl.
J\f rs., Mistress.
Lleu t.-Gov., Lieutenant-Governor.
MS., man11scriptmn, manuscript.
Liv., Liverpool.
LL. B., Legum Baccalaureue, Bach elor MSS., manuscripts.
Mus. D., Doctor of Music.
of Law s.
M. W., Most Worthy.
LL. D., Legm.t Doctor, Doctor of Laws.
N., North.
J,on. or Lond., London.
, N., note or notes.
Lon. or lon g. , longitude.
N. A., North America.
L. S., Lo01ts Sigilli, Place of the Sen!.
Nuh., Nahum.
Lt., Light.
Nath., Nathaniel.
Lt. In., Light Infantry.
N. B., nota /.,ene, mark well.
L XX., Septuagint (Version).
IN. B., New Brunswick.
M., mille, one thousand.
N. C., North Carolin!\.
M., m1inip ul1t.Y, a handful.
N. E., Now England.
M., met'idie, meridlnn, noon.
Neb., NebrnskR.
M., miHce, mix.
Neb., Nehemiah.
M., mile or miles.
\
\ Nem. con., nemine contradicente; Nern.
M. or Mons., .ilfQnsie1tr, Mr, Sir.
! cllss., nemine dis.~enUente, unanimously.
Mace., Maccabees.
N. F., Newfoundland.
Mag., :\1agn2'ine.
N. II., New II11mpshlre.
Maj., Major.
N. J., New J ersey.
Mnj.-Gen., Major-General.
NI., nail. Nls., nails.
Mal., Malachi.
N. M., New Mexico.
Man., Manl\SSeS.
N. 0., Ne w Orleans.
Mar., March.
No., nmnero, in number; number.
Mass. or Ms., Massachusetts.
Nos., numbers.
Math., l\fathemntlcs.
Nov., November.
Matt., Matthew.
y, B., l\Iedicinre Baccalaureus, Bachelor N. S., Nova Scotia; New Style.
N. T. or New T est., New Testament.
of Medicine.
M. n., JJiusir,ro Baccalaureus, Bachelor Num., Numbers.
N. Y., Ne w York.
of Music.
0 ., Ohi•.>.
~f. C., Member of Congress.
111. D., 1lfedici11m Dott01·, Doctor of l\11'lli- Ob., ol~iection.
()bad., Obn<liah.
. clnl.'.

,
I
I
I

ABBREVIATIONS.

Obt., obedient.
Oct., October.
Olym., Olympiad.
Or., Oregon.
0 . S., Old Style.
0. 'l'. or Old Test., Old Testament.
0. T., Oregon Territory.
0. U. A., Order of United .Americans.
Oxon., Oxford.
Oz., ounce or ounces.
l'., pago. Pp., pnges.
P., polo or poles.
P. rcq., partes aqua.les, equal parts.
Pnr., paragraph.
Part., partic!pJ.,
Pnyt., pnyment.
Pd., paid.
Penn. or Pa., Pennsylviinia.
Per an., par annum, by the year.
P crf., Perfect.
P et., P eter.
Ph. D., Philosophiw Doctor, Doctor of
Philosophy.
Phil., Philippians.
Phila. or Phil., Philadelphia:
Philem., Philemon.
Plnx. or pxt., pinwit, painted.
Plff., Plaintiff.
P. llf., Post Maste r.
P. M., post in~l'idi em, evening.
P. M. G., Post Master General
P . 0., Post Office.
Pop., population.
Prep., preposition.
Pres., President; present.
Prob., Problem.
Prof., Professor.
Prop., Proposition.
Prot., Protestant.
Pro tcm., pro tempore, for the time being.
Prov., Proverbs.
Prox., prOUJimo, of next month.
P.R. S., President of the Royal Society.
P. S., Post scriptum, Postscript.
P. S., Privy SeRI.
Ps., Psalm or Psalms.
Pt, pint. Pts., pin ta.
Pub. Doc., Public Docnments.
Pun., puncheon or puncheons.
Q., Queen.
Q. or Ques., Question.
Q., q1tadran~, farthir.g; quadrantes, farthings.
Q. B., Queen's Bl.'nch.

Q. a., Queen's Counsel
- ··
·· "
Q.E.D., quod crat denwn1.W.andum, which
was to be proved.
Q. E. F ., qu-1, erat /aclendum, which
was to be done.
Q. I. or q. p., quantum libet or placet, as
much as you p lease.
Qr., quarter.
Q. S., quantwn~ sujficit, a sufficient quan- .
tlty.
Qt., quart. Qt.s., quarts.
Qy., Query.
R., Rem, King ; Regina, Queen.
R., rood or roods ; rod or rode.
R. A., Royal Academician.
R. A., Royal Artillery. · · .·
R. A., Russian America. .
R. E., Royal Engineers.: r · <
Recd., Received.
': ·:
Rec. Sec., Recording Secretar;Y. ·
Rect., Rector.
Ref., Reformed; Reformation. ·
Reg., Register.
Regt., Regiment.
Rep., Representative. ·
Rev., Reverend; Revelations. ·
R. I., Rhode I sland.
Rlchd., RicbRrd.
R. M., Royal Mlrlnes.
R. N., Royal Navy.
Robt., Robert.
Rom., Roman; Epistie to tho Romans.
R. R., Railroad.
.• · '
R. S. S., Regiw &oletaUs Sool,iu, ' Follow
of the Royal Society.
,.
·nt. I-Ion., Right Honorable: . ··
Rt. Rov., Right Reverend. , . •
', · .
Rt. Wpful., Right Worshipful .·
· r
R. W., Right Worthy.
..,..,.,_,.,, 1
,.,,
S., South.
S., shilling or shillings.
S. or sec., second or seconds.
S. A., South America.
Sam., Samuel (Book of).
Sarni., Samuel.
S. A. S., 8ocietatis .Antiquarlorum &cius, Fellow of the Society of Antlqna•
rlans.
S. C., South Carolina.
Sc., sculpsit, engraved.
Sc., scruplo or scruples.
S. caps., small capitals.
Sehr., i'>chooner.
Seil., sc., c.r s., scilicet, namely.

-

-

440

ABBREVIATIONB.

