i

FRESHlVlAN ENGLISH AND
'fHEME-OORllEO'l"'ING
IN HARVARD COLLEGE

/
! BY

C. T. COPELAND
Ll~CTURER

ON MNGLISH LITERATURE
AND

H. 1\1. IUDEO U'l'
INSTRUCTOR IN

ENGLISII

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SILVER, BURDETT AND COMPANY
NEW

YOl~K

BOSTON

CHICAGO

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CONTENTS

THE LIBRARY OF
CONGRESS,
Two co~1E8

OCT.

RECEIVED

CHAPTER

5 1901

CoF'VRtGHT ENTRY

~.:t(,, ICJol

PAGP:

1 /

INTRODUCTORY

I

CLAS~ a....-xxo. No.
/Q~(J (
COPY B.

I

CIIAPTER

II

7

THE DAILY THE:\IES

CHAPTER III
CorYR!G nT, 1901,

BY SlLYER, BURDETT AND COMPANY

Tim

LATER DAILY T1n: MES -

PRESCRIBED FORMS

17

CHAPTER IV
· DAILY T1rn~rns -

29

l\l1scELLANEOUi3

CHAPTER
FORTNIGHTLY THEMES -

V

FrnsT HALF-YEAR

CHAPTER

VI

THE FORTNIGHTLY THEMl~ S -SECOND HALF-YEAR

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50

CHAPTER VII
READING, ExAMrnATIONS , GnADES, AND CONFERENCES

CHAPTER

63

VIII

CONCLUSION

79

SPECIMEN . THE.MES

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FRESHMAN ENGLISH AND THE~fE-COR­
RECTING IN HARV ARD COLLEGE
CH A PTER I
I N 'l'JW D UCTO H Y

IN English A, the Freshman course in English Composition at H arvard College, there were last year 1
six hundred and twenty or thirty students, and eleven
instructors. There are two possible r easons, th en, why
a review of this course .i n its aims, methods, and a ttainments, might not be of any service to students or
teachers of English Composition : first, the scale on
'vhich the course is const r u ct ed is probably much larger
than would be .n ecessary in most other cases ; and
second, the independence of the instructors, each of
whom is apparently allowed to t each accordin g to his
own judgment, would not seem to promise a gen erally
available method. In point of fa.ct , however, th ese two
possibilities are slight. T o the present writers, at least,
it seems that the working scheme . of English A may
• very well be applied, with modifications, of co urse, to
smaller classes or t o imli vidual students ; that the
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1899-HJOO.

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FRESIIMA.N ENGLISH

INTRODUCTORY

seemingly independent work of th e instructors will
show, when examined, similar mua11s aud ends ; a nd
that at any rate a brief explanation of the co urse may
suggest something prautica1 to one who is attempting
either to attain for himself or to impart to otlien> a
sim pi e and :uleq uate prose sty le.
For this, the lml>itual use o[ co rrect and intelligent
E1wlish
is what the instructo rs try
to drill into the
b
'
.
Fres hmen. The prol>lem is not without its difficulties.
At one extreme of this class of Fres hmen are the illiterate and inarticul:tte, who c:rnnot distinguish a se ntence from a phrase, or spell th e si mplest words. At
the other are fairly mature writers, who need only to
discard certain crudities and to gain variety and fl ex ibility. B etween these two extre mes co me many c:;o rU.;
arnl comlitiuns of students. Th e avowed objeet of the
work is to brin g all this heterngeneo us class of young
men, by constant training fron1 October till .J turn, to
the point where they ca n write English of which they
nee d not be aslm111ed.
A few men <lo more, and
achieve something like~ a sty le of their own; several
men do less, and are either r equired to take the course
again, or a,re passed on to a lmlf-course of like trai11ing .
in the Sophomote year. Th e great rank and file, .. owever, who gain steadily throughout the year, arrive
somewhere near that aclc<1uacy of expres~ion and structure which is the real aim of the process.
Before taking up this proce23 in its J etails, we r;;lmll
do well to look at a few matters of rneclmuism. At

the beginning of the year each student is required to provide himself with Professor Hill's "Rhetoric," 1 with an
English Composition Card,2 and with the regular theme
paper, which has a margin of an inch at the left of the
· sheet. He is then requested to choose, from nineteen
. "sections," that sub<li vision of the class which meets
at the l~our most convenient to him. Thus he assigns /
hims.elf, practically by lot, to the instructor who is to
take charge of his work throughout the year. Finally,
he informs himself of the routine and amount of the
work. He is to write twelve fortnightly themes, from
three to six pages in length, and on every week day a
theme of not more than one page. Each fortnightly
\
the.me, and many of the daily themes, if particularly
faulty, must be rewritten, or if fairly successful, revised.
-He is to attend three lectures or recitations per week,
- twice in his own section of thirty men or so, once in
a general meeting of several sections (called the "third
hour") to listen to readings and talks by either the
instructor in charge of the whole course, or the Dean of
the college. At least four times in each half year .about once a month - each student must hold a conference with his instructor, to review his work and learn
his individual needs. Every month, moreover, he must
read one or hvo prescribed books, of which he is

3

1 Adams Sherman Hill: "The Principles of Rhetoric." New York,
.1895.
2 Arranged by Professor Hill, and published by Charles W. Sever,
Cambridge ; it contains a key to the abbreviated marks of correction,

I

1899-1900
FORTNIOllTLY T ll EME8

Octobe r

Dec. 1;. Th eme IV. :
" An Expression
of
Opi11io11
on some
themes. Spec ia l exe rTopic of Inte rest."
l'ises in class. No
restriction as to the Dec. ~2 . The me V . :
s ubj ects of other No subject prescribed.
A criticis m of one of j
dail y themes.
the " required " books
recommended.
;
translations.

" Third -h o ur"

.January

As in December, with Jan. 17. Theme VI. :
t he addition of Invi- A Biographical Portrait.
tat.ion s , Letters of
Acceptance, etc.

February

As in Decembe r.

l\larch

As in December.

March 14. Theme VIII. :!
A Description.
March 28. Theme IX .:
A N.arr.a tive.

April

As in December .

April 11. Theme X.:
A Na rrative.

May

As in December.

May7. Theme XI.:
A Brief.
May 23. Theme XII. :
An Argument.

1

C1)'.'\Fl·:I!F.7"'4 ' E~

"King H e nry
l V., " Pan I. ,

or "Antony
an rl
C 1e op a t r a , " or
" Tw e lfth
Ni g ht. "

An examina- Mr . Kiplin g- :
Nov. 8. Thern e ll. :
tion, on e " The .Jun g le
" How to Make or Do
Book. "'
hour long,
Som ething. "
at t he disNov. :!2. t heme III. :
cretion of
' 'Something Learned in
th e
ina Col lege Cou rse. "
8tructor.

No\·e m her As in October.

Jnne

.EXAMINA'l'ION S

Subj ec ts taken from Oct. 25 . Them e I. :
observation of sur- "Who I Am , a11cl Why
I Cam e to Harvard ."
roundings . Translations 011ce a week. Due r ewritten or revised, as all ot her
" T h i r rl - ho 11 r "
fortni ghtly themes ,
themes . Special exe rwithin two weeks.
cises in class.

"December Wee kly

~1 EETl='"<i:"; :\ ;-..; P

J

Thack eray:
"Pencl e nni s, ., or Every w·ee k:
(for those who Two lectures or
recitation s in
h av e r e ad
each " section "
"Pend ennis " )
of n.hou t thi rty
"Henry Esme u: on e
m o nd. " or
m e e t ing of
"Vanity F a ir."
several united
sections, wi t h
and
lectures
The midyear
writing of
exam i na" third - hou r "
tio n (th ree
them es.
hours).

Macaulay :
Every month:
Life of Clive, or One conference·
Life of John-an inter
son, or Life of
view, for fif
Hastings.
teen minutes
between stu
dent and in
structor .

F eb. 28. Theme VII.: '
A Description.

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An hour ex- George Eliot:
aminatio n, " Adam Bede."
at the discretion of
the
instrnctor.

The -final exam in ation
(three
hoius) .

Throughout the year t he stud ents read Professor Hill's" Principles of Rhetoric." They also read one book
of "The Gold en Treasury," and commit to memory fifty lines from the Fourth Book.

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FRRSllMA .N EN GLISJJ

expected to form an intelligent opinion. Jn February
a three-hour examination tests his knowledge of the
first half-year's work ; in June the final examination
likewise brings him to aecount for the whole year; and
any instructor may, if he think Lest, hold hour examinations in November and April.
All this scheme of work might be tabulated as
on pages 4 and 5.
vVith an understanding of these requirements, at
least in outline, the student_s go to work at the task
which is first to begin and last to stop, - the writ.ing of
the daily themes.

CHAPTER II
THE DAILY THEMES

Fon the first month or more, the daily themes-which,
as a regular part of its work, the college owes to Professor \Vemlell -are written on subjects the range of
which is limited. The writers are not allowed to go
their own gait and in their own direction. They are,
on the contrary, under pretty definite orders. By far
the greater bulk of the <la.ily themes must deal with
the writers' new srnToundings. · Things that they have ·
lateiy seen in and about Cambridge, glimpses of the
college here and there, little episodes of their everyday life, - these are what they must tr.y to reproduce
in one-page sketches, four days a\week. The other two
days bring a change, to be sure, but no freedom of
choiee: on one day, the students must translate a
passage from the literature of Latin, Greek, French,
German, or some other language ; on the other, they
must write, at the class meeting of the united sections,
either a review of what the officer in charge has just
read or told them, or a comment that shows some re- ·
action. But two thirds of the daily work lies in local
and contemporary description or narrative. The young
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F'RES!IM.I K F:NOUS/l

TIIE IJAJI, Y THE JI ES

men must not d rna m dreams or see visions, not recall
their childhood, 01· their first fish, or tl1 e ir last summer
vacation; they are to open their eyes, and k eep them
open, to scenes a.ml eve nts near at liallll. They have
at l east a cl1a11 ce to show their alertness, and often to
descriLe witli the eye on the subject.
And just what rcs u] t appears, in these earl y batches
of themes that eve ry rnornin g corn e tu muling in through
the slots in the lloor of the co nference-room ? To any
one who shouhl start to reall them for e ntertainm ent,
littl e eno ugh; they arc for the most part far frorn
iuternsting. One is illll eed struck with the lack of
interest, the colorless, trite, impersonal way in which
the writern have reco rd ed their impressions.
One
might eas ily foresee that the range of subjects would
not be wide; yet one might expect that young men of
good intelligence would make eve n commonplace subjects more readabl e. At the first of tlie year, however,
an instructor does not find in a bulldle of thirty-five
themes perhaps more than two or t11rne tlmt see m to
come from men who have really seen anll thought for
themselves. If the instru cto rs were on the watch for
originality, this average mi ght prove depressin g . But
the instructors are look in g out for no such th .. 1g . They
forecast that tlie ge ll eml rnn of then1es will _Le stock
accounts, in stock plimses, of the melan choly falling
leaves, of the gloom that attends \rnkin g on a. rainy day,
of the gray sq uirrel s that fri sk in the Yard, of runaway
horses that" dash madly," of Saturclay football garnes,

marvelously dull, and of trips to Bunker Hill.
All
this the instructors read with a fair amount of cheerful·
uess ; for they know that these accounts, so inert and
meagre, co me not so much . from natural dulness as
from small yocalrnla.ries, feeble i:;tructure, alld the other
results of insurfi.cie11t trniuing.
Th e first e ffort of the instrn ctors, then, is not to nrnke the daily themes interesting, Lut to make them correct. /
In the two wee ks Lefore the first fortuightly theme,
these daily exercise.s are the only material from which
to teach punctuation, spelling, grammar, t.he riglit use of
words, the principle.s of :-;tructure, and whateYer else illprepared youths need to learn. . The special kind of
i:;ubject is prescribed merely that the students may 11ave
a fairer chance to mak e themselves interesting. If
they succeecl, so mu ch the Letter; but first they must
seek correctne.;;s, and live in hope that the other tl1ings
may be addecl unto them. Tl1ere is much to tell them.
Punctuation is with most of them an empty name. As
for spelling, one inan, in describing a girl's beauty, spoke
of her "noze " and " cheaks " ; and another said that a
· friend of his possessed the sense of "whit and humer."
These are exceptional cases; Lut when one comes to
strncture, the deficiency is general and manifest.
A
great part of the men disregard the limits of the sentence
and the paragraph in a way that takes one back to the
days Lefore Dryden .
A glance at the specimen themes numbered 1 will
show, perha.ps; what r~n av erage daily theme in October

9

10

FRESHMAN ENGLISH

is like, what the co rrections 1 of the instructor try to
d o, and what results are obtained in rewriting. Th e
example is chosen almost at random from a number of
ea~-ly themes.
It will be seen at once that the instructor 's marks made very hastily, as must happen where so many pages
have to be read in a short· time - are directed at a few
salient defects. Besides th e uncertainty of puneluatiou,
the too frequent use of present parti ciples is poi11te<l
out to foe writer as one of his particular weakn esses.
The only comments on the substance deal with th e
vagueness of one passage, and a questionable attempt at
bein g imaginative. All this is of co urse rou g h and
" sketchy."
Th e rewritten version, moreove r, can
hardly be t houg ht a hig hly finished work or eve n a
great improvemen t . But the two drafts llo show that
the beginner has fo r the most part und erstood the co rrections and noticed at leas t one undes irable t eridency
in his mode of expressing himself.
If we multiply by twelve this first draft with th e
corrections, 2 an<l Ly three or four th e rewritten copy,
A few of the more common marks of corrections are:
Cst. Faulty co nstructio n.
JC A wk ward, stiff, or ha rsh.
P. Fault in punctuation.
H. Redundancy or repetition.
S. Sentence objectionable in form.
For a complete li st, see the English Composition Card (p. 3, footnoi;e 2).
2 For other specimens, see the themes numbered 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6.
Number 3, although written in a year when English A was not in its
present form, is given here because the method of cn iTecting a11d rewriting is still the same.
1

THE DAILY THEMES

11

we shall have a hint of what the first two weeks of daily
themes may show an average student. It will not be
much more than a hint, however; for the actual amount
· that the student may leam in this time will depend on
· his readiness to ask his instructor the necessary questions
about the corrected themes, on his study and application
of the principles and examples in Professor Hill's
"Rhetoric," and on his attention to the talks that deal /
with this very work which he and his classmates are
then doing. The many themes that the lecturer reads
aloud to the class, with running comments, explain and
suggest important facts. Indeed, a half hour of reading
aloud, with remarks on the phrasing, structure and
general character of each theme, will show the class
more of what t.o practice and what to avoid than would
weeks of marginal correction with pen and ink. And
when a student knows that his ·t heme may come next
and be torn to pieces or· praised before his classmates,
he usually has a wholesome interest in the lecture.
The chief faults that the readers of the themes inveigh
n~ainst are - one may have gathered from what has
already been said - such as naturally fall into four
cl~ses. These are faults in spelling and punctuation,
in the use of words, in the construction of sentences,
· . au~ in the construction of paragraphs.
,· Of the four divisions, the province of spelling and
punctuation· is the one in which occur most of the
nea_~~y .: hopeless cases. A course in composition is
m~~~~~-~..t.l y n,ot a course in spelling. If a student sm

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FRRSl!.1/A N i':N(;f,JSll

this respec t crudely and uy wholesale, therefore, lie
rece ives his th eme Gack with the misspelli11gs underscorecl, with the gracle E, which means failure, arnl
with the warning tli;tt unless his spelling improves he
cannot pass in the course. In case that he lias bee n
only carel ess , this W<tming is enougli; and wiLh the
aid of spelling-books and dictionaries he can wodc out
a fair degree of salvation. If me ntally in capable of
training himself to s pell, howe vel', he must n ot hope
to get a passing grade. Thie:; rule is necessa ry. A 11<1
a noticeable te11dc11 cy
. Lo 111iss1>ell lowers da11o·cr11usl.)'
n
the grade of any work, no matt.er how capable it may
Ge otherwise. \Vit.h IJUnctuation the process is hanll:r
the same. Habitual disreganl or mis use of the nrnrks
of punctuation will, to Le s ure , earn grades as low as
Gad spelling ever gets. But punctuation, if one may
jndge from early exan1ples in English A, is not closely
enough attended to in prepa.ratory school work; and
as it is, unlik e spelli11 g , easily learned from a few
rules and exercises, it would be rat.her unjus t lo turn
the students loose with . the co mnrnnd to punctuate for
themselves or fail to p:iss. For rnles, they are direc ted
to Professor Hill's pamphl et on pun ctuation, which
briefly explains the use of the princ ipal marks, and
giYes examples. Fnr exercises, tlie follnwing simple
drill has proved faidj' e ffec tive. J\ • i11strnctor, choosing a connected passage which involves many different
punctuation marks, reads it aloud to the class, without inflection, and separated into meaningless groups
111

..
TllE DAILY THEMES

13

of words; the students take down these dictated phrases,
arrange them, and try to punctuate the whole passa~e
correctly. Some member of the class then_ reads 111s
results aloud, so that every doubtful case can be
discu.s sed and settled.
This exercise is of course
only one of several d ev ices which any instructor is at
liberty to try. It seems, on the whole, to benefit /
those men who take hold of it conscientiously. I u
spelling, the men must be left to learn for themselves; in punctuation, an instru ctor can, at the cost
of a very little time and trouble, really give them
help.
It is on the use of wor<ls and on stru cture, however,
that the inost labor rnust Le expended. The great
trouble with the use of words in an early theme is
that there are far too many of them. "R" is a mark
which the instructors must use continually in these
first weeks of correction. Most Freshmen use two
adjectives where one woul<l suffice, and a roumlabout
phrase instead of a single wor<l. But still more
noticeable at th e outset is not so much the redundant
phrasing as the general prolixity of all the theme.
It seems well-nigh impossible for most Freshmen to
bE:Jgin a piece of writing at the beginning, and to end
at the end; they mus t ra.ther have an explarnttory
prologue, and a moralizing, interpreting epilogue. A
writer is telling, for e xample, how his fire went out
this morning: he begins - "What is so cheerless and
bare as the empty grate? "
Another, to describe

14

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PRRSllilfAN KNGLJS IT

Lexington Common on Sunday afternoon, starts by
carefully explaining t hat "liavi 11g J1o thi11g to llo to-llay,
and being tired of staying in the room, a frienll and
I took a car to the North Station, a11d after half an
hour's wait, got a train" - and so forth. A third ma11,
after an account of man y perplex iti es c11co1llltered in
going by electric car to Dorchester H eights, winds up
thus: "So it is in life. 'Ve may have a definite aim
or object after which we strive, Lut if we do ii ot
learn the route . . . in the first place, we are sure to
go from the rig ht path." The men feel that to hegiu
or end exactly with the matter in haml is not graceful. It is only after many a slash of the instructor's
pen through the top and hottom of the daily page
that they learn to describe or narrate simply, without
flourish, apology, or philosophical reflection. A great
part of the correction, too, must strike at the middle
of the page, where there is generally a deal of commonplace circumsta,nce that only weakens the important details. From beginning to end, then, , in general
substance and in particular phrase, the daily themes
are valuable training in cuttin g out surplusage.
Besides using more words than are need ed, the Freshmen misuse many words and phrases. A list of the
errors in this respect would Le far too long here.
They are chiefly the common improprieties that one
hears and sees every day.
By checking off each
impropriety in the themes, and ex plaining either m
conference or in class just where the mistake lies, an

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THE DAILY THEMES

____

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15

instructor can break his pupils of many inaccurate
and ungrammatical expressions.
The same process applies to the renewal of the
Freshman vocabulary, which is a thesaurus of colorless
words and threaclbare phrases. One cannot, to be sure,
prese nt to each writer a stock of forcihle, vivid words,
and ex pect him to use them henceforth. But one can
point out - and it is necessary to point out many times
- that certain phrases do not enable a reader to see,
hear, feel, or in any way share the original experience
of th e writer. This thing or that "can be seen," or
"could be heard" ; " we arrived at our destination; "
"it was a magnifice nt spectacle ; " "a beautiful scene
meets the eye ; " "the book was intensely interesting; "
"I was nn1ch impressed;" " the play was in every way
a success ; " " thus adding a new charm to the scene,"
~these are a very few of the ways of the beginner in
his theme. Th ere is no natural sin inherent in any
of them, nor are they by any means examples of the
Freshman style at its poorest. It is not, however, a
question of right or wrong, but of better or worse. The
instructors are merely trying to make their young
charges ashamed of so much reliance on bald and commonplace phrase, and so little attempt. to find newer,
more specific words.
To teach the principles of structure from these first
daily themes is not so easy a matter. It is impossible,
at all events, to take the time, in a necessarily hurried
reading, for rearranging clauses and reconstructing

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Flu:·s 11,1t.1 N H ,V (J f,JS I!

sentenc es. An iustructor can emphasize and illustrate
in his talk s, howev e r, llie value of firn1 ::;cntcnc cs. Jle
can at leas t mark "awkward " or " stn1ggling ' ' against
passages here aml th e re, a11d trust that tl1 e writ e rs will
ask for an e xplanation. li e can indicate, too, wh e re a
paragraph sh ould or should not l>cg-in . And f111ally, lie
kn ows that wh en th e fort11i g hLly th e111 es come a11d bring
him a Lette r Lasis for illu stration, he can tum fro111 th ese
rath er empirical marks of correction to the more practical help of reanange ment.

