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PRACTICAL RifE'fORIC

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FOR 1NS1'R UOTION IN
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ENGLISH COMPOSITION AND REVISION

COLLEGES AND INTERMEDIATE SCHOOLS

BY

.J. SCOTT CLARK, A.M.
PBo.--Oa

OJ' RHETORIO IN THll: COLLll:Oli: 01' LlBl:IUL .ill'1"8,

8TIU.CU811: IDll:Vl:RBITY .,

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NEW YORK

~:ijENRY HOLT AND COMP~
1887

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0oPTIUORT,

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1884,

TO TIER WITHOUT WHOSE PATIENT HELPFULNESS THE FOLLOWING PAGES COULD NOT HAVE BEEN PREPARED,
THEY A.RE INSCRIBED BY THE AUTHOR
.411 .A.N A.CT OF SlMPLE JUSTICE.

BY

HENRY HOLT & CO.

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DRUJlllOND & NstJ,
Electrot11Pf!rt,

New York.

FW"!ed br

o. F. voo1'Lll111.
New York.

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CovnuoBT, 18811,
BY

HENRY HOLT lt 00.

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Klectrotr.pen,
l!lew York.

DllUIOIONI>

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0. p, VOOJIUO&
New Yori<.

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PREFACE:

a ., muo 1>Mlii8
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, impracticable and fruitlees 'is the
. Tardiot bf ·ourra.blest thinkers on the subject:• It is agreed
that .tobe·practical, a text-book on Rhetoric must be so con-.
' af;rnoted:.that, .after a careful ·:study of its principles .and . a
thoroogh:idrilHn its exercises, th':l stuc:ent shall write better
Jllogliah1than..Jie wrote before taking up the book." That
mbet~ ofroµl'lb.urrent text-books on this subject do not meet
thia.testdait~lief of the author, after a careful, extended,'
&Jiihimpartialclitia.l of 'nearly all of these; That the average
mai:l;.~ven tofis0-:called "liberal education~''· composes and
paiictoatea: badly,' often almost incomprehensibly; is known
·to:.9very."edit6r•cf Perhaps no other fact baa caused so much
'acltei'se; ,;iriticism byJthe prees 'upon college : graduates· and
di 1ystemrof1collegiate education ·as has the kind ·of Eng"
liah''.ofteJi»ocl>nttibuted by those graduates. That this state
1thinga ianot;due to any lack of attention to the branch
,Rhetorioi ·an examination of the curricula· of any ten of
~>prominent , seminarlos and colleges will prove. In too
· textbooks, the pupil la led through a labyrinth of ab.:
... onat~ng such names as ·" Invention," "Taste,"
c '_ notion/Ii'.' Simplicity,'' "Partial Exposition," "Feel•
tffl!',Perfeetion,'' " .1.'he Sublime," "The Picturesque,"
< G~li1' "The Novel,'~" The Wonderful,'~ and so
. :.. beoome&;loat in a .,theoretical maze;:while ha
.trainm

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PRTCFAOM.

goes on writing and speaking in the same obs~ure, clumsy .
forms that he .used before he ever saw a Rhetoric. ·
Opposed to this artificial process comes the fact, patent
to every careful observer, that the boy ~earns to think and
to express himself, with tongue or pen, JUSt as ~e learned to
walk-m1consciously, by imitation and obse~tion; ~he
obtains his methods and means of "invention" frum a
hundred sources too subtle and too widely varying ever to ~
be analyzed or classified ; that l~is st!le is largely for~e~,
as is his character,· by surr~1mdmg mfluences. And i~ is
well that this is so; for it is this very subtlety and variety ~
in the sources of invention that gives to every man th~t .
individuality which is too sacred to be destroyed or ~utI- '
lated by inflexible theories.
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In Herbert Spencer's essay on "The Philosophy of Style,"
-an essay that should be carefully read by every student .
of English composition-after admitting t~at "good. co:r_n·
position is far less dependent upon acquamtance with its
laws than upon practice and natural _aptitude,'' the _author
says: "Yet, as facilitating revision, a knowledge. of the
thing to be achieved-a clear idea o~ what constit~te~, a
beauty and what a blemish-cannot fail to be of service.
In this quotation will be found the thought that under•
lies the following pages. It is the belief of the author that
the only practical rhetorical training. must be largely ~ega­
tive ; that the ability to revise, readily detect, ~nd q~rnkly
rectify any blemish in w~at has alre~dy bee~ wr~tten, .is the .
first requisite ; that contmual practice of this kmd will enable the pupil to avoid, unconsciously, the m~s~ common
faults in form and style ; that aside from certam language
lessons in the lower grades, what is generally called "inve~­
tion" cannot be taught in the class-room ; that those ·delicate graces of style which give to~ compositi.on that which
makes it a classic cannot be obtamed from either text-book
or teacher; in a word, that Uhetoric must be an a~alysis
rather than a synthesis. This, in fact, is th~ very ki?d ?f
"rhetoric" that i~ being pnt into actual daily practwe m
every newspaper office in the wQrld..

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PRRJl'AOB.

book is not intended for grades lower than our highschools and scminaries-tlteithcr is it intended for use by
any teacher who ·is the mere servant of his text-book.
' ~ Throughout, an effort has been made toward such conden.:
~" [' ~tion .as ~hall leave to the teacher the most room for exposi. t1on and mdependent ,work. For example, the sections in
: ·Ohapters III. and IV. of Part II., treating, respectively,
·.: of prepositions and wordlformation, will be found each to
: _contain work enough to occupy an average class many weeks.
' Theref?re, unless there is ample time for completing the
work in the remaining chapters, it would be wise to omit
most of that in th_, above-named sections.
: The book is int{lndcd, moreover, not merely as a claRs
. text-book, but as B manual in criticising and corrcotiug U1L
. compositions that may be required of the student. It ill
': · hoped that, by adopting the method here given, he will learn
: · to detect and rectify his own errorlJ, and so to avoid them
1;; later-an end that is too rarely attained.
'-4 Of the examples for.practice in Parts I. and II., less than a
.·: dozen have ~~n in print before. They have been iielected ·
from about seven hundred undergraduate essays, taken at
. random froi:i!teveral thousand which it has been the fortnne
.'· '· of_the author somewhat minutely to criticise. It is believed
that an advantage is here gained over the common method
•'• of selecting examples for practice from those writers, of more
f or less reputation, whose surroundings, characteristics, and · .
:~ habits of thought must have been widely different from
' ~ose o~ the undergraduate of to-day•
.~'!,:Few new principles have been introduced. . The book
·::~s to be r_at~er an application and a more practical adap- ·
, tatton of pnnmples already enounced. In selecting and re'etating these principles, _use has been made of the works of

PREFA OE.

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writers, the author will be ·thankful for information of ·the

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fact.

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.ers1. ation " is based on the chapters devoted to that subJect m
~bbott and Seeley's "EngUsh Lessons for English People·;"
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a luabl~.
a work that, for reference at least, is
e. ,~.
It is, perhaps, needless to say that Part I . , on

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COLLEGE OF LIBERAL ARTS,
8YRACURE UNIVERSITY,

April, 1886.

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SUGGESTIONS TO TEACHERS. ,•.
IN order tO aa~ t . the work to the 'needs of those teachers in'
mtermediate ec o ·who prefer to take up the simpler rules
clearnces, etc., before dealing with eBBl\y
for ti~tua mg,
outl- and with the more complex principles governing the different kinds of compcisition, it has 'beeri 'thought beht;'in arrang~'
Ing· the.- piJ,rts, to' deviate slightly from · a strict logical order, by
placing the diiicussioh of the thought after that of form 1md etylo.l
"It has been' the custom of the author . to begin with . the first
thi:ee chal>,ter8' of Patt III.; assigning for the first e88lty a deeorip-'
tion of some obje'c t or collection of object.a that hM actuall;y-been•
eeen; t.hen, after the first essay bas been presented, to take up
'.' Parts I. and II., successively, by placing the marginal numbers
;~ upon the essay according to the suggestions on pages 2 and 55.
, · Bo much of the time of the class as is not employed in discussing
;, the errors in the essays is then devoted to fixing the principles
,, ' of form and style b5'fmeans of the exercises under the various
;'. :i.. heads. The second eesay assigned is a narrativ~, and Obapter IV.,
• 1; .. ;f. Part III., on n~rration, is ta.k~n up before the class begins writing,
~ and so on; taking the remammg chapters of Part III., from time
, to time, as a preparation for the corresponding essays, e.nd re' returning meanwhile to the practice of applying the principles of
·· form and style•
. In view of results obtained by this method, the author feels
warranted in urging its use with all students of college, or even
of advanced high-school grade.
-With younger pupils, where the chapters are taken consecutively from the beginning, the same method of studying the prinepplee will be found most satisfactory.
5 Let every exercise under both form and style be placed upon a
p of paper or a card, without the numbers in parenthesee.each member of the class draw one of these slips or cards
.. _hia ~e is called, and let him place upon tha board his ClOJ!-

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SUGGESTIONS TO TEAOHliJRB.

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rected rendering of the sentence. After the sentences assigned
for the recitation are all corrected, with such r(lview slips as may
be used, let each pupil give (1) the original form of his sentence,
(2) the corrected form, (.3) his reason (the rule) for every change
made. Then throw the corrected version open to the entire class
for criticism, if any be necessary. In ·this way every member of
a large class may be set at work as promptly as in a recitation In
mathematics, and the attention o~ every member may easily be
hold throughout the hour. By taking, successively, the three
steps just enumerated, quibbling and useless discussion over different versions may be avoided.
By this use of cards or slips the principles of form and style
will become fixed more easily and more thoroughly than by assigning them to be arbitrarily memorized. The exercises are
published separately, printed only on one side, in paniphlet form,
so that by cutting these pages into slips the teacher may be saved
the labor of copying the exercises. The reference numbers can be
obliterated if the teacher prefers.
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OONTENTS.

PART I.
THE FORM.
CHAPTER I,

·r~. ~PACING

AND UNDBRl!CoRINo•.•..•••••••••••••••••••.•••••••

P.to:

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CHAPTER II.
t· 8PBLLIJIG..

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CHAPTER III.
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CHAPTER IV.

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CHAPTER V•
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CHAPTER VI.

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PART II.

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THE STYLE.

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CHAPTER I. ·

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(JONTENTS.

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CHAPTER VI.

CHAPTER III.

P.lOS

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PRECISION •• ; .. . ... . ... . .. . .. . ....... • • •• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

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CHAPTER IV:

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PURITY ••••••••••• ••• ' •••••••. ' ......... . . : •••••••••••••••••

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CHAPTER V.
PROPRIETY. • • • • • • • • • • • • . • . • • • • . • • • . • • • • . • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

185
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CHAPTER VI.
UNITY •••• • .••••••••••.. • •••...• • •••.•••••••••••••••••••••••

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I.

CHAPTER VII.
EUPHONY.. • • • • • • • • • . • . • . • . • • • • . • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

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\lf' OHAPTER II.

CHAPTEU VIII.
GENERAL ExERCIBEB ......... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

159

816

CHAPTER IX.
RHETORICAL IMAGERY . .. .... . ....... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

187

PART III.
THE THOUGHT.
CHAPTER I.
THE SELECTION OF A SUBJECT .• • •••.• • •••• •• • • •• •• •• •••••••

241

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CHAPTER II.
TIIE 0UTLINE-1TB blPORTANCE-METHODB OF CONSTRUCTION.

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CHAPTER III.
DESCRIPTION ••••••• •• •• '. ·. ' • .••••• • •••••• '. ••••••••••••• • ••••

CHAPTER .IV.
;°NARRATION •••••• • •• • •••••••• .. .' • • .. '. . : •.•••. • •••••••

CHAPTER .V.

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PART IV.

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PR.A OTI<JA /, llllETOllIO.

62. "Then FJated /fo.11.,r1er hidi=; his hrother thirst,
l'rndn ce t.he mighL.Y bowl:
Nor wanting is the hrown Ocloher, drnwn
l\latu re arnl perfect, from lti8 <lark retreat
or l.hirl.y .Y(1:tl'8, and. now !tis honc/jlfront
Flames i 11 the light refit Igent."
63. "Ree Winter comes, Lo rnlc t,hc vary'd year,
8111lon aml Rad with all ltis ri~ing Lmiu,
1·apors and clouds awl storms."
64. "She shall be d'ignifietl with this high honor,
'fo bear my lady's train; lest !he base earth
Shonl\l from her vesturo cl1a11co to steal a kiss;
Arni, of Ro groat a favor growing prnu1l,
Diro;1lai11 to root tho ro;1111111111r-i;wdli11g Hower,
Awl make rough winter everlastingly."
65. Calista. "Is ii, the voice of thnrnlor, or my fothQr?
Madness! Confosion I let the storm come on!
Let the tumull11011s roar drive all upon me,
Dash my devoted bark; ye surges, break it;
'Tis .for my min that the tempest rises.
When I am lost, sunk to the bottom low,
Pen.cc shall return, and aU be calm again."
66. Gonsalez. "0 my so11 ! from the bli111l dotage
Of a father's fondness t l1 csc ills arose.
For thee I've been ambit ions, hasc, arul bloody:
For thee I 've plnng'd into this sea of sin;
Stemming tho tillc with only one weak lmn<l,
While t'othcr bore the crown (to wreathe thy brow)
Whose weight has sunk me ere I roach'd the shore."

PART III.
THE

THOUGHT.

CHAPTEH I.
THE Sl~Ll~CTTON OF A oUllJECT.
OF all tho tasks assigno\l to tho average student, from
the grammar grades up through the college course, none
J~as been t~ ~ubject ~f so mu ch complaint as that of English compos.1twn. " IJmt essay" is the bugbear of the
school cnrrumlnm, and has boon since tho days of the
fathers. The fact tlrnt this complaint is so often heard
from pupils who never become discouraged about their
work m other departments is evidence that the irksomeness of rhetorical work is not entirely attributable to the
character or the ability of tho average student.
'l'he first cause of difficuHy in composition is doubtless
to be found. in the tendency of young writers to select too
broad a subject. Indefinite thinking is always weak, confn s~d, difficult thinkinf?. Take, for example, the following
snbJects, quoted ve1·batrni from actual programmes of seminary rhetorical exercises:
Uon11!1erce,
Light,
Words,
Confltet,
"\Vealth
. Labor,
Th? Arts,
81ccp, '
Newspapers,
Hu Ills,
Life,
Hypocrisy,
Names,
Education
Pride,

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Dissatisfaction,
Public Opinion,

Envy,
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Scllishncss,

Clouds,
Curiosity.

And the list might be prolonged indefinitely from the
programmes offered in .o ur intermediate schools. Now, in
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l'RAC1'ICiL llllE1'0RIC.

7'HE 8ELEV1'ION OF A SUBJEC1:

how many of the subjects quoted is any one line of th<mght
clearly indicated? From 'vhat one could we tell what the
writer is roally to write about ?
'l'he first essential, then, in selecting a subject, is that it
be limited to one d ear, fundam ental idea; in other words,
that it be so narrowed down that the writer shall constantly be aiming in one direction instead of five or six.
'l'ake, for example, the first subject in the list above quoted.
It contains at least eight good essay themes, viz.:1. The Importance of Commerce;
2. The History of Commerce;
3. Methodf< of Commt·rcc ;
4. Obstru ct- inn s to <.Jommerce ;
5. Evils in <.J ommercc ;
6. Possibilities of Commerce;
7. Influence of Comm Pree on Morals ;
8. Dangers to Commerce.
And if the word "commerce" be taken in a figurative
sense, the number of themes may be increased indefinitely.
Again, taking from our list the subject Education. This
might be analyzed into themes as follows:!. Wh at is n.n E<lucatiou 1
2. Benefit s of 11 11 Education ;
3. Methods or falucn.tiou ;
4. The lfato ry of Edn cntion;
5. Errors in Ed ucation;
6. Essentials in Educ:1tin11;
7. Great Names in Educntion , nnd so 011.
The themes so for selected for illustration have been
mainly expository in cha.meter; but there is equal rlanger
of too great breadth in stating an argumentative theme.
The trite proposition, "The pen is mightier than tho
sword," affords an illustration. From this we may ligitimatoly draw the following: 1. NcwRp:qwrs a re mo rn po werful th:111 a rmi es;
2. The l 'od ll<rn1cr wa ~ ~norc powerful t.han Al cxnncl cr;
3 .Mrs. i:'t owo nccorn 1h ~lt c<l more toward tho nbolilion
sin.very in.n < H o 111 ro\l·n ;
4. O cn c~·a l cduc:moll Is a gmtlet -m'lfeguanl to a city than is a
strong police force ;
5. l'opnla.r iust.ruction will do more for the temperance cause
than will legal cuactmcn t.