Sec., Secretary.
Sect., sec., or s., section or sections.
Sen., Senior; Senate; Senator.
'
Sept.; September.
Serg., S<irge<mt.
Serg.-Mnj., Sergeant-Major.
Se.r vt. , ser rnnt.
S. J. C., Su prem e Judicial Court.
Sol., soluti on; Soloinon.
Sol, Solici tor.
Sol. Gen., Solicitor Gencrnl.
B. P. Q. R, Sena tus popnlu.sque R o11um1ui,
the Senate and people of Rome.
Sq. m., square mile or miles.
S. S., Sunclny School.
B. S., sequentia, what follows.
Bl, Suint; street.
S. T. D., Sanctro 1'heolooire D octor, Doctor of Divinity.
Ster., Sterling.
S. T. P., SI.metre 1'heolo(JWJ 1'1·oje.Yso1',
Professor of Divinity.
S. T. T. L., !fit tib i terra levis, may th e
e.qrth be li ght to thee.
Snp., Supplement; Supernumerary.
Burg., Surgeon.
Surg.-Gen., S urgeon.General.
Sus., Susannah.
T., ton or tons.
T enn., T ennessee,
T ex., Texas.
T ext. Rec., Tl>t;etUB Receptus, th e Received
T ext.
Theo., Th eodore.
Theor., Tbeorem.
Thess., Th essalonians.
ThOfl., Thomas.
Tier., tlerco or tiorccs.
Tim., Timothy.
Tit., Titus.
T. 0 ., turn over.
Toh., Tobit.

•

Tr., transpose.
Tr., Trustee. Trs., Trustees.
Trnn s., t:rnnslation ; trnnslator.
'l'rcn.i:J., TrrA.."ttrer.
U. C., Upper Cnnada.
U. E. I. C.. United Enst In dia Com pany.
U. J . C., UtrinRque Juri B Doctor, Doct01
of each J,a.w (Canon and Ci vil).
U. K., United Kin~d o m .
Ult., ultimo, nf Inst mon th.
Unh-., University.
U.S., Unite<\ Slntcs.
U.S. A., United Stntes of America.
U. S. A., United Stales Army.
U.S. ~L, United States Mail.
U. S. N., Un ited States Niwy.
V. or vid ., vide, sec.
Va., Virginin.
Ver. or v., verse or "l'Crsos.
Vers. , vs., or v., versuR, n.gain st.
V. g., ve1·ui (l?"nlia, for example.
Viz., videlicet, namely.
Vol. or v., Yolume. Vols., volumes;
V. Pres. or V. P., Vice President.
V. R, Victoria R eoina, Queen Victoria.
VL, Verm ont.
W., W est.
W. f., wrong font.
W. I ., West I ndies.
Wis., Wi sconsin.
Wi sd., Wisdom (Book of).
Wk. or. w., week.
Wm., William.
W. 'I'., Wnshlngton Territory.
WL, w eight.
Xmn8., Christmas.
Xn., Christian,
Xnty., Christinnity.
Xt., Christ.
Yr., year. Y rg., years.
&c., et creter-i-re-a, nnd so forth.

~.. ~

. ·.

INDEX.
.,··

A.
A bl1 rc1Jia tio1M, to be follo wed by peri ods,
89. Tablo of, 435.
Abr·id(lin(J, in what it consists, 346.
Accent (character), acute, whet'<.' used, 149.
Grave, where used, 149. Circumllex,
wh ere nsecl, 149.
.A. ccent (stress of th,, YO!c<'), tendency to
throw it back In polysyllables, 60. In
poetry, constitutes length, 403.
Arln.ge, the, 345.
.
Addison, his illustrntion of delicacy of
taste, 175. His sty le, 264.
Adjectives, origin of, 30. Definition of, 63.
Adjunct, defi nition of, 69.
A dverbs, origin of, 32. Definition of, 64.
When misplaced, are often a source of
obRcu'rity, 286.
Au1·eeabieness, held by some to constitute
beauty, 215.
Alermindrine, the, of what It consist!, 411.
Where uoed, 411. Too r.urubrous for an
entire piece, 412.
A u .,·on, his view of taste, 171.
Alleoory, what it Is, 248.
.AlluBionB, often form pleasing introductions, 332.
.Alphabet, derivation of the word, 24. The
l'hrenlcian, supposed to have·· been derivecl from the H ebrew, 27. Th e Greek,
and ia c!erh·atives, 28. Th e Latin, derh- ed from the Greek, 28. The English,
derived from the Latin, 28. Number
of letters In differe nt alphnbets 29.

19•

'

"'

Ambiguity, in what it consists, 285. A
fault of frequent occurrence, 290. It!
commonest vnrietle~, 290.
.A mph-ibr;ich, the, 408.
.Amphimacer, the, 403.
Amplijication, in what It consls!.8, 329.
Of defi nitions, 333. Of arguments, 333.
.Analogy, argument from, 333.
AnnlyBiB, of subjects, 326-328. . Should Invariably be drawn up, 329,
.Ann.pest, th e, 403.
Anecdote, the, ll70.
Angles, the, unite<l with the Saxons In lnvnding England, 44 • . Who they were,
44. Outnumbered by tho Saxons on the
continent, 45. Gave their name to Britain, ·
44,4.'>.
I
Anglo-Saroon. Lanuua(le, an offshoot of
. Gothic, 46. Modl.tl.ed but little . by the
Danish Invasions, 47. Changes by which
it was converted into English, 61.
A n tibacchius, the, 408.
.A.nticlimaro, 251.
A n tithesis, 250. Used In Proverbs, 2.'11.
Often employed In iiarnllols, 848.
.A phroresii<, 236•
.Aphorism, the, 345.
.A pocope, 286.
. ... ·,
.Apolo(Jue, the, 339.
1'
Apophallis, 2li2.
.Apophtlt<'(Jm, the,. 845.
Apostrophe, meaning of tbe word, 142.
Form and position ' of the character so
cnllecl, 142. Rulas for the, 142. Wl!en
used to denote the omission .or letters,

- 442

142. Used to form the plural of !titters,
&c., 143. Th e fi gure so called, 250.
Appeal to the f eelin(!B, in an argumentative
discourse, 389.
.A rchaiBm, 236.
.A 1·uument, what It Is, 354.
Ar(l1tm enta tive D iscourBe, th e, 3~5. F orma! divisions of, 385.
.Ar(lmnents, proper arrangement of, 389.
.A1'istotle, bis rulQ8 for unity of action, 169.
Armo1'ican Laiioua ue, its wonderful resemblance to Welsh, 38.
.A1·t, lls rnlntion to science, 165.
Art'icle, the, definiti on of, 63. Th o d~flnlte,
63. The indefi nite, 63.
A ssociation8, Instrum ental In Increasi ng
th e pleasures of the Imaginati on, l 86.
l'ersonal, 187. National, 187. Histori cal,
187. Source of sublimity In sounds, 200.
Source of beauty In so unds, 223.
A8terisk, th e, wh ere u sed, 151.
.A 8teri.wn, th e, wher e used, 150.
.A ~yndet or, 294.

