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COMPOSITION,
PREPARED FOR

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EMBRACING

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•l .SPECrMENS A~D MODELS OF SCHOOL AND COLLEGE EXERCISES,
''".'· - .. AND MOST OF THE HIGHER DEPARTMENTS OF ENGLISH
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DESIGNED AS A SEQUEL TO

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Bv RICHARD GREEN PARKER .
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"Dimidium facti, qui ccepit, habet."

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BOSTON:
c:

PUBLISHED BY ROBERT S. DAVIS .
NEW YORK : RonrnsoN, PRATT, & Co., AND COLLINS, BROTHER, & Co.
PHILADELPHIA: T n oMAs , CowPEllTHWAIT, & Co.
BALTIMORE : CUSHING & BROTHER.
And sold by t he trade generally.

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.~~tE~•1\~~~-re~d~a-c_c_o_rd~i-ng~t-o-A-:--ct~of-:-C-o-ng-r-e1s F,•i•n~t~he;;:::;y=e=a=r=1=844
==,=b~y:=:=;;;.
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H ARD

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E E N

P_A_R_K_E~R-,-----~

in the Clerk}s O IIice of th e District Court of the District of Massachusetts .

-PREFACE.
PARKER'S EXERCISES IN ENGLISH COMPOSITION.
By
R. G. Parker, A. M., Principal of the Johnson Grammar School,
Boston. Fortieth Stereotype Edition.
PROGRESSIVE

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EXERCISES

IN

ENGLISH

CO!IIPOSITION.

IJ::J' The re putation of this little Manual is now so we ll established aR to
render it unnecessa ry to prese nt many of th e numerous tes timonials in its
favor, from teac hers and others of the fi rst respec tability.
The School Committee of' Boston authori ze d its introduction into th e
PulJlic Schools of the city, soon after th e first e dition was iss ued and it is
now the only work on Composi ti on used in them. It has also be e~ ad opted
as a te xt-book w a large nu mber of til e bes t sc hools and higher semi nari es
in vari?us s.ee ti ons of the United States, having be en highly commended
by all rntelh rre nt teachers who have used it.
To sh~w tl1e hi gh estim~te of the work in England, the fact may be stated1 that 1t has bee n re published and stereotyped in London, and nine large
editio ns hav e bee n sold there ; which, togethe r with its favorab le rece ption
throughout th e United States, furnish es sufficient evidence of its value.
Amon g the publi c notic es of the work in E ngl and, is the followi ng :
"The design of this work is unex cep t io nably good. By a series of progressive exercises, the sc holar is conducted fr om the formation of easy
sentences to the more difficult and complex arrangement of words and
ideas. He is, step by step, initiated in to th e rh eto ri cal propriety of the '
l anguage, and furnished with direc tions an d models for analyzing, classifyin g, and writing down his thoughts in a di stinct and compreh e nsive manner." - London Journal of Education.
From J . HJ: Bulkley, Esq., P rincipal of an Academy, Albany.
I have examined" Parke r's Exercises in Composit ion ," and am deli ghted
with the work; I have ofte n fe lt the want of just th at kind of aid that is
h e re affo rd ed; the use of' thi s book wi ll dimini sh the labor of the teach er , and
greatl y faci li ta te the progress of th e pu pil, in a study that has hitherto been
attended w ith many tri als to the teac he r, and perpl ex ities to the learn er.
If .Mr. Parke r has not strewed the path of the stude nt wi th flow ers, he
has" removed many st umbling-blocks ou t of the way, made crooked things
straight, and rough places smooth." It is certainl y one of the happiest
efforts that I have ever seen in this de partme nt of l e tte rs, - affo rdin g to
th e stud en t a beautiful introduction to th e most irnporta.nt princ irl es and
rul es of rh etoric; and I would add , th at, if ca re fhlly studi ed, it will afford
a " sure gu.icle" to writte n composition. I shall use my influence to sec ure
its introd uction to all our schools.
PUBLISHED BY ROBER T

S. DAVIS, BOSTON,

AND FOR SALE DY ALL THE PRIN CIP AL DOOKSE LLERS IN THE UNITED
STATES.

C A III B R I D G E :
~IETCALF

1 KEITH, AND N ICHOLS, PRINTERS TO THE UNIVERSITY.

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· r. IT: would be presumptuous in any author to at; tempt to give rules, or to lay down laws, to which
·1all ' the · departments of English Composition should
•· . :be,, subjected. Genius cannot be fettered, and an
,, . · ·~ original: and thinking mind, replete with its own
~:i:Ub~rance, w~ll often burst out in spontaneous gush•• ing~~ .and open to itself new channels, through which
· the ~tieasures of thought will flow in rich and rapid
currents. ,.,~ Rul~~ and suggestions, however, are not
wholly:useless. They encourage the diffident, and
• · · give .c.onfidence to those whose want of conversance
,.,. With· approved models renders it necessary for them
,.-, to rely on foreign aid. In the 'Volume to- which this
·oook)s.designed as a sequel,,the author hai; attempted
t · render · assistance in the removal of the two obstaqles_whiph beset th~ . youthfui' writer in . h1s first
attempts at. qomposition, to wit, the difficulty of ob- .
taining -ideas, or learning to · think, and that of expressing · them properly when obtained. · There are
those ho . ·profess to have been benefited by · the
.·assistance therein afforded. In this volume, he has
endeavoured ·to enlarge his plan and extend the prin' · '":-· ·ciples, so as to embrace a wider range in the exten,':/. sive ·field before him~ He candidly confesses that
· he :is ·not satisfied with his own labors. He would
have been better contented to see the task completed
, by_abler hands. But as the plan, which he thinks is
original, is new, and has been found useful, he has
' been : ~ncouraged to extend it, in the hope that it
will ·pr.ove;,.beneficial, especially to those who have
_ .neither '.the leisure nor the inclination to seek in the
: . '.' .wide' fields of literature for other and de eper sources
1
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If the water in the bucket drawn

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PREFACE.

from the well has not the coolness and raciness of
the fountain, or the spring, it will quench the thirst :
and cool the brow of the toiler, in his laborious :
ascent of the hill of science.
To no task does the student apply himself with ·
greater reluctance than to that of Composition. Of
the two obstacles in his way to which reference has
already been made, that of_ obtaining ideas is witho·ut· doubt the greater. 'The assistance proposed to
be afforded in surmounting this obstacle is founded
on the principle of association called by some writers
the Law of Suggestion. Every one, who has the 1.
slightest acquaintance with the philosophy of the
human mind, is aware that every word or idea presented to the mind immediately becomes associated
with some other word or idea. These words or
ideas are connected with others, and thus form what
is called in common language a train of thought. It
is upon this principle of association that those lessons
which are expressly designed to lead the student t~
think, and thus to furnish him with ideas, are founded.*
With regard to the manner in which this volume
is to be used, the author has only to say that he has
not aimed at giving a regular and systematic course
of instruction. Few teachers would probably follow
any path that might be _pointed out. It has not
been his aim to present in this volume a progressive
course. Leaving to the judgment of those who
may use the book the task of selecting such exercises as may in their qpinion best promote the intellec.tu.al advancement of those whose minds they are
tra1111ng, he respectfully submits the volume in the
hope that it may prove a useful auxiliary in the difficult but highly useful task of Composition ..
Orange Street, January 1st, 1844.
" The. illustration of th e -appli cation of this principle, together with an
~xplanat10n. of some oth~r fea tures co mm_on to both volumes, will be found
11:1 .a note by th e author in the " Progress1ve Exercises in English Compos1t1on," page 104.

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INTRODUCTION.
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is the art of forming ideas, and exp~~ssing them in language. Its mos~ obvio.us divis.. ~on.s, · with respect to the nature of it.s · sn?Jects, are
; the Narrative, the Descriptive, the Didactic, the ~a­
' )~~~i.;,and the. Argumentative.. With regard. to its
., fo~II! ;·.or: style, 1t may be considered a~ concISe or
: C:liffuse, ·as nervous or feeble,. as dry, plain, neat, ele. ~ · g~nt;·~ or~· f!.~wery? as simJ:>le or ~~ected, as cold or
~Yehement .. ·' and its essential reqms1tes are clearness,
; . U:oity '.'" str~ngth ,~and harmony. As it is strictly a
t ment~l . effort, iis .foundation must be laid in a disci' · plin~d and ~ultivated i;nind, in' the exerc~se of vigor'_ous : thought, on readmg and observat1011, and an
.-attentive study of the meaning and the force of _.
' . language. : The proper preparation for its successful
/ performance should be laid in a diligent attention to ·
' .~ the ·rules· of grammar, a thorough knowledge of the
·• .J>rhiQiple.s·of:rheto~ic, and a s.uccessful .applicat~on of
·tb'e-;max1ms of logic ; for logic must direct us m the
> selection' of ideas, rhetoric must clothe them in a
·~· suitable dress, and grammar must adapt the dress to
· ~: the~ ·peculiar form of the idea. In the following
. :.: :pages an attempt is made gradually to intro~uce the
. ·. student to ihe several departments of English com,·-: position by examples and exercises, with such observations and illustrations as may appear to be neces. sary .for · an · intelligent · comprehension of _its rules
· and principles. The early lessons are, designed ex, pressly for beginners; but, in t~e c~u~se of the wor~,
c suggestions will be foun<l, which, it IS. ~hou.ght, will
be useful to those by ·whom compos1tlon is not regarded as a task.
· ··. · ·• OoMPOSITION

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Of the importance of attention to the subject of
composition thus much may be said; that there are
few individuals, in any station of life, to whom ease ,
and fluency in writing are not valuable acquisitions. ·
All who are engaged in professional or commercial
pursuits, and even the hardier sons of labor, whose ·
bread is procured by " the sweat of their brow," ·
must have correspondence to manage, or written ,
statements to furnish, requiring at once accuracy and ,
despatch; and therefore the facility which practice
alone can impart, in the arrangement of their thoughts ;
and a ready and correct expression of them, is an ,
attainment exceedingly desirable. In the language
of a late transatlantic writer, then, it may boldly be
asserted, that "No acquirement can equal that of '
composition in giving a power over the material of ,
thought, and an aptness in all matters of arrangement, of inquest, and of argumentation." "Writing,"
says Lord Bacon, "makes a correct man" ; and the
author of the Essay on Criticism asserts, that

INTRODUCTION.

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LESSON I.
below,

"True grace in writing com es fr om art, not chance,
As th ey move easiest wh o have learnt to dance."

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. MODEL.

"He that begins with the calf," says Mr. Locke,
"may carry the ox ; but he, that will go at first to
take the ox, may so disable himself as not to be able
to take the calf after that." On the same principle,
it is recommended that an attention to the subject
of composition should be commenced early in life.
Exercises of a simple character prepare the mind for
higher exertion; and readiness and facility in the
lower departments of writing enable the student to
apply himself without reluctance to those mightier
efforts by which the progress of intellectual culture
is most rapidly advanced.
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The inside, . ·
The- outside;
. The door,
The enlry,
The rooms,
The ceiling,
The walls,
The wainscot,
The stairs,
The fire-places, or grates,
The mantel,
The chimney,
The closets, ,
The parlours, or drawing rooms,
The kitchen,
The wash room,
The bathing room,
The inner doors,
The wood . shed.

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ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO
EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.

LESSON III.

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In a similar manner enumerate the parts of the following ·
objects :
A carriage.
A school-room.
A ship.
A watch.
A church.
A clock.
A tree.
A book.
A map.
A kite.
A horse.
A cow.
A sheep.
A goat.
A cat.
A dog.
A landscape.
A picture.

PARTS, QUALITIES, PROPERTIES, USES,
.AND APPENDAGES.
MODEL.

quill,
shaft,
feather, ·

surfaces,
pith,
groove,
nib,
shoulders, inside, and
outside.
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elastic,
. yellowish,
· horny.
tough . .

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LESSON II.
OBJECTS, THEIR QUALITIES,

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"/'The shaft is opake,
angular,
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.:·i "';.. .a•! The pith is white,

MODEL.

It is hard,
inodorous,
insoluble,
solid,
colorless,
dry,
smooth,
heavy,
fusible,
bright,
uninflammable, thick, or thin,
transparent, durable,
long,
brittle,
stiff, .
short,
cold,
inflexible,
wide,
tasteless,
water-proof,
useful.
Uses. For windows, to admit light.
For spectacles, to assist sight.
For vessels of ornament and use.

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EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.

'In the same
lowing objects:
Wood.
Iron .
Lead.
Silver.
Gold.
A feather.
A pen.

manner enumerate the qualities of the folWater.
Leather.
Paper.
Sugar.
Salt.
Sponge.
A desk.

Wool.
Cotton.
"Vax.
Whalebone.
A horn.
Chalk.
A lamp.

Ivory.
A pin.
A chair.
A table.
A penknife.
A quill.
An inkstand.

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. spongy,

white,
stiff,
porous,
elastic,

hard,
· -grooved.
soft,
light.

· -Tpe ·use of the pen is to write down what we have

seen. read, or thought, and thereby to preserve what would
;, . p~ob~b}i.; BOC?ll b? lost, if in trusted to the _memory alone.
.What• 1s~once'. wntten can be read, or preserved for future
'mtormalion,' ' ind .' thereby we can · learn what ' our friends
who are-absent, and even those who are dead, have s~en or
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Enumerate the parts, qualities, and uses of the following
· objects :
A book.
A plate.
A ball.
, : A house •.
A barrel.
A kite.
- !: A tree. '
A lamp.
A dressing-case .
.- · A ·table.• p,l
A candlestick.
A sofa.
· ":A bureau: -~
Awork~box.
A chair.
~c The contents of
A saw.
A lock.
·;: · .a box. ·
A chisel.
A key.
\ ·' A secretary.
A plane.
A knife.
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(ron~ P,(the' house was a small flower·garden, and the bright
~itlips; all _in full bloom, presented a brilliant shbw. The

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LESS ON IV.

'rose-bushes were not yet in flower ; but the lily of the valJe1 w.as dropeing its modest head, while it perfumed the air
with its delicious fragrance. At the back of the house were
The object of this lesson is to teach the learner
. -a_nui:nber of ·fruit .trees, in full blossom, among which was
scribe, in easy sentences, any circumstances which
the 'peach tree ~ith its beautiful pink flowers. Some boys
to himself and others.
'wer_e seen clustering around a willow near the brook, busily
engaged . with ·their knives. One was cutting the small
MODEL.
leaves and. scions from a large branch, which he had just
' taken ·fl'.om the tree for a whip, while another was busily
. On returning home yesterday, I saw a man severely beat·~ngaged _ in 'making a whistle. As my brother approached
ing a horse. I stopped a moment to ascertain the cause "
and p~rceived _that one of the wheels of the wagon had sunk
t.h~ , hoµse, " ~he · boys, mistaking him for the owner, immedeep 111 the mue, and the poor animal was exerting all his • tiiatelj' ~cimipered away ; some hiding themselves among
strength to drag the heavy load, while the cruel driver was
Oii: ·uahes't while the more active leaped over the high stone
W I, to. escape being caught. It appeared that these boys
mercilessly beating the unfortunate creature because he
could not proceed.
were. ttuants '..'from a neighbouring school-house, and the
.l ittle togues -=were fearful, not only of being caught in tresEXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.
,.. passing upon private ground, but likewise lest they should
be ,carried into the presence of their master, to be corrected
. In a similar manner the learner may describe the follow,
ro~'playing
th~ truant.
ing events :
EVENTS.

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The meeting of a beggar in the street.
The overturn of a carriage.
The passing of a procession.
The sailing of a ship.
The catching of a fish.
The capture of a bird.
The raising of a kite.
A fire.
The raising of a building. '

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the follow~

pas,sengers in the

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LESSON V.
OBJECTS AND EVENTS.

The object of this lesson is to accustom the learner to '
combine the results of the preceding lessons.
MODEL.

As my brother was riding in the country, he saw a beau- _.
tiful, large homse, painted white, with green blinds. In the :

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LESSON VI.
SIMPLE DIALOGUE, OR CONVERSA'I'JON.
MODEL.

Dialogue between C!tarles and llcm·y.
Charles. ' Vhose <log is that, Ileury, which I saw in your
yard yesterday 1
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Ilcnry. He belongs to my uncle, who bought him, when ·
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he was very young, of a poor boy in the street. The boy
appeared very destitute, and uncle boug ht him rather out of
compassion for the boy, tha11 because he wanted the <log.
C!tarles. I s he good for any thing,-h as be bee n traine<l 7
IIenry. 0 yes; he is a very valuable animal. Uncle
would not sell him at any price. lie is an excellent waterdog, and knows more than many boys of his ow11 age. 1
The other morning he was sitting in a chair at the window
from which he had been accu stom ed to look at the boys, as
they were playing in the street, and, finding that he could
not see through the window, (')n account of the frost on the ·
glass, he applied his warm tongue to one of the pa11es, and,
licking the frost from the glass, att_empted to look out; but,
the spot which he had cleare<l berng only larg~ enough to .
admit one eye, he immediate ly made another, 111 the same
manner, for the other eye, by which he was enabled to
enjoy the sight as usual.
Charles. That was very remarkable. Ilut your uficle did
not teach him to <lo that.
Henry. No; that was rather an operation of instinct
than of trainincr. But he will carry bundl es, stan d on two
legs, find articles that are hid<len, fc~ch thi11gs from the
water, and is also well train e<l for hunt111g.
Charles. Ile is a water-dog, then, is he not 7
,
Ifenry. 0 yes. He is very fon<l of th e water him self,
but will not allow others to go into it. Uncle has a fine
situation at Nahant, on the water's ed ge, and many of his .
friend s go th ere to bathe. Ilut. uncle is oblige~ to tie up
Guido, the dog, when any one wishes to bathe; for the a111mal will not allow any one to go into the water, if he can
prevent it.
Charles. That is very selfish in him. ·what do you suppose is the reason that he is unwilling that others should

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enjoy:1 ~ i thin.g, of which, you say, he is himself so very_
fond:t:i:''i . -.h 1 '\·
~ · : Henry ; 0, he has a good reason for that, as well as for
ev·e ry thing else he does . . The reason is, that, one day, my
. .little ~ brother, George, was standing on a kind of wharf
. b~ilt ,o f stones near the bathing place, and, happening to
..· stoop over too · far to look at some eels, that were gli<ling
.through the water below, he lost his balance and fell in.
· !'fo~o<ly . was near but ·Guido, an<l he immediately jumped
mto · the water, and held George up by the collar till some
one came to his assi8tance. When the servant man John
came '. to help .George out of the water, Guido had ' nearly'
• . d.ragged bim to the ' shore ; but he found it rather hard
· .-? orkf.~ for fleorge is very fleshy, and, of course, quite heavy;
' .and f although Guido has a good opinion of himself, and
. doubts hot his ability to drag ,iJn y one else out of the water,
· yet he reasons very soundly, al}d thinks it much less trouble
- to prevent pe.ople from going into the water, than to drag
them out when they have got in.
i. .;Charles. No wonder that your uncle values liim · he is
. c.ertainlf a very valuable dog. ·
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which .would surprise you. The other day, George broucrht
,.,hof!le. a b.u ndle fro!JI , Miss Farrar's, for my sister Caroli~e,
'..~t~~.ch ,~:i · threw.do~n o!! a chair in the entry, and ~hen ran off
P!~ Caroln~e ~as m her chamber, and, hearing George
eo~~'_l n, . sp?ke to h1.!JI from her room, not knowing that he
'ha~ ~ g611"'•out/ 1 'and req4ested him to bring it up stairs.
. Gu1~0 was lyi?g on the rug by the fire in the parlour, and,
hearing Car?lin~ call for t~e bundle, immediately· jumped
up, and, taking the bundle m his mouth, carried it up stairs
and dropped it at Caroline's feet.
, " Char?es. I sho_uld be very, happy ~o have such a dog, but
. m~ther 1s so afraid ?f a dogs runnmg mad and biting us
children, that sh~ will not allow us to keep one.
·
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·.Henry, .~ather says, that there is no fear of a dog's runmng · mad, 1f he has a plenty of water. He says, that the
~eason that .we so seldom hear of a dog's running mad here
. m Boston 1s, ~ec~use water is plenty here, and dogs can
always get at 1t, 1f they have once found their way to the
Frog Pond on the Common.
·
· Charles. What is the name of that disease which people
have who are bitten by mad dogs 1
i.- :·, Henry. It is called hydrophobia, which is a Greek word,

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and means " fear of water." Dogs, when they are mad,
cannot bear the sight of water; they will not drink ; and
therefore, whenever a dog will drink, you may be sure that
he is not mad. When a person is bitten by a mad, or rabid
animal, he expresses the same dread of water, and henc
the disease is called, as I said, ltydropltobia.
Charles. I thank you, Henry, for giving me all this in
formation. I shall tell it all to mother, and, as I have often.
heard her say that your father is a very sensible man, per•
haps she may overcome her fear of hydrophobia, and allow
brother James and me to keep a dog.
EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.

'tdf'.npike(1rbad,<t.:

THE TUTOR AND HIS PUPILS.

Eyes and no Eyes; or, tlte Art

of S eeing.

"Well, Robert, where have you been walking this after·
noon 7 " said a tutor to one of his pupils, at the close of ~
holyday.
Robert. I have been to Broom-heath, and so round by
the windmill upon Camp-mount, and home through the
meadows by the river side.
1•
'l.'utor. Well, that is a pleasant round.
Robert. I thought it very dull, Sir; I scarcely met with

.

1 .

· ,

TutqiJ-;i.Why', if seeing men and horses was _your object,

.

)

.:You

wouldj '.:fodeed ,· ·have been better entertained on the
hifihl'rtiild. 1i But"did you see William 1 · ·
· Robert.· ~ We ~ set · out together, but he lagged behind in
thi~lahe,<-·so· l · walked <>n and left him.
fl'tltor,·. IT'hat ~as a pity. He would have been company

•.r.....,...,
•
..1·' . · -;.r •.•~ · •
\ JUl t-. J 0 U
• -::..: Y,1'
•
...
Robert<-Or he :is so tedious, always stopping to look at
1

r

this:thing ·and that! . I would rather walk alone. I dare say
h~1s ·n·ot got · ho~e yet.
.{l)ltor•. ·!{ere ·· he ·comes. Well, William, where have
JOU . been t~« ~. ii~l'i.· .• . ~· ·
..
William · 0, the ·pleas_antest walk I I went all over
Btoo~heath,· and eo ·up to the mill at the top of the hill, .
ah·d.. thenf dciwD":· among the green meadows by the side of
the~ river. >..~i"< .t· ·. · .
·
' : 'Tutor: ·Why; ~ that is ' just · the round Robert has been
. taking, . and · he ' complains of its dulness, and prefers the

In the same manner the learner may write a simple dia•
·:
logue about the following subjects :
A cat.
A school.
A kite.
A sled.
A book.
A fox.
An evening party. A bonnet.
A horse.
A sleigh-ride.
An excursion
A watch.
A dress.
A walk.
water.
A ride.
A pair of skates. A lesson.
"
A meeting-house. A tree
A new year's present;
The following dialogue between a Tutor and his Pupils
conveys so much instruction, that it is recommended to be
diligently read by the student, in order that he may learn to
use his eyes aright, and acquire the habit of careful obser•
'
vation. It is from the pen of Dr. Aikin.

.. ...

""-;..~~,.. ~

~; ~ ~r<· E.NGLISH COMPOSITION.
15
1ihg1 _ persoh. ll.~ .I .would much rather have gorie along the

AIDS TO

hig~road.1 ·•,·:·' •

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•

· · ..

.

Willian& • .I wonder at that.

I am sure I hardly took a
me, and I have brought home my
.. handkerchief· (ull of ct,triosities.
·
· ·"" TutM""l Suppose, 't hen, · you. give us · an . account of what
Ul~·fed.~ yo,~ ;~:mu~~~: . . I fancy it will be as new to Robert
to mt'.i "'" n . ~ ~ r 11 · .. ' .. . .
•
JViUiam.~ I will ' do it readily. The lane leading to the
· ·~eath;· you·: ltnow, is close· and sandy, so I did not mind it
..'much, ·but made the best of my way. However, I spied · a
. · curious · thing enough in the hedge. It was an old crab,. tree, out of which grew a great bunch of something green,
.' · quite different from the tree itself. Here is a 'branch of it.
'. Tutor. Ah I this is a mistletoe, a plant of great fame for ·
."· the use made of it by the Druids of old in their religious
: rites and incantations. It bears a very slimy white bPrry,
.,~ -or: which birdlime may be made, whence the Latin name,
. ·. Viscus.-· " It is .one of those plants which do not grow in the
.' 'ground by a root of their own, but fix themselves upon
·;other- plants; whence they have. been humorously styled
parasit~cal, as being hangers on, or dependents. It was the
· ~istletoe of the oak that the Druids particularly· honored.
·
· -~ William. A little farther on, I saw a green woodpecker
. fly' to a tree, and run up the trunk like a cat.
~

aWp tbat··did-not delight

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ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

. 17

. ~~k'~s: ~ · but this is thicker in . proportion, and of a
Tutor. That was to seek for, insects in the bark, on
which they live. They bore holes with their strong bills
ark~t oolor· than· they are,
.
'
2:'utoi. '. !if.rue: ' Vipers frequent those turfy, boggy gro~nds
for that purpose, and do much damage to the trees by it. ,
lVilliam. What beautiful birds they are !
'
~ttfmuch,.. and ·I have known several turf-cutters bitten
Tutor. Yes ; they have been called, from their color and:
1· them:~ ' .. -~
· .. ·
· .
size, the English parrot.
'William: ,They are very venomous, are they no~ 1
..,,..... · ~.L.toiC Enough · so to make thei~ wounds pamful and
William. When I got upon the open heath, how charm
ing it was! The air seemed so fresh, and the prospect on' . tiangerous ·though they seldom prove fatal.
.
every side so free arnl u11bou11ded ! Then it was all cov· William ; Well;--1 then took my course up to the ~m~­
mill . . oh 1the mount. · I .climbed up the steps of the mill, m
ered with gay flowers, many of which I had never observed
before. There were at lea8t three kinds of heath, (I have
6rder.to.get'a_-better view of the country round. What an
got them in my handkerchief here,) and gorse, and broom,
e'sted1Me·prospect I : I counted fifteen .ch1.1rch steeples ; ~nd
a1~d bell-flower, aud mauy others of all colors, of which I
lalw,:s~Yer.al·>gentlenien's hou.ses peepmg o_u t from the midst ·
will beg yon presently to tell me the names.
Q ~eµ . ~~odl •&11d 1. plantat10ns ; an~ I could ~ra~e the
Tntor. That I will, readily.
~[' ttte. riYer· a.I~ al~~1g . the low grounds, till it was
lliehiod a .ridge of hills; But I 'II tell yo_u what I mean
liVilliam. I saw, too, seve rnl birds that were new to me,'
There was a pretty grayish one, of the size of a lark, that'
• to dd, if "yoti ~will. : give, me leave. ·_' :· · : ·
. ·
Ja\ltor What is that 1 · , . . · . .
was hopping about some great stones; and when he flew,
he showed a great deal of white above his tail.
. - l William: :I will go again, and take, with me Cary's counTutor. That was a wheat-ear. They are reckoned very.
tr1- ~apr· by which ·I shall probably - be able to make out
delicious birds to eat, and frequent the open downs iu Sus-,
PJOSt of.the places. · · ·
.
. .
.
Tutor: You -shall ·have 1t, and I will ·go with you, and
ex, and some other counties, in great numl}ers.
llVilliam.. Th ere was a flock of lapwings upon a marshy.
take.. my'poC?ket spying-glass.
·
··
J}tillicunJ.I ·shall. be very glad of that. · Well, - a thought
part of the he11th, tlrnt amu sed me much. As I came near.
struck me~ that; ••as . ,the hill . is called Camp-mount, there
them, some of them kept flying round and round, just over.
' itglit,.~robably, be·sogie r,e mains of ditches -and mounds,
my head, and crying p1;wit so distinctly, one might almost :
wi,tltwhich lhnve read that camps were surrounded. ~nd
fancy they spoke. I thought I should have caught one of.·
I reall)j beli_eve I discovered something of that sort runnmg
them, for he flew as if one of his wings was broken, and
often tumbl ed close to the ground; but, as I came near, he
rou'nd..~rie 1 side· of the mou!lt.
· ·
·
, rf'utorA i Very likely. you might. I know antiquaries have
always contrived to get away.
deticribed ·such · remains as existing there, which some sup·
Tutor. I-la, ha l you were finely taken in, then! This
pbse to tbe.Roman; others Danish. We will examine them
was all an artifice of the bird's, to entice you away from its
nest ; for they build upon the bare ground, and their nests
'further when we go. -. '
William ·: From . the hill I went straight down to the
would easily be observed, did not they draw off the attention
:. .mead.o\vg below, and walked on the side of a brook that
of intruders, by their loud cries and counterfeit lameness.
'turisd nto ' the river: ' It was all bordered with reeds, and
William. I wish I had known that, for he led me a long
chase, often over shoes in water. However, it was the ;, ,fligs, i·and tall · flowering plants, quite di~erent from those I
bad ''seeo -:on the heath. As I was gettmg down the bank
cause of my falling in with an old man and a boy, who ·,
•to reacb-·oM ~f the~: I heard something plunge i_nto the
were cutting and piling up turf for fuel; and I had a good
witer·near me. · It. was 11 large. wat~r-rat, and I saw it swim
deal of talk with them, about the manner of preparing the
turf, and the price it sells at. They gave me, too, a crea-'. r over .to the other side, and go mto its hole. There were a
ture I never saw before, - a young viper, which they had , - ·.great'. many ·dragon-flies all a~out the ~tream. · I caught one
just killed, together with its dam. I have seen several com· i
of-the finest, and ' have got him here m ~ leaf. But how I
ldnged ; ~o catch a bird that I saw hovermg over the water,

10p

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18

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

1 ...

and every now and then darting down into it! It was all ·
over a mixture of the most beautiful green and blue, with ,
some orange color. It was somewhat less than a thrush,
and had a large head and bill, and a short tail.
Tutor. I can tell you what that bird was, - a kingfisher, ,
the celebrated halcyon . of the a11ci~11 ts~ about which so rnn ny ;
tales are told. It lives on fish, wl11ch 1t catches i11 the manner you saw. It builds in holes in the ba11k s; nllll is a shy,
retired bird, never to be see u for from the s tream where it
inhabits.
William. I must try to get another sight of l1im, for I
never saw a bird that pleased me so much. Well, I followed this little brook, till it entered the river, and then
took the path that runs along the bank. On the opposite '
side, I observed several little bir<ls running along the shore, ·
and making a piping noise . They were brown and white,
and about as big as a snipe.
Tutor. I suppose they were sand-pipers, one of the numerous family of birds that get their living by wad in 0er amo11cr
0
the shallows, and picking up worms and insects.
lVilliam . Th ere were a great mnny swallows, too, sporting upon the surface of the water, that entertaine<l me with
their motions. Som e times th ey <lashed into the stream;
sometimes they pursu ed one another so quickly, that the
eye could scarcely follow th e m. In one place, where a
high, steep sa nd-bank ro se din!ctly abo ve the river, I observed many of th e m go i11 aud out of hol es , with which th
bank was bored full.
Tutor. Those were s and-martin s , the smallest of our four
spe cies of swallows. They are of a mou se-color a bore, n11d
white beneath. They make the ir 11es ts and bring 11p their
young in th ese holes, which ruu a great depth, aud hy their
sitm1tion are sec ure fro m all plund e rers.
William. A little farther, I saw a m:in i11 a boat, who
was catching ee ls in au odd way. Il e h:id a long pol e with
broad iron pron gs at the end, just like Neptun e's trid e nt,
only there were five instead of thr ee. This he push ed
straight down into the mud, in the deep es t parts of the
rir e r, and fetched up the eels sticking be tween the prongs. ·
Tutor. I have see n tl1is rn etho<l. It is callc<l spearing
of eels.
lVilliam. ·w hil e I wa s looking at him, a heron ca me
flying over my he ad, with hi s large fla gg ing wings. Ile '
alighte d at the next turn of the river, a11<l I crept softly

19

· . .behind the bank to watch his motions. Ile had waded into
:":·. the water as far as his long legs would carry him, and was
standing with his neck drawn in, looking interitly on the
stream. Presently he darted his long bill as quick as lightning into the water, and drew out a fish, which he swallowed. I 1saw him catch another in the same manner. He
· then took alarm at some noise I made, and flew away
, sl.C?wly to a wood at some distance, where he settled._
.·.. Tutor. Probably his nest was there, for herons build upon
the loftiest tree they can find, and sometimes in society to'gether, like rooks. Formerly, when these birds were value.d
for the amusement of hawkmg, many gentlemen had their
heronries, and a few are still remaining .
. ··.~.• William. I think they are the largest wild birds we have.
, · iF ·. Tutor~ They are of gre~t length and spread of wing, but
their bodies are comparatively small.
;
William. I then turned homeward across the meadows,
. ·· where I stopped awhile to look at a large flock of starlings,
' which kept flying about at no great distance. I could not
. -tell, at first, what to make of them ; for they rose all to. gether from · the ground, as thick as a swarm of bees, and
formed themselves into a kind of black clou<l, hovering over
the field. After taking a short round, they i;ettled again,
. and . presently rose again in the same manner. I dare say
ihere were hundreds of them.
~- ..-- <t.! Tutor. Perhaps so; for, in the fenny counties, tl1eir flocks
, are :ao ·numerous, as to break down whole acres of reeds by
' settling on them. This disposition of starlings to fly in close
swarms was remarked even by Homer, who compares the
foe flying from one of his heroes, to a cloud of starlings retiring dismayed at the approach of the hawk.
1
• William. After I
hnd left the meadows, I crossed the
cornfields iri the way to our house, and passed close by a
deep marl-pit. ·Looking into it, I saw in one of the sides
a cluster of what I took to be shells; and, upon going down,
I picked up a dod of marl which was quite full of them;
but how sea-shells could get there I cannot imagine. .
Tutor. 'I · do not wonder at your surprise, since many
philosophers have been much pe rplexed to account for the
same appearance. It is not uncommon to find great quantities of shells and relics of marine animals even in the
bowels of high mountains very remote from the sea.
· TVilliam. I got to the high field next to our house just as
the sun was setting, and I stood looking at it till it was

J

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AIDS TO

ENGLISH COMPOSITIOI'i'.

21

· ;::.• ...
quite lost. What a glorious sight! The clouds were tinged
with purple and crimson, and yellow of all shades and hues
LESSON VII.
and_ the clear sky varied from blue to a fine green at th~
THE USE OF WORDS.
' '!t·i r. •·:
honzon. But how large the sun appears, just as it sets!
I think it seems twice as big as when it is over head.
~--a s~nlence containing one or more of the following
Tut01·. It does so; and you may probably have observed
words
; namely,
the s~rn.e apparent enlargement of tl~e moon at its rising.
'
TVillwm. I have ; but pray what 1s the rcaso11 of this 7
approbation, severe,
contains,
' .idle,
dispensations,
. Tutor .. It is an optical deception, depentli11g upon prinindustrious,
neglect,
reprove,
ciples which I cannot well explain to you, till you know
providence.
well, ,··
reward,
Maker,
more of that branch of science. But what a number of
MODEL.
new ideas this nfternoon's walk has afford ed you! I do
~ot won_d e r that yo_u found it amusing; it has been very
The world contains a great variety of people; some of
1 ''.,
rnstruct1ve, too. Die.I you see nothing of nil these sights,
whom are industrious, ' and perform all their duties well;
Robert?
, ; others · are of idle habits, and neglect their duties. The
Robr.rt. I saw some of them, but I did not take particu- ' good
find their reward in the approbation of their
lar notice of them.
Maker, who will reprove the vicious by severe dispensations
Tutor. Why not?
, of, 'his providence;
Robed. I do not know. I did not care about them ·
EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.
and I made the best of my way home.
'
Tutor. That would have been right, if you had been sent
· ( Tlie exercise, w!tic!t contains t!te largest number ef t!te
on a message; but, as you only walked for amusement it
..' following words in tlie same sentence, will best answer tlte
would have bee n wiser to have sought out as many sonr~es ·( . purpose, of tliis lesson.)
of it as possible. But so it is ; one man walks through the
· Tu,t bi.<f, ..:' ·
quickly,
expect,
promiscuous,
world with his eyes open, and another with them shut; and
enter, '·
inadvertently, fatal,
heterogeneous,
upon this difference de pends all the superiority of knowledae
. field, · ,
· exalted,
infirmities,
mingle,
the one acquires above the other. I have known sailo~s
entire,
>··~ secure, ·.
abandoned,
obtain,
who had been in all the quarters of the world, and could
. contented,
animation,
possess,
complete,
tell you nothing but the signs of the tippling-houses they
astonished,
govern,
enterprising, prospect,
frequented in the different ports, and the price and quality
homage,
need,
refused,
unforeseen,
of the liquor. On the other hand, a Franklin could not '
principle,
admission,
poisonous,
lucubrations,
cross the Chann el without mnking some observations useful
according,
inspect,
baneful,
nomenclature,
to _mankind. While many a vacant, thoughtl ess ·youth is
pride,
sagacity,
influence,
panegyric,
whirled thr_oughout Europe, without gaining a single idea '
indulgence,
paltry,
W<;>rth crossrng a street for ; the obse rving eye and inquiring ; · discontented, fruitless,
miscall, ,
, solicitation,
forbear,
palpitate,
find matter of improvement and delight, in every ramartificial,
disregarded,
gentle,
patent,
ble 111 town and country. Do you then, William, continue
posterity,
present,
cong_ratulate, docile,
to mak_e use of your eyes; and you, Robe rt, learn that eyes
regret,
were given yon to use.
· exemplary,
acquire,
equally,
refute,
beautiful,
deli~htful,
clemency,
tall, . ,
sentiment,
prompt,
refresh,
secret,
straight, ,
necessarily,
anticipate,
secede,
erect,
comp'rehensi ve,a I ien a ted,
shortsighted,
well,
contain,
stimulated,
}

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22
substantial,
indefinite,
auxiliary,
surpass,
surmount,
protest,
surly,
suppress,
withdraw,
approximate,
fearlessly,

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7

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

coerce,
invincible,
atrocious,
repugnance,
rnvasron,
verdure,
fertility,
fleeting,
inundate,
ridiculous,
preserve,
condemn,
commiseration,confine,
uncouth,
di scover,
barbnrity,
a11xious,
productions, solicitude,
insignificant, attitude,

anticipate,
commendable,
evince,
undoubtedly,
ravnges,
menace,
insignificnnt,
re pre hensi ble,
benclits,
conferred,
compatible.

LESSON VIII.
USE OF WORDS AND PHRASES.

Write a sentence containincr
some one or more of the
0
following phrases ; nam ely,
The inhuman barbarity. The frightful ravages.
The nefarious traffic.
In the most effectual manner.
l\fODEL.

. The inltuman. barbarity of_ savage nntions is freqnently
rnc!eas~d by wh!te ~en, who rntroduce among them intoxica~rng liquors.
flus nefarious traffic, which produces such

Has not the slightest foundation.
In order to preserve our
health, it is necessary.
We should always speak.
Can neither be respected, nor
esteemed.
Deserves our commiseration.
Is the first duty of children
at school.
The most insignificant and
trifling.
It is the duty of children.
If \'l' e wish to excel.
Are uncouth and disgusting.
Is a description of the earth.
Teaches us to speak properly and write correctly.
Are the productions of warm
climates.
Where the sun never rises.
Are fleeting and changeable.
Are ridiculous in the extreme.
There is a great difference
between.

Condemned to die.
Invincible repugnance.
He found himself surrounded.
How vast are the resources.
I would surely.
I would rather.
As far as the eye could reach.
Overgrown with verdure.
Evinces remnrkable sagacity.
After feasting my eyes.
Commendable dilige~ce.
Is undoubtedly true.
Overspread with verdure.
Undervalue the advantages.
Duly appreciate. ·
Feel an anxious solicitude.
We anticipate with pleasure.
The effects of intemperance.
Can easily discover.
Shall readily find.
Can easily discern.
Confine our attention .
Is seldom unrewarded.
Is inexcusable.

friglitful ravages, should be put down in tltc most tjfcctual
manner.
EXAl\fPLES FOR PRACTICE.

Great advantage may be de- The value of education.
rived.
Can be useful to fow persons
Menaced with a loud voice.
only.
Invasion of our rights.
Naturally te nd.
Fertility of invention.
The beneficial influence.
Patience and perseverance.
The ban eful effects.
Was inundated.
'l'hc most important.
The importance of.
A good clrnracter.
Are of no great consequence. Young children nr e npt.
Pay particular attention to.
Th e duties of children at
Ile very nnxions.
school arc.
The acquisition of knowl- Ily some thou g htl ess action,
edge.
or expression.

23

LESSON IX.
USE OF WORDS ' AND PHRASES (CONTINUED).

Supply the omission in the following sentences.
MODEL.

God created - - .
The stars shine - - .
The moon - - her light from the sun.
- - is a very valuable metal.

Tlte same sentences completed.
God created tlte universe.
'l'he stars shine by tltcir own ligltt.
The moon borrows her light from the sun.
Gold is a very valuable metal.

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AIDS TO

EXAMPLES l' OR l'RACTICE.

My pen is a - - one.
My teacher is - - to me.
George behaves - - . .
I attempted to perform 1t - - that I could.
- - deserves our commiseration.
There is a great difference between - - .
- - found himself surrounded by - - .
His parents - - but few of the - - of life.
No one ,should - - the blessings he enjoys.
Great advantage may be derived from - - .
We anticipate with pleasure - - .
l\Iy God, all nature owns thy - - ,
Thou givest the night, an<l thou the <lay.
Auspicious Hope, in thy sweet gardens grow
\iVreaths for each toil, a charm for every - - ;
'Von by their sweets in nature's languid hour,
The way-worn pilgrim seeks thy summer--.
In ancient times, when patriot heroes - - ,
The livincr statesman mourne<l the statesman dea<l.

"'

'

Thou canst not steal the rose's bloom
To decorate thy - · -,
But the sweet blush of modesty
Will len<l an equal grace.
Regard the world with cautious - - ,
Nor raise your expectation high.
Life is a sea where storms must - - ,
'T is folly talks of cloudless skies.
Heaven may not grant thee all thy mi11<l,
Yet say not thou that Heaven 's - - .
God is alike both good and - In what he grants, and what denies.
Perhaps what Goodness gives to-day,
To-morrow, Goodness takes - - .
You say that sorrows intervene,
That sorrows darken half the - - ;
True,- and this consequence you sec, - ·
The world was ne'er designed for - - . ·

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

LESSON

25

X.

USE OF WORDS WITH THE EXPANSION OF THE IDEA.
MODEL.

We went.
We we11t in a carriage.
We went in a carriage to the meeting.
We went in a c:irriage to the meeting last night.
We went in a carriage to the meeting in Church Street
last night.
We went in a carriage to the meeting in Church Street
last night, and heard an excellent sermon.
We went in a carriage to the meeting in Church Street
last night, with a number of friends, and heard an excellent
sermon from the Rev. Mr . Stevens.
We went in a carriage to the meeting in Church. Street
last night, with a number of friends from the country, and
heard an excellent sermon from the Rev. Mr. Stevens, on
the duties of children to their parents.
We went in a carringe to the meeting in Church Street
last night, wit\1 a number of frientls from the country, and,
heard an excellent sermon from the Rev. Mr. Stevens, on
· the duties of children to their parents, delivered in a very,
solemn and impressive manner.
EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.

In the same manner the student may expand the following,
simple sentences :
My father sailed.
John related.
If Heury had not disobeyed.
God created.
I remember.
Habitual indolence undermmes.
I heard John say.
Henry declared.
This book contain~.
A horse ran away.
Gentleness corrects.
3

They have done all they
could.
A cat caught.
A thief was caught.
The lightning struck.
The river rolled.
The minister preached.
The artist painted.
I have purchased.
His parents reside.
The boy fell.
The girls rose.

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26

AIDS TO

The boys took.
The servants returned.
My father keeps.
The ship sailed.
The master came.
A large number of people
assembled.
Geography teaches . .

A mad dog bit.
The sheriff took.
The wind blew down.
The tide overflowed.
The earthquake destroyed.
The beggar came.
I heard him sing.

LESSON XI.
ARRANGEMENT OF WORDS IN SENTENCES.

Sentences consisting of parts awl members may sometimes be variously arranged, without altering the sense. It
is a general rule, that the longest member of the sentence,
together with the most sonorous words, should be reserved
for the conclusion of the sentence.
MODEL.

I cannot pass over in silence such unusual moderation
in the exercise of supreme power, such unheard-of and
singular clemency, a11d such remarkable mildness, in the
exercise of supreme power.
Tlie same sentence better arranged.

I cannot pass over in silence such remarkable mildness,
such singular and unheard-of clemency, such unusual moderation in the exercise of supreme power. Or,
Such remarkable mildness, such singular and unheard-of
clemency, such unusual moderation in the exercise of supreme power, I cannot pass over in silence.
EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.

This is a time when every man must feel more especially
that he is a spiritual and an immortal being, making covenant with God, when his better and deeper nature must
rise up within him.
And now the fathers are all standing below the pulpit
with thoughtful and grave affection. Each supports his infant with gentle and steadfast affection, and has tenderly
taken it into his hands.

"'j

·"1"

i .•

.,. -

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

27

Out of the eternal rocks, by God's hand, the church m
which they were assembled was hewn.
The inhabitants of that parish found other places to
celebrate the ordinances of religion, and to worship God.
To vindicate the religion of their God, to defend the justice of their country, to save us from ruin, I call on this
most learned, this right . reverend bench.
To maintain
yourown dignity, and to reverence that of your ancestors,
I call upon the honor of your lordships. I call upon the
humanity and the spirit of my country, to vindicate the
national character.
Contented and thankful, after having visited London, we
returned to our retired and peaceful habitations.
When the Romans were pressed by a foreign enemy,
the women voluntarily contributed all their rings and jewels,
to assist the government.
He had ploughed, sowed, and reaped his often scanty
harvest with his own hands, assisted by three sons, who,
even in boyhood, were happy to work with their father in
the fields.
The little, bleak farm, sad and affecting in its lone and
extreme simplicity, smiled like the paradise of poverty,
when the lark, lured thither by some green barley field, rose
ringing over the solitude ; and among the rushes and heath,
the little brown moorland birds were singing their short
songs.
At every step he advanced, his heart became more and
more elated, having with difficulty found his way to the
street where his decent mansion had formerly stood.
Looking eagerly around he proceeded with joy, but of
the objects with which he had formerly been conversant, he
observed but few.
The cottages, too, were nearly all alike, but one was preeminent above the rest, for the peculiar beauty of its situation and its neatness.
He hastened to the palace, overwhelmed with anguish,
and, casting himself at the feet of the emperor, he cried,
Great prince, I have survived my family and friends, and,
even in the midst of this populous city, I find myself in a
dreary solitude; to that prison from which mistaken mercy
has delivered me, graciously send me back.

,

28

.

,,

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

LESSON XII.

LESSON XIII.

SENTENCES.

ANALYSIS OF COMPOUND SENTENCES.

The following words constitute a perfect sentence.
required to arrange them into sentences.

It is

MODELS.

J.

A gratitude emotion delightful is.
Gratitude is a delightful emotion.
2.

Exclamation interesting adverse when circumstances under Mark Antony this made "ha\•e all I except lost away
given have I what."
Mark Antony, when und er a<lverse circumstances, made
this interesting exclamation; "I have lost all, except what
I have given away."
EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.

Sorrows the poor pity su ffer in gs of the and.
To itself others hea rt grateful the duty at performs once
its and itself grateful endears .
Beings best of God kin<lest th e is nnd.
Lamented an amiable youth sincere of terms in grief parent death affectionnte the of a mos t.
Temper even and mild remarkably a possessed Sir Isaac
Newton.
·w ords few th ese in duties contained all are moral our:
By do done be would ns yo u.
To eat and drink, instead of living do as many drink ancl
eat we should, to live in order.
Glorious the Sun how an object is; but glorious more
how much good is great that and good Being use for our
made it who.

29

Annlysis means the separation of the parts, of which a
thing is composed;
A compound sentence is composed of several simple sentences, joined together by conjunctions, pronouns, or otber
connecting words.
To nnalyze a compound sentence, (or, the analysis of a
compound sentence) means to separate the simple sentences and phrases of which it is composed; and it is performed by omitting the connecting words, and supplying the
words which were omitted in the connexion.
MODEL.

Compound Sentence.
Modesty, a polite accomplishment, generally attendant
on merit, is in the highest degree engaging, and wins the
heart of all, with whom we are acquainted.

Simple Scntwces of w!tic!t tl1e aboue is composed.
Modesty
Modesty
Modesty
Modesty
ed.

is a polite accomplishment.
is generally attendant on merit.
is in the highest degree engaging.
wins the heart of all with whom we are acquaintEXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE,

Tlie pupil may now analyze lite following Compound
Sentences.
Nothing can ntone for the want of modesty; without
which beauty is ungraceful and wit detestable.
The smooth stream, the serene atmosphere, the mild
zephyr, are the proper emblems of a gentle temper and a
peaceful 1ife.
'
Among the sons of strife, all is loud and tempestuous,
and, consequently, there is little happiness to be found in
their society.
If one hour were like another, if the passage of the sun
3*

•
30

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31

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

did not show that the <lay is wasting, and if the change
of seasons did not impress upon us the flight of the year,
quantities of <luration equal to days and years would glide
away unobserved.
The forests, the hills, the moun<ls, lift their hea<ls i11 unalter".ble r e pose; an<l furnish the same sources of contemplation to us, that they did to those ge11 e ratio11s that have
passed away.
I have seen, in <lilferent parts of the Atlantic co1111try,
the breast-works and oth e r de fen ces of earth, that were
thrown up by our people during th e war of the R e volution .
Pause for a while, ye trav e llers of earth, lo c o11template
the universe in which you dwell, and the gl o ry of him who
created it.
This un e asin ess of his mind incline<l him to lay hold on
every n e w obj e ct, an<l g ive way to e very se11satio11 that
might soothe or divert him.
The air, the earth, and th e water teem with delighted
existence.
The lady Arabella John son, a <laughter of the Ear.I of
Lincoln, accompani ed he r hu s band in th e crnbarkat1on ;
and, in honor of he r, the ship was called hy he r name .
She died in a short tim e afte r her arrival, and l ies buri ed
near the n e ig hbouring sh ore . No stone, nor oth e r memorial,
indicates the exa c t place ; but tradition has preserved it
with a care ful a11Cl holy rev e re n ce.
Timid though sh e be , and so de licate that the winds of
heaven may n ot too rou g h Iy \"is it he r, ye t th e cha 111 ber of
the sick, the pillow of th e dy in g, th e vi g ils of the den<l, the
altars of re ligion, ne ve r misse d th e prese nce of woman .
She perishe <l in this noble und e rt a king, of which. she
seemed the ministe ring angel, nnd her de ath ~pr e a<l u111versal gloom and sorrow through the colony.

ellipsis, or omission of those wor<ls, which occur more than
·once in the simple sentences of which it is composed; and
conjunctions, pronouns, or other connecting words substituted for them.

T!te student must take particulm· care, that the pronouns,
verbs, cS·c., be of tlte rigid number, person, and gender.
Tltis caution is tlte more necessary, because young persons
frequently make mistakes in t!tese respects.
· A 1·ecollection of t!te rules relating to tlie UNITY of a
sentence will be neerled in tltis lesson ; particular[!/ the
first two : namely, that " Dm·ing the course of tlte sentence,
the sullject, or nominative case, should be changed as little as
possible; " and tltat " Ideas wlticlt liave so little connexion,
that t!tey may well be divided into two or more sentences,
should neve1· be crowded into one."
l\IODEL.

Simple Sentences to be united in a Compound Sentence.
Man is a rational animal.
Man is en<lowed with the highest cnpacity for happiness.
Man sometimes mistakes his best interests.
.Man sometimes pursues triAes with all his energies.
Man considers trifles as the principal object of desire m
this fleeting world.

Compound Sente11ce composed of tlte preceding Simple
S entences.
Man is a rational animal endowed with the highest capacity for happiness ; but he sometimes mistakes his best
interests, and pursues trifles with all his energies, considering them as the principal object of desire in this fleeting
worl<l.
EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.

LESS 0 N XIV.
SYNTHESIS OF SIMPLI': SENTENC ES.

Synthesis is the re \'e rse of Analysi s , a11<l is l1ere use <l lo
signify the union of sev e ral simple se nte n ces, to form a
compound sente nce.
In the co mposition of simple se ntenc es, there must be an

1'he pupil will 11010 unite the following simple· sentences
in a compound sentence. All the sentences belonging to one
number, as expres sed bel010, m·e to bejoinerl -in one compound
sente11ce, if it can be done wit/tout violating tlte rules of
unity.
1. Death 1s the liberator of him whom freedom cannot
release.
Death 1s the physician of him whom medicine cannot
cure.

32

AIDS TO

Death 1s the comforter of him whom time cannot console.
2. Some animals are cloven-footed.
Cloven-footed is a term applied to those whose feet are
split, or divided.
Cloven-footed animals are enabled to wulk more easily
on uneven ground.
3. Lochiel was the chieftain of the warlike clan of the
Camerons.
Lochiel was one of the most prominent 111 respect to
power among the Highland chieftains.
Lochiel was one of the most prominent 111 respect to
influence among the Highla11d chieftains.
4. On his way he is met by a Seer.
The Seer, accordi11g to tile popular belief, had the gift
of prophecy.
The Seer forewarns him of the disastrous event of his
enterprise.
The Seer exhorts him to return home.
The Seer exhorts him not to be involved 111 certain destruction.
Certain destruction awaited the cause.
Certain destruction afterwards fell upon it 111 the battle
of Culloden.
5. Fire was one of the four elemei1ts of the philosophers.
Air was 011e or the four e lements of the philosophers.
Earth wa s 011e of the four elements of the philosophers.
Water was one of the four elements of the philosophers.

6. Of a~I vices

no~rn is more criminal than lying.
Of all vices none 1s more mean than lying.
Of all vices none is more ridiculous than lying.

7. Self-conceit blnsts the prospects of many a youth.
Presumption blasts the prospects of many a youth.
Obstinacy blasts the prospects of rnany a youth.
8. The cow is a useful animal.
The cow furnishes us with milk.
Cheese and butter are obtained from milk.
Cheese is an important article of food.
Butter is an important article of foo<l.
U. The tailor Ii ves on the other si<le of the street.
The tailor ma<l e the gnrr11e11ts.
I wore the garments at the meeting.

ENGLISH CO!ltPOSITION.

33

The meeting was held on Thursday.
This tailor is a very skilful workinan.