Almost any general proposition may be similarly narrowed.
Sometimes, again, the process of narrowing down a theme
consists of several successive steps. 'l'ake from our lifit,
for example, the subject, "'l'ho Arts." Successive analysis
gives us the following:!. Original genernl theme-Tho Arts.
2. Narrowed theme-Th(l Fino Arts.
.a. Narrowed farther-Tho Growth of the Fino Arts.
4. Nnrrowo<l still farther-Th o Hrowth of tho Fino Arts in
America.
5. Still farther-The Growth of the Fine Arts in Amcricn. since
1870.

'l'hus, by four succ~ive steps, we obtain for our composition a theme that is excellent, because it confines the
writer to one line of thought, and prevents "scattering."
It is, moreover, a theme involving only so many facts and
relations as may be fairly touched upon in an essay of from
five hundred ~o one thousaml words. But to treat even
briefly the original, unnarrowecl theme would require at·
least an encyclopredia volum e ; and this could be done successfully only by analyzing tho theme and treating it under
several separate head s.
In the too common attempt to write upon such a general
theme, th e pupil is lik e a trnvollor Atancling n.t tho junction
of several paths. Wishing l o roach a certain <lesti1mLion,
he confidently, but often qnite casually, selects his path,
and follows this until it al so bra.n ches out into many diverging ways. '!'hen come hesitation, confusion, discouragement. If he is exceptionally determined, our writertraveiler retraces his steps to the original starting-point,
puzzles his brain over the remaining paths, and then starts
ont again only to repeat his first experience; and so the
process of: unthinking ~ocs 011 , till I.ho pupil is lost in n
maze of his own constrnctio11, and gives up the e1Iort in
despair. 'l'hat this is not n.n exaggerated picture, almost
any practical teacher of rhetoric will admit. With a properly narrowed- theme, however, the writer has before him a
straight road, so plainly marked that any diverging by-paths

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PRA01WAL RHETORIC.

240

TEE lll?LE01'10N 0/i' A SUB.TE01~

which ho may find will serve, merely by their subordinate
character, only to assure him that he is on tho main
ro~.
.
Another a<lvantago g-ai11c1l hy carefully 11arrowing tho
theme is that, in his preliminary reading, the writer can
thus easily select what is relevant. With a simple subject
and with the use of a good index, the writer may gain, in a
few moments. all that is rclernnt to his theme in a large
volume. With n.n indefinite subject, one may wander aimlessly through a book a1Hl secure, in the end, no valuable
accessions to his knowlerlgo of that subject.
Jn certain kinds o[ com posit.ion, especially in Description
and Narrntion, wenknoss and bewi lderment are caused, not
by confusing different l incs of thon?ltt, but b~ endea:oring
to cover too mnch grournl on one h110. Au 1Jlustrat1on of
this may be found in onr fifth narrowed theme on page

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MoLloy, M1wa11lay, and Vidor JL11 gu Lhat Joos not coulam
or suggest many fresh, interesting themes. Our best current literature is also most prolific in suggestion.
3. Select so111.e tlt c111 e in wli id1 yon I/ re persoiwlly 1:ntere.-!1·cl. Forced interest is always weak interest.
It is
donbtful whether it is eve r wise in a teacher to aflsign to an
entire class, or to any pnpil, a particular sn bjcct. By restricting the subjects in a general way, all the advnnt:~ges
of definite assignment arc gnincd, and at the same time
room is left for individual tastes.
4. If f.lte them e 1's to be J..!/11111c11tril 1:1:f', srlr.r.t one on 101t£ch
?/OU h ~Vt! personal conv ic:liuns. Barncstnci:;s is the very
soul of oloqnencc. Convinec your reader or hearei: th~t
really in earnest., and his favorable attcut10n 1~

2-:13.
Hero without some limiting <late, snch as 1870, the subject wo:1ld include so mnch as to bo in?a1:nble of fair tre~t­
mont in nn averngc essay. In descnptive and narrative
composition the author stands at tho centr? o~ a circle )·et
to be constrnctcd: l1is first care must be to lumt the radrns.
Althongh tho firnt difficulty of composing, and the first
cause of imlofinitcness an<l conscrp:c1tt weaknefls in too
many prorluctions, have nlrcacly l:ecn ~Jointe~ out, some
further suggestions ns to the sclecL1011 of· a snbJect may be
helpful 'Ve rrive these in mrnrnricnl onler:'he world is too fo 11 of unako it; n occss:u·y for nndcr<Traflnatcs to dilate fn:rther on "F~pring," "Home,''
7, Friendship," "The Benefits of AdYersity," and the
like.
L et it be remembered, at tho rnmc time, that a trite
general su bjcct may, hy iiroper narrowing, furnish one that
is fresh as well as rlcfiuit.c. For example, a very readable
essay might be written on "The Disadvantages of Close
:Friendship."

2. Gain tlwme8 and Sllfl!JCSUons jiir themes by gcnrrn.l
rerr.di11,q. There is hnnlly n diapi.er of Hunh wrilc•rn ~1.R

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10 ·
·y or men a
under twenty-five years of age, or thereabouts, to enlighten
the world on such doctrines as those of Heredity, Evolution, Sanctification, Free-will, The Immortality of the
.
Soul, etc. "One of the IH'r;f· results of wncmg,
says
!'resident Hill, * "is that learners study a subject carefully
in order to write about it well. Bnt t ho subject should not
lie above the writer'r-; ahi lily tu understand, with a rcaso able amount
·
"1il reading."
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6. State 11011r Ih eme 1:nfrlliqibly. Tho l}l'imo object in
stating the theme upon a title-page or prin~d programme,
or by word of mouth, is, that the mental effort of the
reader or hearer may be thus economized by giving him a
snggcRt.ion of wh'.1-t i~ to come. A popular violation ?f th is
principle, and one upheld by some eminent authors, Is that

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PRAOTJ(JAL RHETORW.

of prefixing fanciful titles. Take, for example, such abshnotions as Uuskin's "A Crown of Wild Olives" and "Mimera
Pulveris," Longfellow's "Hyperion," etc.
Here, too, such ambiguous titles as arise from a confusion of genitives are to be avoided. }'or example, the title,
"'l'he Fear of the Demigods" is wholly ambiguous.
7. 1lfo!.:c the fn'/'111rtl statement of the theme no broader
tlian the essay itself Nearly every writer on a general
theme uncon sciously narrows that theme clown more or less.
If, for example, it is "The lmport:wc·e of Trifles," let that
and not "Trifles" be the theme announced.
8. A tlapt the theme to the riews and ·i nclinal£ons of tile
rec1j1ie11ls.
In school aJHl college exercises, a ,i·ide variety of themes
is allowable; but these arc only the beginning of lJructical
rhetoric. It is admitted that the success of any ~vriter or
speaker, as measured by his ability to modify the acts and
the opinions of those whom he ad<lrcsses, depends more
upon his skill in this matter of adapt:~tion than upon ai1y
other element. 13ain* notes the fact that l\lilton, and after
him Erskine, each eminent as a master of elegant prose,
alike failed in securing the abolishment of the obnoxious
censorship of the press, because t he arguments of c:wh,
though invincible and eloquent, were addressed to motirns
far above those that inflnencetl Lhc nrn.ss of English rnters
and English statesmen. While a committee from the Honse
of Uommons made up of men so obsc•.tre that 1\Incaulay
doe;; not even mention their names_, readily secured the
repeal of the measure by calling the attention of Parliament
to points that were within the 1mle of popular comprehension and popular interest.
'l'he writer who has jnst come from the elevated mental
surroundings o( school life needs to be especially careful on
this point. He mui;t remember that there are many to1Jics
the discussion of which 1Vonld be listcnc<l to with interest

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by a company of educated men, yet would fail to gain oven
respectful attention from a popular assemblage.
In general, the writer should know something of tho
views, the characteristics, and especially the prejudices of
his readers or hearers bcforn sclcctin~ his theme. It docs
not follow from this prin ciple that a writer or speaker
should 1lescend to the absolute mental or moral pla110 of l1i,q
hearers; but he must take care that the step between hi s
plane and theirs be not too wide. Popular views can be
elevated only by gmd ual stages.
9. 1'/te tlteme rimst be adapted, also, to the occnsion. Temporarily pr~iling sentiments of sorrow, joy, suspicion,
jealousy, vengeance, and the like, mu st not be disregarded.
'L'hrongh a neglect to observe t.he pro11riotics of the occasion, many a production wl1ich must otherwise have been
regarded as strong or brilliant has been worse than a failure.
Often the impropriety results from t.he nature of the circumstances rather than from any prevailing sentiment.
The college Junior ,/ho soberly addressed an audience composed largely of young ladies on the requisites of a good
husband did not succeed in securing the grave attention
of his hearers.
Smnmary.-ln a word, then, the subject selected shonld
contain but one definite line of thought; should not be
trite; may often be suggested by ~enernl reading; should
be one in which the writer iRpcrsoAally interested; if argumentative, one on which he has convictions; should be
suited to his abilities; shonl1l be stated intelligibly; should
be stated as no broader than the essay; and should be
adapted to the views and the intelligence of those addressed
as well as to the occasion.
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PRAG1WAL RllE1'0Rld.

THE OUTLINE.

OllA I'TE It II.

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THE OUTLINE-ITS IMPOHTAN UE- METHODS OF
CONS'l'HUUTION.
NEXT to Lho fault of selecting too broad a subject, and
still more productive of confus ion and dilficulty to tho
young writer, is the habit ol' composing-, or attempting to
compose, without hari ng first constmctetl a careful framework. That almost 1wp ry writer does nnconscionsly form
a partial framework before l>C'gi1111i11g- the definite work of
composition proves only Lhe ne-ed o[ more careful attention
to this preliminary work. All com11osition really consists
of two distinct but essential steps:-1. The collection and
classification of material by invcstign.tion, reading, reflection, etc. 2. '!'h e union of these into a smoothly connected, harmonious whole by the rn:e of such terms and
such arts of expression :ts may co111l nee to t-.his enrl.
When pupils can be tallght thoroughly to separate these
two steps, then the prm'alent complaint about the difficulty
of essay-writing will largely cease. No mind can perform
two such tasks at 011ce ::md perform each task well. Distraction, neglect, and <lifficulty must always be the result
of such an attempt. It would he as wise for a carpenter to
attempt to nnite with hi s trade the occupations of chopper,
C'arrier, sawyer, and lnmbcr-tlealer, stopping at every step
of his work to go again iilto the forest, fell a tree, haul it,
saw it, and prepare it for the real carpenter's use, as for a
stndcnt to attempt to put his ideas into clear, strong English at the same time that he is trying to originate or collect
those ideas. Either effort is enollgh at one time.
'l'he real f.hinking, tl1en the real inv
shou
e almoal ent;rnJy tloue heforn the fh·st definite sen· //

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tence is wri Heu Of course, new iueas will be suggesteu
during the process of elaborating the various heads and subheads of the outline. Bnt if the first operation has been
thoroughly performed, these ideas will be of minor import:mco, an<l can easily he 1trm11g0tl in thoir 11ropcr placcR. '!'he
obscure, clumsy style so common even among college graduates is uot to be wondered at when we consider the constant
<listmct.ions arising from th is harmful habit, ns common its
it is harmful, of trying to do two things nt once.
The construction of an essay, moreover, may profitably
be compared in several res pects to the construction of a
frame house. 'l'he framework is just as necessary in the
one case as in the other. The builder who should take his
materials in1liscrirninately-pl:wing first upon the ground,
perhaps, a bunch qf shing-l es, t hen a load of boards, then a
few sqnare tim~rs, then a keg of nail s, then a1mil of paint,
and so on, making only a confu sed heap of unassorted matter, to which he shoul1l give the name of a house-such a
man would be considered insane. Yet this is just the way
in which pupi~ too often a.ttem pt to write an essay.
'l'rne, there arc varying degrees of confusion or of arrangement, according to the varying ideas of order natural
to different persons, and unconsciously applied.
Some pupils lay the foundation (their general reading on
a subject) fairly, ancl pnt some of the main timbers (the
main heads of the outline) in their proper places, but friil
to com plete this first step, thus leaving the structure onesidcd and disproportionate. 'l'he essay framework must be
complete; that is, it must not omit, among its main timbers, or heads, any important division or relation of the
theme.
Other pupils determine the main heads of th e outline
and arrange these in their proper order, but fail to determine and classify the subheads under each; as if the builder
shonlcl try to nail the ontsi1lc boards directly to the large
corner-posts without the intervening smaller timbers.
Others, again, insert snllicient smaller timbers, but con-

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fuse these as to their places, pnttiug those intended for th,e
lower story in the upper, and vice versa. 'l'he essay outline must have subheads carefully determined, and each
anang-e<l loginally under its appropriate nmin hmul.
Still other writers (and this is a very common weakness) always build the front walk and porch before beginning the main part of the Rtrnet11rc. It. is as wiso in
building an essay as in buildi11g a house to lcavo the approaches till the rest is completed. Otherwise, there is
great danger of making the vcrantln., for example, too
large for tl1c house. Long introductions arc the favorite
wcakncRs o.f young writers. 'J'o a young editor who wrote
to Horace G rceley asking what was the best method of
writing an cd i torial, the veteran replied, " Write tho best
article you can; di ville it in the mitld le, lmrn the first half,
and publish the last." 'l'o the same effect President Hill
prescribes* that the introduction should be "modest, moderate, short, and natural," and should be "such as to excite
interest."
Ami, finally, a few writers give the weight of their
attention to the paint, cornice, ancl cmTing, neglecting the
fnnclarncntal features of the b11iltling. Rhetorical figures,
aml the other ornaments of style, are Yal11able only when
used as ornaments; they can never take the place of plain,
earnest thought.
Besides simplifying his work arnl relieving him from continual distraction, the practice of making formal, prclimi:iary outlines gives to the writer many other advantages.
In the first iilace,
JI enables him lo wrile r:luscly withi·1i prescribed limits.
With the development of general literary culture, ancl with
the multiplicat.ion of the sonrces of information, this requisite has become imperati rn. Enter, even temporarily, the
cmp\oy of any successful newRpapcr or maga~ine pnhlisher,
and you will be asked to treat your subject within a certain

*

"Elements of Hhclorie," p. 17.

7'HE 0 UTLINE.

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number of pages, a certain portion of a column, or in a
certain number of wonls. The proclnctiou must vary but
the least in either llircctio11 from the limit. In such a sitnation the uumetho<lica.l wrilcr is most helpless. And the
same is true of so-called extempore composition. 'J'he 11crvo11s excitement ntto1ul:mf·. upon fncing nn audience nets,
in many cases, strongly as a stimnlnnt to UJl(lne expansion.
lnspired by the occasion, tho speaker "S}Jins out" his
utterances in blissful unconsciousness of the fact that he is
spinning at all. How often is the delegate to some conv,mtion, or the participant in some general debate, where
only a definite number or minutes is allowed to each
speaker, called ruthlessly to his scat by the descending
gavel before he has fairly bt~gnn his introduction! When
analyzed, thl_s undue expansion, in written as well as in
extempore c~nposition, will be found to result almost entirely from giving to some division or subdivision of the
subject more than its proportionate amount of space or
time. With a careful out.line before him, however, the
writer has a constant check upon this tendency. The
framework is a gauge by which he can, at any point, compare and estimate, thus learning where to prune and where
to expand.
By preparing a framework u~fore beginni11g to put his
ideas into defin1.te fo1·m, tlw writer is enabled to read up lds
sul!fect acc1trately awl pi·ofitabl?f.
With only a few hours aYailable for the work, and with
anywhere from five to twenty volumes before him, ench of
which may contain facts or suggestions pertinent to his
theme, he must have clearly in mind the points on which
he is seeking information, 8 0 that he may read by indexes
antl tables of contents; olhcrwise, his reading must result
only in confusion arnl fn.ihm'. In imch preliminary ro1uli11g
it is not necessary to make Jong verbatim extracts. Only
short catch-words and expressions need be noted, with the
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THE 0 Ul'LINE.