n.
B a.cchius, th e, 403.
B allad, the, dt<fined, 422.
Bm,.barisms, of what the.y con ~l st, 271.
B a ttleB, rnblim e descripti ons of, 202.
B eauty, character of th e emotions lt e~ cites, 214. Variety of its applicatio11s,
215. Th eories as to its source, 215.
Color, one of !t.s chief element•, 21G.
Uegularity of figure, one of Its elc m ~ nt s,
217. Hogarth 's line of, 217. Smoothness, essential to it, 218. Gentle motion,
nn element of, 218. Smallness and delicacy, elements of, 219. Design, a sour.ce
of, 219. Moral beauty, 221. B eauty of
th e human countenance, 221; depends
mainly on the expression, 222. Beautiful sounds, 223. The beautiful In writing,
223.
B elles -lettres, Its m eaning In the French
lnngunge, 166. Its general acceptation
In E11gllsh, 107.
Bible, sublimity of th e, 210.
Biooraphy, wh at It is, 369. Style appropriat.e to, 369.
Blank Verse, a favorable medium for expressin g sublime Idea•, 212. Of what It
co nsists, 412. Th e most elevated of nil
m easures, 412. Most difficult to wri te,
412.

4i3

.IND:!l:X.

INDEX.

I Bombast, 213.
B1·ace, the, for what med, 151.
Brackets, for what they are used, 139, 140.
H ow to punctuate matter within brackets, 140.
·
Bretaune, tradition r especting its settle·
ment, 39.
B reve, th e, 150.
Britain, state of, before tlt n Roman conquest, 34. Setlled by Celt~, 35. German
colonies planted there at an early date,
42. Invasion of, by the Sa x o n ~, 43. Inv~i on of, by the D ane,, 46. Con qn c~t
of, by th e Normans, 48.
·
B1wlesque, a species of "·it, 227. A burlesque, wh at it I>, 421.
Bur letta, th~, defin ed, 421.

c.
Cadence, of p eriods, 303.
Cridmus, the introducer of letters Into
Greece, 25.
Cambrian, a branch of th e Celtic tonguo,
38.
Ca pitals, 74. Rules for, 74-78. Small,
78. Too free use of, to be av nlde<l, 78.
Wh en used for fi gures, to be followed by
periods, 89.
OaptionB, what they are. 155.
Ca ret, the, for what used, 152.
Ca tch-w01·d8, what they are, 155.
Cedilla, the , wh ere used, 152.
Celtic L011(lita(Je, the parent of many
ton gues, 36. An offshoot from th o Hebrew, or Ph renician, 37. Branches of,
38. Its p eculiar features, 39. Celtic of
Britain, how far modified during the
period of Homan supremacy, 40 ; superseded by Saxon, 44. English words derived from it, 55.
Characters, astronomical, 153.
Chattcer, writings of, 50.
Cicero, the most barmonlons of wrltors,
801.
Circmnlo<Yutions, indefinite, violate pre·
cision, 282.
Clarendon, the style of, often violates
unity, 311.
Olau8e, definiti on of, 69. Relative, 69. ·
l'articipial, 69. Ad verbial, 69. "Vocative,
70. Adjective, 70. Appositional, 70.
Causal, 70. Hypothetical, 70. Depenu·
cot, 70. Independent, 70. Vocative and

causal, never restrictive, 110. Participial, wh en restrictive, 111. .A.pposltlonnl, I'llle for punctuating, 118. Absolutr., to be set off by the comma, 116.
Clean1e8.•, ln what it consists, 284. In·
volves purity, proprie ty, and precision,
284. Fnults opposed to it, 284.
Climare., what It Is, 251. Derivati on of the
term, 251. C lim ax of soun11, 251.
Coinitt(l, of words, forbidden exrept to
those who are unfoldin g a new science,
272. Of compound words, 272.
Colloquialiwis, to be avoidea, 276.
Colon, dcrl rnlion of the word, 97. Its first
use, 07. Formerly much used, 97. Its
place at the present day usurped by the
5emicolon, 97. Rules for the, 97, 98, 99.
Wh en to be followed by a dash, 98.
Color, one of the chief eleme nt.s of beauty,
216. Peculiarities which enhance its
beauty, 216.
Comedy, defined, 420.
Comedy E 11olish, too often disgraced by
obscenity, 233.
Comma, meaning of the wwd, 104. Degr~e of separation It denotes, 104. Not
found In early manuscripts, 104. How
prev iously de noted, 104. General rule
for th e, 104. Special rules for the, 106126. Cautions in the uso of, 128. Not to
be introdu ced ~Imply because a sentence
ls long, 128. Not to be used after a grammatical subj ect when immediately follow ed by its verb, 128. Not to be u~ed
before and co nnecting two words on ly,
128. To be omitted when there Is doubt
as to the propriety of using It, 129.
(Jommn11 icatio11, media of, 13.
Compo.9itio11, successive steps of, 329. The
art defin ed, 348.
Com position H, revision of, 334. Suggestions as to th e correction of, 335.
Conci.•enesB, eose ntial to snblimlty in writing, 207. Cnrried to excess, produces
obscurity, 266.
Cv11junction8, origin of, 82. D efinition of,
64. List of, 64.
Connection of w01·ds, cla11aeB, and m emberB, general principles relating to the,
87, 88.
Contra.9t, a, heightened Ly a rese mbl ance
in language a nd construction, 298.
Corr·espondettce epistolm·y, 856.
Ooum,tenance, beauty of the, 222.

19

- -...

Couplet, the, <Jf what It consists, 402. The
heroic should hav-0 complete sense with- .
In Itself, 411. Delights In antitheses, 411.
Cousin, his view of taste, 171.
C1·iticiBm, fatal to tho pleasures of tho
Im agination, 185. R eason why It Is seldom correct In the case of yonng persons, .185. Definition of, 318. Developed
the rules of rhetoric, &18. Beauty an<l
truth, Its objects, 819. Relation betwee n
lt.s ancient and its present character. 319.
Literary, 320; lt.s office, 320; should be
based on feeling as well as rules, 321 ;
abuse of, 321; objections to, 822 ; !ts
principles not arbitrary, 322.
Curiosity, a universal passion, 191.