IO. The statue of Washington is of marble.
The statue stands in tlH? state-house.
The state-house is in Boston.
This marble came fro111 Italy.
Italy is a country which affords the most beautiful specimens of marble.
The statue was executed by Chantrey.
Chantrey is one of the most celebrated sculptors of
the age.
Chantrey rcsi<les in London.
11. The art of writing contributes much to the convenience of mankind.
The art of writing contributes much to the necessity of
mankind.
The art of writing was not invented all at once.
.l\lankind proceeded by degrees in the discovery of the
art ~f writing.
Pictures were the first step towards the art of writing.
~ieroglyphics was the second step towards the art of
wntmg.
An alphabet of syllables followed the use of hieroglyphics.
. At last Cadmus brought the Alphabet from Phrenicia
mto Greece.
The Alphabet had been used in Phamicia some time.
A number of new letters were added to the Alphabet
during the Trojan war.
. At length the Alphabet became sufficiently comprehensive to embrace all the sounds of the language.

LESSON

XV.

ARRANGEMENT, OR CLASSIFICATION.

The learner is to be required in this lesson to arrange or
clas.sify a subject assigned. Thus, if a chapter of Proverbs,
for mstance, be assigned him to classify, he will put all the
v~r~es together which belong to the same subject; such as
similar characters, similar virtues, conditions of life, &c.
The following model exhibits a classification of some of the
verses of the 11th chapter of Proverbs.

•
34

AIDS TO

l\IODEL.
I

j:
I

~

;:
j:

.
'i

' \

I.;•la!I
I .

;.'l· :

l'·I,·I.
f·f
~l

lf
'''

! .

/,

;iii
1L
r;/

1

t11'

Verses relating to tlte llig!ttcous Man.
The integrity of the upright shall guide them .
The r!ghteousness of the per'.ect shall direct his way.
The righteousness of the upright shall deliver them.
The righteous is delivered out of trouble.
'When it goeth well with the righteous the city rejoiceth.
By the blessing of the upright the city is exalted.
To him that soweth righteousn ess shall be a sure reward.
Righteousness tendeth to life; such as are upright in
their way are the Lord's delight.
The seed of the righteous shall be delivered.
The desire of the righteous is only good.
The righteous shall flourish as a branch.
The fruit of the righteous is a tree of life.
Behold the righteous shall be recompensed in the earth.
Righteousness delivereth from death.
Through knowledge shall the just be delivered.
EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.

The pupil may now classify the remaining verses of the
same chapter, by selecting those which relate to 1'/ie wicked, or unjust, The wise, Th e liberal, The illiberal, &c.
He may then take a sentence assigned by the teacher,
and classify the words in it, by arrancrincr them under the
following. he?ds, na.n~ely ;, 1st, Such a~ signify things; 2d,
Such as s1grnfy qualities; 3d, Such as signify circumstances;
~th, Such as signify relations; 5th, Such as signify con11cx1on; 6th, Such as signify actions, together with such other
classes as he can discover.
A1?ot.her exer~ise of th~ same kind will be furnished by
class1fy111g the different a111mals, ben.s ts ' birds ' fi shes... , insects '
&c., which he has seen, or about which he has read. For
instance, he may write a list of those animals with which
he is acquainted that have Juul' feet, call ed qundrup eds ;
then of those which have but two; then of those which have
none. 2dly, Those which have horns, that chew the cud, &c.
H e may then classify the books of a library according to
their subjects.
The words of n language.
The articles of furniture in a house, designating those

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

35

which are designed for ornament, ns well ns for the various
uses of cooking, comfort, convenience, &c.
Tools used for cutting.
To?ls. used for cultivating the earth, mentioning for what
each 1s intended.
The different sorts of vegetables.

LESSON XVI.
CAPITAL LETTERS.

· The .first word. ~f every book, chapter, letter, note, or any
other piece of wntmg should begin with a capital letter.
The names of the months and the days of the week should
always begin with a capital letter.
The first word after a period should begin with a capital
letter.
·
The firs~ wo~d after ~very interrogation, or exclamation,
shoul? begm with a capital letter; unless a number of interrogative, or exclamatory sentences occur together and are
not totally independent.
'
~he ~arious n.ames, or appellations of the Deity should
begm with a cap1~al letter; as, God, Jehovah, the Almighty,
the Supreme Ilemg, the Lord Providence the Messiah
the Holy Spirit, &c.
. '
'
'
All proper n?mes, such ~s the names of person's, places,
str~ets, mountams, lakes, rivers, ships, &c., and adjectives
derived from them, should begin with a capital letter.
. Th~ first word of a quotation afier a colon, or when it is
m a direct form, should begin with a capital letter
The first word of an example, every substantive ~nd prin~ipal. word in the titles of books, and the first word of every
lme 111 poetry, should begin with a capital letter.
T.he pr?noun I, and the interjection 0, are always written m capitals.
. Any w~rd~ when ~emarkably emphatical, or when they
are .the pr111c1pal subject of the composition, may begin with
capitals.

•
36

ENGLISH COJIIPOSITION.

AIDS TO

1'/u followiug sentences, in wlticlt capital li:tters a,.c im]Jroperly used, may now be corrected by the lcarne1·.

when socrates Was Asked what Man Approached the
Nearest to Perfect happiness, He answere<l, that man who
Has The Fewest wants.
a<l<lison Has Remarked, with Equal piety a11d truth, that
the Creat.io11 is a Perpetual fenst T? the rni111l of a G~od man.
diligence, in<lustry, and Proper 1111prove111e11t Of ~1mc, Arc
Material duties Of the Young; out the you11g Often Neglect These duties.
.
how often shall my brothe r sin against me and I forgive
him 7 till Seven Times 7
but what Excuse can the englishman Plead 7 the custom
Of <luelling 7
how many lessons are there in this book? arc there .More
Than tw e nty-five 7
.
why <li<l You Not Arrive sooner7 were you necessarily
Detained 7
daughter of faith, Awake! Arise! Illume
the Dread Unknown, The chaos of The tomb.
the lord My pasture Shall Prepare,
and Feed Me With A shepher<l's care.
father of all in Every Age,
in Every Clime Adore<l,
by Saint, by savage, and By sage,
jehovah, jove, or lord.
thou rrreat first cause, least understood,
who
my Sense Confined ( confiue<lst),

All

to Know llut This, That thou Art good
and That myself Am lllin<l.
yet Gavest me In this Dark Estate, &c.
the language of Many of the european nations was derived From the Ancient latin.
The english and french Fleets had a Severe Engagement.
i saw the <lutch Ambnssador i11 the Carriage of the spanish consul.
Always remernber this Ancie11t maxim, Spoken by the
greek philosopher: "Know thyself:"

37

The christian lawgiver Says, "take up Thy Cross Daily
and follow me."
' . ~olomon observes, that "Pride goes Before Destruction."
johnson's dictionary has long been the standard of eng. lish orthography ; but the work of doctor webster seems in
a Fair way to Supplant It.
have you read rollin's ancient history.
thomson 's sca!:!ons an<l cowper's task contain many Poetical Beauties.
i hope You will be able to Write Correctly All that i
have Written.

LESSON XVII.
OF PUNCTUATION.*

Punctuation is the art of dividing a written compos1t1011
into sentences, or parts of sentences; and is principally
used to mark the grammatical divisions of a sentence. 'fhe
marks employed in punctuation are sometimes used to note
the different pauses and tones of voice, which the sense and
an accurate pronunciation require.
" The importance of correct punctuation may be seen by the following
extract fr om the London Times of September, 1818.
"The contract lately made for lighting the town of Liverpool, during the
ensuing year, has been thrown void by the misplacing of a comma in the
advertisement, which ran thus : 'The lamps at present are about 4050 in
number, aml have in ~eneral two spouts each, composed of not less than
twenty thrcacls of cotton.' The contractor would have proceeded to furnish each lamp with the said twenty threads; but, this being but half the
usual quantity, the commissioner discovered that the difference arose from
the comma following, instead of preceding, the word each. The parties
agreed to annul the contract, and a new one is now ordered."
Again ; the meaning or lhe following sentence is materially affected by
the yunct11nt.ion:
" said that he is dishonest it is true and I am sorry for it.' 1
Now the pause placed ancr dishonest, will imply that it is tme that he is
.dishone.~t , thus: "l said that he is dishonest; it is true, and I am sorry for it.''
But, if the pause be placed after true, the sentence implies that it is true
that I said he is dishonest , and I am sorry that I said so, thus: "I said that
he is dishonest , it is true; an<! 1 am sorry for it."
The misplacing of n comma, by a Mr. Sharpe, converted an innocent
remark int.o a piece of horrid blasphemy: "llelieving Richard Brothers to
be a prophet Rent, by God I have engraved his portrait.'' Had the comma
been removed two words forward, the assertion would have been in~ocent.

4

I
38

ENGLISH COJllPOSITION.

AIDS TO

The c haracte rs, or mark s, u se <l in pun c tuati on nre:
The Co mma *
Th e S em icolon t
The Colon
The Period t
The Exclamation
Th e Interrogation
The Da s h
The Ellipsis
The Hyphen
Th e Ilreve
The Apostrophe

!
?

The quotation marks
The Dia:: resis
C rotch ets
Brackets
The Ilrace
The
The
Th e
Th e
Th e

cc "

( )

[J

}

A c ute A cce nt
Grave A cce nt
'
Circumflex Accent "
Ca rel
11
C ed ill a
~

To these may be added th e marks of re fe re nce :
The J\ste ri sk
The Obelisk
The Double Obelisk

*
i-

t

Th e Section
Th e Paralle ls
Th e Paragra ph

~
11

~I

RULES OF P UNCTUATI ON.

I. When tw o or more wor<ls are connected without the
connecting word being expressed, the com m <~ su pplies . tl!e
place of th at word; as, "Alfr ed was a bra ve, pious, patriotic
prince."
~. Those parts of a sen tence which co ntain the relative
pronoun, th e c ase absolute, th e non.1irrntive case independent, any parenthet ical clau se , an<l s.1mple m e mb ~rs of sentences, connected by word s ex press mg a co rnparis~n, must
be separated by commas; as, "'~'he elep.hant? wl11ch you
saw in the menagerie, took the child up with hrs trunk rnto
.
I ost, a II Vil'
. t ue .rs I o~ t ." ". I> eace,
his cage." " S hame bemg
O Virtue peace is all thine own." "lletter 1s a dmn er of
' love than a stalled ox a11d hatre <l t 11ere w1t
. I1. "
herbs with
3. The follo~ing words and phrases, and others similar
to them, are generally sep arated by commas from the rest
" Th e word cornma is derived from th e G reek language, and prope rly
d es ignates a segmen~, sec.Lio ~ , o.r part cut o.ff fr om. a co mpl e te sentence.
In its usual acc e ptation, 1t s1g mfi cs the pornt, win c h mark s the s mall er
segments, or porti ons of a period . It, th erefo re , r.cprcse nts th e ~ h o rt es t
pause, and co nsc'1ue ntl y marks the leas t cons tru c tiv e or most <lcpemlent
p arts of a se ntence.
.
.
.
.
.
t The word .~rmicu l on is den vc<l ! mm.t h ~ .Lat111 word sr1111, winch means
half, an<l th e Gree!~ word lw /011, w~11 c h s1gn1 !1 cs a mcnili.c r.
f. The word period 1s derived from tli e Urce k lan gu.1ge, and means 11 a
circuit."

39

of the sentence; namely, Nay, so, however, hence, besides,
perhaps, finally, in short, at least, moreover, again, first,
secondly, thirdly, lastly, once more, on the contrary, &.c.
4 . . The words of another writer, not formally introduced
as a quotation, and words and clauses expressing contrast
or opposition, though closely connected in construction, are
separated by a comma ; as, " I pity the man, who can
travel from Dan to Beersheba and cry, 'T is all barren."
. "Though deep, yet clear; though gentle, yet not <lull ;
Strong, without rage; without o'erflowing, full."
5. Wh e n the absence of a word is indicated in reading
or speaking by a pau se, its place may be supplied by a
comma; as , " From law ari ses security ; from security,
inquiry; from inquiry, knowl ed ge."
6. Nouns in apposition , accompanied by explanatory
words or phrases, arc separated by commas; but if such
nouns are single, or only form a proper name, they are not
divid ed ; as , " Paul the Apostle of the Gentiles was eminent
for his zeal and knowledge."
7. '\Vhen a sentence consists of several members, each
constituting a distinct proposition, and having a dependence upon each other, or upon some common clause, they
are separated by semicolons ; as, "'\Visdom has builded
her house; she hath hewn out her seven pillars; she hath
killed her beasts ; she hath mingled her wine; she hath
also furnished her table."
8. The colon is used to divide a sentence into two or
more parts, which, although the sense be complete in each,
are not wholly ind epend ent; as," Nature felt her inability
to extricate herself from the consequences of guilt : the
gospel reveal s the plan of Divine interposition and aid.
9. The colon* is used when an example, a quotation, or
a speech is introduced ; as, " The Scriptures give tis an
amiable representation of the D e ity in these words: God is
love."
" Some very res pectabl e grammarians tell us, that the propriety of using
a col on or sem icolon is sometimes determined by the use or omission of a
conjunction; as, "Do not fl atte r yourself with the hope of perfect happiness : th ere is no su ch thin g in the world : " " Do not flatter 1ourselves
with the hope of perfect har, pin ess ; for th e re is no such thrng in the
world." But man y rcspP.ctab e writers make no use of the colon; and it
may well be qu es tioned, whether th e rete ntion of this character nmong
th e marks of p unctuation a<lds any thing to the clearness or pre cision of
written language.

Jf' .

if .

40

AIDS TO

IO. The period is used at the end of n complete nn<l
independent sentence. It is also pl aced a Iler i 11 iti a I letters,
when used alone; and, likewise, after all ahhreriatiom1;
as, "One clear and direct path is pointed out to man ."
"Fear God." "Have charity towards all men." "G. 'V."
for" George Washington." "Geo." for "George." "Be11j."
for "Benjamin." "0. S." for" Old Style." " F. IL S."
for " Fellow of the Royal Sociely."
In a general view, the period separates the paragraph
into sentences; the semicolon divitles a compo1111d sc11te11ce
into simple ones; and the comma collects into clauses the
scattered circumstances of manner, time, place, relation,
&c., belonging to e\·ery verb aud to every noun.
The note of i11terrogation,* or the question, as it is sometimes called, is placed after every sc11tc11ce which contains
a question; as, " 'Who is this?" "\\7 hat have you i11 your
hand?" "The Cyprians said to me, ¥Vhy <lo you weep 1"
The exclamation point is nse<l to express any sudden or
violent emotion; such as surprise, joy, grief, love, hatred,
anger, pity, anxiety, ardent wish, &c. It is also used to
mark an exalted idea of the Deity; and is generally placed
after the nominative case independent; and afler the noun
or pronoun which follows an interjection; as, ''How mischievous are the effects of war ! " " 0 blissful <lays I Ah
me ! how soon ye pass ! "
The exclamation point is also used after sentences containing a question when no answer is expected; as, "\Vhat
is more amiable than virtue ! "
Several exclamation poi11ts are sometimes used together,
either in a parenthesis or by themselves, for the purpose
of expressing ridicule, or a great degree of surprise, &c.
A parenthesis t is a sentence, or a part of a se11te11ce, i11serted within another sentence, but which may lie omitted
without injuring the sense or construction, and is e11closed
between two curved lines like these; ( ).
The curved Jines between which a parenthesis is enclosed
are called crotchets.
Sometimes a sentence is enclosed between marks like
these, [] which are called brackets.
'" 'fhe word interrogation is derived from the Latin, nntl means a question.
t The word parenthesis is derived from the Greek language, and means
an insertion.

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

41

The following difference is to be noticed 111 the use of
· crotchets and brackets : Crotchets are used to enclose a
sentence, or part of a sentence, which is inserted between
the parts of another sentence : Brackets are generally used
to separate two subjects, or to enclose an explanatory note
or observation standing by itself. ¥Vhen a parenthesis occurs within another parenthesis, brackets enclose the for. mer and crotchets the latter ; as in the following sentence
f~o~ Sterne: "I know the banker I deal with, or the phys1c1a1~ I usually ~all in [the.re. is no need, cried Dr. Slop
(wakmg), to call 111 a11y physician in this case] to be neither
of them men of much religion."
.
· It may here be remarked, that a parenthesis is frequently
placed between commas, instead of crotchets, &c.; but
the best writers avoid the use of parenthesis as much as is
possible.
The hyphen• is a small mark placed between the parts
of a compound word ; as, sea-water semi-circle.
. The hyphen is also used to den~te the long sound of a
vowel; as, Epicurean, deco-rum, balco-ny.
The hypl1en must always be put at the end of the line
. when part of a word is in one line and part in another·
. but, in this case, the letters of a syllable must never b~
separatecl ; as,
extraordinary, not extraordinary.
The dash is a straight mark longer than a hyphen ;
thus,-.
The proper use of .the dash is to express a sudden stop,
or change of the subject; but, by modern writers, it is employed as a substitute for almost all of the other marks·
being used sometimes for a comma, semicolon colon o;
. I ; sometimes for a question or an exclamation
'
'
perroc
and
sometimes for crotchets and brackets to enclose a p~renthesis.
·
An ellipsis t or omission of words, syllables, or letters, is
indicated by various marks .; sometimes by a dash ; as, the
k--g, for the king; sometimes by asterisks or stars, like
* The word hyphen is de;ived from. the Greek language, and signifies
1mder one, or togethe1·; and JR used to imply that the words or syllables
betwr.en which it is placed, are to be taken too·ether as one word.
'
t. 'l~he word ellipsis is derived from the Gr~ek language, nnd means an
omzsswn.
4*

43

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COJllPOSITION.

these, "" "" * * ; sometimes by hyphens, thus, - - - - ; sometimes by small <lots or periods, I ike these : ..
The breve (thus, ~) is placed over a vowel to indicate its
short sound ; as, St. Helena.
The apostrophe* is a comma placed above the line. It
is used as the sign of the possessive case, an<l sometimes
indicates the omission of a letter or several letters ; as,
John's ; " 'T is" for " it is" ; " tho' " for " though" ;
"lov'd" for "loved"; "I 'll" for "I will."
The quotation marks, or inverted connnas, as they arc
sometimes called, consist of four commas; two inverted, or
upside down, at the beginning of a word, phrase, or sentence which is quoted or transcribed from some author in
his own words; and two others, in their direct position,
placed at the conclusion; as, An excellent poet says:
"The proper study of mankind is 111n11."
Sometimes the quotation is marked by single, insteacl of
double, commas.
The direresis t consists of two periods placed over the
latter of two vowels; to show that they arc to be pronounced in separate syllables; as, Laocoon, Zounomia,
cooperate.
\
The brace is employed to uuite several lines of poetry, or
to connect a number of words with one common term; and
it is also used to prevent a repetition in writing or printing;
thus,
" ·w aller was smooth; but Dryden taught to join
The varying verse, the full-re sounding line,
The long majestic march ancl energy divine."

The accents• are marks used to signify the proper pronunciation of words.
The acceuts are three in number;
The grave accent; thus, '
The acute accent ; thus, '
The circumflex accent ; thus, "
The grave accent is represented by a mark placed over a
letter, or syllable, to show that it must be pronounced with
the falling inflection of the voice; as, lleuthamir.
The acute accent is represented by a similar mark, pointing in the opposite direction, to show that the letter or syllable must be pronounced with the rising inflection of the
voice; thus, Epicurean, Europi)an.
·
The meaning of a sentence often depends on the kind of
accent which is used; thus, the following se'ntence, if the
acute accent be used on the word alone, becomes a question.
"Pleased thou shalt hear, and thou alone shalt hear 7" ·
But, if the grave accent be placed on the word alone, it be. comes a simple declaration ; as,
"Pleased thou shalt hear, and thou alone shalt hear."
The circumflex accent is the union of the grave and
acute accents, and indicates that the syllable on which it is
placed should have both the rising and the falling inflection
·of the voice.
The caret t is a mark resembling an inverted v, placed
under the line. It is never used in printed books, but, in
manuscripts, it shows that something has been accidentally
omitted ; as,
recited
"George has his lesson."

C-e-o-u-s (
C-i-o-u-s
.
~ are pronounced like shus.
.
S -c-1-0-u-s
T-i-o-u-s
The cedilla, or cerilla, is a curve line placed under the
letter c, to show that it has the soun<l of s. lt is used principally in words derived from the French langunge.
Thus, gar<(On, in which word the <( is to be pronounced
likes.

, The following marks are references; and are generally
used to cnll attention to notes on words or sentences, placed
at the bottom of the page :
The Asterisk, •
The Parallels, II
The Obelisk, t
The Paragraph, ,-r
The Double Obelisk, t
The Index, o:T
The Section, ~
"\Vhen many notes occur on a page, and these marks are

" The wonl aposlroph c is derived from the C;,-,.,ck lnng11nge , nil(] Ri~nilics
the l11.r11ing ltWW/ 1 or umissio11 1 of O llC letter or 111111"".
•
t The word di wresis is derived fr om the Greek language, nml signifies
a taking away, or a division.

" The word accent is derived from the Latin language, and signifies the
tone cl{ the voice.
t The word caret is derived from the Latin language, and signifies it is
wanting.

!

~

44

AIDS TO

ENGLISH CO!llPOSITION.

45

all exhausted, th ey arc sometimes double<I. Figures and
tom of the page, nrc marks for directing the book-binder,
letters are al so sometimes used instead or the abo ve marks.
in collecting and folding the sheets.
It is proper to re mark, that, in some books the se c tion,~'
The catch-word is the word at the bottom of the page,
and. the paragraph, ,T, are used to mark the parts or a comon the right hand, which is repeated at the beginninu of
position, which in writing or printing should be separated.
the next in order to show, that the pages succeed ~ne
A paragraph * denotes th e beginning of a ne w s ubject, or
another in proper order. It is seldom inserted in books
a sentence not c onnected with the for egoing.
recently printed.
A section tis used for subdividing a chapte r into smaller
· The Italic words in the Old and New Testaments are
parts.
those which. lrnve no corresponding words in the original
It is proper he re to remark, that eve ry compos itio n should , . Hebrew or Greek, but were added by the translators to
be divi<led into paragraphs, wh eu th e sen se will allow the
complete or explain the sense.
separation. Different subjec ts, unl ess th ey are very s hort,
or very num erous in a sm all compass, should be separated
EXERCISES FOR PRAC'I'ICE IN PUNCTUATION.
into paragraphs.

Insert Commas in tl1eir proper places in the following
sentences.

T EC HNI CAL n :rlJ\f S JU: LATJ N( ; TO llOOI< S.

Folio. A boo k is said to be in folio, wh en on e sheet of
p aper m akes but two leav es, or four pa ges . ·w h e n th e sh eet
makes four lea ves or e ig ht pages, it is said to be in quarto
form ; eig ht le aves or sixtee n pages, in octavo; tw elrc leaves
o~ twenty-four pages, duod ecimo ; e ighteen lea ve s, octoclecnno.
These term s are thu s abbre viat ed ; F ol. for folio; 4to.
for quarto; 8vo. for oc ta vo ; 121110. for <luod ec imo; 18 1110.,
24s., 32 s. , G4s., sig nify respec tiv ely, that th e sheet is divided
into e ightee n, tw enty-four, & c., le aves.
The titl e-page is th e fir st page, containing the title; and
a picture facin g it is c all ed th e fronti spi e ce.
Vign ette is a Fre nc h term, used to desi g nate the descriptive or ornam ental pi cture , sometim es pl aced on th e titlep age of a book, so metim es at th e he ad or a chapter, &c.
The runnin g-title is the word or sente nce at th e top of
e very page , gen erally printed in c apitals or Itali c lett e rs.
Wh e n the pnge is divid ed into se veral parts by a blank
space, or a lin e , runnin g fr om th e top to th e bottom ea ch
division is called a column ; as in biLles di cti or:aries
spelling-books, news-papers, &c.
'
'
The letters A, B, C, &c., and A2 , A3, &c., at th e bot" 'I'h ~ '~o rd_ parag raph is de ri1•e<l from th e G ree k lan g uage, and s ig nifies
an ascription w . the 111ar!!·1.11 .
.t .1:'h e w ord ~ecl in~1. Js dc ril' cd fr om Ut e La tin l a n g n ag~ , a n1l s ig nifi es a
d wiswn o r cullm.g. 1 he c har:i c tP.r " ·l11 c h de no tcB a scc l.1 o n scP. nt s to be
m ade of ss, a n d to be an abb re vi a tion of th e w o r<ls si"nmn seclionis the
s ig n of th e sec ti o n.

"

'

Wife children servants all that could be found were savagely slaughtered.
.
He had been born bred and educated on a small moorland farm which he now culti vated.
Doing to others as we wish them to do to us constitutes
the fundamental principle of Christian charity.
Julius Cresar wrote in a clear natural correct flowing
style.
~
Climate soil laws custom food and other accidental differences have produced an astoni shing variety in the complexion features manners and faculties of the human race.
In our epistolary corresponde nce we may advise dissuade
exhort request recommend discuss comfort reconcile.
Exerc ise ferm e nts the hum ors casts the m into the proper
chann els throws off redundancies and assi sts nature in her
necessary operation s.
A wise man will examine every thing coolly impartially
accurately and rationally.
· To live soberly righteously and piously comprehends the
whole of our duty.
Hom er the greatest poet of antiquity is reported to have
been Llind.
Milton the nuthor of "Paradise Lost" and "Regained"
was blind.
I am my dear Sir your humble servant.
Hear me ye children and treasure my words.
Notwithstanding their simplicity many are the sublime
passages in sncred writ.

••
46

AIDS TO

The earth like a tender mother nourishes her children.
·
It is perhaJJS better to speak the truth t 11an to Iie1gn
art
excuse.
Religion dwells not on the tongue but in the henrt.
Plutarch calls lying the vice of slaves.
.
.
Harold being slain the conqueror marched 11nmed1ately
to London.
Swift says no man ever wished himself younger.
To err is humnn; to forgive divine.
.
The great Xerxes upon whom fortune hail lav.1sl1e<l .all
her favors not content with being master of powerful armies
numerous fleets and inexhaustible treasures proposed a re·
ward to any one who should invent a new pleasure.
A man of letters never experiences like other men the
plague of idleness.
You should not desire says an ancient Greek author even
the thread of another man's ueedle.
She let concealment like a worm in the bud feed on her
damask cheek.
The sciences in general open and enlarge the mind.
Nature has wisely determined that man shall want. an
appetite in the beginning of distempers as a defence agamst
their increase.
The whole circle of vices like shadows towards the evening of life appear enormous to a thinking person.
You are not to suppose that the fate either of single. persons of empires or of the whole earth depends 011 the m nu.
ence of the stars.
From law arises security; from security curiosity; from
curiosity knowledge.

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

47

a knife Philip with a long staff or cross Thomas with a
· lance Matthew with a hatchet Matthias with a battle-axe
Simon with a saw and Jude with a club.
Some place their bliss in action some in ease
Those call it pleasure and contentment these.
Most of our pleasures may be regarded as imaginary .but
; our disquietudes may be considered as real.
Chaucer we arc told by Dryden followed Nature every
1
· where but that he never went beyond her.
A clownish air is but a trifling defect yet it is enough to
make a man universally disagreeable.
Make a proper use of time for when lost it can never be
· regained.
· . In the New Testament as in the dignified and sober
liturgy of the Church, we see deep humility but not loathsome abjectness sincere rcpeutence but not agonizing hor• ror steadfast faith but not presumptuous assuranc~ li_vely
hope but not seraphic abstraction the deep sense of human
infirmity but not the unblushing profession of leprous depravity the holy and heavenly communion but not vague
·. experences nor the intemperate trance.
·
· The advantages which according to reason arise from the
rising and the falling of the tides are great by these means
. the streams of rivers being checked in their course to the
sea the bed of the river becomes deeper and ships of the
largest burthen are enabled to sail up their channels with
safety vessels npproaching bays wait for this increase of
water and then enter in security aided too by the tides they
sail up the rivers against their natural course and carry the
means of plenty and abundance into the interior of countries.
Insert t!ie Comm.a, Colon, and Semicolon, where they belong
Do not flatter yourself with the idea of enjoying perfect
in tlie .followi11g sentences.
happiness there is no such thing in the world.
Keep close to thy business it will keep thee from wickedGreen is generally consid ered the most refre;;hing color
ness
poverty and shame.
to the eye therefore Providence has made it the common
The
path of truth is a plain and it is a safe path that of
dress of nature.
falsehood
is a perplexing mnze.
To err is human to forgive divine.
Do
not
flatter yourself with the idea of enjoying perfect
The aim of orators is victory of historians truth of poets
happiness
for
there is no such thing in the world.
admiration.
Were all books reduced to their quintessence many a
Saint Peter is painted with the keys Paul with a sword
Andrew with a cross James the G realer with a pilgrim's bulky author would make his appearance in a penny paper
staff and a gourd bottle James the Less with a fuller's p~le, there would be no such thing in nature as a folio the works
John with a cup and a winged serpent Bartholomew with · of an age would be contained on a few shelves not to men1 tion millions of volumes that would be utterly annihilated.

48

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

Insert the Period, Question, and E xclamation Point, w!ier~
they respectively belong in tlte followi11g sentences. '
Honor all men Fear God Truth is the basis of every
virtue Every deviation from veracity is criminal The Latiri
language is now called a dea<l language because it is no
spoken as the mother tongue of any nation America wa
discovered in the night of Oct 11th 0 S A D 1492 Have
you ever read its history The lta111bler was written by
Samuel Johnson LL D Sir Josh lteyuolds F It S was 8
very distinguished artist
l
In the formation of man what wonderful proofs
magnificence of God's works and how poor and trifling i,
comparison are the productions of man
around you this web of occupation and then complain th~
you cannot break it Let me ask By what right do yo
involve yourself in such a multiplicity of cares Trcme11dou·
torrent" for an instant hush the terrors of thy voice Goo
Heaven what an eventful life was hers Lov ely art thou
Peace and lovely are thy children and lovely arc the print
of thy footsteps in the green vall eys How superior is th .
internal construction of the productions of nature to all th:
works of men.

49

~$ore words, or of one ~ord and some syllable added; as,

::fea-water, unable, myself.*
,"' Words are found, on examination, to be reducible to
'group.s ?r famili~s,. an_d are r~lat~d to each other by identity
o(~ ongm and smulanty of s1gr11fication. Thus the words
. ~us.tly,j'!"stic~,justijy,justification, Justiciary, drijust, readJUst, unjust, tnjustzce, &c., are all kindred words connected
, with the primitive word Just. The primitive ~ords of a
J anguage ~re generally fe~ in number, and language is ren, dered cop10us and expressive by the formation of derivatives
.J'nd compQunds from the primitives.
' When a syllable is added, in the composition of words it
,lakes its name from the ~os~tion in which it is placed with
regard to the Word. If It IS placed before the Word it is
~~ailed a :frtft_x, if at the end of the word, it is called an affix.
· .; In denvat1~e words, there are generally three, and someiunes fo~r thmgs to ?e co?sidered; namely, first, the root,
from which ,the word 1s derived; secondly, the prPjix; thirdly, the affix; fourthly, the letters which are added for the
fake of soun.d, and ~vhich may be called euplwnic letters.
·.;, The root Is somet1.mes called the radical letters of a word.
} hus,, from. t?e Latm word venio, w~ich signifies to come,
pnd its variation ventum, many Engl 1sh words are derived
ID the following manner: The first three letters of the word
pre .taken, as the radical lett_ers, ?r ~oot of the word. By
addmg the prefix ~ont1:a 1 which signifies against, we have
r;ontraven; to which 1s added the euphonic letter e to
LESSON XVIII.
lengthen the l~st syllable, and thus is composed the w'ord
· ~?n~ravene, which means to come against, or oppose. In a
DERIVATION AND COMPOSITION OF WORDS.
,unilar manner, we have the words prevent invent circumt1~nt, convent, and their derivatives. t
'
-'
"Words, with regard to their origin, are divicled into pri
,~
..
·Many
of
the
prefixes
used
in
the
composition
of
English
itive and derivative ; and, with regard to their form, int
simple and compound.
A primitive word is a word whi ch is in its original form , l... • Some compo?nd words are formed by the union of two other words·
and is not derived from any othe r word ; as, man, good .111, sea-water; semi-annual. Such words are generally recognized by th~
~Jphen placed b~tween the words composing the compound. Mr. Goold
content.
Brow~ says, that 'permanent componnds are consolidated," that is, are writA derivative word is that which is derived from anothe ten without the hyphen. But it is conte nded that "glass-house " is as
word; as, manful, manhood, manly, manliness; go0tlnes! much a permanent compound as "bookseller." The truth is that no better
'!8aaon can be given for t~e use or omission of the hyphen, than caprice.
goodly, &c.; contented, contentment, contenting, content ii t 'l;'he student, w~o wishes.to study t~is department of etymology, will
e<lly, &c. ; which are derived respectively from the prim! R~d ,:nore full.Y. d1sp,layed, rn Horne fooke's "Diversions of Purley,,;
B. c.ompos1t10n/,' McCulloch 's "Grammar," and 'l'owne 's "Analysis
tiv e worcls, man, good, conte nt.
" ~fice
Denvahve Words. In the first mentioned of these works the" DiverA sirn pie won! consists of one word, not cornpou11ded' , lO~s of Purley," m3:y be found a learned and ingenious ac'count of tho
tle~1vation and meamng of many of the adverbs, conjunctions and prepoas, sea, able, self.
'
A compound word is a wor<l that is made up of two 6. 1l~.1ons of the En~lish language.

:t

5

50

AIDS TO

words arc Lalin or Greek prepositions; a11cl tire effect \Illich
they produce upon the meaning of the rool conlriuutes,
much to the copiousness of the English language.
.
There are so many other ways of derivi11g words from.
one another, that it would be extremely diflicult and nearly
impossible to enumerate them. A few instances, only, of
the various modes of derivation can uc gircn here.
Some nouns are derived from other 1101111 s, or from adjec·
tives by adding the aflix lworl, or !tear!, shiji, r.11! widr, rir.(c,
dom, ian, mcnt, and age; as, from man, by atl<llllg the afhx
hood, comes manhood, from knight, lc11ig!ttlwod, &c., from
false, f alsc!tood, &c.
Nouns ending in ltoorl, or lwarl, are such as signify char~
acter or quality; as, manhood, falsehood.
Nouns en<li11g in s!ti11 arc tho ~c that signify office, e~··
ploymcnt, state, or con<litio11 ; as, lor<l :; hip, stewan.lsl11p,.
hardship.
Nouns e11ding in cry.signify action or hauit; as, sla\·ery 1
knavery, bravery.
. . ·
Nouns ending in wick, 1·ick, and rlom, denote <lorr11111on,
J. urisd iction ' or condition ·' as ' bailiwick, uisho[Hick, <l uke·'
<lorn, kingdom, freedom.
. .
Nouns ending in ian signify profession ; as, phys1c1an,
musician, &c.
.
Nouns that end in mcnl or age signify the act, or halnt;
as, comman<lment, usage.
.
Nouns that end in ard <lenole character or hau1l; as,
drunkard, dotard.
. .·
Nouns ending in kin, ling, i11g, oclc, cl, generally !'1gn1fy
diminution; as, lamb, lambkin, <luck, duckliug, hill, hillock,
cock, cockerel.
•
Nouns ending in tude or mlc, generally signify state, con·
dition, or capacity; as, plenitu<lc, aptitu<le, &c.
ALI'IJAilETICAL SYNOPSIS OF I'JtEFIXES.

A, Ab, Abs, from.
A<l, Ac, Al, Ap, At, &c., to.
Ambi, both.
Amb, amphi, round.
Ante, before.
Anti, ag ain st.
Ana, back.
Apo, Aph, ji·om.

Auto, one's self
Be, to make.
Bene, well.
lli, Bis, l1ro, !talf.
Biblio, book.
Bio, lifi·.
Cc11tu, !11mrfrcd.
C hro11 o, ti me.

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

' · Circum, round.
. Co, Con, Col, Com, Cor, witli.
;: <;::ontra, against.
· Cosmo, t!tc world.
~ Counter, opposite.
De,froni, down.
Deca, ten.
Di, Dis, &c., separation, not.
Dia, t!trougli.
· Dys, bad, dUfir:ult, ltarrl.
E, Ex, El, Em, Er,&c.,out of.
En, Em, in.
Epi, upon.
Equi, equal.
Extra, beyond.
For, against.
Fore, prior.
Geo, tlte eartli.
Hetero, of divC1's kinds.
·Hex, Hexa, six.
Homo, of one kind.
.H ydro, wate1·
Hyper, over.
·.In, Im, II, not, with an adjec. tive, into, with a verb, on.
Inter, among.
Intro, wit/tin.
Juri, legal.
Juxta, near.
Litho, stone.
Male, evil.
Manu, ltand.
Mis, error.
Mono, one.
Multi, many.
Myth, fabulous.
Noct, niglit.
Non, Ne, not.
Ob, Oc, &c., brfin·e, against.
· Oct, eigltt.
Omni, all.
Ornitho, bird.
Ortho, right.
Oste, bone.

Ont, beyond.
Over, above.
Pan, all.
Para, against.
Penta, jive.
Per, t!trough.
Peri, m·o1md.
Phil, friendly.
Physi, nntm·c.
Plcni, jidl.
Poly, many.
Post, after.
Pre, befm·e.
Preter, beyond.
Pro, before, out.
Pyro, fire.
Quad, four.
Re, again.
Retro, back.
Se, separation.
Semi,
~
Demi, ltalf.
Ile mi,
Sex, six.
Sine, without.
Soli, alone.
Steno, sltort.
Stereo, solid.
Sub, Sue, &c., under.
Snbter, under.
Super, Supra, above.
Sur, ovff.
Syn, Syl, &c., witlt.
Tetra, four.
Theo, God.
Topo, place.
Trans, across.
Tri, tl11'ee.
Typo, type.
U 11<ler, beneath.
Uni, one.
With, opposition.
Zoo, animal life.

51

, I

52

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

ALPlIAllETICAI, SYNOPSIS OF AFFIXES.

Age, rank, office.
Ance, ancy,}
Ence, ency, state or act of
Ant, ent,
Ate, ary, ltaving.
Ille, that may be.
Bleness, t!te quality of being
able.
Dly, in a manner.
Cy, ty, y, ity, state, condition.
En, in.
Er, or, an, ian, ix, ess, ee,
eer, ist, ite, sa11, zen, the
pc1·son w!to.
Fy, to make.
Ies, science, art.
Ion, ity, ment, t!te stale or
act of.

Ish, some drgrce.
] sm, do ctrine, st ate.
Ive, ic, ioal, ile, inc, ing, it,
ial, ent, nnt, /":rtaining
to, !ta vi ng lite 'J.llalit y, re·
lati11g to.
Ize, lo 1110/cc.
Less, wit/tout.
Ly, Ziler., rcsmnbling.
Ness, quality of.
Oi<l, resembling.
Ous, ose,
l 11ature of,
Ory, some, j lilcr. ,f11ll of.
Ric, dom, zwssession.
Ship, '!Uir:e.
Ude, state of being.
Ure, act of, state of being.
W ar<l, in a dfrcctiun.

AFFIXES TO AFFIXES.

53

. And, in many instances, the nouns arc of Saxon origin,
while the corresponding adjectives are from the Latin.
Thus,
I

NOUNS FRO!\I THE SAXON.

ADJECTIVES FRO!\I THE LATIN.

Beginning,
Body,
Brother,
Father,
Mother,
Cat,
Day,
Dog,
Earth,
Flock,
Flour,
Glass,

Initial.
Corporeal.
Fraternal.
Paternal.
l\Iaternal.
Feline.
Diurnal.
Canine.
Terrestrial.
Gregarious.
Farinaceous.
Vitreous, &c.

The student is now prepared to write a list of words derive.cl from the proposed simple words, according to the fol-

lowmg
MODEL.

From the word press, the following words are derived:

impress,
repress,
suppress,
Ate, ated, ating, ater, ator, ately, ateness, ation, ative1 Presser,
&c.
repressed,
suppressor,
.
pressure,
impression,
atory, able, ably, ableness, ability, ty's, ties, ties'.
pressed,
re-impress, &c. repression,
suppression,
Ant, antly, ance, ancy, ancy's, ancies, ancies',
pressive,
compress,
express,
&c.
Ful, fully, fuln ess.
press
ion,
compression,
&c.
expression,
insuppress,
Fy, fies, fiest, fied, fying, fier, fication, cative, cator.
pressingly,
uncompress,
oppress,
&c.
Al, ally, alness, alism, alist, ality, ty's, &c.
depress!
uncompressed,
oppressor,
unsuppressed,
Ize, ized, izin g, ization, ism, ic, izable.
d.epress1011, &c. &c.
oppression, &c.
&c.
Oas, ously, ousness, osity, ity, y, ty.
Ive, ively, iveness, ivity.
EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.
lle, ilely, ileness, ility.
· Write a list of words derived from the following words, or
The English language has, in many instancef", two sets roots:
of derivative words, expressive of th e same thing, the one Faith.
Fear.
Lu de.
Sign.
of Saxon and the other of Latin origin. Thus,
, Health.
Shame.
Join.
Jure.
Pity.
Respect.
Real.
Marry.
LATIN,
SAXON.
LATIN.
SAXON.
.
Hope.
Create.
Large.
Merge.
Altitude.
Height,
Timid.
Fearful,
Fine.
Form.
Tend.
Exanimate. ·.:Mercy.
Lifeless,
Velocity.
Swiftness,
. Art. ·
Scribe.
Fense.
Stand.
A 11 nu al.
Yearly,
Effem inate.
vVomani sh,
' Care.
Argue.
l\fove.
Run.
Aqueous.
Edifice.
'Vale ry,
Building,
Need.
Sense.
Spect.
Ply.
Auditor.
Hearer,
Paucity.
Fewness,
5"

54

ENGLISH COllIPOSITION.

AIDS TO

1\Jount.
Open.
Peace.
Potent.
Prefer.
Presume.
Proper.
Pure.
Reason.
.M otion.
Rebel.
Remark.
Represent.
Secret.
Spirit.
Subscribe.
Suffice.
Teach.
Tolerate.
Trndition.
Tremble.
Value.
Vapor.
Vivid.
Wit.

in the English lnngunge there are many instances of words,
"' derived from different sources, expressive of precisely the
satne idea. Thus, the words swiftness and velocity, woman. isft and effeminate, building and edifice; fewness and paucity,
.brot!terly and fraternal, f atlierly and paternal, mot!terly and
maternal, yearly and annual, !teig!tt and altitude, are words
of precisely the same import.
.
· Al~hough, with exceptions of the kind just enumerated,
the words strictly synonymous are few, yet it is often the
·· case, that one word of similar meaning may be substituted
In a sentence for another, without materially altering the
idea
intended to be expressed. Thus, in the sentence,
1
;.: "I design to sfiow the difference in these words," the word
· .design may be · changed into intend, purpose, propose, ot
" mean; thus:
I desig1i to show the difference in these words.
I intend to show the difference in these words.
I purpose, propose, or mean, to show the difference, &c.
.The word sfto10 may, in like manner, be changed into ex. plain, point out, or illustrate ; the word difference may be
changed into distinction, and expressions may. be substituted
· for words, without materially altering the meaning of the
sentence.
. Such exercises as these give a command of language to
. the student, and are of great use as a preparation for exer, · cises in prose, as well as verse. But to the poet especially,
a familiar acquaintance with expressions of similar meaning
· is absolutely indispensable. Confined as he is to certain
:: rules, it is often the case, that a long word must be substiLESSON XIX.
, tuted for a short one, or a short one for a long, in order to
produce the necessary succession of syllables to constitute
SYNONYMES.
the measure, or the harmony, of his verses.
Synonymes are words having precisely the ~ame mean.ing.
· It has been stated, that few words are strictly synonymous.
The number of words, in any language, wl11ch are strictly
Although, in the sentence just recited, namely, "I design
synonymous are few ; but, as was stated in the last lesson, • to show the difference in these words," it has been observed,
--------------------------•
that the words intend, purpose, propose, or mean, may be
1
* The origin of this word is the Latin verb Jac!o and its ~upine factum, ,· substituted for design, without materially altering the sense,
which signifies to make, to do., or to cause, and it enters, 1!1 s?me form, ·. yet it must be understood, that the words themselves are
into the composition of more than five hundred of our 1"nghs~1 words. .
The word pono and its supine positum furni sh 250 words; phco, 200;
· really different in meaning.
The word design properly sigf ero and labtm, 198; specio, 177; mitto and missmn, 171· ; lcueo and tentum, ' 1• nifies to mark out, as with a pencil; purpose signifies to set
1G8; capio and captum, 1p1; tcnrlo, ten.m m, rir~d tentmn, Hi;; rlu;~ and d11ctum,
b ,/
,
. d
b.
if
.
. .fi
l5G. logos (from t.he (.reek Jangnarrc). rnr,; p;rnpho, J.J'.2. J hr.sc twelve ~ fbOre ones mm
as an o !]ect o pursuit; mean s1gm es
words enter in some shape, into th~ co111position of nearly 2fJOO English .•:• •.to. ftave in lite mind; propose, properly implies to o_ffer,

Range.
Create.
Pose.
Graphic.
Fae and
Factum.""
Divide.
Improve.
Profess.
Succeed.
Deduce.
Defend.
Resolve.
Calumny.
Arm.
Peace.
Love.
Laugh.
Right.
Good.
Idol.
Law.
Author.
Contract.
Present.
Attend.

Mo<lerate.
Virtue.
Use.
Presume.
Separate.
Critic.
False.
Fire.
Full.
Frolic.
Fortune.
:Multiply.
Note.
Conform.
Hinder.
llook.
Apply.
Append.
Absolve.
Abridge.
Answer.
Aspire.
Pride.
Blame.
llless.
Caprice.

Censure.
Caution.
Cite.
Commune.
Conceal.
Correct.
Reform.
Defy.
Define.
Discover.
Elect.
Elevate.
Fancy.
Faction.
Fault.
Favor.
Figure.
Form.
Fury.
Grace.
Harm.
Humor.
Imitate.
Indulge.
Moral.

55

words. Frdm 154 Greek and Latin primitives, nearly 13,000 English wor~s
arc derived, or are affected in their signification. Sec Towne's Analysu
-0f D erivative l-Vords.

56

AIDS TO
I

a11cl intnul expresses lite bending rif t!te mind imoard an;,
object.*
v
The worcls difficulties , embm·rassmenls, and troubles nre of.,
ten used as words of precisely similar signifi c ation ; but then~:
is, in reality, considerable difference in th e ir s ignification,
The three tmms are all applicable to a perso n's concerns in
life, but difficulties relate to the facility of ac complishing auundertaking, and imply, that it is not easily don e. Entfmr·
ra ssrnents re late lo the confusion attending a state of de bt, .
' and trouble to th e pain which is the natural consequence of
not fulfilling engagements or answerin g de m ands. or the
three worcls, dijjiculties ex presses the le ast, a1HI troubles, the
most. "A young man, 011 his e ntrance into th e world, will
unavoidably experi ence diffi culties , if not provided with am-·
pie means in the outset. But, let hi s mea ns be ever so am~
pie, if he hav e n ot prudence and talents fitt ed for business,
he will har<ll y k ee p hilll self fr ee from cmbarrnss111c11ls, which
are th e grea test troubles that can arise to di sturb the peace
of a man's mind."
The words difficulty, obstacle, and impedim ent, although
frequently used as synonymous, have nice di stinctions in
th e ir meanings. DUficulty , as has alreacly been observed,
relates to the ease with which a thing is done ; obstacle signifi es the thin g which st ands in t!te way between the pe rson
and th e object he has in view; and impediment signifies the
thing which c11ta11g les t11efect. All of these terms include
in th e ir signifi cation, that which inte rferes e ither with the
actions or views of men. Th e difft:culty li es most in the nature and c ir c um stan ces of th e thing itself; th e obstacle and
impediment consist of that which is c:rternal or foreign;
th e difficulty interferes with the completion of any \\' ork;
th e obstacle interferes with the attainment of any end; the
impediment interrupts the progress and prevents the execution of one's wishes ; th e d~ffim lt.71 em barrnsscs ; it suspends
the powe rs of actin g or dec idin g ; the obst adc opposes itself; it is properly met iu th e way, and interv e nes betll'een
us and our object; the impediment shackl es and puts a stop
to our proceedin g ; we spea k of e ncounter ing a dijfiwlty,
surmounting an obstacle, and removing an impediment; we
* The s tud e nt who wi s hes a full e r expla na t io n o f th e diffe re nce het\\'een
th es e word s is r.cfe rr.e d to t hat .vc•ry ralnahl? work. e n title d , " F.11glish
S y n o ny m eR cxp la111 c d 111 i\lphahc t1 c:d Ordrr, with cn 111 11 11 " llln strnt in 11 s and
Examples drawn from th e best Writers, uy Ueor 0" e Crau u of 1\Ja.,<lalcn
0

Hall, Oxford ."

'

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

57

go ihrougli difficulty, ove1· nn obstacle, and pnss ~y impediments. The disposition of the mind often occas10ns more
difficulties in negotiations, than the subjects themselves; the
• tlloquence of Demosthenes was the greatest obstacle, which
"Philip of Macedon experienced in his political career ;
·· ignorance in the language is the greatest impedinle11t which
~ a foreigner experiences in the pursuit of any object out o(
~. his own country.
· The following instances show a difference in the meaning
of words reputed synonymous, and point out the use of attending, with care and strictness, to the exact import of
words .
._ . Custom, !tabit. Custom respects the action ; habit, tHe
. actor. By custom, we me an the frequent repetition of the
' same act; by habit, the effect which that repetition produces on the mind or body. By the custom of walking often
in the streets, one acquires a habit of idleness.
·
Pride, vanity. Pride makes us esteem ourselves; vanity
. makes us desire the esteem of others. It is just to say, that
a man is too proud to be vain.
. llaug!ttiness, disdain. Haughtiness is founded on the
high opinion we entertain of ourselves; disdain, on the low
opinion we have of others.
Only, alone. Only imports, that there is no other of the
Mme kincl; alone imports being accompanied by no other.
. An ·only child is one that has neither brother nor sister ; a
child alone is one who is left by itself. There is a differ. ence, therefore, in precise language, between these two
phrases : "Virtue only makes us happy;" and "Virtue
alone makes us happy."
TVisdom, p1·udence. ·wisdom leads us to speak and act
what is most proper. Prudence prevents our speaking or
, acting improperly.
Entit·c, complete. A thing is entire when it wants none
of its parts; complete when it wants none of the appendages
that belong to it. A man mny have an entire house to him,.., self, and yet not have one complete apartment.
·
Surprised, astonished, amazed, confounded. · I am sur'p rised with what is new or unexpected; I am astonished at
". what is vast or great; I am amazed at what is incompre. hensible; I am confound ed by what is shocking or terrible.. Tranquillity, pr.nee, calm. Tranquillity respects a situation free from trouble, considered in itself; peace, the same
situation with respect to any causes that might interrupt it;

58

--~---------,... . . £"'
.-- ----------~~--------·-·-

59

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COllIPOSITION.

cairn, with regard to a disturbe<l situation gomg
following it. A good man enjoys trnnquillity, in himself; ·
peace, with others; an<l cnlm, after a storm.
,
In a similar manner, differences can be pointed oul in the
words conquer, vanquislt, subdue, overcome, and surmount,
~Ullf(llf! r signifies to seek or try to gain an object; va11q11isl1 .
implies the binding of an individual; subdue sign ifics lo give
or put under; overcome expresses the coming over or gelling
the uuistery over one ; s1tr11w1ml signifies to 11ww1.t over or to
rise above any one. Perso ns or thin gs arc co11'111ererl or sub.
dual; pernons, only, are vanquished. An en e my or<\ country is conquered; a foe is vanquished; people are sululucd;
prejudices and prepossess ions are overcome; obstacl es are
surmounted. We conqur.r an e nemy by whatev e r mean s we
gain th e mastery over him; we vmup1ish him, when by force
we make him yield; we sul)(!ll r: him by whatever means we
check in him the spirit of re sistance. A Christian tries to
conquer his enemies by kin<ln ess and generosity; a warrior
tries to vanquish them in the fi eld; a prudent monarch
tries to subdue his rebel subjects by a due mixture of clemency and rigor. One may be vanquislied in a single battle;
one is subdued only by the most violent and perse~· ering
measures.
William the First conquered England by vanq11islii11{{ his
rival, Harold ; after which he cornpletely subdued the Eng·
lish.
Vanquish is use <l only in its proper sense; conquer and
subdue ar e lik ew ise employed fi g urativ ely , in which sense
they ar e analogous to overcome and s111"mmmt. That is con-"
qucrcd and subdued which is in the miu<l; that is ot•crcome
and surmounted which is either inte rnal or external. \Ve
conquer and overcome what makes no great resi stance; we
subdttc and surmount what is viol e nt and stro11rr in it:-i oppo·
s ition. Dislikes , attachments, and feeling s ir~ general, either for or ngainst, are conq1tcrcrl; unruly a111l t11mult11011s ·
pass ions are to be su bdued; a ma11 c011q11crs him se lf; he subdues his spirit. On e c01UJ11fTS by ordinary means and cf.
forts, one su bdues by extraordinary means. It requires determination and force to conquei· and overcome ; patience
and pe rseve rance to subdue an<l surmount. 'Vhoever aims
at Christian pe rfection mn st strive with God's ass istance to
conq uer avarice, pri<le, and every inor<linate propensity; to
subdue wrath, anger, lu st, an<l every carnal app e tit e , to .
overcome tem ptations, to vanquish the tempter, and to sur-·
mount trials an<l impe<lime uts, which oustruct his course.

- . The nice distinctions which exist among some words
· commonly reputed synonymous having now been pointed
out, the student may proceed to the exercises of this Lesson
. according to the following
l\IODEL.

Write a Ii.st. of words which have a similar meaning with
the words. vzswn, way, formerly, weaken, unimportant, sec,
and think.
Vision, apparition, phantom, spectre, ghost.
Way, manner, method, mode, course, means.
'" · Formerly, in times past, in old times, in days of yore an'
".. ciently, in ancient times.
_Weaken, enfeeble, debilitate, enervate, invalidate.
. · Uni1nporta11t, insignificant, imn1aterial, inconsiderable.
See, perceive, observe, behold, look at.
· Think, reflect, ponder, muse, imagine, suppose believe
"'
'
deem, con::1'd er.
. T.he st~den~ may now write similar lists of words having
s1gmficat1011s m common with the followi11g words.
Abjure.
Abolish.
Abscond.
Absolute.
, ·Absolve.
Abstinent.
Accede.
Acciden tn I.
Accomplis h.
Accuse.
Add.
Agree.
Amend.
Appropriate.
Assembly.
Attempt.
, Averse.
... Bare.
· Battle.
Beautiful.
··Blame.
, Blot.
f·
. Bound.