CHAPTER III
THE LATER DAILY THE.MES- PHE.SCRIBED FORl\IS

the early the mes that must be contemporary
nanati ve and clescri ption, there are many others which /
in the course of the year are prescribed· for special
purposes. Of these the weekly translations, already mentioned, form a considerable part. Ev ~ ry Saturday the
writers of daily themes must choose a short passage
from the literature of another language, and make .of it
the best English version that they can. As a result,
there comes in every week a. strange set of fragments
from hith er and yon, - one-page bits from Cmsar,
Cicero, Virgil, Xenophon, Lysias, Herodotus, Homer,
Goethe, Schiller, Heine, 1.Vlol~ere, Dumas, Sainte-Beuve,
and whatever other ancient and modern authors a
Freshman may happen to have read or to he reading.
A 11 these passages for tran slation, al though chosen at
haphazard, se rve on e definite purpose. In the first
place, the translators are in good company. The Saturday themes are almost al ways much the best in range
of words, effectiveness of phrase, aucl firmness and
variety of sentences.
The following theme, 1 a fair example of the average,
ilE.SlDES

1

All spec imens of Freshman writing printed in the text, have been
all owed to stand as th ey were written, without change in spelling,
punctuati on, or co nstruction.

17

18

'J'JJE LATER DAILY TJJEMES- PRESCRIBED FORMS

FRESJJMAN E 1V r; f,lSJI

shows a direct gain in form \vhen compared with the
earlier specimens:

,
I

" Translation from 'Les T?"Ois Jlfousquetaires'

"It was almost midnight. Th e waning rnoon, reel as
blo~cl from t~ie lingering traces of the storm, was risi 11 ~
behmd the ltttl e vill:Lgc of Arntc11ti ercs, wltiuh ex hibited
in that pale li ght t he gloomy profll e of its houses, and the
skeleton 0£ i~s hi gh_. oma mented steepl e. 1n front, the Lys
~·o11 ed along its waters like a river of molten fire; whilst 011
its other bank, a dark mass of · trees was slt :Lrpl y outlin ed
up~n a stormy sky, coverlxl liy hrgc coppc r·1 ~o l orc d cloutl::i,
~vhwh created a sort of twiligl1t in the middle of the night.
To the left, rose n,n old deserted mill; its sail s were motionless ; and from its ruins au ow 1 ,,. ,,.. . s u tt en· ng i· t·s s Itarp,
monotonous, r ec urrin g screech. H ere and there 0 11 th e
pl ain, to the right aml to the left of the path which the
melancholy train was following, there appearecl a few
stunted trees, which looked like distorted dwa rfs crouched
down to watch the men in that ill-omened hour."
Besides this benefit, which is noticed at once, there
comes a more gradual improvem en t in the writers'
ability to seize upon a passage that shall be not a Procrustean piece lopped off at ra1idom, but a unit with
significarice and interest of its own. Moreover, although
the students are e ncouraged. to k eep as closely to the
orig inal as possiule, and so to hunt out new and e xact
words, th ey arc not Ly any mea ns ouliged to be literal;
they should rather try to catch the spirit of eac h author
in a particular passage, aml to reprod uce that faithfully, according to the En g lish iLliom. They must

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learn, too, that in technique this idiom demands several clrnnges from the original ; that it will no more do,
for example, ~o follow slavishly ,the structure than it
would to copy the punctuation ; that many good Latin
constructions are bad English; that one cannot always
translate sc11tc11ce for se ntence, and so on. The temper
of the original extracts must be preserved as sensitively
as each translator can manage to preserve it; the structure, only so far as good English usage allows.
There are one or two further warnings that the stutleuts neecl in this weekly exercise. Some men, through
either misunderstanding or laziness, choose passages too
simple, too elementary, to give any vaJuaule practice.
There is no sense, plainly, in translating such bits from
French Readers or "Kinder- und Hausmarchen" as:
"There was once a man and his wife. They lived· at
the edge of the wood. They had two sons " - and so
on. There is of course no style, no structure, to be
learned or imitated here, - nothing more than the simple, jerky sentences which far too many students write
habitually of their own accord. The same is true, to
some extent, of many plays which, however good they
may be dramatically, contain few passages of dialogue
that can be imitated as really valua.ble prose. Poetry,
too, except in the rarest instances, does not seem to help
the translators :/·ilthough they ha,ve to use a few new
words, they all too often turn out a pa.ge either of very
bad verse or of prose that is indifferent, if not strained
and unnatural. Short prose selections from the best

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F R ES IJMA N ENO IJS !I

Another prescribed form for the daily them es is a
sum11Htl'Y of eac h fort11i gl1ll y ll1 c111c.
Each of these
summaries is, like a11 y "daily," oue page long . It
should give definitely the subject of the lon g theme
of which it is the forernnn er, and ex plain wlrnt the ge neral substance a11d trcatrne11t will lie. Tl1 esc sy nopses
are useful in three ways: tli ey e11aLle the i11stru cto rs to
rejec t unsuitable imbj ects or suggest better methods,
th ey force the writers to plan fortnightly themes at least
one we ek ahead, aud they g ive practice - which is much
nee dell - in co ndensin g . It is harllly worth while here
to g ive an example of th ese summ:.u ies. Th ey are technically successful if defi uite, flu ent, and compact. Jl'.foltum in parvo is of course their id eal. And though they
are fe wer and farther Letween tlrn.n an y of th e other
short themes, :i llozen of these prefaces, care full y clone,
will in so me meas ure show a writer how to be s uccin ct.
Th e following list of subjects, reprinted from the slips
distributed among the class last year, speaks for itself:
ENGLIS H

Friday, J a 11 uary 12.

A fo rm a l invitation to attend an even in g

Sat urday, .Janua ry 13.
l\londay, .January Hi.
Tuesday, .lan11a.ry lG.
" ' ed nesday, ,Jan nary 17.
Thursda.y, .Janua ry 18.
Frid ay, January 19.
Saturday, .January 20.

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party.
Tran s lation.
A n acceptance of th e in vitation of .January 12.
A11 i11 fo rlllal i11vita.tio11 to dinn er.
An acceptance of the invitation of ,Jarwa ry Hi.
A lette r of introduction.
Transl ation.

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TIIE LATER DAILY TIIEMES- PRESCRIBED FORJ,JS

Monday, January 22.

Tuesday, J a nuary 23.

23

An application fol' a position addressed
to a person with whom you are not
acquainted.
A lette l' of congL"atulation.

The writing of th ese special forms is a drill more
go11erally n ccde<l than pcrlmps any other. For one
thing, it illustrates practically and personally the question of Good U se, the necessity of obey ing convention.
vVith full and careful explanations by the instructors in
class - or better still in personal conference -most men
can manage to r emember for future use the shape which·
these exercises are fomll y whipped into. And that, with
all too g reat a proportion of the class, is lamentauly necessary . "Shall be un able to ael'.ept" fol' "is unaLle,"
has to be conected often; sometimes the pleas ure of
the iustrnctor's company is "requested at a formal
party"; misplaced dates, addresses, and the like, are
very common; and worse yet, many students have to
learn that, when ~t communication beg ins with "Mr.
Smith" and " 1\1r. Brown," "you" and "I" cannot
appear later.
Such mistakes as these, and a good
many unclassified errors in taste, call for a plain,
emplmtic correction that shall drive home the nature
and necessity of good form.
In the little sch edule just given, two facts are noteworthy. First, the Saturday translations, which we
have already discussed, are not allowed t o stop. And
second, the acceptance of one invitation is clue on either
vVednesday or Thursday. This latter · fact, which

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TllE LATER DAILY TIIE;lfES-PRESCRIBED FORMS

FRESHMAN ENGLISH

would seem to show that oue theme

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the

week

was l eft free from presc ription, m emrn rather tltat o n
\Ve dnesllay one half of tlte class, on Tlmrsday tl1e
other half, m ee t the D ea n of Harvanl Coll ege, or Mr.
Hurlbut, the iustruetor i11 c harge o[ Lit e coun,e, an(l
write the regular "thinl-lwur" tltemes. 1 Any r ev ie w
of the r equirell work would l>e incomplete if it did
uot include these w eekly imges written iu the general
m eetiugs. Not that they are more important, r eg:mle<l
as comvositious, tlmn many u[ the furegoi11g forms of
daily work; imlee(l, they umy not be a,s important as
some others. They ran ge from hurri ed, inaccurate,
and incoh Greut r ep orts, throug h Lrief comments tluit
say little, to thoughtful and often original d evelopm ents of som e su ggeste(l itlea. \V e m ay say, however,
that they are m o re r e fl ect iv e t han the u s ual run of daily
the m es . H e r e are two e xamples, taken nt random:
"In listening t o the essay which has just been read,2 I
was inwa rdly fl attered by the fact that some of the recommen(l ations which Stevenson gives I hacl already executed;
viz. that wh en reallin g a Look, u11e sltoukl jut down in a note
Look a11y passage ·w hich strikes one• as lJeing parti cubrly
good. This I have (lon e to some extent, es1Jecially in readin g Yictor Hugo's works. l ha ve also tri ed to retain in my
mintl any line or vers e of poetry 1.vhich I think is particularly good, and I remem her in reacling Browuing a few of
such liu es. In oue of his poems about lov e he writes, 'I am
See page 3.
H. L. Stevenson: "l\l emori es a11d l'urtrnits"; "A Coll ege l\lagazine," Sect. 1.
1

25

your own, I am your You' ; and in another he writes, 'She
loved everything she look ed at and she looked everywhere:'
I have tried to imitate or copy Victor Hugo. To my mind
l-I\1go is the most forcible of modern writers. In the 'Toilers of th e Sea' th e ending is th e most forcible arnl dramatic
011e l ltave eve r read. In tha t work in the ending he describes the l1 e.1'0 as sitting on a rock with the tide rising
about him, watching a Yessel which L e~u s his love away
from hi111; as the sail disappears so the head is covered by
the wate1·. 'Nothing remains but the sea.' "
"vVhen the launch is just coming out from Sandusky Bay
p~is t Marblehead, the great la mp fills the ·boat with light;
making the brass engine a11d wheel shine as in daylight. It
seems as though there were no other radiance on the shore;
but when, as I bring her round the end of the clock at home,
I look back aci:·oss the clark water, I can hardly distinguish
l\Iarbleheacl Light from t h e ·others. There is Lakeside,
Cedar Point, The Harbours, Sandusky Light in the bay, and
a multitude of others.
"And so it seems to me that a man, al·ways hovering
11 ea1: one subj ect, m ay becom.e unaware of the importance of .
others. Ruskin, in a passage 1 which the Dean just read,
speaks of the superiority of books as companions over persons. He urges us to read more, to enjoy the talk of good
men and great, to make ourselves the partakers of all the
ri chness of ages past. He says that, in books, we hear not
the thoughtless, casual talk of men of genius, bnt their hest,
prepared and elaborated for our benefit. Not a word of the
depth of human companionship which cannot be in the case
of a written thing. Surely Mr. Ruskin is very near the
light of literature.

2

1

Ruskin ; "S(:)s<tme antl Lilie::i " ; " Of Kings' Treasuries."

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"vVell, so be it, there is another man in the glare of a
white flam e, who hardly sees the light of H.uskin's lamp.
Mr. Carnegie says that 'the great fault of the Amerieau
people is over-reading.' "
Each of these shows, m its own way, the metlitative
and reminiscent character of the "\V ednesday and Th 11 rsday themes. Each shows too, we hope, that when a.
Freslrnrnn sits down to 111eclitate he can ani ve at having
- not much, perhaps, but something to say for himself.
The two themes contain r efe renc es, rnoreover, to the
authors from whom sekdio11s ltatl just l.>een reacl. Besides these authors the list through the year includes
such writers as will ·illustrate different things : Carcli11a,l
Newman, i11 ma11y exLrads llrnL deal wiLh educaLiuu;
Professor G. II. Palm er's "Self-Cultivation in Engli::;l1,"
especially wh ere he speaks of using new wonls in everyday conversation; the fight with Apollyon from "Pilgrim's Progress," the Peter episode in "Cranford," and
many another bit to sl1ow 11ow tliis or that effect is
obtained, in ge11eml choice of words, in descriptive
work, in narrative; for exa111ples of argument, Burke's
speeches: - a11d so the list migll't be prolonged. But
enough has been said to show how eclectic it is, and how
the Freshmeu, forced to give fairly close attention to
authors of whom they are perhaps ignorant, may wish to
widen their range of reading.
And yet, after all, it is not the book read or the
theme written on "\Vednesdays and Thmsdays that
gives these meetings their rea.l importa.nce. It benefitEI

TIIE LATER DAILY 'l'llEMES -

I' RESCRllJED FORMS

27

the Freshman to make their first acquaintance with
certain good books, and to think and write upon the
excerpts; bnt a greater benefit lies in the fact that the
informal talks are not confined to matters of composition. At the ~eginning of the year many Freshmen l>oys just released from restraint and set to acting for
themselves - find their ideas of conduct more or less
confused. In affairs both large and small they need /
sensible advice. And this is what the "third-hour"
talks try to furnish them. It would be hard, indeed,
to give Freshmen better counsel than that in which
Dean Briggs helps them to form their ethical perspective. As his talks are not committed· to writing, and not
r eported, it is impossible to reproduce one here; but the
following bit (from a report" on the condition of Harvard .
College during the academic year 1895~96," made by the
Dean to the President of the Uuiversity) will show the
tone and temper of these familiar discourses:
"The cnrse of college morals is a double standan.1 a shifting, for the convenience of the moment, from the
character of a responsible man to the character of an irresponsible boy. The administrative officers accept without
question a student's word; tl1ey assume that he is a gentleman and that a gentleman does not lie; if, as happeus now
and then, he is not a gentleman and does lie, they had
rather, nevertheless, be fooled sometimes than be suspicious
always (and be fooled quite as often). Frankly treated,
the student is usually frank himself; our undergraduates
are, in general, excellent fellows to deal with: yet so much
is done for them, so many opportunities are lavished ~n

28

FRESIIJ!Al{ RNUUSIJ

them, that the more thonghtless fail to see the relation of
their rights to other people\;, and, in the self-importance of
early man hoou, forget that the workl is not for them alone. Students of this kind need delicate handling. They jealously demand to be treated as men, take advantage of th e
instructors who treat them so, :u1d excuse themse lv es 011
the ground tha,t, after a,ll, they are only l>oys. This do11l1le
stanuard is seen in both theiue-copyiug and sign-ste:di11g.
Its moral effect is probably more insidious in the former
than in the latter; for whereas persons more or less rn ell(lacious pass muster in all society but the best, no decent community outsicle of college will put up with a thief. 111
college, both offenses h:we beeu tolcrat0!l, through the
pemicious doctrine, held by some respectable persons, that
the life of every young man - or at leas t of every young
gentleman - ta,kes in a. period of , engaging anarch.y, dlll'ing which period almost aHything short of rnlll'uer may
be winkeu at as boy's fuu. Fun, aJHl not crime, is doubtl ess
the motive; -aml the fault is no more in the youllg men
than in those staid citizens who boast of their owl\ early
escapades and are content that their sons should liehave no
better than they did.
Yet, wherever the blame lies, the
real natnre of these a.cts is so plain to a11y one, however
youug, who suffers himself to opeu his eyes, that the
usual slow processes of education may perhaps lie effec•
tively discarded. Sign-stealing, for exarnple, received a
sudden check when the Corporation removed stolen signs
from the dormitories, arnl when Judge Almy, himself a
Harvard man, spread wiclely the annouucemeut that the
student next convicted of stea.li11g a sign should go to jail.
The rapidly educational effect of this announcement suggests a royal road to the suppression of cheating. ·what
we want is a penalty that educates, and educates not the
offender only but the easy-going college public, which in
this matter has been persistently lilincl."

CHAPTER IV
DAILY THEMES -

MISCELLANEOUS

TH us far we hn.ve considered the forms of daily writing prescrib~d regubirly for the whole class. \iVe shall
do well now to look at some of the forms which, required at the pleasure of one and another instructor,
are put into practice by perhaps only a section here
and there. The imitations of masters of English prose,
reviewed on page 20, as if they were demanded of all
the rne11, are so closely akin in nature to translations
tliat it seemed best to take them up out of turn. With
this . single exception, however, we have examined only
the exercises recognized as part of the year's work for
every student. It is impossible to discuss in the present chapter all, or even the best, of the special drills by
which different in~trnctors try to gain this or that end.
'Ve can give here only some of the kinds of daily
themes which some instructors ask for.
It is safe to say, however, that nearly every one of
these various kinds is chosen with reference to the particular province of composition in which the writers are
engaged at a given time. Descriptive daily themes,
that is, may be exacted when the men are studying the
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FRESIJMAN ENGLISII

DAILY THEMES -

MISCELLANEOUS

31

.?>

priucivles of description in the "Hhetoric," aud practicing them in fortnightly themes; narrative themes,
when the rest of the work is in narration ; and the
same conformity holds with exposition aud argument.
Early in the course, for example, when the lialf-year's
stmly of exposition lnMl Lcgn11, the following device
was tried.
An instructor read aloud an account of
the process of separating gol<l from quartz; the students of his section were required to take notes on the
reading, to rearrange these notes, and then to set forth
for themselves, in as connected and finislied a ma,1111cr
as possible, the facts . so hastily jotte<l clown. The
attempt was, of course, to give prnctice in grasping
details according to their proper relatiou, and in transforming crude masses of fact once more into welladjuste<l exposition.
. Most beginners fin<l it, however, easier to recount
physical facts than it is to disentangle their own ideas.
A simple exercise will often help them in the latter
difficulty. "Vlien a new lot of fortnightly themes has
been liande<l in, the instructor sometimes gives each
pupil the theme of some one else, bidding him write a
one-page criticism of it and return both manuscripts to
. the desk at the end of the hour. Thi::; practice is profitaLle in more than one way. Not only will it give the
students a chance to straighten out muddled ideas, but
it will rid them of the all too popular belief that to
"criticise" mea.ns to attnuk tooth and 1rnil. However
blindly they may belabor or praise one another's work

at the outset, they will often develop, afte_r a little of
this practice and with some help in the talks of the instructor, the ability to write critical comments that are
discriminating, just, and fairly well turned.
As in expository, so in .descriptive work; by many
inventions the instructors try to keep their pupils busy
in the right direcLion. Sometimes they make each man
write a short description of his nearest neighbor in the
class. Of course the themes thus written are too personal to be used as material in later lectures ; but the
writers can find out in conference what success they have
had with these snap shots at close range. For sketches
that shall have more perspective and more motion, the
class is of ten "assigned " to some particular corner of ·
the college world, -different parts of the gymnasium,
it may be, or the tennis courts on a bright aftemoon, or
the Yard, or the river vYith its crews, or Harvard Square
at some busy season. The need of prescribing scenes
that are so obviously full of motion may be better
understood, perhaps, when one has looked at the follow.
ing example. It is hard to imagine a ball-room more
wonderfully motionless.
" ' Becky Sh mp ' -

The Ball S cen::.-

" The stage proper was devoted to the ball-room, which
was open on the left, and supported by marble pillars. From
this you could see the shrubbery beyond and the many J apanese lanterns that were scattered among the trees. On the
center and back of the stage a magnificent marble staircase
was constructed. After a rise of about eight steps, there

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FRHSIIM . IN 1'.'JY(;/,/S/1

was a spacious lancliug ~ ::wd from this steps led off to the
right and to the left. Ead1 p:ut of the stair1 ~a,i-H~ s11pportml
ebbornte a111l be:111tif1il c:u1dc.labra. Tl1e rigid; wings of the
stage represented a solid marbl e wall. Tl1e wh ole rnaclo a
setting at once attracti \' C, gorgeous, :111<1 gran11.
"The minuet, danced by ri chl y costum ed men ancl wom e11 ,
completetl the picture of an elaborate ball given by 011e of
the 'overlords ' of the French."
Studies in still life are scarcely needecl by a class
of whose work this is not an unfair specimen.
V cry often, however, a man is left to choose lii~ own
suLject for description, with the recomm e nJatiu11 that
it be some person or place whi c h he takes interes t in
recalling. Results of this practice may Le seen in th ese
four sketches.
" ·w e walk ed sil ently: in single file, alon g th e faint trail.
A huge log barred th e ·way 110w and then, the path swerved
off violently, and passed rouml the jagged, earth-stained
roots of the fallen tree; though if th e trunk were not too
large, the trail went over it, and left behind a smooth spot
on the rough ba rk. Th e taii gled woods to right an d left
were overgrown with all kintls of brushwood, es pecially
with small mapl es. They were strnggling hard for life and
light; for th e jealous ta111aracks, selfishly forgetting the
troubles of their O"wn yo uth , towered on all siLles aml shut
out the sky. Natnre had trietl every device t o save the
young trees ; saplings an inch thick ran up fifteen fee t, for
in the depths of this silent Michigan forest no wincl S\;itel1 ed
them about. 'l'hen, too, every dark green leaf was quite
horizontal, stretched out like a child's han<l to feel the rain·