PR.A C1WAL WIE1'01lJ(J.

amount of gronnd that can be covered in this way, even in
an hour, by a well-trained writer would astonish any one
who has been accustomed to "read up" s ubjects withont
fo~·ming preliminary outlines. It will be fomul, also, that
this process of reading, like that of re ll1· ~ tion on the rcsp.ective snbdirisions of an outline, will often sugaest to the
mmd ~t her s'.1 bd ~ ri sions ; ~o that, to recur to -0~11· figure,
the bmld er will fmd , and msert or snbsl;itnte, additional
small timbers in the fr:rn1ework while he is pr0pm'iiig the
boards to cover t hose ~!ready in place. For let it always
l~e remembered that, m the wonls of Wl1atuly, "the outIme should not be allmred to fetter ll1e writ er. It slwuld
sene m erely as a hack to mark out a path for him, and not
a groove to confine him."
. If the lhe.1~e if' .one wilh which the 1rriim· is comparatively nnfamilrnr, l11s reading may cau se him to increase or
to r earrange even the main heads of his outline; but this
will be only an additional proof of the neefl of an outline.
Let it also be remembered that the only practicable
method of reading in thi s ag e of the world is by indexes.
If a book has not a good inrlex, hot ter throw it asirle and
ta.ke np 01~e that has. No well-informe<l wrilcr or publisher
will now issue snch a volume. Among g(•1iernl indexes
doubtless the most h elpful is that mo11nmcntal volunrn.
"Po?le'~ In<lcx." Hy this book, to be found in every good
pubhc hlmtry, the reader is directed intelligently to the
best thoughts of the best contemporary thinrrnrs, on almost
~rery possible subject'. for the last seventy-Om years. Rs
its nse, the current htemtnrc si11 r:e 1809 hL·eo111es to the
writer a vast storehouse of information a11il s uggestion.
Another most pmct,ic:al help in pndi111i11ary r1 1ading arc the
monthly reference-li Hls issued Ly the librarian of the
Pro.videnc~, ~t I., public library. These Jisb:; give the
available b1bhog rnphy of such subjects as arc. for the time,
befo~e t~1~ public 111i111J, antl of starnlnrd subjects arbitrarily
but JlHhc1ously selected. They are to be fou11d in most of

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our college and public libraries, and :tfford an excellent
ill nstration of modern praetical tendencies in this direction.
In concluding this section we cannot, perhaps, do better
than to quote the following from l\:C1m1h: " 'What, read
books !' said one of the great lights of European physiological tScience to a not less em i uent American scholar. ' I
never rearl a book in my life except the Bible.' He had
time only to ghmce over the thousands of volumes which
Jay around him, to consult them occasionally, to accept the
particular facts or illustrations which he needed to aid him
in h iR own researches."
The following outline for an essay on "'l'he Character of
Mrs. Browning" will illustrate what has been said concern, ing the method of reading with an outline. 'l'he books to
which reference is made, in brief, are: the "Encyclopredia
Britannica," "Chambers's Encyclopredia,''the "Diamond"
a11rl "Ucd _Linc'' editions of]\[ rs. Browning's poems, her corrnspon<lcncc with Uor,e, l\li s;i 1\litfor<l'R "Hccollections of
a .Li terary Life," Bayard Taylor's "Views Afoot;" an essay
by 'l'heodore Tilton published in a collection called "Sanctum Sanctorum," and fonncl also as an introduction to the
fonr-volnme edition of her poems, lSG '.!; Hillard's "Six
Months in Italy;" and an article by E. 0. Stedman in
Scribne1''s .Magazine, vol. vii.

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I. Iuflucnces surrounding her earli er years.
a. That of her father.--·' My Public and my Critic," Britannica H!l1; Dcdit·alio11 i11 crlilion of llH·i .
b. Th at; of her tutor. - Tilton 27, l'ocrns 89 and !l7.
c. That of her general rcadi11g.-A~schylus, Plato, 8lrnkespcare, Mitford 172.
IT. Plwses of her character as indicated in her early works.
a. Her industry.-Thc Yoh1111 c of Plato, Mitford 171, lho
Hebrew Script url'R, 1'nih11er 10fl, aml l'ol'ms 331.
b. F.ITeets of her brot.11cr's deal h.-Scclusion , Tilton 30.
c. Her inclcpendcncc.-Tilton 28.
III. Influence of marriage upon lH'r charactcr.-Scrilm cr 108.
a. Love nntl courtship. - Tlw eomplimc11t in "Lady Geraltliue's Conrtship," 1'00111~ 4118; The chance meeting, Am. CycL 76Cl, Tilton 32.
b. Her life in Italy.-Tillon il!i and 7, Hillard.

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l'UAC1'ICAL lllIETORIC.

THE OUTLINE.

c. Matornity.-Tilton 63, " Stand out. into the Sun!" Poems
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IV. Hor .religious views.-" The Touch of Christ.'s Hand "Bri-

V.

tannica H!l l; Earnestness, Scribner 113· Swe<lenborgi~nism
Scribn er 114, Tilton 56-7 and ii9.
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a. As man!festcd !n her poerns.-pp. 52, 88, 134, and 386 .
.b. As ma111 fcstc<l m her own tcstimony.-Lctters to Horne.
Vrnws of contemporary problems.
a. Slavery.-Tilton 41 ancl Gi, Poems 134.
b. .Ju ve nil e lahor.- l'nnnrn 299.
c. Tho social (!Vil. - L'ocms fJ05.

<1. Woman's rights. - Pooms 341.
VI. Co11olnsion.
a. Her eomparnfirn Rtnrnling :rn a poPt.- Tiritannion 391 ·
co11.1parcd ll'ilh I,:111dor, t'crilmcr 104; Sonnets:
Sonhnor 109; compared with Thnckcrny, ibid. 111.
b. Her work for humanity.
1. ltaly.-Thn 111011um!'nt. llillard · Devotion to Itnly,
Til ton i.l:l and 34.
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2. Engl:111d. - Till.011 :l:i.
3. World at largo. -Tilton 24.

A tldrd advantage of outline consi1·uct1'on 1'.s tl1e mental
disciplin e afforded by tlte process. H is an admitted fact,
tha~ th e best mental training is afforded by those branches
that c?ll for the. 1~ ost carefu l and co11 ti nno11s process of
anal~s1s; and t his 1s pre-eminently th e prnccss employed in
forri:1mg an essay ou.tline. It is a con stant analysis, accomp am cd by that prcv1011s Ryn thcsis 011 which all analysis dep ends. If a stu1le11t were to write in this mann er continually _for four year~, upon th e widest variety of subjects,
rea(lmg and rcflectm g carefully on each and analyzing his
resnlts, h e coulrl hard ly fail t hns to become liberally educated. The analytic mind is always the strong mind.
l\IETHOD OF O"C' TLINE CONSTRUCTION.

I.laving pointed ont the importance of the outline, it remams to offer some suggestions as to methods of construction.
The t estimony of the most successful teachers is unanimous in favor of assigning subjects in a general way. 'l'o
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to encourage loosen ess of t.honght, and possibly plagiarism.
On the other hand, to assig n to every member of a class the
same subjed is to make the work of both the teacher and
tho class, as a whole, monotonous and Iifclesfl. The method
of assigning general subjects fairly avoids these dangers on
either side.
Suppose, then, that our theme ifl to be a description of
some ob:jcct or collection of objec ts that we have personally
soon. Suppose, for example, that wo take some largo public b11ndi11g with which we :ire familiar. 'J'horo is perhaps
no better way than, as Hill says,* to "surround the theme
with questions." Concerning the theme in hand we might
ask as follows:1. Where is it?
a. Jn what villngo or cil y. what. county, stnte, etc.7
b. In what position with reference to surroundir;ig objects 1
2. What is its shape?
3. What is its size?
4. Of what materials i~t nrn<l c?
5. What is its nrchiteoturn.1 Rf.yle?
6. When wns it built,?
7. For what purpose WllR it hnilt?
8. How docs it fulfil that 1rnrpnse?
!I. What is the arrangement in ~ ido?
10. How is it finished inside ?
11. How is it furnishcrl ?
12. How is it ventilated?
13. How is it lighted?
14. What did it cost?
15. How docs it compare with other buildings of its kind 1
a. In cost?
b. In architeoturnl bcant.y?
c. Jn convenience?
16. What is its value to th e town?
17. How is it finished outside?
a. Cornice.
b. Tower.
c. Paint., etc.
Rearranging these questions logically, in tabular form,
and addiug snbdivisions naturally suggested, we have the
followiug outline : """""=~.::...--:.-.-.. ----- · - - ---- - ~ ----- ----- -------

* ";EJemcnts of Hhctoric," p. 13.

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PRAC1'ICAL JWETORIO.
TIIE G - OPERA-HOUSE.

I. It.s locntion.
a. Jn what. town, State, ctc.7
b. Position with reference to prominent buildings.
c. At junction of what streets.
II. Its history.
a. Wl11~11 built, by whom, etc.
b. Its purpose.
c. ]t.H co~t.
III. Hs exterior form, in general and in detail-use some type.
1V. Its size, in gr:11eral and in detail.
V. The matcri:il.
VI. Its arch itectural style.
VII. Its interior arrangement.
a. Mai 11 floor.
b. Stage.
c. Balconies nnd boxes.
ll. Jl[ethod of ventilation.
e. Methorl of lighting.
VIII. Its nrla.pbtion to its purpose.
IX. The style of fini sh.
a . . Ontsirle-l. Cornice ; 2. Tower; 3. Paint, etc.
b. lns1do- 1. Natural wood; 2. Frescoes; 3. Upholstery etc·
X. The furniture.
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XI. Comparif<on with other buildings of its kind,
a. 111 cost.
b. In 11rchitcct11rnl beauty.
c. 1n con rnn icnce.
XH. Conclusion.- Its value to the town as au cducnting influence.
This done, the next step is that of expanding these divisions and subdivisions by reading, reflection, and conversation. For instance, on I. the writ.er will need to study a map
of the town anrl to observe tho building from different points
of view. On 11. he will need to consult local histories, old
files of newRpapers and the like, and to converse with older
citizens. 'l'ho cxpan ';ion of III., IV., and V. must (lopon<l
mainly on the writer's observation and imag ination. On
VI. ho will perhaps need t.o consult some oncyclopredia or
work on architecture. 'L'o expand some subheads of VII.
he may neerl to consult a practical artizan who is familiar
with tho building. On VlII., IX., nnrl X. he must expand by means of reflection, conversation, and observation.
Wherever technical terms are necessary for accurate descrip~

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tion ho will need to consult technical works or technical
workers. XI. will be oxpa11 dccl 11y all three of tho methodR
:first suggested, while XII. will depend mainly on reflection.
As fast as results are obtained. by reading, reflection, etc.,
let each be noted, under its appropriate h ead or subhead,
w£1!t. s0111c 1:ntcll£9iblc catd1-·11•onl ur c:i·111·rssfon, and, £n the
r:irso 1~( /' n11di11f/. with the 7)(1!/1' 11111l vu/111110. It will rca1lily
ho soon tlmt when this has been done the real burden of
tho work ou I.he essay has already been performed. It romai ns for the writer 011 ly t o pn t the ideas already obtained
into clear, elegant English sentences n,ncl paragraphs, giving
his urnlividou attention to questions of style and form ratlior
than of thought. And, as has been said, this is enough
for one mind to do at one time. Goocl English, to say
nothing of elegance, is almost a rarity. A similar method
-may profitably be used in constructing outlines in Narration , Expo3it.ion, and Ar~1_rnentation . A word, in conclusion, as to tho mochanicar'.'orm of the outline. Too much
care cannot be taken to keep di visions and sn bdi visions distinct. 'J'his can best he <lone hy 11r;ing sncccssivoly tho
the Homan, literal, and Arabic notations as in the outlines
already sketched.
SPECIMEN OUTLINES.
NoTE.-ln illust.ration of tho preceding pa.rngrnphs of this

chapter, tho following out.lines arc appended. They a.re not given
as morlolR, but simply nf! illustration,; of rcR11its that havenctually
\Jeon obtained by tho methods already suggested. They m·? .t~kcn
verbatim from actual essays as these were presented for critic1sm.
A Qn.11rn1t Tmrn.

(Description.)

I. Introduction.
a. Causes of special attention.
1. Sacredness attac;hing to tho name of Quakers.
2. Historical r0\e o[ (-/na kors in the United States.
3. Scarcity of Quakers in bodies.
b. Means of informat.ion.
II. Situation.
a. Geographically.
b. Advantages of same..
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V.

VI.

c. Resemblance of situation to other places.
1. 11 istorical.
2. Modern.
Iuhahit:rnt.R.
a. Number.
b. Disposition.
c. Habits.
d. Leading ritizcns.
1. l'rofcssional.
2. llusincss.
Industrirs nnd public buildings.
a. J\fcchanical.
b. J\f ercan t ilc.
c. Uo tds, clinrch , schools, etc.
P cculi :Hitics of th n town .
a. Q11iet11 rss aiul qnaint,ncss.
b. No nccrl of. poor-master, constable, etc.
c. " Friend "-lincss.
d. Comparison of ad rnntngcs and disadvantages over
other villngcs.
Conclusion. -Impressions and Hctlcctions.

FIVE YEARS' ExPEnIF.NCF. WITH A SUNDAY-SCHOOL CLASS.
(Narration.)
I. Jntro11n ction.
IL M:y hnsitation abont taking the class, and the first Sabbath.
III. Tho daf<s.
a . <lriginal members.
b. Clmngcs.
IV. Th e scholaro:.
a. Pcrsonnl appearance.
b. Characters.
c. H omc surroundings.
V. The work.
a. Diffi.cnltics.
b. ·willingness of children to learn.
c. New ]l(~ rpl cx i!ics.
ll. One lio11cfit.
VI. Mcmori Ps.
a. The f:nnday-school hour.
b. Confidence and good-will of the children.
c. A (leat: h-bcd.
d. A Chrii:;t.maf\ moming.
VII. Scholars at present and a thought about the future.

'

2'10

, THE 0 U1'UNE.

CHARACTER OF JOHN E. VASSAR.

(Exposition.)

I. I ntro<l uction.

II. Who .John Vnsflar wa!l.
a. Oonsin of Matthew Vassar.
b. Early life.
c. Conversion.
Ill. Life work.
a. Work for souls.
b. "Shepherd's dog."
IV. Qualifications for work.
a. Power of endurance.
b. Magnetism.
c. Power to read chara cter.
d. Sancti lied common-sense.
e. Sincerity.
V. :Methods of work.
a. " In season and out of season. "
b. Came rlirectl y to the point.
c. Use of lliblo i11 work.
VI. Char:wtcr as seen in work.
a,. Forgiving.
b. Devoted to work.
c. Prayerful.
d. Consecrated.
e. Humble.
t
Conclusion.

MORALITY OF HOMEltIC MEN.

(Exposition.)

I. Statement of subject.

II. Respect for gods. Shown:
a. By submission to thci1· will.
b. By witnesses of compacts.
c. By solemnity of oaths.
d. By punishment of perjurers.
e. By prayers.
III. Sclf-restrnint Shown :
a. By moderation in la11ghtcr.
b. By silence.
1. On the march.
2. On the battle-field.
c. By pati ence.
d. Individual instances.
1. Achilles.
(a) Jmpnlse to slay AJ{amemnon overcome.
(b) Reception of hcrahlF,
2. Diomcdes.
e. Moderation in winc-1lrinking.

260

PRAClTOAL RIIE1'01ll0.

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IV. Family affection. Sho\vn:
a. By Ulysses.
b. By Simousi us.
c. By parting of ll octor and Andromache.
d. By Pl'tH'lnpo.
e. In laws afft!1!I ing suppliants ar.d gucets.
f In marriage-vows.
v. Resnme.
" A TALE

OF

Two Crrrns."