Calculate.
Give.
Loose.
Captious.
Govern.
Maritime.
Carnage.
Gracious.
Maxim.
Censure.
Grieve.
.Mean.
Changeable. Hardhearted. Mental.
Class.
Heretic .
Mix.
Compensation. Hinder.
Mutilate.
Contaminate. Honor.
Noise.
Conti11uc.
Idle.
Overbear.
Cultivation.
Impe rfection. Outward.
JJisn<lvantage. Implant.
Partake.
Disorder.
Implacable.
Perish.
Dregs.
Incapable.
Place.
Encourage.
Increase.
Possessor.
E11joyment.
Intellect.
Possible.
E specially.
Irregular.
Pov e rty.
Execute.
Kindred.
Prayer.
Ecstasy.
Kill.
Prince.
Find.
Laughable.
Quickness.
Fortunate.
Lightness.
Reproach.
Foster.
Likeness.
Restoration.
Foundation. Livelihood . , Secret.
Free.
Li rely.
Shake.

AIDS TO

60

ENGLISH COllIPOSITION.

A burnlant.
Doom.
Surprise.
Sprea<l.
Sparkle.
Distant.
Change.
Strengthen.
Temporary.
Scrutiny .
Anger.
Talkative.
Way.
"'vVarmth.
Company.
Trouble.
Employ.
Abandon.
Join.
Unspeakable.
Constitute.
Serious.
S ee.
Violent.
Becoming.
Integrity.
Erase.
'Vander.
Attachment.
Indol
ent.
Purchase.
Wish.
Assail.
Acquaint.
Alter.
Spot.
•Assert.
Jn
form.
Lucid.
Color.
Commonly.
Invest.
S ecrete.
Defend.
Shelter .
.Mention.
Consume.
Accuse. ·
Frustrate.
Perceive.
Define.
Detest.
Substitute a synonyme whiclt will express the same, or
nearl_y the same i;lea, witlt t!te words in Italic in the fulluw·
ing sentences.
l\lODEL.

Fortune
Fortune
Fortune
Fortune
Fortune
Fortune

is changeable.
is mutable.
is variable.
is inconstant.
is.fickle.
is. versatile.
EXAl\IrLES FOR PRACTICE.

61

Youth 1s not abundant in time, - it may be indigent.
art with it as with money, sparing. Pay no moment but
in purcltase of its worth, nn<l if you would asce1·tain its
·worth, inquire of death-beds, they can inform.
.• When dunces call us fools without proving us to be so,
' our best retort is to prove them to be fools without conde) ce'ltding to call them so.
· ' ' Pedantry crams our heads with learned lumbc1·, and
: ,takes out our brains to make room for it.
-;;:~ . '

.r In t!te following sentences some of the words are misapplied. T!te student zs required to substitute tlie prope1·
word.
·:·-;.. _I heard a lm·ge noise, which, though made at a big dis• ,tD,nce, must have been made by a very great animal.
,: The work is ca11ablc of great improvement, although it
.~ was written by a very susceptible man.
, ','ii · Much men were present, and their united voices caused
'! many con fusion.
' ~" Franklin f1·amcd the fact that lightning is caused by
electricity. Sir Isaac Newton discov ered the telescope.
· Solon invented a new set of laws for the city of Athens.
~' · A wicked man fabricates sorrow for his sins, and often
. feigns an excuse for his crimes.
·.·" The book has many vices, but the defect is not in the au; thor, who has sufficiently shovrn his abhorrence of faults.
\ I know the man and arn acquainted with his faults. We
.are agreeably amazed to see our friends returning so soon.
rWe are surprised that they accomplished their business so
'early, as well as astonis!ted at the unexpected events which

I have no desire for wealth.
Soldiers protect the city from the clanger of captw·e.
I bought this knife at ~ bool~store .
.
She has expressed her uleas m a very lucul manner.
H e is a man of intellect.
I design to show the diffc1·ence in these words.
The Nile annually deluges Egypt.
The army has overrun the country.
Pov erty is fr equently a blessing in disguise.
W ealth and want are both temptatious. The former
clteris!tes pride, the latter pruduces discontent.
The sun sheds abroa<l his golden rays, and .fills the earth
with his vivifying influence.
.,
I have no occasion for hi;; services, and am, therefore;
unwilling to receive them.
·
How loved, how valued once, avails thee not,
To whom related, or by who111 begot ;
A heap of du st is all remains of thee,
'T is all thou art, and all the proud shall be.

. nearly threatened their ruin.
· We often know the spot where a thing is, but it is not
· easy to find out the exact place where it happened.
When dis sensions arise among n e ighbours, their passions
often interfere to hinder accommodations; when members
'. of a family consult interest or humor, rather than affection,
·. there will necessarily be vm·iances; and when many mem; bers of a community have an equal liberty to express their
· opinions, there will necessarily be disagreements .
. i.
A misplaced economy in people of property is low, but
, swearing and drunkenness are meaner vices.
::;: We perform many duties only as the occasio1J offers, or
,as the opportunity requires.
-. ,, It is the duty of a person to gouern those who are under
6

62

him in all matters wherein they are i11compcte11l to
themselves.
Fashion and caprice regulate the majority as the time
one clock rules that of many others.
Exuberance of imagination nnd luxuriance of intellect
are the greatest gifts of which a poet cnn boast.
We may be eminent and illustrious for things good, bad,
or indifferent; we may be distinguisher! for our singulari·
ties; we may be conspicuous for that which is t.hc subject
of vulgar discourse; but we can be distinguis!ted ouly for
that which is really good and praiseworthy.
Lovers of fame are sometimes able to render themselves
eminent for their vices or absurdities, but 11ot.hi11g is more
gratifying to a man than to render hi1nsclf illustrious for
his professional skill. It is the lot of few to be noted, and
these few are seldom to be c11vicd.
-...v ater and snow amass by the continual accession of
fresh quantities; the ice accumulates iu the river until it is
frozen over.
The industrious man amasses guineas and accumulates
wealth.
France has long been celebrated for its !tealt!t; a11d manJ
individuals resort thither for the benefit of their salubi·ity.
The places destined for the education of youth should be
salutary; the diet of the young healthy rather than deli·
cate, nnd in all the ir disorders, cnrc shoul<l be taken to ad·
minister the most wlwlcsomc remedi e s.
A nation may be extravagant of its resources, and a gov·
ernment may be profuse of the public money; but no indi·
vidual should be lavish of what is not his own, nor prodig
of what he gives another.
There are but few remar.kablc things; but many things
are extraordinary .
. A man may have a distaste for his ordinary occupations
without any apparent cause; an<l after lo11rr illness he will
frequently take a dislike to the food or the a~usemcnt whid
before afforded him pleasure.
It is good to suppress unfounded disgusts; it is diflicul
to overcome a strong dislike; and it is advisable to diver
our attention from objects calculated to create distaste.*

63

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

LESSON

XX.

VARIETY OF EXPRESSION.

Metliods of Invc1·sion and Transposition.
The same idea may be expressed in a great variety of
• ways by the methods of inversion and transposition sug~ gested in the following models.
;. · ·

MODEL I.

" 7 By

changing a.ctive verbs into passive, and the contrary;
thus, By tlic active verb. A multitude of delirrhted
guests
0
• soon fille.d the pl~~es of those who refused to come. By
the passive verb. I he places of those who refused to come
• ~e:e soon filled by a multitude of delighted guests.
MODEL II.

.

' " , By using the case absolute, instead of the nominative
cas~ and ~ts verb, and the contrary; ns, T!te class liaving
recited tliezr lessons, the teacher dismissed them. T!te class
.recited t!tcfr lessons and the teacher dismissed the1:n. Of
: these two sent:-nces the former is preferable, because it preserves the u111ty of the sentence, which requires that the
,subject or nominative should be changed as little as possi.: ble during the course of the sentence. Another recom,. mendation of the former expression is, that it throws out
. the conjunction, which should never be unnecessarily introduced into a sentence.
l\lODEL

Ill.

Infinitive mood or substantive and participial p!trases in-

·• these are not, technic11!ly sp~nking, to be co~sidered ns synony~ous,
they may be here ment10ned m order to caution the student with regar~ to the ~se of tl.1em. The verbs lie nnd lay, nlso, although entire., ly d1fferen~ m meanmg, have some parts in common, which are frequently misused. The teacher who wishes for exercises of this kind
be corrected by the pupil, will find n lnrge collection of them in ~
httle work recently published by a distinguished teacher of this city
entitled" The .Companion to Spelling Books, in which the Orthogra~
• phy and Meaning of many thousand Words, most liable to be mis·
1pel.Ied and r:nisused, nre impressed upon the Memory by e. regular
* yvords are. s~m e ti;nes similar in sound, altho11g-h different in
Benes of Wntten Exercises.' The work is by that eminent teacher
sp~lhng and S1gm~cat10n . . Such are the words sight, cite, and site;
'
raise and raze; aisle and isle; scent, cent, and sent, &c. Although , Mr. William B. Fowle.

· i?

-

.11. .
64

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COJ\IPOSITION.

65

stead of nominative or ulvectivc nuuns, anrl lite rwc1·se;
MODEL VIII.
His having bee n unfortunate is no disgrace; instead
His misfortunes are no disgrace.
~ '~·· The infinitive changed into an objective noun; . as, Canst
Diligence, industry, and proper improvement of time are. .!thou expect to escape the hand of vengeance? Canst thou
material duties of the young; or, To be diligent, industri·.
expect an escape from the hand of vengeance?
ous, and properly to improve time are mate rial duties of the
. Or into a .finite verb witlt its nominative; as, Canst thou
young.
expect that thou s!talt escape the hand of vengeance 7
MODEL IV.

MODEL IX.

By tlte negation or ajfinnation of t!te cunlrw·y; as, Solon
~;-'Participial nouns conve1·ted into common nouns, and the
the Athenian effected a great clta11ge in the government of
contrary; as, Providence alone can order t!te changing of
his country. Solon th e Athenian effected no small change.
.
.times
and seasons. Providence alone can order tlte changes
in the government of his country.
'
of
times
and seasons.
The beauty of the earth is as conspicuous as the gran·'
MODEL X.
deur of the heavens. The Lcauty of the earth 1s not less
conspicuous than the grandeur of the heavens.
1'he change of the verb, an arijective, 01· an adverb, into
a noun and the contrary ; and tlte conversion of a noun into
MODEL V.
a pronoun; as, Idleness, ease, and prosperity tend to genBy reversing the corresponding parts of tlte sentence, with
.erate folly and vice. The tendency of idleness, ease, and
a negative adverb; as, Th e grandeur of the heavens is not . , prosperity is to generate folly and vice. Idleness, ease, and
more conspicuous than the beauty of the earth.
· prosperity have a tendency toward the generation of folly.
T!te negation of tlte contrary. The beauty of the earth . Folly and vice are too generally the consequences of idleis not less conspicuous than the grandeur of the heavens. · . " ness, ease, and prosperity .
By a comparison. There is as much beauty in the earth, · : Simple language always pleases most. Simplicity of language always pleases most. 'Ve please most when we
as there is grandeur in the heave ns.
speak simply.
By an c1plctive clausf. There is
· Those persons who, &c. They who, &c.
earth than grandeur in the heaven s.
MODEL XI.

l\IODEL VI.

By changing tlie participial phrases into a personal verb
witlt a conjunction; as, Charles, having been deprived of
the help of tutors, neglected his studies. Charles was deprived of the help of tutors, and therefore he ucglectcd his
studies.
MODEL VII.

C!tange of t!te nominative and verb into an i11finilivd
phrase ; as, He sacrificed his future ease and reputation
tltat lte might eru'oy present plea sure. He sacrificed his
future ease and reputation to enjoy present pleasure.

.

The conversion of an active or a passive verb into a neu-

.. ter ve1·b witlt an arljective; as, Sobriety of mind suits the
present state of man.
: present state of man.

Sobriety of mind is suitable to the
MODEL XII.

By the conversion of a declaration into an obligation, with
corresponding change of words.
,.. Declaration. Man's present slate renders sobriety of
mind highly becoming.
~· Obligation.
Man in his present state should be char~
!J.Cterized by sobriety of mind.
(I

6*

-66

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.
MODEL XV.

MODEL XIII.

By a noun in apposition to avoid the use of the
tion and. Hope is the sustainer of the mind, and supports .
us under many a burden. Hope, the sustainer of the mind, ,;
supports us under many a burden.
MODEL XIV.

67

Resolution of tltc pe1·sonal p1·onoun, wit!t t!te conjunction .. and into tlte relative pronoun ; thus, we can learn a les\. son of resignation, and it will prepare us for that happy
home where the weary arc at rest. \Ve can learn a lesson
of resignation, rvlticlt will prepare us for that happy home
where the weary are at rest.
MODEL XVI.

By tlte preposition and its objective case, insfuul uf t!te
possessive; as, The moon's mild radiance and the sun's
. By the use of the present or perfect participle instead of
, the verb ; as, 1-Ic was called to the exercise of the supreme
resplendent brightness are objects which, &c. The mild·
power at a very early age, and evinced a great knowledge of
radiance of the moon and the resplend e11t brightness of the
' ~overnment and laws, and was regarded by mankind with a
sun,'*' &c.
respect which is seldom bestowed on one so young.
Tlw repetition ef and t avoided by t!tc use of t!tc preposiIn this sentence the use of the participles removes one
tion; as, God has given us se nses to enjoy all th ese beautiful objects, and rea son to guide us in the use of them . God
of the conjunctions, which young writers are very apt to
\ repeat unnecessarily ; thus, Called to the exercise of the
has given us senses to enjoy all these beautiful objects, with
reason to guide us in the use of them.
supreme power at a very early age, and evincing a great
knowledge of government and laws, he was regarded by
B.1/ the use of the potential mode instead of the it~fini:tive ;
mankin<l with a respect which is seldom bestowed on one
God has given us senses that we may enjoy all these beautiful objects, with reason, &c.
so young.
r For th e sake of c111plwsis, 01· to gratify a taste for singuAn infinitive phrase instead of a nominative noun; To ·
larity, some writers have adopted the poetical style in prose,
do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly, are duties .
placing the verb before its nominative; thus, VV hen we go,
enjoined by Christianity. Justice, mercy, and humility,
for go we must, &c . Proceed we now to the second subare duties enjoined by Christianity.
- ject of our consir.leration. Recognize we here the hand of
1'/ic negativ e adv erb with tlie ro1!j1mdion but; \Ve can
an Almighty power.
observe the exquisite sk ill of the Artificer in all that we _
In some instances, perhaps not strictly proper, we find
see around us. vVe cannot but observe the ex11uisite skill . -the definite article placed before the relati ve pronoun; as,
of the Artificer in all that we see around us.
,
These things, tlte wliit!t you have seen and understood, &c.
It is to be remarked, that although some examples have
It is to be observed, that in all the changes sug~ested in
been given, in which the participial noun is used, yet when '
the fo1egoing mod els, th ere mu st be some slight change in
there is a common noun from the same root, of similar
the idea, hut still the identity of the thought is sufficiently
meaning, the participial noun should be avoided. Thus,,
preserved in nil the cl1a11 ges suggested.*
" The habit of deceiving" is not so elegant an expression
--- -- - - -- - - - - as " Habits of deception."
-- -~ - ----~-