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.M ISCELLANEO US

33

nor tlid any leaf skulk under another, as on a grown-up tree,
but each one lay open to cateh its share of the dusky light."
'' 'The Storekeeper

"He was a portly man, somewhat past middle age, but
hale and hearty as the sailors that used to come sculling in
from the boats to trade at his store of ' general merchandise.' His shiny buff face was surrounded by sandy hair
and a short beai·cl of the ·same shade. In conversation his
eyes would wander until he reached an important point,
when they wonltl sucldenly become fixed upon one's nose to
em ]Jhasize his remal'l<. At the same time he w~uhl clap his
mouth shut anJ compress his broad lips. This latter practice, showing, as it did, his own immense satisfaction with
what he said, had the effect of quenching any attempt at
argument. Among the . porch loafers he would always
reserve his opinion till the last, to deliver it with great
force and elegance ; arnl in variably he put an end to the
discnssion.' 1
"In autumn, when grape-picking begins, no fairer field
for work than the Sweet Valley Vineyard can be imagined.
Surrounded on all sides by the low hills along the lake
shore, it lies safe from the storms ~hat come across the
water. Southward it rolls away, over the gentle hills, until
in the distan ce the grapevines look like grass on a smooth
law n; high rocky cliffs hem it in on the north; and on all
sides the trees on the hills mingle their gold and scarlet to
1leepen its dark rich green. On the vines near at hand
thick clusters of dark blue hang among the lower leaves, a
sweet, persuading odor of Concords fill the air, a few viues
that have broken their ties bencl gracefully above the orderly
rows, with tenclrils seeking a support in vain. From far

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34

FRESIIMAN HNCU!Sll

away comes the sound of a g un, deadeued by th e hazy
atmosphere, and robber bin.ls rise noisil y iu flight."
"Nippersink Creek is a crooked littl e stream, st ru ggling
along through a weedy channel, and bearin g . as it al ways
seemed to me, an atlllitional bnnlen in its clum sy Indian
nam e. Far back in tl1 c quid country, ho weve r, t.ltc crnc k
reveals anoth er 11 :tt un~, :ts <lilforc11t as e:t1 1 be l'ro111 its dow nstream steadiness. U pon tl1 e high mea<lowlall<l s it tl ows
alo11g in a clear, sh allow stream, over yellow sand-Hats
streaked with quivering strin gs of weed. Now aml then
the water g rows mnrky fo r a short space, where a h erd of
cows is standing i(lly on th e rnuddy botto m. Soon it clears
off a_g~in and swings round a sharp be11d with a rns li, only
to d1v1de and fl ow through a dozen pebbly ch ann els slia.dowed by the Hitting for111s of t i111 orous sunfi sh. For~ t irn e,
the ba nks of th e strea111 dra w toget her. Then the wate r
grows d eep and black, alld 0 11 its surface fl oat sleevy mwlturtl es, each with its h eacl u pst ream."

The mes of this sort, bes itles coming as a change fr om
th e suLj ec ts m ore limitecl in scope, often bring with
th em sometl1i11g of th e pleasure of r enrnusce nce, - a
pleasure which tends to 'make the pen march more
willingly.
vVhen tli e classes are pass ing from description to
narration, it may perhaps be necessary to g iv e th em
so me kind of work wl1i eh combines tl1e two forms of
writing. For this purpose the very simpl e wol'k of
letter-writing will prnv c usef ul. Tli e men mi g lit be
required, for exampl e, to write a short lette r from Mr.
A in the city to l\fr. B in the co untl'y, and then,

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DAU, 1' T!IEMF:S- .MIS CELLANEOUS

35

clmnging perso1rnlity and place, to write Mr. B's
reply. This means an attempt to revive a forgotten
art, if you like; but for the present purpose it is a
drill, not so much in epistolary form for its own sake,
as in the process of handling both scenes and events
briefly yet entertainin g ly.
For out-and-out narrnti ve, one might find numberless
dev ices . ;ro write synopses of stories read aloud, for /
instance; this, though eleme ntary, calls for such care- '
ful appraising and adjusting of many facts that it is
extremely hard to do well. The composition of onepage dialogues is also both hard and good training.
Adl'oitness in managing conversation is something that
Freshman \Yriters are not alone in needing. To avoid,
if nothing more, the monotony of reiterating ''he said,"
and "she said," and "said he, going through the window"; to make the talk sound in some measure real;
to gain in point, fl exibility, resource, - this is what
the writing of dialog ue tends to bring about. And the
more ambitious work in narrative, the two fortnightly
themes that take the form of true or fictitious stories,
will be the better for it.
Clumsy dialogue is no more common, however, than
are bungling beginnings. Two or three daily th e mes
devoted to practice in getting stories under way ·w ill
surely be not too many. The men must learn to 1nake
, the outset really the outset, - neither the preface to
· an introduction nor a point somewhere in the middle,
from which one must turn back for an explanation of

- 3G

l"RESJJM .JN ENULISII

previous even ts. F ew better exercises, for rntrrati ve
•
purposes, can be given than those in starting a story.
L et each student try to acliieve one page which suggests a person, a place, and a motive, a.ml h e will Le
r eadier to begin an actual piece of contiuued uanati ve. A successful daily theme of this sort will contain characters, sce 11 c, n,11d ploL, wi thout Lci11g citltcr
too vague or too clowmigltt.
vVlmt has been said about the daily themes in connection with narrativ e, descriptiYe, and expository work,
will h<tnlly apply as well in the case of argument. Of
co urse, an instru ctor can read a part or tl1 e whole of
some argu rn entati ve co mposiLio11, such as Macaulay's
spaech es on the bill to am end the law of copyright,
and ask for a state ment of the nrnin argume nts . But
th ese mini ature briefs are for the most part not very
The stud e 11 ts can get more good from
profitable .
reading arguments at t heir leisure, from gi vi11 g themselves practice in l)l'ie f-<lmwi11 g, a.nd from confere nce
on the brief tha.t serves as the eleveuth fortni g htly
theme. Some few arg ume1ttati ve processes may perhaps be lea m ed in the daily writing; but in the maiu,
one page has not proved a co nve nient space.
After this incomplete re view of certain forms of daily
themes, it mi ght seem .Lliat a student has n ot much ovpo rtunity to write upon his own .subj ect and in his own
vein. This is not, h owever, the case. Besides all
these tasks, prescribed or recomm ended, th ere still
remains a good proportion of themes that any man

DA ILl' TJJEMES- .MI SCELLANEOUS

37

-may write as the humor seizes him. So large is this
proportion, indee d, that stnden ts sometimes ask for
more prescribed s ubj ects, with the complaint that
th eir own stock has given out. After the first few
weeks of daily them es, there comes to most Freshmen a g reat vacuity of mind; the themes grow alarmingly feeble; but with so me patience and a little
spaning for time, they get their second wind, and go
Oil fairly well.
As to daily themes altogether, it should be remembered that th eir value lies in the continuity of practice.
Th ey cannot, coming in so great number, be so minutely
con ected as to t each their writers much about structure.
Indee d, as the year goes on, the instrnctors comment less
and less on form, and more and more on substance. Yet
howeve r few marks of correction each page may bear, in
t heir acc umulation the daily th emes, properly used, will
break their writers of mu ch that is undesirable, and will
develop, if not a firm er teehnique, at least a tendency
toward good habits in writing.

/

Tll.E FORTYJUIJ TLY TllEMES- Ji'JRST JJALF-YEA R

CH A PTER V
THE FO!tTNIGHTLY T H El\rnS- FfltST H AL F-Y l~Alt

A GLANC I~ at th e laLular view on page 4 will
show that th e fort11ighLly themes are not distriLuted
eq ually among the four kimls of co mpositi on. On th e
contrary, half of tli e furtriigliLly work- the first six
long t he111 es - is ex pos ito r_y; of th e rest, two are
descriptiv e, two narra t ive, and two arg um entative . Tlris
preponderance of eX]JOS itory writin g will be eas ily understoocl, howeve r, if one re members what has already bee n
said as t o tir e oLj ect of English A . It is 11ot to turn out
professional sto ry-te ll ers, or re:uly-niadc poets, or i 11 fa ct
any kind of artists with words. I t is to train a number
of yo un g men in th e use of co rrec t a11d reada Lle English. Plai11ly, t hen, exposi t ion should for m a g reate r
part of tir e yea r's work ; for it is expos ition that nin e
men out of ten will have to deal with in later life, perhaps nin e t im es ou t o f te n wh en t hey sit down to writ e
at any length. D escrip t ion arid sto ry-tellin g form part
of the co urse for seve ral reasons: they give the students
the ne w interes t of a chan ge; practice in them will
ofte n en liven a man 's expos itory sty le ; they produ ce, in
men who have tried tlr cm with little sn ccess, a Lett er

'/

39

appreciation of de::;cripti ve ::tnd narmti ve mast erpieces;
and possibly they may di::;cover to so me youth that he
has <tn interest in writing sketches or stories, joined with
th e ability t o do so. To let them share equally with
expos ition, howeve r, in the scheme of the year's work,
would be as unwise as to omit them altogether. Practi ce in the m is nee ded; but it is not so mu ch nee ded as
practice in explanatory :md arg umenta tive writing.
/
So mu ch for the ge neral plan of the fortnightly
th emes ; as for th eir nature, it is of course ne edless to
say that th ey are very Llifferent from the daily themes.
A u iustructo r is suvposed to read the form er much more
slow ly and thoroughly than he reads the latter, and to
em ploy more time in suggesting bette r words or phrases,
cutt ing out passages or fi llin g the m in, r ecastin g clauses,
se ntences, aml paragraphs. Irrntead. of irHli catin g by a
mark in t he marg in tlmt a se ntence is clumsy, he
arranges it in a better form. Not tlrat he ever does a
stud ent's final rev ision for him; far from it; but in any
real d.ifli cul ty, any q ues tion obscure and peqJlexing to
a student, the instrncto r suggests on paper one way of
solving the prrJblern. In addition, h e writes on the
back of each composition a ge neral criticism, from fifty
to se ve~1ty-fi ve words in length. Throughout, th en, his
work on tir e fortnightly th emes is more minute and
mme reconstrn ctive than us ual; and the studenti', for
th eir part, are expe cted to use more than ordinary pains
in rewriting or revising.
One cannot hope to classify here the endless mistakes,

4 ()

FRJ,:Sl/.11.1 N 1•,' N<r' f, / ,'i ll

tli c multifarious corrcelions, 011 which all these · 1Jai 11 s
are expended. l t would be cliHicult even to 11int at
them. The examples gi ven 1 · will show, perhaps, something about the general charncter of tlrn errors, comments, and changes.
A good deal of th e instru ctors' work must go, for
instance, toward making their pupils unders tand that
the beginning and th e end of a senten ce, as the mos t
prominent places, should if possible contain th e mos t
important 'vorcls; and th:tt adjacent paragraphs mu s t be
connected not onl y in U1011g ht b11t itt phrase. Tl1 esc
and all other questions of form must be discussed, explained, reverted. to, time allll again. A few slash es of
th e pen, a mark of transpos ition here and there, a connective in~ e rte d or chan ged, will of ten show a beginn e r
how lo transform loose, sha ml.Jlin g se nteJJces into firm
ones that march with confid ence; and the "fortnig htlies" afford the bes t chan ce for tliis prnctical lesson.
Sentences weak and mo11 oto 11 ous with "but," "and, " or
" so," are very co mm on in F res hman En g lish. They
can eas ily be mad e over into so methin g like vigo r and
flu ency if one only has the patience, in conecting, to
substitute other conn ectives, especially those whi ch
involve the use of periodic form.
Not that periodic
sentences are recommended as being intrinsically better
than loose ones; it would Le a great pity if any s uch
1

See the specim ens of fort.ni g hLl y themes. Th e corrections represent u11favoraL le rather tha11 favo rau le co111111 en t, because th e encou raging criticis ms are ge nerall y g iven in co nferen ce.

Tlll~' FUUTN JGllTJ,Y 'J.'llEMES-FJRST 11A J,Ji'-J"EAR

41

false impression shoul<l be given. The students need
chill in periotlic forms merely because those forms are
11e w or rare with them, aml because their style will be
th e better for a decrease in the amount of looseness. The
same reasons apply to many corrections which, collsidered merely in an cl for themselves, would be nonsensical.
An instru ctor might object, for example, to a sentence
encling with, "th ere being no men to cany out the
plot." vVliy should lie object? It is not that such con·
structions are naturally vicious, or that they are not
fo11n<l, :intl fo1111ll often, in good writing; but that these
novices in structme are already too fond of easy, lax,
"go-as-you-pl ease" sentences, which readily become no
sentences at all. A little compulsory use of periodic
order, so far from exposing the novices to the danger of
artificiality, t ends to give more poise to whatever they
may write.
One should remember, then, that the correction of f~rt­
nig htly them es needs to be made with fairly minute
attention to form, and, dealing as little as possible with
counsels of perfection, to be largely a matter of actual
reco nstru ction. It is well to mention, moreover, - what
might easily be guessed, - the necessity of keepi11g the
req uired reading in th e "Rhetoric" parallel with the
fortnightly work. In th e first half-year, when exposition
holcls the field, the students should read what Professor
Hill says, 1iot only about exposition, but about the choice
of wore.ls, number of words, arrangement, and whatever
other principles they need to have explained. The

/

42

FRES!JMAN ENGLISH

THE FORTNIGllTLY TJJEMES-F'IRST IIALF-YEA R

chapter on description accompanies the writing of
Th emes VII. and VIII.; that on nanation, Themes IX.
aml X.; and that on argument, Th emes XI. and XIL
\Vith all this in mind, we may turn to examin e the
first fortnightly theme. Its title, "\Vho I Am, and
vVhy I Came to Harvard," may at first see m odd. Yet
th ere is more than one i·caso a wl1y the iirst theme shoultl
be written on this suuject. In so large a class, an instructor cannot hav e too man y opportunities for lea.ruing
something about the personality, early training, and (so
far as may be) th e a.ims of eac h of his pupils; a1ul if
useful for nothing more, these first personal themes may,
and often do, co11tain l1i11ts as to the special needs of
this or that man. They are by uo means mere tables of
facts, however, to be filed for referen ce . U rn.lergoi11g
immedia,te and in man v cases sharp correction, they are
a Fres hman 's first experience, .for U1at year at least, in
writing connected passages at greater length and for
more detailed criticism. Several thin gs in the natme
of the subject combine to aid him. In the first pl~tce,
the idea of writing an autobiographical sketch often seems novel enoug h to interest and amuse him; in the
second, the construction is made less difflcult by the
fact that his account has for the most part only to !:ollow
the nat ural sequence of eve n ts, - that the nanati ve
instinct will help him; aJl(l in the third, such unmixed
exposition as is necessary is fairly simple. vVith all
this in his favor, each young autobiographer writes an
article from three to six pages long and slips it iuto the

43

theme box. · when corrected, this article is retume<l. to
the author, who must revise or rewrite it within two
weeks. '..L'hus the i'outine of the fortnightly themes is
begun, sii11ply enough.
The second long theme is quite as simple. It is an explanation of" how to do or to make something.'' Here,
obviously, is nothing but exposition reduced to lowest
t erms, the explanation of a general process. Aud yet /
befo re one can be sure that the men will understand
this elementary work, one must carefully make clear the
natme of exposition, aud the points wherein it differs
from description or narrative. An i11structor does this,
it may be, by showing what an expm;{tion of the game
of footba.11 is like, and what the story of a football
game; or by contrasting an explanation of the process,
of manufacturing shoes with a description of the interior
of a shoe factory.
Any number of such illustrations
will be available to give the stud~nts a clearer idea,
which they decidedly need, of the expository mood. In
dealing with any ordinary class, there nee d be no anxiety
about discuss ing the idea too thoroughly. For the rest,
one must rely on the nature of the subject to carry a
writer through.
If he can only keep his head, and
follow closely with mere good sense whatever process he
may have chosen, the very fact that it is a process will
The order of ideas, that is, will
provide the outline.
prove to be already determined, if only in a fashion
more or less rough. But as each man must nevertheless
work out for himself the details of structure, there will

I

I

•

44

TIIE FORTNIGIITLY THEMES- FIRST HALF- YEAR

FRESTTilfAN ENGLISII

be quite enough to k eep him aud his instrnctor busy.
It is mostly <lull work , with little 01· no chance for an
average writer t o show liis own native g ifts; many of
the themes will be crmle and laLoreLl accounts of li ow
to mn.ke a wash-bottle, to fiml the specific gravity of
something, to play tenn is, or to manufacture gunpowder.
Some, 111ore bu coli c, tell how to Lrnin a colt or keep Lees,
-011 wl1i eh subjects two Freshmen wrote ca pital litt le
articles. But the lev el of th e th emes remains a dead
level. Duln ess, howeve r, is not so mu ch to Le guankt}
against here as obscnriLy. A11d if a writer m:wages Lo
mak e his particuLtr pro cess plain, a11d to k ee p hi s se nt ences an<l parag raphs fairly in hand, he has tlone
tolerably well. If he has bee n entertaining, or perhaps
original, so mu ch th e bette r for him; but most of Lh ese
beginn ers will have enough <liflicul ty in try in g t o be
acc mate a11cl intelli g ible.
\Vith the third 1011 g theme, wl1i ch rnu st set fo rth
"som ething learn ed in a coll ege course," a n ew element
begins to appear in tl:e work. H ere, it will be noted,
th e men may still be cl ealin g with cut and thi eLl matters
of fact, but they are not doin g so of necess ity. A student may selec t some mathematical or chemic;il process,
and so have th e ge neral outlin e on ce more furni sh ed
him; but on the other haml he may, as ma11 y sL ml e11 ts
do, choose to write on "English and A merican Leg islation," "Livy as au Hi storian," or" The Rise of the
Chmch in the Middle Ages." These are plainly s ubjects
that require thought, prev ision of the wh ole matter as a
'\

45

unit, ancl some little exercise of ingenuity in arrangement. · In other words, that a writer shall know what
he is going to say in toto, in what spirit he is to say it,
and what is to be the coordination of the parts, - this
knowledge the third theme calls for more urgently than
does either the first theme or the second. It is at this
stage of the comse that an instructor should give as
mu ch help as possible in matters of general plan. He /
should show how an explanatory composition will succeed best, as a rule, wh en it progresses from simple
id eas to complex ; how this or that selection, read
aloud, contrives to give to a plain explanation variety
and interest; how picturesque bits here and there,
fi g urative illustrations, flashes of personality, enli ve11 a
discussion without making it digress.
The chance to enliven their ·work thus, if they can,
is soon given to the men without restriction. For the
fourth long theme, they are asked to express their
opinion on some questio11 that has lately interested
them. There is to be no attempt at argument, except
in so far as a clear expression of opinion, with the
reasons for it well stated, may happen, by convincing a
reader, to achieve the purpos e of argument. Each man
has merely to discuss, in good faith and with good
se nse, an interes ting matter as it appears to him.
Last year many students chose the wars in the Transvaal and the Philippines, the growth of trusts, and
other familiar topics. Nearly all of these opinions were,
of course, immature; many were not so much real

46

FRES /lil!A N ENG U S !I

opinions as th ey were the resid ne of none too thorough
r eading; yet the · average was neare r to successful
exposition than the av erage of the earli er themes, and. ·
a few men expressed th emsel ves not witl1out imlivicluality. On the other hand, seve ral writers went woefully
astray as to general structure, aml produ ced mere se ts
of disco nn ected ancl i11 co11 clusive asse l'li o11 s . The removal of all leaclin g -strin gs, the lack of chronological
or otherwise arLitrnry seq uence, the necessity fo r Lringing orderly th ou ght out of a normally muLlclled. mind,
left many a n ovi ce at fault. It is no womler, th en,
that so me students who have thus far written co herently "go to pieces" at this point, and take to jotting
th eir ideas down at hapliazanl. .But their case is not
desperate. Thoro ugh rew ri tin g and a co nfe rence with
th e instrncto r will usuall y help t11em to recove r t h eir
balance, provided, of cou rse, that t hey ma,ke en ough
effo rt of their own. At most, tl1 ey are very few; tho
larger part of the class will have had enough practice, in three lon g themes a1ul many shor t, to make them
steadier ancl surer writers.
So true is this of the class as a wh ole, tlrnt fo r the
fifth "fortnig htly" no subjec t is prescribeLl. It must
be expos itory, t o be sure; Lut the only other corn.litio n
attached is a r ecom mendation - not a req uirement that it Le an essay co nn ec teLl with tl1 c prcsc riued reading. Th e students are :tll visecl for their own good to
try a kind of work which is not only more aspiring
than usual, but also a stev toward the habit of criticis-