D.
Dactyl, the, 403,
Dat·knesB, a soutee of sublimity, 197.
Dash, but lately Introduced, 181. Too
freely used at the present day, 131•
Rules for the use of, 181-134. When to
be used after other points, 132, 188..
When used to denote the omission of letters,· 142.
Dates,.J10w to be written ,.126.
Definitions, how they may be amplified,
3-33.

Delicacy, an element of beauty, 219.
Desc1·iption, In what It conslst.s, 848. Of
material objects, 349. .Of natural scenery, 350. Of persons, 851.
I>esiyn, an element of beauty, 219. Unity
of, essential to the efi'ect of a · composi·
·
tion, 22.0.
1JiaJ1·esis, the, for what used, 151. Meaning of the word, 152. : The figure l!(J
called, 236.
, .,. : ._ ·. '· ·
Diawuue, tho, 376. · Used · for the discussion of serious topics, 876. ·
Didactw Poetry, 428.
DiJfusenesB, too great, to be avoided, 266.
Dimeter, of what It consists, 404.
'
Diminu tives, origin of, 219.
Diso1·der, a source of sublimity, 198. ·'
Disqttisition, the, 380.
·· ·
DisBertation, the, 880;
Distich, the, what it I~, 402.
Divi sion, the, of an argumontath·e d.lacoursc, 387.
Division-MarkB, 150.
Double Comma, the, for what used, 152.
Double Daooer, the, 151.

't

-

444

INDEX.

Dramas, of wbat they consist, 877. Derivation of the term, 419. Division of.
into nets and scenes, 421.
D1·1111wtic Poetry, closely all!ed to Epic,
419 Three dramatic m.iti ~s, 420. L eading divisions of, 420.
Dramatists, the distl nguish erl, ofnntlqulty,
420. Th e distinguished, in modern literatures, 420.

E.

f.

i
i

r

-

. -==-

Eclo{!tte, the, 423.
Editorial, the, 380.
Elegiac Poett·y, of what lt treats, 423.
Ellipsis, matks of, 151. Th e figure so
called, 237. Improper, a cause of obscurity, 285.
Empha8i8-llflwks, 150.
Ems, what they are, 154.
Enallaoe, wl1at It Is, 238. Docs not jnsllry
a violation of syntactical rul es, 238.
Jtnolarul., fl corru ption of Angleland, 44.
Enolish Ln.ngunge, the, formati on of, 49.
First book in, 50. Its forms settled by
Wicliffe's translation of the Bible, 50.
Its Saxon derivatives, 52, 53. Its Norman French derivRtives, 53. Its modern
:French derivatives, 54. Its Latin derivatives. M. Its Celtic rlerlrntives, 55.
Its Greek derivatives, 56. Its miscellaneous elements, 56. Four fifths of Its
current words, of Saxon origin, 57. Its
characteristics, 57. Its orthography, 58.
Its sy nta ctical constrnction8, 58. Its variety, 58. Its poetical terms, 58. Its
strength, 59. Its flexibility , 60. Its harmony, 60. Its simplicity, 61.
Epic Poetry, of what it treal8, 418. Unity
of design, essen tial to, 418. Epic poems
of different languages, 419. Derivation
· of tbe term epic, 419. The plot of an
epic, what It should be, 419.
Epi{lram, the . defined, 423.
Epilo(Jtte, the, 421.
Episodes, what th ey are, 418.
Epitomiein(J, in what it consists, 346.
Epopea., the, 419.
Equiv~cation, in what it consists, 284. Varieties of, 289.
·
Erse Langitn (Je, a branch of Celtic, 38.
Essays, 379. Wide applicalion of tho
term, 379. Different classes of, 380.
Latitude allowed In th e <'onduct of, 380.
J!tymology, figures of, 236.

-

INDEX.

Exclamation (the figure), 2110.
E.ulamation-point, rules for the nee of
th e, 92-95. Does not always denote the
eamo degree of eepnr~tion, 93. Use of
more than one, 9.5.
Exordiwn, th e, 386.
Ex position, In whr.t it consists, 354.
E x pression, has rn uch to do with beauty
of countenance, 222.

F.
Fable, the, 339.
F11.1•ce, the, defined, 421.
F eet, what they ar<', 403. Enumern.tion
of, 403. Primary, 404. Secondary, 404.
Ficti011, what it is, 3i4. May be made
the vehicle of good or ev il, 375.
F ign1·t, regularity of, n sonrce of bennty,
217; not sy nonymous with srunC'ness, 217,
Fi(Jttre.•, what they are, 235. Four classes
of, 235. Of orthngrnphy, 235. Of etymology, 236. Of syntax. 237. Of rhetoric,
239, 246; origin of, 240; history of fignratirn langnnge, 241; mo~t used in the
early stages of society, 242; grow Jess
common ns a language progresses in refinement, 242; advnntnges accruing from
the uso of, 242-244; frequently convey
th e menn ing more forcibl y than plain
language, 244 ; mi es for the use or,
244-254; not nb~ olnt ely e8sential to
beaut.y of composition; 244; should not
be the chi ~f obj ect h nd In ,·iew, 255;
shouhl spring naturnlly from th e subject,
255; shoulcl not be used to excess, 255.
French La11(!Wl(Je, the sonrce of rnnny
English words, 54. Charncter of the, 59.
Its poetry, without rhyme, lndlstingulsh~
able from prose, 59.
Fri(Jidity, 213.
Frisian Lrr.n(Jua(Je, its resemblance to
English, 45.
F1'isimrn, rea5ons for supposing that they
engaged in 'the lnvn.sion of. Britain, 45.
Where they lived, 45.
Ft·ontispiece, the, 155.

G.
Gaelic, n brnnch of Celtic, 38.
Gallicisms, 273.
Gat·det!R, Chinese, 193.
Geni1M, cl!slinctlon between It and taste,
18 1, 182. Universal, 182.
Germanic Lan(J1lrF(JeS, offshoots of Gothic,
46.