~--- -

* U 111.ler the head of variet y of eJ:prcssion, may be noticed
some few peculiarities and improprieties, wh ich are sometimes
heard, especially in colloquial intercourse, and which, in some inetahces, are not noticed by any grammatical authority . And first, the
" ;It is deemed verY. in elegant t? c?nstruct a se ntenc e with rmny possess ive noun s, or with . many objectives governed by the preposition of.
improper use of if for whether, as follows ; "Sh e asked me if I would
Thus, the sentence, The extent of the prerogativ e of th e Kin g of England ·
·. go with h e r." It should be," She asked me whether I would go," &c.
or The King of England's prerogative's extent, would be bette r expressed . · , Again, The improper use of me for myself, and of you for vourself.
thus, The extent of the King of England's prerogative .
As, I am going to wnsh me. Do you intend to wash you? it should
t The u~e of the conjunction and may often he avoided by dividing Jong
he myself and yourself. Again, The use of as for that; as, I do not
sentences 111to short ones.
know as I shall go. I do not know as I could tell when . It should
' - he that. I do not know that I shall go. I do not know that I could
~~~~ ~-- - ~~~~~~~--~~~~~~~~~~-

68

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

Examples for Practice on ilie principles of lite foregoing .,·
models.
·
Providence alone can order the changing of times and .
seasons.
1~
- - - - - t.

tell when. Again, The use of any and got with a n egative; ns, (.
have not got any book. It would be belt.er to say, I have n o book. I
Such words as fetch for bring, sweat for perspiration, nnd many others ~
of similar character, are considered, to say th e leas t, ine lega nt, and
are to be avoided. The word so is sometimes heard in use for there· '·
fore; as, Charles did n ot wish to go, so I did not urge him . It should
be, Charles did not wish to go, t!tercfure I did not urge him. Other is "
sometimes improperly followed by but instead of than ; as, I saw no :
other but him. It should be, I saw no other titan him. \V e some-:·1
times h ear the demonstrative pronoun imprope r! y used for the personal ~
pronoun; as, Those who hear must obey. It should be, Th ey who hear''
must obey. We sometimes hear such expressions as this : I know of.
hardly [or scarcely] a passage, &c. It would be better to say, I know ;
of no passage, &c. The past tenses of the word lay (to place) are ·
ve ry fr equen tly and improperly used for the correspondin g te nses of '
lie (to lie down) . Thus, The water laid in the pool. It shou ld be , lay '
in the pool. You have laid abed too long . It should be , You have .'
lain, &c. Again, We frequently find a want of correspondence in "
the different parts of a se ntence , as follows: ll c <lid not me ntion Leo· 1
nora, nor that her father was dead. lt is better to say, He <lid not
me ntion Leonora, nor the death of her father. These expressions fall
under grammatical rule.
.
Tn sen tences where the negative adverb occurs, it should be fo(. '
lowed by th e n egative conjunction. Thus, "Thou canst not tell .
whence it cometh and whither it goeth," should be, Thou canst not '
tell whence it cometh nor whither it goeth.
In th e use of prepositions we find many manifest improprieties.
As no certain rule can be laid down with regard to th em, a few ex·
amples are presen te d, to show what prepositions may be prope rly used
with certain words. It may, however, be r e marked that the same ·,,
preposition that follows a verb or adverb, should generally follow the .\
noun, &c. which is derived from it, as, confide in , confidence in; dis·
posed to tyrannize, a disposition to tyranny, &c.
·l
Accuse of falsehood.
.Accused by his friend.
Acquit of.
Adapted to.
Agreeable to.
A verse to.
Ilestow upon.
Iloast or brag of.

Call on.
Change for.
Confide in.
Conformable to.
Compliance with.
Consonant to .
Conversant with" a
person, in a thing.

Dependent upon.
Derogation from.
Die of or by.
Differ from.
Difficulty in.
Diminution of.
Disappointed in or of.!. ·
Disapprove of.

" Addison has," conversant among the writing•," &,c., ancl," conversant ;
c:encrally speaking," co nversant wit.It" is prefer. ~
able
'Y
. ~ We are disappoi~ted of a thing when we do not get it; and disappointed ,
in 1t, when we have 1t, and find that 1t does not answer our expectations.

about worldly affairs."

69

. Can you expect to be exempted from these troubles which

all must suffer 1
, .'· Earth shall claim thy growth, to be resolved to earth
' again.
.. That I may convince you of my sincerity, I will repeat
~ the assertion.
; Sobriety of mind is not unsuitable to the present state
of man.
He had 110 little <lifliculty in accomplishing tho under·
" taking.
" A large part of the company were pleased with his remarks.
·' ;' Hope sustains the mind.
· , .The beauties of nature are before us, an<l invite us to
··: contemplate the power, the wis<lom, and the benevolence
of that great and good Ilei11g at whose word they sprang
up, and presented them selves as proper objects of our admiration, and our gratitude.
The elephant took the child up with his trunk, and
placed it upon his back, aud would uever af.lerward obey
any other master.
/ ". I have frequently paused in the wilderness, and contem:1plated the traces of a whirlwind, and wondered at the
· mighty force of that invisible power, which roots up the
·, stupendous oak and lofty pine, and spreads ruin and desola/ tion over the fair face of nature.
· ·: The celestial vault, the verdure of the earth, and the
Discouragement to .
Dissent from.
Eager in.
Engaged in.
Exception from.
Expert at or in.
Fall under.
• Free from .
Glad of or at.*
·. lndep~n de nt of or on.
Insist upon.
.

Made of.
l\larry to.
Martyr for.
Need of.
Observance of.
Prrjudice against.
Profit by.
Provide Mith, for, or

against.
R eco ncile to.
R eplete with.

R esemblance to.
Resolve on.
R ed uce under or to. t
R egard to or for.
Swerve from.
Taste of or for. t
Think of or on.
True lo.
Wait on.
Worthy of.§

.

• "Glad of," when the cause of joy is something gained or possessed;
and" glad at," when something befalls another; as, "Jonah was glad of
the ~ourd;" " Il e that is glad at calamities," &c .
. ·: t 'Reduce mu/a" is to conquer or subdue.
t A taste of a thing, implies actual enjoyment of it; but a taste for it,
· implies only a capacity for enjoyment; as," When we hav~ had n taste of
the pleasures of virtue, we can have no taste for th ose of vice."
§ Many of these words sometimes take other prepositions after them, to
express various meanings· thus, for example, " Fall in, to comply ; "
"Fall njf, to forsake;" "Fall 0111, to happen; " " Fall upon, to attack ; "
"Fall to," to begin eagerly," &c.

70

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clear silvery light which <lancc<l on the. surface of the
stream, <lelighte<l my eyes, and restored JOY to my heart,
and gave animation to my spirits, and conveyed ]~leasure~.
to my mind, which exceeded the powers of e~1ness1011. . .
He raised his eyes, and turned to th~ prn~ce an~l said, ," Your highness will remember the fid elity with winch my
father has served you, and I s~ppose. th.at you will pardon~
my presumption in thus appearmg un1.11v1te<l at your co.urt, ,
and I humbly crave permission to supplicate that protect10n, .
which it is so easy for you to afford, arn! so necessary. to me .
that it should be bestowed. The enemies of our fannly are.
power ful, and are of noble blood, and nre allic<l Ly peculiar 1
ties to your highness, and may th erefore be supposcc..I to.'
have higher claims to your favor. But_I know tha~ gene.r- '
osity to be a charac~eristi~ ?f your l11 g hn ess_, "·In c h Wiii ~
disregard the suggest.1011s ol 111lerest, and def eat the nefa- ;
rious plans of artful dcpe1Hle11ts, and afford su_c~ottr. to the· .
persecuted peasant, rather than countenance lllJUSt1ce and
oppression."
.
.
.
•
I fixe<l my eyes on different ob.1ects, an<l I .soon p e rceived .
that I had the power of losing and recove rm g. t he m, ~n<l
that I could at pleasure destroy and re11 ~w tins hc;iut1.ful.·
part of my existence. This n ew and del_1f?htful sensation .'
agitated my frame, and gave ~fres h add1t10n to 11_1y self- ,
love and caused me to rejoice 111 the pleasures of exrntence, ,
and 'filled my heart with gratitude to m y b e n e ficen~ Creator. 1:
Columbus perceived that it would .be of no arnd to . h_ave
recourse to any of his former cxped1e11ls, ;ind found 1t impossible to rekindle any ·zeal for tl1 e s~1cce ss ~f the expe- .
d ition, and endea voure<l to soothe passions, w hie h h? could.·
no longe r command, and gave way lo a torrent too 1mpetu· ·
ous to be checked.
:.:
They erected a crucifix, an<l prostrate~ th ems:Ives he fore ;
it, and gave thanks to God for coududmg th eir voyrige to1
such a happy iss ue.
.
.
He knows that life has many trial s , and believes that
God has appointec..I this world as the pre par_ative for another,
and regards not with feelings of envy or Jealou sy the more.
prospero us condition of others ..
Th e project was received with great applause Ly all the _
company.
. .
Most of the trades, professions, and ways of ltv111g among _'
mankind, take their origin either from the love of pleasure,,
or the fear of want.
·

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

71

· ..,1. Gentleness corrects whatever is offensive in our manners.

~-~ · .~- The places of those who refused to come were soon filled

·'·with a multitude of delighted guests.
.~··: You have pleaded your incessant occupation. Exhibit
' .. then the result of your employment.
·~fr Is the eye of Heaven to be dazzled by an exhibition of
property, an ostentatious show of treasures?
.. -I need not ask thee if that hand, when armec..I, has any
'Roman soldier mauled an<l knuckled.
' In visiting Alexandria, what most engages the attention
of travellers is the pillar of Pompey, as it is called, situated
at a quarter of a league from the southern gate.
/". But the evening is the time to revie w not only our bless; fogs but our actions.
'. ': ·We receive i;:uch repeated intimations of decay in the
World throuuh which WC are passing, decline and change,
' and Joss foll~w decline and change, and loss, in such rapid
succession, that we can almost catch the sound of universal
wasting, and hear the sounc..I of desolation going on around
.us.
-· The battle was concluclecl, anc..I the commander-in-chief
":ordered an estimate of his loss to be made.
· .. ;. • The rectitude of Dryden's mind was sufficiently shown
. by the dismission of his poeti cal pr ejudices, and the rejection of unnatural thoughts and rugged numbers.
, ·The youth who had found the cavern, and had kept the
· secret to himself, loved this damsel. He told her the
··, danger in time anc..I persuaded her to trust herself to him.
, . 1 ·When the ;ubject is such that the very mention of it
." naturally awakens some passionate emotion; or when the
.. unexpected presence of some pers?n or object in ~ P?PU~ar
assembly inflames the speaker, either of these will justify
an abrupt and vehement exordium.
. · Theocritus a11<l Virgil arc th e two great fathers of pastoral
· writinrr. For simplicity of sc11timc11t, harmony of numbers,
· ' and ri~lrness of scenery, the former is highly distinguished.
~ · 1'he latter, on the contrary, preserves the pastoral simplicity
\.Without any offensive rusticity .
·: The relation of sleep to night, appears to have beei1 ex. pressly intended by our benevolent Creator.
, · -The favored child of nature who combines in herself
" these united perfections, may be justly considered the mas. · -,terpiece of creation.

72

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ENGLISH COllIPOSITION.

J ohu was in the school room, aud Charles entered and ,
thus addressed him.
The Monongahela and Alleghany rivers were swollen by
the continued rains; and the Ohio inundated the cities,
towns, and villages on its banks.
['
The trees were cultivated with much care, and the fruit.
was rich and abundant.
,
The love of praise is naturally implante<l i11 our Losoms, .
and it is a very diflicult task to get aLove a desire of it,
even for things that should be indiflcrent.
The rain poured in torrents upon us, and we were .
obliged to take shelter in a forest.
Offences and retaliations succeed each other in endless ·
strain, and human life will be rendered a state of perpetual.'
hostilities without some degree of patience exercised under '
injuries.
;,::
His mind was th e prey of evil pass1011s, and
of the most wretched of beings.
The character of Florio was marked with haughtiness ;
and affectation, and he was an object of disgust to all his
acquaintance.
(
The evidence and the sente nce were stated, and the
president put the question whether a pardon should be
granted.
:
Few governments und erstn11d how politic it is to be mer;
ciful; and severity and hard-henrted opinions accor<l with
the temper of the times.
·
The Shenandoah comes up at the right, and the PotomM'.
with its multipli ed waters re nd s th e mountain asunder, and
rushes toward the sea.
f
Nature dressed the scene in th e richest colors and most'
graceful forms, and never could the eye enjoy a richet ·
spectacle.
I travelled through the county of Orange, and my eye
was caught by a cluster of horses ti ed near a rninous, old;
wood en hou se in the forest, not far from the road side.
:.
A general description of the country was given in a
former letter, and I shall now entertain you with my ad':.
ventures.
Ind ee d, if we could arrest time, and strike off the wheels
of his chariot, and, like Joshua, bid the sun stnnd still, and
make opportunity tarry as long as we had occasion for it"
this were something to exc use o nr delay , or at leas t to miti:
gate and abate the folly and unrensonableness of it.
t

OF 'I'IIE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.-

,73

.. ·'l'he · English Language consists of about thirty-eight
thousand words. This includes, of course, not only radical
'words, but all derivatives; except the preterits and participles • of verbs; to which must be ndded some few terms,
~ , which, though set down in the dictionaries, are either obsoJete, or have never ceased to be considered foreign. Of
·these, about twenty-three thousand, or nearly five-eia-hths,
are of Anglo-Saxon origin. The majority of the re~t, in
what proportion we cannot say, are Latin and Greek ·
• Latin, however, has the larger share. The names of th~
greater part of the objects of sense, in other words the
,terms which occur most frequently in discourse, or ~hich
' recall the most vivid conceptions, are Anglo-Saxon. Thus,
· for example, the names of the most striking objects in visible nature, of the chief agencies at work there, and of the
· changes which we pass over it, are Anglo-Saxon. This
: language has given names to the heavenly bodies, the sun,
moon, and stars ; to three out of the four elements earth
' sum-'
.fire, and water; three out of the four seasons, spring,
mer, and winter; and, indeed, to all the natural divisions
·Of time, except one; as, day, night, morning, evening, twilight, noon, midday, midnight, sunrise, sunset; some of
·which are amongst the most poetical terms we have. To
the same language we are indebted for the names of light,
heat, cold, frost, rain, snow, hail, sleet, thunder, lightning,
,, as well as almost all those objects which form the component parts of the beautiful in external scenery, as sea and
land, hill and dale, wood and stream, &c. It is from this
. · language we derive the words which are expressive of the
,. • earliest and dearest connexions, and the strongest and most
powerful f~clings of 11ature; and which are, consequently,
Invested with our oldest and most complicated ai;:sociations.
· It is this language which has given us names for father
· mother, husband, wife, brother, sister, son, daughter, child'
home, kindred, friends. It is this which has furnished u~
~ith the gr~ater part of.those metonymies, and other figuraltve expre.ss1011s! by wl11ch we repr~ se nt to the imagination,
,~nd that 111 a .s111.g le w~rd, th.e reciprocal duties and enjoy~ents of hospitality, fr1endsh1p, or love.
Such are hearth,
•

H The account here given is from the" Rdinburgh Review," of October
1839. See, also, pages 18 to IJ J., on the subject of Derivation.
'

7

74

"
,,!
I

'.1

I

i:

Q•

·ll

·~;
I

',d

'

AIDS TO

roof, fireside. The chief emotions, too, of which we are
susceptible, are expressed in the same language, as love,
hope, fear, sorrow, shame; and, what is of more conse·
quence to the orator and the poet, as well as in common
life, the outward signs by which emotion is indicat ed are
.almost all Anglo-Saxon ; such are tear, smile, blu sh, to
laugh, to weep, to sigh, to groan. Most of those objectsf
about which the practical reason of' 111a11 is e111ployed in
common life, receive their names fr om th e Attglo-Saxon;
It is the language, for the most part, of Lusi11css; of the
counting-house, th e shop, the mark e t, the stree t, the farm I
and, however mi serable the man who is fond of philosophy
or abstract science might be, if he had 110 other vocabulary
but this, we must reco ll ect that lan g ua ge was made not fot .
the few, but the many, aml that portion of it which enables'
the bulk of a nation to express their wants and transact
their affain:, must be considered of at least as much import•
ance to general happin ess, as that which serves th e purpose
of philosophical science. Nearly all our national proverbs1
in which, it is truly sai<l, so much of the practical wisdom
of a nation resid es , and which constitute the rna11ual and'
vade rnecwn of" hobn ail ed " philosophy, are almost wholly
Anglo-Saxon. A very large proportion (and that alway!
the strongest) of the langua ge of invecti ve, humor, satire,
colloquial pleasantry, is Anglo-Saxon. Almost all the t e rm~
and phrases by which we most energetically express anger;
contempt, an<l indi gnat
ion, are of Ancrlo-Saxo11
oricrin.•
-·
0
0
The Latin contributes most large ly to the langua ge of polite .
life, as well as to that of polite literature . Again, it is often
necessa ry to convey ideas, which, though not truly and
properly offens ive in themselves, would, if clothed in the
rough Saxon, appear so to the sensitive mod esty of a hi g hly'
refined state of society; dressed in Latin, these very same
ideas shall seem decent enough. There is a large number
of words, which, from the frequency with which they are
used, and from th eir being so constantly in the mouths of
the vulgar, would not be endured in polished society, though
more privileged synonymes of Latin origin, or some classical
" One of the most distinguished orators and writers of the present age i1
remarkable ~o~ th e Sa~o n for ce and purity of hi s language. He Eeldom'
use.s an. Anglic 1ze<l _Lal1 11 wortl, when a lrnrc Eng li sh expression is at. hand,
This will accoun.t, 111 som e <lcwcc , for l 1e strength of his langnagc and the
vehemenc~ of his style. The rnaclcr scarce ly needs to be inf'orrn ed, that
reference ts here made to th e late Secretary of State, II on. Daniel \Vebs terl

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

75

ci_~cumlocuti?n, expressing exactly the same thing, shall
8!8 unquestioned.
· There may b_e nothing dishonest, nothing really vulgar
abo.ut the old Saxon word, yet it would be thought as uncouth in a drawing-room, as the ploughman to whose rude
use it is abandoned.• Thus, the word "stenclt" is laven4ered over into unpleasant effluvia, or an ill or/01·; "sweat "
dil~t~d · into _four times the' number of syllables, becomes' a
,fery rnoffens1ve thing in the s hnpe of "perspiration." To
. I,! Pquint" is softene<l into obliquity of vision; to be" drunk"
is vulgar; but, if a man be simply intoxicated or inebriated
it is comparatively venial. Indeed, we may say of the clas:
eical names of vices, what Burke more questionably said of
tices themselves, "that they lose half their deformity by
los~·ng all their grossness." In the same manner, we all
know. that it is very possible for a medical man to put to us
questlon.s un~er the see.mly dis~uise. of scientific phraseology
and polite circumlocut10n, winch, if expressed in the bare
and · rude vernacular, would almost. be as nauseous as his
draughts and pills. Lastly; there are many thoughts which
gai? imm.ens.el.y by mere novelty and variety of expression.
rh1s the JUdtCIOUS poet, who knows that the Connexion between thoughts and words is as intimate as that between
body and spi~it, well understands. The re are thoughts, in
themselves tnte and common-place, when expressed in the
~ackneyed terms of common life, which, if adorned by some
graceful or felicitous novelty of expression, shall assume an
' unwonted air of dignity and elegance. What was trivial
becomes striking; and what was plebeian, noble.
'

• To what is here said of the Sarnn, may be added a short e~tract from
Sir. \Valter Scott's "Ivanhoe," in a dialogue between the jester and the
IWtneherd. (Vol. I. p. 25. S. H. Parker's edition.)
· ' "How call you th ese grunting brutes running about on their four legs 1"
demanded Wamba.
. "Swine, fool, swine,'' said the herd; "every fool kno ws that."
• • "And swine .is good Saxon," said the jester. "But how call you the
IOIC, when she 1s flay ed and drawn up by the heels, like a traitor 1"
· "Pork," answered the swineherd.
11
• •
.t all! very glad every fool knows that, too,'' said \Vamba ; "and pork,
'lhmk, 1s good Norman French; and so when the brute lives, and is in
lhe charge of a Saxon slave, she goes by her Saxon name; but becomes
I Norman and is called pork, when she is carried to the Castle-hall to
feast among the nobles. There is old alderman Ox, continues to hold his
Suon epithet, while he is und e r the charge of serfs and bondmen ; but
~comes Bref, whe!1 he ~rrives before the worshipful jaws that are destined lo consume l11m. Calf, too, beco mes Veal, m the like manner; he
la Saxon when he requires tendance, and takes a Norman name, when he
becomes matter of enjoyment.''

76

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

LESSON XXI.
VARIETY OF EXPRESSION (CONTINUED) .

P e1·iplirasis,

01·

Circumlocution.

Periphrasis or circumlocution,* is the use of several
words to exp;ess the sense of one; as, when we cal! ~he
sun the glorious luminary of day ; or the stars, the shm mg
orb~ which deck the skies; or a sailor, a rover of the'deep, &c.
MODELS.

The science which teaches. .
the proper use of language.
The science which describes
th e earth and its inhabit-'
ants.
The human race.
The source of light
abroad his rays.
The science of numbers.
The upper deep.

Grammar .
Geography.
Mankind.
The sun shines.
Arithmetic.
Heaven.

Wlth his own hands he had Obedience is due to our pa. cultivated his grounds, asrents.
. l!i!lted, as they grew up, by Epistolary as well as personal
. three sons, who, even in
intercourse, according to
boyhood, were glad to work
the mode in which it is
f . with their father in the field.
carried on, is one of the
The water evaporates.
pleasantest, or most irkThe grass is green.
some things in the world. ·
Nature looks fair.
Enthusiasm is apt to betray
· Winter ·is a . desolate season
us in to error.
~ of the year.
His actions were highly unA contented man enjoys the
becoming.
1
, . greater portion of his Jife.
The air is elastic.
J,ife is short.
Astronomy is a delightful
To
confine our attention to
study.
0
the number of the slain, God is eternal, omniscient,
• !• would give us a very inand omnipresent.
; adequate idea of the rav- Candidates for office are fre. ~ ages of the sword.
quently disappointed.

LESSON XXII.
VARIETY OF EXPRESSION (CONTINUED) .

EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.

The student may now express the following ma
phrasis, or circumlocution.
"\Ve must die.
Death.
Women.
Writing.
A school-room.
Retirement.
Temperance.
Industry.
Honesty.
Wealth.
A meeting-house.

A king.
Solitude.
Civili zation.
Washington is dead.
Syntax is the third
grammar.
The ocean is calm.
The stars twinkle.
Amerigus was a gentleman·
of good estate.

" See the article e ntitl ed Anlonomasin, Lesson XXIV. The judicious
use of periphrasis or circ umlo cution, ofte n involves an acquaintance with
fi gurative languag~, and th e subject is_propcrly included under ~h~t _h ead,
But, as it is wanted as a preparation for the followrng Lessons, it is mtro·
duced here.

77

Tautology.
.· · Tautology is the repetition of the same word in a sentence, or the expression of the same idea, twice in different
language. Thus, in the sentence, "The sun shines by day
~nd the moon and stars sltine in the night," the tautoloay
consists in the repetition of the word shines. But, in the
· sentence, "The nefarious wickedness of his conduct was
reprobated and condemned by all,'' the tautology consists
' ~n the use of nifai·ious and wickedness together; which is
the same as to say, the wicked wickedness; and reprobated
and condemned, which are words of similar meaning. So,
also, in the sentence, "The brilliance of the sun dazzles
'o~r eyes, and overpowers them with I ight," the same idea
~ :.conveyed by the word "dazzles" and the expression,
Ii. overpowers them with light " ; one of them, . therefore,
ihould be omitted.
' Tautology should always be avoided. When it consists
,inJhe. repetition of the same word, it may be corrected by
'

7*

---

78

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

the substitution of a synonyme,* or wor<l of similar mea11ing;'.
but, when it consists in the idea, one of the expressions
should be wholly omitted.
MODEL I.

They returned back again to the same city from whence
they came forth.
l
In this sentence, all the wor<ls in Italic arc tautologies;
for the word 1·eturn implies to turn baclc, t!t.c cif!J implies the
same city, andfi·om andfortlt are both iucludc<l ~11 the ~vor.d
wltence. The sentence, read without the wonls Ill Italic, 1s ·
as clear and expressive as words can make it: ·wo~<ls which
do not add to the meaning are useless, especially m prose.
MODEL II.

He went to Liverpool i11 the packet, an<l then went
London in his carriage.
Same S entence, witli the Tautology co1Tected.
He went to Liv erpool in the packet, and then proceeded
to Lon<lon in his carriage.
MODEL III.

The nefarious wickedness of his conduct was reprobated
I
and condemned by all.
,
Corrected.
The wickeduess of his couduct was condemned by all.
l\IODEL IV.

He led a blameless and an irreproachaule life, a1HJ 110 one.
could censure his conduct.
Corrected.
He led an irreproachable life.
EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.

79

·.:Grammar teaclies us to speak properly and write correctly,
and Geography teacltes us the various divisions of the earth.
Grammar is divided into four parts, and geography divides
the ear.th into a number of grand divisions.
'
· ,t, Notwithstanding the rapidity with which time passes
· away, men pass their lives in trifles and follies; although
· reason and religion declare, that not a moment should pass
~ . without bringing some thing to pass.
- · It is folly to endeavour lo ann ourselves a1Jainst those
.trials and difnculties which no arms cnn overcot~e.
·· • The brightness of the sun briglttens every object on
. which it sliines. The briglttness of prosperity, shining on
the anticipations of futurity, casts the shadows of adversity
into the s!tade, and causes the prospects of the future to
look br£glit.
,
- '•· No learning that we -have learned is generally so dearly
· ._bougltt, nor so valuable when it is bougltt, as that which we
have learned in the school of experience.
~ '· Utility should usually be the recommendation of every
•. i utensil which we use.
-. Our expectations are frequently disappointed because we
expect greater happiness from the future, than experience
, authorizes us to expect.
He used to use many expressions not usually used, and
which are not generally in use.
, · The writing which mankind first wrote was first written
on tables of stoue.
· The e1To1·s which were erroneously made, have been corrected, but the teacher directed us t.o follow the dir'ections
- of the rule. On referring to the rules, we found that our
corrections were incorrer:tly made.
~ -·· How many are there by whom these ti<lings of good news
, have never been hear<l 7

Correct the tautology in the following sentences :
The circumstances which I told to John, he told
brother, who told them to the Gener~!.
The Colonel ordered the subordmate officers to order_
their troops to come to order.
,
The first day was spent in forming rul es of order, an<l th~
second day was spent in presenting resolutions.
The bir<ls were clad in their brightest plumage, and
trees were clad in their richest verdure.
" See Lessou X I X., page !J.1.

- -------~- - -- --

--=--

LESSON XXlll.
VARir.TY OF
i :.

F:XPRF:S SION (CONTI NUED).

Pleonasm, Verbo sity, and R edundan cy.

r ' Pleonasm consists in the use of words seemin gly super_fiuous, ill order to express a thought with gre ater energy ;
as, "I saw it witlt my own ey es." H ere t he pleonasm

.!

--- --·------·- - - -----=--=-- ---:::.---=:...;_· -~

80

AIDS TO

consists m the addition of the expression, " with my
eyes."
'.
Pleonasms are usually considered as faults, especially in '
prose. But, in poetry, they may be sparing I~ allo,~ed as·,
poetical licenses.* . They are allowable, also, m a111mated ..
discourse, to introduce abruptly an emphatic word, or to,,
repeat an idea to impress it more strongly ; as, " Ile that- .' ·
hath ears to hear, let him hear." "I know thee who thou
art."
Ple onasm is nearly allied to tautology, but is occasionally-i
a less glaring fault in a sentence; and, indeed, it may be :
consid e red justifiable, and even sometimes el egant, when we
wish to present thoughts with particular perspicuity or force; :.
but an unemphatic repetition of the same idea is one of the
worst of faults in writing.
Pleonasm implie s merely superfluity. Althou g h the \rnrds
do not, as in tautology, repeat tl1e sense, they add nothing .
to it.
·
Pl eonasm diffe rs, al so, from what is called ve rbosity.
Verbosity, it is true, implie s a superabundnnce of words;
but in a pleonasm the re are words which add nothing to
the' sense. In the verbose manner, not only s ingl e words,
but whole clauses, may have a mean ing, and yet it would

ENGLISH CO!llPOSITION.

81

are imbued with such principles ns justify and authorize
. r¢bellion."
·.,, But the same sense may be much better expressed in
fewer words, thus :
"Kings will be tyrants from policy, when subjects are
·r.ebels from principle."
· ~ ··· Redundancy is another term, also employed to signify
'superfluity in the words and members of a sentence. Ple.onasm and verbosity relate, principally, to the words in a
· sentence, Lut redundancy relates to the members as well as
the words. As every wor<l ought to present a new idea,
· so every member ought to contain a new thought. The
following sentence exemplifies the fault of redundancy.
: . 11 The very first discovery of it strikes the mind with inward
' joy, and spreads delight through all its faculties." In this
; example, little or nothing is added by the second member
of the sente nce, lo what was expressed in the first.
The followiug sentences present examples of pleonasm,
· verbosity, and redundancy, which may be corrected by the
learner.
EXAJllPLES FOR PRACTICE.

The rain, is it not over and gone? I hear no wind, only
the voice of the streams.
portant.
My banks th e y are furnished with bees.
Another diffe re nce is, that, in a pleonasm, a complete
. It is impossible for us to behold the divine works with
corre ction may be mad e , by simply omitting the superfluous
coldness or indifference, or to survey so many beauties,
words; but, in a verbose sentence, it will be nec essary to
without a secret satisfaction and complacency.
alte r, as well as to omit.
: Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
It is a good rul e , always to look over what has b ~e n '~ri!- ·
·: This great politician d esiste d from, and renounced his
ten, and to strik e out every word and clause, which 1t 1s .
designs, when he found them impracticable.
found will leave the sentence neither less clear, nor
1· He was of so high and independent a spirit, that he abforcible, than it was before.
horred and detested being in debt.
Th e re are many se ntences which would not bear
-Though raise d to an exalted station, she was a patte rn of
omiss ion of a single word, vvitho ut affe cting the clearness ,.,
·piety, virtn e , and religion.
and force of the~ expression , <m<l whi c h would be ve ry .
The hnrna n bod y m ay be divi de d int o th e head, tru nk ,
much improved, were th ey recast, aud tlie sen se ex pressed
limbs, an d vitals .
hv fewer :rnrl more forcible words. Thns , for instnnce , in '~-~.:...·· His end soon ci ppro nc he (l ; nnd he d ied wi th grea t c o urtl;e f11l lowi11g s0ntence , no fford cnn be omitted without ·
age and lint ittHlc.
affocti11~ the sense .
He was a rnan of so rnt1ch pride an d vanity, th:1t he
"A ~eH' r r; :111cl t_rr:111ni<':il 0xc1Ti "e of lHJ11er 1n 11"t
despised th e se1itinw11t~ nf' r1fliPrs .
a mcittcr o f necc s~ : t ry policy 11 itlt J, i11 gs, 11lte11 their c;11hjects
Poverty illJuccs and cl1crisltcs dependence; and dPp cndence st rcn ,!!;tlicne< n11d inrn· :i ~cs corrnptio11 .
This 111an, on all oc c asiolls, treated l1is inferiors 1\i th
" Se e t li e a rtic le 0 11 P fJel ica l /,ic"11se .
great h:rnght i11 ess awl disdai n .

be better to 01nit them, because \vhat they 1nean is unim- J

82

AIDS TO

There can be no regularity or order in
duct of that man, who does not give and
of his time to retirement and reflection.
.
Such equivocal and ambiguous expressions, mark a formed"'
intention to deceive and abuse us.
His cheerful, happy tempe r, remote from discontent,
keeps up a kind of daylight in his mind, excludes everr
gloomy prospect, and fills it with a steady and pcrpetu~l ·
serenity.
'
Ilei ng content with deserving a triumph, he refused the
honor of it.
:
In the Attic commonwealth, it was the privil ege of every '
citizen and poet to rail aloud in pub! ic.

LESSON XXIV.
VARIETY OF EXPRESSION (<; ONTINUED).

Antonomasia.
Antonomasia is a term applied to that form of ex pression
in which a proper name is put for a common, or a commorl
name for a proper; or, when the title, office, dignity, pro-:
fession, science, or trad e, is used instead of th e true name
of a person. Thu s, when we apply to Christ the term,
" the Saviour of the world," or "th e Redeemer of ma 11 kind"; .
or, to \Vashington, the term," th e Father of hi s country";
or wh e n we say, II is Excellen cy , in stead of th e Governor,
His Honor, instea d of the judge; or, His Majesty, instead
of the king, the expression is called Antonornasia. So, al3o;;
when a glutton is called a Heliogabalus (from the Roman
emperor distinguish ed for that vice), or a tyrant. i8 called a'.
Nero, we have other instances of the sa me forrn of ex pression.
Again, when we call Geography, "that science which
describes the earth aml its inhabitants," or J\ ritl11uctic is
termed, "the science of numbers," the anto111m1asia be-~
com es apparent. It will thus be seen, that this form of ex,·
pression is frequently nothing more than an in stance of·
periphrasis, or circumlocution.
This form of expression is very common in parliamentary
form s and in deliberative asse mbli es , in which in speaking ,
of individual pe rsons, they arc uot called by their proper'
names, but by their oflice, or some other des ignating appeJ-·

ENGLISH COJIIPOSITION.

83

, .!ation.* Tints, in speaking of ·washington, tho orator
· designates him, by antonomasia, as "the sage of Mount
· Y~rnon," or of Shakspeare, as "the bard of Avon," from
.the river on whose bank he resided.
: As the exercise of this figure is precisely similar to that
. ·called in the 21st Lesson Periphrasis or Circumlocution 1 it
. is riot deemed necessary to append many separate examp les
Jor practice. The student may apply the principle of this
lesson to the examples for practice under that head.
EXAMPLES FOR PRA CT I CE.

Washington.
Nelson.
Sir Isaac Newton.
Lord Bacon.
St. John.
· . St. Luke.
The Judge.
The Governor.
A Nobleman.

Lord Wellington.

A very rich man.
A great glutton.
Nupoleon Bonaparte.
A great mathematician.
A great mechanician.
The Queen.
The J\ing.

XXV.

LESSON
VARIETY OF

EXPRl~SSION

(CON TINUED) .

Euphemism, or Softened Expression . .

'""·· Aeuphe mism

is a kind of periphrasis used to avoid the
harshness or impropriety of plain expressions; as, I detected
him in a mi stake, for, I det ecte d him in a lie, or falsehood.
Euphemisms are frequently made by a simple change of
" ~ords, without increasing their number.
lllODELS.

Same idea in a cupltemism.
He was offended with me.
He perished on the scaffold.
He had indulged himself in
liquor.

:•·It is contrary to the rules of rill parliamentary assemblies to call any
.Jnember by hi s proper name . Each individual is called by the'name of the
'lt&te, town, city, cou nty, or ward, which he represe nts. Thus, we say "the
pntleman from Massachusetts," "the. mem~c.r from Virginia,"" the 'member from \'Yard 10," &c.; or, from l11s pos1t10n, "the gentleman on my
'
right," or, "the gentleman who las t spoke," &c.

-ENGLISH CO!llPOSITION.

AIDS TO

She had unfortnnately los
her senses; or, Sire labored
under alien at.ion of mind,
She is not noted for her in .
dustry.

She was crazy.
She is a lazy girl.

EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.

T!te learner will use euphemisms in tltc fulluming
tences, instead of lite words in Jlalic.
Sire is a careless girl.
1 !tate that man.
His garments were dirty an~
My mother scolded at me.
ragged.
He was turn ed out of office.
He
cannot diges t Iris food.
He cheats, and she lies .
I belie ve that he stole that Tlrat poor man was put into
tire 111rul-lwusc.
book.
'l'hi s f cllow mu st Le put into·
He was put into gaul.
tlte poor-ltouse.
·
Charles is a coward.
J\Ir. T. has no money.
Henry was a great rascal.
She is a servant in my family.
John is a spendthrift.
That man is a very stingy Jolrn bought a book, and run
in debt for it.
t
felloio.
.
That woman ltas very sluttzs!t Sire works very ltanl for her
living.
manners.
He eats very greedily, and :
This person is very proud.
turn s up !tis nose at every
:Mr. A. is a conceitedfcllow.
t!ting .
George is a troublesome boy.

85

MODEL I.

,_., : Idleness is the cause of misery.
~. "

Same idea exp1·essed in different 1001·ds.

'.-Idleness is the poison of happiness.
, ·. Idleness is an enemy to happiness.
'_' , Indolence is the bane of enjoyment.
. , Indolence is a foe to happiness.
·' Indolence destroys all our pleasures.
Want of occupation prevents the enjoyment of life.
. : i Laziness oppoc;es every effort to secu_re the enjoyment
of life.
> When we have nothing to do, time hangs heavily on our
hands.
If we suffor tire mind and body to be unemployed, our
enjoyments, as well as our labors, will be terminated.
· Inactivity of mind or body stagnates tire spirits, and pre. vents their easy and natural flow.
' The n1st of inactivity obscures the. brightness of many a
· passing hour.
. , .Indolent habits lay the foundation of future misery.
.. +.
,
MODEL II.

·~ 'when tire school was dismissed, the children went home.

. ,_ '

Same idea differently expres se d.
: The school having been dismissed, the pupils proceeded ·
lo their Jw ell ings.

LESSON XXVI.
YAlUE'l'Y 01"

EXJ'JU:ss1u1~

(CO NT ! i'ilil•:ll).

Jn the preceding lessons, th e variou s modes of transpo-~
sition and inversion, by which the same id ea can be ex·:.. .
pressed by differe nt inflections of the words, we:e pr cse n.ted: _
In this lesso n, the modes are suggested by wl11ch the 1de~
may be clothed in different language, still, for the 111ost part1.
preserving its i11e11tity . X'
" It is to he ohsern-,d, that, in the pr:H't.ie P of th e pri1wipl" i11 volvc<I in.
s!J()11ld n ot b e t rio ri'..' irl in notir ·i11'..' t l1" f:i11!ts of
pl eo n as in, YC r!J os ity, or rcdu11d :1r1 r-.y. Tl 1r, rd•J•·r:l rif th" !•_"'"'" . ;, tn ~ive
a commanJ of la11gucigc, :rnJ it "ill b1: \vc ll, "hc11 l]ll, nhy ct is parl1allL
effopf.Pd. tn H''l lli rn tlin l c ;irnr,r to takr l11 s n •.,·n "' n fc11ecs a11d pru 11 e them
<•ll the principl es c:qd:iin cd in the prcccdi11 g l1·,so11s .

t!ti 8 Iess•JII, t.lw t.cac li c r

• . The boys and girls proceeded home, as soon as school
.was done.
The scholars went home, as soon as school was over.
School be ing close J, th e children depa rted to the places
· of their residence.
~;~ : The busin ess of school having been com pl cteJ , the mas'ters and misses joined their frie11ds at home.
JllODEL III.

·· Th e yonn~ shn11ld he dili gen t and industrio11s, and make

· a proper use of tlrcir time.
Same idea dij}(;rcntly c.r:prcs scrl.

Dili gc11co, i11d11 stry, ancl prupcr i111pro1emc11t of time are
,,._ material du t ies of the young.

s

86

87

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COl\IPOSITION.

Young men, be industrious ; make
time; an awful responsibility rests upon you.
Young persons should be made sensible, that it is their
duty to be diligent and industrious and to employ their .'
time in useful pursuits.
To be diligent and industrious, and to e mploy their ti~e '
in profitable occupations, are things which we expect from
young persons.
,
In the morning of life, wh e n th e phantom s of hope are
flitting before their si g ht, and the vis ions of !'ancy arc dee··
orating their prospec ts, the young should not suffer them- .
selves to be deluded by expectations which cannot be real- ·
iz ed. The golden sands should not he wantonly wasted in ·
their p ath, nor should the precious moments of life be suf.
fered to take flight, without bearing on their wings some
token of their value.
·
Duty addresses the young in an imperative tone, requir~··
ing them to apply the msel ves with dilige nce to their proper ·
occupations, and forbidding them to pay one mome11t but in '.
purchase of its worth. " And what is its worth ? - Ask death-beds ; they can tell."
•.
Young persons cannot be commended when th ey devote
those hours to indolence , which should have been given to'
industry; for time is valuable, and should be prop e rly employed.
.
The young should be dilige nt and industrious, and prop· _'.
erly improve their tirrn~. *
It is not only when duty addresses them with her warn~­
ing voice that th e young should practi se tl1 c virt11rs of dilj. )gence and industry ; a proper imp rorc mc 11t of th Pir time ~
is at all times expected from th e m.

·. pages. The following sentence will exemplify to the student the ef. feet of two of the vnrieties of style.]
.

MODEL IV.

Style of simple Narration.
' ;'"'Yesterday morning, as I was walking in the fields, I saw
..,· Jo!m stab James through the heart with a dagger.

~ Style of passionate exclamation, in wltich tltc prominent idea
·· ·~· . is
h

" In th e Introduction to thi s hnok, noti ce was f:1kcn nf' t he diffe rent -;

I saw John stab him to the heart.

EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE."'°

• .:· True friendship is like sound health, the value of it is
seldom known until it is lost.
~ · i :We are not more ingenious in searching out bad motives
Jor good actions, when performed by others, than good mo' J ives for bad actions when performed by ourselves.
As no roads are so rough as those that have just been
- mended, so no sinners are so intolerant as those that have
jusJ turned saints.
' When dunces call us fools without proving us to be so,
; our best re tort is to prove them to be fools without conde, scending to call them so .
. :. When certain persons abuse us, let us ask oursell'es what
• description of characters it is that th ey admire; we shall
:'often find this a very consolatory question.
. Contemporari es nppreciate the man ra ther than the merit; but posterity will regard the me rit rather than the man.
T o die is the inevitable lot of all men.
· · Dea th is th e liberator o f him whom fre edom cannot rel~asc; the physician of him whom medicine cannot cure ,
and the comforter of him whom time cannot console.
,. '· The best season for acquiri11g the spirit of devotion is in
.early life. It is then attain ed with the greatest facility, and
· -- ·at that season t here a rc µeculia r motives for the cultivation

[The different mod es of expressing the ~ame idea g ive ri Re to the '.
distinctions of st.vie which have been 11H·nt.innl'rl in tli <; lnlmd11ction . ·•
The subj ect of sty le wil l be lllOre fully trcatcJ in the suiJSt'<jUent-'--:-~~- of

f orms, or style, of compos i t ion. In this model, :rn attc 111pf. has Ileen mude to imitate se ve ral of the div ers iti es o f s tyle there menti o ned; anil it will h e u se fnl t.n the s t.ncl rnt, wh rn h r ' !t a ll have !H•cnmc :H'•111:1i11t c d with the '

b1·ougltt fonoard, and the circumstances are cast into

, ~ ,.- the sltadc.
:~. James is murdered!

it.

It will be a s rtcrifice superlatively acceptable to him, and
not less ndvnntagcous to your~clvcs.
0 how canst thou renounc e the boundless store of charms,
that nature to her vo ta ry yields?
Sweet wac; the sound, when oft at evc11i11g's close , the
villa ge murmur rose up yo nd er hill.

div ers iti es of" s tyl e, in the s 11l is" 'l"e11t. p:ir:c s of t.l1is \01111111>, to r11•l cavour to 2:
desig11ate them res pect ive ly liy their p ec 11liar c li:1rac f.e 1i st.ics . It may l:cre .:
be remark<"], that the sl'·]c oC co11 111J o11 Cflll\.,,1s:itio11. r·.11lr:cl tllf• cn//oq11ia/
style, allows the introduction of t er ms and express ions, "·h icb are not -ri. ~~- ----------------------usell in grave writi11g.
·"The learner must be careful to make use of his urnlersta1 Hling and dis - crimination, as well as !ti s dicli o11 a ry 1 in the performance of this exerci s e .

l ·:

.'

88
I

i

I !

AIDS

TO

Beware of desperate steps, - the <larkcst day will
morrow have passed away.
Ila! Laugh est thou, Lochiel, my vision to scorn·
bird of th e rnouutain, thy plume shall be torn.
'
Illa me not before you have examined the matter ; under· ·
stand first, and then re buke.
He that honoreth his father shall have loug life; and he
that is obedient unto the L ord s hall be a com lu rt to his '
moth e r.
···
We should always speak th e truth, for a lie is wicked as
well as di sg race ful.
.My son, help thy father in hi s age, aud griev e him not '
so long as he liveth.
Pope professed to have learn ed his poetry from Dryden, .
w horn, w !1 e 11 ever a11 opportunity prese nted, he praised ..
throu g ~1 l11 s whole life, with uuvaric<l liberality ; aud per·
haps l11s ch~racter may rece ive some illustration, if he be
compared with his master.
However virtue maj' be nealecte<l for a time me n are so
.
0
'
constituted as ultimat ely to acknowl ecl 1re and respect 0aenuine n1erit.
:::i
'

LESSON XXVII.
TRA NSPOSITION, OR TIIE CONVE HSION OF POETRY
PHO SE.

Poe try when literally tran slated mak es in general but
insipi<l . prose. Pr~s e is the la~1guage of r.easo11, - poetry
of fe elmg or pass1011. Prose 1s charactenzed by fulness
and precision. Poetry deal s largely in elliptical expres- .
sions,. exc lamations, exaggeratioll s, apostrophes, aud other
pec uliariti es not usually found in prose. For the pmpose, :·
al so, of accommodating them to th e mea sure of a verse the
p_oets freg.u ently alter or abbreviate words, and use ex jJres- .:
s10ns which would not be authorized in prose . Such ab- ,
brevi~tions and alterations, together with other changes
somet1_me~ made, are culle? po c t~c licenses , because they
are pn11c1pully used by poetical writers.
·
'_The following are so111e of the licenses used by poetical
wnters : - ·
l. EL1 s 10N, or th e omi:0sion of part s of a word. When
the elision is from the beginning of a word, it is called

89

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

;f,iphceresis, and consists in cutting off the initial letter or
, ,syll~ble ?f a word ; as, 'squire for esquire, 'gainst for
• against, gan for began, &c. ·w hen the elision is from the
bo~y of the w~r.d, it is called syncope; · as, list'ning for listening, tliun~l ~·mg for tliundcring, lov'd for loved, &c.
.When the elision is from the end of a word

it is caJled

·.. ~apocope, and consists in the cutting off of a flnal vowel or
.syllable, or of one or more letters ; as, gi' me for give me
' fro' for fi·om, o' for of, tli' evmiing for the evening Philo~
"mel' for Philomela.
'
: · 2. SYN.LEitEs1s, or the contraction of two syllables into

one, by rapidly pronouncing in one syllable two or more
• yqwels which properly belong to separate syllables; as ae
lb the word Israel.
ii' 3. APosTnornE, or the contraction of two words into
one; as, 't is for it is, can't for cannot, thou 'rt for t!tou art.
··· · ~. D1.LEREs1s, ?r the division of one syllable into two; as,
pu-is-sant for pmssant.
·
\· '' 5. PAnAGOGE, or the addition of an expletive letter· as
witlwuten for wi tltout' crouchen for croucli.
'
'
~I 6. PnosT11Es1s, or the prefixing of an expletive letter or
syllable to a word ; as, appertinent for p ertinent, beloved for
; loved.

. •·· 'J. ENALLAGE, or the use of one part of speech for anoth, er; as in the following lines, in which an adjective is used
for an adverb; as,
· · •; ;, Blue through the dusk the smoking currents shine."
"The fearful hare limps awkward."
: . 8. H YPE!lnATON, or th~ in version or transposition of
words, placing that first which should be last; as,
,; "And though, sometimes, each dreary pause between."
" 1-lim answered then his loving mate and true."

.,

., ,,,· 9. PLEONASM, or the use of a greater numbe.r of words
. than are necessary to express the meaning· as
~ • Jl ~

'

'

.J

. "My banks they are furnished with bees."

' . 10. TMEs1s, or the separation of the parts of a compound
. l".ord; as, On wliich side soever, for, On whichsoever side.
· , •' 11. ELL1rs1s, or the omission of some parts not absolute; ly essential to express the meaning, but necessary to com. plete the grammatical construction.
The poets have likewise other peculiarities which are

s•

90

AIDS TO

emliraced under the general name of poetic diction. I~
order to accommodate their language to the rules of melo
<ly, an<l that they may be relieved, in some measure, fro~~
the restraints whid1 verse imposes on thc111, they are in.;
dulcre<l in the following usages, seldom allowable in prose. '_
They abbreviate nouns, adjectives, verbs, adverbs,
&c. ; as, morn for morning, amaze for amazement, fount fo~ .
fountain, dread for dreadful, lm~e for_luncly, lurt~ for all~re,
list for listen, ope for open, oft for ojtcn, !tapl!J fur lwppily, '
&c., and use obsolete words* and obsolete mea11ings.
·
2. They make use of ellipses more frer1uently than prose .
writers; omitting the article, the relative pronoun, anc\
sometimes even its antecedent ; using the auxiliaries with,
out the principal verb to which they belong; a11d on th~
contrary, they also sometimes make use of repetitious which.
are seldom observ ed in prose.
3. They use the infi11itive mood for a noun; use adjec~ ­
tives for adverbs, and sometimes even for nouns; and nouns
for adjectives; ascribe qunlities to things, to which they do
not literally beloncr;
form new compound epithets; connec\
·
:::>
•
the word self with nouns, as well as pronouns; sometimes
lengthen a word by an additional letter or syllabic, and giv«i,
to the imperative mood both the first and third perso11s.
4. They arbitrarily employ or omit the prefixes; use ac- ,
tive for neuter and neuter for active verbs; employ partici.·,
pies and interj ec tious more frequ ently than prose writers l
connect words that are not in all rr;spects similar; and use
conjunctions in pairs contrary to grammatical rule.
· :_
5. They alter the regular arrangement of the words of a...
sentence, placing before the verb words which usually
come after it, and after the verb those that usually come:
before it, putting adjectives after their nouns, the auxiliary .
after the principal verb; the prepositiou after the objective •
case which it governs; the relative before its a11tccedent ;. .
the infinitive mood before the word which governs it; anq .
they also use one mood of the verb for another, employ .
forms of expression similar to those of other languages, and.
different from those which belong to the English language.'
But one of the most objectionable features of poetic diction :
is the interjection of numerous details, betwee11 those parts,
of a sentence which are closely colllbinc<l by the rules o(

t

ENGLISH COl\lPOSITION.

Sy.ntax. Thus in the followi11g extract from one of the most
eel,e brated poets of the langurige, generally characterized by
the simplicity of his diction, the objective case is placed
fore the verb which governs it, while a number of circumsta.n~es are introduced between them.
But me, not destined such delights to share,
My prime of life in wandering spent an<l care,
lmpelle<l, with steps unceasing, to pursue
Some fleeting goo<l, that mocks me with the view,
That, like the circle bounding earth and skies,
.· Allures from for, yet, as I follow, flies;
{· ·~ My fortune leads tu traverse realms alone,
And find no spot of all the world my owu.

·. · ln t!te following extracts, tlze student may point out tlze
.J1eculiarities of POETIC DICTION, wlticlt lzave now been enumerated. Tlze wonls in Italic will assist lzim in rccogniz-

. ing tltem.

.

The cottage curs at early pilgrim bark.
The pipe of early slu.:p!terd.
Affliction's self deplores thy youthful doom.
What dreadful pleasure, there to stand sublime,
Like shipwrecked mariner on desert coast!
Ah! see! the unsightly slime and sluggish pool,
Have all the solitary vale embrowned.
Hereditary bondmen! Know ye not
Wlw would be free, themselves must strike the blow?.
.-'.· . N_o fire the kitchen's cheerless grate displayed.

'•
.-~·

Efflux divine! nature's resplendent robe.
And thou, 0 sun!
Soul of surrounding worlds! in whom best seen,
· Shines out thy JJfaker; may I sing of thee!

'': '.•

Earth's meanest son, all trembling, prostrate falls,
on the boundless of thy goodness calls.
·

· t • And
··w.

.

·.':
,.. · In world-rqjoicing state it moves sublime.

· :.~, Oft in the stilly night.
•'

-

· For is there aught in sleep con cltarrn the wise?
And Peace, 0 Virtue! Peace is all thy own.

" Obsolete words are worlls which , although formerly current, are not.
. now in common use.

91

Be it dapple's Li ray,
Or be it not, or be it whose it may.

Po----------- - - ------------- ------

92

93

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.
AIDS TO

Wealth heaped on wealth, nor truth nor safety buys. I.
A n<l sculpture that can keep thee from to die.
The Muses fair, these peaceful shades among,
With skilful fingers sweep the trembling strings.
Beltoves no more,
But sidelong to the gently waving wind,
To lay the well-tuned instrument reclined.
Had unambitious mortals minded nought,
But in loose joy their time to wear away,
Rude nature's state had been* our state to-day.
EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.

In the following exercises the learner is expected to write'
the ideas conveyed in the poetical extracts, in prose, vary~~
ing the words and expressions, as well as the arrangemen.t.
of them, so as to make clear and distinct sentences.
.· ~
MODEL I.

What is the blooming tincture of the skin
'fo peace of mind and harmony within?
Same transposed.
Of what value is beauty, in comparison
mind an<l a quiet conscience?
MODEL II.

Reason's whole pleasure, all the joys of sense,
Lie in three words, - health, peace, and competence.
Same idea expressed in prose.
Health, peace, and competence comprise all the
ures which this world can afford.
" This form of expression where one mood of the verb is used for an ..
other, is sometime~ imitated _by pr<?se w~iters. 'l'hns, "Sixty summers.
had passed over !us head without 1mpartmg one ray of warmth to his
heart; without exciting one tender feeling for the sex, deprived of whose
cheering presence, the paradise of the world were a wildern ess of weeds.'!'
:---- N ew M_onthly _Magazine. In t~is ex~ract, the impe1Jecl of th e subjunctive
1s used without its attendant conJunct10n for th e pluperfect of" the poten·
tial. Cowper has a similar expression in his fable entitled "The Need• ,
less Alarm," where he uses the pluperfect of the indicative for the pluper·
feet of the potential; thus,
"Awhile they mus ed; surveying every fac e,
Thou hadst supposed them of superior race ."

EXAJ\1I'LES FOR PRACTICE.

~ Honor and shame from no condition rise ;

Act well your part ; there all the honor lies.
Like birds whose beauties languish half concealed
Till, (llounted on the wing, their glossy plumes,
Expanded, shine with azure, green, and gold,
"~ H,ow blessings brighten as they take their flight!

, I am monarch of all I survey,
.:. My right there is none to dispute;
t
From the centre all round to the sea,
· I am lord of the fowl au<l the brute.
'.·• .r 0, Solitude! where are the charms,
""'. That sages hnve seen in thy face 7
.:. Better dwell in the midst of alarms,
~· Than reign in this horrible place.

.~ 'Sweet was the sound when oft at evening's close
. ·Up yonder hill the village murmur rose.
·~ Here rests his head upon the lap of earth,
. .A youth to fortune and to fame unknown.
Fair science frowned not on his humble birth,
And melancholy marked him for her own.

l~ive, while you live, the epicure would say,

And seize the pleasures of the present <lay.
:- Live, while you live, the sacred preacher cries,
. .. And give to God each moment as it flies.
..: Lord! in my view let both united be ;
I live in pleasure when I Jive to thee.
"·:· The ploughman homewards plods his weary way. ~ 0, for a lodge in some vast wilderness,
· Some boundless contiguity of shade,
Where rumor of oppression and deceit,
'Of unsuccessful or successful war,
:'.\ .Might ne.ver reach me more.

.The evening was glorious, and light through the trees
Played the sunshine and rain drops, the birds and the
·
breeze,
_ • This line may be transposed at
tlolcnce tQ the sense .

lea~t

te n different

way~

without rloing

94

',
AIDS TO

ENGLISH COl\IPOSITION.

The landscape , outstretching i11 lovclincs8, lny
On the lap of the year, in the beauty of l\Iay.
I no smiling pleasures knew,
I no gay delights could view ;
Joyless sojourner was I,
Only born to weep and die.
His heart no broken friendships sting,
No storms his peaceful tent invauc;
He rests beneath the Almighty's wing,
Hostile to none, of none a fraiu.
In yonder cot, along whose mould ering wall s,
In many a fold the mantling woodbine falls,
The village matron kept her little school,
Gentle of hea rt, yet knowing well to rule.
Staid was th e dame, and modes t was her mi e n,
lier garb was coarse, yet whole and nicely clean;
Her neatly bordered cap, as lily, fair,
Ben eath her chin was pinned with dece nt care ;
And pendant rufBes, of the whites t lawn,
Of ancient make, her elbows did adorn.
Faint with old age, and dim were grown her eyes;
A pair of spectacles their want supplies;
These does s he guard secure in le athern case,
From thoughtless wights in some unwcetcd place.
'.Yhe n fir:;t thy sire to se nd on earth
Virtu e , his darling child, designed,
To thee he gave the heavenly birth,
And bade thee form her infant mind.
The learner is presumed now to be prepared to transpose ,
simple tales and stories from verse into prose , with some
additions of his owu. Such exercises will be found of
much use, not only in acquiring command of language, but
also as an exercise of the imagination. Iu perforn1 ing these
exercises, the greatest latitude rn ay be nflowed, nnd the
learne r may be permitted not only to alter the language,
but to substitute his own ideas, and to vary the circumstan·
ces, so as to make the exercise ns nenrly an original one as.he cau.
lllOH!o:t..

The followin g short tal e, or story
to be conv erted into a talc in prose.

111

95

GINEVRA.

.
If ever you should come to Modena,
. ·(Where, among other relics, you may see
':'.·, Tassoni's l.111cket,- but 'tis not the true one,)
· • · · Stop at a palace near the Reggio gate,
Dwelt in of old by one of the Donati.
Its noble gardens, terrace above terrace,
And rich in fountnins, statues, cypresses,
Will long detain you, - but, before you go,
Enter the house, - forget it not, I pray you, And look awhile upon a picture there.
'T is of a lady in her earliest youth,
The Inst of that illustrious family;
;t ·_. Done by Zampieri, but by whom I care not.
· ..He who observes it, ere he passes on,
' his fill, and comes and comes agam,
.
· . Gazes
~ ·. That he may call it up when far away.
· She sits, inclining forward as to speak,
Her lips half open, and her finger up,
.. As though f'he said, "Beware!" her vest of gold
. Broidered with flowers and clasped from head to foot,
', . ·-An emerald stone in every golden clasp;
·.' And on her brow, fairer than alabaster,
A coronet of pearls.
But then her face,
So lovely, yet so arch, so full of mirth,
The overflowings of an innocent heart,
It haunts me still, though many a year has fled,
Like some wild melody!
A Ione it hangs
Over a mouldering heirloom, its companion,
'· ·.' : An oaken chest, half en ten by the worms,
· ., But ti chi y carved by An tony of Trent
' ,,·· With scripture-stories from the life of Christ;
.. A chest that came from Venice, and had held
The ducal robes of some old ancestor; · '!'hat by the way, - it may be true or false, · But don't forget the picture; and you will not
When you have heard the tale thej told me there.
· She was an only child, - her name Ginevra,
The joy, the pride of an indulgent father;
· And in her fifteenth year became a bride,
. : : Marrying an only son, Francesco Doria,

96

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

Iler pl ay mate from he r birth, and her fir st love.
Ju st as s he look s there in he r bridal dress,
Sh e was all gentl eness, all gayety .
H e r pranks the favorite theme of eve ry ton g ue.
Ilut now th e day was come, th e <la y, the hour;
Now, frowning, smiling, for th e hundredth time,
The nurse, that ancient la<ly, preached deco rum;
And, in th e lu stre of he r youth , she gave
Il e r h and , with her hea rt iu it , to Francesco.
Gr eat was th e joy; but at th e 1111ptial fea st,
·w h en all sate dow n, the bride herself was wanting.
N o r was s he to be found! Ile r fath e r cried,
"'T is but to make a trial of o ur love !"
And fille<l liis rrla ss to all; but hi s hand shook,
b
.
.I
And soo n fro111 g uest to guest th e pa111c spren u.
'T was but that instant s he had le ft Francesco,
Lau g hin g, and Joo ki1.1g back a1~d I.l yin g still ,
lier ivo ry tooth i111pnnted 011 hi s fin ge r,
Ilut now , alas, she wa s not to be found;
Nor from th at hour could any thing be guessed,
But that she was not!
Weary of his li fe,
Fran cesco fl ew to Veni ce, an<l embarkin g,
Flung it away in battle with th e Turk.
D on ati Jiv ed, - and lon g mi g ht you have see n
An old man wand e rin g ns i11 qu es t of so met hing,
S omethin 0rr he could uot find, - he kn e w 11 ot what.
When he was gone, the hou se re main ed awhile
Sil en t and tena11tl ess, - then we nt to strangers.
Full fifty years wer e past, and all forgotten,
Whe n on an idl e day, a <lay of search
'Mid th e old lumbe r in th e gall e ry,
That moulde rin g chest was noticed; an<I 't was said
Ily on e as youn g, as t houg htless ns Ginevra,
""\Vhy 11 ot remove it fro m its lurkin g- place '1"
'T was don e as soo n as sa id ; but on the way
It burst, it fell; and lo! a skeleton
With here and th ere a pearl, an emerald-ston e,
A ooldcn c lasp, claspi11 g a shred of golcl .
Ali° e lse h ad peri shed,·- save a we <lcli11g rin g,
Ami a sm all se al , her mother 's leg acy,
E11grave11 with a name , the nam e of both "Ginev ra " - There then had she found a grave!

97

' Within that chest had she concealed herself,
Fluttering with joy, the happiest of the happy;
i When a spring-lock, that lay in ambush there,
• • . Fastened her down for ever !
·.:fl.I . .

Conversion of tlte preceding Sto1·y into Prose.
• f

A LEGEND OF MODENA."

. In .an eleg.ant apartment .of a palace overlooking the
Reggio gate m Modena, wluch, about fifty years before,
~longed to the noble family of Donati, but which now
was occupied by a very distant branch of that illustrious
race, sat . the loveliest of its descendents, - the beautiful
Beatrice, the flower of Modena. Upon the marble table
and embroidered ottomans before her, lay a variety of rich
eostumes, which her favorite attendant, Laura, was ar-·
ranging_where their rich folds fell most gracefully' and their
br ight ti~ts moc~ed the rainb?w's hues of. colored light;
Jo~. the fatr Beatnce was select111g a beoomrng attire for a
masquerade ball, wh.ich was ~o ,l?e given during the gay sea-aon of the approachrng Carnival. But a shadow of discon~nt rested on her brow, as she surveyed the splendid
dresses, - they were too common-place, - and she turned
from them with disdain. Suddenly her eye rested upon an
i~tique picture, hanging o~ the tapes~ried wall, which rep-·
~e~ented a young and beautiful figure m the attitude of

r·
./:

"Inclining forward, as to speak ,
Her lips half open and her fin ge r up,
As though she. said ' Beware! ' he r vest of gold
Broide red with flowers and clasped from head to foot
An emerald stone in every golden clasp,
'
And on he r brow - a coron e t of pearls."

' f Pushing aside the costly silks and velvets, she ran to
look at the picture more close ly. The lacly's dress was perfect, she thought; it just suited her capricious taste and
·ojie like it she determined to have and wear, at th~ approaching festival. In vain Laura expostulated, and the
difficulty of obtaining such an antiquated costume was
brought to her mind, and finally, th e legend connected with
the portrait was begun. But. the wilful Beatrice would not
listen, although a destiny, sad as that of the ill-fated lady of
the portrait was predicted, if she persevered in her whim.
•' This" L ege nd " was written by a young lady of about thirteen years
ciage, ·and presented as an exercise at the public school in this city, under·
lbe charge of the au th or.
9

98

AIDS TO
ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

Regardless of remonstrance, Beatrice proceeded to searc
among the finery of her ancestors for somethi11a to corre
spond with the dress which she determined to h 1~rn , spite o
all their old legends, which she did not believe. But she
searched in vain, and she was returning through the gallet''·
almost in despair, when her attention was attracted by an ol
"Oaken chest half eate n by the worms,
And richly carved,"

which she thought mi ght contain somethina suitable. Im·
patiently she waited, while her attendants blifted the moul·
deriug cover, and then bent eagerly forward to look at i
contents, - she shrieked and fell into the arms of Laura'1
as a skeleton met her eye,
,
" With here and th ere a pearl, an emerald stone
A golden clasp, clasping a shre<l of gold ."
'

The legend of the unfortunate lady of the portrait wa
indeed true, - these were her remains. Beatrice was car
ried to her room, and a month passed before she recovere
from a fever occasioned by the fright and excitement sh.
experienced ; and never again did she minale in the dissl·
pated circle of her native city . These scen:s had lost the'
charms, - for the skeleton and its history continually pre
se!1ted themselves to her mind, reminding her, that "in th
midst of life we are in death," and warning her to prepar
for that change, which must occur in the course of our ex
i~tence. After a while, Beatrice lost these gloomy sens~
tlons, and became cheerful and happy in the performanc
of duty, and participated in those innocent amusements o(
life, which s~1e enjoyed far better than thos e absorbing
pleasures, which she used to admire. The old chest aria
portrait were placed carefully tooether, and Beatrice ever
after wore the wedding ring and tl1e seal inscribed with ~h
name, "Ginevra," which had been found amonD" the other
re.lies of the chest., She also wrote, for the pe r~sal of her .
friends, the followmg story connected with the picture an
its mouldering companion.
·!
GINEVRA.
"And she ind eed was beautiful,
A creature to behold with tremblin g 'mi dst our joy
Lest aught uns ee n should wrift th e vision from us '
L eav ing ea rth too clim without its brightn ess.''
'

"The deep gold of eventide burned in the Italian sky·;
and the wind, passing through the orange groves and ov~r

Ule:.terraces

99

which surrounded the palace of the Donati

lii)lgl~d its s?fi, sweet sighs with the murmuring of th~
~Un!ams, which sparkled in the moonbeams, occasionally
pdmg a shower of spr~y over the waving foliage that
1

~~dowed them_. At a window, overlooking this moon-lit
·1eene!. stood Gr?evra, the only child of Donati, "the joy,
·the pnde of an indulgent father." Indeed, her gentleness
and sportiveness made her loved by all, and
. .

"Her pranks the favorite theme of every tongue.''

She · had seen but fifteen summers and these had glided
l"'.ay like a fairy dream, , ..

and then'

.

"Her face so lovely, yet so arch so full of mirth
The overfiowings of an innoce~t heart.''
'

~~d ~here _she stood, looking at those old familiar scenes,
. t~I . a tear ghtte~ed in her dark eye,
re~te~ on her fair brow, like a cloud

and a shade of sadness
shadowing her" sunny
!k!es 1 ; - for, on the morrow, she was to part from her
cla.1ldhood's home, she was " to aive her hand with her
I '
•
•
"
'
ellrt
m 1t,
to F'rancesco Doria, a"" brave and handsome
son
:that noble family, whose name often occurs in the anials of Italy. Long did Ginevra linger at the window.
'~y only one." The voice was her father's, who, accomeatued by Francesco, came to seek her : and there they
~,ma_ined, looki.n~ ot.~t on that lovely scene'; and many were
~e. Joyous ant1c1pat1ons, the bright hopes, the dreams of
~appiness which mingled in their conversation while Francesco plucked the white flowers from a vine' which hung
· across the casement, and wreathed them in Ginevra's long
dark curls. But a neighbouring convent bell warned them
ro seek repose, and reluctantly they parted to dream of- the
morrow, which they fondly thought would bring with it the
realization of their bright hopes.
''.' The morn is up again, the dewy morn," and sunlight
and dewdrops were weaving bright rainbow webs over shrub
and flower, and the fresh mornina breeze blew the vines
across the marble pillars of the c~lonnade which echoed
.with the merry voices, - the gay laugh, and the light step
6f·the pr?ud and bea.\rtiful assemblage, collected to grace
}he wed?mg of Donati s lovely daughter. And lovely, indeed, did she appear among Italy's fairest children. Her
d.ress of rich green velvet, clasped with emeralds set in
fol~ •. the pearls shining among her dark curls, added to her
lovelmess, and made her appear the star of that bright

of

100

ENGf,lSH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

company. Proudly and fondly her father and husbati
watched her graceful form, as she glided among the ga
throng, receiving their congratulations as the bride , '
Francesco Doria. Nothing seemed wanting to compl~t.
their happiness. Mirth and festivity, the song and th
dance, all lent their attractions and added to their felicitj
Ah ! did not that happy father and fond husband kno
that such happiness is not for earth ?
"Fear ye the festal hour;
"Ay, tremble when the cup of joy o'erflows !
"Tame down the swelling heart! The bridal rose
"Ami the rich myrtle's fl ower
" Have veiled thee, Death! "

Gayly the hours passed by; Ginevra was all gayety, hai
wild with excitement. As she passed Francesco, she whj
pered her intention of hiding, a11d challenged him and h¢
gay associates to find her. Soon were they all in search ii
the fair bride, and merrily they proceeded through the loft
halls, the dark closets, and secret apartments of that spa'
cious palace, which resounded with merry voices and laug .,
ter. Long they looked, but vainly; and, as the shades o
evening stole over the scene, wearied and alarmed, neai!
all the now dismayed guests retired to their homes, fo,
Ginevra was nowhere to be found. Donati and Francesco
half frantic, continued the search, which grew hourly mo~
hopeless. Week after week, months passed away, bu
nothing was heard of the lost one. Francesco, weary o
that life which was now deprived of all that endeared it
earth, joined the army of his countrymen
'.
"And flung it away in battle with the Turk."

-re ngth lo raise the cover. The chest easily held her fra• e form . . Trembling with joy and excitement, she heani
loved -and well-known tones of Francesco's voice, who
&'& 'foremost in pursuing her; when her hand, which held
e :~over ajar to admit the air, slipped and it fell," fastening
ef down for ever." The chest was constructed, for greater
9urity, with a spring, which locked as it was shut, and
eould only be opened by one outside touching a particular
ft.of the curious workmanship. But, before Francesco
reached the gallery, the lovely and unfortunate girl had
ceased to breathe in that closely shut chest. Many times
they passed the gallery, but they heeded not the hidingplace of the lost bride; which, alas! was destined to be her
gi,ave. No flowers could shed their perfumes over her
ave, watered by the tears of those that loved her. Her
,ate: was a mystery, and soon her memory passed away,
~~e . all the fleeting things of earth. And Donat~, - what
liid.- he to live for 1 In the beautiful language of Mrs.
Hemans, he might have said,

e

' ~~'1

1

It is enough! mine eye no more of joy or splendor sees!
I go, since earth its flower hath lost, to join the bright and fair,
.. "': And, call the grave a lovely place, for thou, my child, art there."

.,

'fl.,

E~amples for practice may be taken from any source
which the teacher or the student may select.

LESSON XXVIII.

t'

Donati still lingered around that home, so connecte
with the memory of her whom he idolized, who was
lost to him for ever ;
"And long might you have seen,
An old man wandering, as in quest of somethinf\",
Something he could not find- he knew not what."

And where was Ginevra 7 Half breathless with haste
she ran to an old gallery in the upper part of the palace,
fancying her pursuers had almost overtaken her. As sh
hastily glanced round the dimly lighted gallery, in searc
of a hiding place, her eye rested on an oaken chest, bea!J
tifully carved and ornamented by a celebrated sculpto
of Venice, which once held the robes of a prince of hell
illustrious race. Quick as thought, Ginevra exerted he·

1,01

ANAGRAMS.

. ~~ An anagram is the transposition of the letters of a word,
9r fehort sentence, so as to form another word, or phrase
with different meaning. Thus, the letters which Compos~
~e ,word stone, may be arranged so as to form the · words
nes., notes, or seton; and, (taking J and v as duplicates of
i .and u,) the letters of the alphabet may be arranged so as .
Jo.rm
the words Styx, P!tlcgm, quiz, frown'd, and. back.•
L

a

. •·' ,J;'ilate',s question to ~esus," Quid est veritas l" (What is truth 7) has
e,n happily converted rn an anagram to the words, "Est vir qui adest,"
t-ls the man who is before you .)
·
.,.,Jablonski welcomed the visit of Stanislaus, king of Poland, with his nowe' relatives of the house of Lescinski, to the annual examination of the

9*

102

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO
MODELS.

Astronomers,
Telegraphs,
Democratical,
Gallantries,
Democratical,
Encyclopedia,
Lawyers,
Misanthrope,
Monarch,
Old England,
Presbyterian,
Punishment,
Penitentiary,
Radical Reform,
R evolution,
Charles James Stuart,
Eleanor Davies,*
Dame Eleanor Davies,

Moon-starers.
Great Helps.
A nice cold pie.
All great sins.
Comical trade.
A nice cold pie.
Sly Ware.
Spare him not.
March on.
Golden Land.
Best in prayer.
Nine Thumps.
Nay, I repent it.
Rare mad frolic.
To love ruin.
Claims Arthur's seat.
Reveal, 0 Daniel.
Never so mad a Lallie.

For exercises for practice, the student may select his own
words or sentences. As it is a mere literary amusemen~
the exercise is not considered worthy of much attention.

LESSON XXIX.
OF GRAMMATICAL PROPRIETY.

Although the details of Grammar and grammatical rule
are not embraced in the plan of this work, it will be proper
students und e r his care, at the gymnasium o f Li~sa, with a number of ana:
grams, all composed of the letters in the wor<l s D om 11> / .r, ri11irr. Th~
recitations cl osed with an heroic dance, in which each yo uth c arried a
shield inscribed with a legend of the le tters. Arter a new evolution, the.
boys exhibite d the words Ades i11col1t111is, ne xt, Omnis e« /11 rida; nexf ·
Omne sis lucida; fifthly, Jllane sid11s loci; sixthly, Sis co/nmna Dei; and •
at the co ncl11sion, I scande wlium..
\:
Sir Isaac Newton was in th e habit of concealing his mathematical dis·
coveries, by d epos iting the principles in the form <•f anagrams ; by which ' :.
he might afterwards claim the me rit. of the invent.ion wit hout its being :i;stol e n by others.
..
* 'l'his lady fancied hers elf a prophetess, nnd snpposecl the spirit of
Daniel to be in he r, because this anagrn111 could be formed from her name '
But. her anagram was faulty , as it cont'1inecl an I ton much, anrl rm s too
littl e . She was completely put down by th e anagram made from the nam
JJmne Eleanor Davies ," Never so mad n latlie ."

l()3

present some observations, by way of review, with regard
those principles which · are most frequently disregarded
~forgotten by careless writers. Some remarks have al.a~y been made in Lesson XX. page 67, with regard to a
, '!;of the improprieties which are frequently observed, even
' w.riters of respectability . . The considerations now to be
~.red are presented in the form of directions.
1'-i · .. ·.

•

~IRECTION

1st. In determining the number of a verb,
gilrd must be had to the idea which is embraced in the
1bject or,nominative. Whenever the idea of plurality is
co~veyed, whether it be expressed by one word, or one
'uodred, and however connected, and in whatever number
m~:..:: subject may be, whether singular or plural, all verbs.
lating to it must be made to agree, not with the number
.r~he word or words, but with the number of the idea . conyed by the words.
2d. In the use of pronouns, the same rejilark applies, namely, that the number of the pronoun must
incide with the idea contained in the word, or words, to
~ich the pronoun relates.
If it imply unity, the pronoun
ipµsL be singular, if it convey plurality, the pronoun must·
.phiral. Th~se directions will be better understood by
"example.
: Thus, in the sentence, " Each of them, in their turn, reuivi the benefits to which they are entitled," the verbs and
_.Ynouns · are in the wrong number. The word each, although it includes all, implies but one at a time. The idea,
therefore, is the idea of unity, and the verb and pronoun
lhould be singular ; thus, " Each of them in his turn re~ves the benefit to which lie is entitled."
~'the same remark may be made with regard to the followsentences: "Every person, whatever be their (his) station;- is bound by the duties of morality." "The wheel
illed another man, who is the sixth that have (has) lost
heir (his) lives (life) by these means." "I do not think
. iii any one should incur censure for being tender of tlteir
~~is) reputation ."

· • DIRECTION

'n

og

, · nmECTTON 3d.
In the use of verbs and words which
. lpress time, care must be taken that the proper tense be
'. employed to express the time that is intended. Perhaps
· ere is no rule more frequently violated than this, even by
o~d ~riters; but young writers are very prone to the error .

104

AIDS TO

Thus, the author of the Waverley Novels has the followin
sentence "' :
i
" ' Description,' he said, ' was (is) to the author of a ' r
mance exactly what drawing an<l tinting were (are) to !
painter; words wei·e (are) his colors, and, if properly e '
ployed, they could (can) not fail to place the scene whie
he wislied (wishes) lo conjure up, as effectually before th
mind's eye, as the tablet or canvass presents it to the bodil
organ. The same rules,' he continued,' applied (apply) t
both, . and
an exuberance of dialocrue
in the former case
.
e
.
was (is) a verbose and laborious mode of composition whie
'
went (goes) to confound the proper art of the drama;
.'
wide)~ different species of composition, of which dialogue
was ( 1s) the very essence; because all, excepting the lari
guage to be made use of, was (is) presented to the eye b
the dresses, and persons, and actions, of the performer
upon the stage.'"
:
The author wai:; misled throuuhout in the tenses of the
verbs in this extract, by the te1~se of the verb said with
which he introduces it.
'
DIRECTION 4th.
Whenever several verbs belonging t~
one. co~mon subject occur in a sentence, the subject o
normnat1ve must be repeated whenever there is a change in
the mood, tense, or form, of the verb.
;r

5th. In the use of the comparative and su•
perlative degrees of the adjective, it is to be remarked, tha
when. two things or persons only are compared, the com•
parat1ve degree, and not the superlative, should be used
Thus, in the sentence, " Catharine and Mary are both wel
attired; but, in their appearance, Catharine is the neatest/
Mary the most showy," the superlative degree of the adjective is improperly applied. As there are but two person
spoken of, the adjectives should be in the comparative de•
gree, namely, neatci· and 11w1·e showy.
:r
DmECTION

DmECTION 6th .
Neuter and intran sitive verbs shouf
never be used in the passive form. Such expressions ·
was gone, is grown, is fallen, is come, t may be relied on

" See Parker'~ 12mo edition of the ·w averley Novels, Vol. XIII., p. I
t Although this. ~orm of expression is sanction ed by Murray, Lowth, a
?ther goo~ auth.0~1t1es, yet re~son and analogy will not justify us in assen~
rn~ to their dec1s1on; for, besides the awkwardness of th e expression it i
1
objectionable as being an unnecessary anomaly. But the author has beea

105

ENGLISH COMPOSITION,

a:,~although used by some good writers; · are objection-

bJe.1·,. , .

'i

1... ' .

7th. In the use of irregular verbs, a proper
tinction should be made in the use of the imperfect tense
d,.the perfect participle.
~e. 'don'e (did) it at my request; He run (ran) a great
aak·;',He has mistook (mistaken ) his true interest; The cloth
8.,wove (woven) of the finest wool ; He writes as the best
uthors would have wrote (written) had they writ (written)
~; the subject; The bell has been 1·ang (rung); I have
"/fo.,ke (spoken) to him upon the subject. These sentences
ar'e. instances where the proper distinction between the pre'1~~Je a~d participle has not been preserved.
IRECl'lON

DIRE CTION

8th.

The necn1tive adverb must be followed

i>y;Jhe ' negative conjunction~ as, "The wor~ is not capa-

ble of pleasing the understanding nor (not or) the imaginati9q.'? The sentence would be improved by using the conJu~ctions in pairs, substituting neither for not.
In the following sentences, the conjunction but is imtoperly used. " I cannot deny but that I was in fault."
flt cannot be doubted, but that this is a state of positive
l!~~ification," &c.

...,.·

.

lnftuenced in his rejection of such expressions, by the very sens.1ble and
"Conclusive remarks of l\Ir. Pickbourn, JO a very learned work, entitled" A
btisertation on the English Verb," published in London, 1789. Dr. PriestIn his" Gramma r," page 127, says," It seems not to. have b ~ e~ deter1111ned by the E~glish gra"?l!larians, wheth er the passive part1c1ple s ?f
erbs neute r reqmre the auxiliary am or have be for e them. Th e Fren ch, JO
thl1 case confine themselves strictly to the former.'' "His remark," says
Mr. Pickbourn, "concerning the manner of using the participles of !"rench
. aeuter verbs is certainly not well founded; for most of them are conJugated
with avoir, to have.''
. •Such expressions as the following have recently become very common,
aot only in the period~ca l publi c n~i,ons of the. day~ but ar.e !ikewise finding
flfor with popular wnters; as, " J he house 1s bemg built. ' "The street
ii being paved.'' "The nctions yiat are now being perf?rme<l," &c. "The
l'ltents are being prepare<l.'' 1 he .usage of tl.1e best wnte.rs does not sanction these exp ressions; and Mr. P1ckbourn, JO the work JUSt quoted , lays
'down the following principle, which is conclus.i~e upon the subj~ct.
, k;JVhenever the participle in ing is joined by an auxiliary verb to a nomrna. tiJ.e capable of the action, it is taken actively ; but, when joined to one
Jncapable of the action, it becomes passive. If ·w e say, '~he men ~re
building a , house,' the participle building is cvi~ently used rn an active
1enae · because the men are capable of the action. But when we say,
'The house is building,' or ' Pate nts are pre par~ng,' the participl e s building
and prepai·inu must necessarily be understood 111 a passive se nse ; because
aeither the h~use nor the patents are capable of action.'' - See Pickbourn
111 Cht English Verb, pp. 78 - 80.

1e7,

,, ,

.

106

ENGLISH COMPOSITION,

AIDS TO

9th. There must be no ellipsis of any wot
when such ellipsis would occasion obscurity. Thus, wli.e
we speak of "the laws of God and man," it is uncertai
whether one or two codes of laws are meant; but, ih th
expression, "the laws of God and the laws of man," tli
obscurity vanishes. A nice distinction in sense is made '\)
the use or omission of the articles. " A white and
house," means but one house; but, " A white and a rf
house," means two houses. In the expression, "She has ·
little modesty," the meaning is positive; but, by omittin
the article, " She has little modesty," the meaning become
negative. The position of the article, also, frequently mak '.
a great difference in the sense, as will be seen in the follow
ing examples : "As delicate a little thing"; "As a delicat
little thing."
/'
DIRECTION

;e

DIRECTION 10th.
The adverb should lllways be place
as near as possible to the word which it is designed t'
qualify. Its proper position is generally before adjectives,
after verbs, and frequently between the auxiliary and th
verb. The following sentence exhibits an instance of th
improper location of the adverb. " It had almost been his
daily custom, at a certain hour, to visit Admiral Priestman.''
'rhe adverb almost should have been placed before daily. · ~
DIRECTION I I th. In the use of passive and neuter verbg1
care must be taken that the proper nominative is applied
That which is the object of the active verb, must in al ..
cases be the subject or nominative of the passive verb,
Thus, we say, with the active verb, "They offered him
mercy (i.e. to him); and, with the passive verb, "Mercj
was offered to him ; " not, " He was offered mercy,'' be~
cause " mercy," and not ''he," is the thing which was
offered. It is better to alter the expression, by substituting
a synonyme with a proper nominative or subject, than to
introduce such con fusion of language, as must necessarily
res?lt from a change in the positive, fixed, an<l true signifi·
cations of words, or from a useless violation of grammatical
propriety.
.:i
In accordance with this direction,
6th,)
instead of
it would be better to say, :,.
He was prevailed on,
He was persuaded.
··
He was spoken to,
He was addressed.
She was listened to,
She was heard.

y were looked at,
~ approved of, .
• was spoken of,
li.Contended for,
~as t.h ought of,
' -O '.

, · as called on by his
.friend;
ese examples are com·mented upon with much
bumor, ·
~ was referred to as an
oracle,
r

i ~'

107

They were seen, or viewed.
It is liked, or commended.
He was named, or mentioned .
It is maintained, or contested.
It was remembered, or conceived.
He was visited by his friend.
These examples are ridiculed
with much humor.
He was consulted as an oracle.

.

12th. All the parts of a sentence should be
ostructed in such a manner that there shaJI appear to
hi' oo want of agreement or connexion among them. Thus,
· following sentence, " He was more beloved, but not so
.r~ch admired as Cynthia," . is inaccurate, because, when
,.Js ' analyzed, it will be, "He was more beloved as Cynthio,'! &c. The adverb more requires the conjunction than
!3i'it; and the sentence should be, "He was more beied than Cynthia, but not so much admired."
gain ; in the sentence, " If a man have a hundred
'ep, and one of them goes astray," &c., the subjunctive
d, have, is used after the conjunction if, in the first
' t of the sentence, and the indicative, goes, in the second.
th
these verbs should be in the indicative, or both in
.e subjunctive mood.