-

TIIE FORTN.TGIITLY THEMES- FIRST HALF-YEAR

47

in g, ot appraising what they read. The suggestion
mee ts with considerable respo nse. One finds, among
the fifth th emes, essays on the character of Arthur P enclennis or of Falstaff, on l\ilr. Kipling's "Jungle Book,"
on \vhatever phase of the reqt;ired read ing has seized
a yo1111g 11m11\; interest. J f any man prefer to clioose
liis ow n subj ect, h e 111ay clo so, and welcome; for the
chances are that, in case his preference is at all a. /
dec ided one, tlie resu It wi 11 be a more vigorous piece
of writi11g than his earli er labors. Altoge ther, then,
the fifth th eme is an experiment in giving the class free
scope.
The sixth and last expos ition, which closes the first
lialf-year's work, brings the class back within presc ribed
limits. Th e beg innin g was an autobiog raphy, the end
is a biography. Each student is req uested to write a
sh ort ess<ty on some well-known man - a hero worshipped in boyhood, perh aps, or merely some figure
conspicuous at any time in the world. An account
only of the life and deeds of a noted man is not, however, what is wanted. That co uld be compassed by an
easy transcription of the encyclopedia. · To interweave
fa cts with an estimate of the man's character, to do this
sk illfully, in a just propo1:tio11, should be the aim of the
cornposition. If s uccessful, the result will be a kind
of biographical portrait; it will contain no more historical facts than are significant; it will present the man
and his surroundings pictorially, so far as that is possibl e without interrupting the expository purpose; and

48

FHESIJMA N

l~'ll' U LIS/l

it will give an individual opiHion as to l1is place and
rn eanmg 111 the history of the world. Several of last
year's themes were thus successful, and were sensible,
interesting short articles. A strange company was
asse mbled, to be sure; in it were Socrates, Mohammed,
Copemicus, l\lacliiavell i, · Napoleon, lfobe rt Uurns, Decatur, Hemy Chy, Li11 col11, Mr. l\fol\inley, :Mr. Cec il
Rhodes, Admiral D ewey, alld many others. In several
of these diverse cases the writers' interest in th e persons of tl1 eir choice seemed genuine; and wheth er frolll
real interes t or not, th e th emes, on th e whol e, were
better in exec ution than us ual, and pleasanter to reall.
The chief fault in th emes of this sort is apt to Le a
bad adjustment of proportion bet ween e vents and critical estimate, aml a failure to g ive a vivid glimpse of
the h ero as a human fi g ure. For the rest, however,
the sixth themes hav e co mmonly shown a creditable
improvement in techniqu e, and au ability, gain ed
through considerable practice, to work out more co mplicated problems in th e prese ntation of fact and
illeas.
The progress of the six th emes in exposition is, in
short, from easy processes to more aml more diffi cult.
Along with constant exe rcise and illustration in the
mapping out of whole cornpos itio11s, there is qui te as
constant criticism and correction in the de tail s of style.
At this stage the pupil:;; have got themselves sufficiently
under control to be ready for more elaborate at tern pts.
They have had, for the prese nt, enough exposition;

THE FORTNIGHTLY TIJEMES -

FIRST HALF-YEAR

49

more than enough, th ey themselves feel.
So after
the 'midyear examina,tion, they take up description
and narration. At the end of the second half-year
th ey revert, not indeed to exposition proper, but to the
closely alli ed form, argumeut.

I

;
I '

THE FORTNIGIITLY TIIEMES-SECOND HALF-YEAR

CHAPTER VI
THE FOI{TNIGHTLY THEMES-SECOND HALF-YEAit

lN turni11g to the dese l'iptive and 11a1Tative themes,
let us once more take warni11g as to their purpw;e.
That purpose is not to 111a11111'act11re yo ung litera ry 111c1t
or professional writers of a11y sort. It is Lo g iv e the
students respite from a lo11g co urse of what has become
drndge ry, to stir up if possible a new interest in the
work, to make them ol.>Serve more keenly an<l record
more vividly, and to g ive t hem a Letter appreciation through their own dini cu lty aml failure - of n otable
achievements in literature. One should rn111e1nl>e r, also,
the nature of the daily exe rcises g i ve11 in co nnection
with these kinds of co mp os ili o11.1
The fortnightly work in description consists of
Themes VII. an<l VlII. The subjects of the8e the
writers are free to choose, on con dition that the summari es, ha nded in as tlai ly t l1 emes one wee k iu a(l van ce
of the co rrcspo ntlii1g" fnr t11i g hLli cs," satisfy the in st ructors. The important differe 11 ee between tl1e two themes
is that Th eme VIL, the first ex periment in desc ripti on,
is apt to be much the more elementary in form. As in
1

See pp, 31-30.
50

51

the substance to Le treated they are virtually alike,
they need not be considered here separately'.
For preparation, their writers have the daily descriptive exercises, pages 254 to 280 in the "Rhetoric," and
the lectures in class. , These informal lectures, to be
· thorough yet simple, m~~st depend largely on practical
illustrations, which can be got in few better ways than
hy reading passages aloud, with explanation of their /
m erits and defects. An instructor might read, for example, Mr. Kipling 's "The City of Drea<lful Night" ;
:rn101w
other thi110'R,
lie woul<l. point out how much
h
b
motion th ere is iu ce rtain words. He woul<l show how
iustantly effective these words are, and how the substitution of less kinetic phrases would make a given
passage fall fl at.
An<l so he would take up one
selection after another, letting the students see for
themselves how the different effects are brought about,
or explaining where they are at a loss to see. A
caution, too, against sketches of the guide-book sort
will not come amiss· before the seventh themes are
written.
vVhen that writing has taken place, there will be a
labor of r eform ation for the instructors. A good, sound
expository style often proves a poor descriptive one.
l\Ien who in the first lialf-year have written with intel~
ligence and spirit, begin the second half in a fashion
surprisingly stupid. They have been interested in a
person or a place, and yet somehow cannot call it up in
words with any distinctness.
Sometimes, of course,

52

FRESllMAN ENGLISIJ

the trouble is temperamental; the men have such good
practical heads that tl1ey can deal with only matters of
the plainest fact; more often, however, it is merely
a failure to understand as yet the <lescripti ve mood,
and a lack of specific or uuliackneyed wor<ls. vVhe11
students are 011ce brought to see the futility of such
phrases as "could be scc11," "prese11Led a Leautil'ul
picture," "was a most delightful spot," "a worthy
subject for the artist," aml all that host 'vithout life,
color, or n1ea11ing; when they see, for example, tl1at
they lmve used a part of the verb "Lo go" where tliey
might have rnea11t" Lu walk,"" run,"" stride,"" slrnl'fle,''
"crawl," "grope," "strut," "amble," " trot," "mince,"
"whirl," "scuttle," or any of the manifold ways of
going; when they have learne<1 a hundred things -- of
which one cannot give more than the faintest hint
here - about the value of finding a word close to their
intention, close to the appearance or motion they wish
to conjure up: - when they have once seen the nature
and meaning of all these rndiments, tliey liave made an
advance toward understanding the descriptive spirit.
They must, of course, learn a great deal more of Loth
detail and geueral theory: In their first searcl1, more
or less enthusiastic, after words graphic and (to thern)
novel, they are likely to Le seizell with an epidemic of
adjectives. "There is nothing like hay for faintness,"
said Lewis Carroll's Hatter; and for vividness, thinks
the Freshman, there is nothing like your adjective.
For a few weeks, at any rnLe, this part of speech is

TllE FORTNIGIITLY TllEMES- SECOND HALF-YEAR

53

usually overworked. A favorite device with many men
( anil a common sign, by the way, of the novice), is to
drive ac1jectives continually in pairs. "The gaunt, gray
rocks,"" the blue, dancing waters," "the dark, sinister
scowl," are forms which, though good enough singly,
become tiresome when use<l throughout a whole sketch.
Here, for instance, are two {Jages from a descriptive
fort11ightly theme, rather freer from this fault than ./
usual.
" On tlte 011tonagon

i

I
.\,
jl

"It was a slow, lazy <fay, toward the end of August, As
I lay at length 011 a tlat, lichen-covered rock, and absorbed
its pleasant warmth, I reflected that far away in Illinois the
prairies were quivering with the heat, and that the trees
along the country roads were brown and stifled with dust.
"The scene before me was quite different from the one
which I pictured to myself. It lay in Michigan, not in
Illinois; a silent forest, blackened here and there by fire,
fell away before me, and then strode part way up the steep
side of Iron Mountain, a league distant; and, instead of
the dusty country road, I saw a clear trout stream, hunying down a long series of granite tenaces. Native guides
called it the 'Cascades of the Ontonagon.'
"On one of these flat granite bowldel's I was lying. In
the spring, the ambitious little river had. swelled out· to a
width of perhaps a hundred feet; but with each day of
summer it had grown more retiring, till now any fisherman
might pick his way across it, dry-shod. The water slid
along quietly, for the most part. Now and. then, however,
it squeezed between two rocks with a hollow, metallic gurgle,
or chattered noisily over a bed of shifting stones. Just below me, as I have said, the cascatles descended in irregular

54

F'RES!IMA N ENG U S II

steps for a thou sand feet. There the strea m became a succession of waterfalls and !>l ac k, foam-streaked pools. And
bene:tth every slowly circlin g etldy of fr oth, non e co uld tell
h ow m a ny trout mi ght be lurki11 g.
"The plaintive, insiste nt c<tll of a flute-bi rel drew my attention from the river. Th e so und came from a belt of d ead
pines near by, stamling up tltin and gray with out their fo liage. I eo uhl sec tlte stiff, a11 g11 hr bra111:l11•s agai 11 st tl1 c sky;
but near the gro und, a bushy second growth of map les, popla rs, and yellow birch h ad begun to show, partly hidiu g the
ravages of the last forest fire."

In this case the pairing of adjectives is n ot so co nspicuous as it mi ght be; but u11less tlte writer had been
warned, he might have let this dan gerous trick creep
into his style.
Students should be taught to look <tlso for spec ific
verbs, 'vhich will rend er unn ecessary an atlj ecti ve h ere
.o r an aclverb there. If they persevere in their search,
th e writers will come nearer to a terse style. They will
noti ce, perhaps, that th e force of many of their most effective ve rbs is the for ce of compressed metaphor. This
may lead. them furth er to look for fi g ures that fl ash pictures before th e mind of a reader ; in whi ch course
they cannot proceed witl1out overcoming their aversion
- native in A nglo-Sax ons - to examinin g their impres sions sharpl y . In rare cases, men are eve n promp tet1
to follow the ad vice of Gray, that "half a word fixec1
upon or n ear the spot is worth a cartload of r ecollecti on. " Aml although tltc total gain in d esc ripLive
ability may not be striking, the class will show, when

'J'llE FORTNIGJlTLY THEMES-SECOND HALF-YEAR

55

tlie eighth them e is compared with the seventh, a general
advance from bald arnl literal enumeration toward description that has color, motion, a semblance of reality,
am1 perhaps a tinge of the imaginative.
ln this allvan ce, however, there is evident danger of
O'O illff
To take a single instance : a man feels
h
n astray.
..
tltat he lia.s L ~e n " cu rsed out" for· writing too prosaic
an account. "vVhy, then," he thinks, "here goes for /
something reall y <lashing . I'll Le dull no longer. I'll
be suggestive, and all that." This is a good resolution ;
but in l1is strnggle to be vi viJ. he runs the greatest risk
of artificiality. A straining aftei.· figures will betray the
best writer into conceits; with beginners, its results
are often droll. "The tall chimneys," \vrote one man,
in describing a fire, " t he tall chimneys fell with a look
of clespair." Another described the Mystic River as a
" g igantic mon ste r, winding down on its way to swallow
up the city of Charlestown." And there are many other
instances, just as grotesque, of misguided effort. A 11
that an instru cto r can do is to issue vv-arnings. H e can
keep r eminding his pupils that the endeavor to find
striking phrases is laudable, but only when tempered
with common sense ; and. that, after all, good con venti onal clulness is better than absurd originality.
Between the two ev ils, absurdity and duln ess, the
writers of the seventh alJCl eighth themes must learn to
steer a middle course. If they can, they have done
mu ch toward proving thernsel ves able to write in a new
vein, without discreclit. If, as happens, they turn out

5G

FRESllM.1.N ENGLISII

a few capital sketches of people aml places, they have
accomplished sornetliing positiv e i11 the special fi eld of
description. B es t of all, 111ost of tl1 eir late r writing
shows that they u1uJ ~ rstaml more clearly tli e value of
pictorial words, and that out of this self-conscious strugth e)'
liave brn110·]1t
a greater l><Jw er
g le with la1wua(J'e
b
b
.
b
to ex press th e mselv es with point.
I 11 the next two th ern es, IX. aml X ., the purpose is
likewise to d evelop the students' rnnge and versatility.
Th ey mus t now handle, not only the various aspects of
men anll things, but eve n ti:;, actions, rnoti ves.
Th ey
must tell two short stori es, true or fi ctitious.
Some of
the e xercises preparatory to this work awl parallel with
it, may be r ecall ed uy a glance at })ages 35, 3G. Bes ides
th ese, aml j nst- as in th e case of the long desc riptiv e
themes, much of the in st ructors' work co nsists in reauing ~doud gootl ex tracts - sliort stories, passages from
histories or novels - and examining th em critically ue ::fore the class. Fur bits of straightforward narrativ e,
the resc ue of Friday from tl1e cannil.ml8 in "Roliiu son
Crusoe," a11cl Cliristian's fight with Apollyon in "The
Pilgrim's Progress," serve atlmirnbly. Th ey holcl the
attention of the stucle11ts with a closene8s which mak es
one suspect, alas, that tli e stories are new to tlie
audience, arnl whi ch carri es i Ls own lesson of vigor in
simplicity. B eautiful simplicity tli e men may see in
the Uook of ltuth, a E\tory wl1ich expe riments liave
shown, unlrnppily, to be quite as little known liy Fre8hmen nowaclays.
A score of other qualities, good or

TllE FORTNJGIJTLY THEJllES- SECOND IIALF-YEAR

57 •

bad, are illustrated from as many different kin~s of
stories.' Skillful beg innings, ingenuity of plot, dramatic presentation of characters and use of motive,
brisk yet natural dialogue, the right proportion of
effective details, successful movement, consistent point
of view, - all these ai1d th eir opposites ar.e studied by
actual exarnple. 2
01.iviously, it is not expected that the students, when ,/
they write th eir own stories, will deal in matters so
intricate, or produce works of a high order. It is
e11ougl1 for them to make a true story interesting, aud
a fictitious story both interesting and artistically true.
The study of all these models and all this theory is
profitable in two wa,ys: it gives each man a few simple
tests which he can hencefo rth a,pply, for his private
satisfaction, to whatever narrative he may read; and it
shows him, in his own present work, how and where
to begiu, how to marrnge the few men and women
who serve him as characters, how to keep the interest
from decreasing as the story progresses, and how and
where to make an end. V e ry few if any of the stories
last year reached even the standard of un<lergra<luate
fiction. There was a good <leal of sentimentality and

I

l

I

I

i J\ few of th e many books which the instructo rs read in wh ole or
in part were P oe's "The Cask of Amontillado,'' Stevenson's " ·wm
o' the Mill," Maupassant's" La Mere Sauvage," Miss ,Jewett's" Fame's
Little Day," Miss Wilkins's "A Village Singer," Hardy's "Tess of
the D' Urbervilles," Mr. Kipling's "The Strange Hide of Morrowbie
Ju:Zes " and "The Man Who Would be King."
2 See pages 281-299 in "The Principles of H.hetoric."

,.

58

FRESILM AN ENU U SJJ

melodrama; there was a large class of stories from
which one carried away only a vag ue impress ion that a
number of things h ad hap pened.
A plot was good
occasionally ; the treatment, very ra re ly . Dut as tlie
inst ru cto rs had expec te<l no g reater results, tl1 cy fe lt
no llifmppoint111e11t.
On Ll1 e co11Lrary, th ere was e11co urage 111 e11t in t he fact tlmt althoug h the strn cturo
was more fr ee and easy, the granunar and th e other lletails of plain t echniqu e were careful, and the se n te nces,
in Lecomin g less cramped, had not become too sprawli ng.
The g reatest benefit d erived fr om th e practice in na rration - as fr om that in descrip tion - is its tendency to
mak e a writer's sty le unbend. F ew men can write two
passa.Ll e stor ies without enlarg ing th eir vocabularies,
co nsciously or unco nsc iousl y ; anll the proLaL ili ty is
that just as the n ew words rec rnited for story -tellin g
will have more or less piquan cy, so tlt e na rrativ e
"swing" will carry the men 0 11 to write r eallie r se nt en ces, less prim aml co nventional, t houg h 110 less
firm.
One mi g ht imn.gin e that the stud ents would Le
relu ctant to leave narration a nd turn to arg ument.
If there wer e a ny yo un g li te rary arfo;ts in the class,
th ey mi g ht feel i-iggrieved. Bein g yon ths of a quite
differe nt so rt, however, t he Freshm en take hold of t he
work on the Brief (Tl1 cme XI.) arnl t l1 c Argum ent
(Theme XII.) with an in te rest that is almost s urprising.
Exce pt for such men as have got some practice in the
Freshman d elmting club, they know little or nothillg

7'11E FORTNI GII TLY TIIEMES- SECOND HALF-YEAR

59

a Lout any form of dialectics; and in the excepted- cases
the acq uaintance. is far from being thorough. At all
events, wh ether or not from a sense of inexperience in
practical work, many of them attack the problem of
arg um ent with uncommon zeal. ·
As preparat ion for Theme XI. each man has the
clw.pter ou Argument to read in the " Rhetoric," the
usual lec tures, and an especially careful statement (due ./
as a daily t heme one week before the brief) of the
question which he means to a rgue.
He is urged to
study the spec imen briefs in Professo r G. P. Baker's
"Principles of Argum entation," and to follow the
valuable directions there, in drawing up the outline
for his own process of r easoning. In addition, he has
usually t he chance to appoint a special conference with
his instructor, for the purpose of discussing the difficulties in brief-drawing , particularly as they appear
in his chosen question.
Those difficulties are not, after all, great ; but with
a class t hat has not yet for med lrnbits of logical thought,
or learned mu ch about tl1e dangers of fallacy, th ey must
he disposed of by the instructor simply, thoroughly,
a nd r epeatedly. The first and most evident n ecessity
is that the men learn how argument- the art of making the mind of some one else not only receive ideas but
believe them - how this process involves the principles
already learned in exposition, plus the new processes of
con vincing and persuading. It is well, by the way,·
for the students to examine Erskine's defense of Lotc.l.

GO

F'RJ<,"SIJMA N RNGUS!l

George Gordoi1, 1 for an exa1nple of tlie 'aid wlii el1
d escription and narra tive may give to argument. A
still mor e practical n eed is that each man shall learn to
analyze a g iven question, and to frame in precise t erms
a propos iti on whi ch exv resses without ambiguity the
idea he wi shes to estal>lish or ove rthrow. l n their
classes the inst ru cto rs rnay illu strate such analy sis and
d efinition, by taking 11p su111 c apparently plain qu est ion
and showing l1 ow tl1i s or that term 111ust be Llefi11 ed
Lefore the question can mean an yt liiu g at all. This
kind of work, especiall y if members of the class are
call ed on to tak e acti ve part in a11itlyzi11g aml deii11i11 g ,
will bring hom e to many a man the fact that before li e
can draw up a brief, or ind eed eve n think consistently,
h e must make and keep clear the sense of terms which
he has all along consid ered as self-ex planatory . lf his
ambition be, for instan ce, to determine whether or n ot
John Bunyan was a poet, he will hare the long labor of
fimling out what he means Ly the won1 "poet. " In
like mann er tl1e proposition, "C hri stian Science should
Le Hestricted Ly Law, " cannot be di sc ussed u11 t il a
me:tning has Lee n fix ed for " Chri stian Scien ce" and
for "restri ction Ly Jaw." Besid es getting an exact
m eaning for eac h t erm, the students must learn to
determin e a t once wl1i cli f;i de of a qucstiou g ives tl1 cm
the presumptiou, aml whi ch tlie bunle11 of proof; to
find what is the special point at issue .= to avoid arguing beside th at point, to lock out for the pitfalls of post
1

Di scussed in Professor Baker' s " l'ri11 c ipl cs of Argu111 e11 tati o11."