Gestures, 14. Extent to which they were Humor, in whnt It consists, 231. Opposed to
carried on the ancient stage, 15. Decline
the pathetic, 232. Its ~ubjects, 232. Not
of th eir use, 16.
short-Jived, like wit, 232. Novelty not
Gothic Languaue, Its two great branches,
essentl!ll to It, 232. Enters Into every
46.
literature, 233. Carried to the greatest
Grace, Hogarth's line of, 217. What It
perfrction In Don Quixote,· ~S.'3. DisIs, 221.
tinction between It and ridicule, 233.
Grandettr, S<'e SubUmit!/·
Hymn, the, 422.
Greek Lrt11(!1ta(Je, the, English scientific Ilype1·ba ton., what it Is, .2?8. Enters largetC'rms borrowed from, 50.
ly into poetry, 238.
!Iype1·bole, what it 18, 249. Occurs in
II.
common conversation, 249. Has lL~ origin In liveliness of Imagination, 249.
Ilnrm.ony, In what it consists, 209. Words
Vl.)lent hyperbole, out of place in mere
to be avoidecl as inharmonious, 300.
descriptions, 259. May be so extravagant
Requires th e writer to avoid repeati ng a
as to render the writer rldlealou~, 259.
sound, 300. Requires him to avoid a
rnccession of words of th e Rame number Hyphen, derivation of the word, 143' What
it is used to denote, 143. Rules for Its
of sy llnblcs, 301. Depends on th proper
use, 143, 144. Somet!rnes employed Inarrangement of th e parts of a sentence,
stead of the direresis, 144.
301. Carried to greater perfection In th e
ancient langnnges than in ours, 801.
1.
Danger of paying too much attention to,
302. Requires that the fullest clauses Iambus, the, 403.
and mo>t sonorous words be reserved for Irlyl, the, 423.
th e closo of a sentence, 303. Highest Imaoery, or Vision, 250.
kind 01; consists In the adaptation of f'l!W(Jination, defin ed, 183. Pleasures of,
souncl to sense, 304.
183 ; process by which they are excited,
Ilead-Unes, what they are, 155.
183. Its exuberance In youth fatal to
IIebrew.•, their claim to th e im·ention of
sou ml criticism, 186. Its pleasures inJe!tNS, 26.
creased by lll!Soclatlons, 186. Has had
llm1istich, a, what it Is, 402.
much to do with the origin of figures,
I/e11gfrt nnd IIorsa, expcrll'.ion of, 42.
241. Vividness of, apt to betray tbe young
Il cngbt's stratagem fur procuring land,
Into too great floridity, 264.
43.
Imitation, fidelity ot; a source of pleasure
IIept1111uter, of what It consists, 404. The
to th e Imagination, 190. Servile, to be
regular ballad-measure of our language,
arnided, 316.
408. Oenernlly written in two lines, 408. Indea; or Hand, for what used, 150.
I!ei·oic Line, its character, 410. Used Induction, the process of, 333.
Most Infinitive ~food, when to be preceded by
in th e Spenserian stanza, 410.
commonly found In the form of the
the comma, 124.
·
couplet 411. Constitutes blank verse, Infinity, a source of sublimity, 196.
412.
Interjections, the first words, 29. DefiniIlexamete1·, of what it consists, 404.
tion of, 65. To be followed by exclamaIliero(ll?fphics, 21.
tion-points, 94.
Ili ndoos, their claim to the inyention of Interrogation (the figure), 250.
l?iterro(Jation-point, rules . for the, 91.
letters, 26.
Historians, of England, 368. Of America,
Docs not alway!\ denote the eame.degree
369.
·
of separation, 93.
Ilistory, a, what it is, 368. Essentials of a Int roduction, importance of an effect.Ive,
good hi story, 368. Style npproprinte to,
330. Varieties of, 831, 332. . Of nn argu369.
mentative discourse, 386; modesty, esIlo(Jai th, his line of beauty and line of
sent.!al to It, 387. Should be accommogrncc, 211.
dated to the discourse that Is to follow,
Uume, his view of taste, 170.
387.

r

.:,~

I"~ •

. ·~
/

lf
I

1

- -

•

,.

I

/

446

Invention, not a division of rhetoric, 1G4.

447i

INDEX.

INDJllX,
35S. Style of, 358. Anewrra to, 359.
l\fanunl execu tion of, 850. Date of, 359.
Addrcffi ot; 360. Subscription of, 361.
Folding a nd seal!ug of, 365. Superscrip·
tion of, 366.
Licenses, poetical, 401.

In what it consists, 325. The most dif·
ficult part of composition, 325.
Ireland, originally peopl~d by Carthagin·
ian colonies, 35.
Irony, 234, 252.
Ly1·ic Poet·r y, 421.
Italian Lan(!iut(!e, origin of the, 41.
Italic&, how indicated in manuscript, 154.
For what used, 154. Not to be too freely
lU.
employed, 154. Their use in the English
Bible, 154.
llfachine1·y, of nn epic poem, 419.
.Macron, th e, 150.
JJirt.dri(!al, the, 422.
J.
JJ!a1111 eri&m, what It is, 270. An excese
Jeib d e mot&, 230.
of it to be avoided, 216.
Jiistice, poetical, 420.
JJiareim, the, 345.
JJie11sw·es, d efined , 404. Varieties of, 404.
n:.
Iambic, 405; constitute the great body
Trochaic, 405;
of our poetry, 40G.
Kassiteride&, or Scilly I sles, intercourse
. adapted to gay and tender sentiments,
of the Phreniclans with the, 36. Peopled
406. Anapestic, 405; adapted to aniby Celts, 36.
mated sentimen ts, 406. Dactylic, 406;
rlifiicult to write, 407.
L.
JJielodrama, the, 421.
llietaplwr, what it Is, 248. The common·
Lampoon, th e, 423.
est of figures, 248. Should not be for·
Lan(!itrr(!e, spoken, 16; It.a ong1n, 17;
fetched, trite, obscure, or inappropriate,
th eories as to It~ origin, 18 ; the gift of
255. Metaphorical and plain language
Deity, 19. Written lan g110gc, 20; its
should nut be blended, 25S.
l\Iixed
different systems, 21. Th e Ph reni cian,
m etaphors, to be avoided, 259. Should
written fr om right to left, 28. Mode of
not b e carried too far, 2W.
writin g the Greek, 28. Gradual de·
velopment of a system of, 29. English, llietonymy, what it Jg, 240. Relnllons on
"·\Jich it Is found e<l, 24!l.
see Enolish Lan(!lW(!e. Irish, Sll i'll"sed
to ha Ye been derived from the l'hrenician, JJietre, long, 407. Common, 407. Short,
408.
35. Celtic, see Celtic Lan(!tt.a(!e. Effect
of climate and atmosph ere on , 38. Incli- Mi(fht, acti 1·ely exerted, the principal source
of the sublime, 195.
v idunl languages affected by the charac·
JJlimesis, 236.
t er of those who speak th em, 59.
Latinizin(!, of Johnson and his imitators, ltfoloswB, the, 403.
]Jfonomrter, of what It consists, 404.
55.
I
Latin Lanoua(!e, English wonls derived ]Jfotion, when gentle, sn elem ent of beauty,
218. When very swift, an <'lement of
from it, 54.
snblimity, 218. Often vividly represented
Leaders, 152.
In composition by peculiar combinations
L eads, what th ey are, 154.
of wor<ls, 306.
L etters (characters), In troil ucerl in to G rcece
by Cadmus, 25. First 1\ivlrled into dif· 1Jf1t&ic. effect of, incren.<ed by associations, ·
187, 200.
When beautiful, and when
forent classes by Thant, 25. Th eir In·
subllt.ne, 222.
ve.ntion attributed to Thaut hy Snncl10niath on. 25. Th e honor of l11clr inven·
tion claimed by the In <linn s, 26.
Letters (species of com position), 3(i5. N e'vs
356. Of business, 856. Omc!nl, 35G. Of Nm·i-ation, what it i~, 353.
fri endship., 357. Of co1Hlol cncc, 357. Of Na1'1'atiws, what they are, 367. Classel
of, 368.
congratulation, 857.
Of introdn ctiun,