(Exposition.)

I. Introduction.
a. The ant hor.
b. (fonera.l i<lt•a of hook.
c. Value of s11ch a book.
1. When written.
2. Circumstances of writing.
II. Plot.
a. Ground work.
1. Time.
2. Condition of society.
3. Place.
b. Story of plot..
III. Characters.
a . Principal: I,ncy Manet.to, Dr. Manette, Mr. Lorry,
:Madame Defarge, Darnay (Evremonde), Sidney
Carton.
b. Secondary: Jacques (Dcfarge :md three), The Marquis a11d Brot.lwr, .J 110. Bar~nd, Hoger Uly, Stryver,
Miss Pross, Gaspard, Urnncher.
IV. Crit icisrns.
a. Weak poi11ts.
1. Lengthy co1wenmtions.
2. Weak characters.
3. No definite point.
4. No particular hero.
b. Strong points.
1. ]'lot. :rnd characterR rcal,-exeept Mr. Lorry and
Uruncher.
2. Strong description n1ul <lccidcd views.
3. Interesting conversalfons.
4. Gradual increase of interest.
5. Excellent English.
6. French phrases omitted.
c. In general.
1. Comparison of man·~ emotions to nature.
2. UloscR before the st.o ry is finished.
V. Impressions left on the reader.
a. Feeling of reader at close.

261

1'HfiJ 0 U1'LINE.

jf'. Ol!ject of writing the book.

·

c. Gradual i11creas1i of plot from harmless to tragic.

VI. History of book.

EccF.NTltlCITY. · (Expmdtiou.)

I. Introduction.
a. Vaine of a painting.
1. When pcrfoet.
2. Wlmn 111aiTL'11.
b. Vaine of cha racter.
I I. Societ.y's Laws.
a. Punishment for i11fri11gc11rnnt.-Hermit.
LIL Distinction betwL'l'll i11dividuality and eccentricity.
a. Definition of each.
b. Simile of iiower-gardcm, Rose and Weed.
IV. Comparison ~f Individ11a.l it,y and Eccentricity.
a. Resi:iect1ve rank antl value. Illustration, Oscar Wilde.
b. Genms ennobles a11<1 elevates.
c. Eccentricity hindon;.
d. Eccentricity nscd as a cloak to cover vice.
V. Resmne.
Hum LICENSE on

P1toHIBITION?

(Argumentation.)

I. Introduction.
t
ci. Power of conviction.
1. lndivid11al.
2. National.
b. Our political cont\ ition.
c. Prohibition a co11viction.
II. Diverse met.hods amo11g temperance workers.
a.. Extreme prohibitionists.
b. Partisan slaves.
c. High-license advocates.
III. Arguments of advocates of high license.
u. Legislation docs not. change character.
b. Reforms should be gradual.
c. Half loaf better th:i.i1 11ol:hi11g.
d. No compromise, to abolish part of an evil when unable
to do more.
e. Successive steps to prohibition.
1. No sale to minors.
2. No snle t:o dr1111kards.
3. N? sal? of adulterated liquors.
4. High license.
5. l'roh ibition.
f Close iow groggeriQ.~.
g. Hevenue.
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262

SUGG
]fol~

TION OF EsSAY THEMF.S FOR A SCHOOL YEAR.

he following nrrnngcmcnt of gcncrul themes ha.'! been found

al anti progrcssh·c:-

FIRST TF.UM.

A description of >:omo object or collection of objects which the
writor has nct.nally seen.
·
2. An argumentative essay.
3. A narration of some personal experience, real or imaginary.
SECOND TEHM.

1. An exposition of some historical or fictitious character.
2. An 1trl-{11mc11t.ativc essay.
3. A book-review.
THIRD TERM.

1. An imnginary argumentative conrnrsation between two or
more persons.
2. A paraphrase of some selection of standard verse in elegant
nnd n.ccuratc prose.
_
3. A paraphrase of some selection of standard prose in heroic
entameter.

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DESCRIPTION.

PRAOTIOAL RHETORIC.

IV. Arguments agnin~t high license.
a. Moral antl legal fo rces should be combined.
b. Wickedness of action may be suppressed by law, not
sinfulness of <lisposition.
c. High license centralizes au<l strengthens the rum
power.
d. Giltls the traffic with respectability.
e. 1ncrnases garnbli11g.
f. I>oes not succeetl in closi11g low <lrnm-shops.
g. High licc11se a failure in practice-Hon. li. W. Hardy
-Hon. ,J. B. Finch.
h. Wrong in principle.
V. Couclnsion. -Quotatiou froumi~...w"'----

pract

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OHAP'l'ER III.

i

DESCRIPTION.

I

COMPOSITION may be divided into Description, Narrnt.ion, )
Rxposition, Persuasion or Argumentation, and Versification. 'rhese different kinds of composition, respectively,
may be aided by the use of certain general devices, and are
equally liable to be marred by certain general blemishes.
'l'o state and illustrate these devices, and to warn against
these general errors, is the object of this chapter and of
those that immediately follow.
A mistaken idea of the dignity of descriptive writing is
more or less prevalent. Stndcnts are apt to be satisfied
with nothing less than the exposition of abstract id eas and
profound generalities; a tendency that too often results in
the iteration of the merest tllatitndes. They forget that
there is no higher attainment in literature, none which
has given to its possessors more histing fame, than the ability
to make pen-pictures-to so represent. a Rceno in words that
tho reader becomes, for the time, an acL1ml observer. Hrnry
community, every class in school or college, has those who
can ably ·maintain an argnm ei.t or fairly expound an abstract idea ; but masters of description are rare.
The ideal, in Description, is so to represent the object or
objects described that tho same or similar impressions shall
be made upon the mind of the reader as were produced by
the actual object upon the mind of the observer. In other
words, the first essential is vividness. In securing this
vividness, certain methods are helpful.
1. T!te reader should grrin a pei:fectly elem· and pe1·mancnt idea ~f tlie general shape <!f lh.e nl~fcct desc1'1:bcd. 'l'his
impression of shape is ono of the first that the mind re·

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DESCRIPTION.

ceives when confronting any object, and it is most clearly
conveyed by means of some well-known type ol' symbol.
For example, in slrnpe, Italy is likened to a boot, or to the
letter !, ; the earth, to an orange; a b11 il1ling, to tho letter
J'; a constellation, to a dipper; a pi ece of lan1l, to a wedge,
and so on.
171c 0111,11 rrr111isilr is that tho symbol selected
be one that is gcnornlly nudcrntood. '!'he following passages will illnstrate the force of this suggestion (the
italics are ours):-

pursuivants, and a st.rong body of men-at-arms for maintaining
order and ascertaining the quality of the knights who proposed
to engage in this martial game. "-Scott in "Ivanhoe."

''.Tho scene was sing~ila_rl y ro1!rnnfi e. On t.he verge of a wood,
winch .approached to wit.Inn a mile of th e town of Ashby, was an
extons1vo mo:ulow, of Urn fiJH•sf a.11d mnRt hc~ntifol green tnrf
s11rrounded on one side hy the form;t, :nul fringed on the other IJ~
sl raggli11g o:tk-!ree;;, so1110 o[ whic h had grown to an immcns.e
i;;ize. T~e grom!d, as if fashioned 011 purpose for the martia l display which was mtend ctl, sloped gradually down on all sides to a
level _bottom, which was eneloscrl for th e lists with strong pnlisa<los
formmg a space of a quarter of a mile in length , and about half
as broad. 1'/ie form of the enclosure teas an oblong square, save
th a t the corners were considerably round ed off in order to afford
more convenience for the spectators. The openings for the entry
o~ the c?m batants _were aL the north cm and southern extremities
of tho 1.1sts, acccss1ble by _st_rong " ·ooden ga.tcs, eac h wide enough
to admit ~wo horsemen ndmg abreast. At each of these portals
were stationed two heralds, atte nded by six trumpets, ns many

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265

PRAC1'IOAL lll1E1'0RIO.

,,Tho floor was composc1l of emlh mixcrl with lime trodden
into a hard suhstauce, snch as is often Pmp loyed in flo~ring our
mod ern barns. Fur ahout one quarter of the lrngt.h of the 11p11rtment the lto~)r was rru sed hy a Rtt•p, arnl this space, which was
calle<l tho dais, was occnpierl only hy the prineipal members of the
f'.lmily and Yisil<;>rs of distillfd ion .
For thiR pmposr, a tnhle
richly covered with scarl~t cloth w:~ s placed trn.nsversely across
the platform , from tho nmldlo of win ch ran the lon"er and lower
11narrl, at wl1i"h Ilic <l11m('sfics :111<1 i11r1 ·rior pcr"~1s f1•d , down
towards th., l.Jullum uf the hall. Th e whole resembled th e form
oftlt c letter 1', or some of thoso a,11<;ieuL din11er-laliles wliieli m·rangod on the. same principleR. ma.y ho Rt ill R<'Pn in thP rmt\ri11P
colle1<es of Oxford or Uambridge. Mal'F: iVP Phair~ a11<1 seHlrs of
carved oak wore p laced upon tho <ln i~ , a111l on•r t.l1ese seats and
the mo.re elO\·;.fc<l lable was fasLe11eL1 a ea11upy of cloth, which
SP;rv:ed n.1 some <l c11 rce to protect the digni taries who occnpicd th at
d1~t111gm~hod. slaf.1011 from t.lu• W('nlhl'l', :md r~pel'ifllly from th e
ram, which, 111 some places, fo11nd if s " ·a:v throngh tho ill-!'onsLrnct,ed roof. "- lJesuription of the Hatt of Ueclric the Saxon in
Scott's "Ivanhoe."

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"ThoRo who woulrl got a clnar i1lna of t.l1r. hattlo of Writ.orion
ha ve only to lay down 4pun th e ground in their . minds a ca1~ital
.A.
Tho left stroke of -,r;he A. is I.he roa1l from N1velles, Urn nght
:-;t.rok o is I.ho roarl from ' Gc nappn, 010 cro:-;:-; of the A. is Ow s1111kun
road [rom Ohain to JJraine -lc-1,cude. The top o[ the A is Mont
Saint Jean Wellington is there; the left-hand lo wer point is
Hougomout, Reille is there "·it.h Jerom e Bonaparte; the rightlmmi lower point is La B elle Allia11ce, Napoleon is t hero. A
little below the point whore the cross of the A meet s allll cuts tho
right stroke is La Haie Sainte.
At. the middle of this cross is
t.110 preoise point where the final battle-word was spoken. Th.ere
tho lion is placed, the involuntary ~ymhol of the fn1prcme hermsm
of the Imperial Guard. The t.rianglc cont.:dno!l nt. th" top of the
A , h0t.\Yc"11 t.110 t.wo st.rokns and th n oms~, i~ th A plrttrau of 1lfont
Saint Jean. The struggle for this plateau was the whole of the
battle."- Victor Hugo in ''Les .Miserables."

2 • .l'l·'ext in vividness to I!te impression of shape comes
that o( mrrq11it11de. Jn stnting the Rize and dinwnsion~ of
Lhe oGj ect,' Lhc wrilcr urnsL e1nplo,1 iwL vnly uLsvluLe 1111ils of
11H~n.m1rcmcnt, such as inches, l'cot.. miles, etc .. lmt also relative unit s; that is, he must produc~an impression of t he size

~

I

of the unseen object by comparing it with that o{ ono with
whid1 the rearler is fomi linr. If, for example. T nm told
that a certain army contained so many thousand men, my
impression of the sim is vng1lC'; h11t if r nm tol<l also thnt
the soldiers of that army, standing close, would just fill a
field with which I am familiar, the impression becomes
mu ch more vivid. If told that a certain buil<ling in Bgypt
is just as long, three times as wide, and twice as high as an
ordinary railway freight-car, most Americans would have
a very fair conception of its size. 'l'n ke the following p11ssage from Dickens's "American Notes" (the italics are
ours):" Thus, in less than two minutes nft.or coming up?n it for the
first time, we all by common co11se nt agreed that t.his state-room
was the pleasantest and most facet ions and capital contrirnnce
possible; a.nd that to hare it one inch larger would have hcPn
quite a disagreeable and deplorable state of things. And with

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268

PRAOTJOAL RIIETORIO.

DESORIPTION.

!·his, _and showing ~ow we could mmrnge to insinuate four eo le
1~t? it.? _a_n. at .?•~e tm1c; and entreating each other to observ~ h~w
'ery_m•J it \\,1s, and how there wns a beautiful port-hole whicl
c~ul1~ be kept open all dny, and how thern was quite a large bull's;_
lljC JUSt over the look111g-glass, whieh would renrler shav·n
.
pcrfo?tly easy a11d _deli.!.! ht f1.il procc~f'; we arril"c<l, at !~st, ~t 1h~
~1~anT1ous conch!s1011 t l_mt 1t was rather spacious than otherwise·
01~g l I do v~nly hcl1 n~·e that, ~cd11cti1ig th e two berths ~n~
abo'e the oth?1, tlian. wh1_ch not.hrn~ snrn ll cr for sleeping ii; was
ever ma~~e except :off111 s, 1t. was 110 b1ggr<r thau one of those hackney cq.b11olets which ha ve tlle door behi11d, and shoot their fares
out, hkc sacks of coals, upon the pavement."
f "Tl
, i ? .c~rs nro I"1kc.s!1abb!J om1_1.il111ses, lmf larger; liohling thirty

O~) , 1_1Ity people.

ll! e seats, mstca<l of i<t.rctching from end t~
Th 01.
is a long row of them on each side of the caravan a nar.row 1 e
sn~c up. the midd_le, and a <loor at both ends. Jn th~· cent)e~f
t~ite' c~u rage ~her? IS usually a stove, feel wi th chnrcoa\ or antbra0 1 e con , 11 11r h is for the mo~t part r<'d-hot
Jt · ·
and ·
ti
rs msuffcrau'·l y
.
close·
' • .- ) 0 11 $CC JC 11ot. nn· Jluttering brtwecn Yourself aml
ot11er obJect. you may hnppcn to look at, like ti1e g host of ~mo~~~;

?TI , m e placed crosswise. Each scat hol<ls two persons

1 1

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t ''. It ""~ a Y<'ry dirty winter's <In~-, nnd nothing in the whole
own 1oo cd 0111 to me except. the mud which in some arts w
al~~~t: kuec,-<l;~cp, and might haY!"' bee;, 1lepositerl thct; 0 ; 1 t~~
s 11 s1, 11'.g of f ie wakrs nft_l'l" tlw J)('l11gc. Jn one place there wns
a nc1~ "oodcn chur.ch, wh ich, ha Ying no steeple, and bein 'et
nn1t1~mt cd, lo?kcd hke an enormous packing-case without a/fyJdi
rec 1011 upon rt."
".After a

nig~t's rest

we rose cnrly, and in good time went

~-o'~ ~ toy1? \\·l1mf, n~<l on bo111:d the pncket .New York for New
o; k. l ~11~ " ns the _first Amcncan steamboat of any size that I
1!ac seen, .111d certnmly to an En.,.lish eye it was infin"t l J
like a stcambo~. t than a huge floati~1g bnth. I could 1:a:d~ ~~~

!