Tl!E FORTNIGJJTLY TJJEMES-SECOND lIALF-YEAR

61

lw e ergo propter hoc, of false argument from analogy,

antecedent probability, or sign, and in short of any of
the long list of fallacies. :More than once, too, the
stmlents should be reminc.led that they must not ignore
an opponent's objection ; that in refuting they must
g ive their ac.l versary fair play, and not belittle or misreprese nt 11im ; and that, throughout their work in
argument, their spirit is the spirit not so mu ch of the /
prosecuti11g attorney as of the judge delivering his
"charge," - · or at least of one who is not trying to
win an :1rgume11t at all costs . Th ey must not merely
"wri te for victory," as Dr. Johnson sometimes talked
for it.
F ew if any of the students, in fact, do consciously
try to make the worse appear the be tter reason. If
the briefs were onl y as logi cal as they are honestly
meant, the res ul ts would be successful. As it is, some
of the briefs make th eir first appearance in a hopeless
state. Most of them, ind eed, have to be gone over
thoroughly · with th eir authors in co nferen ce, as the
co rrections usual in other fortnightly th emes would not
s uffice here. A talk together enables an instructor to
show a pupil more plainly and more quickly in what
r espects the brief should Le changed. It would not be
profitable, therefore, to g ive a specim en bri ef in this
book, when there is littl e or no written record of the
suggestions and corrections. It is enough · to say that
the instructors, in conference, try to help each pupil
toward m ak ing the chief arguments form the main

62

h eads of the brie f, arranging them iu proper sequence,
and su P1}orting them, 11ot by mere assertion, but by
sound evidence and reasoning.
The twelfth and last theme is an argument, from six
to twelve pages long, wri tte 11 from the preceding bri ef.
In following th e outline of Th eme X ! , however, it
should of course Le put together in suc h a way as to
conceal the framework, tlie angl es, of the Grief. Each
writer is urge d to make the argument a m~sterpiece, as
if it were to Ge a fi11al test of what he can accon1pli8h
after the year's pracLice ; out of the dry Gon es of Ll1 e
eleventh theme he is to create, if he ca11, a God.y that
lives and moves. The arg um ent should Le, ill other
words, uot an enumeration of reasons, Gut an interesting, spirited discussion, with the triple cogency of
log ical strncture, persua8iv e te mper, and thrust of
phrase. \V ith this ideal Ge fore them, the students
write th eir last fortnightly theme. Coming at the very
encl of the co11ege year, it cann ot be given back to them
for revision or rew riting . It is reau carefully, howeve r,
has its grade entered in the record-Gook, and is then
stored away~ with all the other manuscripts of its
author, to Ge kept until called for at the end of the
Senior year.

CHAPTER VII
BI<;A DlNG, EXAMINATIONS, GRADES, AND CONFERENCES

/

THE work in English A includes more than the continual practice . in writing, the attendance at lectures
a11d conferences, and the study of the · " Pt·inciples of
Rhetoric." During the year the Freshmen read, as we
have alreauy seen, several prescribed books of widely
different nature.
It might be asked why this reading is called for at
all in a course of composition, and why, if it must be,
~he books are chosen so apparently at random. These
two possible questions it may be well to answer.
"Outside" reading is prescribed because these beginners -like all beginners - n eed to see how other and
better persons have done the kind of work which they
are trying to do. Again, so few of them have been ·
brought up to read anything at all, or would now
start to read of their own accord, that an acquaintance
with a few books must be forced . upon them. If
they are men of the right sort, they will not let the
acquaintance drop; at all events, they cannot let it
drop until after the examinations . There is, to be
sure, an excellent half-course in English Literature

\

03

,.
I

,_

,/

G4

FRJ~'S /i . 11.I N

HXUU.SJI

(E ngli: h 28) open to H arvard Freshmen; but many
of them, es pec ially Sc ien ti fi e Students, cann ot so
ana11ge their work as to indudc it, awl nrn11y morn
do not yet feel any real interes t in E11glish Literature.
It is to stimulate an intere::;t, if vossil>le, that required
read in g is made a vart of E11glish A. Th e me n are
advised to reitd the prc::;c ril>c<l hooks a8 tl1cy woultl
r ead an ythin g for th eir ow 11 amusem ent, - not as
text-books, receptacles of fa ct out of wl1ich th ey mu st
stuff the mselves for exan1ina tion . If th ey like a book,
they should try to discove r why they lik e it, what passages, what qualities, h:ive pleased th ern; i( t hey di8lik c
it or are indifferent, what th eir reasons are for that.
There should be neither fe ig ned admiration nor unreasoning disg ust, but an honest opinion, based upon
t hought. And if a ma n beco mes u::;ed to thinking
about the work of other writers, he may g ive more
thought to his own.
As to the variety in the req uired fo>t, which contains
Shakspere, Mr. Kipling, and others, this also has i ts
explanati on . vVhy, when th e time for readin g is so
' limited by other ne cessary \Vork, are not the r equi red
books chosen only from among the best in the lang uage?
vVhy are t hey not distribu ted morn evenly among t he
important periods of English Literature? Vv el 1, li e re
is a class of young men, so me of whom have been know n
to think Dickens and S lrnkspere contemporary, and
many of whom have no further critical method titan to
lump all printed books together, from H omer down

R.l!:.IDL.VG, EXA.111NATJONS, AND CONFE RENCES

. 65

to "Janice MerediLl1," und er the vaguely respectful
title of "standard authors." Plainly, such young men
need training in discrimination ; and by reading several ·
unequal and unassorted writers, about whom they must
collect s::>mething intelligent to say in an examination,
th ey may learn to clistin g ui::;h the good, the better, and
the best, - to give each auLhor something lik e his historical ancl literary place. \Vh ethe r they do this or not,/
they should be abl e to see where on e of these good or
g reat '"Titers has n ot.ibly accomplished, or failed to
acco mpli::;h, what th ey themselves have se't their feebler
pe11s to.
As with the required reading, so it is with th e "Rhet- ·
oric." A 1though the instructors use this boo k for syste matic study parallel with the theme-writing, it is not
to be learn ed by r ote . Ri g htly used, it serves as :i code
of suggestions, brief but pregnant and well illustrated,
in which a reade r may ge t many a starting-}Joint for
his own thoughts. Aud when a student lea rns th at in
an examin ation he sliall be "hel<l responsible " for a
g iven number of pages in the "Rhetoric," he ~ hould
recognize that he is expec ted, not to cram into his examin ation-book a certain measure of crude facts, but to
prese nt ca refully the res ult of his reflection on several
ideas, bis O\vn develo}Jrne nt of them. What the man
himself has thought about this or that rhetori cal principle, is the real gist of a good answer in an exa mination.
L et us n ot, however, Le misled Ly this. There are of
co urse many definition s, many concentrated statements

GG

FRRSIIMAN F,N(,'LJSJJ

HHAl>JNU, EXAMJNATJONS, AND CONFERENCES

of principle, w iich have the force of axioms, an<l which
the "Hhetoric" sets forth with great good sense anll
conciseness. These the class are at liberty to repeat
verLatim in examination, if they choose. There is no
reason, for instance, why a man should waste time in
framing a new definition for some t el'm wl1ich lie is
aske<l to explain, and of which he has Professor Hill's
succinct definition already at hand. In other respects,
however, it is the man's own ideas and phrasing tlrnt
make an answer valuable. It is hardly necessary to
a.lid, as qualification, that an answer li:ts 110 val110 if it
Le nut couchcll i11 good English; subsLance goes fur
nothing without form.
The following examples show the iiature of ordinary
questions and answers. They are taken at random from
the regular midyear and final (three-hour) examinations, and Hom some of the one-hour tests tbat any
instructor may give to his sections whenever he sees fit.
The answers are not, of course, exhibited as models,
but are printed just as they stoocl in the "blue Looks."
Nor would all the questions here be counted equal parts
of a whole exari1ination paper.
•' j

"I. 'Clearness is a relative term.' Discuss."
1. "Clea,rness is a, r elativ e term in that what is clear to 011e
person may not be clear to .another. Amliences and
readers lliffer wid ely; and if a speaker or author
would make himself clear to all his heal'ers or
readers, he must bring himself down to the level of
the lowest. What may be perfectly plain to educated
men will be Greek to an uneducated stl'eet laborer.

I

67

H ence, if a person is speaking or writing to scholars,
he may use words and expressions that may be perfectly clear to them and use them without stopping
to explain; but if he is speaking or writing to illiterate persons, he must bring himself clown to their
level, a1ul use language intelligible to them .
"Clearness ancl precision are 11ot necessarily the same.
For i11stance, a scientist speaking to scie11tists may
use scientific words a11d phrases that express exactly /
what he wishes to say. He will be both precise and '
clear. But if he uses those same scientific terms to
an a,udience of ignorant people, he will still be precise,
b11t 110 lo11g0r clnar. A 11cl i11 orclcr to make J1imself
clear, li e may hav e to sacrifice precision to a certain
exte11 t by using less accurate but more com prehensible language. This he must c!o whenever necessary,
for clearness is the first essential in either writing or
speaking.
"Shall a writer then never use scientific terms? By no
means. He must always kee p in mind the class of
readers he will have, and write what will be perfectly
dear to them. If he can keep both precision and
clearness, well. But he must be clear at any cost,
even at the cost of precision."
2. "Clearn ei:>s is a relative term because it depei1ds on the
character of the audience or readers, and on the
nature of tlie subject treated. Clearness by no means
implies precision. For instance, a treatise on a medical subject would contain many accurate, precise
terms, and would be quite clear to a doctor; but its
very preciseness would make it uuintelligihle to the
general public. There are, too, many words which
no two men interpret in the same way. Such are
'liberty,' ' church,' ancl 'society.' These expressions

-

68

'
FRESJJM.IN l~'NU /, /Sll

READING, EXAMINA1'10NS, AND CONFERENCES

should be avoid ed. m· 1lcli11 cd, if th e re is a ny dan ge r
of confus ion or an1l>iguiLy . lt is, of course, uecessary
to take rn eaniu gs for g ranted, to a certain exte11t;
for no man coulcl stop to <l.eline all his words."

"13. Incorrect use of a preposition.
"14. Putting an ad verb between 'to' and the
infinitive.
"15. Use of double negative.
" 16. Omission of a word necessary for clearness.
"A trope is the turning of a worcl from its literal
m eaning. .Metonymy, Syneccloche, Simile, Metaphor, and. Perso11iticat.iou are all tropes. For
exam pie, 'Saladin was a fox in council: ; •'As /
idl e as a painted ship upon a painted ocean';
'The Turk gov erns with a loose rein.'
."Euphemism is fine writing; that is, the use of gaudy,
flowery phrases ancl words to hide either plain
facts or unpleasant realities. For example, 'casket' for 'coffin,' 'an ovation' fot 'applause.' · In
som e cases it is allowable, especially when it is
used to avoid unpleasant suggestion."

"II. D efin e and illustrate the following terms: 'l>arl>arisrn,' 'sol ec is111, ' 'trope, ' ' e11phellli s111.'"

"A bark1ris 111 is a word ur pl1rase nut E11gli s l1.
"l. OL>solete wonls: 'pattens. '
" 2. vVonls of uati ve or foreign origin not yet
establish eLl: 'stallllpoint.'
"3. New formations.
"A sol ecism is a construction uot Engli s h. It may
t a ke the form of :
"1. Inconect use of for eign nouns, as 'cheruhim '
in t!t e sin gul a r.
"2. Inco n ect us e of th e gt=miti ve case.
"J. Puttiu g a n ominati ve as th e objec t of a verb:
'Let th ey who wi ll do this.'
"-1. Improper use of refl ex ive pronoun.
"5. Use of a d emonstrativ e pronoun, 111 refere nce
to a noun not given.
"G. Use of 'either,' 'neithe r,' in re fe renee to
more than two thin gs.
"7. Improper u se of 11uH1Le r, with co ll ec ti vfl noun s:
''l'!t e u e ws are gooLl. '
"8. Imprope r use of 'can ' and 'may: ' 'Can l
pass th e butte r'?'
"9. In correct use of' sl1all ' allll 'w ill. '
"10. Use of a tense whi ch dues uot ex press t,li e
m ean i 11 g i 11 Lc11de1l.
"11. Use of tlt e iHdi cativ e fo r the sulJjunctive.
c: 12. Use of a n adverb for an adj ecti \' C: 'The sea
looks roughly.'

6V

"111. The Character of Beatrix Esmond.

I

I•

I'
I

t
,1

II
'I

"Beatrix Esmond began early to show the worldly,
unpleasant side of h er nature; for, when she was
a little girl, every attention paid to her brother,
Frank, caused her a fit of jealous temper. As
sh e gre w older, other traits appeare~. Fickle
and coq uett.ish as she was, she yet had some
apprnciation of h e r moth er's strength and purity. She was far too h eadstro11g, however, to
curb li e r spirit for love of any one; and an early
escapade with a yo ung lord of the neighborhood,
when she and h e were as yet only children in
age, rev ealed. h er true nature to her parents.
"At her father's d eath, Beatrix flared up, f<?r a moment, into fierce anger at Henry Esmond. It
was like her to do this ; for Harry was in no

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READING, RXA.111.NAI'IONS, AND CONFERENCES

FR /<,'S /l.lf .I N ENG U STI

way to bl a me fo r her fat her's fate . As th e years
passell, Deatri x ·was now fri emlly, 11ow ruue to
Henry, to he r mother, to every one about her ;
but not till slt e 1Jec:w1 e a Ma.ill of Honor, nt
court, lli(l li er real wo rldliness and se lfl slrness
Rhow fo rth.
"This pos it ion at c·.o m t was ga.in rnl largP ly hy li er
beauty, w11i eh was t he topi c of sociuty c hatte r.
No one reali zed t li e power of her eyes, t he grace
of her fi gure, better t han Beatrix herself, t houg lt
it brought crow(ls of ardent atlmirers about her.
The possesso r of charm s like t hese, howeve r,
did not in te]l(l to liitle t hem under a bushel by
ma n y i 11 g a 111 a n of her ow 11 station ; arnl for tl1is
reasou she el'l.gerly seized t he cha nce of a n 'alliance' with a lord of Scotland. His sudden
death revealed to her the . fact t hat she had
secretly drealled t he maniage.
"Not long after t hi s episode, Henry arnl Frank uudertook t heir phn of resto rin g t he rightful heir to
the t h ro ne of E ngland. The Prin ce, who had
been livi ug a careless, perhaps vicious li fe in
Fran ce, took shelter for a while beneath t l1 e
Esmonds' roof, in London. Durin g his stay,
Beatrix coucei ved wha.t seems to have bee n a
real passion for t he man. The Prin ce, 11 ever
slow to respoud to auy advances, ·was so ta.ken
up wit h Be:itrix t hat he paitl poor atte nt ion to
hi s ·weigh tier interests. _At lengt h Frank a11d
Henry reali zed t.11 0 clanger. Beat l'i x was L'O llloved
to the cotrn t ry-h ouse of the Castlewoods, for
safety, but not before she left a secret note
for the Prince.
" After the Prince learn ell of her removn.l he refused

.

11

to stay longer with the Esmonds. Some time
passed, and the day finally came when he was to
meet with his partisans, in secret, and take the
oath of allegiance to his country. The Prince
had disappeared. Beatrix's note was found.
H enry a nd Frau k rode hard all the following
ni ght n.Jl(l ar rivetl at Castlcwoocl in tim e to save
the girl's rep utation, but not her honor. 'l'he
Prince swore to the purity of his intentions; /
and as nothin g could undo what had been done,
the men patched up a peace. Beatrix was angered too much for any reconciliation, and lived,
from then for ward, away from her family.
"Beatrix had, I think, an unusually warped nature.
She was not lacking in all lovable traits, at
first; but she gave fr ee rein t o her ambition,
and, bein g of an imperious disposition, lost all
sense of moderation and self-restraint. At heart
she was ha rd and cold. H er fits of kindness
came less from impulse than from a guilty conscience. She was not misled by weakness ; she
went astray with full knowledge of her actions.
" I am sure that this is a true estim ate of her character, because she never, for one instant, aroused
my pity or sympathy, as a character of natural
attractiveness would be sure to d o, however
faulty or even impure it might be."

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"IV. Expl ain fully the uses of 'shall' and 'wilf' in direct
and in indirect discourse to ex press futurity. 1 "
1. "In direct discourse, to express 3imple futurity, 'shall'
i The uses of " shall" and " will," by the way, give more trouble
to more Freshmen than almost a ny other question of grammar.

72

FHESflil! .IN ENGUS/J

is used with th e lirst pcrso11, 'wi.ll' with th e
second and third, as follow s :
I shall

we shall
.)' OU

will

he will

they will

"In interrogations, to express fnturity, 'shall' is
nse<l with th e fir st and second perso11s, ' will'
with th e third, as follow s:
Shall 1 ?

shall we ?
shall you ?

will lie ?

will they '.:'

"In indirec t di scourse, to ex press futurity , if th e subj ect of both cl a uses is th e sam e, ' shall ' is used in
all three person s, as follow s :
I say that I shall,
. you say that you shall,
h e says that he shall.

"If the subj ec t of both cl:rn ses is not the same, th e
same auxiliary is used as in th e direct Lliscourse,
as for instan ce :
H e says th at I shall,
h e says th at y on wi I l,
yon say that lie will."
2. "To expres s futurity iu direct di scourse, 'sliall' a nd
'will ' a re used ns follows: 'I sliall, you aud he
will, we shall, y ou a11d they wil I. ' Th e reason
for the nse of 'will ' in the seconll and third persons is one of co mtesy ; for Ly using 'will ' we
a ssume that th e person or p erso11s r efe rred to
a re giv e n a voi ce i 11 th e 111 a tter. Comtesy is, of

REAIJLVU, EXAMINATIONS, ANIJ CONfi'IlRENCES

73

course, unnecessary to oneself. The same reason
explains the use of these words in indirect discourse. For instance, ' He says that he shall go'
(both verbs havin g the same person as subject) .
But, ' He say s that you will go.' The two verbs
have different subjects here, and hence courtesy
demands the use of 'will.'"

"V. Discuss th e principl es of construction whereby emphasis may be secured, - emphasis not merely of words /
aIHl of sentences, but of larger portions of the
com position.
.
"Show how emphasis in this larger sense is illustrated
in any one of th e plays or the stories you have been
ask ed to read."
" The chief factor in the emphasizing of a single word
is its position in a sentence. The beginning of the
sentence is an emphatic position for an important
word or phrase; unimportant words and phrases
should, as a rul e, not be placed there. Even more
emphatic is the end of the sentence as a position
.for an important idea. Hence words may be emphasized by being placed either at the beginning or
encl of the sentence.
"Another means for securing emphasis, if the forcible
word be in the predicate, is by inversion. For
instan ce, the anangement of ' Down came the
storm,' 'Now is the time,' emphasizes the adverbs
at th e beginnin g. This inver sion , however, should
not be used too often, lest it become tiresome, and
thus defeat its own purpose.
"Stronger even than inversion as a means of emphasis
is climax - the arrangement of ideas leading from
the less to the more important. A good example

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74

F RESl!JIAN RNOUSll

is Cicero's falllous, 'J\ Li it, exccssit, cvasit, ernpit.'
Antithesis also gives elllphasis; as, for in stance,
'vVe ea,t to liv e, not live to ea,t.' Skillful r epeti·
· tion also lends ewphasis to the iclea repeatcLl. The
statement of a,IL idea Loth literally and figuratively,
or from two different points of view, serves to enforce it on the reader.
"For sentences, rn uch tlic same rnl cs hold true. l'osi
tion at the begi1mi11 g or eud of a paragraph,
arraugement in the onler of climax or antit hesis
'
all serve to emphasize.
"Still larger portions of a work rnay be emphasizeLl by
grouping al l other matter arnu]}(l t.hc1n :1s s1il >onli11ate or accessory; tha,t is, IJy makiug everythi1 1g
else d ependent on th em.
"An excellent example of this may be founu in Th ac keray's 'H enry Esmond.' The two parts most emphasized are the death of Lord Castlewood in the
du el, i 11 the early part of the book, and the ani val
a nu doings of the you ng pretender to tl1 e throne,
near the close. Th e action of the early part of the
book leaLls up to the fir st of these as a climax; then
come events many a nd varied, Lut all dependent
on the death of t he nobleman, and caused by it.
Fiually the tid e of the story, after so long an eLb,
begins to ris e once more until it reach es the hi ghest point of all with the climax at the encl of the
book. \Yh en a r eader has finish ed the work
these two tW1\ 11 ts an\ t ho ones starnpetl rnost elc::Ll'l,y'
Oil his mind, around which all th e rest of the book
seems to cluster. Such is a skillfu l emphasis."