:No definite rule can be given, which will enable the
'arner to make the parts of a sentence agree in themselves
. d..~ith one another. They should be diligently compared
' Cl a similarity of construction be carefully maintained ;
bile the ]earner will recollect, that no sentence can be
ic)nsidered grammatically correct, which cannot be analyzed
)a,rsed by the authorized rules of syntax.
DIRECTION

of

':Eita~ples for practice, under these principles,. may be
.ound in Parker and Fox's "Grammar," Part II., or in
tfurray's " Exercises." It has not been deemed expedient
· " insert them here.

.i

108

109

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

i:~~'Avoid the injudicious use of technical terms; that is,
LESSON

XXX.

ON THE SELECTION OF WOHDS AND

Besides grammatical correctness, the. student who ai
at being a good speaker and a good -.ynter. m.ust pay atte
tion to the style, or manner of expressu~g lus 1<leas. ~ul
relating to this subj e c~ per~ain to the science of rh etonc: i
Perspicuity (by wl11ch is meant clearness t<~ the mm,
easiness to be und erstood, fre edom from obscunty or amb
guity) should be the fundamental quality of ~tyle; a?d th
study of perspicuity and accuracy of express10n requires a..
tent.ion, first, to words and phrases, and secondly, to ~h
construction of sentences.
OF WORDS AND PHRASES.

The words and phrases employed in the expression of ou1
ideas should have the three properties called purity, pr
pricty, an<l precision.
;
Purity consists in the use ?f. such words, an<l such C?.
st.ructions, as belong to the 1d1om of the language wh1c
we speak; in opposition to words and phrases th?t are tak
en from other languages, or !hat are ungrammat~cal, ob~1
Iete , newly coined, or used without proper authority. . ,~
Purity may be violated i.n three ?ifferent. ways. Firs
the words may not be English. This fault. is called a bq,

barism.

S econdly, the construction of the word ~ay not be in th
Eno-lish idiom. This fault is called a solecism.
i
,,.\Thirdly, the words and phrases may not be employed
D
:'a.A'\ xpress the precis~ meaning w.hich c~stom has affixed ,.
·\ (tr'P.y. \ them . This fault is termed an unproprzety.
.
' \
Propriety of language consists in the selection of sucli
words as the best usage has appropriated to those ide /
which we inte nd to express by them; in opposition to low
expressions, and to words and phrases which would be le~
significant of the ideas that we mean to convey.
.
,
There are seven principal rules for the preservation o
propriety.
1. A void low expressions.
2. Supply wor<ls that are wanting.
3. Be careful not to use the same word 111
senses.

ins'.or expressions, which are used in some art, occupa;<or profession .
Avoid equivocal or ambiguous words.
~ Avoid unintelligible and inconsistent words or phrases.
',Avoid all such words and phrases as are not adapted
he.
, ideas intended to be communicated.
(ec\sion signifies the retrenching of superfluities and
pruning of the expression, so as to exhibit neither more
:Jess than an exact copy of the person's idea who uses it.
TJie words used to express ideas may be faulty in three
· ects; . ,'First, They may not express the idea which . the
tor intends, but some other which only resembles it; -·.
.. dly, They may express that idea, but not fully and
.. pletely; thirdly, They may e xpress it, together with
IJiething more than is intelll..led. Precision stands opposed
·these · three faults, but chiefly to the last. Propriety im-·
s"a freedom from the two form er faults. The words
blch are used tnay be proper; that is, they may express.
idea. intended, and they may express it fully; but to be
ctse, signifies that they express that idea and no mo1·e.
r.J;'Jle "great source of a loose style in opposition to precis-- .
n~·. · is the injudicious use of words termed synonymous;
~jly are called synonymous because th ey agree in expressg .one principal idea ; but, for the mm:t pa~t, if not _al•JSJ~? they express it with some diversity in the circumnces.*
·
~hile we are attending to precision, we must be on our
~rd, lest, from the desire of pruning too closely, we retf1!pch all copiousness. To unite copiousness and precis- / to ·be foll and easy, and at the same time correct · and
.Oct in the choice of every word, is, no doubt, one of the
highest and most difficult attainments in writing.

·s..

.~

e

' See Lesson XIX. The stud e nt who wish es for exercises on the sub11 of purity, profriety, and precision, will find th e m in Parker and Fox's ·
mar, Part II ., pp. 78- 86, or in Murray 's Exercises, (Alger's Edi--

J•:'··

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110

ENG.LISH COMPOSITION. ·

AIDS TO

111

..o:. causes;

L .ESSON XXXI.
OF. . THE · CGNSTRUCTION OF SENTENCES

· Clearness 1: U.nity, Strength, and IIannony.
Sentences, in . ge~eral, should neither be very long, !id
very shol't; long ·ones require close attention to make ·u

clearly pel'ceive th e connexion of the several parts; aq~
short ones are apt to break the sense , and weaken the· coh
nexion of thought. . Y et occasionally they may both '. '
used with force and propriety.
. A train of sentences, constructed in the sariie mann·er
and with the same number of mem hers , should n ever Ire al·
lowed to succee d one another. A long succession of eit_~e..
long or short sentences should also be avoided; for the e,,
tires of either of them when too long continued. A prope
mixture of long and short periods, and of -periods various)
constructed, not only gratifies the ear, but imparts aninf'
tion and force to style.
·
. '.
The esseritic.i.I requ.isites of a perfect sentence are .cl~af~
ness, unity, strength, and · harmony.
. ··
· A sentence is Clear · when the meaning is easily unde
. stood, and the expressions a.re such as to leave no doubi ·~
what the \vriter intends.
.'·'i
By the unity of a sente11ce is meant, that it contains oi(_
principal idea; and that it has one subject or nominative
which is the governing \vord from the begi11ni11g to the end ·
By the strength cif a sentence is. meant such a choice an~·
arrangement of its words and members, as will exhibit th~
sense to the best advantage, give every word its clue weight
and force, and there.by comey a clear, sfrong, and full id~a
of the writer's meaning. · · ·
· ..
By the harmony of a sentence is meant its agr eeableness
to the ear. It requires ·such an attention to the sound. o
words and rnerribers as to avoid all harsh and disagreeabl
combinations, when others equally expressive can be select
ed. This property, however, should never be sought at the
expense either of _clearness; unity, or strength.
··

Of Clearness.
The first requisite of a perfect sentence is clcanzcss. . t
Whatev er leav es the mind in any sort of suspense as to
the meaning, ought to be avoid ed. · Obscurity arises from:

either. from a wrong choice of words, or a
·ong ;irrangement of them.
.T~e first thing to be studied is grammatical propriety.
ut· there may be an obscure· order of words, where there ·
_ :no transgression of any grammatical nile. The relations
of~ ~ords ; or members of a period, are ascertained only by
JJie position in which they stand.
rllence, in the. .arrangement of sentences the principal
~le is, that the words or members, most nearly related,
:ibould b~ placed in the sentences as near to ea_c h other as
ssible; so as to make their mutual relations clearly ap~.ar, : This rule requires particular attentio_n to the situa~~~ of adverbs, pronouns, and other connectmg words. ·. .

T!te Unity of a Sentence . .
,The second requisite of a perfect sentence is its unity.
unity of a sentence implies that it contains one prin~!J>al idea, and has· one subject, or no.minative,· which is the
ioverning worcl, from the beginning to the end of the sentence.
·
·
·
,
"In every composition, there . is always some con.n ecting
principle ·among the parts. Some one object · must reign
~ll~ be predominant.
But most of all, in a single sentence;
Ji~ required the strictest unity; for the very nature of a
~ntence implies that one proposition is expressed . . It may
consist of parts, indeed, but these parts mu~t be so closely
bound together, as to make the impression of one object
\ltipbnthe mind, not of many. To preserve this . unity of a .
·• ntence, the following ruJes must be bbserved.
~ 1, The

;- . Rules for preserving tlte Unity of a .Sentence.
.·1. During the course of the sentence, . the subject . or
nominative should be changed as little as possible. ·
··.;2. Ideas which have but little connexion . should be expiessed in separate sentences, and not crowded into one.
3. A parentliesis should not occur in the middle of a
· ntence .
. .4. The sentence should be brought to a full and perfect
close:
.
' I In obedience to the above rules, if there are a number
nominatives, or subjects which cannot be connected by
:conjunction, or thrown into some other case or form, the
-~ ntence must be divided, and the parts constructed in inpendent sentences.

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~

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112

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

Thus, in the account of a "Romantic Story,'' taken from
the Quarterly Rev-iew, the writer says, "The youth who·
had found the cavern, and had kept the secret to himself, ·
loved this damsel; he told her the danger in time, a11d per•
suaded her to trust herrnlf to him." ln this se11te11ce, there
is perfect unity. The word .11011tlt is the governing word,
and the pronoun lie, its represcnt:1tive, to prevent tautology;
is substituted, to avoid the repetition of the conjunction ,
and. · But the writer continues, "They got into a canoe; ·
the place of her retreat was described to her on the way to
it, - these women swim like mermaids, - she dived after
him, and rose in the cavern ; in the widest part, it is about
fifty feet, and its medium height is guessed at the same, the
roof hung with stalactites."
Here, every one of the rules of unity is violated. The
nominative is changed six different times. Ideas having no
connexion with each other, namely: Their getting into a ~
canoe, - the description of the place of her retreat., - tha
swimming of the women, - her diving and rising in the ·
cavern, - the dimensions of the cave, and the ornaments
of its roof, are all crowded into one sentence. The expression, "these women swim like mermaids," is properly a
parenthesis, occurring in the middle of the sentence; and
the clause, "the roof hung with stalactites," does 11ot bring
the sentence to a !jll and perfect close. The same ideas
intended to be confeyed, may be expressed as follows, without violating either of the laws of u11ity.
r
"As they got into. a canoe, to proceed to the cavern, the
place of her retreat was described to her. Like the rest oC'
her countrywomen, she could swim like a mermaid, and ,
accordingly diving after him, she rose in the carern; a
spacious apartment of about fifty feet in each of its dimen·
sions, with a roof beautifully adorned with stalactites." ' "\
The unity of a sent'e nce may sometimes be preserved by
the use of the participle instead of the verh. Thus: "The •
stove stands on a platform which is raised six i11ches and
extends the whole le11gth of the room." This sentence is
better expressed thus: "The stove stands on a platform, ·
six inches in height, and extending the whole length of tho
room."

Of the Stre11gtl1 of a Sentence.
The third requisite of a perfect sentence is strrngtl1.
Ily this is meant such a disposition and management o( ·

tlie several

113

words and members, as shall bring out the sense

. to the best advantage, and give every word and every mem-

ber its due weight and force.

·

· -A sentence may be clear, it may also he compact in all

its parts, or have the requisite unity, and .yet, by _some circumstance in the structure, it may fail in that strenrrth of
which a better management would hav~ proRules for presei·ving the Strengtli of a Sentence.

- I."

Take from it all words which are not necessary for
the full expression of the sense.
.
r .2. Pay partie:ular attention to the use of conjunctions, relalJves,"and particles, employed for transition and connexion.
, 3. Place the principal word or words in a situation where
they will make the most striking impression.
.
· 4. Make the members of the · sentei1ce rise in their im• portance above one another in the form of a climax, or lad. der.• When a sentence consists of two members, the longer· should generally be the concluding one. .
:. 5. Avoid .en~in~ the sentence wit~ an adverb, preposition, or any ms1g111ficant word, unless 1t be emphatical.
• 6. In the members of a sentence in which two thin<Ys are
~!11Pa.red or contrasted, where either n~sembla11ce or ~ppo­
ltlton 1s to be expressed, some resemblance in the language
or construction ought to be observed.

Of the IIannony of a Sentence.
Sound is a quality much inferior to sense; yet it must
. Dol be disregarded. Pleasing ideas, and forcible reasoning,
lose much by being communicated to the mind by harsh
and disagreeable sounds. For this reason, a sentence, beaides the qualities already enumerated, m1der the heads of
· Clearness, Unity, and Strength, should likewise, if possi·,ble," express the <p.rnlity of Jiarnwny.
., The rules of harmony relate to the choice of words ·
' their arrangement, the order and disposition of the mem:
.. bers, and the cadence, or close of sentences.
? If we would speak forcibly and effectually, we must avoid
. the use of such words, - I. As are composed of words al·
. ·ready compounded, the several parts of which are not easi.' ly, and therefore not closely united ; as, unsuccessfulness,
~

.

*See Lesson XLV., on Climax.
10*

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ENGLISH COl\lPOSITION.

AIDS TO

w1·onglteadedncss, tcndci-lieartrrlness. 2. Such as have the
syllables which immediately follow the accented syllable
crowded with consonants that do not easily coalesce; as,
qucstio11l1:ss, c!tronii:frn, wnv1:11ticl1:rs. 3. Such as have too
many syllables following the accented syllable; as, p1·ima-.,!
rily, cursorily, sun11narily, pei·cmptoriness . 4. Such as have
a short or unaccented sylhJble repeated, or followed by an·
other short or unaccented syllable very much resembling it; '
as, lwlily, sillily, low lily, farricry.
But let the words themselves be ever so well chosen, and
well sounding, yet, if they be ill dispo~ed, the melody of
the sentence is utterly lost, or greatly impaired .
r ,__
Though atteutiou to the words and members, and the
close o!' senteuces, must not be neglected, yet, in no in· ,
stance should perspicuity, precision, or strength of sentiment, "
be sacrificed to sound. All unmeaning words, introduced
merely to round the period, or fill up the melody, are great '
blemishes in writing. They are childish and trivial orna· :
ments, by which a sentence always loses more in point of :'
weight than it can gain by such additions to its sound.
The members of a sentence should not be too long, nor
disproportionate to each other. When they have a regular
and proportional division they are much easier to the voice,
are more clearly understood, and better remembered, than •
when this rule is not regarded; for whatever tires the voice
and offends the ear is apt to mar the strength of the ex·
pression, aud to degr:1de the sense of the author.
,
With respect to the cadence or close of a sentence, care' •
should be taken that it be not abrupt nor unpleasant. The ·
following examples will be sufficient to show the propriety '
-of some attention to this part of th e rule. "Virtue, dili· '
gence, and iudustry, joiuetl with good temper and prudence,
are prosperous in general." It would be better thus: "Vir·
tue, diligence, and industry, joined with good temper aud ,
prudence, have ever been found the surest road to prosper·
ity." An author, speaking of the Trinity, expresses himselr
thus: "It is a mystery which we firmly believe the truth of,
?nd humbly ad~>re th~ depth of-'.'. How m~ch better would !iii
it have been with this transpos1t10n: "It 1s a mystery, the <
truth of which we firmly believe, aud the depth of which - '
we humbly adore."

Rules for i·cndcring Sentences ltannonious.

1. Whatever is easy to the organs of speech is generally ,

115

agreeable to the ear ; therefore, such words should be pre,. ferred, and such an arrangement of the members of the
aentence adopted, as can be pronounced without dimculty.
I. ~. Loug words and those which are composed of a due
intermixture of loug and short syllables, are more harmo"· nious than short ones; and less ·fatiguing to the ear than
'~ those which are wholly composed of long or of short syllables.
, · 3. The harmony or melody of the different periods should
be varied ; and a proper succession of long and short sen,_tences kept up.
' ' 4. The longest member of a period, and the fullest and
~ - most sonorous words, should generally be reserved for the
conclusiou of the sentence.
5. The sound should, in all cases where it can be done,
, be adapted to the sense.
6., The hissing sound of the letters should be avoided.*
EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.

The student may correct the following sentences.

1¥ant of Unity.
The successor of Henry the Second was his son Francis
the Second, the first husband of Mary, afterwards Queen of
Scots, who died after a reign of one year, and was succeed,• ed by his brother Charles the Ninth, then a boy only ten
"· yenrs old, who had for his guardian Catharine de Medicis,
; "' an ambitious and unprincipled woman.

lVant of Purity. t
The gardens were void of simplicity and elegance, and
exhibited much that was glaring aud bizarre.

•

liVant of Propriety.

He was very dexterous in smelling out the views and deigns of others.
-" The pretenders to polish and refine the English language
ave chiefly rnultipljed abuses and absurdities.
•The rules relating to clearness, unity, strength, and harmony, should

be committed lo memory. The student who wishes a greater variety of
enmples for practice under these rules will find them in Parker and Fox's
Grammar, and in Murray 's English Exercises.
I See Lesson XXX.

116

AIDS TO

ENGLISH CO!llPOSITION.

Want nf Precision.
There can be no regularity or order in the life and
duct of that man who does not give and allot a due
of his time to retirement and reflection.
TVant of Clearness.
There is a cavern i11 the island of Iloonga
only be entered by diving into the sea.
JVant of Strengt!t.
The combatants encountered e ach other with such rage, that, being eager only to assail and thoughtless of making
any defence, they both fell dead upon the field together.
Want of llarmony.
By the means of society, our wants come to be supplied: ·
and our lives are rendered comfortable, as well as our ca· ·
pacities enlarged, and our virtuous affections called forth ·
into their proper exercise.*
·

LESSON XXXII.
SOUND ADAPTED TO THE SENSE.
"'Tis not enou gh no hnri::hnPss

give ~

offence ,

The sound must seem an echo of the sense."
ONOMATOPCEIA.

Onomatopreia, or Onomatopy, consists in the formation ·
of words in such a manner that the sound shall imitate the
sense. Thus the words buzz, crackle, Cl'ash, flow, rattle, .
roar, !tiss, whistle, are evidently formed to imitate the sounds' >1
themselves. Sometimes the word expressing an object is" ·
formed to imitate the sound produced by that object; as, :.
wave, cuclcoo, whippoorwill, whisper, !tum.
· · <.;
It is esteemed a great beauty in writing when the words - ~
selected for the expression of an idea, convey, by their, .
sound, some resemblance to the subject which tl1ey expres8 . ·
1
as iu the followi11g lines:
· . .'
The whitew11shed wall, the nicely sanded floor,
The , varnished clock that clicked behind the door.*
" See note on pages 109 and 115.
t These lines will not fail to recall to the memory of the

117

Of a similar character, and nea rly of equal merit, are
lbose sentences or expressions which in any respect imitate
' or represent the sense wh ich they are employed to express.
.Tims Gray, in hi s Elegy, beautifully expresses the reluctant
. feeling to which he allud es in the last verse of the following
' llanza:
"For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey,
This pleasing anxious being e'er resigned,
Left the warm prcci11cts of the cheerful day,
Nor cRst one lo11g i11g, li11gcri11g look behind!"
·, And Pope, in his "Essay on Criticism," in a manner,
though diffe rent, yet scarcely less expressive, gives a verbal
representation of his i<lea, liy the se lection of his terms , in
l~e following lin es:
."These, equal sy llabl es alone require,
"_Though ojt I he w1· the nprn vowels tire,
, ·.. While explet ives their feeb le aid do join,
~
And ten low word~ oft crap ht one dull line ."
~ \
11 A needle~s Al exa ndrine ends the song,
That, lila a wounded snake, drags its slow ltngth along."
"Soft iF< the strain, when Zephyr ge utly blows,
. :·. And the smoof It stream in smootha mm1.ho·s flows,
Ilut when louJ surges la:odi the sou ndiB g shore,
The hoarse, roug!t verse should like the torrent roar.
When Ajax str ives some rock's vast weigh t to throw,
, The line too labors, and the words move slow .
· Not so when swift Camilla scours the plain,
Flies o'er the unbending corn, and skims along the main."
These examples are elegant illu strations of' the fifth rul e
. ._ of harmon y, given in the last lesso n.
~ , •. As an exe rci se in this lesson, the student may select such
words as he can recall in which the sound bears a resem. blauce to the siguification.
,_dent those peculinrl y grnphic lin es of Virgi l, in one of which he describes
I.be gnlluping of' n hom e:
.
"({uadrupcdante pntrc111 sonitu 'luatit nngula campum.''
.-. and in anoth e r the appearance of a hideous mon ster:
"i\1onstrmn horrendurn in forma ingcns cui lum en ademptum. 11

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AIDS TO

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

LESSON XXXIII.

· ' A definition should generally be an analysis of the thing
defined, that is, it should comprise an enumeration of its
•principal qualities or attributes.

DEFINITION, AND DISTINCTION OR DIFFERENCE.

The object of this lesson is to accustom the student . to
acquire clear ideas of things, and to perceive distinctions '
and <l ifferences wherever they exist. Clear ideas of a sub;
ject must be acquired before any thing can be correctly said '
or written upon it.
A definition, 'as described by logicians , consists of two
parts, which they call th e genus and the dijjcrence. The
genus is the name of the class to which the object belongs. :
The difference is the property or properti es by which the
individual thing to be d~fined is distinguished from other
individuals of the same class. Thus if a definition is required of the word justice , we may commence by saying; " Justice is that virtue which induces us to g ive e very one .
his due." Here, virtue is the class to which the object be·
longs ; but this part of the definition may be applied to
honesty, another quality of the same class , as we ll as to
justice ; for "Honesty is also a virtue which induces us to
give every one his due." Something more , therefore, must:
be added to our definition, by which justice may be distin· .
guished from honesty , and this something more, in whatever
form it may be prese nted, will be the dijjerence which ex·
elud es honesty from the same definition.
ll!ODEJ, I.

.Jwtice.
Justice is that virtue which induces us to give to every 1
one his due. It requires us not only to tender every article
of property to its right own er, but also to esteem every one .
according to his merit, giving credit for tale nts and virtues
wherever they may be possessed, and withholding our approbation from every fault, how great soever the temptation.
that leads to it.
It will easily be seen from this definition in what the di}
fer ence lies, which excludes honesty from the de finition.:
Honesty, it is true , requires that we should rend e r to every
one his du e. But hon esty does not necessa rily imply the .
esteeming of every one according to his merit, giving credit
for talents and virtues,* &c.

..

MODEL II.

A Swallow.

:-. .1. A swallow is an animal. -This definition is not cor. iect, becau se it will apply also to a horse, or a cow, or a
dog, or a c at, as well as to a swallow.
'. · 2. A swallow is a bird. - So also is an eagle, or a goose,
and therefore this definition is not sufficiently distinct.
• 3. A swallow is an animal which has two legs . - And
·ao is a man ; and therefore this definition is not sufliciently
' exclusive.
•"' • ·4 .. A. swallow is an animal that has two legs, and wings.
-And so is a bat; and the refore this definition is faulty.
.... .·5, A swallow is an animal that has wings, feath e rs, and
I · hard, glossy bill.
Thi s definition appli es as well to all
: birds as to a swallow, and it is the re fore not complete.
• ·6. A swallow is an animal, ha ving wings , feathers, and a
abort, hard, and glossy bill, with s hort legs , a forked tail,
, and farge mouth, and exceeding all other birds in th e untiring rapidity of its flight and evo lution s. Its uppe r parts
1
are steel blue, and the lowe r parts of a lig ht, chestnut color.
It- seeks the society of m an, and attaches its nest to the
rafiers in barns.
• · This definition contains the difference, as well as the
class, aud may there fore be considered as sufficiently cor._ , reel for our present purpose.*
l\IODEL

Ill .

Elastic.
' ' The term elastic is appli e d to those substances that on
. being bent, or compressed, return to the ir form er state.
Thus a· bow, India rubber, air, nre elastic substances.
This definition exc lu des the application of the term elastic
to those substances which can only be bent or compressed.
The quality by which the substance is made to return to
ita form er state, must be included in th e definition , because
it is the d~fference by which the word elastic is distinguished
6-om the words pli able, fl exible, soft, &c.
• After explaining the mean ing, or giving the definition of
" See Parker and Fox's Grammar, Part III., No. 387.

" See the Lesson on Synonymes, page 54.

·- --120
JI
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AIDS TO

the terms in this Lesson, the student should be required lo
give an instance of the proper application of the word.

·1
EXAMPLES FOR PRA CTI CE.

i

I.t

Give a definition to the following word s, and point out
the distinction or difference between them aud other words,
which in some respects resemble them.*
Temperance. Incomprehensible.
To Disobey. ·'
Equity.
lnspissated.
Synthesis.
Tautology.
Eternal.
Evaporate.
Analogy.
Narration.
Infinite.
Mercy.
Comparison. Outlin e.
Omnipotent. Virtue.
Judgm ent.
Amplify.
..
Omnipresent. Vice.
Reasoning.
Composition. ~
Incarcerate. Honesty.
Description. History.
Explanatio11'. Grammar.
To Tran spose. Astrology.
Demonstrated. Astronomy .
To Disregard. Literature.
Indivisible.
Architecture. Excel lence.
Science.
Inevitable.
Analysis.
Activity.
Art.
The difference or distinction between two words,
sometimes be shown by an analysis of each.
MODEL.

Tlte di.ffcrence between the CapitAl and tln
country.
The Capital is the chief city, where the legislature meet
to enact laws, l-<.,c.
The Capitol is the building in which they assemble.
Th e Capital contains the Capitol.
The different parts of the Capital are streets, lanes,
squares, alleys, courts, houses, &c.
The different parts of the Capitol are halls, room s, closets,
fireplaces, doors, windows, stairs, chimneys, cellar, &c . .
The Capital is generally several miles in length.
The Capitol is seldom more than one or two lrnndred;
feet.
EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.

The student may now show by an analysis, the difference'.
between the follof ing words.
A bird and a beast.
A reptile and a quadruped. -:
A fish and a bird.
A clock and a watch.

* See Lesson on

Synonymes, page 54.

ENGLISH COJ\1POSITION .

An adverb and an adjective.
A verb and a noun.
A' pen and a pencil.
Geography and Grammar.
A bed and a sofa.

121

A field and a garden.
A horse and a cow.
A falsehood and a mistake.
A fish and a beast.
Mercy and justice.

The distinction or difference between two subjects may
likewise be exhibited as in the following
MODEL ,

Grammar, rhetoric, and logic are kindred branches of
tcience, but each has its separate department and specific
objects. Rhetoric teaches how to express an idea in proper
words; grammar directs the arrangement and inflections
of the words; logic relates to the truth or correctness of the
ldeiJ. to be expressed. Grammar addresses itself to the
· understanding ; rhetoric, to the imagination ; logic , to the
judgmen t., llhetoric selects the materials ; grammar combines them into sentences ; logic shows the agreement, or
disagreement, of the sentences with one another. A sentence may be grammatically correct, but rhetorically incorrect, as in the following extract :
"To take arms against a sea of troubles, and, by opposing,
end them."
~
Here every word is grammatically correct; but to repretent .a man clad in armor to fight water, is a mixed metaphor, violating one of the fundamental principles of rhetoric.
So, also, a sentence may be both grammat ically and rh etoric11ly faultless, while it violates logica l principles. Thus,
"All men are bipeds, and, as birds are also bipeds, birds
are to be considered as men."
EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE,

may show the distinction between the follow-.
Quack and charlatan.
Projector, sp~cu lator, and economist.
Bookworm s and sy ll able hunters.
Cant, prosing, puritanical.
The ,w0rd liberal, as applied to politicians, theologians,
aod plnlosophers; 1st, when assum ed by themselves; 2ndly,.
1' en applied to them by their adversaries. ·
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122

The different senses in which the word indcpendenr.e ia
used, as applied to nations and in<lividuals, to a man'•
character, opinions, and circumstances, is explained in the
following
MODEL .

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When we speak of a nation's independence, we mean,
that it is not connected with any other nation, so as to be ob-_;
liged to receive laws or magistrates from it? to p~y a r_evenu' ;
into its treasury, or in any way to submit to its dictates.
When we see a nation whose laws are framed by its own
magistrates, whether elective or hereditary, without regard .
to the pleasure of any other nation; where the taxes are
levied for the support of its own interest, and for the main~:
tenance of its own magistrates; where it is not necessary '
that the consent of another should be obt ain ed, be fore it ii
at liberty to make war upon a foreign state, or to enter into:
alliance with any fore ign power that they pl ease, - to that
nation cu stom gives th e e pith et " indepen<lc11t."
·
Nor does the submiss ion of a peopl e to the will
despot contradict its cla,im to be considered an independent
nation. The subjects · are, indeed, dependent upon the
caprice of a tyrant, and he has absolute powe r ov er their ·
Jives prope rty and political interest; Lut this internal sla·
very 'does not' ex.clu<le the m from being con si<lere<l inde- ·
pendent as a nation, and from takin_g a part, as ~uch, in the ·
disputes of ol her governments, provu~ed that the ir own ~111ter is not also subject to some foreign power. A subje~t
province becomes independent, when, finding itself strong
enough for its purpose, it throws oa: t~1e yoke ~f the ruling .
power, and declares itself free; and 1t is recogmzed as such
by other nations, if it succeeds in establishing its clai.m,
either by arms, or the consent of the government to which ,
it was subject.
A man is said to be ind ependent in hi s character, when .
he does not permit the opinion of the world to· influence ·his
actions. He is independent in his opinions, when he main;,
ta ins them in spite of ridicule, or the ideas of the rest of the
community. If he conducts himself according to these
opinions, carries into action his ideas of right an~ wrong,
though they be contrary to what every one else th mks,, he .
is independent in character. A man may be so subservient ·
to another, that he will disguise his own opinions, and UPi
hold those of the other. For some benefit conferred, ot
from the expectation of some advantage, he will stoop .to

123

alter the notions of his patron, pretend to guide all his
according to those id eas, and even regulate his con. duct by rul es which he knows to be wrong; and merely
IOr the sake of being permitted to expe ct a slight favor.
Such a man has no claim to independence of character or
opinions.
. When a person does not rely on the profits of his lrnsi.,, , qess for subsistence, lmt has laid up or received as an in~ .heritance a sum of money, the income of which is sufficient
. for his mainte nance, he is considered independent in his
circu ms tan ces.
: Independence is, in most cases, an excellent quality and
1late; but, whe n a man's independ ence of character leads
him to abuse, and refuse to conform to, the customs of his
. country, because he perceives in them something absurd, it
makes him appe ar ridiculous.
~'" actions

L E S S 0 N XX XIV.
ANALOGY, OR RESEMBLANCE.

' Analogy means a resemblance between two or more
things in some circumstances, which, in other respects, are
.entirely different. Thus, there is an analogy between a
: 1hip and a carriage ; because a ship is designed to cm·ry
· us over the water, and a carriage to cw·ry us over the land.
· But, in their shape and construction, they are entirely different.

'.

MODEL I.

Ii There is a close analogy between the wings of a bird, and
the fins of a fo;J1, The former enables the feathered tribe
. lo move aloft in the air; the latter empowers the inhabit, ants of the deep to pursu e the ir course through the water.
The one is provided with strong sinews to act on the air,
. the other with equal power to impress the wave; while
each ·is moved with equal facility in the el ement for which

. hj s ~esigned.
MODEL 11.

-.~iYouth and morning resemble each other in many partic-

. ulars. Youth is the first part of life. Morning is the first
part of. the day. Youth is the time when preparation is to be
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made for the business of life. In the morning arrangementa
are made for the employment of the day. In youth our
spirits are light, no cares perplex, no troubles ann.oy U.:
In the morning the prospect is fair, no clouds arise, no
tempest threatens, no commotion among the elements illl"
pends. In youth we form plans which the later periods of
life cannot execute; and the morning, likewise, is often
productive of promises which neither noon nor evening ca?.
perform.
EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE .

T!te pupil ma,y now dcsc1·ibc tlie analogy between t!te Joi·
lowing words.

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The wings of a bird and the
legs of an animal.
The wheels of a carriage and
the sails of a vessel.
The art of painting and the
art of writing.
Snow and rain.
Genius and the sun.
Intoxication and insanity.

125

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

Darkness and aflliction.
A watch and an animal.
Prosperity and brightness.
A tree and an animal.
Food and education.
The gills of a fish and the.
lungs of an animal.
Adversity and darkness.
Comfort and light.

LESSON XXXV.
FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE.

Figurative Language conve1·ted into Plain.

. •· Figurative language properly includes all of these differ•ent kinds of figures ; but the term is sometimes restricted
_" lo rhetorical figures.""
: ~ words that belong to one class of objects are frequently,
,.by a rhetorical figure, applied to other classes. Thus, the
wo.rds morning and evening properly belong to the day; but,
u they signify the jfrst and last parts of the day, they are
' 'IOmetimes used to signify the first and last parts of other
subjects. Thus, the phrase, "tlte morning of life," is often
used to express t!te period of yout!t, and the evening of life,
that of old age. "Tlte dawn," properly means the earliest part
of the morning, or of the day; and "twilight" expresses
the close, or latter pm·t of day. But, by a rhetorical figure,
these words are used to express the earliest and latest parts
of other subjects. · Thus, " the dawn of bliss," expresses
the ·commencement of happiness or bliss; and, "the twi: light of our woes," is used to signify the close or termina'tion of sorrow. "The morning of our joy," implies the
' earliest period of our enjoyment. "The eve of his depar. lure,'.' implies the latest point of time, previous to his de, parture.
·' The use of figures, or of figurative language, is, I. 'They render language copious.
2. The richness of language is thereby increased.
3. They increase the power and expressiveness of Ian. guage. ·
4. They impart animation to style.
Figures of speech always imply some departure from sim. plicity of expression. They represent, in a forcible manner,
the idea which we intend to express, and present it with
'I< ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Ficrure, in the science of language, is a departure from
the co~mon forms of words, from the established rules
syntax, or from the use of words according to their literal ··
signification.
·
A departure from the common fo1'1n of words is called a.
figure of etymology, or an etymological figure. [See Eli·

or

sion, "~·c., L1:s.rnn X _,¥
. VTI., page 88.J

f 1•

Holmes's "Rhetoric " enumerates a list of two hundred and fitly
ftgures connected with the subjects of Logic, Rhetoric, and Grammar.
, :i: 'l'he work is remarkable for its quaintness, and possesses some merit as a
,ii'c llOCabulary. His cautions with regard to the use of figures are so charac·teristic, that they may afford some amusement, if not edification, to the
1tudent. The following is his language with regard to Tropes and Figures.
i• 11 The faults of Tropes are nine t
1

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asm,

(~c.,

Lesson XXVII.,page 89.]

·.

A departure from the use of words in their literal signifi· ~
cation is called a figure of rhetoric, or a rhetorical figure.

[See Trope, ltletaplwr, page 126. J

2

3

4

5

"Of tropes perplext, harsh, frequent, swoll'n, fetched far,

A departure from the established rules of syntax is called" ,
a syntactical figure. [See Enallage, 1-Iypcrbaton, Pleo~

G

7

R

9

Ill represe nting, forced, low, Jow<l, beware."
;· "And the faults of Figures are six:
.

{·

1"· '·
;

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A·

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3

"Figures unnatural, senseless, too fine spun,
4

5

9

Over adorned, affected, copious, shun." (!!!)
"Rhetoric made Easy, by John Holmes. London. 1756."
11 *

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the addition of some. circumstance, which renders the- im· ,
pression more strong and vivid. Thus, when we say, "A
good man enjoys comfort. in the midst of adversity," we 'ex•
press an idea in the simplest ma~ner possible. But, as ·
there is an analogy between comfort and ligltt, and between
adversity and darkness, we may express the same idea in
figurative language thus: " To the upright there ariseth
ligltt in darkness." Here a new circumstance is introduced;
two. objects, resembling one another in some respects, are
presented to the imagination ; liglit is put in the place of
co1rifort, and darkness is used to suggest the idea of ado
versity.
Figures are divided into two kinds or classes :
words, and figures of thought.
Figures of words are called Tropes.
Figures of thought are v.alled Metaphors.
The word Trope, signifies a turning; and
transferring.
,
A Trope is the cliange or turning of a word from its · original signification.
_
Thus, in the sentence already adduced, " To the upright
there ariseth light in darkness," the trope consists in Zig/it
and rj,adcncss being changed or turned from their usual
meaning, and employed to signify comfort and adversity; '.
on account of some resemblance or analogy, which they are
supposed to bear to those conditions of life.
A Metaphor is a figure, in which the words are used in
their original signification; but the idea which they con·
vey is transferred from the subject to which it properly
belongs, to some other which it resembles. Thus, when we
say of a man, "He is the pillar of' the state," we use the
·word " pillar" in its common acceptation ; but the idea of
support, which a pillar implies, is transferred from a build·.
fog to the state; and our meaning is, that the man, by his
wisdom or prudence, contributes as much to the safety and
-security of the nation, as a pillar by its strength and solidity, does to the stability of a building.
Tropes and metaphors so closely resemble each other,
that it is not always easy, nor is it important, to be able to
-distinguish the one from the other.
·
In this lesson, figurative language is presented
student, which he is to convert into plain.

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ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

,-,127

MODELS.

.Figurative language. A poor hind nursed in he lap of
ignorance.
Same idea in plain language. A poor hind who had never
~en educated.
Figurntivc. The sun looks 011 the waters, and causes
·them to glow, and take wings, and mount aloft in air.
Plain. The sun shines upon the water, and causes it to
grow warm, and ascend in vapor till it reaches the upper
(

air.
Figurntive. The earth thirsts for rain.

. Plain. The earth is dry, or wants water.
Figurative. She had been the pupil of the village pastor,
the favorite lamb of his little flock.
Plain. She had been the pupil of the village clergyman,
the favorite child of his small congregation.
Figurntive. Man! thou pendulum betwixt a smile and
tear.
Plain. Man I thou, who art always placed between happiness and misery, but never wholly enjoying the one, nor
totally afflicted with the other.
Figurative. He found the tide of wealth flowing merely
in the channels of traffic; he has diverted from it invigorating rills to refresh the garden of literature.
Plain. He saw that men of wealth were employing their
riches only in the business of commerce. He set the example of appropriating a portion of wealth to the increase
and diffusion of knowledge.
F'igurative. They abhor the Author of their being. He
.never presents himself to their thoughts, but to · menace and
alarm them . They cannot strike the sun out of the heavens,
but they are able to raise a smouldering smoke, that obscures him from their eyes.
Plain. They absolutely hate God. They never think of
him except when they fear his vengeance, for their disre·gard and open violation of his laws. They cannot in sincerity disbelieve his existence, but they are able to obscure
their own minds by their false reasonings, and involve
·, themselves in such a train of darkeuing speculations, as to
· forget for a time the certainty of his omnipresence.
Figumtiv e. A stone, perhaps, may tell some wanderer
where we lie, when we came here, and when we went
but even that will soon refuse to bear us record :

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ENGLISH COJ\1POSITION.

Time's effacing fingers wi'll be busy on its surface, and at
length wear it smooth.
•
,
1~~
Plain. A stone, perhaps,·may be erected over our graves,
with an inscription bearing the date of our birth, and the·
day of our death; but even that will not last long . In the
course of time the stone will be mutilated or broken, and
the inscription be entirely destroyed.

Lands, intersected by a narrow frith,
Abhor each other.
\
Let freedom circulate through every vem of all your
empire.

EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.

T!te student may now cltange. tlte following figw·ative expressions into plain language.
The meek-eyed morn appears, mother of dews,
At first faint gleaming in the dappled east.
How reverend is the face of this tall pile,
Whose ancient pillars rear their marble heads,
To bear aloft its arched and ponderous roof,
By its own weight made steadfast and immovable,
Looking tranquillity.
The sunset of life.
The meridian of our days.
The magic hues of the clouds are pencilled by the sun. The winds plough the lonely lake.
The splendor of genius illumines every object on which
it shines.
A raging storm, and a deceitful disease, may both be encountered on life's troubled ocean.
The rainbow strides the earth and air.
Indolence is the bane of enjoyment.
The queen of the spring, as she passed down the vale,
Left her robe on the trees, and her breath on the gale,
Daughters of telescopic ray,
Pallas and Juno smaller spheres,--.
Science shall, renovated, beam,
And gild .Palermo's favored ground.
Each hill and dale, each deepening glen and wold,
Defies the power that crushed thy temples gone.
Dear are the wild and snowy hills,
Where hale and ruddy freedom smiles.
There is no flesh in man's obdurate heart.
It does not feel for man.

Hail to the morn, when first they stood
On Bunker's 11eight;
And fearless stemmed the invading flood,
And wrote our dearest rights in blood,
And mowed in ranks the hireling brood,
In desperate fight !
· 0 I 'twas a proud, exulting day,
For e'en onr fallen fortunes lay
.
In light.
Rising from thy hardy stock,
Thy sons the tyrant's frown shall mock,
And slavery's galling chain unlock,
And free the oppressed.
All who the wreath of freedom twine,
Beneath the shadow of their vine,
Are blest.
What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted !
Thrice is he armed, that hath his quarrel just,
And he but naked, though locked up in steel,
Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.
Youth is not rich in time; it may be poor;
Part with it, as with money, sparing; pay
·No moment but in purchase of its worth ;
And what its worth - ask death-beds, they can tell.
- - - Enter this wild wood,
And view the haunts of nature. The calm shade
.· Shall bring a kindred calm, and the sweet breeze,
That makes the green leaves dance, shall waft a balm
To thy sick heart.
Throngs of insects in the glade
·
Try their thin wings, and dance in the warm beam
'l'hat waked them into life. Even the green trees
Partake the deep contentment, as they bend
To the soft winds, the sun from the blue sky
Looks in, and sheds a blessing on the scene.

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131

LESSON XXXVI.

realer! The impropri ety of such mixed and inconsistent
. metaphors must be very apparent."'

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE, Continued.

lllOD ELS.

Plain Language converted into Figurative.

Plain language. Our misfortunes soon end, and we are
favored with prosperity.
' Same idea in.figurative language. The clou<ls of a<lver·•aity soon pass away, and are succeeded by the sunshine of
·prosperity.
Plain language. The waters falling from the rocks,
made a pleasing noise which I distinctly heard.
Figurative. I heard the voice of the waters, as they
merrily danced from rock to rock.
Plain. The water of the lake was w.ithout motion.
Figurative. The waves were asleep on the bosom of the
lake.
Plain. The grass grows in the meadows in the spring,
and summ er soon succeeds.
Figurative. In the spring of the year, the meadows
clothe th emselves in thei r beautiful green robes to welcome
the approach of summer.
Plain. He could not be seen on account of the darkness
of the night.
· Figurative. Night had shrouded him in her dark mantle;
·or, He was hidden in the shadows of the night.

The previous Lesson having intro<luce<l the student to
figurative expressions, the object of this Lesson is, to lead
him to form similar language himself. He will recollect,:
that analogy or resemblance • i.s its foundation ; and when, therefore, he is required to convert ~lain into figurative ·
terms, he must endeavour to call to mmd some other sub- ·
ject, which resembles the one proposed for his exercise.
In _applying the terms, phrases, and idea s, relating lo one
subjec t, to another that resembles it, or, in other words
in t!te use of 111etap!w1·s, the following rules are lo be o~
served.

I. Metaphors should neither be too numerous, loo gay,
nor too elevated, but suited to the nature of the subject.
2. They mu st be drawn from proper objects ; avoiding
all s_uch as will raise in the mind disagreeable, mean, or
low id eas.
3 . Every metaphor should be founded on a resemblance
which is clear and striking; not far fetched nor difficult to ·
be discovered .
'
4. Metaphorical an<l plain language must not be jumbled
together ; that is, a sentence should never be constructed
so that part of it must be understood literally and part
metaphorically.
'
5. Two different metaphors must not meet together on ·
the same subject.
6. Metaphors should not be crowded together on the
same object.
7. Metaphors should not be too far pursued.
It is a good rule, likewise, when we have written a meta·
phor, to make a picture of it, in order to see whether the
parts agree; a11<l what kin<l of lirrurc the whole ()resents,
'l'l 1us, when Shakspearc says, "tob take anns against a sw
of troubles," if we make a picture of this metaphor, we
must represent a man clad in armor, going out to fight
* See Lesson XXXIV.

EXAMPLES FOil l'llACTl CE .

Tite pupil will e2:press tlte following sentences in figurntive language.
She was number one in her class. (head.t)
He was the last in the division. (foot.)
, She was a person of very indolent habits. (taken possession.)
It rains, the clouds are black, it thunders and lightens.
(open a fountain, frown ed, roared, set on fire.)
He sunk in the water. (swallowed.)
• Mr. Steele, in l1is "l'rosotlia R atio11n/is," ha s resc uctl the Bard of
Alon from this in co nsiste nt metaphor, by the suggestion, that it wns
originally written, "To take arms against assail of troubles."
t The word or words in pare nth eses , attached to each sente nce are
siTen as hint~ to the student, to enabl e him to form a figure. He n ~eds
not to be required to use th e m, if he can perform the exercise without
usietance.

132

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ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

There are scenes in nature which are pleasant when we
are sad, as well as when we are cheerful. (speaks, smiles,
sympathizes.)
•
The number of people who are alive, is very small com·
pared with those who have died. (tread, slumber. )
The river flows through no country which is inhabited,
and 110 sounds arc made uear it, except what arc caused by
the moving of its own waters. (silence, solitude, hears )10
sound except voice.)
The hand of the clock moves round without noise. (time, .
silent tread.)
The wind moves rapidly, although it is seldom heard.
(wings, soug.)
Thou must pass many years in this world, where wise
men may suffer difficulties and hardships, and foolish pe.1sons must find trouble. (sea, long voyage, shipwreck.)
The wind causes the leaves to move . . (dance.)
Guilt is always wretch ed, and virtue is always rewarded.
sooner or later. (wedded, allied.)
Perfect taste knows how to unite nature with art, without
destroying its simplicity in the connexion. (wed, sacri·;
ficing, alliance.)
Virgil might almost be termed a plagiarist ; but he has
corrected the faults, and added to the beauties, of that .
which he has taken from others. (adorn a theft, polis.h
stolen diamonds.)

1. When some of the properties or qualities of living
creatures are attributed to inauimate objects. As,
A furious dart; tliirsty ground; a deceitful disease; the
(l11gry ocean. ·
Here the personification con sists in ascribing fury, tltirst,
deceit, and anger, which in reality are felt by living creatures only, to the inauimate objects, a dart, a disease, and
IAe ocean.
2. When in anim11te objects are represented as acting like
those which have life . Thus :
Lands intersected by a narrow frith ab!tor each other.
The calm shade
Sltall b1·i11g a kindred calm, and the sweet breeze
' ' 'l'hat makes the green leaves dance, shall waft a bairn
To thy sick heart.
The cool wind,
That stfrs the stream in play, shall come to thee
Like one that loves thee, nor will let thee pass
Ungreeted ; and sh11ll give its light embrace.
Here the words in Italic show in what the personification
consists ; n amely, in representing the lands abhorring, the
ahade b1·inging, the breeze wafti11g, the leaves dancing, the
wind stirring a stream, and playing, coming, and embrac-.

Vig.
3. When they are represe nted as speaking to us, or lis·tening to what we say.

LESSON XXXVII.
PROSOPOPCEIA, OR PERSONIFICATION.*

Prosopopreia, or Personification, is that figure by which
life and action are attributed to inanimate objects.
This figure may be considered as the foundation of a
large proportion of figurative language. Whe n we say that' ·
"tlte eartli tltfrsts for rain," or "smiles with plenty," we
represent the earth as a living creatvre, t!tfrsting and smil· ·

ing.

There are three degrees of this figure, namely,
" An attentive study of this figure will show that it is founded on
Analogy. See Lesson XXXIV., page 123.
'

133

Thus:

·

.

Hand and voice,
Awake, awake! and thou, my heart, awake!
· Green fields and icy cliffs, all join my hymn!
And thou! 0 silent mountain, sole and bare,
wake, 0 wake, and utter praise ..
Yet fair as thou art, thou shunnest to glide,.
Beautiful stream! by the village side ;
.· But windest away from haunts of men,
.T o sileut valley and shaded glen.
Here the !tand, voice, !tem·t, green fields, icy cliffs, the·
llOllntain, and the stream are represented as if they were
liltening to the speaker.
MODEL OF THE FIRST DEGREE.

The lmngi·y waves.
12

The joyous rain.

The surly storm •.

.....

..,......,--~.,......,-~~-..

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ENGLISH COMPOSITION .

EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.

MODEL OF THE THIRD DEGREE.

Pers011'ify the following subjects in t!te jfrst or
degree.*
Adversity.
Idleness.
Winter.
A brook.
Intemperance. Summer.
A waterfall. The earth.
Fire.
Mirth.
The wind.
The ocean.
The sun.
An earthquake. Folly.
A tempest.
The waves.
Pleasure.
Science.
Time.
Industry.
Rain.
Pain.
Fortune.

0 Switzerland! my !:OUntry ! 't is to thee
I strike my harp in agony; My country! nurse of liberty,
Home of the gallant, great, and free,
My sullen harp I strike to thee.
0 grave! where is thy victory 1
0 death! where is thy sting 1
0 solitude, where are the charms,
That sages have seen in thy face 1

MODEL OF THE SECOND DEGREE.

Plain expression. He drew his sword from its scabbard.
P erso11i.fication. At his command his sword leaped from
the scabbard.
EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE,

Personify the followi11g, in the second deg1·ee.
He is asleep. (sits on his eyelids.t)
He is in love. (throw a chain around.)
.
The laws contain the declaration that the murderer must
die. (to hand a sword.)
Ile who is pleased with natural scenery, can find iustrueo
tion and entertainment in every object which he sees.
(Nature speaks a langu age.)
·
In a few days we shall depart from the light of the suo,
a11d be buried in the earth. (Sun shall see, earth claim.) .
The sun cannot be seen through the clouds. (pierce
through.)
The air is so soft, that we are induced to take a walk.
(invites.)
The moon shines on the brow of the mountain. (gilds.)
The shadows caused by night pass away. (nursed.)
The hands of the clock were at nine. (points.)
The fire has been extinguished. (di e.)
The thunder among the crags appears first on one peak
and then on another. (leaps.)
" In personifying innnimnte objects, thin gs rcm nrlcnbl o for power, grealo
ness, or sublimity, are re presented as males. Things beautiful , amiable,
or prolific, or spoken of as receivers and containers, are represented u/•,
males.
t The words or phrases within the parenth eses
the student.

135

EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.

Personify tlte following subjects.
The scenes of early life.
Industry.
Intemperance.
Liberty.
War.
Indolence.
Peace.
Poverty.
The sun.
Religion.
Night.
Adversity.
• No object which has not dignity in itself should ever be
personified in this degree.

'·
LESSON XXXVIII.
SIMILE, OR COMPARISON ."

. A simile is the likening of the subject, of which we
1peak, to another subject having some similarity, in order
lo render the descripl ion more forcible and perspicuous.
In a strict sense, it differs from comparison, in which the
1ubject may have an obvious likene s~ . Ilut many rh.etoricians consider the terms as synonymous, and in this light
they are presented in this Lesson. This figure is extremely
frequent both in prose and poetry; and it is often as neces·
. · tary to the exhibition of the thoug ht, as it is ornamental to
•tho ln11g11agc in which that thought is conveyed.
• • · Every simile is more or less a comparison, - but eve ry comparison is

: aot a simile; the latter compares things only as far as they are alike ; but
Ille former extends to th ose thin gs which are different . In this manner

, lllere may be a comparison between large things and small, although there
can be no good simile.

-~

136

MODELS.

1. Wit and humor are like those volatile essences which
•
'
I
bemg
too delicate to bear the open air, evaporate almost as'
soon as they are exposed to it.
2. Curses, like chickens, always come home to roost.
3. A troubled conscience is like the ocean when ruffled ''
by a storm.
'· ·
4. Though my perishing ranks should be strewed in their '
gore,
"·
Like ocean weeds heaped on the surf-beaten shore.
5. An elevated genius, employed in little things, appears
like the sun in his evening declination ; he remits his splen·
dor, but · retains his magnitude; and pleases more, though
he dazzles less.
" See Lesson XXXIV.

··-

;;;;;;;,:;··---- ~

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

In all_ c_omp~risons there should be found something new
or surpns111g, 111 order to ple ase and illu s1ratc. Consequent•
ly th_ey must never be instituted between things of the same
species.
In a simile or comparison, the analocry * or resemblance
is expressed in form, and is usually pur~ued more fully than
the nature of a metaphor admits. Thus, when we say of a :
great man, "He is the pillar of the state," it is a metaphor; .
but when we say of him, "He supports the state like a pil·
Jar," which supports the weight of the edifice, it then becomes a comparison.
Comparisons are used for two principal purposes ; name- .
ly, to explain a subject, and lo render it pl easing.
It is necessary in a comparison, that it serve to illustrate ·
the object, for the sake of which it is introduced, and give
a stronger conception of it.
,
In drawing comparisons, the following rules must be observed :
I. Comparisons must not be drawn from objects, which
have too near and obvious a resemblance of the object with
which they are compared.
2. They must not be founded on foo faint and distant
likenesses.
3. The object from which a comparison is drawn, ought 'never to be an unknown object; nor one, of which few .
people can have a clear idea.
4. Similes, or comparisons, should never be drawn from
mean or low objects.

-

137

. 1 6. Charity, like the sun, brightens every object on which

··· il shines.
, ' t• · 7. As from the wing no scar the sky retains,
...., · The parted wave no furrow from the keel,
So dies in human hearts the thought of death .
I never tempted her with word too large ;
Ilut as a brotlier to a sister, showed
Bashful sincerity, and comely love.
EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE .

:· A comparison may 11ow be written fi ·om the following :
Virtue is like - - - . The more it is rubbed, the more
brightly it shines.
1,.A man of honest intentions is like ---,where we can
always see the bottom.
· A man of virtuous principles is like
. The winds
blow and the waves beat upon it, but it
. So, amid
the t~ials and troubles of life, though temptations assail and
· misfortunes threaten to overwhelm him, he stands unmoved,
, ind defies the impotence of their assaults.
.
· Intemperance is like - - - , which - - - . .
Benevolence is like th e - - - of heaven, which, fallmg
ailently and unobserved, seeks not to attract attention, but
to do good. It therefore runs not off in noisy streams, nor
in a swollen current, but penetrating through the
of
. its object - - - .
.
· ;. Religion, like - - - , presents a bright side to every
~ object, which is not wholly buried in earth.
. .' He who has no opinion .of his own, is like
, which
· ·~ . The man of deci sion is as the - - - , which
- - - ; the value of it is seldom

LESSON XXX'IX.

...

ANTITHESIS, OR CONTRAST.

~,; Antithesis is the reverse of comparison; for as the latter

" fo ·general

signifies, or is founded on resemblance, the former implies contrast, opposition, distinction, or difference.
12.

: I

138

AIDS TO

It presents two subjects in opposition to one another, for ·
the purpose of rendering their difference more apparent.
Antithesis, by placing subjects in contrast, prompts the
judgment, and is therefore a very common figure in argu·
mentative writing. It is freque ntly used when we wish IQ
give a clearer impression of our meaning ; to show the
truth or absurdity of an opinion; the excellence or inferi·
ority of a subject, or to exhibit in a strong light the particular points of difference or distinction between two things.
Antithesis is also used with great advantage in descriptions or representations of the power and exten t of a qual·
it y, as follows :
" I can command th e lightnings, - and am dust."
Again. In the description of the power of the steam·
engine, a late writer says : " The trunk of an elephant,
th at can pick up a pin or r end au oak, is as nothing to it:,
It can engrave a seal and crush masses of obdurate metal
before it, -draw out without breaking a thread as fine as
gossamer, and lift up a ship of war like a bauble in the air.
It can embroider muslin and forge anchors,- cut steel into
ribands, and impel loaded vessels against the fury of the '·
winds and waves."'*'

139

ENGLISH COMPOSlTION.

want of merit. Pride is the offspring of ignorance, - humility is the child of wisdom. Pride l~arde?~ the hea.rt,-:humility softens the temper and the d1 spo~1~10n.. Pnde. is
deaf to the clamors of conscience, - humility listens with
reverence to the monitor within; and fi~1ally pride ~ejects
the counsels of reason the voice of expenence, the dictates
~f religion; while hu1;1ilit.y, with a docile spi_rit, thankfully
receives instruction from all who address her 111 the garb of
truth.

Probability and Improbability of ~Milo's Guilt.
Milo was unwilling to cause the death of Clodius, at a
time when all mankind would have approved the deed. ls
it probable, then, he would e mbr~ce an occasion when he
would be sticrmatized as an assassm 7 He dared not destroy
·.his enemy e~en with the consent ?f the ~aw, ii;i a convenient place, on a fit occa sion, and without mcurnn~ dang~r.
Would he attempt it then in defianc~ of the law, m a_n m.. convenient place, at an unfavorable tune, and at the nsk of
his life?

MODELS OF ANTITHESIS.

.. The dr;finition of words is sometimes .given in tlze form
antithesis, for an example of wliiclt, see pages 120
• a11d 121.

Geography and Ifistory.

EXAl\IPLES FOR PRACTICE.

Geography descr ibes the countri es situated on the earth, ~
and the parts into which they are divided. Histo ry teaches
us the manners and customs of the inhabitants of those
co untries . The former relates to the habitations of man·
kind; the latter, to th e inhabitants them selv es. The one
embraces a view of the physical, the other describes the
moral condition of th e world. Geography may be consid·.
ered as the more useful, but history the more interesting
study.

Pride and Humility.
No two feelings of the human mind are more opposite
than pride and humility . Pride is founded on a high opin•
io11 of ourselves, - humility, on the consciou sness of the
" The author of Lacon very justly remarks; "To ex tirpate antithe1i1·
fr om literature altogether, would be to des troy at one s troke about eighl
tenth s of all the wit, nncient and modern, now cxisti11g in the world. 11 .
is a figure capable not only of the greatest wit, but some times of the grealo.
est beauty, and sometimes of the greates t sublimity.''

of an

: . .The fulluw ing sulljects may be presented in a;ititliesis.
..
·
.
.'

Virtue and vice.
Friend sh ip and selfishness.
Summ e r and winter.
Indu stry and indolence.
·~,. Religion and infidelity.
, A country with a good government, and one
of anarchy or revolution.
Peace and war.
·i · A contented and a restless disposition.
, Knowledge and ignorance.
A temperate and an intemperate man.
' Gratitude and ingratitude.
'l'he contented and the ambitious.

111

a state

140

AIDS TO

LESSON XL.
PARALLEL.

A parallel, considered as a composition, is a kind ~(.
comparison made to exhihit the rese mblance hetwee n two1·'
characters or writings, to show their conformity as ii i1
1
continued through many particulars, or in essential pointS.
The parallel is sometimes diversified by antitheses, to show .
in a strong light the points of individual distinction.
MODEL I.

Parallel between Pope and Dryden.
Pope professed to have learned hi s poetry from Dryden,
whom, whenever an opportunity was presented, he praised
through his whole life with un varied liberality; and perhaps his character may receive some illustration if he be
compared with his master.
·
Integrity of understanding, and nicety
were not allotted in a less proportion to Dryden than to
Pope. The rectitude of Dryden 's mind was sufficiently'
shown by the disrnission of his poetical prejudices, and the'
rejec tion of unnatural thoughts and rugged numbers. But
Dryden never desired to apply all the judgment th at he had •.
Uc wrote, and profossed to write, merely for the people;
and when he pleased others, he contented himself. He
spen t no time in struggles to rouse latent powe rs ; he never
at~empted to make that better which was already good, .nor :
olten to mencl what he must have known to be faulty. He
wrote, as he tells us, with very little consideration; when ·
occasion or necessity called upon him, he poured out what.
the present moment happened to supply, and when once it .
had passed the press, ejected it from his mind ; for, when ·
he had no pecuniary interest, he had no furth e r soli ci tude. ·
P ope was not content to satisfy; he desired to excel, and .
therefo re always endeavoured to do his best; he did not •
court the candor, but dared the judgment of hi s reader,
and, expect ing no indulgence from others, he showed none
to him self. He examined lines and words with minute and
punctilious observation, and retou ched every part with indefatig.able diligence, till h.e h~d left nothing to be forgiven.
For this reason he kept his pieces very long in his hands,
while he considered and reconsidered them. The only

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

141

· poems which can be supposed to have been. writt~n ~ith
111eh regard to the times as might hasten t~e1r publication,
were the two satires of Thirty-eight; of which Dodsley told
·1118 that they were brought to him by the author, that they
miiht Le f:~irly copied. " Eve~y line," said he, ''. was t~en
wnllen twice over; I gave lrnn a clean trnnscnp.t, which
he sent some time afterwards to me for the press, with every
line written twice over a second time."
His declaration, that his care for his works ceased at
their publication, was not strictly true. His pa~ent.al at&ention never abandoned the m ; what he found amiss m the
first edition, he silently corrected in those t~at followed.
He appears to have revised the Iliad, and fr~e.d .1t from s?me
of its imperfections ; and the Essay on Cnt1c1sm re.ce1ved
many improv ements after its first appearance. It will seldom be found that he altered without adding clearness, el, egance, or vigor. Pope had perhaps the. judgment of Dry- ·
den; but Dryd en certainly wanted t~ e ?1hgence of Pope.
In acquired knowledge, the supenonty mus~ be allowed
·to Dryden, whose education was more scholastIC, and "':ho,
before he became an author, had been allowed more time
~r study, with better means of in.for.mation . H~s mind.has
a larger range, and he collects 111s images ~nd 1llustrat1ons
rrom a more extensive circumference of science. D:yde.n
knew more of man in his general nature, and Pope rn hts
loco! manners. The notions of Dryden were forme~ by
1
comprehensive spe~ ulation, .an~ tl~ose of Pope by mmute
attention. There 1s more dignity m the knowledge of Dryden, and more certainty in that of Pope . . Po~try _.was not
. the sole praise of either, for both excelled .hk~w1se m prose;
' but Pope did not borrow his prose fro~ his predecessor.
. The style of Dryden is capricious and vaned ; th~t of Po~e
is cautious and uniform. Dryden obeys the motions of his
own mind, Pope constrains his mind to his own rules. of
composition. Dryden is so~ e times vehement and rap1~,
' · Pope is always smooth'. ~mf?rm, .an cl g~r~tle.
Dr~clen .s
. page is a natural field, nsmg mto mequ aht1es, and d1v~rs16ed by the varied exuberance of abundant vegetat10n;
Pope's is a velvet lawn, shaven by the scythe, and levelled
by the roller.
.
.
. Of genius, that power which constitutes a poet; th~t
quality without which judgment is cold'. and kno~ledge is
inert; that energy which collects, combmes, ami:ihfi~s, and
ani!llates ; the superiority must, with some hesitation, be

142

----.--·

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

allowed to Dryden. It is not to be
poeticnl vigor Pope had only a little, because Dryden had
more; for every other writer, since Milton, must give placel
to Pope; and even of Dryden it must be said, that if he ~,
has brighter paragraphs, he has not better poems. Dry.·'!1
den's performances .were always hasty, either excited by_ ~·
some external occas10n, or extorted by domestic necessity; ·~
he composed without consideration, and published without ·
?orrection. What his mind could supply at call, or gather .
rn one excursion, was all that he sought, and all that he rrave,t ·
The_ dilatory cautio~ of P_op~ enabled him to condens~ hi~·.
sentiments, to multiply his images, and to accumulate alP
tl~at study might produce, or chance might supply. If the -~
flights of Dryden, therefore, are higher, Pope continues '
longer on the wing. If of Dryden's fire the blaze is bricrht~ '
er, of Pope's the heat is more regular and constant. Dry· <
den often surpasses expectation, and Pope never falls be-, '
low it. Dryden is read with frequent astonishment and''
Pope with perpetual delight.
'
" ""
This parallel will, I hope, where it is well considered be. ;
found just; and if the reader should suspect me, as I ~us-' ·.·
pect myself, of some partial fondness for the memory of · .',
Dryden, let him not too hastily condemn me ; for meditation· "'J
and inquiry may, perhaps, show him the re asonableness of Al
my determination.
. f "<,;
MODEL II.

Parnllel between Jay and Ifamilton.

!· \.-

It were, indeed, a bold task to venture to draw into com: ·"
parison the relative merits of Jay and Hamilton on the fame·
and for~u~es of thei~ country, - a bold task, - and yet,' ..
bold as 1t 1s, we feel impelled at least to venture on opening ·
it. They were undoubtedly par nobile fratrum, and yet r
~ot twin brothers, - pares sed impares, - like, but_ un. '
hke. In patriotic attachment equal, for who would venture ".
therein to assign to either the superiority! yet was that
attachment, though equal in degree, fur different in kind·'
w!th Harr~ilton it wa~ a. sentiment, with .Tay a principle;
with IIam1!ton, ent~msiast1c pa~sion, with Jay, duty as well
as. love; with Hamilton, patriotism was the paramount law,
with Jay, a law sub graviori lcg_e. Either would have gone
through fire and water to do lllS country service and laid
down freely hi:; life for her safety, Hamilton with the rou11-1

143

ed courage of a lion, Jay with the calm fearlessness of a
man; or, rather, Hamilton's courage would have been that
-or'the soldier, Jay's, that of the Christian. Of the latter
ilmight be truly said ;

I

"Conscience made him firm,
That boon companion, who her strong breastplate
BuckleR on him, that fears no guilt within,
And bids him on, and fear not."

!-'' In intellectual power, in depth, and grasp, and versatility
pf mind, as well as in all the splendid and brilliant parts
which captivate and adorn, Hamilton was greatly, not to
IBJ immeasurably, Jay's superior. In the calm and deeper
wisdom of practical duty, in the government of others, and
etill more in the government of himself, in seeing clearly
the right, and following it whithersoever it led firmly, patiently, self-de11yingly, Jay was again greatly, if not immeasurably, Hamilton's superior. In statesman-like talent,
· Hamilton's mind had in it more of "constructive" power,
~ Jay's of "executive."
Hamilton had GENIUS, Jay had
· WISDOM.
We would have taken Hamilton to plan a government, and Jay to carry it into execution; and in a court
, of law we would have H a milton for our advocate, if our
,.•· cause were generous, and Jay for judge, if our cause were

-. just.
: The fame of Hamilton, like his parts, we dee m to shine
brighter and farther than Jay's, but we are not sure that it
.• should be so, or rather we are quite sure that it should not .
. For, when we come to examine and compare their relative
course, and its bearing on the country and its fortunes, the
' . reputation of Hamilton we fin<l to go as far beyond his
. practical share in it, as Jay' s falls short of his. Hamilton 's
civil official life was a brief and single, though brilliant one.
Jay's numbered the years of a generation, and exhausted
every department of diplomatic, civil, and judicial trust.
.In fidelity to their country, both were pure to their heart's
core; yet was Hamilton loved, perhaps, more than trusted,
·and Jay trusted, perhaps, more than loved.
' Su~h were they, we deem, in differing, if not contrnsted
points of character. Their lives, too, when viewed from
a distance, stand out in equally striking but much more
painful contrast. Jay's, viewed as a whole, has in 'it a completeness of parts such as a nicer critic demands for the
perfection of an epic poem, with its beginning of promise,
its heroic middle, and its peaceful end, and partaking, too,

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AIDS TO

somewhat of the same cold statelin ess; noble, however,
still, and glorious, and ever pointing, as f'uch poe m docs, to
the stars . Sic itur ad astra. The life of 1Ia111ilton, oil
the othe r baud, broken and fragmentary, begun in the dark.
ness of romantic i11tcrcst, runnin g on iuto the sympathy of
a high passion, and at le ngth breaking off in the midst, _
like so me half~told tale of sorrow, amid tears an<l blood,
even as does the theme of the tragic poet. The name of ~·
Hamilton, therefore, was a name to conjure with; that of
Jay, to swear by. Hamilton had his frailties, ari sing out.
of passion, as tragic heroes have. Jay's name was faultless, and his course passionless, as becomes the epic leader,
and, in point of fact, was, while living, a name at which
frailty blushed and corruption tremble<l .
lf we ask whence, humanly speaking, came such dispr1r•
ity of the fate between equals, the stricter moral s, the ha~ .
pier life, the more peaceful de ath, to what can we trace 1t :
but to the healthful po)ver of re li gion over the heart and
conduct? Was not this, we ask, the ruling secret? Ham·
ilton was a Christian in bis youth, and a penitent Christian,
we doubt not, on his dying bed; but Jay was a Christian,
so far as man may judge, every day and hour of his life, ~
He had but one rule, the gospel of Christ; in that he was
nurtured, - ruled by that, through grace, he lived, - rest·
ing on that, in prayer, he died.
.
Admitting, then, as we do, both names to be objects of
our highest sympathetic admiration, yet, with the r~am~ of
Hamilton, as the master says of tragedy, the lesson 1s g1v_en
"with pity and in fear." Not so with that of Jay; with
him we walk fearless, as in the steps of one who was a
CHRISTIAN as well as a PATRIOT.
EXAMPLES FOR

PRACTICE.

A Parallel between the Old and New Testament.
between the writings of St. P au l and St. John, ~ .
"
The character of Napoleon and of Washington.
"
Lord Bacon an d Sir Isaac Newton.
"
The Profession of the Law and that of Divinity.
"
The invention of the art of printing with the!
"
discovery of the application of steam to me··
chanical purposes.

ENGLI S H COMI'OSITION.

L.E: S SU N

M5

XL ! .

Al' ULU<:ul·:, F ,\llU:, lcllJIJLI·:, CJIA lc,\IJlo'., &. c .

An nllego ry is the representation of on e thing. liy a nother
f.nnlogous * to it. It 111 ay l.Je co11sidercd as a sen es or c ham
of couti1111e<l me taph or s.
· The ouly mate rial <lifTc re11 ce betwee n a ll ego ry and metaphor, bes id es th e oue be ing shor t a!1cJ t!ie other prolong ed,
ts, that a mctnpl10r alw;-iys exp lain s itse lf , by the wo r<ls that
are connected with it, in their prope r meaning; whereas,
in allego ry, som e thin g is in tc u<l e<l lllore than th e 11·ortls in
their lit eral s ig 11ifi catio11 i111ply.
·~· Apolog ues , parabl es, fables and riddles may all be con-.
· 1idered as allegories.
ll10DEL I. f

writing composition without the assist-.
imag inat ion is exp ressed in the ful-

Allcgor!J.

As I was reclining on e mornin g at the bottom of a beau-.
tiful garden, in nu arbour overhung with honey s uckle and
jesenmine of the most exquisite fragrance, I saw a most
hideous monste r standing be for e me. I tremblingly inquired
· bis nam e and wis h. H e rep! ied , in a voice of thund e r, " I
~the Genius of Comµosition, nnd am come to require the
tribute that is due to me." For a few moments I stood
amazed, not knowing how to reply. At length I was relieved by the approach of a beautiful nymph, who called
llerself Imagination ; at whose appe arance the hi<leous monICer disappeared. The sweet and soothing voice of this
beautiful nymph re liev ed my apprehensions; but, when I
awoke (rom my slumbers, I found it was but a dream.
/!

~Seo Lesso n XXXIV. , pa ge 123.

I This Mode l is given just as it was preseuted by the pupil, and without.
wrection; it be ing thoug ht more important to encourage the young, by
8owing what others of the same age have done, than to present a faultless .
llOdel.
t : \

13

146

ENGLISH COlllPOSITION.

AIDS TO

147

among her children were Faith,

MODEL 11,""

Patience, an Allcg01·y.
Patience was the child of Forbearance and Gentleness, and
they lived in the tow~ of Perse~ e rance .. When very young,
she began to exercise that vutue which was afterwardt
named from her. She was a ve ry extraord iuary child, and
it has eveu been said of her, that she could work all thingL
She had an aunt called Adversity, who troubled her verJ
much, but, it was observed, that the more she was subjected to the trials o.f this relation, the more brightly the
lustre of her character shone forth ; for, while he r uncl~,
Prospe rity , was near her, she seemed to have no opportuniti
of exercising her graces . She had a grandmother, (on her
mother's side,) named Meekness, and she seemed to · im·
bibe many of the qualities of that excellent lady. She also
had a grandfather, Goodness, whose blood seemed to run
in her veins in a la rge degree. All who lived in her neighbourhood used to say, that she was the lov eliest child they.
ever beheld . But, although so much adm ired, she had no
Prid e about her, though Vanity, an old man living in the
vicinity, used to lay a claim to relation ship with her. She
was very much troubled hy his daughters Selfconceit and
Fooli sh ness, but she never retorted in the le ast. Even thr.J
themselves could not say, that they had ever heard an angrJ
word proceed from he r lips, and, although th ey tried to di~ ·
turb and ruffie her uniform good nature , they never could
succeed so far, as even to be able to say, that she ever a~
peared to che rish a wrathful spirit. She had no Hatred
about he r, ne ither would s he foster S pite or Malice in her
innocent heart. She made rapid advances from <lay to
clay, in every good word and work, and her name even Ii..
came a proverb among all who knew her. Mothers madt
her an example to tlieir dau ghters, and fathers did noJ .
forget her when a<lrnonishi11g th eir sons. She became more
beloved and respected every day of her life, by all, for DO•
one .c?uld see her without admiring he r for her many good
qualiti es. She appeared to be compounrled of all the qualio!
ties that adorn the female character, without the least mi•
tu re of nnything bad. In due time s he was married to a
young ge nt~ ema n, by the nnme of Longsu ffe ring. Some Q( ,
* These models were both written by pupils in the public school of
city, of which the author has th e c harge .

thii

l\IODEL III.

Tlte Empire of Poetry .
JIY FON'fENELLE.
»

This empire is a very large and populous country. It is
· diYi<le<l, like some of the countries on the continent, into
. &be higher and lower regions. The upper region is inhabited by grave, melancholy, and sullen people, who, like
other mountain eers, speak a lan g uage very different from
that of the inhabitants of the valleys. The trees in this
part of the country are very tall, having their tops among
the clouds. Their horses are superior to those of Barbary,
being fleeter th an the winds. Their women are so beautiful
·as to eclipse the star of day.
·
The g reat c ity which you see in the maps, beyond the
lofty mountain s , is the capital of this province, and is called
•Epic lt is bnilt on a sandy and ungrateful soil, which few
lake th e trouble to cu ltivate. The length of the city is
many days ' journey, and it is otherwise of a tiresome extent. Ou leaving its gale, we always meet with men who
are killing one another; whereas , when we pass through
Romance, which forms the suburbs of Epic, and which is
larger than the city itself, we meet with groups of happy
people, who are has te nin g to the shrine of Hymen. The
. Mountain s of Tragedy are also in th e province of Upper
·' Poetry. They are very steep with dangerous precipices;
ind, iu consequence, many of its people build their habitations at the bottom of th e hill s, and inrngine the mselves
high enough. There ha ve been found on these mountains
tome very beautiful ruins of ancient cities; and, from time
to·time, the mate rial s are carri ed lowe r clown to build new
· cities; for they now never build nearly so high as they
. teem to hav e done in former times. The Lower Poetry is
tery similar to the swamps o f Holland. Burlesque is the
capital, which is situated amidst stagnant pools. Princes
1peok there as if they had sp rung from t.he dunghill, anti
all the inh abitants are buffoons fr om their birth.
·
Comedy is a eity which is built on a pleasant spot, but it
.is . too near to burle~qu e , and its trad e with this place has
much degrad ed th e m ann ers of its citizens.
1• I beg that you will notice, on the map, those vast solitudes

148

AIDS TO

which lie between High and Low Poetry. They are cal.lei
!he Deserts of Common Sense. There is not a single ci~f
m the whole of this extensive country, and only a few ~
tages scattered at a distance from one another. The interior of th e country is beautiful au<l fertile, but you need not
wonder that there are so few who choose to reside in it•
for the ent.rnnce is very ru gged on :ill sides; the roads a~
nar~ow an<l <lifiicult; and the re are seldom any guides IO
be fou!1d, wh~ are capable of conducting strangers.
, -;.,
Besides, this country borders on a provin ce where every
person prefers to remain, because it appears to be very ·
agreeable, and saves the trouble of penetrating into the
D eserts of Common Sense. It is the Province of False ·
Thoughts . . He~e we alwa~s tre:i d on flowers, - every thing
seems encha_ntmg. But its greatest inconvenience is, thu
the ground 1s not solid ; the foot is always si11king in the
mire, howeve r careful on_e may be. Elegy is the Capital,
Here the people do nothmg but comp Iain ; but it is said
that they find .a pleasure in their complaints. The city ii
surroun<led with woods and rocks, where the inhabitant
walks a_Ione, making _them ~he confidants of his secrets;
of t?e discovery of wluch he 1s so much afraid, that he often
co~.\nres tho~e woods and _rocks never to betray them .
,I
1 he Empire of Poetr_y 1s watered by two rivers. One ia
the River Rhyme, which has its source at the foot of th•
M_ountains of Reverie. The tops of some of these mou11o
tams are so elevated, that they pierce the clouds. Tho11
are called the ~oints of Sublime Thought. Many climb
there by extraord111ary efforts; but almost the whole tumble
down ag~in, and excite, by their fall, the ri<licule of those
who admired them at first without knowing why. There
are large platforms, almost at the bottom of th ese mountains ·
which are called the Terraces of Low Thoughts. There a~ .
always a great number of people walking upon them. At
~he end of these Ter~aces are the Caverns of deep Reverie.
Those who descend rnto them, do so insen sibly; being so.
much enwrapt in their meditations, that the.y enter the Caf•
e_rns before they ~re aware. These caverns are perfect Inby· '
rmths, and the d1Hiculty of getting out again could scarcol7
be believed uy those who liavc 11ot been t.I1 ere. Above
the terrac_es we sometimes meet with men walking in eas1'
paths , winch are termed the Paths of Natural 'l'houghts·
and these g:entlemen r~dicule, equally, those who try t~ ,
scale the Pomts of Sublime Thoughts, as well as those who ·

ENGLISH COJIIPOSITION.

149

Jiovel on the terraces below. They would be in the right,
t(. they could keep undeviatingly in the Paths of Natural
Thoughts; but they fall almost i~sta~tly into a s~are, ~y
entering into a splendid palace which 1s at a very little d1silnce. It is the Palace of Badinage. Scarcely have they
entered, when, in place of the natural thoughts which they
· tOrmerly had, they dwell upon such only as are mean and
·•ulgar. Those, however, who never abandon the Paths of
· Natural Thoughts, are the most rational of all. They aspire no higher than they ought, and their thoughts are
. never at variance with sound judgment.
Besides the River Rhyme, which I have described as isauing from the foot of th e mountains, there is another call~d
lhe River of Reason. Th ese two rivers are at a great dis·. tance from one another, and, as they have a very different
~ course, they could not be made to communicate except by
. canals, which would cost a great deal of labor. For these
- ~ canals of communication could not be formed at all places,
because there is only one part of the River Rhyme which
is in the neighbourhood of the River Reason, and hence
many cities situated on the Rhyme, such as Roundelay
and Ballad, could hav e no commerce with the Reason,
whatever pains might be taken for that purpose. Further,
it would be necessary that these canals s hould cross the
Deserts of Common Sense, as you will see by the map; and
· that it is almost an unknown country. The Rhyme is a
large river, whose course is crooked and unequal, and, on
account of its num erous falls, it is extremely difficult · to
' navigate. On the contrary, the Reason is very straight and
re~ular, but it does not carry vessels of every burthen.
. I' here is, in the Land of Poetry, a rnry obscure forest,
where the ra ys of the sun never enter. It is the forest of
'Bombast. The trees are close, spreading and twined into
·. each other. The forest is so ancient, that it has become a
aort of sacrilege to prune its trees, and the re is no probability
that the ground will ever be cleared. A few steps into this
forest and we lose our road without drea1ning that we have
· gone astray. It is full of imperceptible labyrinths, from
which no one ever returns. The Reason is lost in this
forest.
: ·'fhe extensive province of Imitation is very sterile. It
· produces nothing. The inhabitants are extremely poor, and
. . ~re obliged to glean in the richer fields of the neighbouring
· provinces; and some even make fortunes by this beggarly
13*

------- 150

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

occupation. The Empire of Poetry is very cold toward the
north, and, consequently, this quarter is the most populou~
There are the cities of Anagram and Acrostic, with several•
others of a similar description. Finally, in that sea which
bounds the States of Poetry, there is the Island of Satire
surrounded with bitter waves . The salt from the water~ '
very strong .and dark colored. The greater part of the