1.

Natur~,

the productions of, a eource of
pleasure to the Imagination, 190.
Norman F 'rench, origin of, 41. First in·
troductlon of, Into England, under Edward the Confessor, 47. Made the court
langung.i under William the Conqueror,
48. Source of many English words, 53.
Notes, 366. Of In vltatlon, 366.
Noiins, origin of, 30. Definition of, 62.
Common, 62. Proper, 62.
.Novel, the, 375.
NoveU.11, a source of pleasure to tho imagination, 191. Diffclren t degrees of, 192.
Essential to the effect of a pun, 230.
Numb et', plural, origin of the, 30.

Pa1·e11thetical EoopruW1ns, 104. · Where
generally used, 104. To be preceded and
followed by the comma, 104, 106, 107.
Examples of, 105.
Parodies, what they are, 226, 421.
Pa.ronomasin, see P1in.
l'ar&in(!, difficulties In, explained, 66.
Participles,. definition of, 64. Number
of, 64.
Particles, splitting of, 295.
Pasquinade, the, 428 .

Pastoral Poetry, ~3.
Patriotism, a source of moral sublimity,
205.

Pauses, should be distributed at proper In·
t ervals, 302.

o.
0 an!l oh, difference between, TS.
Obelisk, or JJaoger, 151.
Obil iw1·y, the, 369.
Obscurity, a source of sublimity, 197. As
opp!•scd to clearness, in what it consists,
284: causes from which it result s, 285.
Odometer, of what it consist.">, 404. Generally written In two lines, 408.
Ode, the, 422.
Omis.~ion (th e figure), 252.
Onomatopwia, 252. Continued, 305.
Oration, the, 386, 392. Style appropriate
to, 393.
Ortho(lraphy, figures of, 235.
Ossian, why hi~ writings aro classed a_q
poelnl!, 59. One of the ~ublimest of
writers, 211. Description of his style,
211.

P.
Para(!o(!e, 236.
Para.(!raph (character), where used, 150.
Menning ol' the word, 150.

Pa.ralipsi8, 252.
P a.ra llels .(character), 151.
Parallel.v (a variety of composition), 342.
Para.phrase, what It Is, SH.
Parenthe.~e.~,

meaning of the word, 136.
How Indicated In reading, 136. Much
used by ol!I writers, 136. In illsfavor
with mod ern critics, lll6. Rules for the
use of, 137-1 39. Their proper place in
a sentence, 137. How to punctunie mat.
ter within parentheses, 13S. Limg, to be
avoiderl, 312.

Poetical, 415; primary,

415; secondary, 415, 416.

P entamete1·, of what It consists, 404. : Iambic, constitutes the heroic line, 410; Its
character, 410; used In tho Spenserian
stanza:, 410; most commonly found in
the form of the. couplet, 411
Period, meaning of the term, 86. Found
In manuscripts of an early date, 86.
Rules for the, 87-90. When US\ld to
denote the omission of letters, 142.
I'e1·01·ation, tlie, of an argumentative discourse, 359.
PerBoniji,cation, 250.
P erspicuity, se;i Clearne8s.
Phrases, definition of, 69.
Pict·uresque, the, 103, 194.
Pleonasm, 237.
Plot, the, what It Is, 374. Characteristics
of a good, 37 4.
Poetry, what compositions it embraces,
400. Features that distinguish It from
' ·
prose, 401. Varieties of, 418.
Points, punctuation, first nse o~ 81• . To
be used Independently of reading-pauses,
84. Used to separate words and clauses,
84. Used to Indicate the parts o(speech,
84. Show to what cla.ss a sentence belongs, 85. Indicate sudden tranaltforu!,
85. Denote the omission of words,, Sli.
Must be used only when there Is a
posit! ve rule for so doing, 8li. Enumera- '
tlon of the, 86.
;,,'.'. •
Poly&/tndef,on, 295. '
.
Portuouese L1m(!uaoe, origin orthe, 49. \
Pos&e&~ve Case, rnles for _the fo~matlon
of the, 142.
,.
P1·ecfsion, ·deri vatlon of the term, 279.
In whnt It consists, 279. :V:lolfltl'd . by

,J

•, '.#it°?!.;·rr;-:w ..
'.'_ ;'j

JN DEX.

INDEX.

448

a want of discrimination In the use of
synonymes, 279. Rejects unnecessary
words, 281. Oft.e.n violated by Indefinite
clrcmn !ocu t!ons, 282.
Predicate, what it is, 68. Wh en the com·
ma must be In serted in a compound, 119.
Prepositions, origin of, 30. Defin ed, 64.
List of, 64. List of prepositions that
follow certain words, 159. · Should not
close n sentence, 297.
Prescott, remnrks on the style of, 369.
P1·ologu ~, the, 421.
Pronow1s, ndj ccll\'C, origin of, 3 1; definition of, 63. l' ersonnl, origin of, 31; definilion of, 62. Relativ e, origin of, 32;
definiti on of, 62. Interrognti H , definition
of, 62. The ~ame pronoun not to refer
to different objects in th o sumo scnt e nc~,

n.
Rea8011, the distinction between man and
brutes, 13.
Reaso11i11(f, the, in an argumentative diecourse, 389.
R ef erence-liia,.ks, 150.
R egfoien, of verbs ancl prepositions, 63.
R epetition (the figure), 252.
R estrictive Errpressions, defin ed, 105. Not
to be sepamted hy the comma from thnt
which th ey restrict, 105, 110. To be set
off by the comma, when they refer to
~e vernl antecedents th emseh•es sepnrnted
by that point, 110. Should stnnd itnmecliately after th eir logical antecedents,
110.