"VI. Discuss the tests of Good Use whi ch should govern
a writer or speaker iu the choice of words."

/{F, .IJ) JNG, EXAMINATlONS, AND CONFERENCES

"In tl1 e selection of proper words it is well to follow
t h e best writers of the day; so in the whole work ,
of cornposition it is best to take as a model the
best writers of the present time, and likewise, the :
best of past t imes. No one writer combines in ·
himself all the excellences that make gootl composition. What was good in the seventeenth
the eighteenth centu~·y may and may not be good
now. 'l'he styles of different authors change, and /
the sty les of different ages change. Good Use is
dictatetl by the best scholars of any time taken
as a whole antl not separately.
"The style of G iLL(m or Macaulay is h eavy comparetl ·
with th e present; the matter of paragraphing ·
changes, being rather different now from what it,
was a century ago. The use of long sentences is
growing obsolete if it has not a lready; more short
sentences and a greater variety of them are found
in writers of to day."

or

Other examples of questions are:
"D iscuss the principles of nanative writing, and show
how these principles are illustrated in 'Adam Bede.'
"Define and illustrate the following terms: 'unity,' :
'pathetic fallacy,' 'deduction,' 'trnpe,' 'ease,' 'periodic
seutence,' 'argionentuni ad hominem,' i good use.'
"Discuss the principle of Unity and its application to ,
sentences, paragraphs, and whole com positions."
·
"Is the following sentence (in italics) periodic or loose?
\Vhy ? Hewrite the sentence so that it shall be the kind
of sentence, periodic or loose, which in its present form it is:
uot ·: ,.

76

FRES/Ll!AN ENGLJSI/

" ' And with all that, aml with the ~erla.inty that: those things
were gone forever, arose the great longing for one more breath
of liberty, for one more ?'i<le over the boundless steppe, for one
more clrcwght of the sour lcvass, of the camp brew of rye and
nialt.' "

The examination-grade of each student is entered
on his record-sheet in the instructor's book, aml
forms a p.a,rt of the data from which to determine
the grade of his \Vork for the . whole year. For both
examinations aml themes the marks given run from A,
which means a grade between 100 and no, to E, the
sign of failure, \vhich means anything below 40. Of
course, grades that stand for an instrnctor's impression
of a piece of writing cannot be mathematically precise.
One may, however, explain A (a mark rarely given) as
signifying that a man's work not only is correct, but
has some rnatmity of thought, some distinction of style,
some originality; B (90 to 78), that the work, though
less distinguished, still shows more individual qualities
than the average; C (78 to 60), that it is in the main
sound and intelligent, - that the writer need not take
any further eourse in composition unless he wishes to
do so ; D (60 to 40), that it ·is faulty or irregular, and
that in his Sophomore year the writer must take a
half-course in composition; and E, that he must take
English A again.
To give one of these marks at the
end of the college year is to strike a Lalance of all the
marks, daily, fortnightly, and examination, on a student's page in the record-book. An average of all these

READING, EXAMINATIONS, AND CONFERENCES

77.

will be a fairly 'just estimate, formed from corrected
impressions; especially since the page also contains a
condensed criticism of each fortnightly theme. At the
weekly ·meetings of instructors, moreover, the standard
of grades is kept miifoni1 for the whole class, and all
douLtful cases are discussed and settled.
No matter what the intrinsic value of a student's
writing, his grade is of course lo\vered if he Le guilty /
of neglect. Failure to rewrite or revise, for example,
may result in an "E " for work that in itself deserves
a better nrnrk. Indeed, stmlents are continually urged,
to rewrite or revise with the greatest care; for to see
their faults, to get any good from the corrections of the
instmctors, they must follow those corrections in actual
practice at once.
Students should get much help, too, from the conferences; but the latter should not be thought of as merely
technical lectures, focussed on one student. That may
be, and indeed should be, one form .of them; an instructor, by picking up a bundle of manuscripts and
reviewing them rapidly with the \vriter, can point out
faults or merits vividly and specifically, and even in
fifteen minutes can give a good deal of the advice
which that writer especially needs. On .the other hand,
- or rather at the other extreme - the instructor and
the student may spend the fifteen minutes in friendly .
talk about some question which may or may not · be
connected with English Composition, but on which
the Freshnrnn wishes to have the. opinion or advice of

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an older man. All conferences, at any rate, wl1ether or
not they are limited to technical instruction, are meant
to give instructor and student a chance for friendly discussion, for that better acquaintance with each other
which is impossible whe11 one man is upon the lecturer's
platform and another in the seat of the studeilt. In a
course in writing, pupil and teacher camwt Lecome too
well acquainted. And finally, it should be remembered in this course that if reading maketh a full man,
and. writing an exact man, conference maketh a ready
man.

CHAPTER VIII
CONCLUSION

this rough outline of the year's work in Eng- /
lish A, there remain a few words of further explanation.
A reader should not forget that in -m.any cases the
writers of this book have taken up only some of the
methods of some instructors.
They have tried, however, to make these methods represent the many
others that they could not review. Again, as the
course in its present reconstructed form has been
given for only one year, 1 it might seem that some
of the conclusions in the foregoing chapters have
been made by hasty generalization. . But this would not
be true. One year in a course of this size, with such a
prodigious amount and variety of manuscript, furnishes
quite enough cases for inspection ; and these one can
verify from the results of previous years, when English
A was in its simpler form.
At all events the present
working scheme of the course has proved itself, even in
the first year, practical and adequate. - Much of its sueAFTER

I This was written at the close of the college year 18!1{}-1900.
It
shonld be said that the methods used in that year so far justified
themselves ,as to be adopted in all important particulars for the year
1900-1901.
79

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FHX::JJJM . IX

1'.' 1\'l~f, / Sll

cess 1s du e to i\1 r. B. S. llurlbut; his ex perience with
Loth Fres l1111a11 E11gli .-; h aml Frcs l1111 c 11, aml his cxcce di11gly good 111anage uie11t, made a new allll co mplicated
system work 'vithout diOiculty . Fi11ally, it rni g ltt be
well to glance iLt what so me of the st ud e nts tlt emsel ves
have writte n aLout th e yea r's \rnrk.
At th e ir li11n.l
mee ting with D ean Bri ggs th ey we re a sked to express
ca ndidly th e ir opinion as to what th e co urse liad don e
for the m. Of th e following spec in1 e ns, the first 1s one
of the frank es t among th e Ye ry few complaints:
" l t hard ly seems possibl e that thi s is th e last weekl y
meeting of Sectiou IV. Th e year has gone faste r than any
former on e, I can think [of} It is riuite nat ural, at this ti Ille,
.to look baek fur a 1110111 e11t, :tllll eu nsi<ler rny 811glish A euursc.
Has it illlprov ell me '? IIav c I gut any real goucl out of i t'?
Speakiug calllliLll y , outs ide uf Lhe Tliursclay meetin gs, I Llo
not fee l that 1 hav e got very rnuel1 out of it, - that I am L cttl~ r
off than I was at the beginning uf the year. In au end eavor
(and a not very successful on e) to conform to certain rnl es,
I ha ve lost a l 1(!ri gin a l i ty, - eve rythin g has a sort of ln.Lorccl
rehas hin g, which mak es whatever I have to say, dull ancl
u n interesti 11 g."
This, Ly the way, is th e less di::>co nragin g to instrn c tors
Leen. use, when co mparecl with any of tlt e writer 's earlier
work, it s hows a distinct gain in stru c ture. lf li e bas
got uotlti11g el::,;e from J1is practice, lie 1Ht8 learn ed to
complain more effectively.
The other two themes show th e spirit of the avera.ge
co mmeu ts.

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CONCJ,USION

81

" 111 this, 111y last thellle, I think it woulcl uot be amiss
to state what good l lmv e rcce iv ell fro111 English A. Primarily, it has openecl my eyes. I see details and colors in
objects which I woulc.l not have disce rn ed had I not been on
t he lookout for so mething to describe in a theme. 'Tis true
that I mrely wrote a desc ription with fine detail, but the
practice of looking for things to write about has unquestionably done 111 e a cl eal of good. I am Leg in11i11 g to leam how
to express my ideas . Th e lesson of unity of thought anq/
exp i·ess ion has been one which I hav e .worked aL. Rapidity
in collecting my thoughts has also come to me from themewriting, for necessity has often compelled me to write a theme
in ten minutes. No doubt some of th em must have appeared
so, but I have receiv ec.l the benefit of quick concentration of
th ought. l hav e aim ed at variety of ideas and variety of
expression , and have succeeded som ewhat. These are 011ly
a fe w of the many good res ults of English A. "
"I rej oice that this is my las t clail); theme for this year;
yet I recogni ze that much gooll has come of th em, and that
l mu the recipient of a goodly share of benefit. If a person
is goin g to learn to write English, he mu st write it. Subj ects may be scarce; but they are uot half so scarce as
appropriate, s pecifi c, well-soundin g words and for cible const rn ctions, which are necessa1·y to the success of th emes. A
gl'cat weedi11 g-011t process ha8 Lee n in operation, estimable
anll e ffective wh en th e Fl'eshm an looks properly at the
matte r. H e must see that he has been really made over, or
rather, that his style of composition has been remolded into
finner material. Th e rigi1l mrnles of co rreetion, if followed
even to a very small deg l'ee, 111ust have had some effect on
l1i s former tottering stalllla l'd."

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SPECIMEN TI-IEl\tIES

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T LIE SP ECll\lEN THEMES
Of th e followiug Hp1 ·cin1 e 11 s, 1, ~ . n, ·I, G, aml G are d:tily
thellll'H, and 7, 8, !J , 10, l J, <LIHl 1'.!, fort11ig·ht,J y .
a.11d iJ (ill
their original Yersi01rn) and '1 a.JHl Gare r1:·proLl11ccd in f: 1csi111ile.
Th ey are all aYerage pieces of Fresl1111an \\Ti Li11g, chof:ie n drl;n-

'

a ll y at rau<lo111.
The r ewritten Yersio ns of Th en1 es 4, i'i, G, and 1~ a rc mi t
g iven h er e. Them e 7 a,ntl i ts rewri tte 11 fon11 are i11te nderl
to appear as fragments, to show how co 111pletcly two co rrespomling pages iu t he first co py a nd in t he second rnay diffe r.
and how a writer, in th e first exercise of t he year, 111 ay ga in
in expressin g himself co nn ectedly . The rl:' \Hi tten version , liy
the way, also shows the co rrections 111ailc at a co n fen~ n ce.
On e shonld r ern e111her .t.hat in all t hese specime ns t he r ewri tten forllls a re not offered a s 1110J els.

t

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SPECLME:N

?I

THE~IE

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1'1 19

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~PECli\lEN

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TllEi\lE 1.

H,E\V1UTTEN VERSION

Tlt e tlay was clear, as few of the days in Cam.bridge
appear to he. vVe took advantage of the weath er
a11tl set out for that Mecca of all visitors to Il ostonBull ker Hill.
Our first experience in . the subway was rather
enjoyable hecause it was something entirely ~rnw.
vVhen we had reached the .Mo nument, we sat down
for a few mom ents, to rest. My friend who had been
sick, feeling unahle to attempt the journey, remained
Lelow, while I began the tedious ascent. Th e winding stairway, on which I co unted two hundred and
ninety-four steps, see med interminabl e, but at last I
gained the summit.
As the sun was bright, I was abl e to obtain a few
snap-shots of the city below with my camera, which
1, for a wonder, hall not forgotten to take. During
the descent, weird sounds echoed and reechoed
through the hollow center of the Monument. They
so und ed to me as though the g hosts of the heroes of
the battle, in whose memory t he Pile was erected,
were rese nting the intrusi on of the sight-seers.
After signing the reg ister 1 went forth to join the
throng which g reets new -comers to Boston with :
" Have yon Leen to Bunk er Hill yet? vVell, you
r eally mm;t visit it befo re yo u leave town."

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Sl'ECli\IEN TIIEl\lE 2
Verb?

11·
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Ease?

A little girl of al.JUut eight years, a poodle, aml a
doll. This was the party that entered a Harvard
Square car a little above Harvanl Bridge. Th e little
girl sat tluw11 with the po(){lle u11d e r on e arm, and
the doll umler the other, and smiled at the oLher
occupants of the car. She seemed to mean, "l'm a
pretty big girl to be trn velling all alone, don't you
think so." The car rolled on until it reached Holyoke St A. Here the little girl with lier two darlings,
calmly and proudly arose, passed clown the aisle,
~ jumped off the car, and walked slowly down the
~ street, pausing every now and then to admonish her
doll, which was exceedingly refractory.

80

SPECIMEN THEME 2.

REWRITTEN VERSION

A li ttle girl of about eight years, a poodle, and a
doll made up the party which entered a Harvard
Square car the other day. vV ith a smile at the other
occupants of the car, she sat down with the poodle
under one arm, and the doll under the other. She
probably wished to say, "I'm a pretty big girl to Le
travelling all alone, don't you think so?" The car
rolled on until it reached Holyoke Street, where the
child calmly and proudly rose and left the car. As
she walked slowly down Holyoke Street, I could see
her pau:-:;e every now and then to admonish her doll,
which was evidently in very poor temper.

87

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8IMEN THEME 3

Sl'ECI :\IEN TU E!\IE

a.

ItEWlUT'l' EN VEHSIU>I

Co~v1.;L:8 ,\TIO N

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The art of convenmt ion is far more important tlian
the art of writing, for th e rea::;ou tlmt we are apt to
talk wiil1 so me u1ie m<t11 y times 0He11er than we write
a letter , or ot.herwi::;e exp ress our thoug11ts in writing.
\Ve 8honld therefore du ever ything in our power
to 1l evelop our voealrnlary, all<l to improve our style.
For t his purpo8o, let us no t be afraid of using HOW
words, m erely l>ecanse at tl1e first attempt they sonncl
a trifie forcell; let n::; not Le afraid of employing a
spirite1l or even an arnlacious 8tyle of speech. Hut
let us rather, like Patrick Henry, plunge into the
rnicl8t of a. seHtence arnl t rn st in (iod to pull us
t hrough.
Only in t his way can an intelligent, spirited, int erestin g, flow of lang uage be d eveloped ; for h ere,
as elsewhere, the well-worn proverh, "nothi11g venture, nothing have," may he advantageously nppli e1L
U nl ess we enlarge arnl improv e our thremlbare, and
all too in compl ete vocabnlary, and cl1ange our stilt.e1l
conventional ::;enten ees into smn et11i11g more fln ent,
we can never 1wpu.t.n lH \<: om c hrilliant, or eveu interesting uonvunmtio11ali:-:;l8.
8()

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g 3TG'IHL xmG03"dS

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SPECTl\IEN TIIEME fl

The selection from M-ii. Stevenson's book, describing his method of learning to write, emphasizes the
fact that technique is the first thing to master. ln
this point he is sustained by nea rly every author I
have read, not 'lle rely in regard to literature but in
Loose .
. I
eve ry f orm o f accomp l 18 nn ent.
After all, one man's writings are the composite
photograph, as it were, of the scenes portrayed by ?
other writers.
ce
The daily practiffi..Rg necessary to master the technique of a iy form of'texercise -0f the mental or R.
physical faeulties, is 1' the worst kind of drudgery ;
Ito moHt people ; but it is really the only way in
which the thing can be accomplish; cl. The saying, v.
"Practise makes perfect," appears th e more trne, th e I s11.?
mo re one thinks of it. Tn fact it is not only tnw Order
bnt almost a self-evi(lent trnth.
!'
e 1 ~ 1~~·
l O 0 1 ( 1 :S .
Stevenson 8howed his determination by k eeping
np his practiHe - . whether h e lik e<l or not, I do Sp?
not know ; " li11t on e thing l do know," as the blirnl Order.
beggar said : That Stevenson accomplished his no caJJ
purpose.

I

i

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r

;

. .!

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:1

'
~

'i

,y
''

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IN STRUCTO R' S COMMENT: -

Connect yow· ideas better.
91

~------ ---·

•

·-- - ----·-··

- --··-----·-.

-

J I

SPECIMEN

TIIEJl!E 7

93

ar111ear
lmve an a bl 10nence f u.1. ....11 s··u1·t...,"' of what
.
hypocritical forms ancl ntes .
1\[y frien<l.s have been comparatively few but most
Sl'ECL\LE~

TlIEi\lE 7

··,

R. "as" ~he

thought it the best place for the study of Chemistry, which has al ways bee n my hoLby. As l agreed

11illa-

with l1im there, and, as I before rernarkcd, the l J 11i vereon sity scu111i11g- to offer tl1e best fac ilit.ics a1Hl i11<11u·e1etiun JI.
'
rnents,
l
came
to J larvanl.
nsiul1sn-

I

/l·

Sp.

]J.

p.

]J.

Sp.

l have al ways bee n a great re:uler arnl us ed to like
History espec ially, lint. s111«.e l began to study tl1e
latter, I sieke11etl of it.
Poetry was n e r e 1· my
favorite ancl prose d esc riptions · are very mu ch of a
bore to me. Physi cs and Math ern at ies han~ al \ntys
appealed to me more or less, L11t Cl1ernistry has been
my favorite stmly, a11cl I tho11glit once of st1ulyi11g
m ede cin e, Lnt cl ec ickcl l li:ul nnt the ti111 e · for it.
English Literature arnl Hlictor ic, I ncr cr cared for
particul:ul.r, becanse it was never rna<l e interesti ng
for me li11t I always like•l Gcn11a11 a1)(l French, tl1e
'-only twu languages hcsicles E11gfo,;h that l h:tve
studiecl.
l\ly h ealth has n eve r b een of tl1e best, llllt I liaYc
kept constantly in Cy11rnasi11111 praet isl' a1Hl l1an~
LeO'tlll
to feel the !tood effects o( it. Whoelin<bl' l1as
b
Leen my favorite exe rc ise for years.
Congregationalil-4m has bee n rny religion 1-4111ee
youtl1 ancl I see IIU r eason wl1y I slwuhl e ltauge.
~

lJ

p.

, __

\J2

I

of them have Leen true. friends.
·
Now that I have~een ~ Coll~~e life I
woulcl not change it for any mercantile pos1t10n . .
INST RUCTOR'S Co~nlfi:N'r:

This is lliscreditable work. Your S}lellin,q is weak, 110111· sente nces
are a 11~ere slop qf ••and" and "but," and your paragraphs c~r: bw1~l~es
of' words without any oryanic i·elation to the wl~ole composition. '1 he
..
1;ro,ciress of the whole theme is careless_ and en·~t.ic.
You shnitll.l be ext reme ly cm·ef1il in re-wntlll.f/ · I'lan the en toe
theme /i cforehancl, .~ee that each 'part is in its proper Jilace, and brace
t!Jl your sentences. Pun ctuate.

•/( .

p.

SPECIMEN THEME 8

A
SPECIMEN TIIEi\IE 7;

no cap.

x
x

[(,

/\

REWRITTEN VERSION

specialty. Harvanl offcre<l th e Les t advantageR, Ro
I started my final preparation. l\ly father, wl10 h:ul
neve r had a college etlu catio11, and wh o l1ad alw<iys
Lee n anxious for me to go to .... Qolleget parli eularl y
chose Harvard for the same reason that I did. Tl1 e1t
agai11, he thought it WOlllcl be uette r for lll e to Rt ud y
away fr om home as, if l weut to Colu1uLia or so me
other ~ neare r home, I woulll Le ve ry apt to
neglect my stullies, having numero us outsille engagements.
At a distant place like H a rvard , 0 11 the
contrary, ~ would be more likely to study more,
there bein g not hing outs ide to draw him away.
There was one mi stake I made in coming to I larvard : I should have taken the entrance exam i11alio11s
a year befo re l dill. l was bette r prepared at tl1at
time, but, of course, not being sure I was co111i11 .Q"
here, in fact, not knowing/\l was going to ally co llege, I did not take any examinations. .My met hods
of thinking had also bee n changed uy the fact ( l1a t
I had been at work in a bank for six mo11tlrn before
I came to Cambri<lg e. It was harder, th ere for e, to
get into the swing a nd routin e of study again , t han
it would have been had I co me directly from the
Hig h School where I prepared myself.

I

!J.!

.\

DAY ON/\CHAH~

vVe started from Riverview, ~' early one
1norr1ing last smnmer, to paddle as far up the river V·
as we could and return that <lay. Our party con::;isted of ouly three, my sister, a friend of ours, and
myself. I had ne ver been in a canoe before, but as x
t here were two t o paddle, I only pushed straight
ahead and let the other fellow steer.
The day
appeare<l as if it woul<l be a perfect one, ther.e were Conclen.~e
to 4 wo rds.
.
no clouds and just enoug 1i b reeze to ma k e t h 111gs
comfortable.
A long the lower part of the river there was nothing new, but ~ju s t as I had often seen it. I soon What was?
got the 'hang' of paddling, and we made good time
till we came near Newton Lower Falls. There the
river was narrower and not so deep, so that the cur- p.
rent ~vas quite strong. A littl
rLher on the river Vary your
-o the right appeared the s.
di vicl ed. . The bran'
deeper, so w , arted up that one, but we had not
gone far when the canoe rubbed on the bottom. We
were, however, n ear enoug h to the island to step out
on it. This was the begini11g of a long carry past Sv.
C

ing

two or three dams. .'\¥€. crosse4 the island and the
/\ we

/\

other branch of the ri ve r, Afttl were . soon out on the
highway. After a hard carry we at last reached
the water and continued our way up the river. This
95

I

~~s.