brooks of this Island resemble the Nile in this, that their
sources are unknown, but it is particularly remarkable,
that there is not one of them whose waters are fresh. A
part of the same sea is called the Archipelago of Trifles.
The French term it L' Archipel des Bagatelles, and their
voyagers are well acquainted with those islands. Nature
seems to have thrown them up in sport, ns she did those
the A'::gean Sea The principal islands are the Madrigal,
the Song, and the Impromptu_. No lands can be lighter_
than those islands, for they float.upon the waters.

or

EXAMPLES FOR I'UACTJCE,

The student may now attempt an nllegory showing The
To assist him in the
exercise, the following hints are offered:

• ' An apologue, or fable, differs from a tale, in being writ• ten expressly for the sn kc of the moral. If there be no
·· moral, there is no fable .*
' A ·parable is a fable, but is more generally used to de, nominate those allegorical tales in Scripture, which were
°introduced for the purpose of illustrating some truth to
- which they have a similitude. Such is that of "The
Prodigal Son,'' " The Sower,'' " The Ten Virgins."
, .An apologue differs from a parable in this: ~he parab~e
,'.· is drawn from events which pass among mankmd, and 1s
therefore supported by probability ; an apologue may be
founded on supposed actions of brutes, or inanimate things,
and therefore does not require to be supported by probability. £sop's " Fables " are good examples of apologues.
MODEL.

Apologuc.
' Sicily addressed Neptune praying to b.e rejoined to Italy:
"You are foolish," answered the god," 1f you do not know
- how much better it is to be a small head, than a great foot." t

danger of Ambition without Talent.

A snail despised the closeness of his shell, and sighed for:
more room.
He found the empty shell ofa lobster.
Ile took possession, and was envied by all his kindred. ·1
He one day perished with cold in a corner of his
house.*
APOLOGUE AND FABLE.

An apologue is a sort of allegoricnl fiction from which 'a .
separate meaning or moral lesson may be dr~wn. It is, in '
fact, but another name for a fable, in which animals, vege-tables, stocks, and stones speak and act as . monitors to·
mankind.
·' ~ As instances of the Allegory, which may be studier! and imitated m17
he rnc11tionerl, "'J'hr. Jlill of Science," a11d "'J'l1c Journey of a Day a
Picture of 1Iuma11 Life," by Jol11rno11; "Au l~;1stcrn Narrative" by Hawk..
worth, entit.lcrl, "No Life pleasing to God whi c h is not useful to Mnn"I
"Th':' -":ightieth Ps~)m o.f D?vid"; No. 55 of the" Spectator"; and "The
Pilgnm s Progress, wl11ch JS , perhaps, the lon gest all egory ever written.
To these may be added .a very recent little work of Charl e s Dickens en•
titled," A Christmas Card," which cannot be too highly commended foi
•the moral lesson which it conveys.
·
-

151

0

l·

FABLE.
MODEL.

T!te Belly and t!te JJlembers.

In former <lays, when the Belly and the other parts of the
body eujoyed the faculty of speech and had separate views
and designs of their own, each part, it seems, in particular
•. for himself and in the name of the whole, took exceptions
a·t the conduct of the Belly, and were resolved to grant him
supplies no longer. They said, they tho~ght .it very ha.rd,
that he should lead an idle, good-for-nothmg life, spendmg
, and squandering away upon his ungodly self, all the fruits
;, ' of their labor; and that, in ~hort, they were resolved for the
future to strike off his allowance and let him shift for himself as well as he could . The Hands protested that they
'would not lift up a Finger to keep him from ~tar~ing; and
tho Mouth wished he might never speak agam, 1f he took
.

'

• The word fah/ e is used he m in a confined sense , for, generally •peak-

ing, all liternry fabrications are fables. There are few n:iodern fables that
are sufficiently concise. Those of Gay often lengthen into tales, or lose
themselves in allegory.
.
.
.
·
t Italy, in its shape, resembles a boot. The pornt rn tlus apologue con1i1ls in the allusion to the form of the country.

.

152

.AIDS TO

·- --

~

-

-

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

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

the least bit of nourishment for him as long as he lived;
" and," said the Teeth, "may we be rotted, if eve r we chew
a morsel for him for the future." This sole mn league and
covenant was kept as long as any thing of that kind can be
kept; which was until each of the rebel members pined
away to skin and bone, and could hold out no longer.',.
Then they found there was no doing without the Belly, and ·
that, as idl e and insignificant as he seemed , he contributed
as much to the maintenance and welfare of the other parts
as they did to his.
. .
'

Application, or

· :e ·'~...----

~111oral.

This fable was related by Mencnius Agrippa to the R~.
mans, when they revolted against their rul ers. It is easy
to see how the fable was applied, for, if' the branches and
members of a community refose the government that aid
which its necessities require, the whole must perish together. '
Every man 's enjoyment of the products of his own daily
labor d epen ds upon the crovernm en t's beincr maintained in
a condition to defend and secure him in it.b The fable will
apply with equal force to the murmurs of the poor against
the rich. If there were no rich to consume the products
of_ the labors of the poor, none by whom public charity
might "keep her channels full," the poor would derive but
little fruit from their labor.

153

Is the prop of his ~ouse, and the end of his wealth.
Without it the soldier, th e seaman may roam,
. But woe to the wretch who expels it from home.
. Jn the whispers of conscience its ~oice will be found,
Nor e'en in the whirlwind of passion be drowned :
'T will not soften the heart, and, though deaf to the ear,
- "IT will mak e it acutely ancl instantly hear.
· But in shade let it rest, like a delicate flow er,
Or breathe on it softly,- it dies in an hour.*
\

•" Compa~i so n s, prover hi al speeche~, parables, and fables
mRy be easily converted the _one mto the other. Thus,
u The miser is lik e the dog rn th e man ge r, who would
neither eat the hay him self, nor sulfor the h~ngry ox to eat
it." This comparison may be converted mto a fable as
follows : " A dog \Vas lying upon fl manger full of hay. An
ox, being hungry, came near, and on:ered to eat of th~ hay;
but the env ious, ill-natured cur, gett111g up and. snarling at
him, would not suffer him to touch i~. Upon which, _the ox,
in the bitterness of his hea rt, excl a1med, A curse h g ht on
thee, for a malicious wretch, who will neither eat ~h~ hay
• thyself, nor s uffer others who are hungry to do 1t. . A
·."- proverb may be . extrac_ted from t_his f<~ble : "The env10_us
man distresses himself m the cons1derat10n of the prosperity
of others."

RIDDLE, OR ENIGMA.

CHARADE.t

~ n en igma, or _riddle, is an obsc~re speec h, or saying, in
a krnd of. allegorical f~rm, and _wnt_ten either in prose or
verse,_ des igned_ to_ exercise the n:irnd ~n discovering a hidden
m~an11_rg; or, 1t 1s a dark sayrng, in which so me known
thing 1s concealed under obscure lan g uage which 1s proposed to be guessed.

; . A charade is a syllabic enigma; that is, ~n enigma, the
subject of which is a name or word, that 1s proposed for

MOD EL,

'T was whispered in heaven, 't was muttered in hell
Aud Echo caught faintly the sound as it fell :
'
On the confin es of earth ' t was permitted to rest,
And th e depths of the ocean its prese nce confessed.
'T will b_c fou11d_ in tl_rc sphere, when 't is ri ve n asunder,
Il e seen 111 the lrghtn111g, and heard in th e thunder.
'T was allotted to man with his ea rliest breath
Attends at his birth, and awaits him in death·'
It presides o'er his happiness, honor, ancl heai'th,

• The thing <le scribed or hi<lc1en in this e~igma, and which is T;'ropo~ed
to be gu es se d, is the letter H. The l et~er 111 1s c:oncealed_ rn the tollowing
Lalin enigma by an unknown author of very anc ie nt date ·
"Ego sum principium mundi et finis seculorum; ,,
Ego sum trinus e l unus, et tamen non sum Deus.
The lette r Eis thus e ni gmatically <lescribed:
"The beginning of eternity,
The end of tim e and space,
The beginning of eve ry end,
An<l the e nd of eve ry place. "
The ce ldirate1l riihll c or the Sphinx , in cbss ic story , was this: "Whnt
•
animnl walks 0 11 four.legs in the morning, o n tw o al noo n, an<l on three in
the eve nin g 1 "
·
f 1·r
Jk
The answe r is Jl1an, who , in infan cy or the morn111g o 11e, wa. s or
, creeps on his hands and fe e t, at the noo n of l_if~ he w_alks erect, and Ill the
. evenin of his days, or in old age, supports In s 1nfirm1t1es on a staff.
t Ne~1rly alli ed to the e ni gma ~nd c harade, are the rebus, the paronomnsia or pun, and the ")ow _conundrum." fhey are mere plays upon

I

•

154

- -- -·--··~

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

.AIDS TO

discovery from an enigmatical description of its several syl· ·
lables, taken separately, as so many individual words, and ·
afterwards combined. A charade may be in prose or verse: ·
~

words, and aro scarcely worthy of consideration iunong- the departmcnll :··
of. grave composition. 'I'he Rebus approaches, or rath e r is in fact, picture
writing, or a representation of wprds by things. It is an enigmaticnl rep. '·
rcsontat.ion of somo name, by using- lir:urcs or pictures in stead of wordL
'l'he word is from the Latin language, and lite rally signilies, by things. 'I'hu1
a gallant in love with a woman named Rose Hill, painted on the border
of his gown a rose, a hill, an eye, Cupid or Love, and a well, which read1
"Rose Hill I love well." On a monume ntal tablet in thi s vi cinity, erected
for a family of the name of Vassal, there is the repre se ntati on of a vase or
cup (in Latin, vas), and the snn (in Latin, sol), thus forming the na·me
" Vas sol." This is s imilar Lo one form of the hie rogl yphics of the ancient ·
Ei;.rfitians.
•
r le Paronomasia, or Pun, is a ve rbal allusion in con se<ju e nce of word1
of similar sound, or of the same orthography, havin g different meaninga;
or it is an expression in whi ch two differe nt applica ti ons of a word present
an odd or ludicrous idea. It is generall y es teemed a low species of wiL
Thus , a man having a tall wife named E:xcperience obse rve d that "He had •'
by long experience prove d the bl essings of a marri ed life." Another hav- ·
ing unil e rtakcn to make a pnn upon any given su~jcct, wh e n it was proposed that he should make one on the King, rep li ed, th at "the King i1
not a subject. That .JJlajesty, if stripped of its externals, would remain G ·
jest!'
Puns are sometimes expressed in ve rse, and appear among collection1
of Epigrams. (See Epigram.) For example,
"I cannot move," yon clamorous beggar cries,
"Nor sit, nor stand;" if he says true, he lies.
Again.
\<Vhen dressed for the evenin g, the girls now-a-days
Scarce an atom of dress on them leave ;
Nor blame them; for what is an evening dress
But a dress that is suited for Eve?
Conundrums are the lowest species of verbal wittici s ms, and are in gen• ·
era! a mere r,lay upon the sounds of words, with out re ference to their sig·
nification. l'h e.r are genera!ly exp~essed in th~ form of a qu estion, :Wi~b · ·
an ans we r. Thus: When 1s a ship not a slnp 7 Answer. ·vVhen 1t 11
a-.t!,T011nd, or when it is a:flod!.. When is a door not a door 7 Answer.
When it is a-jar. What part of an animal is his elegy ? Answer. Hi1
L E G. If you were in an upper chamber of a house on lire , and the
stairs were a way, how would you get down 7 Answer. By the stairs. If
a de mon had lost his tail, where would he go to have it replaced 7 An· · ·
swei·. 'I'o the placP. where they retail bad spirits. If a hungry man on com- ·
ing home to dinner should find nothing but a beet on th e t able, what com- ·
mon exclamation would he utter 1 Answer. That beat 's all.
Such plays upon the sounds of words, without re fe rence t o their signifi·
cation, however they may amuse a vacant hour, or exerc ise the ingenuity
of those to whom they are proposed, can he considered in no other light
than as undignified, not to •ay childish dive rsi ons .
Of th e same c hara c ter may those willici sms be co nsi dere d, commonly
denominate d j ests and Joke.<. It would be futil e to atte mpt specim ens
eith e r of th ese kinds of pleasantries. Th ey are so various in the ir nature,.
that no spec imens ca n be give n, which would conv ey any thing like a clear
idea of th e ir !leneral character. It may be suflicient to observe, in gen·
era!, that the jest is directed at the object; th e joke is practised with the •
person, or on the person. One attempts to make a thing laughable, or

or

155

MODELS.

My first, if you do, will increase,
My second will keep you from _heaven,
My wltole, such is human_ capnce,
Is seldomer taken than g1vc11.
' · - Answer ad-vice.
'' What that which God never secs, kings see but sel. dom, but which we see every day 7
.Answer, an equal.

j;

LESSON XLII.
HYPERBOLE OR EXAGGERATION.

Hyperbole, or exaggeration, consists in magnifying an
-. object beyond its natural bounds.
.
· This figure occurs very frequently .m common co_nversalion ; as when, to represent the qmckn_ess of mot1?n, ,;'e
say "as quiclc as Zig!ttni11g," or," as swift as the wznd. b ·
Hyperbole should be sparingly used i but no rule can e
• given for its ~anagement, except that 1t must be under the
guidance of judgment and good sense.
MODEL.

The speech of Mr. Otis was so inter~sting and impres·
aive that the very walls listened to !us arguments, and
wer~ moved by his eloquence.
.
.
. .
h
\ [By this hyperbole a forcible 1mpress1on 1s given of t e
attention of every individual of the assembly, and the e.ff~~t
which the eloquence of the speaker had upon each m 1. vidual.]
EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.

.T/ie student may represent tlie following expressions in
.an hyperbole.
,-' The immense number of the stars.

rldi~ulous by

i~ .

m~nne~ 1? ~ne_ ~­

jesting about il, or treating
in a jc.s ti.ng
lem ts to excite good humor in others, or 111dulge 1t l!I ones se
Y JO log ~ith them. Jests are therefore .seldom harml ess; jokes are frequ~~~:y
allowable Nothin " is more easy to be made, nor more contemJ, 1 e
• h
made than ab j e st upon a serious or sacred subJect. "Ne 111 e cum
:ic~~." is ~ maxim which cannot be too strongly impressed on every
1 peaker and writer.

;

156

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

The brightness of a lighted room.
The splendor of a dress ornamented with jewels.
The aflliction caused by the death of a distiuguished
dividual. .
The number of persons in a crowd.
The loudness of a speaker's voice.
The smallness of an individual, expressed
which might be a mansion for him.
The size of a country expressed by the rising and set·
ting of the sun.
The thirst of an individual expressed by the
liquid he consumes.
The quantity of rain which falls in a shower.
The sharpness of a man's sight.
The stupidity of an animal.

157

LESSON XLIV.
INTERROGATION, EXCLAMATION, AND VISION.

When we would. affirm, or deny with great earnestness,
expressing the firmest confidence of the truth of our opinion, and appealing to the hearers for the impossibility of
1be contrary, we frequently put our assertions in the form
of a question or interrogation.
MODEL OF INTERROGATION.

God is not man that he should lie, nor the son of man
that he should repent. Hath he said it? and shall he not
do it 7 Hath he spoken? and shall he not make it good?
EXCLAMATION.

; Exclam ation is a figure of a similar nature, used only in .
animated writings, to express surprise, anger, joy, grief, .

LESSON XLIII.

· &c.

APOSTROPHE.

MODEL OF EXCLAMATION •

On the principle, that the mind is pleased with animated
beings in preference to those which are inanimate, a writer
sometimes calls 011 the dead or absent, as if living or pres- ."
ent. This is what is called apostrophe.
· ,··
.'

. ,. Good Heaven!

What an eventful life was hers!
VISION.

··

Vision, or sight, is the representation of something past

~o~ future as if it were passing before our eyes .

MODELS.
MODEL I. OF VISION.

0, my son Absalom, would God I had died for thee!

The author .of the following extract 1s speaking of the

Absalom, my son, my son!

alav~ trade .

. I hear the sound of the hammer,-lsee the smoke of
lbe rurnaces where manacles and fetters are still forged for

Soul of the just! companion of the dead!
Where is thy home, and whither art thou fled 7

Apostrop!tc also sometimes appears in an address
to an inanimate oqject; as,
.

\•.
. I

0 thou that rollest above, round as the shield of my fa. ,·
thers ! whence are thy beams, 0 sun! thy everlasting light t.
This figure is the result of strong
be sparingly used .

human limbs. I see the visages of those, who, by stealth
, and at midnight, labor in this work of iniquity, foul and
dark, as may become the artifi0ers of such instruments of
•• ~s~ry and torture.
MODEL II .

' ·.' Methought I heard a voice
, Cry, Sleep no more! Macbeth doth murder sleep.
MODEL Ill.

A vaunt and quit my sight!
Let the earth hide thee; thy bones are marrow less;
14

__

. ...,,.,..,...

158

159

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

Thy blood is cold ; thou hast no speculation
Jn· those eyes which thou dost stare with.
Hence, horrible shadow; unreal mockery, hence!

5. The state of society in large cities necessarily produces luxury; and luxury gives birth to avarice; while
1Jarice begets boldness, aud boldness is the parent of depravity and crime.
·~ G. 'Iloisterous in speech, in action prompt aud bold,
~ '
He buys, he sells, he kills, he steals, for gold .
... ·i '.Many beautiful instances of climax may be found in the
-11cred scriptures. See the following: Matthew, chapter x.,
Yerse 40; Romans, v. 3; x. 14; I Corinthians, xi. 3; iii.

LESSON XLV.
CLIMAX AND ANTICLIMAX.

Climax* called also gradation, or amplification by steps,
is the gr~dual ascent of a subject from a less to a higher
interest.
Sometimes the word or expression which ends the for· ·
mer member of the period begins the next, and so on
through the sentence.
.
. ,"
Climax generally forms an artful exaggeration of the cir·
cumstances of some object or action, which we wish to
place in a strong light.
llIODELS.

1. There is no enjoyment of property without govern•
ment; no government without a magistrate ; no magistrate
without obedience; and no obedience where every one
does as he pleases.
..
2. What hope of liberty is there remaining, if what it is
their pleasure, it is lawful for them to <lo; if what is law•
ful, they are able to. do; if what they are able to <lo, the?
dare do; if what they dare do, they really execute; and 1C
what they really execute, is no way offensive to you 1
3. What a piece of work is man ! how noble in reason I
how infinite in faculties r in form and motion how expre•
sive and admirable; in action how lik e an angel! in apprehension how like a God!
- <:o<
4. After we have -prar.tised good actions awhile, they ·become easy ; and when they are easy, we begin to take
pleasure in them ; and when they please us, we do t\lem
frequently; and by frequency of acts, a thing grows into I ·
habit; and confirmed habit is a kiu<l of sccoud nature; and
so far. as auy thing is natural, so far it is necessary, and we
can hardly do otherwise; nay, we do it many times when
we do not think of it.
* The word clima:r: is from the Greek language, and signifies a ladder.

lll.
Notice s!toulrl be talcen of lite number of steps, or partic. ~Jars, in eaclt climax.
EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE .

is required to ji.(l -t!te vacant places in
the sul/joincd. 'L'ltc figures witltin tlte parent!teses denote
_ the number of steps or particulars requisite to complete tlie
~ jgure as it is proposed; but if lie can finis!t it witlt a less
ft1J111ber, ltc sltould be allowed to do so .
. s. Children owe regard to their equals;
to their fel~ low pupils-; - - - to their superiors in age; - - - to
~ their parents, and fear, Jove, and reverence to their God.

(6.)
Teachers expect obedience from their youngest pupils;
from the rni<l<lle classes; - - - from the highest;
and - - from all. (it.)
Such conduct would have been wrong in a child; - - , in a youth ; - - - to a man; but in a person of his
knowledge, sense of propriety, duty, honor, principle, it is
in the highest degree reprehensible, disgraceful, nay, even
wicked. ( 4.)
, . .• Ignorance is to be regretted even in a child; deplorable
"' 10 - - - ; shameful to
; disgraceful to - - - ;
and despicable iu - - - . (5.)
Time is valuable even in the dawn of life; - - - m
.. the morning;
at noon;
when the sun is
· declining. How inestimable, then, its value to one whose
1u11· is about to set! What cou11tless worlds wou ld the sin. Der give, for but a morneut to lengthen out the dim twilight
. that precedes the night of death. (5.)
T.he conduct of children should be peaceful and contented at. home;
when abroad; - - - in school; and
,fo at church. ( 4.)

rxre a

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ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

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It is not commendable to wish for the property of others;
it is improper to - - - ; it is u11ju~t to - - - ; it is an ·.
offence to - - - ; it is a crime to - - - - ; it is punis1ia·
hie with death t o - - - . What shall we say then of him, ··
who, in the darkness of the night,\vhen mankind, in the
confidence of security, have permitted their watchful senSCI
to sleep, defies the obstacles of bars and bolts, breaks into
a dwelling, plunders the property, murders the inhabitanll1
and sets fire to their habit<Ltion?
···He who wantonly takes the life of a fly - - - ; ---t "
- - - ; - - - ; - - - ; - - - . How then shall we.
describe the wickedness of a parent who - - - , and '
- - - , wa11to11ly exposes her child to a lingeriug, cruel
death? (6.)
In filling up the preceding skeletons, the student will
recollect that each successive member must rise in meaning so as to express something of a higher and more im·
portant kind than that which precedes it. There is anotJi.:
er form of this figure in which the terms descend, as in the
following:
·
His offence deserved not the punishment of crucifixion;
nay, not of death; nay, not of stripes; nay, not of impri..
onment; nay, not even ~f censure; nor yet even of disap-.
probation.
See also Matthew, chapter v., verse 18.

LESSON XLVI.
ALLUSION.

Allusion is that figure by which some word or phrase in

'., a sentence calls to mind, as if accidentally, another similar
·or ~nalogous subject.
l\10DEL.

: .. 1. You cannot be to them "Vich Ian Vohr," and these
, .three magic words are the only "open sesame" to their
· feelings and sympathies.
· . [Here the words "open sesame" recall to mind t!tc c!tarm
: by which the robbers' dungeon, in the Arabian tale,* was
. , opened.]
. 2. There are many religionists of the present day who
D!ake it their sli.ibboletli to be able to tell the precise moment when the heart was converted to God. t
;; ·3. I was surrounded with difficulties, and possessed no
fi.ue by which I could effect my escape. t
,_Examples for practice may readily be framed by the student who attentively considers the close resemblance of
this figure to Simile or Comparison.

ANTICLIMAX.

The descent from great things to small is termed anticlimnx. It is the opposite of climax, and is allowable onl7
in ludicrous compositions.
MODELS.

1. And thou, Dalhousie, the great god of war,
Lieutenant-colonel to the Earl of Mar.

2. Under the tropic is our language spoke,
And part of Flanders hath received our yoke.

161

LESSON XLVII.
IRONY.
11
Irony is the intentional use of words which express a
eense contrary to that which the writer or speaker means
to convey, as when we oiay of one unskilled in grammar,
• u Admirable grammarian!"
When irony is so strong as to be termed bitter or cutting,
.it is Sarcasm. Irony turns things into ridicule, in a peculiar manner; it consists in laughing at an individual, under
, the disguise of appearing to praise or speak well of him.
•

• 'fho Forty Thieves.

. t Seo the Book of Judges, c hapte r xi i., verses 5, 6 .

. f

!

See the story of A,.iadne, in Lempriere 's Classical Dictionary.

1n

the use of this figure (allusion), it may be observed that the subject to

,which allusion is made should be readily perceived, and that it recompense, by its beauty or its utility, the digression necessarily made in introducing it.
14 ..

162

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- - -

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

The proper subjects of irony are vices and follies of all,
kinds; and this mode of exposing them is often more ef:'.
fectual than serious reasoning. The figure is, however;•
sometimes used on the most solemn occasions as will be
seen by the following
·
MODEL OF IRONY .

Cry aloud, for he is a god: either be is talking, or he ii'
pursuing, or he is on a journey, or peradventure he sleepeth, and must be awakened.
·
See 1 Kings, chapter xviii., verse 27.
MODEL II.

And Job answered and said, No doubt ye are the people,
and wisdom shall die with you.
·.
i

MODEL OF SARCASM.

In the name of common sense, why should the Duke ,"
of Bedford think that none l1ut of the House of Russclt
are entitled to the favor of the crown? Why should he
imagine, that no King of England has been capable of ·
judging of merit but King Henry the Eighth? Indeed, he
will pardon me; he is a- little mistaken : all virtue did not
end in the first Earl of Bedford; all discernment did not
lose its vision when his Creator closed his eyes. Let him
remit his rigor on the disproportion between merit and reward in others, and they will make no inquiry into the ori•
gin of his fortune. They will regard with much more sat.
isfaction, as he will contemplate with infinitely more ad·· ·
vantage, whatever his pedigree has been dulcified, by an
exposure to the influence of heaven in a long flow of gen-'·
erations, from the hard, acidulous, metallic tincture of the.
spring. It is little to be doubted, that several of his forefath e rs, in that long series, have degenerated into honor
and virtue.

LESSON XLVIII.
ALLITlmATION .

Alliteration is the repetition of the same letter at the be· ~
·ginning of two or more words immediately succeeding each ·
other, or at short intervals; as, bug- bear, sea-sick, and the
f and gin the following line :
'

}" "

163

Fields ever fresh, and groves for ever green.

·And the l in the following: Love laughs at locksmiths.
·The · return of such sounds, if not too frequent, is agree.able to the ear, because the succeeding impression is made
;with less effort than that which precedes.
Alliteration, as well as rhyme, is useful as an aid to the
. memory. Hence proverbs have generally one or the other
and sometimes both of these auxiliaries. Thus:
Birds of a feather
Flock together.
Fast bind,
Fast find.
The following are remarkable instances of alliteration :
The lordly lion leaves his lonely lair.
.
Begot by butchers, but by bishops bred,
How high his honor holds his haughty head.
How sweetly slow the liquid lay
In holy hallelujahs rose!
Let lords and ladies laugh and sing
As loudly and as light;
We beggars, too, can dance and fling
Dull care a distant flight.
Approach, thou, like the rugged Russian bear,
The armed rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger , &c.
Round rugged rocks, rude, ragged rascals ran.
Lean liquid lays, like lightly lulling lakes, &c.
'fhese in stances are not presented as models for imitation, but rather as exemplifications of the meaning of the
term alliteration. It will be sufficient to observe, that alliterations at the present day have fallen into disrepute;
and with good reason, lest the writer in pursuit of them
should be tempted to sacrifice sense to sound. Occasional._ ly introduced, and sparingly used, they are not perhaps obnoxious to strong obj ections. Karnes, in his " Elements of
Criticism," says: " \\There two ideas are so connected as
· to require only a copulative, it is pleasant to find a connexion in the words that express these ideas, were it even so
slight as where bot!t begin wit!t tltc same letter. Thus :
1 The peacock, in all his pride, does not · display half the
color that appears in the garments of a British lady when

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she is dressed e_ither fo~ a ball or a birtlt-day.' -Spectator,
No. 2G~. ~gam: 'H~d not my dog of a steward run away
as he did, without makrng up his accounts I had still heed
immersed in sin and seacual.'-Ibid., No.'530.
"'My life's companion, and my bosom friend
One faith, one fame, one fate shall both attend.'"•
EXAMPLES FOil l'llAC'rICE.

Tl~e student may cliange tlie terms in t!te following ez.
presswns, so as to present instances of alliteration. A tcord
of similar meaning may, in eacli pltrase or sentence be substituted, so as to exemplify t!te figure.
'

The royal lion.
The songs of love.
The pri~le of the sons of kings.
One belief, one fame, oue destiny shall attend both.
The flowing lays.
How the brilliant lake shines.
His proud head shall bow. ,
" The following is presented as a literary curiosity.
ALPHABETICAL ALLITERATION.
THE DUNKER HILL MONUMENT CJ:LEDRATION.

Americans arrayed and armed attend·
Bes ide battalions bold, bright beautie~ blend.
C hiefs, c lergy, citizens co11glomerate J?e testing de spots, - daring deeds debate.
l•:ac h _ey~ emblazoned ensigns entertain,_
l•.lo11 n sh111 g fr om far, -fan freedom's flame.
(,~1anl s. greeting guard~ grown grey; - guest greeting guest.
H1ghmrnded heroc•, hither, hom eward haste·
lnp:enuous. juni_ors joi!I in jubilee,
'
'
Kith kennmg krn_, -k111d knmving kindred key.
Lt?, lengthened hnes le nd Liberty li ege love,
Mixed ma s~es marshalled, .111011umentward move.
Note noble navies nea r; - no nove l noti on ·
Oft, our oppresso_rs overawed old Ocean ; '
P res un~ptuous princes! prist~ ne patriots, 'paletl,
Queen_ s quarrel questing quotas, quondam, quailed .
Rebellwn. roused,_ revo lti~g ramparts rose,
S tout spmts, sm1t1ng servJ!e soldiers, strove.
These th~illi!1g themes, to thousands truly told,
U~u rp ers Unjust usages unfold.
Victori ous vassals, vau ntings vainly veiled.
vVhere, wl11lsrnce, We bster, warlike Warren, wailed.
'~ c us_e 'xpletives 'xtraqueer 'xpressed,
Y1eld1ng Yankee yeomen zest.

ENGLISH COJ\IPOSJTION.

165

· The deceitful tiger.
The heed ful cat.
He forsakes his solitary lair.
By royal prelates commended.
In sacred hallelujahs listen ed to.
Let noblemen and high-horn ladies laugh and sing .
. Birds of the same plumage assemble together.
'l'he foiling towers with curling ivy bound.
Yet would the village commend my wondrous power.
And the blithe grandsire skilled in gestic lore
Has fri sked beneath the load of fourscore.

LESSON XLIX.
PARAPHRASE OR EXPLANATION.

' A paraphrase is an explanation of some maxim or pasaage in a book in a more cl ear and ample manner than is
expressed in the words of the author. It is in fact a translation of the author's meaning into simpler language, accompanied with such ex planations as will serve to render
the passage easily intelligible. The author's words, therefore, are not so strictly followed as his sense.
· Maxims* and proverbs* fr equently occur, which have
aomething of the nature of figurative language, and in some
respects resemble the nature and design of a fable. Many
'of them are also intimately connected with Allusion. (See
Lesson XLVI.)
MODEL.

Jlfaxim .
·" "Look before you leap."

Paraphrase or Explanation.
· This maxim impli es that we should engnge in no undertaking before we ha\'e serio usly considered the consequences; together with the probability of obtaining the ob• A proverb is a short sentence, express ing a well known truth or common fact, ascertain ed by experien ce or observation. A maxim is a principle generally received or admitted as true.

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ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

ject of our desire. We should also consider, whether
pleasures or the benefits which we promise ourselves,
worth the trouble they will occasion ; and whether
should not have reason to lament our participation in
affair.

t~e

are
we
the

EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.

Tltc student may now paraphrase tlte following.
Frequent droppings wear even stones.
Make haste slowly.
Haste is slow.
Truth lies in a well.
Let justice be done though the heavens fall.
Happiness has many friends.
Walls have ears.
Hunger breaks through stone walls.
He gives twice who gives soon.
Whilst we live, let us live.
Cast thy bread upon the waters, for thou shalt
after many days.

LESSON L.
NARRAT ION, WITH AN OUTLINE.

A short story, or tale, being presented to the student, and
an outline of the same given in different language, he is
required to fill it np in such a mann e r, as to exhibit the,
same narration in a variety of expression.
MODEL.

Poetus was condemned to <lie ; but was permitted to
choose the manner in which the sentence should be exe:
cute d. Arria, his wife, exhorting him to quit life coura·
geously, drew a dagger which she had concealed, and 1 bid·
din g him farewell, stabbed hersel f in th e breast. Then .
drawin g the deadly weapon from the wound, she presented
it to her hu sband, saying, I feel no pain from what I have
don e. That which you will suffer in following my example '.
is all that a!llicts me.

167

Outline of t!te above.

~ .Arria the wife - - Poetus, understanding - - condemned' to die, - - death he liked best, - - to die courageously ; - - farewell - - breast - - dagger - - preteuling - - Poetus - - not at all painful ; - - feel - JOU must give yourself - - example.

Outline filled up.
Arria, the wife of Poetus, understanding tltat lier liusband
condemned to die, and tliat lie was pennitted to choose
iohat death he liked best, went and exlwi·ted liim to die courageously; and, bidding ltim farewell, gave liersclf a stab in
tlae breast with a dagger she liad concealed under her gai·1ttnt. Tlten drawing it out of t!te wound, and presenting it
to Poetus, site said, " The wound I ltave given myself is not
at all painful, I only. feel for that w!ticli you must give your11elf in following my example.''

111as

EXAMP LE S FOR PRACTICE.

I. The Romans and Albans, bei ng on the eve of a battle an agreement was made between them , that three champi~ns should be chosen on each side, by whom the victory
ahould be determined. The Romans had three 1-Ioratii who
were brothers ; and the Curiatii, three others, likewise
· brothers, were in the camp of the Albans. These brothers
decided the battle. After fi g hting for some time, two of
the Horatii were slain, and the third, pretending that he
was afraid to encounter the three Curiatii, fled. Having
drawn the m asunder, he turned and slew the m one by one
in single combat, and by these means decided the battle in
favor of the Romans.

· '., · Outline of tlte above, to be filled up by tlie student.
-, The Romans - - Albans, - - agreed - - three champions - - in each camp three brothers, - - 1-Ioratii - Romans, - - Curiatii - - Albans, - - two of the Ro- mans were slain, - - the third Roman - - feigned fear,
· --:- <lrew his adversaries asum.ler - - victory for the
Romans.
2. Decebalus , king of Dacia, ha<l often deceived the Roman emperor Trajan. The emperor of Rome finally took
him prisoner and subdued his kingdom. After the death

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of Decebalus, Trajan educated his son with the intention o(
restoring him to his father's throne in Dacia ; but, seeing ,
him break into an orchard, he asked him at night where he
had been. The boy replied, in school. Trajan was 80
offended with this falsehoo<l, that neither the Dacians nor
the Romans could induce him to fulfil his intentions; for,
said he, one who begins thus early to be a liar can never
deserve to be a king.

ENGLISH C0!11POSITION.

LESSON

169

LI.

NARRATION FROM DETACHIW SENTENCES.

The stu<lent may uow be required to write a connected
narrative from detached seutences.
MODEL.

Outline.

Story in detached sentences.

Trajan, - - Decebalus, King of the Dacians, - - tool:
him and subdued his kingdom; - - educating his son_..:;.
restore him - - break into an orchard - - ali:ernoon in school; - - offended - - Dacians and Romans~ .
do what he intended, - - prevaricate so early - - desen-e
a crown.
•

·, Plancus was proscribed by the Triumvirs, and forced to.
abscond.
His slaves were put to the torture, but refused to discover him.
New torments were prepared to force them to discover

3. The King of Spa).p gave the Duke of Ossuna leave to.
· release some galley slav!s. The Duke, as he went among the
benches of slaves at th•.~ar, asked a number of them, for
what crime they had been condemned. All endeavoured to
convince him, that they were unjustly condemned. One
said, that he was condemned by malice, another by bribery,
There was one sturdy little fellow, however, that confessed, that he had robbed a man of his purse on the high- '
way, to keep his family from stan;ing. The Duke, hearing
this, gave him several strokes on the back, with a little
stick he had in his hand, saying, You rogue, get you gone
from the company of honest men. So the one that con.:
fessed his fault was released, while the rest remained at
their labors.

Outline.
- - of Ossuna - - King - ·- slaves - - galley.-~
what their offences - - malice - - bribery - - sturdy ,
fellow - - justly - - took a purse - - hicrhway starving. - - the Duke - - stick - - blows"'--. Begone - - you have no business - - freed - - tug a
the oar.

him.
'· Plancus ma<le his appearance, and offered himself to,
death.
This generosity of PJancus made the Triumvirs pardon,

him.
They said, Plancus only was worthy of so good servants, .
' and the servants only were worthy of so good a master.

Same in a connected narrative.
,. Plancus, a Roman citizen, being proscribed by the Tri-umvirs, Antony, Lepidus, and Octavius, was forced to abICOnd. His slaves, though put to the torture, refused to
discover him. New torments being prepared, - to prevent
fa~ther distress to servants that were so faithful to him,
Plancus appeared, and offered his throat to the swords of
the executioners. An example so noble of mutual affection
betwixt a master and bis slaves, procured a pardon to Plancus; and Rome declared, that PJancus only was worthy of
' io good servants, and they only were worthy of so good a.
master.
EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.

T/1e student will now write a connected narrative from ·

·IM following rlctac!tcd sentences.
].

The city of the Falerii was besieged by Camillus, general of the Romans .
• A school-master decoyed the children of the principal:
citizens into the Roman camp.
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170

171

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ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

He told Camillus that the possession of
would soon make the citizens surrender.
Camillus told him, the Romaus loved courage, but hated ·
treachery.
He ordered the school-master to have his hands bound,'
and to be whipped back into the city by the boys.
··
The citizens were charmed with this generous behaviour«
of Camillus, and immediately submitted to the Romans:

}, A description* of the place, or scene, of the actions
related.
'" 2. The persons concerned in the narration.
. · 3. The time, postures, state of mind, associations, or
• trains of thought, &c., of the circumstances and individu.· ale mentioned.

2.

Calais revolted from the English, and was retaken by
Ed ward the Third. In revenge for their treachery, he or··
dered them to choose six citizens to he put to death.
~.
·while all were stru c k with 11orror at this se ulcuce1
Eustace de St. Pierre offere d himself for one.
Five more soon joined him; and they came with halters
about their necks to Edw:trd.
He ordered them to be executed ; but his queen pleaded
so powerfully for them, thal he panlon ed them .
.
The queen not only entertained them sumptuously in her
own tent, but sent them back loaded with presents.
3.

Cneius Domitius, tribune of the Roman people, had great
enmity against l\'Iarcus Seamus, chief of the senate.
He accused him publicly of several high crimes and misdemeanors.
.
A slave of Scaurus, through hope of rew ard, offered him- ..
self as a witness against his master.
Domitius ordered him to be bound, and
master.
This generous act.ion of Domitius was much
the people.
4
·
Honors were heaped upon him without end.
He was successively elected consul, censor, and
priest.

, _111 amplified or extended nm-rations, t!te student must be
·. particularly careful, that !tis sentences are clear ,t and that
llae connectives are rn-operly applied. In this Lesson, a
(liort narration is presented for t!te student to amplify , or
mlarge. The model 7n·esen ts several degrees of amplification, and it is rcwmmcndr.d to t!te teacher to require similai·
"dtgrccs ji·om t!tc stadmt.
MODEL.

S!tort Narrative.
Damon, having been condemned to death by Dionysius,
obtained pe rmi ss ion to take leave of his family, Pythias, his
· friend, pledging his life for his return on the day of ex·• ecution. He faithfully return ed, and Dionysius was · so
pleased wi th th ei r mutual attachment, that he not only par·doned them, but took them both into favor.

Same Story amplified.
...

f

Damon and Pythias were intimate friends. Damon, being condemn ed to death by Dionysius, the tyrant, demanded
·. liberty to go home to set his affairs in order; and his friend
-offered himself to be his surety, and to submit to death if
Damon should not return. Every one was in expectation
what would be the event, and every one bega n to condemn
, Pythias for so rash an action ; but he, confident of the integrity of his friend, waited the appointed time with alacrity.
.Damon, strict to his engagement, returned at the appointed
time. Dionyi;ius, admiring their mutual fidelity, pardoned
Da!llon, and prayed to have the friendship of two such worthy. men.

Same Story more amplified.

L E S S 0. N L I I.
NARRATION AMPLIFIED.

The following particulars are generally embraced in nar· ,
rations, viz :

~t

Damon, being condemned to death by Dionysius, tyrant
Syracuse, obtained liberty to visit his wife and children ;

• Description is mad e the subjec t of a subsequent Lesson.
f See Clearness, Lesson XXXI., page 110.

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ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

leaving his friend, Pythias, as a pledge for his return, on
condition, that, if he failed, Pythias should suffer in hia
stead. Damon not appearing at the time appointed, the
tyrant had the curiosity to visit Pythias i11 prison. "What •
a fool were you," said he, "to rely on Damon's promise!
How could you imagine, that he would sacrifice his life fo,r
you, or for any man 7" "My Lord," said Pythias, with a ~
firm voice and noble aspect, " I would suffer a thousand ·
deaths rather than my friend should fail in any article of .
honor. H~ cannot fail ; I am as confident of his virtue, .
as of my own existence. But I beseech the gods to
preserve his life. Oppose him, ye winds; disappoint his
eagerness, and suffer him not to arrive till my death hu
saved a life of much greater consequence than mine, necessary to his lovely wife, to his little innocents, to his
friends, to his country. 0 ! let me not <lie the most cruel •
of deaths in that of my friend." Dionysius was con._,
founded and awed with the magnanimity of these senti··
ments. He wished to s1Jeak, - he hesitated, - he looked
down ; and retired in silence. The fatal day arrived . Py~
thias was brought forth; and, with an air of satisfaction,
walked to the place of execution. He ascended the scaf~
fold and addressed the people: " My prayers are heard;
the gods are propitious; the winds have been contrary";
Damon could not conquer impossibilities; he will be here
tomorrow, and my blood shall ransom that of my friend."
As he pronounced these words, a buzz arose, a distant
voice was heard, the crowd caught the words, and "Stop,
stop the execution l " was repeated by every person. A, .
man came at full speed. In the same instant, he was oO: .
his horse, on the scaffold, and in the arms of Pythias;
" You are safe," he cried ; "you are safe, you are safe,
my friend! The gods be praised, you are safe." Pale, cold,
and half speechless, in the arms of his Damon, Pythias replied in broken accents: "Fatal haste, - cruel impatience,:·
- what envious powers have wrought impossibilities against'
your friend! But I will not be wholly disappointed. Since I cannot die to save you, I will die to accompany you."
Dio11ysius heard, :rnd beheld with astonishment; his cye1
were opened, his heart was touched, anil he could no longer
resist the power of virtue. He descended from his throne, ,
and ascended the scaffold. "Live, Jive, ye incomparable
pair! Ye have demonstrated the existence of virtue; and; '
consequently, of a God who rewards it. Live happy, live

'

173

renowned; and, as you have invited me by your example,
" fOrm me by your precepts, to participate worthily of a friend,~ihip so divine."

'l'!te

sau~c

Story still more amplified.

,

Damon was sentenced by Dionysius of Syracuse
die on a certain day, he begged permission, in the in, terim, to retire to his own country to set the affairs of his
· .' disconsolate family in order. This the tyrant intended
peremptorily to refuse, by granting it, as he conceived, on
the impossible condition of his procuring some one to remain as hostage for his teturn, under equal forfeiture of
life. Pythias heard the conditions, and did not wait for an
application upon the part of Damon ; he instantly offered
himself as security for his friend: which being accepted,
Damon was immediately set at liberty. The king and all
the courtiers were astonished at this action ; and, therefore,
. , when the day of execution drew near, the tyrant had the
, - curiosity to visit Pythias in his confinement. Some conYersation took place on the subject of friendship, in which
'he tyrant delivered it as his opinion, that self-interest was
, lhe sole mover of human actions; but, as for virtue, friend. ehip, benevolence, love of one's country, and the like, he
looked upon them as terms invented by the wise to keep in
awe and impose upon the weak. "My Lord," said Pythias,
'with a firm voice and noble aspect, " I would it were posaible that I might suffer a thousand deaths, rather than my
friend should fail in any article of his honor! Hu cannot
fail therein; I am as confident of his virtue, as I am of my
· own existence. But I pray, I beseech the gods, to preserve
lhe life and integrity of my Damon together. Oppose him,
. 1e winds! prevent the eagerness and impatience of his honorable endeavours, and suffer him not to arrive, till, by my
death, I have redeemed a life a thousand times of more
c:onsequence, of more value than my own; more estimable
to his lovely wife, to his precious little innocents, to his
friends, to his country. 0, leave me not to die the worst
of deaths in that of my friend ! " Dionysius was awed and
confounded by the dignity of these sentiments, and by the
manner in which they were uttered; he felt l1is heart strnck
· ~ya slight sense of i11vadi11g truth; but it served rather to
. perplex than to undeceive hiin. The fatal day arrived ;
"_Pythias was brought forth, and walked amidst the guards
,,.wilh a serious but satisfied air, to the place of execution.

to

15 *

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Dionysius was already the re; he was exalted on
throne that was drawn by six white horses, and sat pensive .
and attentive to the prisoner. Pythias came; he vaulted
lightly on the scaffold, and, beholding for a tim e the appar•
alus of his death, he turucd with a placid countenance, and
addressed the spectators : " My prayers are heard," he
cried ; " the go<ls arc propitiou s; you know, my fricnde;
th at the winds have been contrary till yester<lay. Damoa
could not come ; he could not conquer impossibilities; he
will be here to-morrow ; and the blood which is shed to-day '
shall have ransomed the life of my friend. 0 ! could I
erase from your bosoms every doubt, every mean suspicion
of the honor of the man for whom I am about to suffer, 1
should go to my death, even as l would to my wedding.
Be it sufficient, in the mea n time, that my friend will be
found noble; that his truth is unimpeachable; that he will
speedily prove it; that he is now on his way, hurrying on,
accu sing himself, the adverse elements, and fortune; but
I haste to prevent his speed ; - executioner, do yo ur office."
As he pronounced the last words, a buzz began to rise·.
among the remotest of the people; a di stant voice w~
heard, - the crowd caught the words, and " Stop, stop the
·execution!" was repeated by the whole assembly. A man
came at full speed; the throng gave way to his approach I
he was mounted on a steed that almost flew; in an instant
he was off his horse, on the scaffold, and held Pythiu ·
straightly embraced. "You are safe," he cried; "you are
safe, my friend , my dearest friend! the gods be praised,
you are safe! I now have nothing but death to suffer, and
am delivered from the anguish of those reproaches which I
gave myself, for having endangered a life so much dearer
than my own." Pale, cold, and half speechless, in the
arms of his Damon, Pythias replied, in broken accents:
"Fatal haste! cruel impatience! \Vhat envious powers have
wrought impossibilities in your favor? llut I will not be
·wholly disappointed. Since I ya nnot die to save, I will not
survive you." Dionysi us hea rd, beheld, and considered all
with astonishment. His heart was touched, he wept, andr .
·1eaving his throne, he ascended the scaffold. " Live, live,
ye incomparable pair!" he cried ; "ye have borne un·
.questionable testimony to the existence of virtue ; and that
virtue equally evinces the ex.isteuce of a G od to reward it.
.-L ive h appy, live renowned ! And, 0, form me by your pr~
cepts, as ye have invited me by your example, to be worthy
of the participation of so sacred a friendship."

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

175

may now amplify the following story or
STORY OF MEGAN.
· ~ Megan was one of a tribe of Indians, who ranged the ex.tensive wilds abou t the F alls of Niagara. He was pos. IO&sed of such superior pe rsonal aud mental qtialities as are
.ery seldom couceutrated in the same person ; generous
. and human e, as well as brave, he knew how to conquer a
• roe, and how to raise him when disarmed ; and, while he
hastened to shed the blood of his enemi es, he paused to
drop the tear of sympathy with afllicted friends. By these
ahining qualifica tion s he was end eared to those around him,
and was looked upon as a future ornament and champion
of his tribe.
.From the age in which he was able to bend a bow, he
was ever empl oyed, e ithe r in pursuit of game in the forest,
or in showing his skill in the management of his canoe.
His nation was now involved in a war, which opened to
.him a field of action, and afford ed frequent opportunities to
display his valor. In one of his excursions, he rescued
from captivity a beautiful female of his nation, who had
been taken some weeks before, and for whom he had conceived a passio n, previou~ly to her being taken.
4 t rheir mutual attachment was not a little strengthened
by this adventure; she was conducted hom e in triumph, a
day was appointed for the nuptial ceremonies, and Megan
· looke<l forward with fond expectation to the happy <lays he
ahould spend with his beloved Alcoris. But, alas ! how
often are the fairest hopes we can conceive, the most de. ceitful ! A few days only had elapsed, since his return,
when he yielded to a vice, that may be called a characteristic of these people; - he drank too freely of spirit and
. lay down in his canoe, which was fastened to a rock on
1hore, and was soon lost in sleep. Impatient at his too
long absence, Alcoris went in search of him, and what was
her surprise nnd horror, as she drew near the place, to see
bis canoe loosen ed by a rival, who had made several fruitless ·attempts to gain her affection, and r ap idly floating
down the swif't current towards the great falls! In vain
~id she cry out, in vain extend her ar ms towards the dear• est object of he r affection. He enjoyed a sweet tranquillity
. till roused to a sense of his danger by the noise of the
cataract. Megan is now apprized of his fate. He looks

176

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ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

back, recognizes Alcoris, and waving his
the falls and is seen no more.•

Th e student may now reverse the process of amplifying, ·
and present a b1·icf ABSTRACT of t/1efollowi11g narration.t
I

Many are the tales that have been repeated to us of. t~ .
revolutionary struggl es of our ancestors. Yet each little
incident connected with those times of peril, though often
listen ed to, becomes interesting to us, who are no"'. enjoy:
ing the blessings of that pricel ess freedom, for which our
fathers bled.
"Proudly, 0 children of freedom,
The stars of your banner fl oat high;
Bri~lit is the halo of glory,
O'er the graves where your ancestors lie .
C he ri shed may every memorial be,
Of th e brave ones who perished that ye might be free."

;""l

Such was the motto that my sister wrote, when I told
her that, in my next composition, I should weave up •
reminiscence of the Revolution, and requested her to write .
a sentiment to grace the commencement; but, when sh~ ·
glanced at the simple incident I intended to relate, she ·
thought the motto and the sketch whe not very appropriate;
but, as I insisted on its appropriateness to my brave Arthur's
story; and, as I also had the slip of p ape r in my hand on
which it was pencilled, (possess ion being nine points of the ·
law,) I was allowed to retain it, or rath er she was obliged
to yield to my whim, and, accordingly, I transfe rred it in·
triumph to the top of the page on which I commence - : .J
A REVOLUTIONARY STORY.

N ea r the extrem ity of the beautiful peninsula on which
Charlestown is situated, stood a large, old-fashioned house
iu th e year 1775, whose time-worn walls were partially con•
cealed in the warmer seasons, by luxuriant grape-vines,
that, spreading over the lattice d portico, ran across lhe
" This narrative is a ge nuin e coll ege exe rc ise, presente d some ycara
ago at 011e of the co ll ege• in this State.
t Thi s narration is a sc hool exerc ise , pre sc 11lcd within a few weeks b7 '
one of th e pupil s, a young lauy of about Lhirlee11 yea rs of age, al tho public
sc hool of which the author has th e charge . It has bee n thought, that ·
mode ls and specimens of this kind would be more use ful t han more fia·
ished writings, because they present to the stu de nt somethin g within hi•
reach . It wi ll not be difficult for him , after he has attained some ease·ia
writing, to adopt as hi s motto the principle," Excelsior.''

177

arilall windows, and clambered along the gable roof. A
1roup of horse-chestnut trees, and a hed ge composed of the
briery bushes of the barberry ~nd .black~e rry, ~ Jth here and
there a sweetbrier, covered with its delicate pmk blossoms,
enclosed a yard overgrown with bright green g ra s~ , and
which extended around the eastern and western sides of
the man sion. Beneath the vi ne-covered windows on the
we~t a sma ll parterre of flowers bloomed, while beyond, a
Tegetable garden ex tend ed to where th e bright waves. of the
river Charles rolled onward. The house was occup1~d by
)lrs. L eslie , her two childrnn, and a female domestic? Captain Leslie being with the American army, at the ~e1gh­
bouring town of Cambrid_g c, where. ~t had bee n stnt1011ed
ror nearly two months, while the Ilnt1sh troops lay shut up
In Boston.
It was th e berrinninrr of June, nnd, as the afternoon of a
beautiful day clr:w ne:r its close , Mrs. L eslie.laid as!de the
1ewinrr materi als that had abso rbed her attention during the
. morni~ g, and, stepp ing out upon the green turf, directed
her steps towards a low wooden ben ch ~eneat.h a lar~e
apple-tree, where a young ancl sweet lookm.g g irl was sitting. As her mother approached, Ann~ L eslie dropped her
knitting work and held forth a few s~mpl e, but fra ~ra nt,
dowers. A caress was the reward which the affect iona te
girl expected and rece ived for her gift. A~ s he th.rew a
&lance so expressive of love on her mother's face, 1t \~as
aad ·for that mother to know, that she co uld not perceive
'the smil e of affection in return ; for her child's dark blue
eyes were sightl ess, -poor Anna L eslie was. blind. Few
persons woul<l have . thou ~h t, as tl~ey looked 111 the lov e_Iy
child's face, as some st ram of music, so me loved and. familiar tone, or some bright, happ y ~bou g ht. awakened 111 her
eounterrnnce a beautiful expression, winch accorded well
with her sym metrical featureg, - fe.w persons would have
thoucrht that Anna had been born blind, that she never had
Tiew~<l the charming scenes of n ature, that her eye had
never glanced over the pages of liter ature, or the ~or ks. of
art. But a mother' s watchful te nd ern ess and patient m1tructio11 ha<l , during the twelve yen r s.o~· her lile, son~ewhat
~upplied the defi cie ncy which her 1111slortune occas ion ed;
apd her broth e r, Arthur, two years older. than h e~se lf, had,
with more than a brother's usual affect10n, c he rished and
· protected his helpl ei,:s sister. Unlike the inte resting and
unfortunate Laura _Bridgman, Anna could hear the loved

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voices of her friends and the sweet tones of her mother'1
ha_rpsichord. She could give utterance, too , in a low, clear
voice, to her thoughts and fee lings, and, although she sat1
not her mother's sm ile, she heard the whispered words of. ,
love, au~ returned her affectionate greeting.
Drawmg her daughter's arm within her own, Mrs. Leslie_
returned 1:1 lo wly towards the hou se . The blushing .Juni
roses were sending forth their rich odor from the large·
bushes, c~vered with flowers , that bordered the path, and
Mrs. L es lie plucked an ope ning bud and placed it in her
dau g hte r's hair. All around the ir littl e domain looked.
peace fully, but Anna echoed her moth e r's sigh, as the beal-1 .
mg of t~1 e drum and othe r sounds of wa r came fain tly from
the hostile camps a11d awak e ned in the ir boso ms sorrowful
thoughts of the situ;ition of th eir country and the welfare or
the hu sband and fath e r, whose life was so precious, yet in .
such pe ril: As they silently approached the house, Anna' •
felt conscious tl~at her mother was be9o ming absorbed in·
me lan c holy reverie, and, to divert he r attention, proposelh
to meet Arthur. Mrs. Leslie consented, and they passed .
throu g h the flower beds and proceeded to th e lower parta'.
?f the grounds, where Arthur employed himself in cultivate~
rng the vegetable garden, for it was impossible to procure'
~ m~n. in th e town for that purpose , all who were able hav·
m g JO.m ed the .army of their country. But Arthu r, with 'the'
occ asional ass istance of Rachel, th eir faithful black ser·
vant, had managed to raise quite a respectable stock or
vege tables, not only for his own family, but he sometimes
found means to carry a portion to supply his fath er's table
at the camp. Arthur, who had just com pl eted his work
and re freshed him self by a bath in th e ri1•er as his mother
and sist~r appe ared in s ight, haste ned to joi;1 them and to
c~mmu111cate an account of an extensive depredation, com• .
rn1tted t~e P.r eceding night in his ga rd e n. Naturally im·
pe tuous 111 lus temper, Arthur now compJ,1ined bitterly and ~
vow.e el v?ngeance on the British thi e f, as he pe rsisted in
call111g him, for he had trace d the fo otsteps over hi s delicate
le ttuce bed s and young peas, till they terminated on the'
v~rg e of' the ri ver. As his boyi s h ima g in alion magnified'
111s wrongs, Arthur's dark eye spark led hi s cheek Aushed ·
and his red lip curled with scorn, and not till the sweet:
voice of l_lis sister h.ad communicated in a whisper a plan
for watchmg that 111ght, and at least ascertainin(J' who the
thief was, did his brow become un clouded, just a~ they en; "

ENGLISH COJ\1POSITION.

179

lered their quiet, low-cei led sitting-room . A very pleasant
room it was, though old fashion ed. Its deep window seats
were nicely cushioned, its c lum sy-look ing mahogany tables,
, ,ith dark, time-colored surfaces, highly polished, the carved
bOxes and stands that came from Calcutta, its fireplace,
. turrounded by small Dutch til es , th e antique-looking porlraits, that came ove r in th e Mayflower, it was sa id, and
lhe painted screens placed around, made the apartment a
fnorite with Arthur and Anna. The bright flowers in the
.old china vases, and the white drape ry of the table, now
1pread with their simple evening repast, e nlivened the somewhat sombre aspect of the room, for the sun had just sunk
below the horizon and the vines hung thickly over the
windows, but Rachel pu 8hed th e m as ide and com111 e11ced
1waying he r fly-brush, as .M rs. Leslie sea ted herself' at the
table. Rachel was so mewhat a privileged being in the
family, as s he was a faithful and trusty domestic, and she
often en livened the children at mealtimes by her quaint expressions and an ecdotes of the olden time. This eve ning
1be began to lament, as she glanced ruefully at the plain
bread , fresh strawberries, and brig ht water from their own
cool and shaded well, that he r lady could no longe r preside
' u ·formerly, over the splendid s ilve r plate and beautiful
China tea-set, that once adorned th e table covered with the
delica cies of the season. But now wh at was the use of the
plainest cups and sauce rs without tea , and even the strawberries must be eaten without cream, for the British foragers had stolen t he ir last cow .
Arthur, who had been abso rbed in his own thoughts, now
joined in the conversa ti on , for he generally felt interested
when any thin g was said respecting the injuri es inflicted by
the foes of his country; and lon g afte r Mrs. Leslie had re' tired from the room did th e eager boy continue to listen to
"' Rachel's tal es, and even Anna- at last left them, and passjng out of the glass door into the large hall, for she was
perfectly acquainted wi th every nook in her childhood's
borne, and could find her way without difficulty through
IYery room of the house, she ascended the broad staircase
with large wooden balustrades, at the head of the hall, and
entered her own chamber. Drawing the s nowy curtain
aside; Ann a se ated herself on the window seat, for though
~be . could not look out upon the moonlit scene, it was pleasllll to fee l the cool fragrant breeze play over he r face, and
bear it rustling among the branches of the horse-chestnut

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ENGLI SH COMPOSlTION.

trees. Long did Anna sit the re, and lon ge r she would hut
linaered, indul g ing in those wa king dreams, sad and yet
so1~ etim es enchanting, that are peculiarly endeared to thoat,
who, lik e her, are shut out from m any of the bright realio .
ties of li fe, if the door communicating with her mother'a
apartment had not ge ntl y opened, and Mrs. L eslie entered
with a m other's care to see that all was safe. "Anna, m7
child, nine o'clock and you sitting he re when the damp
bree z e from the river is blow ing directly in the window! .
what imprudence !" The window was closed, and Anna
was carefully enveloped in fl ann e l, and only he r urgent reo
mon stran ces prevented he r mothe r from administering scime
hot herb te a. Afte r Ann a had re tire d, Mrs. L eslie withdrew to her chambe r, full of anxiety for he r beloved child,
whose d elicate hea lth · and helplessness seemed to increaae
the lo ve she fe lt for he r.
Wh e n the old clock in the corner of the hall stru ck nine,
Arthur li a hte d his c andle a11d hasten ed to his roo m. After
closin g tfi e door, he took fr om his chest au old fowling•
piece and carefully examined it. Placing it on the table,
he rep aired to the w indow, and, parting the waving tendril1
of the vi ne looked out anxiously. Light clouds had been
flyin g across the deep blue of the sky all the evening, but
now darker a nd <lark er they gathered in huge masses , till it
was impossible to disce rn ohjects with any distin ctness on .
the river , or even in the garde n below. Arthur was a brave
boy, but he hesitated at t he thou g ht of descen din g to the
garde n and there wa tc)Jing for the thie f, for the iucreasing
d arkn ess made it irnp~ss ible to see from th e wi111low; but
hi s hesitation vanisheu, ,for he thoug ht he faiutly heard the'
sound of oars on the riv er , nnd snatching up his fowling•
pie ce and s il ently openi11g his door he .proceeded lightly
alon g th e hall. A s he passed th e clock 1t struck ten, and
its s ilvery sound somewhat startl ed him as he felt his way
in the d ark . Noiselessly he opened the hall doo r, and stepped out into the yard. Every thing around was quiet, ex•
cept the rustling of the branches as a gust passed by, and
the sound of oars striking th e waves, which he now heard ·
wil h more distinctness. Arthur bounded lightly over tht
he dge of sweet brier, and mad e his way throug h th e dewy
shrubbery to his garden. . It was very d ar~, and as he ~id
·behind a g roup of currant bu shes and awaite d th e commg
of the de predator , he could sc arcely distingui sh a single ·
obj ect. Suddenly the noise ce ased on the riv er, and breath.;

lessly Arthur watched throu g h the gloom. He starte d as
lie thought h e perceived a tall form be ndin g over near him ;
but looking more closely he saw it was a large sunflower
bowing its head in th e breeze. Again; did his imagination <leceivi:: him 7 No; a t all Highlande r, his tartan and
plumes shaken by the wind , crept cautiously throu g h the
bushes and proceeded to fill a large hag with all th at the
Increasing d arkn ess wo uld enable him to lay his hands on.
Arthur's fears, if he had any, were now dispelled, so indigaant did he feel as he saw the inroads made in his fine beds
ofvegetables, and he sprung behind the startled Highlander
and in a voice hoarse with rage, levelling his fowling-piece
close to his head , th reate ned hini with in sta nt de ath if he
ma<le the least resistance. Th e fri g hte ned fellow, re ndered
confident a nd more daring by hi s former unmolested visi t,
· bad come totall y unarrned save a dirk in his belt; but the
eurprise and co nste rnation whi c h hi s s udde n detection had
occasioned, n ot be ing abl e to see his e nemy and with death ·
eo near, his prese nce of mind utte rly forsook him, and he
bllowed implic itly the commands of Arthur, who ordered
~irn to take up the bag and to walk in front whither he should
direct." Tremblin g ly the Highlander, not daring to move
his. head, for the loaded g un still threatened him with inllant death, obeyed; and Arthur, following c losely and silently throu g h the garde n and alon g the road, stopped not
till he arri ved at the camp in Cambridge, where he delivered his prison er into hi s father's h ands. Proudly C ap tain
Leslie gazed on his intrepid boy, and man y were the compliments that his cournge obt.niued from the officers and
10ldiers. Nothin g could exceed the ange r an d mortification
which the Highlnnder felt as he gazed in s urpri se on his
JOuthful captor, and many were 1he oaths that fe ll from his
pps as he saw the scornful snee rs and li ste ned to the contemptuous re marks of the American soldi ers as they passed
him and looked 11po11 his sturdy fo rm , and compnre<l it with
tb~ slight, g ra cefu l figure of Arthur Leslie. Arthur did not
long rem ain at the camp, but hastened hom e to relieve the
J:UXiety of his mothe r and sister, and just as the sun began .
lo gild "tree, shrnh, and flow e r," Arthur with one bound ·
1pra11g over the thi c ket, s haking large pe arly dew-drops
.·liom the · roses, a nd e ntered the portico just as his mother
was :descendin g t.he stuirs from his room, where the bed,
which evidentl y had 11 ot been occupied, had dreadfully
aluined he r. H e r anxiety was so mew hat allaye d by the

0

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ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

appearance of Arthur; and when at the breakfast table '· be
relat_ed to her and to Anna the adventure of the night, Ml'lo
Leslie knew n?t whether to blame the te~erity, or praile
the courage wl11ch he undoubtedly had mani fes ted. llncbtl
was tlclightcd wil1 1 her brave boy' s conduct; a11d long nnerw
ward, wh en the . war was ended and Captain L eslie had )I!
moved to the city, where Mrs. Leslie res umed her former
station at the head of a splenditl establishment and the
sweet Anna had cultivated, with her brother's a~sistance, ·
the learning and accomplishments attainable by one in her
situation, the n did Rachel recount to her wonde ring hear•
ers the story of Arthur's adrenture with the Highlander. ,r

LESSON Llll.
DESCRIPTION.

Description may in most cases be
plified definition. Owing to peculiar associations in the
mind, and the difference in the habits of perception and
observation, no two individuals would probably describe the
same scene _or the same ~bject alik e. This is particularl7
tl_ie case with . youn!fo writers: Some fro~ a natural slug•
g1 sl~ness of mmd will p~rce1ve few particulars worthy or '
notice, where oth e rs of different temperament wi ll find the
subject replete witl.1 int~resting details, all wort hy of rega_rd.'
But the young writer 1s often at a loss how to approach the
subject, where to begin and what particulars to enumerate{.
A few suggestions wi ll now be presented, which will probl•
bly lead those who may use this book to tltinlc and to · u·ae •
1heir eyes. to. some purpose when called upon t~ give a wri~
te_n description of any ~ensible o~ject. Them suggestiolU
will be followed by a list of details some one or more ·or ·
which may always be noticed in 'a writte n description; ·
It is to be premis~d, that this list is not suggested that .it
may be taken up III regu lar ord e r; nor will it be necessary
to incorporate all of the parti culars in any on e exercise . .'It ,
will be noticed, that the object in presenting such a list ii
only, as has already been said, to suggest ideas, which ' the ·
student himself is to mould as they may arise and combine ·
with what may spring spontaneously from his 'own mind : •
1

*

See the " Dialogue between a Tutor and his Pupils," on page 14. :,

183

To collect materials for a good description, there must

be a devoted atte ntion to the beauties of nature and to the
tce1ies of social life. The mind will thereby be rendered
.Uaceptible and discriminative, acquiring sources of im,provement \Vhich would otherwise be lost, whi le variety and
copiousness of expression will at the same time be secured.
There are three great classes, under one of which all the
nrieties of desc ription may be arranged . U uder the first
class are included all those subjects which are immediately
under personal notice; which are actually prese nt before
our eyes. In the second class may be arranged all those
which have been noticed, but have left only their pictures
in the memory. The third class includes only those subjects which a re purely imaginary. In the descriptions of
a)) . these classes , the object to be e ffected is one and the
eame; 11amely, to pr ese nt to the reader a picture, easy and
natural, lively in its chnracter, and animated in its appearance; making those detnil s the most prominent which would
affect the behold e r ns most striking, and throwing, as it
were, into the shade those circumstances which are designed
to· produce . a su hordinate impress ion. In producing such
an effect, the write r should pay particular attention to the
epithets with which he des ignates particular objects, that
he may render the impression, which he designs that they
1hould convey, strong and durable. For this reason he cannot be too particular in the choice of his qualifying words,
for they are sometimes more expressive than the objects
themselves when presented in naked simplic ity.
Thus, for instance, suppose we are ·describing a scene in
a wood or for est; the following terms would appropriately
describe the appearance of the scene: Dark, obscure, deep,
drnary, gloomy, overcast, indistinct, dim, cloudy, dense, lu. rid , livid , &c.
• Or a summer's noon ; the following terms will be found
in most cases suitable: Brig ht, shining, clear, lu cid, brilliant, dazzling, sp lendid, resple ndent, spark ling, refulgent,
• ardent, conspicuous, clear, placid, &c.
Or a storm or a cataract; the following terms will be
founil express ive: JJari=:h, discordant, ronr, howl , hiss, crash,
reverberate, dash, splash, murmur, growl, clamorou s, confused, terrific, tremendous, thuudering, &c.
"' There are many kinds of description, also, in which the
followin g terms may not only, with considerable advantage,
. be interwoven, but the terms themselves, by the law of as-

184

ENGLISH COJIIPOSITION.

AIDS TO

so~iation,_ will suggest id eas; such as, placid , calm, tran- .
qui!, rnot1onless, peace ful, serene, restless, lazy, unruffled,
hu s hed, silent, voiceless, sleeping, breathless, tran sparent.
clear, waveless, en_gulphed, un~1easured, beautiful, mingled,
crystal, golden, silvery, magmficent, breezel ess, kindred, ·
&c., &c., &c.
. Acquai11ta11ce with the beauties of nature , particularly
with those of_the earth and the sky, and with the lights and
shadows of life must be con'Sidered as a great acquisition
to any ~ii_nd; and consequently t!rn command of language,
so requisite to embody and dep1cture the same with tho '
glow and warmth which imagination len ds to description,;
must be regarded as an object worthy of the highest regard
by all who aim at being di stinguished as writers.
· ·,
In describing a sensible object, the followi11g particulars
n:iay b.e noticed in any order consistent with a proper cla&s1ficat1on :
l. The time when, and place whe re it ex ists, or was
seen.
.
2. The purpose for which it is designed, its name, uses,
and conveniences.
·
3. Its novelty or antiquity, general or particular existence.
4 . Its figur e or form, and position, together with an anal·
ysis of its parts.
5. Its resemblance to any other object.
6. Its size, color, beauty, or want of it.
7. The persons or artists by whom it was made.
.,
R. Materials of which it was made, and the manner in
which it is constructed.
~- Its effects on mankind by increasing or abridging
the ir comfort, &c.
·
10. The feelings or re flections which it excited.
11. Its connexion with any other subject.
.
In a description of natural scenery, the following list or.
particulars will be applicable.
12. The climate, weather, surface, soil.
,.
13. The state of cultivation, progress of vegetation and
its ki11d.*
'
\
w

* Probably no writer has ever surpasoed Sir 'Valter Sco tt in the beauty
fid eli ty, nm! accuracy of hi s descriptions . The following extract fro~
Mr. Morntt's "Memorandum," tak e n from Lockhart's Life of Sir "Valier
Vol. Ill. , page 30, exhibits his views , and the pains that he took to be ao!
c_urate. Speakin g of the visit of the great novelist at Rokeby, Mr. Moro
ntt says : " I had many previous opportunities of testing the almost con•

185

14. The animated objects in the vicinity, together with
tl!e conveniences or inconveniences of their situation.
15. The improvements made by human industry.
·16. The beauty, or deformity, discoverable in the unculliuted parts c f the scene.
_ 17. The inhabitants in the vicinity, their occupations
and character .
· 18. The prospects around the scene, hill or valley, water
. atagnant or running, slow or rapid, &c.
19. The sounds produced by natural objects; such as a
waterfall, a brook, the wind passing through the trees; or by animated nature, namely, the bleating of sheep, the
lowing of cattle, the s i11 gi 11g of birds, and the noise proceeding from the workmen and their machinery.
In the description of persons, the following may be embraced.
.20. P erson, tall or short, fleshy or thin .
1
21. Manner, strong or feeble, graceful or awkward, ac- tive and energetic, or i11dol e 11t and wanting in energy.
22. Gait; behaviour; dress and mode of wearing it, &c.;
character, good, bad, or indifferent; disposition, amiable or
irritabl e; habits, temperate or otherwise; principles, fixed
or unsteady.
1elentious fidelity of hi s loca l descriptions; but I could i1ot he lp being
lingularly struck with the li ~hts which this visit threw on that characterllllc nf his compositions. 'l he morning afl er he arrived, he said, 'You
..,o ofl.en given me materials for a romance; now I want a good robber's
C&Ye, and an old c hurc h of the righ t sort.' We rode out, and he found
"hat he wanted in the old slate quarries of Brignal, and the ru ined abbey
ol Egglestone. I observe'! him noting down even the peculiar little wild
}ftotra and herbs that accillentally g rew around and on the side of a bold
cng near his intended ca1•e of Guy Denzil; and could not help saying,
!bat ne he was not to be upon oath rn his work, daisies, violets, and pl'imrtllll would be as poetical as any of the humbler plants he •vas examining.
1 la~ghed, in ~hort, at his scrupulousness; but I understood .h im when he
ftlphed, 'that rn nature he rse lf no two scenes are exactly alike; and that
itA0tller copied truly what'°"°' bef01 ·p his eyes, would possess the same variety
ill /tu descriptions, and exhibit apparently <tn imagination as bonndless as tlie
Nttge of nature in the scenes he i-ecorded; whereas, whoever trusted to
" Imagination would soon find his own mind circumscribed and contracted
lo I fow favorite images, and the repetition of t hese would sooner or later
protiUCO thnt vcrr lllOnnton y nnil bnrrn1111 r.RA which hail nlwnyA hnuntcd de. tcrlptlvo poetry 111 the liands or nny but. pati e nt worehippcrs of truth . Bclide1 which,' he said,' loca l nam es and pec uliariti es make a fi ctitiou s story
look 10 much better in the face.' .l n fact, from his boyish habits , he was
..l half satisfied with the most beautiful scenery when he could not conllec:t with it som e local legend ; and when I was forced sometimes to con. .,.with the knife-grinde r,' Story! God bless you! I have none to tell,
rAr,'-he would lau ~ h and say, 'Then let us make one, - nothing so easy
•to make a tradition.' "
·

16.

<
186

187

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

2!l Profession or occupation; station in society; richea
or p~verty; birth, parent.nge, residence, age, education,
·_
associates.
24. Character of the mind, talents, memory, discrimio ..
tion, judgment, language, expressions, &c. ; moral qualities, such as justice, temperance, sobriety, courage, fortitude, intrepidity, &c.
In most descriptions and narrations, it will be found that
the particulars enumerated in the precedin•T list are partic- ·
ularly noticed. In the following model, th~ numbers refer .
to the preceding list, and show what portions of the list
have been incorporated in the description.*

only a little shivered on the eastern side. There was originally a statue on this pillar, one foot and ankle of which
are still remaining. The statue must have been of gigantic size, to have appeared of a man's proportions at so great
a height. To the eye below, the capital does not appear
capable of holding more than one nian upon it; but it has
becu found that it could contain no less than eight persons
nry conveniently. Nothing can equal the majesty of this
monument. Seen from a distance, it overtops the town, and
serves as a signal for vessels. (10.) Approaching it nearer,
it produces an · astonishment mingled with awe. One can
,never be tired with admiring the beauty of the capital, the
length of the shaft, and the extraordinary simplicity of the
pedestal. (2.) The purpose for which this splendid monument was designed, (1.) the time when it was raised, and
,(7.) the artist by whom it was planned and executed are all
equally involved in obscurity. (3.) History throws no light
which can penetrate Egyptian darkness; nor can tradition
aver any thing certain with regard to it. (2.) By some, it
thought to have been erected in honor of Pompey; who ,
,llying from Cresar aftl'r the battle of Pharsalia, was basely
assassinated in this place. But the more probable opinion
ie, that it was raised in gratitude to the Emperor Severus,
who had conferred great favors on the inhabitants of Alexandria. ( 1I.) The pillar of Pompey, or of Severus, call it
by which name you will, is a standing monument of the
perfection attained by the ancients in all the arts on which
the science of architecture depends; and proves, beyond
, dispute, that in what respects soever the moderns may have
surpassed the ancients, yet in grandeur of design, boldness
, in execution, taste, richness, and elegance of combination,
, .. they .must yield the superiority.

.MODEL.

Description of Pompey's Pillar.
(I.) In visiting Alexandria, what most engages the atteoo,
tion of travellers is the pillar of Pompey, as it is commonli
called ; situated at a quarter of a league from the southe'ro
gate. (8.) It is composed of red gran ite, a hard kind
stone, variegated with black and white spots, and very com• .
mon in Egypt and Arabia. ( 4.) The capital, or uppermost
part of the column, is of .thl:! Corinthian order of architecture, the palm leaves composing th e volutes not being indented, because of the height for which they were destined,
which would render the indentation invisible to the specta- '
tor below: (8.) The shaft, or main body of the pillar, too
gether with the upper part of the base or foundation ii
comp~sed. of ~:me entire block of marble, ninety feet long,
and nme 111 diameter. (4 and 8.) The base is a square
abou_t fif~een feet on each side. This block of marble, sixty
feet m Cir~umference, rests on two layers o_f stone, bound
together with lead. (6.) The whole column 1s one hundred
and fourteen feet high. It is perfectly well polished, and

or

or

" Jn all descriptions, specific should be employ ed in preference to g,,,.
eral terr.ns? becaus? .specific terms strike the mind more forcibly. For I•
stanc e, rf rn descrrbrng sc_en~ry a person shou ld mention tree,• as formiDf
part of the vrew, no definrte idea would be conveyed to our minds· but if,
111stencl of the g-encral term tree.•, Ire uses the specific lcrrnR fir., n'nd wllo
lows, ,...,,<'..,we Hlrou ld at once r.onr:civn 1.1111 idea of' l1 ci!-(hl co.11noclod wl ..
tlrn on.c, a11cl i.:raccf'n l waving wil.lr tl1c oth e r. Again, if' Ire should describe
an action as don? by snn~e body, without. mentioning by whom, we elroaW
perhaps take no intere st in what was said; but if he should mention ii 11
' havin g be en done by an individual whom we know, and with whose mann•
:ind .npp e aranc~ we were familiar, we should immediately sec in our imll'
mallon .the attitud e and perhaps . the expression of the face of the penaa
' at the time referred to, and the scene would become interesting to us.

,Ja

EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.

may now write a description of the followA meetinghouse.
A plough.
A harrow.
·· A echool-room.
A fire engine.
A steamboat.
A paper-mill.
A watch.
A grist-mi ll.
A clock.
A wind-mill.
A bureau.
A canal.
. A writing-desk.
A <lwellinghouse. · A railroad.
ship.

.A carriage.·

A bridge.
A telescope.
A pri11ti11g oOicc.
A type foumlery.
A cotton mill.
A manufactory.
A sunrise.
A sunset.
A garden.

---

- - 188

'

AIDS TO

- - ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

A country scene on a summer morning.
The appearance of the sky at noonday.
The eve ning twilight.
A parlour, or drawing-room, with its furniture, noticing
the fabric, materials, workmanship, &c.
., ·
A scene on a win ter evening.
The appearance of the heavens at night;
1.iy moonlight.
The sea by moonlight.
A thunder storm.
Autumn in its first aspect.
A winter scene.
The entrance of Christ into Jerusalem.
Christ in the Temple.
John baptizing at Enon.
A visit to the Tower of London.
The ocean and its shores.
Wild mountain scenery.
A battle on land or at sea.
Uninjured edifices.
An old empire.
A new and growing empire.
Ruins.
"Vain, transitory splendorn,-cou ld not all
" Reprieve th e tottering mansion from its fall 7"

LESSON LIV.
NARRATION AND DESCRIPTION UN ITED.
I

That the student may perceive how much is added to the
be~uty and . the interest .of a narration by the union of de-'
scnptl~n w~th the narrative, the following model is present·
ed, wluch 1~ found ed on the simple circumstance, that a ,
young man m a feeble state of health is called home after
a long absence, to be present at the death-bed of his' moth.' ..
er . . The stud ent wil~ obse r~e !~o w beautifully many of the ·.
particulars pr.esented m th? !1st 111 the preceding lesson are
interwoven with the narrative, and bow much the union of
description with the narration has added to the beauty of'
the story.
..

189

MODEL.*

In looking ove r some papers of a deceased acquaintance , I found
. Ille followin g fragm ent. H e had frequently spoken to me of the perIOn whom it concerned, and who had been his schoolfellow . I relll!mber well his one day telling me, that thinking th e character of
1111 friend, nnd some circumstances in his life, were of such a kind
lhat 1111 interestin g morn! littl e story might be mnde from th e m, he
laad undertakrn it; but conside ring as he was going on , that bringing
Ille private character and fee lings of a decease d friend before the
wnrld, was something like eacrilege , though done under a fi ctitious
1101e, he had stopped soon afte r beginning the tale,- that he had laid
llaway amongst hi s papers, and had never looked at it again .
AB the person it concerns has bee n a long time dead, and no relaUon surviv es, I do not fee l th at there can be a ny impropri ety in my
1ow making it publi c. I give it ns it was written, though ev ide ntly
DOl rev ise d by my fri e nd . Though hastily put toge ther, and b€'ginalng as abruptly as it e nds, and with Jillie of story and no novelty in
lhe circumstances, yet th ere is a mournful tenderness in it, which, I
\rust, will interest others in so me portion as it ditl me.
"The sun not se t yet, Th omas?" " Not quite, Sir. It blazes
l.hrough the trees on the hill yonder as if th eir branches were nil on

fire."
Arthur raised him se lf hrav ily forward , antl with his hat sti ll over

hi1 brow, turned his g lazed a nd tlim eyes toward s th e se tting sun .
It was only the night before that he had heard his m oth er was ill,
and could surviv e but a day or two. H e h ad lived nearly apart
from society, and, be ing a lad of a thoughtful, dreamy mind, had
made a world to him se lf. His thou g hts and feelings were so much
. ill it, that, except in relation to his own home , there were the same
tague and strange notion s in hi s brain concPrning the state of things
111rrounding him , as we hnve of a for€'ig n land .
The main fe eling which t his selfmade world e xcited in him was
love, and, like most of his age, he had formed to himself a being suited Lo his own fan cies. This wns the romance of life, and though
men, with minds lik e his, mak e imag ination to stand ofle ntimes in the
place of real existence, anrl to take to itse lf as dee p fee ling and conoern, yet in domestic relations , which are so nea r, and usual , and printe, they fee l lon ge r and m ore deeply than those who look upon
· !heir ho1n es as only a bette r part of the world to which they belong.
.. .Jndeed, in aHec ti on ate nnd good me n of a vision ary cast, it is in some
. 111rt only realizing the ir hopes and desires, to turn th em hom ewar d.
Arthur felt that it was so , and he loved his house hold the more that
Ibey gave him an e arnest of one day reali zing all his hopes and at&achments.
Arthur's moth er was pP.culiarly dPar to him , in having a character
Ill much like hi s own. For th ough the cares and attachments of li fe
bad lon g ago tak e n pin ce of a fanciful existence in her, yet her natural turn of mind was strong enough to give to these something of the
• It will be a goocl exerc ise to th e student lo mark this model with the
Hmbers referring to th e particulars in the li st presented in the last lesson,
la lhe same manner in which th e model of the last lesson is marked.

'