R eview, th e, 380.
Revision, the bc~t means of correcting too
grcnt florldity, 264. Necessary to the
287.
Prop1·i et11, in whnt it confisls, 276. Faults
effect of good writing, 315.
opposed to it, 276.. Violated by tho con- Rhetoric, nnclcnt meaning of tho word,
founding of derivatives, 276.
163. Its present ncce.vtntion, 163. Its
Prose, compositions it embraces, 348.
prodn ce ns a science. and as nn nrt, 164.
To be rcgarde.cl ns a useful nnd an ele.gant
Prosopoprnia., 250.
art, 165. Achnntnges resulllng from the
Prosthesis, 236.
study of, 166-168. Objection to its rules,
Proverb, the, 345.
168. Source from which Its rules are
Psalm, the, 422.
Pun, th e, 230. Novelty essential to its
drawn. 169. Figures of, 246.
Rhyme, . nn unfavorabl e m edium for the
effect, 230.
Pzmctu ation, what it Is, 81. By whom
expression of sublim e ic!cas, 211. DeInv ented, 81. Too generally neglected, 82.
fin ed, 402. Principles to be observed
Prevents miscon ceptions, 82. Founded
respecting it, 413, 414. Uich rhymes,
on grent nnd 1lefinite prin cipl es, 83. Gen413. Speaks to the ear, 414. Perfect
eral principles of, 84, 85, 86.
rhym es, 414. Aclm!sslbl o rhymes, 414.
Piil'ity, in whnt It consists, 271.
Inndmls~ihle rhym es, 414. Hegularity
Pyrrhic, the, 403.
nf, important, 415.
Ridicitle, in what it consists, 233. To
Q.
what it may be effectively applied, 233.
Its attack covert, 234.
Qua.ntity, of syllables, on what it depends,
402; how indicated, 403; in Latin and Romance, the, 375. Difference between
It and the novel, 375.
Greek, ind ependent of accent, 403.
Roman8, the, their policy in Introducing
Quantity-J.lim·ks, 150.
their language into conquered states, 40.
Q1tntrain, the, 40T.
I
Quintilian, his view of the perfect orntor,
164.

Quota.tion-points, of whnt they consist,
145. By whom first nsed, 145. For
what employed, 145. Not to be used
when merely the substance of a quotation
is giv en, 145. How to punctuate matter
within, 146. Single, when used, 146.
Qiwtation.~ , when to be preceded by th e
colon, 9T. When to be preceded by the
commA, 124.

s.
Sa.n scrit, supposed to be one of the most
nncient of languages, 26.
Satire, th~, 423.
Satirical Poetry, 423.
Smv, th e, 345.
Sa xon Language, nn offshoot ot:.Gothlo,
46.

&irvons, what part of Germany they Inhabited, 44.
S candinavia, emigration of barbarians
from, 41.
S cand ina v ian Language, an oif:;hoot of
Gothic; 46.
Scannill g, in what It consists, 405.
Sden ce, its relation to art, 165.
Seel-ion (character), where used, 150.
S emicolon, rn enning of the word, 100. Degree of separation which it denotes, 100.
First r.mploycd In Italy, 100. When first
used in England, 100. Rul es for .the,
100-102.

Semi-Sarvon lV1·iti11gs, 50.
Sen.~e, aclnptntion of sound to, 304.
Senses, th e, rcnderecl acute by constant use,
172. Three of them hicapable of nwak ening pleasure in the imagination, lSS.
Sentence.~ , definition of, 67.
Component
pnrts of, 67. Sulijccts of, 67; how ascertain ed, 68. Predi cates of, 68. Members
of, 69. Declarative, 70. Intcrrogntlve,
71. Imperative, il. Exclamatory, 71.
Simple, 71. Compound, 71.
Se>"mons, 89~99.
Slwkspeare, his drnmatic poems highly
lrrcgnl ar, 322; th eir popularity actounted for, 323.
Side-heads, wh at th ey nrc, 155.
Silen ce, n source of sublimity, 197.
Simi le, th e, what it is, 247. Sometimes
used without nny fonnal term of comparison, 247. The explanatory, 247. The
embellishing, 248. Rul~s for its use, 256.
Should not be found ed on faint resemblances, 256. Should not be trite, 256.
Should not be founded on local allusions,
25T. Should not be drnwn from resemblances t" trivial objects, 257. · Is out
of pince, wh en anger, terror, or despair, is
tho pre valent passion, 258.
Simplicity, essential to sublimity, 208.
Sk€tchcs, historical, 368. Blogrnphicnl, 369.
Smalln ess, on element of benuty, 219. Tho
Id en of, associated with whatever we are
fond of, 219.
,Smell, n source of pleasure to the imagination only by means of as.soclntions,
189.

Smoothness, an element of beauty, 218.
Sole cism .~,

273.

Solitnde, a source of sublimity, 197.
Solon, tho laws of, how written, 28.

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Sonnet, the, borrowed from the
409. Of what it con sists, 409. Arrange:. . · ·
mentor its rhyme~, 409.
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Sophism, difference between it and sop~lstry, 277.
'
Sound, beauty of, 222. Adaptation of, ' tCJ
sense, 304.
Som1dR, inarticulate, 16. Employed in
composition to imitnte motion, 306; to
represent the emotions of the mind, 307.
Spani8h Langua(Je, the, 01igin .of, 42.
Character of, 59.
Spec uia tio11, what it is, 354.
Speech, parts oi; their origin, 29- 33 · tbell'
number, 62; to . be carefully dlsiln·
guished, 65.
Spondee, the, 403.
Stanzas, what they aro, 402. · Their variety,
infinite, 407. Four·lin~d, 407. · S!x-lln1,d,
408. The Spenserian stanza, ' borrowed
from Italian, 408; by whom usetl, 408 ;.
of what it consists, 408.
.
Statement, the, of an argumentative discourse, 388.
St01·y, the, 876. Difference between it irnd
the tale, 876.
Strength, In whnt It consists, 293. Requires th e rejection uf superfluous words,
293. Requires that proper connect! ves
b e used, 293. Requires that the too frequent uRe of and be avolded, 294. Requires tfie writer to avoid 8plitting particles, 295. Requires that the Important
words be so disposed as to make the
greatest impression, 295. Requires that a
shorter member 8hould precede a longer, .
and a weaker a stronger,. 296. Requires
that a sentence should not be closed with
nn unaccented word, 297.
Style, dignified by figures, 243. What It
ls, 262. Derivation of tho word, 262.
Varieties of, 263; appropriate to different
subj ects, 263. The dry, 263. The plain,
263. The neat, 263; nrlnptcd to all subjects, 264. Th e elegant, 264. The florid,
264; two varieties of, 264; best means
of correcting too great floridity, 264. The
simple, 265. The lnbored, 265. The concise, 265. The diffuse, 266. The nervous, 266. The f~ebl e, 266. Essential
. properties of, 270. Forming of, 313 ;.ru! es for the, 314-316. Must be adaptell
to tho subject, 316.
Sub-hrnds, what th<'y are, 155.