Sll~dc n:ryse.~_F, mrl ec~, but that th e orrthi11g establishment off\iest1111-11~le1 B1 ~d[Je, wl11ch I left a bahy, had s uddenly gro\\"n to an
·t
enmmous size, run away from home and set. ll}J in f ·
ns n steamer."
•
ore1gn pa1 s

3:

Some ol~ject.q, a_r;ain, are so constructed that neither

tl~ei_r ~;i:ternal_ slwpe nor their size c0111•eys to tlte reader a

i: 1vul impression _of their real form. 'l'his is especially true
of .tho~e that radrnte from a common centre, like a tree, a
s~1der s "~e b, _or a wheel. l?or exflmple, the visitor to the
city of "ashrngton, although well informed about its sizo
and external form, is thoroughly mystified by its angular

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267

parks and diagonal streets, nntil he learns that the avenues
all branch out from the capitol as a common centre, while
the lettered and numbered streets, run, respectively, parallel
and at right angles each to each other; then, immediately,
all becomes clear. Often :.t canal, a river, or a principal
street affords the base-line by reference to which the other
p:.irts of a town may be vividly described. Countries and
continents are likewise described by r eference to central
mountain chains. The gre:.ttest opportunity is hero ofiered
for the play of the imaginat ion. The more original and
striking the type tho more vivid the impression. In Les
Jlfiserables, describing the sewerage system of Paris, Victor
Hugo says:
"Imagine Paris taken c~Jike a cover, a bird's-eye view of the
suhterranean network of t.he sewers will represent upon either
bank a sort of lmge branch enyrajled upon t11e river. Upon the
right hank, the belt-sewer will he the trunk of this branch, the
secondary con<luitR will be the limbs, a.ncl the primary drains will
be the twigs. This figure is 0111.v general mHl hnlf exact., the right
angle, which is the onliuary angle of this kind of umlergroun<l
ramification, being very rare in vegetation."
4. Som.etiines the o~ject or scene is of such a cliarnder
that 1"t cannot be seen at n11e v·iew and can be clearly described only by rep'r esenting it under a succession of
aspects. This method is known as "the panoramic view."
Aside from the necessities of the cn,se•it gives vividness by
its resemblance to the actual manner in which snch a collection of objects is alw:.tys seen. In making use of this
method the writer must be especi:.tlly careful to shift the
scene completely and distinctly, so as not to commingle
and confuse different aspects of the panorama. Take the
following selections for illustration:" From this delicious spot, th e Spaniards enjoyed one of the
grandest prospects in nature. Before them wns the steep ascent
-much steeper after this poiut-which they were to climb. On
the right rose the Sierra Madn'. girt with its dark belt of pines,
n.ncl its long lines of shadowy hill s stretching away in the distance
To the south, in brilliant contrast , stood the mighty Orizaba
with his white robe of snow 1lcscemling far down his si<lcs, tow
ering in solitary grandeur, the giant spectre of the Andes. Be

268

PRA OTIOAL RHEJ'ORIO.

DESCRIP1'ION

h ind th em, th ey behel <l, unrolled at th eir feet. t he magnifi cent

"That gloomy-looking ~ ison on your right is a. prison for
women· once it was n convent for Lazarists: a thousand unfortun ate 'indivi<luals of th e softer sex now occupy that- mansion;
they bake, as we find in the g niclc-books, t1.1e bread of l_l-11 the
other prisons; they mend and wash t he sl11rt.s an.rl stockmgs of
all the other prisouers. Bui- we ha.Ye passed the pnson long ago,
a nd nrc at th e Porte St. Denis if self. There is only time to take
a hasty glan ce as we pass : .it commemorates some of tl~c wonder ..
(nl feats of arms of Ludovw us Magnus, and nbon11<ls m ponderous allegorios-- nymph s, a nd rinJr-god;;, and pyramids crowned
"·it-h llcurn-cle-lis. Passing, th en , round tho. gate, an<l not under
it (aftor t.ho g<"ncral cusf-.om, in rns111 ,!'f. nf t.r111111phn.l a.rche~). yon
cross tho ho1'il eva rd , which giYes a. glimpse o[ trees aJHl su11s hi110,
a111l gleaming white buil~lin gs; I hen, da_shing <low1; t ho !ltte de
Bou rbon Villeneuve a duty stn•ct, wluch seems mtermmnble,
anrl t he R ue St. En;taclw, th e co1Hl11clor gives n last blast. on !~is
h orn nut! the great vehicle clatt ers into the comt-yar<l, where its
j our~ey is destined to conclude. "- Thackeray's " Paris Sketches."

Uerra .caliente., with its g;1y confusio n of m ead~ws, streams, and
fio~ermg .fore~ts, sp1:i11 k led over with shining I~1<lian ' 'ill ages,
wlule n f1u11t !me of light on th e edgo of th e l1on zon told them
that. th ere was th e ocean, heyou<l which were Ole kindred a.1111
country they " ·ere many of them n ercr more to see. "-Prescott
hi ' ' 1'/te Con quest of 1liexieo."

"Nothing ro11M be more grand th:rn th e Yi ow wl1iel1 met the .

e~«' from th e :in·a o n the trun cnted s11111111it of the pyramid. Towa~·d s the west. sl rntcl11:d tha t bold harri t•r of pmphyritic l'O<'k

\rl11 eh nature has n•ared aro1111tl th e Yallry of MPxico wit.h th o

l111g~i J'opocntt•p<'ll and .l zlaeeihnatl st arn°li11 g- like t\\!o colossal

sc:nt11H:ls to guard the ent rance to ll1 e e111; ha11l ecl region. Far
n~rn y. to th e east. 11·as seen lh e cn11icn l heml of Orizaba soarin g
hi gh mto.th e clouds, a11d nyare r, th e .ba n:r11 though beaut.ifully- _
shaped S ierra d e /tJ 1lfiilPnd1e, thromn.l( 1l s broad shadows over
th o pl:iin of Tlascaln.. Three.of ~ht•f;t' a i·o Yolcm1 oes, higher than
th e hi ghest. mo1111b1.111-pPak 111 Luropr, and shrouded in snows
which never mel t. lllHler th e fi erce ~1 111 of th o tropics. A t th o
fo<;>t of tho spectat<;>r la y tho sacretl city of Cholula , with its
bnght towers a11d pmnaclrs spnrkling in th e sun , reposing nmidst
gnrdens a nd \' Onlant grovrs, wlii r h th ere thi ckl y studded the
cultivated C!1Yirn11s of the cn pit::t l. l:l uch was t he magnificent
1n:ospe~t wl11ch met-. th e gaze of .th e Co11q11l•ro rs, and may st.ill,
with slight. cha nge, meet that of tho mod ern traveller as from
th o platform o( th e great. p~Tmnid th e eye WntHl<'rs over' the fairest port ion of th e beautiful pl nlcn n of P11 chl11. ''-Ibid_
"Stretching fnr nway flt th ri r feet, wc1'P srpn noble forests of
oak, sycamore, a nd cedar, a nd IJ1'.ro11rl .Fllo w fields of maize and
th e toweri11g 111 a.g11ey 1 • i11l t ~ n11i11 !-(l t'< I wi~lt orchards and IJloomiug
ga rdens ; for flowers, 111 s11ch dt-.·11u11ul for t.l11·1r n ·li!-(ions fosl-intls
wei·o even moro n1Jumla11t. i11 this pop11lo11 s 1·nllcy' ll1an in othc{·
parts of An:\huac. In the cent.re of th e grnat basin were beheld
th e lnkes, occupying th en n n111 ch lnr.l(<!r porl ion of its stufar-u thnn nt. present ; their hord pr~ thi ck ly stwlded with towns
and hamlet>;, nt11l. in th e midst., -Jikc some Ind ian empress wit.It
her coron:tl of pr arls,- t.hc fair cil y of MPxicn, \Yit-lt her white
t<lll'f ll'S mu! pyramidal t<•111plt's, reposing, as it wcro, on the bo om
of the waters,-t he far-fam c<l "Veni ce of th e Aztecs." High
O\'!'I' all rose tl w royal hill nf Chapoltrpcc, th e r esidence of t.he
Mexican m'?narchs. c!·owncd 1~· i t h the. snruc g rove of g igant-ie cypresses which at t ins clay f1111g th eir broad s hacl ows over the
land. In th e di8ta 11 co IJcyoJHI th p bln e wnten; of the lake nnd
n early sercen ~d by int,encning foliag~, was seen n shining speck,
th e rtvnl capital of 1ezcuco, and, s till farth er on, the da rk belt
of porph~Ty, girdling th e vallt•y arnund , liken ri ch setting which
Nature had devised for the fairest of her j ewels. "-Ibid.

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5. A study of the inrrsterpfrces nf description 1·n any language will show that these o/;e tlteir power and v1:vidness
mainly to the fact t!tat the.11 an• 1:11tensely i ndiviclnal. 'rb~t
is, the scene is r epresented jnst as it appeared at a certam
point of time. Every d etail of color, of lig ht. and sha~c,
of form, attitude, and action, is wronght out mmutely, g1vi11 g, as it were. an instantnneo us photogrnph. Thus, by
n ami ng a few things many are suggested.
On this p oint Herbert Spencer says :-*
"To select from the sentimc11t, scone, or event described,
those tyv fra l elc111e11ts which carry «tmy others along with
them, nnd so, by sayin_g a few t hings but suggesting n_iany,
to abridge t h e description, is t h e secret of producmg a
vivid impression. An extract from 'l'ennyson's ' Mariana'
will well illnstmte this:
" 'All clay within th e drP:t111y house
The door upon t.ho hin ges creaked,
The bluo fly sung i' tlw pa ne ; the mouse
Behind the mould cri11 ,g wainscof·. shrieked,
Or from the crevice peered about.'
" The several circumstances here specified bring with
them m any appropriate 8.'!Socfations.
Our attention is

* "Philosophy of Style," p. 30.

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l'RAOTICAl; .llllETORIC.

DESCRIPTION.

rarely drawn by the buzzing of a fly in the window, save
when everything is still. While the inmates arc moving
about the house, mice usually keep silence; and it is only
when extreme qnietnoss reigns that they peep from their
retreats. Hence, each of the facts mentioned presupposes
numerous others, calls up these with more or less distinctness, and revives the feeling of dull solitude with which
they are connected in our experience. Were all these facts
detailed instead of suggested, onr attention would be so
frittered away that little impression of dreariness would be
produced. Similarly in other cases. Whatever the nature
of the thought to be convoyed, this skilful selection of a
few particulars which imply the' rest, is the key to success.
In the ch oice of competent itleas . as in the choiqe of expressions, the aim must be to comcy the greatest quantity of
thoughts with the smallest qn::mtit.y of words."
The following selections will further illustrate this method
of gaining vividness:"It wns his own room. Them wns no doubt nbout·that. But
it had 11111\ergonc a R11rprisi11g transformation. The walls and
ceiling were so hun g with living green , that it looked a perfect
grorn; from erery part of which, hright. gleaming berries glistened . The cri ~ p lt·aYe~ of holl.1 ·. misll ctot•. and ivyTcflcctcd hack
the light , as if so 111any liltle 111i1Torn hat! been scattered I.here;
and such a mighty blaze went roari11g up the chimney, as that
dull petrifaction of a hcarl h had m:vcr known in Scrooge's time,
or Marley's, or for mnny and many a winter season gone. Heaped
up on t he fioor, to form a kind of throne, were turkeys, geese,
game, poultry , brawn. great joints of meat, s11cking-pigs, long
wreaths of sausages, mi11cc-pics, plnm-pwldings, barrels of oysters,
red-hot chcshrnts, l' hNry-c hcckccl apples, juicy oranges, luscious
pears, immense twell'tlt-cakcs, and seething bowls of punch, that
mado tho d1n.111her dim with their delicious steam. In easy sf·atc
upon thi.; co ueh, f'hPt'c sat a jolly Giant, glorious to sec; who bore
a glowing toreh , in sha.pe not unlike Plenty's horn, and held it up,
hi _~h up, to shed its light. on Scrooge, as he came peeping r ound
the door."
"The ponltcrers' shops wrrc still half open, ·and tlie fruitcrcrs'
were radiant in thefr glory. There were great, round, pot-bellied
baskets of chestnuts. shaped likf' the waistcoats of jolly old gentlemen, loll ing at the doors, and tnmbling out into the street in
their apoplectic op11lcnce. There were rudely, brown-faced, broadgirthed Spanish onions, shining in the fatness of their growth like.

Spanish friars, and winking from their shelves in wanton slyness
at the girls as they went by, and glanced demurely at the .lrnn~­
up mi st.!etoe. There were pears and apples, clustered h1~h m
bloornirw pyramids· there wore bunches of grapes, marlc, Ill tho
shopkccj;crs' benevolence, to dangle from conspicuous hooks, that
people's mouths might wat"er gratis as tl.JCY J?a.ssed ,; there were
piles of filberts, mossy and brown, recalling, m then·. fragrance,
ancient walks among t.hc 1·.-oods, and pleasant Rhufl~r~gs ankledenp t hrou gh wit.herccl 1Pa1Ts; there were Norfolk h1f1111s, squah
and swarthy, setting off th e yellow of the orangoR and lemons, and,
in the great compactness of t hnir juicy P?rnons, urgently entreating and beseeching t.o be cnrncd home m paper bags and eaten
after rlinner. "-Dickens in "Christmas Carols."
'·The family always came to church en prince. T.hcy were
rolled majestically along in a carringe emblazoned with arms.
The crest glittered in silver mdiance from every pa.rt of the
harness where a crest could possibly be placed. A fat coachmnn,
in a t hree-cornered hat., richly laced, and a flaxen wig, curling
close ronnd his rosy face, wns seated on t.he box, with a sleek
Danish <log beside h'irn. Two footmen, in gorgeous liYcries, with
huge bouqnets, and golc~-hendcc! e:i!ies, lo!led behir.td. The. carriage rose and sunk 011 its long sprmgs 1ntl~ pc?uliar statclme~s
of motion. The Ycry horse!'\ eliampecl t hc11· bits, arc l11-rl their
necks, and glance< I t-l1 cir eye~ 111orn 11ro11<1ly than 001~1111011 l!orses ;
either because they hnd cn11ght a. ht1le of the family fcchng, or
were rcine<l-tUJ more tightly t han ordinnr)'..
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"I mnst not forgot the two sonf! of t.his 11sp1rmg c1t1:r.cn, who
c:11nn f o church in ii clashing t'. llJTicle, with outriders. Tlu ~y ll'Cl'll
arrnyed i.n the extremit.y of the mod.c, with all that pcdanlry_ of
dress wluch marks t.110 man of qncst1011a.ble pretenS!ons to st) le.
They kept entirely by thcmse~rcs, eying. every one nskn_n.co that
came near them, ns if meas11. n11~11s claims to rcspcctab11tty; yet
they were without conversat ion, except t he exchange of an occasio 1i a.l cant phrase. They even moved a.rt-ilicially; for th~ir
bodies, in compliance with t hn caprice of tho dn.y, had be-en disciplined into the absence of all ease and frce<l?m. Art had done
cvm·ything to accomplish t.IH'lll as men of faslnon, but nature lwtl
denied them tho nameless grace. They wero vulgarly shaped,
like men formed for the common purposes of life, and had the air
of s11pcrcilious assumption which is nernr seen in true gentlemen. "-Irving in " '/'he f3ketch-1Jool.-."
"I threw aside the newspapnr, arnl explored my way to the
kitchen, to take a peep at t.lw group that appeared to be so merry.
It was composer! partly of tr:wc ll crs who had arrived some hours
before in a diligence, and partly of the usual attendants. and
hangers-on of inns. They 1H11:e seated round a great bt!rmshcd
stove, that mig_ht have bcc_n 1wstaken for an altar, at winch they

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wore won<hipping..

PRACTICAL RRETORIO.
lt was covered with various kitchen vessels

of rcsplernl ent lmghtness; 1nnong which steamed and hisse<l a
l~~i.te copper tea-kettle . . A .large lnmp threw a strong mass of

li,..,!1t upon th e group, brrngmg uut many odd features in strong
r el!cf. Its ~·cllow ra.1·:~ partially illumined the spacious kitch en,
clrmg ~l11sk1ly awa.y . 111to r emote corners ; except where they
settled 111 mellow md1anee on th o broad gi<le of a flitch of bacon
or were ref!ccted bnck from well -scoured utensils that gleame(i
from th e nndst of obscnrit.r . " - Ibid.
'

"Op1~o~ito us is a fruit:stnnd. The proprietor has a bald h ead,
a long f.tco, and :t nose like 11H' bca.k of a hawk. He sits upon a
onrpet spread upon t!10 rlnst ; tho wall is at his back; overhead
lm11gs a f<cant ~m'fam; around him, within hand's reach and
~I.Tanged upon hf.fie ~ f·ool~ . lie osier boxes full of almonds grapes
figs, and pomt:gra nn tes. To him now comes one at wh om' we' can~
t! ot help lookrng , tho11 gh for :mulhl'r reason than that which
hx n<l .our 1·.1·c:'I upon the gl:idialorn ; ho is renlly beautiful-a
~cauhful Greek. Aro11ml his tornples, holding the wa.ving hair
1~ a crow.11 of Jn)'.l'tl c, to whi ch still cling tlrl' palo flowers and ha.If~
r1po .benws. lhs t11111c, Rcarlot. in color, is of tho soft.est woollen
fa.,bnc; belo.w th e .g inlle o~ b_uff leath er, which is clasped in front
~j a fantastw de.vwe of sh.mrng gold, the sk irt drops to th e knee
m fol<.~s hc:wy with emb_roidery ?f t he same royal metal; a. scarf,
also "oollon ,. '.llld of mixed wlrrtc and yellow crosses his throat
a.nd fn~ls trn~lrng at. his hack; his arms and ,;,gl'!, wh ere ex posed
a~·e white as. 1rnry, 11nd. of the polish impossible except. by perfect
t1 o::itmcnt with bat h, OJI, brnshcs, and pincers. "-Lew Wallace in

"Ben Hur."