~~~-~~~~~~~---~ .-·-~--.;;;;._­

'

190

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

!rnr

romance ?f
disposition. Thishad le~ to a more than usu al opeaness and intimacy between Arthur· and hts mothe r, and now brougb&
to his remembrance the hours th ey had sat toge ther by the fireligb&,
when he lis tened to her mild and melancholy voice, as she spoke rl
what she had undergone at the loss of her parents and husband . lief
ge ntle rebuke of his faults, her affec tionate look of approval when be
h ad don~ well, her care that he should be a just man, and her molb•
e rly anxiety lest the world shonld go harcl with him, all crowcled into
hi s mind, and .he thought that every worldly attachm ent was he1eafler
to be a vain thing.
H e had passed the night betwee n viol ent, tumultuous grief, an4
numb in.sensibility. Stepping in to the carriage, with a slow, weak
motion, ltke one who was quitting his sick chamber fo r the first time
he began his j ourney homeward. As he lifted his eyes upward,~ ·
re w .stars that were here ancl there over th e sky, see med to look dow1
m ruty , an cl shccl u re li,;ious ancl hcali11g li g ht upon him. Ilut the1
soo n went out, one afte r another, and as the last fad ed from his im- .
ploring sight, it was as if eve ry thin g goocl and holy had forsakea
him . The. faint tint in the east soon beca me a ruddy i;low, and the
su n, sltoo tm g upw arcl, burst ove r eve ry Ii vinO' thin" m full glor~
T~1e sight went to Arthur's sick heart, as if it ~ere in" mockery of h~
misery .
L ~a nin g back in his ca ~riage, wi th his hand ove r his eyes, he ·wu
earned alo~g? hardly ~en~1ble it was day. .The. old ser va nt, Thomu,
who was sitting by his s1cle, went on talking m a low , monotoilou
tone; b.ut Arth~r only heard som~ thing sounding in his ears, scarcely heed mg tha t 1t was a human v01ce . H e hacl a sense of wearisomeuess from the motion of the carriage, but in all things else the daj ,
passed as a melanc holy dream.
Almost the first words Arthur spoke were those I have mentioned. •
As he looked out upon the setti ng su n, he shuddered through hill
who!~ frame, a~d then became sick and pale. H e thought he knew
the hill near l11m; and as they wouncl round it, so me peculiar old •·
trees appearecl, and he was in a few minutes in th e midst of the ecen• ·
ery nea r hi s ho.me. The river before him reflec tin g th e rich evenin1 .
~ky, _looked as tf p o ~red out from a molte n min e. The birds, gather•
m g 111, we.re .shootm~ ncros~ each other, bursting into short, gay
no_tes, or smgmg their eve mng son gs in the trees. It was a bitter
thmg to fincl all so bright and cheerful, ancl so near his own home too.
His h ors~s· hoofs struck upon t~ie old wooden bridge. The sound ,
went to l11s heart. It was here !us mother took her Inst leave of him
ancl blessed him.
As he passed th~ou gh the vill~ge , th~re was a fee lin g of strange•
ness, th a t every thmg should be JUSt as 1t was when he le ft it. There ·
was an undefin ed t~11;mght floatin g in his mind, that his mother's stale
should produce a v1s1ble change in all that he had bee n fam iliar with;
But the boya we re at their noisy games in the street. the laborers re•
tu~nin g , talking together, from their work , and th e. old me n sillior
c1u1etly at th e ir doors . He concealed himself as well as he could and
bade Thomas hasten on.
' ·• '
A s they dre w near the house , the ni ght was shuttin o- in about it,
an~ the re was a me lancholy , g usty so und in the trees." Arthur fell
as tf app roac hin g hi s mother"s tomlJ. He e ntered the parl our. All wu
as g.loomy and still as a clesertecl house. Prese ntly he heard a slow '
cautious step, over head. It was in his mother's chamber. His sis~}

191

him from the wind ow . She hurried down and threw her
arms about her brothe r's neck, with out utterin g a word . As soon as
lie could speak, he ask ed , "Is ~he alive?" - he could not say, my
mother. "She is sleeping," answered hi s sister," and mu st not kn ow
lo-night that you are here; she is too weak to bear it now." "I will
So look at her, then, while ·she sleeps," said he, drawing his handkerChief from his face. Hi s sister's sympathy had made him shed the
Int tears which had fallen from him that day, ai1d he was more com-

'H~'enlered

the chamber with a deep and still awe upon him; and
u he drew near hi s motlu:r's bed-s id e, and looked on he r pale, placid,
and motionless face, he scarcely dared breathe, lest he should disturb
the secret comm uni on that the soul was h oldin g with the world into
· 1rhich it was about to e nter . The loss th at he was about suffering,
and his heavy grief, wer(! all forgotten in the feelin~ of a holy ins pi·
ntlon, ancl he was, us it we re, in th e midst of invisible 'pir its, ascending and descendin g. His mother's lips moved sli ghtly , as she
altered an indistinct sound. He clrew back, and his sister we nt near
lo her, and she spoke . It was the same gentle voice which he had
known and fe lt from his childh ood. The exaltation of hi s soul left
him,_:.he sunk d own, - and his misery went over him like a flood.
The uex t day, as soo n as his mother became com posed enough to
lff him, Arthur went into her chamber. She stretched out her feeble
band, and t11rnecl towards him, with a look that blessed him. It was
' lhe short strugg le of a mee k spirit. She covered her eyPs with her
band, and the tears tri ck led down be twee n her pale, th in fingers. As
aoon as she became tranqui l, she spoke of the gratitude she fe lt at
being spared to see him before she died.
"My dear mother," said Arlhur , - but he could ncit go on. His
yoice was c hoked, his eyes filled with tears, and the agony of .b is soul
Wll visibl e in hi s face . "Do not be so afllicted, Arthur, at the loss
of me. We are not to pa rt fo r e ver. Remember, too, how co mfortable and happy you have made my days. H eaven, I know, will bless
to good a son as you have been lo me. You will hav e that consolation, my son, which visits but a few, - you will be able to look back
upon your past cond uct to me, not withou t pain only, but with a holy
Jciy. And think h ereafter of the pence of mind you g ive me, now
ihat I am about to die, in the thought that I nm leaving you r s ister
10 your love and ca re. So long as yo u live, she will find you a fath er
and brother to he r." She pa used for a moment. " I have always felt
that I could meet death with composure ; but I did not kn ow," she
aid, with a tremulous voice, her lips quivering,-" I did not know
. how hard a thin g it woulcl be to leav e my children, till now th at the
boor has come."
After a little while , she spok e of his father, and said , she bad li ved
with the belief that he was mindful of her, and with th e con victi on,
.which grew stronger as death approache d, that she should meet him
In another world. She said but littl e more, as she grew weaker and
wraker eve ry hou r. Arthur sat by in sil e nce , holdin g her hand . Ile
aw that she was se nsible he was watch in g her countenance, fo r every
now and th e n she opened her dull eye and look ed tow ard s him, and
endeavoured to smile .
·The day wore slow ly away. The sun went down, and the melancholy ancl still twilight came on. Nothing was heard but th e ticking
the watch, te llin g him wi th a resistl ess power, that the hour was

or

192

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

drawing nigh. He gasped, as if under some invisible, gigantic grupJ
which it was not for human strength to strn~gle a~ainst.
·
, .
It w~s now quite dark, and .by th~ pale hght of the night-lamp ii
the cl11mney corner, the furmture m the room threw huge and·uQ•
couth figures over the walls . All wns unsubsta ntial and visionar71
and t.lu.• 8llluluw,v 111inislcrs uf death nppcarl.'d ga. t.lu ~ rilll-{ round, walS,
ing the duty of the hour appointed th e m. Arthur slrnddered for a
moment with superstitious awe; but the solemn elevation which a
good mnn foe ls at the sight of the dying took ' possession of him, and
he became calm again .
The approach of death has so much which is exalting, that oar
grief is, for the time, forgotten . And could one who had seen Arthot •
a few hours before, now have looked upon the grave and grand repose of his countenance, he would hardly have known him.
. ,•
The livid hue of death was fast spreading over his mother's face,
He stooped forward to catch the sound of her breathing. It grew '
quick and faint. - "My mother " - She opened he r eyes, for the Jut
time, upon him, - a faint flush passed over her cheek, - there wu •
the serenity of an angel in h er look, - her hand just pressed l1is. It
was nil over.
His spirit had endured lo its utmost. It sunk down from its UD•
earthly height; and with his face upon his moth er's pillow, he wept
like a child. H e arose with a violent effort, and ste pping into the·
adjoining chamber, spoke to his au nt. "It is past," said he. " Is my
sister asleep?- \Veil, then, let her have rest; she nee ds it."
then went to his own chamber and shut himself in.
.;
It is a merciful thing that the intense suffering of sensitive minds
makes to itself a relief. Violent grief brings on a torpor, and an in•
distinctn ess, a nd dimness, as from long watching. It is not till the
violence of nfllictio.n has subsided, a11il gcntll' and soothing thoughll _
can find room f.o mix with our sorrow, and holy consolations can min•
ister to u s, that we are alile to know folly our loss, and see clrar]7 .•
what has bee n torn away fro111 our allcct io11s. Jt was so with Arlhur1
U nconuccte d and strange thoughts, with m e lan c holy but half.formed
images, were floatin g in his mind, and now and then a gleam of light
would pass through it, as if he had bee n in a troubl ed trance , and all
was right again. His worn and tired feelings nt last found rest iii
sleep.
'
It is an impression which we cannot rid ourselves of if we would,
when silting by the body of a friend, that he h as still a. consciou8ne• '
of our presence, - that though the common concerns of the world
have no more to do with him, he has still a. love and care of us. 1'btt
face which we had so long been familiar with, wh e n it was a.II life
and motion, seems only in n state of rest. We kn ow not how to
make it real to. ourse lves, that the body before us is not a living thing.
. Arthur was m such a state of mind, as he sat alone in the room by ·
lus mother, the day after her death. It was as if her soul had been
in parad.ise, .and wa.s ~ow holding communion with pure spirits there , ·
thou/.\"h 1t. Ht11l abode m t.hc hody that. lay he/Urn hi111. I In foll n1
sa.nct1fi" d by the prnse nce of one lo whom the othe r world had ucea
laid ope.n,_ - os if un.der the Joye and protection of one made holy1
The re ligious re flections that lus mother had early taught him, gave'
h~m strength; a spmtual composure s tole over him, and he found · .
lumself prepared to perform the Inst offices to the dead.
• '
Is it not enough to see our fri ends die, and part with them for the

·He

If .