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INDEX.

INDEX.

Subjects, definition of, 67. How to be as· 1 1lL1ttolo(Jy~ what it ls, 300. · How to correct
it, 300.
certained, 68. Grammatical, 68. Logical, 68. Logical, when to be foll owed by Technical Terms, to be avoided In composition, 288.
the comma, 115. List of, 427-434.
Sublimity, defined, 194. Its principal Testimony, nrgnment from, 333.
sourco, 195. An element in scriptural Tetrmnete1", of wlJl\t it consists, 404. Iambic, a favorite measure, 411; its facility ,
descriptions of powerful animal&, 195.
of construction, 410.
Vastness, one of its sources, 196. Darkness, solitude, and silence, cond ucive to Teutonic Lan(Jua(Je, a branch of Gothic, 46.
i t, 197. Obscurity, one of its sources, 197. Texts, choice of, 39!.
Heightened by disorder, 19S. Sounds Tltaut, supposed to be identical with
II ermcs Trismegistns, 25.
charncterized by, 199.
I'rocluccd, In
sounds, cxclusi voly by nssociations, 200. Thesis, the, 385.
Tho sublime In writin~, 201; excludes Tltouaht, essential to clTccti vc writing, 326.
what is merely beautiful, 201. Moral or Title-pa (Je, th o, 155.
sentimental sublime, 204; its sources, Titles Runnin(J, what th ey arc, 155.
204. Style esscn tinl to it, 206 ; concise- Tmesis, 237.
ness, one of its essentials, 207; simplicity, Toitcli, incapable of l\Wl\k ening pleasure in
the imagination without the aid of sight,
one of its essentials, 208. 'l'he emotion
189.
it excites, snort-lived, 209. An unimproved state of society, favorable to it, Tract., the, 380.
210. Hhyme, unfavorable to sublimity Tra(Jedy, defined, 420.
in writing, 212. Faults opposed to It, Travels, 370.
213. Ye.ry swift motion, an elomcnt Tmvesties, "·hat they are, 226, 421.
T1·eatise, the, 380.
of, 218.
Tr ibmch, the, 403.
Substantives, what they arc, 62.
Syllabication, two systems of, 144. ltulcs 11rimeter, of what it consists, 404.
Triplet, the, whRt it is, 402.
of, 145.
Tro chee, the, 403.
Syllepsis, what it is, 237.
Syntaro, principles for correcting fa!S,,, Tropes, 247.
Type, kinds of, 154.
156-159. Figures of, 237
Synairesis, 236.
u.
Syncope, 236.
Unity,
in
whnt
it
consiste,
309. Requires
Synecdoche, 249.
that the scene and ~ubject be changed as
Synonymes, whl\t they aru, 280. \Vant
little as possible, 309. Requires us to
of discrimination between them violates
avoid crowding into one sentence things
precision, 279.
that have no connection, 310. PunctuRtion, no remedy for violations of, 311.
Requires the writer to aYoid Jong parentheses, 312. The three clrnmntlc unities,
'Ia le, the, 375.
420.
Taste, defined, 170. Y nrious th eories respecting it, 170, 171. Common to all Unity and Vad ety, held by some to constitute b eauty, 215.
men, 171. Possessed in different degrees, 171. Au improvable faculty, 172. Usa(Je, the only standard of spcnklng anrl
writing, 274. rresont, 274. National,
Its connection with the jnrlgn1ent, 173.
274. lleputuble, 274. Rules with reIt.~ elements, 174.
Its chnrncteristics,
spect to words when usage is divided, 275.
174. D elicacy of, 174. Correctness of,
1i5. Mu tntions r•t; 176. Often vitiated, Utility, held by some to constitute beauty,
21 5.
176, 1i7. Dh·ersity nf, wh en nr.lmissible,
178. Standard of, 179. Distin ction bev.
tween it nnd genius, 18 1, 182. Pleasures
of, 183; derived from inrngination, 185 ; Variety, one of th e elements of beauty
of figure, 217.
increa~ed by R>socinlions, l SG.

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Vastness, a source of sublimity, 196.
Wit, what It Is, 225. How produced, 226.- • .
Verbs, origin of, 31. Defined, 63. SubVarieties of, 226-231. Capable of ma- ·
jects of, 63. Transitive, 63. Intransitive,
king beauties, as well as blemishes, sub- .
63. Finite, 63. Voices of, 63. Transijects of derision, 321.
tive and intransitive, to bo carefully dis- Wonderful, tho, a source or plea.sure to the .
tinguished, 158.
imagination, 193. · An element In ChiVer8e, of what it conslets, 401. Iambic,
nese gardening, 193.
404.
Trochaic, 404. Anapestic, 404. Writinu, lrleographic system of, 21 ; used
Dactyl!c, 404. Blank, sc~ Blank Verse.
by the Mexicans and North American
Verses, what they are, 402. When called
Indians, 21. · · Verbal system of, 21; objection to It, 22. Chinese system of, 22 ;
pure, 404. When said to be miroed,
404. Catnlcctlc, 404. llypercatalectlc,
read and understood by other Asiatic
405. Acntalectlc, 405.
nationii, 22. Syllabic system of, 23;
Ye1·sijication, what It Is, 402.
written languages of which It I~ the basis,
Vi(Jnette, the, 155.
23. Alphabetic system of, 23; Its origin,
Vision, 250.
24; Its invention attributed to the Deity,
Volumes, different sizes of, folio, quarto,
to Moses, Abraham, Enoch, and Adam,
&e., 153.
24 ; its Invention attrjbuted· by the
Voya(Jes, 370.
Greeks and Romans to the Pbamlcians,
¥1.tl(Jarisms, to be avoided, 276.
_25; different theories as to its In ventlon,
26; known to tho Jews tu the time or
'\V.
Moses, 27. Present manner of, Introduced by Prouapides, 28.
Welsh, Its resemblance to Hebrew, 37.

THE END.

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FIRST LESSONS IN ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

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