6. f!~ference .to circumstances £nscparnbly n.~socinled willi
tli.c ob;ect described gives vividness. Take the following:
"After ridi11g: a ~ hort distance, we came to a spacious mansion
of freef<to~o, b111lt m . tire Grecian st.ylc. H was not in t he pnrrst
taste, yot.1 t lrarl arr rm· of clega11ce, and t.hc Rit;uat.ion wa.s delightful. . . A 11~10 l~wn slope1l. away from it,. studded wi.th clumps of
tre<;s, so ~lrs!Jose!~ ns to .b1 eak a soft fc1:t.i1~ country mto a va.rict.y
of l.tndsc.1 pcs. lire J\{ e1scy was see n w111cl111g, a broad qui et sheet
o~ water, f'.11ro1.' .g h a.11 t•xpaus~ of green mea1low-land; while tire
" els h rno1111ta111~, blended with clourls, and melting into dist.anco
bordered t ir e hori zon. "-Irving in " 1'11.e Sketch-Book."
'
. " But hark! T~1c Waits are pla.y~ ng, :u.1d they break my childish sleep! What 1mngcs do I associate with the Christmas music
as r see th em set f?rt.h on th o Christmns Tree? Known before
all the othr:rs, kccpmg far apart from a.11 the others, they gather
~ound my little bed. An angr;l, speakin~ to a group of she1)herds
m a fie~d ; some travellers, with eyes uplifted, following a star;
a baby m a manger; a chikl in a spacious temple, talking with.

273

DESORIPTION.

grave men ; a solemn flgure, with a mild and beautiful face,
raising a dead girl by the hand ; again, nea.r a cit.y ga te, calling
back the son of a widow, on his bi ei-, to life; a crowd of people
looking through the opened roof of a chamber where he sits,
and 'Jetting down a sick person on a bod, with ropes ; the sa me,
in a tempest, walking on th e water to a ship; again, on a seashore, teaching a. great multitude; aga.in, with a child upon his
knee, and other children round; again, restoring s~ht to .the
blind, speech to th e dumb, hearing to the deaf, health to the swk,
strength to the lame, knowledge to the ig nora nt; again, dying
upon a cross. watched by armed soldiers, a thick darkness coming
on, t ho earth begi nning to shake, a nd only one voic:o hear?,
'Forgive thmn, for they know not what th ey do. ' "-Dwkens, in

" Christmas Stories."
"At the foot of these fairy mountains, the voyager may have
rloscri o<l tho light smoke curling 11p from 1t village, whoso shinglcroofs gleam among tho trees, ju st where tho uluc tints of tho upland melt away into the fresh green of tho nearer Inndscapo. "-

" Skrtch-Book."

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" So close in poplar shades, lror children gone,
Tho mother nightingale lam e nt ~ a11111e,
Whoso nest some prying churl h:ul fouml, and t.hcnco
By stealth conveyed th o unfeathered i1111ocencc."

- Virgil, '' (Jeoryics."

7. Again, reference to the lmman fe elings nnt?trally
associated with certain o~jects g1:ves peculfrti• vividness in
1Jescriz1tio n. Tako tho following (the italics aro ours):
"W hoever has made

voyage 11p tho Hn<lson must romcmbor
They are a di~ml'mberr1l branch of tho
grca.t Appalachian family, aml nr~ seen away to ~he '~' eRt of tho
river swelling up to a noble height, and lorrlwg it over the
s11rrc:1111cling coun try."-" Slrctclt -llook."
"They left tho high -roa.d by a wcl_l:n)mC!nhcr~<l lano, and
soon approached a mansion of <11111-rcd thck, wi t h a little. wen;th~r­
cock-sunnountod cnpola, on th e roof, and 11. bell ha.ngmg 11~ 1t.
It was a la rge house, but o~o of hrok cn fortunes; for the sp:ic11.~11s
offices wore li t tle used, th en' walls were damp a.n<l mossy, their wmdows broken, and their gates clccaycd. ]<'owls clucked and strutted
in the stables and the coach-houses and sheds were overrun
with grass. Nor was it more rctP11tirc ?fits ancient state, within;
for entering the dreary hall, nnd glnncmg throug.h Urn open doors
of many rooms they found th em poorly furm shcd, cold, and
vast. Thon, w~s an earthy savor in the air, a chilly bareness. in
tho pl nee which associated itse~t' sonichow with too much getting
up by c~ncUe-light, and not too much to eat."-" Christmas
11.

tho l<aatskill mo1111taim1.

.Carols."
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8. D("f}ere11l p((rfic11lrrrs fo DescnjJtion necessarily aid
each othm·. A pen-picture of the valley of the Shenandoah
for instance must in vol rn, and is assisted by, a description
of the mountain-ranges on either side.
·
9. Somctimc,9 the use nf a sfogle word or expression in t!te
fnrm of a"fi91trahve epithet i llumines a scene as with a flood
of electric light. Carlyle is noted for these master-strokes.
Note, also, the folfowing:
(a.)
"An impio11s rnort.al gave the darin,q wound."
(b.)
"Cnst.ing a dim r rli:!fious ligpt."
(c).
(r7.)
(1>.)

. . . "And rrndy now
To stoop with 11:ear ierf. wing anil willin{I feet."
"Why pcPp your 1·011·anl s words ha!( out their shells I"
"Arni howling te1 n pt•st, s l.l!c'r~ thcfca.rleRs ship."

10. In general, it is better to use the present tense in
ilescnj1hon of what lurs been seen in the past. This as-

sumes that the picture is actually before the reader, and
gives to the writer many advantages in the way of vividn ess. There is no surer way of deadening a description or
of confounding it with a narration than by making continual use of a past tense.
11. Pi11ally, avoid co1~f'ounding Descn :ption with Nnrration. Let there be, in the pen-11ictnre, only so much of
narration as is absolutely necessary to introduce or properly to connect the whole.
811m111a1"y .- Vividness, then, is often secured by givi~g
a clear idea of shape through some symbol; by comparing
the size with that of some well-known object; sometimes
hy using a radiating type; by making the scene individual
in time, attitude, color, etc.; by using the "panoramic
view" wh ere this is necessary; by reference to inseparably
connectccl circnmstanccs; by reference to the associated
human feelings; by making one particular assist another,
and by using the "historical " present tense.

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OIIAPTER IV.
NARRATION.

IT is often difficnlt, sometimes almost impossihlr, to distinguish between narration arnl description. One often
ReemR to imply the other, c~pcr:ially. when cleRcription iR
basell on the panoramic view. It should be rememberctl,
however, that narration is to time what description is to
space.
Pure description may be define1l as the representation of
an aspect or succession of aspects in relation to space at one
definite point of time.
Pure narration, on the other hancl, is the representation
of an event or succession of events in relation to time during
an interval more or less prolonged. Hill defines the theme
of narration as " a series of related events occurring in
time."*
"The basis of narration," says Bardeen, "is active progress; that of description is rest, abiding characteristics." f
1.'he aim, ·1:n 11m"1·ati:n11, is to proclnce upon the mind of
the reader or hearer, in so far as is pissible, the impressions that would have been produced had he been a participant in the scenes related.
That such impressions can be produced by the writer,
1lcpends upon the fact qiat the human mind is so constituted that we naturally sympathize with the states of feeling seen or described as existing in our fellows. We exult
in displays of strength, wheLher of body or of mind, almost
*"Science of Rhetoric," p. 86.

f "Complct.c Rhetoric," p. 243.

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PRA01'ICAL RHETORJ(J.

as much when exhibited by others as when by ourselves.
Likewise, we are disheartened or displeased by the ~ccounts
of weakness or failure. We are grave or gay, excited or
subdued, accordingly as, in imagination, we live over again,
ourselves, tho scenes of which wc read..
Narration has, nal:nrall y, two great advantages over description; the first arises from the constant employment of
human p ersonality and the appeal to human sympathy.
The second is that of continual suspense. In most descrip- ·
tions, after the gronnd-plrm is well sketched, the reader
can easily anticipate and fill out for himself many of the
intervening spaces. Not so with narration; the tendencies
of different individuals, and the possible result of circumstances in each case are so widely varied that no one can I
easily foretell just what any actor in the drama will do
next. In these two characteristics, personality and natural
suspense, are to be found the reasons why narration, especially in the form of fiction, is by far the most popular of
all forms of ~ompos ition.
SUGGESTIONS.

1. Gain a clear idea of lite scene, and change it as little
as possible.
If tho successive events in a narmtive be represented by
a stream, then there must be an expanse of t.erritory, a
channel through which that stream may flow. In other
words, there must be, expressed or understood, 1t clear idea
of the scene where the events are emicted. As the clear
understanding of the whole narrative depends upon its relation to this gronrnl-plan, it follows that the plan must be
changed or reconstructeu as little, and as seldom, as possible. For example, if the essay be the story of a day's fishing, the circumstances selected should be those so adapted
to some general scene that the ln.tter need be sketched but
once for all. Or, again, if the narrative be that of a
drowning accident, let the snccesPivo occurrences be re-

NARRATION.

277

lated, if possible, as they would have appeared to one person viewing the whole from one definite point of observation. A change of scene always tends toward confusion.
Carlyle opens the sixth chapter of his "French Revolution" its follows :"And near before us iR Vcr~aillcR, nr,w and old, with thal.
broad frondent Avenue de Versailles betwecn-stately-frondent,
brnad, 300 feet, as men reckon, wit.h its four rows of' elms ; and

then tho Chftteau de Versitilles, ending in royal parks itnd pleasances, gloaming lakelets, arbors, and labyrinths."
2. In order to be forcible, ciw.ry narrnHve 11111sl lirri.•c a
climax, a culrni11ati11g po£nl ~{some k'111d. From almost
any series of events, however simple, one can generally be
selected to which all the rest ham contrilmted, and toward
which all centre. Of course, this climax or "catastrophe"
of the plot, as it is technically called, will be more or less
striking itccording to the simplicity or complexity of the
narrative; but however · simple the series of events, the
central purpose must be clearly determined at the outset
and kept constantly iii view. Upon its character, itnd its
relative position in the narrative, must depend largely the
selcqtion or exclusion of different occurrences from a series
that has really happened.
Only those circumstances should be selected, therefore,
that are relevant to the .purpose and cardinal in impor tance. While significant de Lai ls are most im port:wt, aml
result in giving interest to a narrative, the most common
blemish is the mention of commonplace and unimportant
occurrences, simply because they hap1Jened in connection
with those of more importan ce. 'l'o retain the interest of
the reader a narrative must not be so fi~d with unimpor·
tant details as to weitry the memory. If, for example, the
essay is an account of a journey, it is not always necessary
for the reader, to know all itbont the start and tho prepitmtion for the start. 'l'he ability wisely to omit is one of the
first requisites for a successful narrator.
Another violation of this principle is that of undue expansion. If the story is lhat of 1t camping expedition, the

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reader does not need to know the entire biography of each
member of the party.
Another error, confined mainly to those writers of trashy
literature whose productions are i1aid for according to the
space that they fill, consists in attributing to persons in
certain critical situations forms of expression that would
be most unnatural in such a case.
3. Exc1'Pl in jir:hti:ous 1wrmtion, .'Jive notice of a cliauge of
scene. In case it is necessary. to shift the scene, as sometimes occurs, let the most careful and formal notice of tho
change always be given. This suggestion applies especially
to those cases where two or. more concurring streams of
cvf' nts are being carric1l forward at the same time. In introdncing the sixth chapter, book J., of his "Conquest of
l\Icxico," Irvi11g says:
"We must now tako leave of tho Spanish camp and transport
ourselves to tlrn distant capital of Mex ico."

And in Chapter IV., 13ook III., of tho same work we
read:
"At the very time when Cortez was busy r econnoitring the
Yalley, preparatory to hi !'\ siege of the cnpital , a busy faction in
Castile was labori11g to subvert his anthorit.y and defeat his plans
of conquest altogethbr."

And again, in "Uncle Tom's Cabin," where the two
distinct but finally blending streams of events are carried
so long separately, we find similar introductions; for example, Chapter XXL opens as follows:
"Our r eaders may not he unwilling to i.:lnncc bnck, for a brief
intcrvnl, at Uncle Tom's Uubin, on t.ho Kentucky farm, and see
what has been transpiring [occurringj among those whom he had
left behind."

Without these formal notices of change, much confusion
would ensue. It is to be noted, however, that narration
can generally be so constructed as to render such formal
introductions unnecessary. 'l'his is the preferable method.
4. Pollow the natural order of events. Observing the
cautions already given, the best general method is, of
course, to follow the natural ord er of events. Although

.NARRATION.

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so simple, violations of this principle .are not rare. In the
experiences of a pic-nic party, a J?upil has been known to
relate what happened after reachmg the woods, and afterward to give the occnrrenccs on the way thither. In the
higher narrative form of real history, this clearness of
natural sequence is greatly aided by the use of dates.
Chronology and geography have been called "the two eyes
of history."
5. Each occ1trrence narmted should help to explai1~ ~11rl
Jlrepare the wa!f for t!te sncccedi11!/ otc 11r~·c11~es. Snlhc1e11t
detail and sufl'tcient reference to otherwise urelevnnt facts
must be included in the earlier parts of a narrative to
render the relu.ted events intelligible. 'l'o return to our
illustration of the camping party; the writer must give
enough of the characteristics of each membc~ to enable the
reauer to understand the part taken by each m the development of the narrative. ·
6.' For the purpose of suspense, the last principle is very
often violated at the opening of a narrative. It is the custom of many eminent novelists, at the same time that they
are sketching the principal geographical scene of the story,
to lay before the reader some striking situation of the
plot. When, therefore, the reader takes np the regular
order of events, each occurrence becomes to him, as it were,
an enigma in its relation to those already related, and tho
interest is thus intensely stimulated. The opening chapter
of any of the following well-known works will illustrate this
principle: "'fhe Antiquary," "Woodstock," "Our Mutual
Friend," "Little Dorrit,'' etc.
.
Substantially the same method is employed by those lustorians who introduce their works by stating certain facts
and principles in existence at the time of '~ting, and then
trace the origin and development of these through preceding centuries. 'l'his principle or snspons? will bo.fomul
equally applicable and valuable, however, m the simpler
forms of narration.
'l. 'l'lte narrative should be complete. As inelevant

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circumstances should be excluded, so all those that are
strictly relevant should be included. Some otherwise
admirable narratives have been justly criticised for their incompleteness. "What ·became of such a one?" asks the
reader after finishing a certain story. The simple fact that
the question is asked is evi1lence that the narrative is not
complete. And here, again, is seen the importance of an
outline. By constructing a preliminary framework, the
writer can easily arrange so as not to admit more elements
into his narrative than he can fairly dispose of in the time
allowed. The practice, sometimes followed, of purposely
breaking off abruptly in the midst of a story has only the
merit that belongs to mere novelty.
8. 111111.<Ji'.native narration; the plot must be plausible.
Perhaps no other method of cultivating the imagination
is so fruitful as that of narrating imaginary events. Indeed, by this process, nearly every faculty of the mind is
brought into healthful action. The outline or "plot" of
such a narrative, as it is technically called, does not differ
materially from that of a narrative of real events: the one
represents what is past and real; the other what is possible.
The first requisite in such a narrative is that of plausibility.
The writer must constantly ask himself what action, what
speech, what results would be natural and reasonable under
certain imagined cir,cumstances. It is here that the element
of suspense can be used with most striking effect. The
common occurrences of daily life are generally too simple
and too distinct to permit the writer to arrange them into
any strong climax; but once exchange fact for fancy, and
110 may weave and interweave the threads of his tale till
the reader is lured into a delightful uncertainty concerning
the outcome; an uncertainty that intensifies his interest
till all is made plain by one grand catastrophe.
9. Historicnl narration; use sw111uaries and bad.:wai·d
references. In the more dignified and extended forms of
narration, such as history, biography, and the like, clearness and force are gained by frequent summaries and back-