JJ.

FUE8l!JJLI N

1-: NUL /.'i/l

imrt of the river was rather shallow and full of larO'e
t:>
rncks rising al.Jove the surfaee of the water.
ln a few minutes we were at Newton Uper Falls,
where tlicrc were two da111s. The sl1ort dista11 L:c
Letwee11 th em is, perhaps, the most beautiful part of
tl1e river, though a great part/\ its beauty is due lo
the hig 11 arc h uf Edto Bridge. A 111ilf; Ul' SU ueyu11d
this, tlie river L2cam e Lroad and deep, a ml Ho wed
through a wiLle tract of meadow. Dy this time it
was 110011, or at least time tu eat so111ethi11g. Right
opposite us on the sliore there was a little hummuek
euverell with pi11e trees. \Ve made for that, aml
were soon comfortauly sealell under the trees eating
i>otato-salad, samlwid1es, aml stuffed eggs.
After we liaLl rested ·we started towards hom e.
The return was a repetition uf the journey up,

Sp.!

' ]>.

I'·

that
/\

Sp.

I111z1lied in
" racing ."

except/\ the. order of things was reversed. 'Vh e11 we
ani ved at tl1e uper falls we uoticed a bluish haze 011
the western hurizo11, aml by tl1c ti1ue we reaehe<l
the luwe1· falls tl1c sky was coverccl with great ba11ks
of clouds 1w..; i11g Ly (at a lively rate}
vVe made
the last and 1011gest ca rry in a hmry, Lut i11 our
haste we !?Ut t.l.1e canoe i11 the river Lefore 1.lte- waler
was Lleep e nough to float it when we were in it. By
this time it lrncl Llarkened, a11Ll the wiud Legan tu
Llow aml tear through the trees as if (it wa::;) trying
to keep pace with the clouds above. After strnggling
aml shoving for most five minutes we rcaehell deeper

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11·

R.

G.

·I

A DAY IJN TIIE CHARLES RIV Ell

97

water. A little way ahead there was (there was) a x
private boatAh011se which lta<.l a covered porcl1, an<.l
we made for that. Just before we .reache<l the float
there was a p-reat flash of _.:..
] l~lttening,
followed 1111- ::Jp.
· ;,..__
:....;.
me<liately by a sharp crack and then by a deep roli
of thunder.
This seemeLl to have RhaLtered the
clouds, foe it began to pour as I never saw it pour p .

__

'~

V·

e

before.
\Vhen we recovenl from the bhw of the Sp.
ligl1tening we found the canoe was fost ·on rt rock. Sp.
lVIy sister, who had been rather 11ervous during al~
this fun, now gave a groan, for she thought we were p.
lost, but I thought it was great. A final shove sent J(.S.
the canoe off the rock and up to the float, so that we p.
were soon uncle r cover.
p.
The Llowr~our lasted for about half an hom, and ";
then it settl;;:l into a steady rain. \Ve waitell over ~
an hour to see if it would not stop, but as it did not, ""'
aml as it was getting late, \Ve decided to go on in
nn
en/I.
the min. vVe fellows tonk off Olli' coats, Collars and
.
ties, and caps so my sister could keep them dry with
herself under ';j1 the pillow8, shawls, ancl things we
Jiad. The rain kept np steadily, hut it was warm
and the canoe seemed to go easily through the darkness. vVe went thus for about four miles, but I am
sure I enjoyed it as much, if not more, than the dry .g"'
G.
~
part of onr joumey.
~

-

INSTRUCTOR'S COMMF.NT: -

For this time of yp_ar, such a 71iece of wnrk cis this , with such a
variety of ub1Jious mistakes, is vei·y elem en tm·y . The !Jl'ade -18 E.

-

A DAY ON THE CHARLES RIV.ER

SPECIMEN TJIEl\rn 8.

A

REWRITTEN VERSIO.\T

DAY ON THI<": CH ABLES Jl1v1m

'Ve started from Hi vel'view, \V altham, early one
morning last stunmer, to paddle as far up the riv e r
as we could and re turn that day. Out' party co11~
sisted of only three, my si::;ter, a fri end of ours, and
me. I had n eve r bee n in a canoe be fore, but as there
were two to paddl e, I only pushed straight aheatl
and let the other fellow steel'. Th e day promised to
be pe rfect, there were no clouds a11tl •J'ust enouo·l1
ti
breeze to 111ake th i 11 gs cmn fort al)l e.
Along th e lowe r part of the rive r there was notl1ing new; it was just as I had often ::;ecn it. I soo11
got the 'hang' of paddling, aIHl we made goml time
till we came n ea r Newton Lower Falls.
As the
river was narrower and not so deep there, tl1e cune11t
was quite strong. A littl e fmtli el' on the rive r
divided.
vVe started up the lmw ch to th e riglit.,
sincn it secrn cd to bn t.IH~ dt'eper, but we 11:111 11uL
gone far wh en the canoe rnbbed on tlie bottom. vV e
were, howev e r, 11ear enough to the island to step out
on it. This was tl1e beginning of a lung carry past
two or three dallls. Crnssing· the islantl and the
U8

99

other branch of the river, we were soon out on the
highway. After a hard carry we at last reached
the water and con tin ue<l our way up the river. · This
part of the river was rather shallow, and full of large
rocks rising above the surface of the water.
In :t few minutes we were at Newton Upper Falls,
wliere there were two dams. The short distance
between them is, perhaps, the most beautiful part of
the river, though a great part of its beauty is due to
the high arch of Echo Bridge. A mile or so beyond
this, the river became broad and deep, flowing through
a wide tract of meadow. By this time it was noon,
or at least time to eat something. Right opposite
us on the shore th ere was a little hummock covered
with pine trees. vV e made for that, and were soon
comfortably seated under the trees eating potatosalad, sandwiches, and stuffed eggs.
After we had rested, we started towards home.
The return was a repetition of the journey up, except
that the order of things was reversed. . ·w hen we
arrived at the uppe.r falls, we noticed a· bluish haze
011 the western horizon, aml by the time we reached
. the lower falls, the sky was covered with great banks
of clouds blowing by at a lively rate. vVe made the
last and longest carry iu a huny, but in our haste
we put the ca~1oe in the water before it was deep
enough. By this time it had darkened, and the ·w ind
began to blow aml tear through the trees as if trying
to keep pace . with the clomls above. After strug-

L. or C.

- I

100

FRE8IIMAN ENGLISI!

gling and shoving for almw;t fi vc minutes, we r eacl1 ed
llceper water. A liWc way altc;ul Ll1 erc was a private iJoat-house wi1ic !t lmll a covered porch, tl1e 01ily
slie1ter in sight. .Just Lefore we reaehell the lloat
there \Vas a great llash of liglit11iug, followed imm ediate1y Ly a sliarp ernc k, al1ll tlien by a d ee p roll of
tl1umler. This sec111cll to liave sliattcrell the clouds,
for it licga 11 to po11r as l never saw iL JHllil' before.
Wh en we r ecove red from tl1c Llow of tl1 e Jight11i11g
we fouwl tl1c canoe was fast on a rnck. l\ly sister,
who liaLl l1ce11 ratl1er 11erv1111s duri11g all t l1is 1'1111, 11ow
gave ;t teniLle grna11, fur she U1011 g lit \\·e were lust.
A final sl1ove sent the canoe off the rock allll up to
tl1e float , so that w e were soon under cover.
After the Llownpour hall lastell for aLout half an
l1our, it sett led into a steady rain. W e waitell over
an hour to sec if it would 11ot s lop, but as it did n ot,
aml as it was getti11g late, we d ecided to go 011 in tl1 e
mill.
\V e fellows gave our coats, collars and lies,
and CH]JS to Ill.)' sister to ke ep dry wiL11 l1 erse lf Ul1ller
all th e pillows, sltawls, aml tl1i11gs we l1atl. :\ltlwugh
we had to go thus for aLout four mil es through a
ste:uly rain, it was n ot cold, a11Ll tl1e canoe see metl
to go eas ily thrn11gli tl1e darkn ess .
I a111 sure l
c11joyell it as mneh as, if 11ot more tlia11, the tlry part
of our journey .

SPECLMEN TIIEl\JE 9
THE SALZKAl\ll\JERGlTT

The sight that greeted us that July morning- was
very pleasant.
Looking from our window l couhl
see the sui1 with-llJl its rays clearing the mist that
liullg over the hills. Overhead was the clear, blue
sky, with a white, fle ecy cloud rapiclly scudding
over it. The fresh, Lracillg air, tlie cheerful sun, the
sweet-smelling grass h eavy 'vi th dew, (all the splendour.s of the mon_iing) tended to make eve ryoirn in
our party feel happy. Even the bird singing on the
tree, and the curly-headed shepherd boy slowly
<lri ving alona- his flocks seemed to be suffused with
0
'
the warmth and brightness of the sun on that day.
As we stepper1 into our carriage and drove to the
·
salt-mines we passed many fields with the fresh mown

I

R.
R.

Trite.

Too nwch.

p.
p.

??

Q1lile a

trick!

p.

hay in large stacks, and in tlie gentle breeze the Trite.
pleasant ollor drifted upwanls. The farmers drove
past 011 their large, rumbling wagons Lound for the
market, which was already filled with a mass of Pt. of view
f I .
lost.
.
.
ven ders c11spos111g o t 1e1r wares.
At last we arrived at the mines aml we soon had p.
slipped on the rubLer s uits and caps th ey provide
for you there, each with a lantern in his rnnd ready ?
for the fray. A funny looking set we were. The Ir.
ladies with large bloomers and bulky coats and thel P·
Vb.
gentlemen lookiug just as awkward.

I

101

102
Do not
"pair n.f/'"
yo11r adjectives.

R.

71.

FRESJIMAN ENGLISII

TllE SALZKAMMERGUT

The gnillc 11ow l ecl Llw way into a. llarrow, clark
tt11111el. vVe walked a lo1Jg <lisLa11cc lllltil we ca111c
to a large o)wn space. Tlw air was biting a1Hl cold,
the atmosphere was damp atHl heavy, and not a ray
of light penetrated into the darkness xcept that
which came from our fli ckering lantern::;, bnt tl1e
excite111e11t and interest llruvc away all celing of
dnmlm ess, d epression, and cold. T e walls of this
large vault were white and
okell like crystal.

into a boat and were row·ed across. This lake is 100
feet long and three feet deep. It is of pure salt
water whicl~ comes from the mine. vV e next came
to another "Rutschbahn."
Descending this, we
r eached the place where the mine had been wcirked,
f()r tl1n stn11cs am strcw11 about aud huge piles of
rock nearly cov;;- the place. In one corner stands
a large square object made completely of salt from
the mine, and bearing the inscription "Gliick Ai:'if,"
the miners' expression for "Good Luck."
Now another tunnel opened before ns and we were
on our way Lack. But w·e were to return in a
quicker way. Soon a little car appeared, having- a
b ench in the middle, on \Vhich we all seated ourselves.
Then we were pushed off, and since there was a down
grade we w ent v ery fast.
Before we knew it we
had shot out of the tunnel into daylight again.. I
felt dazed and absolutly hot compared with my
sensations in th e tunnel. vVe then had our pictures
take11 in our miner 's costumes and started homewards.
'Ve had seen much and whenever I look at our
pictures of this trip I thiuk of the magnitude of
Nature's wonders and charms.

I

I

x

Th is, 1' was rock salt~ the guid e told us that thisWlt~~ the s:tl-t in the furn1 in which tl1e miners found it.
At the end of the nwlt was a thing they call a
"Hutschbahn."
Tl1is is simply a log, carefully
planed aml put 011 an incline at an angle of 45°. It
has ropes for people to hold 011 I\ if necessary. The
gui cle seats himself at tl1e heatl a11d tlie party follows.
Then tliey are push ell off and slide down the pole.
I will neve r forg et the se11atio11 of this ma<l ride.
Tl~1 e locity is increase d the 11 earer you get to the

Jl ·

bottom, a ml though tlie whole thing jonlyltakes a

R.

few seconds it seems I\ as if it lastet:l an hour . There
we were slilling down a frail, thin piece of wuocl iuto

/J .

I\

G. S11.

to

Tri I.e.

v.
p.
tens ~?

a bott.oml es~ de1:th . .l\ly wh~l~ past life shot through
my m1ml with hght11111g rnp1d1ty .
At the bottom of this "infernal rnachine" we came

I

to a large salt lak e; th e sicles of wl1ich are de co ratetl 1
with innuu1erable lanterns. Th e air tastes salty down
there, awl everythin g ~ soaking wet. 'Ve stepped

103

I NS TRUCTOR ' S COMMlrnT: -

Yott give one or two fairly good descripti ve touch es , but not enough
in proportion to the clwnces y on had . The sentences, though still weak,
ttl'e sliyhtly b ~ tter.
Your pwtctuation is, however, entirely inadequate,
and yow· phrasing tends lo be redundant.
R ewrite.

x
'11
p.

tf!rm.

v.
p.

x

R.

Sp.

R.

I

p.

p.

Insincere
in tone?

Tll E SALZKAM.MERGUT

SPECll\IEN TIIEi\IE D.

Tu 1~

105

space. The air was biting aud cold, the atmosphere
was damp, and not a ray of lig ht penetrated the darkness except that which came from our fli ckering lant erns; nev erth eless the exc itement amt interest drove
away all feeling of depression aml cold. The walls
of this large vault were white and look ed like crystal. The guille tolll us that this was rock salt in the
form in which the miners found it.
At the end of the vault was a thin g they call a
"Rutchbahn." This is simply a log carefully planed
aml put on an in clin e at an angle of 45°. It has
ropes for p eop le to hold on to if necessary. The
guide seats himself at the head, and the party follows.
Th en they are push ed off and slide down the pole.
I shall never forget the sensation of this mad ride.
The velocity is increased the nearer one ge ts to the
bottom, and though the whole thing takes only a few
seconds, it seemed to last an hour. Th ere we were
sli<ling down a frail piece of wood into a bottomless
d epth.
At the Lotto m of this in fe rnal machin e we came to
a large, salt lak e, the sicles of which were surroumled
with innumerable lanterns. The air tastes salty down
th ere, and everytliing is soaking wet. \Ve stepped
inlo a Loat aml were rowed across. This lake is one
humlred feet long aml three feet deep. It is of pure
salt water which comes fr om the miu e. \Ve next
came to another "Hutchbalrn." Descending this, we
reach ed the place where the mine had Leen worked,

REWRITTEN VERSION

SALZKAi\11'!1~1tu UT

Looking from our wimlow, that July mol'lli11g, I
could see the sun eleariug the mist that hun g over
th e hills. Overheall was th e clear, blue sky with a
white cloud rapidly scmkling over it. Th e fr esh,
bracing air, the chee rful sun, the sweet-sm elling
grass heavy with de w te nd ed to make everyone in
om party feel happy. Even the binl singi11g 011 tlie
tree, aml th e curl y -h eadell sheph erd boy slowly
dri vinO'
alo1w
his ti oclrn, see med to be affected Li\·
the
n
b
·
Lrightn ess of the su n 011 t hat day .
After stepping into our caniage 're llrove to the
salt-mines, aJHl on tlie way we passed man y fi elds
with lite fr esh mown liay in large stacks, a1ul in t he
breeze the pl easant otlor driftell upwanls. At last
we arrivell at the mines, and we soon had slipped on
the rubber suits anrl caps tliey provide. A funny
looking set we were. Th e ladi es wure respl enll ent
in large bloomers a11d IJ11lk y coats, a11<l th e ge 11tle111 en
look ell just as awkward.
Th e g nirl e ·now led tlie way iut.i a narrnw tunnel.
\Ve walked a lon g distance m1til \\' e came to a large
10,I

I.

106

FRE8 11MAN E NG LJ S IT

for the stones were strewn about and huge piles of
rock nearly cover ed the place. 111 one corner stood
a large square block made completely of salt fr om the
miue, and bearing t he inscription, '' G 1iick A ttf, " tlie
miners' expression for " Good Luck. " Now another
tunn el opened befor e u:s, and we were Oil our way
back. But we were to return with more speed.
Soon a, little car appeared, with a Le11d1 in th e middl e, on which we all seatell ourselv es. Before We
knew it we had shot out of the tunn el into daylight
agam. I felt dazed anll al>solutcl y hot comparc<l to
my sensations in the tunnel. \\Te then had our pictures taken in our miners' costume, and sta rted
homewards.

SPECIMEN THEME 10

· A Mo1rnrnG IN 'l'ARitYTOWN HA1rno1i

"Get up, old man ! it's four o'clock," was shouted
into my ear, and as I slowly opened my eye
saw
our captain's fa ce bending over me. At nst I was
half-dazed, and did not comprehend · ie meaning of
his words. Suddenly, like a flasl and by the aid of
another· poke in my ribs, I r alized that it was my
watch, and scurried out t relieve the captain.
After a few whis ,red instructions the captain
retired to th e cabin and left me to keep the lookout.
it was

Although /\ August, the
d

fa1il 'vas of thltt damp, chilly
me

JJ.

This
puzzles
one.

A

tr.

R.

kind \vhieh penetrates one through and through. Condense,
and make
A dense fog had settled all round us, and I could it perLlistingnish only those objec ts imi1rndiately near the sonal.
boat.
It was desolately lon ely and quiet; scarcely a I{.
breeze stirred. In fact, the air was literally saturated I{.
wi t h a fishy sm ell which made the atmosphere almost
stifling. Occasionally I heard the mournful how 1 of a
dog, which was rendered all the more woeful and great- p.
ly ·magnified by the heavy atmosphere. And now,
womlers of all wonders! The captain was snoring.
107

]J.

Sp.

p.

Use?
1·.

R.
p.

Coherence.

109

FRES!DlAN F:NGL/811

A MORNING IN TARllYTOJVN IIARBOR

It was 110 co111rnoll snoring, ciLher. Ile had a peculiar way of whistling whenever he exhaled, and at
each exliilalion the tone was of a little l1igher pitch
than the previous 011e - a sort of "music of the
spheres-''
.Just as I was thinking of spheres ;i largo fiery
orb peep3d up on the horizon. It grew larger arnl
~~trger, and rose so quickly that it seemed as if I
coul<l sec it move. The mist Legall lo scatter Lefore
its warning rays as if Ly magic. Now the curtain of
fog rnise<l a111l rnv<~ak<l to me Llio h<·~ auLifnl valleys
of Sleepy llollow, with its fields of ripening grain.
The heavy dew on the grain shone aml glistened like
tlin.mornh;. From :t cottage near the shore rose small
curls of grny smoke which wafted a.way into oblivion,
n.ml there were signs of life alld activity near by.
'\Then I saw th ese men stirring about, I conclucle<l
it must be 11 early breakfast time, aml th erefore proceeclell to call the crew. After inuch yawning, and
some "cussing," the other "Three men in a Loat"
came out Oil deck, n.11<1 helped in the preparations for
·'0
bren.kfast. Our larcler was 11 well fill ed with canned
men.ts and preserves, cookies, bread, and, in fact, all
the necessary fooll supplies, ee- that it was not much
work to prepare a meal. F'or breakfast, however,
we always made coffee, and now 011r troubles began.
By some unknown accicle11t the coffee-pot had fallen
overboard the clay before, and no doubt was now

being us d by the mermaids. But the genius of four
:Y..~tnkee : •oys was equal to the occasion. 'Ve determined to have peaches for breakfast and use the
empty can for a coffee-pot. Never was coffee more
d eli ciom;.
vVhile we were eating, a glorious breeze sprang
up, an cl, moreover, it was down the river. The tide,
also, was going out. Now for a sail ! The waves
<lauced round the boat ; white-caps were seen on all
sides of us. Our nerves tingled with delight as we
huniecl about to make rea<ly for the start. Hurrah!
we're off! The sails catch the breeze, n.ml the small
craft bounds over the waves as if she too~ glad
to be released from her moorings.

108

INSTRUCTOR'S COMMENT : -

Thi.•, os compared with your seventh theme, shows a gain . You
w1derstcuul better, apparently, th e descriptive method. And y et,
although pleasant and i·eadable, this sketch is by no means as vividly
distin ct as 71011 our1ht to m ak e it . Rewrite, with a special e.(j'ort to be
more graph'ic, to suygest pictui·es more s.1wrp!y.