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ward references, 11l11ced, respectively at; the beginning and
end of successive chapters. 'l'hus, M.otlcy iutrouuccs his
"Rise of the Dutch Republic" by rapidly reviewing the
history of the Netherlands during the previous sixteen
centuries; and in concluding his first chapter he summarizes as follows:
" Thus in this ra.pid sketch of t.li c course and dovelopmont ~f
the Netherland nation during sixteen centuries, we have seen 1t
ever marked by one prevaili11g chara cteristic, one master passion
- the Jorn nf libertv, the instinct of sclf-gornrnme11t. Large!)·
componnded of the bravest Teutonic elcmcnf·s, Batavian and
Frisian , the race ever battles to the death with tyranny, organizes
1!xtcnsivc revolts in the n.ge of Vespasian, maintains a partial independence even against the sagacious dominion of Charlemagne,
refuses in Friesland to accept the papal yoke or feudal chain, and
thronghout the dark ages strnggles resolutely towards the light,
wresting from a series of petty sove reigns a gradual and practical
recognition of the claims of humani ty."
Again, tho author of thal; remarlrnhle work, "Rccc
Himw," introduces a chapter as follows:
"Of the three part.s into which our inv es ti~ation is didded ,
Christ's Call, his ],egislation , m11l his Divine Hoyalty or rdation
to Jehovah, the first. is now complded. We have co1isidcrc1l the
nature of the Call, its difference from that which "·as gil'Cn lo
Abraham, the means which were taken to procure a body of meu
~uch as might suitably form the foundation of a new and unique
Commonwealth, and the nature of the obligations they incurred
in acecpting l he Call."
Oth er writers, especially in tracing genealogies, etc.,
borrow from the methods of Description and make use of
some type or symbol, like that of a tree.
Thi s ninth suggestion wonld seem practically to concern
only those writers who are to make literature a life work;
but such is not the case. 'fhe narration of the simplest
series of real events may be essentiaJJy a history, and may
be greatly aided by this use of reviews, summaries, and
types.
10. Keep concuJTin,q series distiuct. FinalJy, where the
occurrences are at all complicated. greatlCare mnst be
given to keep concurring scrie!-1 perfectly tlistiuct. 'l'her e
is no readie.r means of confusion than to mingle relatetl

282

283

EXPOSI1TOlt.

PRA OTIOAL 1UIETORW.

streams of events in the mi nd of the reader before t he
actual point of commingling has been reached.
Summary. In order vivid ly to reproduce past occurrences, then, the scene should be <listinct and unchanged;
the narrative should verge toward a climax or "catastrophe;"
notice shou ld be given of any change of scene; the writer
should follow the natural order of events; each occurrence
should, if possible, help to explain its successor ; the natural
order may be violateu, within limits, for the sake of suspense; the narrative should be complete ; if imaginary,
the plot shou ld be plausible ; if historical, it should be
aided by summaries aud backward references, and concurring series of events shoultl be kept distinct.
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may be defined , practically, as the statement and 'discussion of the essential attributes of some
abstract or general theme. lf all the essential attributes
are discussed, t he exposition is called " complete ;" if only
certain selected attributes arc discussed, the exposition is
called "partial." Hill says,* "Exposition consists in
suc h an analysis of a general terrn as will make clear to the
rni nu the gencrnl notion of whi ch it iH the sign." Hirnilarly, llaii1 defines exposition to uc f "the mode of h1tndling applicable to knowledge or informn.tion in the form of
what is called the sciences."
l£Xl'OSll'lON

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With Exposition in its strict scient.ific sense, the young
writer lrns little to do. Ouly years of experience arnl profound study can enable a mau wisely to enter the field of
scientific discussion. 'l'he narrower field of partial exposi·
tion, however, is perhaps the most popular of nU the forms
of composition among nnclergrnduates. Of the twentyone actual subjects quoted in Chapter I. (Par t III. ) every
one may fairly be classed uncler Exposition. T he suggestions under t his head must be mainly negative.
1. Caref1~l h~formni1'on 11ecessary. Although most frequently employed, there is 110 kind of compifsition that

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*"Science of Rhetoric," p. 05.

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demand s snch careful and exhaustive reading, study, and
detinition. In no other field is there such danger of mietaking trite commonplaces and aphorisms for real, original
thought. Vagueness and lack of point are the characteris tics of too many expository essays. Of course this
vagnene~s is largely due to the common failure to narrow
down the expository theme, as illustrated on pages 242-3.
2. A void conf'onnding with othe'/' forms. As a matter
of fact, essays iu exposition will ofte1~ be found to contain
much of pure clescription and narration; but while some
Description may be necessary in exposition, it should be
limited io the lca~t amonnt required. For example, an
ess:ty 011 "Pulilic Opinion," if i11tc11ucd to be expositoryhf
does not need to contain the history of public opinion since
t he foundi11g of Rome, nor pen-pictures of Grecian institutions.
3. S11ggesf fre questions. The accnrate treatment of a
theme in l·xposition is so rare, and apparently so difficult to
the young writ.er, that a few snggcstive questions may be
helpful. "Of almost any abstract subject," says Haven,*
"it may wisely be asked: Where is it found? How fu!"
uoes it extend ? How Jong has it existed ? How great is it,i:
power ? l s it usefu l or pernicious ? If both, where and
why is it t he one, and w~1en and why the other? Is it often
confounded with some other subject? lfso, what, and why,
and how ? Is it counc~ted with human conduct, and how?
How docs it appear by illustration and comparison with
other subjects?" etc. etc.
4. Clrnrn.c/er sketches; avoid co11foundin.q with biography. Of the different varieties of exposition, two have
been found most satisfactory in undergracluate work. The
first of t hese is the exposition of some historical or fictitious
character. The c011stant and common danger. here is tlmt
of confounding the l·xposition with narration in the form
of mere biography. 'l'he pupil flies to the encyclopredias,
" *Rhetoric," p. 330.

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gorges his mind with several articles, and then soberly relates to us when and where the personage was born and
educated, what was his father's business, what successive
official positions he held, etc., and closes with a pathetic
description of the great man's death; all of which is not
exposition, much less original composition. In fact, pure
biography and history almost preclude originality of thought.
In sketching a character, reference to such matters as place
of birth, parentage, education, etc., should be only seconuary and incidental, and may often be entirely omitted. Of
course, the biography of the personage must be carefully
read as a preliminary step ; but that biography should be
made the subject of reflection and comparison rather than
a storehouse from which the writer may draw a few dry,
threadbare facts with which to weary his readers or hearers. Let him rather take up such questions as the motives
of the personage; his ideals ; how far ho attained those
ideals ; his opportunities, and how he improved them ;
wlmt }10 mi1~lif; have accompli Rlw1l hut for c01tain barricrA;
what another woulu have <lone iu his place; his success ns
compared with tlrnt of others in similar sphcreR, and so on.
It will readily be seen that the field is broad enough not to
need enlargement by mere narration.
5. Boo~; 1·cviews; their essentials. Another variety of
exposition, and one of the most in structive forms of composition in which the young writer can engage, is the review of some work of fiction.
While all the suggest.ions that pertain to exposition, in
general, will apply here, ccrla.in specific rc<1uircmcnts
should be noted. The aim of the writer is to produce upon
the mind of the reader of the csRay the same iEtpressions
that wonld be produced by rrnding the book. 'fogether
with its general treatment, a good. book-review should
therefore include :
a. The statement of the location of tlte prind.pal scene £n
time and place. This may involve very brief description,
possibly narration.

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PRACTICAL RHETORIC.

b. A sketch of each of t!te principal characters. The
danger her3 will be that of undue expansion. Indeed, one
of th<\ chief merits of this kind of composition is that it
helps to cultivate that rare faculty, condensation. A brief
quotation from the sayings of the personage, skilfully
chosen, may reveal more of his character than pages of
description. Take, for example, the "more!" of Oliver
'l'wist; the "I. 0. U," of .Micawber; or the "Oh, how
shiftless !" of the Puritan aunt in "Uncle Tom's Cabin."
c. A bri~f 011th11e rf the plot. Here, again, the writer
must beware of undue expansion. He must select only the
main points of the story, dropping ruthlessly all details.
In an average ess~y the outline of the plot should not exceed one hundred words, at the most, and may often be
confined to fifty. This part of the composition will,-of
course, be purely narrative. In critically reviewing a new
book for the press, it is of course wise to refrain from
giving the details of the plot lest the future reader lose that
interest that comes from suspense.
d. A crilfri.~ m of th e clrnracters. Arc they true to life?
Do they talk and act as real, living people would talk and
act under like circumstances ? If they are stilted and arti- '
ficial, show where and why, using short quotations to illustrate.
e. Cri:tfrism, of the plot. Is it plausible ? Aro the
given results such as "'ould naturally come from the given
causes and conditions ? If not, show where and why. Is
the suspense well maintained to the close of the story ? etc.
etc.
f. Critfr£sm of t!tc author's style. Is he clear and concise ? Docs he abound in Jong, involved sentences, in foreign words and idioms, in provincialisms, in technical
expressions, in obscure allusions, etc. ? Are his sentences
generally suspensive ? Are the pictures so drawn as to
appeal to popular interest? and so on. This feature of
the exposition is the most pure in form and will require the
most careful thought.

287

g. 'l.7te .~pedal ohfect of th.e boo!.:. If it has had a history (and it is a very wise rule not to review one that is lesR
than twenty-five years old), then the development of this
point will include both the statement of the object, and of
the degree to which the object has been attained.
For example: Dickens' "Nicholas Nickleby" aimed at
and secured the abolishment of the Yorkshire cheap
schools; "Little Dorrit" was directed against the evils of
the debtor-prison system; "Uncle Tom's Cabin,'' against
those of slavery, and so on.
In conclusion, the pupil is cantioned against using the
seven points just given as the main heads of his essay-outline. While this might be done, it is equally well, and generally possible, to note these only incidentally, and so to
condense them that they shall compose but a minor part
of the essay.
Summary. In exposition, then. the writer should inform himself widely ; should avoid confusion with other
forms, especially biography, in character-exposition; should
employ suggestive questions; and should beware of undue
expansion.

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OHAPTJ~R

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system .. _Three possib~e c~ses ~ay exist : first, a. majority
of the citizen~ may umte m believing that the direct-pressnr? system IS chenp. aIHl eflicimit, while only a minority
behove the construct10n of water-works to be really desirable; second, a majority may ngree that the construction
of such 1~orks is desirable, but may differ concerning the
most effi_crnnt and. e?onomical means of accomplishing that
end; thll'd, the citizens may be about equally divided betw~en these two views. In the first case the effort of the
~vnter or speaker would necessarily be purely exhortative,
m _the second case it would be argumentative, and in the
third case both combined.

VI.

PERSUASION.
PERSUASION may be defined as that form of composition
designed to influence the belief and the conduct of men
according to the will of the writer. "It endeavors," says
Bain, " to obtain the co-operation of man's free _imp~1ls~s
for some proposed line of conduct by so presentmg it m
language as to make it coincide with them."*
Of ah the forms of composition, this is doubtless the
most important, both as a means of mental discipline and
as an agency in the practical affairs of life, One may
seldom feel it necessary to engage in formal description,
narration. or exposition ; but there is hardly an American
citizen wl;ose interests do not often depend upon his ability
to influence the belief and conduct of his associates. Moreover arcrnmentation often includes all tho other forms of
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composition. As a school exercise, agam, persuas1~n. is
especially advantageous. In no other form of compos1t10n
is the pupil thrown so completely upon his own resources.
Encyclopa~ dias :rncl reference-works, in general, afford little
direct help. In order to argue well upon any but the very
tritest of th emes, the writer must think. Persuasion necessarily consists of two steps : first, the end in view must be
made to appear 1lei:;irablo; and, second, the means proposerl
must be p;·ovcd to be conducive to that end. These steps are
known,-respcctively, as Exhortation and Argumentation.
Suppose, for example, that the object be the construction, in
some town, of a system of public water-works, and that the
means proposed be the use of the direct-pressure, or Holley

* Rhetoric,

p. 212.

289

SUGGESTIONS.

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1. Decide clearly as to methods at the outset. The first
question for the writer to decide is, whether one, the other,
or.both of these methods are to be employed. In real life,
this must be determined by a careful study of the circumstances and prevailing opinions in the case · in school and
colleg~ e~ercises, the writer may be guided by his fancy ;
o~ly, m cr~her case, le~ _the. decision be clear before beginnmg to wnte; otherwise, time and thought will be wasted.
Most people have listened to profound discourses intended
to prove what the entire audience believed from the outset.
EXHORTATION.

~· In exl1ortat£on, slitd.1f tlte persons addres.~ed. ~xhor.
tat_10n must be addressed mainly to the feelings. The
wnter mn~t there~ore use all possible means of becoming
well ac~namted with the sentimellts, prejudices, maxims,
and beliefs of the man whom he addresses, as well as of the
class to "'hich the hearer belongs. Every period of life,
e~ery decade, ~ve~y country, every locality has its peculiar
;10"'.s an~ preJlHl~ces. To ignore these in persuasive writmg 1B to numre failure. The autobiogmphies of the world'a
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most influential pcrsuai;;ivc writers and speakers give evidence that this study of the persons addressed has been the
secret of their success. They have not addressed their
wonls of. jH)l'Rl11tHion t.o t.l10Rn irna.~os ( conRt.rnoto<l in tho
stll(ly) of what ~en onght to be; they have mthe~ adapted ·
their appeals to men as they have found and studied them,
in the street, on the farm, and in the shop. Just here is
to be found an explanation of the meagre results obtained
by many earnest and highly-cultured pulpit orators.
Th ey continually address men as they" ought to" be rather
than as t hey are.
As a preparation for persuasion, no
amonnt of theorizing can ever take the place of actual personal contact.
3. E :dwrtation ma!/ proceed by descn".ption, narraUon,
or c.1Jposilion. The vivid description of a drunkard's
abandoned home furnishes to the advocate <?f temperance
one of his strongest appeals. The recital, by Mrs. Stowe,
of the woes of one family of blacks proved the strongest of
all exhortations for the abolition of slavery. The exposition of the plan of redemption has been the most effective
method of winning souls to Christ.
ARGW fENTATTON: ITS 1YATURE AND CONDITIONS.

There is, perhaps, no better definition of an argument
than that formulated by Bain, who saye: * "An argument
is a fact, principle, or set of facts or of principles adduced
as evidence of some other fact or principle." For example,
the fact that the highest official positions are generally held
by eclucatecl men is adduced as evidence of the principle
that education is profitable.
'l'wo conditions must exist in order to make Argumentation possible:
"The fact or principle adduced must be
admitted and sufficiently believed in by the reader." b.
"A certain relation of similarity must be admitted to exist

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p. 229.

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PERSUASION.