Cap.

Weak.

Tense?

A .MOUNING .IN TAR1ll70WN JI.ARBOR

SPECl.i\lEN TllEl\lE 10.

A l\lo1rnL1'G

HEWIUTTEN YEHSION

I N 'l'Aru:YTO\\' N

llA 1rnrnt

"G et up, old rnan ! iL's four u'elock," was spoken
so close to my ear as to 111ake it seem a:-; tl1ougli so111e
one hall sl1011Led into it, antl as I slowly opened 111y
eyes, I saw onr captain\.; face l>emli11g over me. At
f-irst 1 was lialf-Lla.zed, a1al did not co111prel1 e1ul tl1 e
meaning of his " ·onls. Slllhle11ly, like a fi:rnli , and
by the aid of another poke in my ribs, I rea lized
tha.t it was my 'vatcl1, aml sc unied out to re lie\'e
the captain.
After a few whispered instructions t.h e capLai11
retired to the cabin, and left me to keep Ll1 e lookout.
Although it. was August, il1 e rla111p cl1illy air }l l' IH ~­
tratecl m e thrnugh nrnl tl1rougl1. A dense fog l1:l(l
settlecl all round us, al1ll I co uld distinguish only
those ol>jects immediaLely 11 ea r t.h.e l>oa.t. 1t was very
lon ely an(l quiet; harLlly a breeze stirred. ln fact,
th e air was fillell with a fo;l1y smell wl1ieli n1:vle Ll1 c
atmosphere almost i:;Li fling. Occasiollally T l1 ca r<l
t11e mournful howl of a dog wltich 'vas remlernd all
tlie more woe ful a11d greatly 111ag11ifie1l by Ll1e h1·a''.Y
atmosphere. And now, wonclen; of all \vo nd e r::; !
110

''I

J'
>

f

I

"'

111

Th e captain was snoring. It was no common snoring, either. H e had a J_Jeculiar way of whistling
whenever he exhaled, ancl at each exhalation tlie
tone was of a little higher pitch than the prev~ous
one~ a sort of "music of the spheres."
.Just as I was tliiukiug of spheres a large, fi ery
orb pecµeLl up on the horizon. It grew larger aml
larger, and rnse so quickly that·it seemed as if I coukl
see it move. The mist Legan to scatter Lefore its
warning mys as if by magic. Now the curtain of
fog raised allll rev ealed Lo me the beautiful valleys
of Sleepy Hollow, with its fi elds of ripening grain.
The heavy d e w on the grain shone. and glistenecl in
the momin g sun. Frnm a cottage n ear the shore
r ose small curls of gray srnoke which were waftell
away into oblivion, and there were signs of life and
activity near by.
At tlie sight of this activity I conchtlled that it
must be nearly breakfast time, and called the crew.
After much yu w11ing, anll . ,some "cussing," the other
''Three m en in a boat" came out on d eck, ancl helped
in the preparations for breakfast. Our larder was so
well filled with canned meats anll preserves, cookies,
breall, and iu fact, all tlie necessary food supµlies,
that it was n ot much work to prepare a meal. For
breakfast, however, we al ways made coffee, and now
our troubles began. By some unknown accident the
coffee-pot had f~llen overhoard the day before, and
no doubt was now being used by the mermaids. But

Flf E 8 1l jlfAN ENGL1811

the genius of four Yaukee Lo.rs was equal to lit e uceasion. \Ve dctenuiuell to hav e peaeltm; for Lrcakfast
and use the empty can for a coffee-put. Never was
coffee more d eli1.;ious.
\Vhile we \Vere cati11g, a glorious Lreeze spran g up,
aml , mureo\'er, it wns down the river. Tl1 c tid e, al:-;o,
wm; goillg out. Now for ~L sail! Tl1 e wav e:-; daJ1 1.;cd
roulld the l>oat; wliite-caps were 011111ipreseJ1t. Our
nerv es tingled with delight as we 1mrrie<l aLout to
mak e ready for t11e start. H urrali t. we ' r e off''
-- ! Tl
- 1e
::mils caugh t the Lreeze, allll tlte snmll crnft Lonmle!l
over th e waves as if she too were glad to Le releasell
from h er rnooriugs.

SPECIMEN THEME 11
THE J\IoNASTEii Y OI!, SAINT VINCENT

cool,

'!
: I

l'

As I emerge<l from the/\ dense woods, through
which the road to the Monastery of Saint Vincent
led me, the burning rays of a rni<lsummer sun fell unmercifully upon me (, in nrnrked contrast with the
ddightful coolness which I had just left bel1in<l.)
Before me rose a long, steep hill, Leyond which,.
ontlined against the clear, Llue sky, tho spires of the
mo1~a.stery chapel were I .inst vis ibl e. Pausing' occasio11ally to wipe the perspiration from my brnw, I
slowly asce nded the l1ill. A stone's throw from the
top I saw the high, gray wall which enclosed the
Benedi ctine estate. Th e road turn ed sharply to
tl1 e right, and ran along past the huge iron gates.
l co uld ll ot help thinking-, as I entered, how many
men, wearied Ly tlie cares and vexations of the world,
Imel passe<l through those gates into a life which they
could henceforth never leave.

R . & co nve11liu 11ul

See ubom
Con trnlli·
tory.
?

Why neec
you have
tried to
help it?

although

The monastery buildings, /\ we-Fe clustered on the
top of a low hill;, l+tt--t were surrouncle<l by so many
tl'ees that I could 011 ly see parts of them. I fol- tr.

I

I

113

I

114

1'1·ite.

Ease?

Rase?
l s this

?

pru/Ja/Jle.

R.

/\

TIIE NONASTEHY OF SAINT . VINUENT

FUESllNAN EKGL!Sll

lowed a '~imling path, lined on Loth Bides with rows
of tall hun;e-eliestnuL trees, whiel1 affonled me welcollle relief from the l1 eaL of the sun. SULl<..le11ly tl1e
tolling of a Lell Lroke upon the J eatl1-like st.illness
of the air. A few rni11utrn.,; aftcnvards I heard au
inclistiuct hu111rni11g, which gradually becalllc so elear
that I was aule to r ecog nize tlie voices of me11 chanting.
Thrnug!1 tlie trees at the left I saw, wiLl1in
a white pieket-fe1we, the plain, gray crosses of the
mo11aste ry cemetery.
A prueession uf monks was
just euteri11g Llie ee1ucLery. At Ll1cir liead [our of
the brothers ca rried a Llack, wooden collin. I Sa\v at
once the m ea11i11g of the tolling of the bell aml the
chanting of the priests. The uier, with its followi11g
of black-gowned rnonks, fon11ecl too g-loo111 y arnl
mo11rnful a pieture for 111e Lo look at; sol quiekened
my steps, aml soon lrn.Ll the satisfaction of seei ng tlie
crnrnbling bri ck walls of the prin cipal building- a
few steps in front of me. It was a large, 0Llo11gshnped strncture, tl1ree stories hig h.
vVitliin that
buihling, as l afte rwards found out, were rec itation
aml livi11g;roo111s for about a hnmlred stuLlent.s of
the Saint Vincent's Co llege Preparato ry School, a11cl,
also for some fifty or lllore ca11clidates for t.lie pri esLhoocl, ancl, i11 :t(klit.io11, rooms for over four lnmtlreLl
lay-urothers and forty priests of the OrLler of Saint
Benetlict.
I ascemled a flight of sto11e steps, ancl entered the
office, wh ere l asked a 1110nk if l rnight see a certaiu

115

I

;1

'I

'I

friend who was a student in the school. · The monk
took me to a reception room, departed with my card,
.
.
.
.
Gunsts.?
a11c l , 111 a few mmutes my fneml appeared. After
a t-iliort chat, my friend took me around the estate.
We first visited the chapel, which stood at the
rigl1t of the main building, an<l was much larger than
I had at first supposed. .My friend informed me
that the building of the chapel was the exclusive · Mea ns?
work of the brothers. Even the bric~,......with whie.h- R .
·it Wlts constructed, was the product of the monastery
briek-kiln. Though, at 'tlutt time, the chapel was R.
still unfinished, it was, however, an imposing struc- Not
ture. Four spires were in process of erection, and properly
·
liung. Otherwise
·
reluted.
111ass1· ve, b ronze <l oors were b emg
the exterior work was complete.
In strange contrast with this beautiful building,
was the commonplace, ivy-covered gymnasium build- ·
iug, which stood a short distance back of it. To the
left of this, stood the picturesque old chapel, in Wk. &
. which several generations.. , of priests had celebrated trite.
mass.
The belfry of this chapel contained the
monastery hell.
i\Iy frieml next conducted me to a slightly elevated
piece of ground behiml the gymnasium building,
from which I got a full view of the farm. This .farm
l1as the reputation of being the largest and finest
piece of private property in Pennsylvania . . Before
me lay acres and acres of fast ripening corn, wheat,
barley, potatoes, and other farm produce.
Many

. I

116

H.

#

monks were working in tl1csc fields.
J\lo11g Urn
La11ks of a s111all sLrc:u11, whid1 zigzagcd tl1rough a
sunny meadow, a large herd of cows could Le seen

graz111g.
I saw near Ly a Lrown wooden lmilcli11g, which my
friend informed rnc was tliu lllill wl1erc Ll1e monks
ground their grain. Farther to the left, witl1iu a
small brick buikling, from the chimney of which
a dense cloucl of s1{10ke was issuing, a dozen LroLhe rs
were brewing the famous Saint Vincent's Leer, wl1ich
is known all over the world. Near this lmillli ng I
saw the ice-houses and :t large pond.
The whole
expanse of land formed 011e great valley, Lorn1cled,
far in the clistauce, Ly a continuous ritlg-e uf ltill8,
which was sunnou11teLl by the rn nastery walls. As
I gazed upon that~ I tl1ou it I hacl n eve r seen
anythiug like it Lefo re. I
10ukl ltav e willingly
looked longer upon it, but it was growing late, and
the time of my Lleparture w, · fast approaching.
l\Iy friend ancl I now w,tlkecl around to the left
sicle of the main Luihli1 0 • On slowly d esce mling
ground the monks had la.· cl out beautiful flowe.r~becls,
which were one co11tin1 ous extent of reel, pink, Llu e,
aml white -ee4t¥s-. A large orchard almost fill eLl tl1e
valley below. J\ t tl1e edge of tltis orcltanl was a
ltcn11cry, from wl1icd1 olLl liens, wiLl1 their broo<ls of
young chieke11s, went clucking and scratchiug for
worms among the flowers aml fu-ouml the foot of
fruit trees. I had but a few 111inutcs Lo c11joy this
k,

H.

Abrupt.

TllE MONASTERY OF SAINT VINCENT

FR E8IIJ.JAN E 1YGLISII

view.

'''

117

Fimli11g out from my time-table that the next t.rain
for Pittsliurg would leave .Beatty Station in half an
hour, I took a reluctant leave of my friend, who
directecl me to a shorter road to the station than the
one by which I had come, and was soon on my way Gsts.?
baelc Lo tlie "Smoky Cily."
During the course of the afternoon, my friend had
given me much information about the history of the
monastery and other interesting facts. He told me
that the monastery was the general headquarters of
the Benedictine Onlcr of m~nks in America. If a
church of that order needed a priest, the Abbot of
Saint Vincent's sent one. During the early part of
the eighteenth century, an abbot and two lay-brothers
of the order had come to America, Ly direction of
the pope, and had found the monastery in what was Sp.
then an unhabited section .of Pennsylvania. Since Sp.
that time, th~ American branch of the Order of
Saint Benedict has rapidly grown in wealth and
prosperity, until it has become one of the leading
orders of priests in this country.
lNSTRUCT01t's CoMME.NT: -

Th ~ chief fault with this description is the prevalence of "I."
Instead of saying" I saw,"" I {la .zed at," and the like, put befqre us
the objects themselves, animated by the right verbs. Your sentences
are (oo much alike.
Rewrite in a less inert form.

TIIE NONASTERY OF SAINT fTINCENT

SPECll\lEN TllEl\lE 11.

THE:

MoNMi'L'El{Y

B,EWIUTTEN VEW::>ION

oF

SAINT

V1NcENT

As I ernerge<l fru111 tlte cool, dense wooLls, through
which the road to the monastery of Saint Vincent
led me, the Lurning rays of a mitlsu111111ur s11n foll
unm ercifully upon me. Before me rose a lon g steep
hill, Leyoml which, outlined agaiHst the clear, Llue
sky, the spires of the monastery chapel were visiLle.
Pausing occasionally to mop my forehe:ul, I slowly
ascended the hill. A sto ne's throw from the top I
saw the high, gray wall which enclosed the BeneLli ctine estate. The road turned sharply to the right,
and ran along past the huge iron gates. As I enterecl,
I thought involuntarily how many men, wearied Ly
the cares and vexations of the world, had passed
through those gates into a life which they could
hencefo rth never leave.
The
monastery
.
. Luildings, although clustered on
the top of a low hill, were surroumlecl by so many
trees that I co11l<l sec on ly parts of tl1em. I followc<l
a winding path, lin ecl on Loth siLles with rows of tall
horse-chestnut trees, which affonled me welcom e relief from the l1 eat of tl1 e :->1111.
118

119

I soon had the satisfaction of seeing the old brick
walls of the principal building a few steps in front
of me. It was a, large, oLlong structure, three stories
high. ·within that building, as I afterwards found
out, were r eci tati011 and 1iving-rooms for a Lout a
hundred students of the Saint Vincent's College ~re­
paratory School, some fifty or more candidates for
the priesthood, and over four hundred lay~brothers,
aud forty priests of the Order of Saint Beneclict.
I ascended a flight of stone steps, and entered the
office, where I asked a monk if I might see cer_tain
friend, a stmlent in the school. The monk took me
to a reception room and departed with my card. In
a few minutes my friencl appeared. After a short
chat, my friend took me round the estate.
. vY e first visited the chapel, which stands at. the
right of the main building, a1~d prov ed to be much
larger than I hau at first supposed. Though, with
four spires in process of erection, ancl massive bronze
cloors being hung, it was -as yet unfinished, it was
:t very imposing . structure. The buikling had been
erected exclusively by the brothers. Even the brick
was the product of the monastery brick-kiln.
In strange contrast with this beautiful structure
was the commonplace, ivy-covered gymnasium building, a sltort distance back of it. In t he old chapel,
to the left of this, several generations of priests had
celebrated mass. In the Lielfry hung the monastery
bell.

a

:'r M'&O

120

121

FRESIIMAN ENGLTST!

TllE 1lWNASTERY OF SAINT VINCENT

My friend next collllucteLl me to a slightly elevated
piece of ground behind the gymnasium, from wl1ich
I got a full _view of the farm. This farm 'lrns tlte
reputation of being the largest and finest ;Jiece of
private property in l'enusy l vania. Defore me lay
acres and acres of fast ripe11ing corn, wheat, barley,
potatoes, and other farm produce. 1\tlany monks
were working in these fi ekls, A long tlte bau ks of
a small stream a large herLl of cows grazed quietly.
Near by stood the Lrow11 mi 11 where the monlrn
ground their grain. Farther to tl1e left, witl1ill a
small brick building, from the chimney of which a
dense cloud of smoke was issuing, a dozen broth ers
were brewing the famous Saint Vincent Leer, wl1ich
is known all over the world. Near this building
were the ice-houses and a large pond. Tl1e wl1ole
expanse of land formecl one great valley, Loullll ed,
far in the distance, Ly a continuous ridge of hills,
along the summits of whi ch ran the monastery walls.
1\ly friend and I now walked ro1111 Ll to the left of
the main building. On slowly descendi ng grouml
the monks had laid out beautiful flow er-beLls, ,,;J1i ch
were one mass of red, pink, Llu e, and 'vhite, A
large orchard almost fill ed the valley below. At
the edge of this orchard was a henn ery, from which
old hens, with their broo<lR of yonng cl1i ckc11s, went
clucking aml scrntcl1i11g for wo1·1us among the flowers
and round th e foot of fruit trees.
Fimling out from my time-table that the n ex~ trnill

for Pittsburg would leave Beatty Station in half an
hour, I took a reluctant leave of my friend, who .
directed me to a shorter road to the station than the
one by which I had come. I was . soon on my way
back to the" Smoky City."

-- - - -,r--- -

!
I

l
.l

1
!,

~PEC1.i\lEN

A

--

/l.

/(. R.

Uramm a r.

](,

of this?

Lum

--

that sehuol iwul e 011 me.
Early one l\luullay rnorni11 g I Look my seat or
rath er bench with t l1 e rest of the seholars, and listened to a rat.It e l' stern lectm e from the teaeher aLout

Riyht
worcl?

not make
ascnt.ence
lntter

BLT (JF HEAL FARH

Not far from a large nrnn11faduri11g city of New
lla111ptd1ire, Lunleri11g· 011 Ll1e ~ l e rri111ac Hiver lies Lite
(1uai11t town of Be<ll'unl. Tl1is iow11, lik e all Ne w
Hampshire towi1 s, is llivided up iuLo Llislrid::;, eaeh
with its owu schoolliouse, usually placed 11 ear one of
the mai11 rumls. I was for t unate enough Lo hav e the
opportu11ity of attending one of these : d1ouls, durin g
the sprin g term. Never will l forg et t he impressiu11

/l.?

Can yoii

Tll Ei\lE l'..!

l

good \Jelm vior. Glan cing around the r oom, ·l behekl
some twenty Loys awl girls, varying in age from six
to sixteen yen l's. All were ha refooted, t he girls
.
wea n11g
Heat l'itt1e ['Toe 1rn <tilll ii 1e IJO)'S overa11 s.
One little g irl wore her hair in a ]mot at tlte top of
h er h ead, as t he day was very warm. Her sharp,
hom ely features gave her the appearance of a <lried
up, ol<l lady. Doubtless this poor little c reature was
obliged to wash the dishes, meml stockings, cook,
122

~·

A BIT OF REAL

FAR~!

LIFE

. 123

and help in the hay field, although she could not have
been more than twelve yea rs old. At the Close of
school for the day, her father came to take her home
in au ancient' ~on co rd wagon, which had never seen
wate r except tIB it fell fr om the sky. The horse suffel'ed fr om a similar neglect, but looked \vell fed.
l{nug hly dressed, and extremely uncouth in appear..:
aJJ ee, the father showed more tenderness in lifting
his tlitngliter into the wagon than many better edu eatell men would have shown. Slowly gatherii1g up JJ·
the r ei11s, the farm er drove Iioi'ne to a little red farmh ouse, with its numerous out-buildings.
The setting sun cast a reel glow of warmth about
t he ohl homestead, making the holly-hocks in the
front ganl eu look more brilliant than usual. In the
Larn-yanl, the hens were eagerly g ulping <lown their
evening meal. Down the lane from the pasture came This is a
t li e cows, their distended ~elders looking like toy rnther
eminine
balloons. How peaceful and contented they look ed fformula.
as they entered the "tie-up"; far ind ee<l are they Jl ·
from the maclLlening crowd's ignoble sway. From Quotalio n?
th e farm-house could be h eard the good wife singing Too
as she prepar ed the evening meal. As it g rew dusk, " literory ."
the whippoor-wills began their plaintive calls to one
another, like the angelus sounding the hour of rest.
Everywhere the h eavy, nig ht air seemed laden with
tl1 e smell of new mo\.vn hay. The moon came up,
HooLling th e fi elds with its sil very lig ht, transforming ·
ni ght into a fairy-lik e Llay. All was still save for

·- -

124

St~o·.

JI. ;

/).

p.

/{.

-·---..-..-~~....-:ttsl!tkf,;,

FUE8//JIAN liJNG LlSI/

the distant bark of a fox or the cackling of tlie lieus
disturbed by some prowling animal.
Many such a uight have I spent in tliat quaint, ohl
town of Beclford, unable to sl.eep from plll'e joy at
seeing nature thus in h er most beautiful phase. My
heart would almost burst with a fecliug of gladness,
and ofte n tean; woul cl Rpri11g into my eyes. The
thought of the weary, drwlging life that goes on
daily amid such beautiful st11Tou1Hli11gs is like a
pathetic song. Th e little school-girl a11d h e r fath e r
n ever fully realize the subli111it.y, the grandeur of
their home in Nature's favorite haunt.
INSTR UCTO!t's CoMMlrnT: -

Sp.
Gr( .

ma

Ri_q
11)0/1

J(. I

I

C:wl

not ,
a bl
Sf'///

oft

·An en couraqiny piece of work. Yo u r choice of dPtails is well
made , anclfor th e m ost part shows nn untlerstull.lling of th e desc riptive
m ethod . The pr1ssa.qe a/Jollt the farmer's wagon is a bit of -~ hrewd
observation, shrewdly er.presse d.
In sevcrnl pluces your phrasiny uppea rs rather old-fashioned.
R evise.

~-~ ·W:f'i ? '