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between the facts or· principles ::uldnced and the point. to be
csbtblished." To recur to our illustration, there could be
no argument unless the hearer should admit that the highest
p0Rif.in11f1 rrrn gonomll,Y hnlll h.v n1lnPn.t.01l 11w11, nnd 111ilrnu~
lie Hl10ulcl. ahio admit that, on tho grou111l of nature'H unifonnity, they would continue Ro to be held. If either of
these conditions be absent, the argument must be fruitless.
'l'o illustrate further : a farmer may admit that a certain
crop not planted during full moon has failed; but unless he
admits that a similar relation between the moon and the
crop exists from year to year, the fact of failure is not to
him, an evidence that the moon's phases influence veget~ble
growth. 'l'he ~rst step, then, in pure argumentation, is
to select as evidence facfa that meet these two condi .
tious.
4. State the question ajfirmatively. Negative statement
is always weak statement. No man can proYe a universal
negative. For example, the statement, "Great crises
make great men," may be proved, but the negative state~
ment, "Great crises do not make great men," could never
be proved; for the writer could never be sure that he had
become conversant with all great crises. Some one crisis
that had produced a great man might remain unknown.
5. Expound tlte qu estion clearly at the outset. Much
so-called" debate" is utterly idle and fruitless, from mutual
failure of the parties concerned to make clear definitions at
the outset. Men often oppoi:;c one another eloquently for
hours, only to find at last that they substantially agree,
and that they have really been talking about ~o distinct
questions. For example, take the proposition, "Nihilism
is justifiable." Before there can be any fair or profitable
argn~entation, there must be a clear statement of just
what IS meant by the terms "11ihilism" and "justifiable." a!1d this statement must be such as to be admitttd by both
sides. Otherwi;;e, each debater will direct his blows against
~ome mere image of his own construction, instead of plantmg them squarely against his antagonist. In practical.

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life, debn.te, dispute, and resultant quarrelling might often
be n.verted by exposition.
6. State fully and fafrly the other s1:de of the qiiestion.
'rhere is no surer method of producing distrust in the
mind of tho hearer, :ind therefore of insuring failure,
thn.n for the spon.ker to assume that truth, justice, and
wisdom are entirely on his side, :ind to begin his argument
by belittling the en.use of his opponent: 'fhis is a mistake
too often made in debating societies. The writer or speaker
must p roduce and maintain the impression that he is treating his subj ect fairly. 'l'he moment t hat this impression
is changed, that moment bis failure is insured. A glance
at the opening paragraphs in almost any of the speeches of
the world's great orators will con firm this principle.
7. In stro11g opposition, stale agreement with an opponent. As a corollary to the last suggestion, it may be
added that where strong opposition is expected, from popular prejudice, or other causes, it is essential that the debater
cause his agreement with his opponents to appear as complete and as extensive as possible. As an illustration of
this, note the wonderful skill with which Antony begins
his speech to the rabble after the murder of Oresar, and
after the speech of Brutus in apology for the deed:-" Jlrionds, Romnns, countrymen , lend me your ears;
I come t.o bury Cresar, not to prnise him;
The evil that men do lives after them;
Tho goo1l iR oft intencd with their bones;
So let it be with Cmsar. The noble Brutue.
Hath tohl yon, Cresar was ambitious:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grieY011sly hath Crcsar answcr'd it.
JI em, under leave of Brutus and the rest,,
(.For Drut.us is an honorable man;
So are they all, all honorable men,)
Come I to speak in Cmsar's fun eral.
Ho was my frieml, faithful and just to me.
But Brutus say~, ho was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honorable man.
He hath brought many captives home to Rome,
Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill.
Did this in Cresar seem ambitious?

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When that the poor h:we cried, Crosar hath wept :
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff.
Yet Brutus says, he was am bit.ions ;
And Brntus is an honorable man .
You all did see, that on t.110 Lupereal
l thrice presented hi111 :t kingly crown,
Which ho <lid thrice n·f'11Ho. Was this arnbition 1
Yet Brutus says, 110 \rns nmbitious ;
And, sure, ho iR an honorable man.
l i;peak not. to disprorn what" Hrnt 11s ~poko,
Hut here l am t,o Hpeak wliat l do know.
You all did lo\'C h i111 011ee, not wit.11out cause :
What cause withholds you, then, to mourn for him 7
0 judgment! thou art tied to brntish beasts,
And men have lost their reason I-Bear with me·
My heart is in t.l1e ooflin there with Crosar
'
And I must pause till it come back to me.'"

Note also the consummate skill of Paul as he appears
before the cynical Athenian philosophers: Acts xvii. 22-31.
'fhe speaker mu st win the willing ear of his hearer at
any sacrifice. Otherwise he might as well address dead
walls.
8. Anticipate. possible oNect ions. In written argumentation, where the debater is allowed but one speech, any
possible objections existing -in the minds of those addressed
should be anticipated and carefully met. This should
generally be done soon after beginning the argumentation,
in order to free the h earer's mind from bias before he
listens to the main positive arguments. Here the imaofoa.
f
b
tion o the writer finds full scope.
9. Adduce tlte arguments separately. By thi~neans
not only is clearness insnred, but each successive argument
secures in the hearer's mi1ul a definite habitation, so that
he may carry it and consider it in making up his final
decision. While the ordinal numbers may be used for this
purpose, it is even better to apply to each argument, if '
1wssible, some terse epithet that will easily fix itself in the
mind of the hearer. For example, one of the most common arguments in favor of the tariff is familiarly known as
the "infant-industry" argument.

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PRACTICAL RHETORIC.

10. ~Jfe1·e number clues not give force. The multiplication of points numerically is often a sign of weakness.
'J'he debater who ransacks the universe for arguments is
liable to produce the impression that his cause is desperate.
A drowning man will catch even at straws.
11. Arrange the ar.gmnents to a dima:i:. Climacteric
writing, of any form, is always_ the moRt, effective wriLing.
As the attention of those addressed becomes more and more
wearied, the mental stimulants iulrninistered must necessarily be stronger. An<l here, again, appears the necessity
of a preliminary outline. Without first knowing just what
his arguments are to be, the writer cannot, of course,
arrange them to a climax. An argument that"is essentially
weak is doubtless better omit.t.ed entirely, but among those
that arc reasonably strong there is generally much difference in degree.
Exception. One wise violation of this principle should
be noted ; namely, the placing of one or more of the
stronger arguments at the opening of the speech or essay.
With arguments, as with individuals, first impressions are
very important.
12. Beware ~f the falla cies arising from mere association
or success ion. Th e fact that two phenomena freqnently
occur togeth er, or in r;ncceo:sion, docs not prove that one is
the effect of the other. This fallacy, known among logicians as "post hoc Cl"f/O 1n·o71lcr hoc," is by far the most common' of all. In every political campaign thousands of votes
among the laboring classes are changed by the reasoning
that, since" hard times" have existed und er the administration of one party, therefore those hard times have been due
to that administration, and there is need of "a change."
To illustrate further: the fact that ten men who have nscd
tobacco all their li ves have had remarkable health does not
prove that the use of tobacco is coudncive to hettlth. There
may be twenty other habitual tobacco-users who have been
life-long invalids.
13. Avoid confouncl£ng proof 1cilh nlustration. Almost

PERSUASION.

295

anything can be established by a simile, even opposite sides
of the same question. Witness the following from a popular novel:" He.-' If I wished to tell you how I would dwell in your
thoughts, what poet has writt.en anything equal to this half-open
burr? It portrays our past, it gives our present relations, and it
Huggost.s our fnt11re ; only, lik e nil p:imlil eR, it must not. he prN•Rcd
t.1111 l':tr or too 11111eh pro111i111m co gi1·1'11 lo 1111\l'O ddnil.
Tlic·sn
prickly ontw1ml-pointing spines repn•:;e11t the reserve antl formalit.y whieh keep comparative strn11gPr:< npnrt. Bnt now tho burr
is half op1~11, rcl'caling its heart of silk :11111 down. Ho, if one
cuultl get past the banicrs which you, alik e with all, tnrn t.oward
nn indifferent. or unfriendly world, a kindliness would be found
that would surround a cherished friend as these silken sides envelop this sole and favored chestnu t, Again, note that the burr
iH half open now, indicrtting, I hope, the progress we have made
toward such friendship, Moreover, this chestnut dwells akmc in
tho centre of the burr. We do not lilrn to sham a supremo friendship. There are some in whose cstec111 we would be first.'
"She-' Mr. Gregory, will you lend me your penknife?' (He
complies, and she tnkes the burr from his hand.)
"'Mr. Gregory, if I understand your rnthcr far-fetched intcr11rctation of this little "parable of nature," you choose to represent yourself by this great, lonely chestnut occnpying the space
where three might have grown. On observing this emblematic
nut closely, I detect something that may also have a place in your
parable,' and she pushc<l aside tho little quirl at tho small end of
the nut, which partially concealed a worm-hole, and cutting
through the shell showed the destroyer in tlie very heart of the
kernel.
,
" 'Mr. G rcgory, you have been 1111fortunatc in t.IHJ choice of n
burr. Let me select one for you, .First, you notice that it lies
entirely open; that. indicates frankness. Again, the burr contains
three .chest.nuts, which indicates the sharing of one's regard among
others, although the fac~ that one is central and larger shows
that there may still be one supremo rcganl. Under the vigorous
blows of Jell', the driver, this burr has suff:cred a terrific downfall,
and yet notice how faithfully tho three nuts have clung together. t?This teaches ns that friends should stick together through the
downfalls of life, '" etc., etc.

In a word, it does not follow that what is trne of. the
symbol is necessarily true of the thing symbolized. Because the construction of 11 goo1l cssny rescmhles thnt of
a frame house, it does uot follow that everything true
of the house is true of the essay. One object does not

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PRAOTIOAL RIIE1'0RIO.

PERSUASION.

prove the other; it simply illustrates. This method of
reasoning "by analogy,'' as it is called, while it has a certain value, has much .more weight, in the popular mind,
than is properly its due, and is therefore to be employed
with great caution.
14. Ode only accessible autlwrilfrs. In discussing questions that involve the testimony of au!horities, in his own
or other langu ages, an appeal to authorities not easily consulted by those addrcssetl, renders the speaker liable to
charges of pedantry and subtlety. 'l'he hearer is apt to'
consider such an appeal a mere makeshift employed in the
want of sound arguments. "Can yon read Greek?" asked
a collegian who was being worsted in debate by a layman.
"I don't know ; I have never trie<l," was the quiet reply.
15. In refntatio11, nnal.11ze th e rir_q11111e11ts ~l your opponent. The first step in refutation is, if need be, so to
disentangle and arrange the arguments of the opposition
that the hearer, who is the judge, may be enabled to see
clearly just how many and what these are. And here, if
the opponent be one who has written without a careful preliminary analysis, he will be found especially vulnerable.
In such cases mere analysis is sometimes in itself a compl ete refutation. Damaging contradictions and misstatements are often thns brought out, which compel an
antagonist to leave the field in shame. Another advantage
of this method is, that it enables the debater to meet what
is at once the common strength arnl the common weakness
of popular orators. Fox, the most eminent of these, maintained, we are told, that,. to the multitude, one argnment,
presented in five different dresses, is eqnal to five distinct
arguments.
His success proves th e correctness of his
theory; and a study of the speeches of the popular orators
of our own day will show that they act, perhaps uncon·
sciously, on the same principle. If, however, one of these
silver-tongued orators is met upon the rostrum by an opponent who can clearly show to thr audience that they have
been listening, not to several strong, distinct argument!~,
but rather to only one or two, dressed like, puppets,-in as

many different garbs as there are occasions, the result must
be evident.
16. Avoid over-ar,qumentat-ion. 'rl1is applies both to
positive argumentation and to refutation. In tlie first
case, especially where prejudice is to be met, there is clanger
of reaction. That which the hearer is not fully prepared
to receive must not be urged too forcibly. In refutation,
over-argumentation is liable only to magnify in the hearer's
mi1ul the weight of the arg1111w11 t a11swerC11. 0 roaL preparation implies a great undertaking. 'l'he speaker who
hurls a ponderous refutation at a weak argument is like a
builder who should erect a huge derrick in order to lift
a small st~ne ; people would infer that the stone must be
much heavier than it looks.
17. I,qnore arguments !'wt are very weak. This is but a
a corollary to the last suggestion. By even noticing some
arguments the speaker only magnifies what was before insignificant.
18. Always conclude with rt summary. Though the fast,
this is perhaps the most important of our 1011g list of suggestions. l3y its nature, arg umentation involves the fornrntion of a decision by the hearer, the jndge, after the representatives or the representations of both sides have been
heard. In order to form any fair, intelligent deeisio11, he
must catch, and carry in his mind, or upon paper, the
points made on each side. To enable the hearer to do this
easily and completely each debater should conclude with a
restatement of his arguments in the tersest language possible. 'l'oo much stress cannot be laid on this principle.
The summary may be made by citing the arguments numerically, or often more smoothly by weaving all into one
closing sentence. By way of illustration, we append several actual summaries taken verbatim from undergraduate
essays: " Inasmuch, therefore, as the Bible is the only book of mornls;
in view of its great truths and the richness of its literature; inasmuch as it. has always been a corrective for sceptical tendencies,-we claim that it ought 11nt to be cxeluded from the public
schools."

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PRACTICAL RHETORIC.

"Since, then, intimate acquaintance with books, while it greatly
enriches life, at the same time ten<ls to make men forgetful of
the great living world, and hence to mnkc them selfish; since it
gives us knowledge of human nature by rule rather tl1nn by experience ; and since the writings are not greater than their
aut.hors ; since direct knowledge of human natnre increases our
opport1111it·.ics for doing good, and is of real value even when it
displays the darker siile of life ; since it opens rich stores of
romance and poetry; and since it. is obviously a duty t.o understand the highest creat.ions from the hand of God, - surely human
acquaintances anti fric1ufahips arc the better."
'' Hcmembering, then , that the cxcP.se for war is the maintenance
of justice, and that just.ice depends 011 the reasoning faculties, not
on urntc force ; considering that very many wars have proved
ineffectual ; that t.he issue of war, depending upon chancc,-is uncertain; that many oft he finer qnalitius of manhood arc wanting
in tlJ.C professional soldier ; that war assures its own continuance;
that as rulers can agree to abide by the trial by war, so they can
as effectually appeal to arbitration-in view of all these facts, I
claim that 'rnr is 1111ncccssary, docs not accomplish its purpose,
and hence is inexpedient."
"I hold, therefore, that it is 11ot right for our government to
grant pensions to strong and healthy men : first, because tho
country had a right to demand the service of its citizens, and, if
injured in no way, they arc not entitled to a pension; secondly,
because these men have rccei red pay for their services, and ns
th is would release any contractor from all obligation, so also it
ought to free the government."
8umm((1'JJ.-In persuasion, then, the writer must decide
at the outset whether to use exhorhttion, argumentation,
or both; must study the persons addressed; may make use
of description, narration, or exposition; should state the
question affirmatively; shouhl expound it clearly at the
outset; should state fairly the other side of the case ; in
case of strong opposition, should state agreement with his
opponent ; should anticipate possible objections; should
adduce his arguments separately; should avoid mere multiplication of arguments; should arrange his arguments to a
climax; shonld beware of the fallacy of association; should
avoid confounding proof with illustration; should cite only
accessible authorities; in refutation, should analyze the
arguments of his opponent; should avoid over-argumentation; should ignore arguments that are weak, and should
always conclude with a snmm::try.

ORAL DISCO URSE.

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OHAPTER VIi.

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ORAL DISCOURSE: ITS DISTINGUISHING CHARACTERISTICS.

Tim oration is not a distinct; form of composition. In
the preceding chapters, the term ~',tilS~y" has been en'.ployed in reference both to compos1t10n ~ntended for 1~e10
pernsal and to that intenoed for ornl deliver~. In reaht.y,
no distinction is possible. lt depernls entirely upon cn·cumstances whether any one of the four forms of composition shall come to tho~c addresse~ from the lips of
the author, or from the wntten or pnnted page. Argumentation, for example, is made by some authors synonymous with oratory ; and yet the great mass o~ legal
argument, especially in civil cases, is neve: orall~ delivered.
At the same time, any article composed with a v10w to public delivery, involving, as it gcnernlly will, all four ~o~ms
of composition, should have certain peculiar charactenstws.
SUGClESTIONS.

1. Study the prospective riuclience car~fully before w~·1:th~g.
This all-important preliminary step, already urged m discussing theme-selection and argumentation~ is especially
practicable in spoken discourse. He '".'ho wr~tes only to ~e
read can neither select nor analyze lns audrnnce ; but, m
most cases, the writer for public delivery can obtain, by
observation, inquiry, and rcilection, a fair idea of the mental
acquirements, views, arnl prejudices of his prospective at~­
dience · while, at the same time, he can adapt hrn composition to 'the conditions of time and place. Such a preliminary
study will enable him to avoid the ~oo common pitf.a~ls of
unintelligible terms and references, distasteful propositions,
and the like.