193

· .remainder of our dnys, - to refl ec t that we shall hear their voices no
more, and that they will never look on us again, - to see that turning
,,jo corruption which was but just now alive, and e loquent, an4 beau·•µrul with all the sensations of the soul ? Are our sorrows so sacred
and peculiar as to make the w orld as vanity to us, and the men of it
~· 11Rtmnger~,1uul shall we 11ot hn left to onr nllli c tions for n few hours?
' Must we be liruught out at such a time to the concerned or careless
pze of those we know not, or be made to liear the formal proffers of
.t,eonsolation from acquaintances who will go away and forget it nil?
Shall we not be suffered a little while a holy and heal ing communion
·with the dead? Must the kindred stillnPss and "loom of our dwel• ling be changed for the solemn show of the pall, the talk of the pass!'rB·by, and the broad and piercing li ght of the common sun ? Must
the ceremonies of the world wait on us even to the open graves of
• our friends?
·. ~' When the hour came, Arthur rose with n firm step and fixed eye,
though his whole face was trem ulous with the strug~le within him .
' He went to his sister, and took her arm within hi s. The bell struck.
Ita heavy, undulating so und rolled fo rward like a sea. H e felt a violent beuting through hi s whole frame, which shook him that he reeled.
It was but a momeutary weakness. He moved on, passinu those who
.. surrounded him, as if th ey had lieen shadows. ·while he followed
the slow hea rse , there was a vacancy in his eye as it rested on the
coffin, which showed him hardly conscious of what was before him.
.. Hia spirit was with his mother's . As he reached the grave, he shrunk
• back and turned deadly pale; liut sinki ng his head upon his breast,
•, ,and dra~ing his hat over h is face, he stood motionless as a statue till
the service was over.
· . ·He had gone through all th at th e forms of society required of him.
.}'or us p•tinful as th e effo rt wns, and as little suited ns snch forms
.were to his own th oug hts upon the s uhjPct, yet he could not do any
. thing that might appear tp the wo1ld lik e a want of reverence and
, tt1pect for hi s mother. The scene was e nd ed , and the inwnrd stru11' rle over; and now that he was left to himself, the greatness of Jus
!Olla came up full and distinctly before him.
It wns a dreary and chilly eveni ng when he retu rned home. When
he entered the house from which his mother had gone for ever, a
sense of dreary emptiness oppressed him, as if his very abode had
been dese rted by e very living thin g. He walked into his mother's
ebamlier. The naked bedstead, and the chair in which she used to
1it, were all that was le ft in the room. As he threw himself back
into the chair, he groan ed in th e bitterness of his spirit. A feeling
of forlornn ess came over him which was not to be relieved by tears.
.,,_, Bbe, whom he had watched over in her dying h0ur, and whom he
, had. talked to as she lay lie fore him in death, as if s he could hear
and answer him, had gone from him. Nothing was left for the
lenses to fasten fondly on, and tim e had not yet taught him to think
or her only as a spirit. But time and holy Pndeavours brou ~ ht this
oon1olr1t.io11; an1l t.he Iii.I.It• of lifi, I.hat n w11sti11!! di,Pn se left 111111, wns
pa11cd by hi111, when alone, in thoughtful tranquillity; nnd nmongst
hi1 friends he appeared with tlrnt gentle cherrfulness, which, before
1 hi. moth er's death, had been a part of his nature.
17

<

194

--·~-----·

AIDS TO

,._ -

-

- - -- - -

195

ENGLISH COMPOS ITION.

EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE,

The folding,

The student may now unite narration and description i!L
the same exercise, by presenting the history am! characlerr;;~~~~~~:=;::~~~~~~
of the patriarch Joseph, - - of King David, - - of Sot.;
omon, - - of Job, - - of the apostle Paul.
·
The materials for these exercises he may glean from t
sacred volume, but the language he employ s shou ld be hi
own. If he is sufllcicntly acquainted with geog raphy, hi
tory, &c., he may be required to embrace iu his perform: · .
ance, some account of the mode of li fe, &c., and in ampli;
fied history, represent his subject in fictitious scenes. '
'"
In the same manner, he may present uotices of any other
character which may occur in the course of his readinu
observation.
<l He may also reverse the process of am1Jlifyina
.,,,
.
as d 1recte on page 176th, and present a brief abstract of ,
"Dear Sir,
the model of this Lesson.
·
"I write to inform you," &c.,

or

~.,,,the

EPISTOLARY CORRESPONDENCE, OR LETTER WRITING.• ·~

A Letter is, perhaps, one of the most common, as well ·•
as one of the most useful forms of composition, and there :
are few, who can read or write at all, who are not frequently
called upon to perform it. Under the head of Letter Writ·
in g, it is intended in this Lesson to include all the forms of
epistolary correspondence, whether in the shape of billets,
notes, formal letters, or ceremonious cards, &c. It is proper
to premise, that, whenever a letter is to be written, regard ,
should be had to the usual forms of complimentary address; · ·

""
" It is genera lly allowed, that epistolary writing, if not one of the high:
est, is one of the most difficult branches of com osition. An elegant lel.ter. IS mUC I. mor
:
an an e egant specimen 0 any other kind
writing. I~ 1s fo r this reason, that the author has deviated from the usual·:·
orde r practised by respectable teachers, who give epistolary writing the
fir•! place in th e attention of the student. H e has decmecl it cxpcuiont
to re. vc the "" ll cc t fiH· this "
·
for the practice ol
tit" stu1lc 1.1. w 10 1as 1cc 11 prc vrnu sly cxen:i Rc<l in other attempts. At thil
sta ge of his progress, he may be prolitalily exerc ise d in the writi ng
letters. The teacher may now require him to write notes, billets and
lette rs addressed to'.' real or-fiGlitious person, announcing some eve~t,11r
on some formal subj e ct. T 1e teacher cannot be too articular in hil
directions with regard to fo din • ee n
. or
ne • -"
gen ,
ea ness, are w1l 1 d1 cu ty eradicate .

or

11

L

or

answer should be in the first person, also; thus,
, "Dear Sir
·•· -· "I have'receive<l your letter," &c., or "Your letter
informing me, &c., has been received, and I hasten to
aay," &c.
' . If the letter is written in the tltird person, thus,
"Mr. Parker has the honor of inforrniurr the Hon. Mr.

. mer, " & c.,
Dnm

"'

th·e answer shou ld , also, be in the tltird person ; thus,
"Mr. Brimmer has received the letter of Mr. Parker," &c.
'I'he name of the writer should always be subscribed to
the letter, when it is written in the first person, but never
· when it i:-i written in the third. The date of the Jetter
, . 1hould also be written at tlte beginni11g, when the letter is
. ·' written in the first person, and at tltc end, when it is written
in the third. The address of the lette r shou ld be written
pn<ler the signature and towards the left side of the letter,
when it is written in the first person, but not when it is
writlen in the third.
A neat and well-written letter is a much more rare )l'Oduction than it ou ht to be. Few directions can be given
,
gar to the composition of a letter; but it is intended
io this Les;:;on, to give some general directions with rega rd
to the mechanical execution of letters, notes, and billets.

------196

AIDS TO

197

ENGLISH COMPOSITION • .

A letter should embrace the following particulars, namely, •
Ist. The date. 2d. The complimentary address. 3d. Tl1e
body of the letter. 4th. The style, or complimentary closing:
5th. The signature; and, Gth. Th e address, with the title,
if any.
, .
The date should be written near the right hand upper ,
corner of the sheet. The complimentary address followH, a'
little lowe r down, near the left hand side of the sheet. The
body of the letter should be commenced yery near! y under
the last letter of the complimentary ad dress. The style, or
complimentary closing, should stand very nearly under the
last lette r of the body ; th e signature very nearly under the
last le tter of the style; an<l the address shou ld be place<l a'
little below the signature and towards the left hand si<le uf
the sheet.

MODEL OF Tll E FORM OF A LETTElt.

(date.)

f!l!oatonJ uftay 2~ :I' 343.
(complimentary address.)

f!lfetW" Sl-i0)

J
t1ent a

(ew j w!at4i

.dave mzkvoMd to fie=

clr,:ieclr.ono

/nv leltez=u.nr,tr/;zjh

will /e <Ju/fcun-t/y t?zteld"=
1r:tle wt'?!fout nutc.d la/med exflanatwn. ~
1f'I!~

J

.dojze)

1

!llODEL.

iowevtW 1

J

.dave Wlz/o2titnate/f; n~ctecl anl/

J

matezd fot?it)
Date.

Cor~<lress.

de
{Q

clej{cr,encl/1

{

dlfal/ ve'tlJ J'acl/y- . <iufli/f;
f'°u w;t/ dave tlfe dt4ichzeou

nientton r,t1 et.t!f0v ftnoonal/y 1 o?"

ly note.

(complimentary closing.)

~u'td 'teojwctf,r,/.t,)
(signature.)

pn Ynztd.
(th e address , or superscriplion.)

y/6.i.

Address.

fYdolcit

Y.

.

!22favt'o.

' ;. In yery formal letters, the address should precede the
letter and the signature, so that th e individual addressed

. may, at first sight, perceive that the communication is in'tended for him, before he hns tnk e n the trouble to read it
through. In this case, also, th e <late should I.Jc written
below, in the place of the address.
17*

198

199

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

•AIDS TO

2

1

MODEL OF A FORMAL LETTER.

Bostu1

Jo

Dear Sir:
Yo1lr letter of the 7th
htuJ been d·u ly .-eceivcd, and I
1hall, at my earliest lc(s1u·e ,
attend to the business, to
1nhich yott have thernin called
my attention.
Youi·s 1·espcctfully,
Ge01·ge Jlolbrovk.
Jlfr. R. S. Dttv is.

tde Jcfon. vft0. afu4n1ne01

vfba11rw

o/ f%looton .

!/~)

:f!Ze judlc oc!Zoo/a

Dear Si>'
1

has been t
shall, al
a.ttenrl tt
t1Jhich y01
myatten.t·
You1·
Mr.R.S

1 t£iJ

4

CO?Jvn-ionwead!f <tM tmdc?" }''teat o·&'f?atwn4 ~

you /o1v Yott?" la-te numrftcent l'encfctton. ::f/at
y ott ?na7 /o?1;J ftve lo wd1zc<J<J and lo 'tr;tt'tce
1

wutety

de
extended tn(dtencM
twn io t!fe azdent wt'alf

o/

...•

o/ tlfat .&ne/ac=

..:

·'"""''······ · ···-· '

s::,-,,,)
~Md1 vezy zeofiect/u/!y;

f7dtcli' d <fj. G9a0kez.

5

[%/ooton; v£tt,ttMt Sci / 34.S.

The folding of a letter, though in itself a thing of appa•
rently trivial importance, - is
·
eser
· ,
The lollowmg diagrams Will be more intelligible than writ·
ten directions.*
" There is a sli ght mistake in the proportions of the fo lds in the second
and third fi ~ ~r~s of the diagram, which was not discovered until it wae too
late to re ctify 1t. The figure s represent th e firs t fold as one third of the .
wi<lth of the whole s hee t. It ought to he one qnarler onl y. The second '
fold shou ld ue of the width of 011 c half' of the remainder of the sheet, 10
that th e left hand edges will ue ev~n. Lette rs fo ld ed rxact/-y as represented
in the diagram, will have the appearance of double letters.

7

6

8

·B B

9

YfLY:::§lJavc;;
.!:fJ~oto1b .

- -·
200

~- -

AIDS TO

--------

----

-..__,,---~---

201

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

In the superscription of a letter, ihe title of Honorable ia,
; The members of a house of representatives, or of a board
generally given by courtesy to the Vice-President of the
'ti
aldermen, taken collectively, should be addressed as
U nite<l States; to the Lieutenant-Governor of a State; to
lilThti Honorable," &c.
the Senators and Representatives of the United Stales· lo
the Senators of the respective States, an<l to the .T udge~ ot
all the courts; to the Mayor of a city ; to the Heads of Demembers of His Majesty's Most• Ilonornlil e Privy Council; to the Lord
Mayors of Londnn, ) rorlc, and lJuhlin, and to th e Lord Prov~st of Edinpartments, &c. In addressing the Preside nt of the United '
hurgli , during tlic time tho y are in_onicc; to _the Sp,ca ker ol th e Hou se
States, the Governor of a Commonwealth, or an Ambassador
' of Commons: to the Lords Conrnussioners of the lreasury, Admiralty,
of the United States, the title " His Excellency" * 0crener~~~r~1~:1 ~,~d0 f 1 ~~,~~~: 0 ::\~~f,:cssci! thus , ~ T o thr f1irrht Hnnm·ohlr !ho
1
ally uscd.t
·;-==i=~
_
J,orils Sniritual and Temporal of r.lu' UniteJ J\inuuo7u of Great l31itai11

is

:

a.nd

frr l~nd

in

P:ir!iamrnt :1!'-'!"f>mhlf"d.

- - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - .lliiijltiiiii1:"'-Lordships.
s~~- o <1nt(l?WlTICTE~a, Lesson XX.IV., page 82.
~iiii!~~lhr, Ho 11~1 ~ or ( '. 1111tt!ttlll~
-)f

i Ao l1f.l('_s arc Jormrdl _v recog-nizPd h_Y Lnv i11 tlti ~ ('f)l!nlr v, t:Xf'f'pt in
~l\1:tssa~husctt~: w~ere the )f!f:l;il _tit.IA .-.r tl!t: _G '-·~_'=r 11 ,_,r ~s :t II!::! 1::xce!~~f1 cy,
~ln<l t1 1,ll uf tl.!e L!eutena!tt-lie\· en~or, " Hi:; Hm:u r ··; and tncretorn i i
it is stated abov e, it is by r.ollrlesy only, that the usa (!e' has obtai~ed.

1

A_s it is poss ibl e that this volume may fall into th e hauds of some indi·

!:-: :1ddr t~S::'~~d

11-lu

Lr•rd .~.

t!iu-::. -

1l-ia!f

ii 'f)/.-.-,s,,

y nnr

,

th1: l lonnr:dd ('. ll l C
Kn i1J lii..':>. CiLiZ l~ ll S . J.. llJ Du r:. .!_ c.S:::;cs uC tl 1c u 11il_1_• J J, i 1\(l•11 11 ('f f-: 1·r·;tt nr it:tin
1
:ind Jrciand in P:i!'!t:lmcr~t :isscmb!ed. t--f e n~t "! ?!' "!'n, '. r 11 -ln-i_,1 it 1 1!"''-"" ~mur
' l'o

llfl t J-J i l'.1:,

'l\e •ons of Vi sco unts and Barons are sty led Honorable and Esquire;
and their daughters have their letters autlresseci tl1u•, - Tu tl1e Iluuun1.-

ble M i~~ or Mr~. D. R.
~e king's commission confers the title of I-101101·~b~e on any gentlemen i_n
1 pl8:ce of honor or trust; such ns, tl_1c Commrn~1oner2 of E;crne~ His
Majesty's Customs, Board of Control. &e., Admirals of the Navy, GcnH flin>cliuus for ,~ur1f!r.~cr·iptin11s and Perms rf ... icldrcss
eral~I Lif"1th-.. 11 :1n! -Gt-•tH"'r:·'1"': H!!!l cf.Jon p l,::.: in t.hA /\ rmy. . .
.
wery R!lnk.
I nobleme n, or me n of tit.le, in tho army and navy, use their title by right;
1uch as iionorabie, before their ti tic of rank, su cl1 as Ca.plain, &c.; thus,
!The superscription, or what is pnt· on tlrn nut.'li.!f) of R lt""lft>r, i~ print~rl ht =~F==- tlte llro·n1•,-of·I~ ( .'01.to/n .J ::on-10:-" .ff!mA;; of th P. - - . iSfr. nr ..l'onr Hunur.
H?ma~ cha.racte!~, and ~e?ins with To. The tcl'mF; of rufdrf ..... 11~ed In f1tgltt· /onorablc j 8 due, ~ 1 f~ c_ 1 , to '-l!c {'.ond. 0 ('fllrt--t•t 1_ 1r~ r1f t hA V,:i;t inrli;i Compa ..
nm; t'1tl1rr n lr:ttC'r, n pct1t1on. nr verh;1J nclr!rr·ss , a r 1~ pri11fcd i11 I talic letters 1 irn·
ny, t!ie Govenwrs :.rn<l Lltµuty - \.~uverH u rs ,-_. f tli1:; Jt 1nk o f r.n g1:w:1.
v1dt1al s, who are cunm!s to know something of th e forms of address in the

mother country, th e following directions are e xtrac ted from the Grammar
of l\fr. Lennie, published in EcJinburgh a few years ago.
.

mediately nncr the superscrip t ion.

The blanla.s u.re lo lie JilicU lllJ wilh the re

lrnrne 1:rnJ lidt:.]
"To the King's Most Excellent lVfoiestv.- Sir•. or, Mauil 1''"'-" "'''"
Majesty. Conclude a petition, or speech, with, - Your iVIajesty's moil
Loyal and Dutiful !Subject.
To the Queen's Most Excellef\( Majesty, - lliadam, or, May it please YOU/'
ltlajest11.
•
To his Royal Highness, Frederick, Duke of York, - 11Iay it please yoor
Royal HiglmP.ss.
·
In the same manner address every other member of the Royal Family:
male or f emale.
Nobility. To his Grace the Duke of--, My Lord Duke Yo1tr Gract
'
'·
or, 111ay it please your Grace.
To t~e Most Noble the Marquis of--, il:fy Lord 111arquis, Your Lordsln.7>.

(,o the H! ght Honorable--, F.'.'rl of--, illy f.nrrl , Ynw· Lordship.
Io the Right Honorable Lord Viscount--, illy Lord, iltay it please your
Lordsh1:,,.
To l11e Right Honorable Baron--, My
ship.
The wives of noblemen have th!.' same Titles with their hu sbands thua t ~
To her Grace the Du chess of--, 1111111 it. J1lrose y1111r Crai·e.
'
To the Iti_i.:ht llonoralilc L:uly Aun Hose, -111y Lady, 1l1ay it ·1,zcase yn111
/,w.Jysl11p.
The titles of Lord anti Rig ht Honorable am given to all th e sons of Dukel
I 1\1
·
d
I
d
anc
arqurses, an to lie e l est •ons of Earls; and the title of Ladr
and R ig/it Honarable, to all their daughters. The youncrer sons of Earll
arc all 1-lonorables and EsqnirP.s.
"
Right I-Jonorable is due to Earls, Viscounts, and Barons, and to all

I'!

titlP f•~ _rrP!/,,,,w·u

i.::i frivf>n

f~ rill ;\mh~:p:q:::;irlnri:< , PIPnirntPntinriP.~. <inv-

· e~nor; in forei rr~ c:o~ntries, to the Lord-Lieuie nant., ·and to the l~ords

Joot.i~~· of the Rirwrlom of Ireland. Address such thus.o his Excellency Sir--, Bart., Hi s flritannic lVfojesty's Envoy Extraordinnry, and Plenipotentiary to the Court of Rome, - Your Excellen.cy,
ltfay it please ynu.r E:r:cellency.
n tit!A Right JVm-.•!:infid . is :riven to the Sheriffs. Aldermen. and Reenrder oi London ; a1;a til01·si~ipfui, to the Aiclermen a11u Recorders of
other
Corporations, and to Justices of the Peace in England, - Sir,
1
or Yo1tr J-Vorship.
The <::lergy are all styled R everend, except the Archbishops and Bishops,
who have something additional; tlrns, To His Grace the Arc hbi shop of C;rnterhury, or, To the llfost Reverend
, Father in God, Charles, Lord Archbishop of Canterbury, -My Lord,
- or Yollr Grace.
To the R ight Heverencl Father in God, John, Lord Bishop of - - , My
·Lord, or Yol•i' / .01·dsliip.
To the very R ev . Dr. A. B., Dean of--, Sir.
__
'1'o the Rev. Mr. Desk, or, To the Rev. John Desk.t

, •Tho Privy ComtRellors, tnken collectively nre styled his Mnjesty's JIIost
Bonornhlo l'rlvy Co 1111cil.
' I It sr.om• to he 11nsr.l.ll c<l whether Jlrr . •hn11hl bo nRc<l n!lcr llcucrcntl, or not,

11

my npilllon (1m ya Mr. J.e md c) it ~honld, hcr:nusc It give~ n clcrgy111nn htA nwn

Moor•ry title over ntul Ruovc I.he co111111on ono. l\lny wo nut u•o tho H~v . -~Ir.
M well as the Rev. Dr. ? llesid es, we do not nlw11ys recollect whether his name
la James, or John, &c. lllr., in such a cn.e, would look better on the back of _a
lelter than 8 long, ill -tlrttwn dn•h, tllll•, The llcv. __ Desk. Jn short, Mr. ts
- i by our bes t writers nner Reverend, but not uniformly. The words To the,
IOI being necessary on the bac k of a Jetter, nro seldom used ; but, in addressing
II In the inside, Jen hand corner, at the bottom, they are generally used.

--_,, ....

-

-

- - --

-

f'O!·ll ' t•S!T ! ON.

E>r;L J Sll
AID S T O

or

J<:,11 11i rc IS :ii« ) !:':il'r lJ !n· cn11r1e '.I' , i11 the
ul' a lct tl' r , to :i ll ,:.; r 111l 1·1 111• 11 tu 11 li <JJ ll 11·c wish
to :"ii<>W rcsp ••ct ; b111, whi• 11 t li 1• tit le 11 011 . o r l1011 11rable is
11,ed, that of E''l'1irc i' :ii wan to hc 0111 11ti·d , 011 tli<' prin ciple that t lic gr c;1t c r cm1t;1i11 s t l1< : less. l•'u r tl 1c s :1111c rca soa,
t l1 c t it le 1\lr. s liuulu uc \'l: r precede t l1at o l' Es11 111re .
T l1 c t itle

~ 1q w r:' 1 ·. 1·ipt w 11

(ll' ,\11 T 1: .-,; l> l

OF Tl!E

1-(1! ~'11

01·

:-; 111 1 ... .:.

Pl

1 .\ \ ll :\ ! l () _\'

i \ l l lf

lllL

H l .l'J.Y.

ln 1·it 11li11 n /irr L/11 ' L' 1·r ni11 c: .

I _\\ ! '!'. \Till;\.

i r / (11-J/)

N otes o f i111·it:1 t io 11 , C:'l: Cl' pl 11liC're a '._'.re;1t d 1·..;n:c ol' i'<unili·
I
,/ /
( I ; /( I
i :1 ritr is u'c d , :i rC' '.;c 11 1· r:tlh- 1n it ri•11 11 1-t li c tlill'II l""rco11, nnd
(
ct " . I
0 11 p:1pcr ol' '' 111allte r s iz(c, c;til<'d l>ill d p:i p('r . 'l'liP :J ll Sll'CI S
t..1
lif( f .j /1 i( ~I ( / I /
, l101 il il ;1l'<J IH~ 11r it11·1 1 i11 t lH· tl11ril p e r'"", ;11 1il 1l1t: same
fi J1111' ,, f' <'\pl! ' 'oll>l l .'-' lio1 il il IJr ' 11.,i;rl , <i.' tl111-i; c1 11pl11ycd iu
J/
"---) t lt lt i11vit:1 t 1011.
A d(' p<nl11rc f'ro111 tl 1e 1; >1- 111 s<-'e111,; Ji-J;.,___,..,,,c--t
r __,, illTO~'lll'~ "' o t" "llj•erinr l<11nwl•·.f ~,_. of irous i_Ptl': lint . whert""- . an expression is m:inifost l y ont o f pl;1rc, or irnp ro prr, too~!!l!!!i'!E
,,) \niter of the reply is br 110 111caus liouuJ to sacrllic.e Li&~;.=:!:~
(
0 11·11 sc 11,- c "I p r1·, l'·ill~.Y l~l t l1c c ;11 d1;;;s 11css ur t lic 1g11orance

;_

/

'

'1 1·1, , ; 1( 1/ l r! / I
I
---) l ;J

(

/ /; ,

;I;;

f f ) ( (, / f

.

.1

,!j/

___ I

'\ of the oue who addresses lii111.
The same observations that were made with regard to=::• = =
{
liie dale u!' a Jetter aJJresseJ 111 ti1e tl11rd perw 11, Hppiy ai!!OF!fliF!!~
'--. to notes of invitation. Th'c date s hould be at the bottom = :m::::::= ,...
of the note, and at the left hand .*
.•

/

Th e general address to cle rgy me n is, Sir , and wh e n written to 1 R evtrtM
Sir. Deans and Archdeacons arc usual ly call ed Mr. 1Jean, .llir. Arc/i.
deacon.
Alltlre•s th e P ri ncipal of th e U nivers ity of Edinburgh thu s , - To the Very
Rc.v. Dr. 13 ., Princ ipal of the Un ive rsity of Ed inburgh, - 1Joctor; whea
w ritte n to, Very R el>. Doctol'. Th e ot her Professo rs thu s, - To Dr. D,
ll., Professor of L ogic in th e University of E., - JJoclor. If a Cle rgy•
man, say, - To the l{ev. Dr. J. M ., Professor of, &c., - Revern.4
lJoctor.
Those who are not Drs. are styled E sqnire, bu t not Mr. too; thus, -To
J .P., E8q. , Profe sso ~ of Human ity in the U11iversity of Ed inburgh, - Sir,
If h ~ has a literary Litl e, 1t 111 ay ~ e a<l<lcd .. Thus , 'l'u J . l'., Esq. , A. llf.,
Professor of, l~C.
l\fa ~ i st rates, Barristers at Law, or Ad vocates , and Me mbers of Parl iament,
viz. of the Ho'!se _of Commons, _(these last have M. /'. after Esq.,) and
a ll ge ntl eme n 111 rnde pen de ut c1rcumstances are s tyled Esq1tire 1 1114
th e ir wives Mrs."
'
1

" When notes or le tt.r.rs arr. :uldrc•sr.<1 to ~cnl l P m on of the snmo nnmt1
they should he addressr:d, "'J'h" M""""·.'' or." Mc"''"·"; if tu tw o single
laUi es, "'I1he Misses," not,'' ' l 1 he l\1iss." ·r1111s 1 "'rhe .IVIis ses Brown,"
or " The l\fisses Davis," no t " The l\1iss Browns " nor " The Miif
Davis es.''
'

vftt. and .AM. Yt54ajt?na?t acc<jtt

wetd jtkaouM ul&zJ . .!/?;nr:tlt a t?ivdatton /o-1"
:Jlfu-ioclay lf,vrfJ t!fe 5 t4 t?zot. t
J

Yi./feat?ud

Sft-.

:lftct.

:f 2 t!!

1 A.a the Indy, is ge nerally co ns itl crn<l ns the head of the t cn-t.nbl c, th ere
. .mB to ho n prnpriet.y in tho invitation t o tea, or tho cveuing, comi ng
tom lho lady of th e hou se nl one.
t Or, Mr. and Mrs. Clia.pma.n regret that a previous engagement will de .f!Rlt them of the pleasure of accepting llfrs. Smith's polite invitation for
·nuradait Eveni111r, the 5th inst.
_ The address of a gentlema n to a lady's invitation may be : .Mr. Chapman
/iii ti" honor of accepting , &c., o r, 1'eg1'ets that a previous engagement will
prn>mt his having the honor, &c.

r--..-..---.- . -- -.----.-.---.----.---- --

204

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COMPOSITION,

Invitation· at Dinner.

~-z. :J'yle1" -zt:juMtd
tlfe Jrfrnz. uf&t. Ott/ co11tjtanp at
on

.9atu-zday

next at 5 J clocif.

alowdom Sjua-ze

1

°lf8edneaday1

/'

:Jtlf

Jul}.

Tltc Reply.

205

head of epistolary correspondence, may also
embraced the different forms of ceremonious cards, deigned for morning calls, nuptial ceremonies, &c. As these
re all supposed to h.e written or dictated by the individual
. ho uses them, no title conceded by courtesy alone should
ever be seen on them. Even the prefix of Mr. on a gentleman's card, savors of arrogance, for the literal meaning of
the prefix is " Master." But the case is different on the
card of a Iady, and the prefix Mrs. (although it means " Mislress ") is to be used, in order to distinguish her name
from that of her husband. The question may arise, whether
the residence should be inserted on the card. To this
question a decided affirmative reply is given, although it is
known to be at variance with not unfrequent usage. The
omission of the residence seems to imply the belief, that theindividual is a person of such distinction, that the knowl-edge of the residence is a matter of notoriety, and needs
-: not to be mentioned. Now, in all the courtesies of life,
the individual s eakin of himself, should s eak modest! um1 1ty ; and, however 1stmcr
1e ma be
:, h
ou
e gUI ty o no arrogance of distinction. The " · msert10n of the residence, therefore, is to be recommended
on this ground alone, to say nothing of the possibility of
· , mistake, arising from the bearing of the same name by two ,
_different families or by two different individuals.
· In the cards of the young ladies of a family, the family
name, with the prefix of "llfiss" is proper to be used without
the "Christian name," by the eldest of the single daughters.
c

~-z. Ott;J acce(i& wd1( jtdaou-ze

:J'y/e/ o

t;}zvda-k on at ck/inc?'"' on ~tuidaf

next at 5 J c/octf.

aleacon

e9l-iee-t~

:Ylfa/tdcla y) 1'4tlf

r!J·

With regard to the seali~g of a letter, if a wafer is to
used, care should be taken that it be not made too moi~
for, in that case, it. will not receive a good impression from ·
the seal ; and, moreover, is apt to give tl1e letter a soiled
appearance. But they who are particular about these ma '
ters always use wax in preference to wafers.*
· _: :.

lit'

" Lord Chesterfield, having received a lette r sealed with a wafer,'
said to have expressed strong disapprobation, saying, "What does the fi

low moan by sending me his own spillle ! " It is related, also, of Lord
- lfolson, that, in the very midst of the Battle of Copenhagen , when the work
. of cnrnage and destruction was th e hottest around him, and he judged it .
- Upedient to propose a cessation of hostilities, a wafer being brou~ht to
- _' •Ian to seal his communication to the Danish authorities, he rejected
'tit, directing the wax and a taper to be brought, saying, "What! shall I
1tnd my own spittle to the Crown Prince 7" In this latter case, however,
' JO/icy might have been mingled with refinement; for a wafer seems to }' Imply haste and the sealing of his letter with a wafer would have implied
-a desire for a spe edy cessation of hostilities, which would have been con- ·
itrued into a necessity of the same, and have rendered his enemies confi- .:ilent of succ ess, and unwilling- to accede to the proposal. The coolness
· lld dcliucrntion implied in the sealing with wax, concealed from his enc. aiea the knowledge of the condition of his fleet, and disposed them to
IOmply with his wishes.
There is a kind of transparent, glazed wafer very much in use at the ·
sent day, but even this seems to be obnoxious to the same objectiona,
-it impli es haste , whi c h is inconsistent with the studied courtesies of'"
DOiished life , and, moreover, involves the necessity of sending one's own .
I< tpittle."
18

206

AIDS TO

The Christian names of the younger daughters
inserted. To illustrate by an' example, suppose a gentle.
man, by the name of Artltui· S . Wellington, resides with ~iJ
family, a wife and three daughters, Caroline .lJf., Catliari111
S., and Augusta P., in Tremont Street. His card should be:

v£it:ia?"

Y.

UJPe/l{,77;jton,

~i Another class of cards,"'° called business cards, form a
c0nvenient mode of advertising, and are much used at the
esent day. Of these it will. be sufficient to ~a~, that t~ey
abould be short, comprehensive, clear, and. d1st111ct. 1 he
card of an attorney o·r a counsellor at law will read thus:

. 01/f9/!liam &/aclatone,

Yienzont Ytieet.

<G'ounoe/d?",

that of his wife,

vftio. Jtitfu?"

;J;,enwnt !liiut.
vltiotJ ~//~ton,
::henwnt .!rheet.
his second daughter's,

Y.

UJPe/t:~n,
;J;,enzont Ytieet.

his third daughter's,

O?"

Attoiney, at ~wJ

47

!?. ~//~ton,

his eldest daughter's,

vf&MtJ <G'adaiWie

207

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

<G'oeut

!?tieetJ
&OtJton.

'/llference:
Hon. Juhn Dane,
Nath'l Royall, Esq.

• The card of a physician may be expressed in the follow-

ing form:

1fJ;t/Ui?n Qfan(o't~ J/6. 92!, vft. vf&. Y.,
5 7 01/PWite?" S/lieet,
&OtJton.

~MtJ v£«juota &5. °1Pe//&z,1ton,
;J;,emmit !J?bteet.
On the death, or marriage, of the eldest daughter, the second daughter becomes Jl!Iiss Wellington,ff &c.
• On wedding cards, or cards preceding a wedding, there is considcrabl1
diversity of opinion, whether the name of both the gentleman and tht
lady should be inserted, or whether that of the lady alone should be el•
pressed. A decided opinion is, however, expressed, that the name of t1t.t
lady alone belongs on the card. She is lo be the future mistress of tht
house; ove r its internal arrange ments she alone has (or should have) any
control, and to her alone also, all visits of ceremony are directed. The
same reasons, therefore , which exclude the name of the husband from th1
notes of invitation, seem to apply with equal forc e to the exclusion of the
name of th~ future hu sban~ from the wedding c ards . 'l'hus, supposing that .
Mr. John Singleton and Miss Sarah Greenwood intend marriage the wedding card should be expressed thus:
'
Miss Sarah Greenwood.
At home on 'J'uesrlay Eve'g at 8 o'clock.
48 Winter Street.

; The card of a commission merchant is as follows :

c:Ytloiatio ~)
<G'onznzu.oion vftaclfantJ

49 mte?"

!J?btee1J

JWw CJ/(ntf.
Reference:
&muel Good,
}
Fiske Sr Rand,
Esquires.
George W. Lawrence,
•There are some portions of this Lesson, particularly those_ relating to
ceremonious observances in epistolary correspondence, which may be

-

----208

209

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

LESSON LVI.

E X AMPLES FOR PRA CTI C E .

Tlte student ma.y now write notes, billets, and
tlte following suluects :

)

(
"'-

)

I

~
)
/

A billet of invitation to dinner, - to tea, - to p:iss the
ev ening, mentioniug the time, place, &c.
A note, requesting a private interview on important
busin ess.
A letter, announcin g th e d eath of a fri e nd, - a brother,
- siste r, - father, - mother, &c., and addressed to the
same individuals respectively.
,,, A lette r, describing a ride in a sta ge-coach, (m entioning
the passengers, &c. , and their deportm ent,) to or fro
any to wn or city mentioned.
A letter, informing a fri e nd of the misfortunes of an:o01er.
.
A letter , an nou nc in g a birth, ma rriage, or e ngagem ent in
the fami ly.
A note , requesting the loan of a volum e.
DIRECTIONS .
A letter of thau ks fol' som e favor received .
I. Before takinir~ up th e pen to write, it will be well to
A letter to a parent abse nt in a d istant co untry.
· ·
· ......;~- thin!c fo r som e ti me· on t he ~ U hJ·ec t; herr
hy fixing in
an account o f an o n l i11 at ·1011 , <l e <l ·1ca t10n
·~ in n in
A Ietter, g1vmg
1
conce rt, exhibition, or of some curiosity.
the mind its exact mean ing; remov ing every thin g that is
A letter of fri end ship.
doubtful or equivocal in its sig nification; and, when diffiA letter of introduction . ~
culties of that kind occur, determining the true import of the
An ans we r to any of the above.
word by its etymology or deri.vation ; (s ee Lesson XVIIL,
page 48 ) or, by the mann er in which it is generally used
~y good writers.
.
.
.
d ee med out of place in a volum e pro fes sin g to trea t of grav e composition.
2. Having dete rmined the true meanmg of that wl11ch 1s
Th e auth or's a p o l o~y fo r the ir int.rodu cti on is th e want he has Jong felt o(
the subject of the e xe rcise , the ne xt step to be taken is, to
some thin g of the kin d fo r th e use o f hi s own pupil s.. He co nfesses, that
iacertain its n ecessary and accid ental qu alities. This may,
h e is alono respons ibl e for all th e direc tion s and th e sugges ti ons in the
introdu ction to th e Lesso n ; a nd, while he is co nsc ious th at th e attitude ol ·
generally, be don e by an an alysis. ( S ee L esson X III.,
a learn e r would beco me him better than th at of a teac he r in th ese poioll 1
.page 29.) Having ascertained these qual~ties, they sho~ld
he apologizes for his pres umption by th o sta te me nt, that he kn ows no
be conside red accordiug to the ir ord er, or 1mp-0rtance, with
sourc e in print, to whi c h he can re fCr th ose wh o are des irous of informa•
li on upon these topi cs. How h e has suppli ed th e de fi cie ncy he lea.et
j
reference , both to the ge neral and the particular effect
for oth e rs to judge. T o those wh o have any thing to obj ec t to wh at he
of each.
h as ad vanced, he respec tfnlly addresses th e words of th e Venu sian poet:
The qualities of the s ubj ect havin g been ascertained,
- - " Si quid novi•ti re ctiu s isti s,
" Candidus impe rti; si non, hi s ute re mec um."
together with the ir effects upon gen e ral or particular ob"
0

'a.

" It is not c ustom ary to se al a lett e r of introduc ti on.
• The author an tic ipates th e obj ection of stiffness, whi c h will probably
be raised by some , to the pl an pursued in this and in several. oth e r lesson s.
• He desires ho we ve r that it will be re membe red , that this porti on of the book
Iii designed for begir:ners ; and , th at its object" is not so mu c h. to for.m th e
lt~lt, as to furn ish m atter fo r writin g." "Ease is th e co~pl e t1on ~ f i:ve rr,
tperation of art, and the refore ought not to be cxpecteJ rn the begmmng.
18 *

\.

'

/

'
I

210

AIDS TO

ENGLISH CO.l\lPOSITION.

jects, a comparison is easily drawn between it and some
other object; (see Lesson XXXVllI., page J:J5) and such
comparison will readily furnish hints for au antithesis. (&.
Lesson XXXIX., page 137.) The antithesis will serve IO
present the sulijcct iu stronger light; and remove the nmb~
guity, which may exist with regard to any parts of thf
explanation.
. .
4. A consideration of what has been gained to the world
by the influence or operation of the subject; or, what tbe
world would have lost or wanted, had the su uj cct no exist•
ence, will suggest further ideas which may, with advantage;
be introduced into the exercise.
5. These reflections will enable
with accuracy, whether the suliject be good and commend. ..
alile; or bad and deprecable; and from what its excellence
or inferiority respectively proceeds.
,_.t
6. If the writer have any acquaintance with history and' r·
geography, he may consider, likewise, its connexion witll4·
the manners and customs of different nations, both .o f
cient and modem times; its prevalence at any period, or in ·'
any particular portion of the world ; and . the station in so- :·.
ciety where it especially prevails.
·:.,. '
7. These considerations and reflections form what ma/ '
be called the study of t!te suqject ; AND SHOULD G ENERALLt :I{

a• ,

BE MADE BEFORE THE WRITER TAKES UP HIS PEN TO

RE~ <

Each and all of them, by a fundamental principle of the mind, called association, will sug!
gest other ideas, which will not come alone ; and the diOi~ •
culty of ascertaining wliat to say will, probably, be su~
ceeded by the difficulty of determining wltat to omit. Herl}, ·.
·too, he may be assisted by a recurrence to the rules of unity, "
as they relate, not merely to a sentence, but to the whole ·
exercise.
"
CORD A SINGLE IDEA.

.

~!I

l~ _

ON A SUBJECT, AND THE METHOD OF TREA'l'ING IT.

•

,T.m If~ving
st~diea the subject in the manner pointed o~VU
the precedrng remarks, the pupil may write in the follow
,

(

rJ

L\_'{,

ing order, such ideas as he may have acquired.
· .
1. If the subje?t require explanation, define or explain'it
more at large, either by a formal <lcfi11itio11; (sec Lesso/I .
X.XXIIL, page 118,) by a paraphrase; (see L esson XLIX.,-~
page 16?) or by a description (see Lesson Lill., page 182.)
To ~v.01d tautology (see Lesson XXII, page 77) in tht
·defimt.1on, make use of a peri_phrnsis. (See Lesson XXI., ".

,page 76.)

211

· 2. Show what is the cause or origin of the subject; that
is the occasion of it, from what it proceeds, from
what it is derived, (see Lesson XVII., page 48) and how it
differs from what it is thought to resemble. (See Lesson

tis, what

.xxx1n;, page

118.)
·3, Show whether the subject he ancient or modern; that

isj what it was in ancient times, and what it is at present.
4. Show whether the subject relates to the whole world,

• Ot only

to a particular part of it.
5. Examiue whether the suLje ct Le good or had; show
,wherein it;i excellence or inferiority consists; au<l what are
-the advantages or disadvantages which arise from it.
~ -'. 6, Present the subject in an antithesis, (see Lesson
.JXXIX., page 137) with its opposite, or. wit~ something
different from it; and show, from the ant1thes1s, why the
· .subject is to be sought, or avoided, and its opposite is to
be desired or deprecated.
·
· ' 7. The exercise may be concluded with any general ob. .enations suggested by the subject, and intim~tely connected with it; or it may be brought to a close with a comparison. (See Lesson XXXVIII., page 135.)
'" These particulars may be thus briefly recapitulated :
-.S, 1. 1 The definition.
- ~.. 2. 'f he cause.
·; 3. The antiquity, or novelty.
1
'
4. The universality, or locality.
.
u 5. The effects, namely, the advantages or disadvantages.
·; 6. The antithesis.
':! 7. The conclusion and comparison.
·, The same remark may be made with regard to these
auggestions, as has already been made in .re~eren_ce to the
' enumeration of the particulars under description, m Lesson
· Liii., page 182 ; namely, that it is not necessary to embrace all of them in the same exercise ; nor in all cases to
iadhere to the same order iu the arrangement. The pup.ii
1hould be allowed to exercise his judgment, as well as his
·" invention, in this, a~ also in all other cases.
l\IODEL,

"'

Definition.

On Education.

The culture of the human mind (see Lesson
J;I XXI., page 76) has ever been considered, as one of_ the
.~ ·1 · most important concerns of society. Hence educ~t10n,
'r which has for its object the improvement of the mtel-

212

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

213

Jectual powers, (see Lessnns XIX and XX, pogu
-pense been lavished, and. more talent employed, than
54 and 63,) is a subject which demands the serioua ~~
in the advancement and 1mprovernc11t of the cau~e of
attention and the most liber al support of every indi-edncatio11. Our ford«1th crs have incorporated it .111
v1<lual in the community.
their civil institutions, and pledge d their sub~ta11ce fo r
Cause. A parent, who is sensible that his child is a ra.
~ its support. Hand in hand with religion , 1t has retional being, endowed with faculties susceptible of a
ceived the smiles of the aged, the favor of the goo~d,
high degree of cultivation, and is likewise conscious;:
, ::iE;:~
nnd the s11pport nnd e11co11rageme11t of the law. (Sec
that the happin ess of the child would in a great degree
Lcs:;un XXX V1., page 100.)
. .
be promoted by the improvement of those powers, would
Advantages. From the promotion of this 1mp?rtant ~t~b­
naturally bestow much attention to the suliject.
ject, the greatest benefits have. been derived.
l he
Antiquity. Accordingly, we find, that, from the earli.eat
. ·knowledge acquired by one port1_on of th_e .wor!d has
ages of the world, wherever the means of education
been transmitted to another, without d1stmct1011 of
have heen enjoyerl, few have neglected to avail them•
distance or diversity of age. The circ~e of h11111an
selves of its advantages. The Greeks and the Romana
enjoym e nts has been e11large<l, and_ a wide fi~ld has
among whom were produced such prodigies of excel·
·been opened where the highest ha.ppm es~ of w luch our
Jenee in every kind of writing, and in every depart~
nature is susceptible, . may be enjoyed, m<lependently
ment of civil and military life, were remarkably attenof the common sorrows and misfortunes of life. The
tive to the education of their children ; insomuch, that
enlarrred and enlightened views it gives of the world
they began their education almost with their birth.
at.. la~ge, justly entitle it to mu~h atten.tion ; and go
In Sparta, children were taken from their parents at
very far to supply those imperfect1_ous which every one
a very early period of their. age, and educated at th~
in a state of nature must necessanly feel.
pnhlic expense; and a celebrnted Roman writer ad·
Antit71r: sis . Ilut nothing 11·ill show the advant~ge~ of eduvised those parents who destined thei r children for
cation in a stronger light, than a contrast ~1th the dispublic speakers, to choose nurses for them, who have
advantages which arise from the want of it. . A pera good pronunciation .
. ·
son who has been well educated, has the mmd and
Novelty. At the present day we find no less attention paid
body so cultivated and improved, that natural d~fects
to this momentous subject ; although the modes o(
are re111ovet1 and llie beauties of both p la ced Ill so
education adopted by the moderns · differ in many refine a light,' that they strike us with double force;
spects from those which were practised in ancient
, while one who has enjoyed no such advantages has all
times. The strictness of discipline which prevailed
his natural imperfections remaining ; and to .thes~ are
among the Spartans, the Romans, and the Greeks, has . .
. added artificial ones, arising from bad habits. rhe
given place to a milder regimen; but whether this very ·
former engages the attention of those with whom he
strictness, coupled as it was with methodical instruc·
converses, by the good sense h~ shO\~S on every su.btion, had not a beneficial tendency, is a question which :
ject, and the agreeable manner 111 wh1c.h he shows it.
is not yet fully decided .
.
- -~ c
The other disgusts every company . w_h1ch he ente~s,
Universality. But, however the ancients and the modern~
either by his total si_lence and s_tup1d1ty, o~ by the igmay differ in their modes of discipline and instruction;
norance and impertmence of his ob~ervatwn.s . The
the subject of education itself has received from all
one raises himself to the notice of his superwrs, and
nations, and in all ages, that attention which its im·
advances himself to a higher rank in life .. The oth~r
portance demands. Even the savage takes care to in·
is obliged to act an inferior pnrt among his equals •.n
struct his child in hunting, fishing, and those branches
fortune and is sometimes forced to seek shelter for his
of knowledge which are necessary for him.
ignora~ce among the low~st or~ers of mankind.
Locality. Ilut in no country has greater attention been,
Conclus-ion. From these cons1derat1ons, we must rank the
paid to the subject than in this. Here its importan~e '·.
r!,
cause of education among the vital interests of m.an·
is properly estimated ; and on no subject has more ex·
kind.

.. _

----

..........,_-~-------·..- - . _.._..,.,......_...........4·:.:1--- - --...,.......

~ .-w~ .....

214

-- .

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

215

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

Comparison. To extinguish it, would produce a darknea
in the moral world, like that which the annihilation
the s.un would cause in the material ; while every effort
that 1s made to advance and promote it is like remov.
i?g a cloud from the sky, and giving fre~ passage to the
light "which freely lighteth all things."
-".

. 2. The meaning of the subject, the attribute, and the
object, (See grammar, introduction to syntax,) must be acfjurntely determined,' so that the proposition may be stated
' the most intelligible manner.
3. The argume11ts which are introduced must be so aranged, that those which precede shall throw light on those
which are to follow, a11d form a co1111cctc<l chai n of comarisons; by which, ultimately, the agreement or disagreement expressed iu the propositions shall be made manifest.
4. All objections which may be raised against the proposition must be candidly and · explicitly stated and an"awered.""
5. The proof may be concluded with a recapitulation,
ntaining a brief review of the united strength of all the
guments which have been brought to confirm it.

EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE,

The .following subjects are suggested for the exercise! o ,
tlte pupzl; but any other may now be taken in connexiOll
wit!t the remarks wlticlt have been premised.
· ,,
On Goverment.
On Travelling.
·
On War.
On Poetry.
Peace.
On Painting.
Youth.
On Music.
Old age.
On Commerce.
Friendship.
On Gaming.
On Ilooks.
Philosophy.
On Gratitude.
On Benevolence.

LESSON L:VII.
COMPLEX THEMES.

A sin:1ple ~heme describes some subject generally ex•

press~d m a srngle word, term, or phrase; and, as has been
seen_ ~n the last Lesson, embraces a view of its properties, .

qualities, and effects. A complex theme is a proposition
o_r assertion, which relates to a simple suhject; an exhcirta!
hon to pra_ctise some particular virtue or action, or to avoid
some particular vice or deed; or, it is the proving of some
truth.
. The directions relating to the study of the subject in
s1mp_le themes (see pages 209, 210) are to be regarded in .·
relat10n to complex subjects. In addition to these direc- '
tions, the following special rules must be observed :
·
I. No assertions must be made in the exercise but such
as are generally receive<) and lielieved to he true; unleu
they ar~ accompanied with proper proof. This proof must•,
be fu!mshed either by the senses; by consciousness; .,b7 .
experience; by undeniable truths, such as axioms and intu·
it~ve propositions; by analogy (see Lesson XXXIV., page
L ..3); by facts already proved; or by the undeviating laws •:
of nature.

.- T

Tlie following directions may guide t!te beginner in writ-

ing complex tltemes.

1. Commence the exercise by defining 'or explaining the
aubject of the assertion.
2. If it ha1·e auy opposite, it may Le <lefiued au<l explained, and the one compared with the other by an antithesis.
3. Give some reasons drawn from the antithesis why
what is asserted with regard to the subject, is not true in
,relation to its opposite.
. .4. Additional reasons, drawn from the nature of the sub)ect, such as its permanency, immutability, effects on societ71 on ourselves, &c., may then be adduced.
· 5. Introduce some quotation from a respectable author,
IO show that others think as we do on the subject.
.: : . 6. Give some example of the truth of the proposition,
drawn from history.
7. Draw the conclusion wherein the truth of the propoaition is asserted as a necessary inference from what has
been advanced.
· S. A simile, or comparison, may frequently be used at
the close, by which an argument drawn from analogy may
be'given with good effect.

. Tlir.sc directions may be varied, as occasion requires in

·· IA~ following manner:
_

• It frequently has a good effect to stale and answer the objections to
proposition or truth first; and then to adduce the arguments in favor of
!&;' reserving the strongest for the last.

I

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216

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

217

Afier the theme, or truth, is laid down, the proof COio
. temptations to the contrary. This conduct is so consisting of the following parts, mny proceed as follows:'
. sonnnt to the light of reason, so agreeable to our moral
I. The rnoros1'l'lON, or NAHHATJVE; where we show tbl
sentiments, and produces so much satisfaction and
meaning of the theme by amplifying, paraphrasing (see i,,.
. content of mind, that it may be said to carry its own
son XLJX., page IU5), or explaining it more al large. '' ,
• reward along with it, eve n if unattended by that rec2. The nEASON; where we prove the truth of the theme
ompense which it generally meets in this world.
'
eason. The reason of this seems to lie in the very nature
by some reason or argumc11t.
3. The CONFinMATlON; where we show the unreason..
' of things. The all-wise and benevol e nt Author of nableness of the contrary opinion; or, if we cannot do tha~
.. lure h as so fram ed the soul of man, that he cannot but
we try to bring some other reason in support of it.
·
approve of virtue; and has annexed to the practice of
4. The SIMILE, or COMPARISON; where we bring in some'
it an inward satisfaction and happiness, that mankind.
thing in nature or art, similar to what is aflirmcd in the ·
· may be encou raged to become Yirtuous.
them e , fur iflu3trating the truth of it.
Confirnwliun . If iL we re not :;o, - if virluc were accom5 . The EXAMPLE; where we brin g instances from histo.;;:_~Ei~' panied with 110 sc )f: s;1tis foct.io11 , 110 licart-fl: lt joy, we
ry to corroborate the truth of our theme.
should 11ot 011 ly he di ~co 1ir;1gccJ fr o m tl1 c practice of it,
but slivul J be tc111ptcJ to thi11k tli crc was somcthillg
6. The TESTIMONY, or QUOTATION; where we bring in proverbial sente nces, or passages from good authors, to very wrong in the laws of 11aturc, allll that rewards
sho w that o thers think as we do.
·
nnrl p1111i,lr111c11ts were 11ot prop erl y a<lmi11istcrccl Ly
7. The CONCLUSION ; when we sum up the whole, and
Provid e nce.
show the practical use of the theme, by concludin!T
~ith
Simile.
llut as in the works of nature and art, whatever
0
some pertinent observations.
is reallv beautiful is generallv use ful; so in the 1110ral
with regard to these particulars, it may be observed,
world' 'whatever is virtuous
praiseworthy is at the
that it is not necessary that all should enter into the plaa .
same time so beneficial to society, that it generally
of every exercise ; nor is it expedient that they should in
meets with a suitable re compense.
all cases be taken in the order here presented. The J.e:
~xample. How has the approbation of all subsequent ages
mark that was made under L essons LIU . and LVI.,· ~ .
rewarded the virtue of Scipio. That young warrior
here repeated; namely, that the judgment of the pupil,
. had taken a beautiful captive, with whose charms he
being a faculty as susceptible of improvement as any other,
: . · was greatly enamored ; hut, finding that she was bell]Ust be exercised . As the examples for practice in thia
trothed to a young nobleman of her own country, he,
and the previous lessons, will require a vigorous exertion
without hesitation, generously delivered her up to him.
of. the intellectual powers, aud more especially of the fac•
This one virtuous action of the noble Roman youth
ulty of invention, it may be advisable to give the pupil but
has rendered him more illustrious i:.han all his cono.ne pa.rt of the subject at a time; requiring him to write &
• · quests.
Testimony. The lov eliness of virtue has been the cons.1mple ?r complex th ~ me by degrees, and making each par~
t1cular 111 the precedmg en umerations the subject of a di&slant topic of all morali sts, both ancient and modern .
tinct exercise.
He may then be required to write the
' " Plato beautifully remarks, that if virtue were to assume
whole connectedly; and thus, in the language of Dr. Joh~
a human form, the whole world would be in Jove with
son, Divide - and conquer,
.
it.
· Conclusion. If, there fore, virtue is of itself so lovely; if it
· is accompanied with the greatest earthly happiness, MODEL.
' 'a . consciousness of acting ri ghtly, - it may be said to
Virtue is its own R eward.
•' > be its own reward ; for, though it is not denied that
Proposition. Virtue may be defined to be, doing our du.
· ~ ..virtue is frequently attended with crosses and misfor' tunes in this life, and that there is something of self•.
ty to God and our neighbour, in opposition to &II

or

19

...................___ ~

218

219

•w -hints, thrown into the form of heads, he may be ref111ired to write from an outline or skeleton, composed
lhea~ heads ; as is exemplified in the following

denial in the very idea of it j yet, as the poet
es it,
"'fhe broadest mirth unfeeling folly wears,
Ts-Losa pleasing for than virtue's very tears."

MODEL.

On tlte importance of a well-spent Yout!t.

,_f '

Tlte following suf.?jects are suggested for the practice {
t!te student in complex themes.
,
:
Delays are dangerous.
Order is of universal importance.
No art can be acquired without rules.
Evil communications corrupt good manners.
None am completely happy.
Perseverance accomplishes all things.
Patience removes mountains.
Nip sin in the bud.
Trust not to appearances.
Make no more haste than good speed.
·
Use pleasures moderately, and they will last the longer. '1
A void extremes.
Too much familiarity commonly breeds contempt.
'T is ill playing with edged tools.
Well begun is half done.
Necessity is the mother of invention.
Real knowledge can be acquired only by slow decrrees.
0
Pride is the bane of happiness.
·
Custom is second nature.
Honesty is the best policy.
A man is known by his company.
Pride must have a fall.
Learning is better than houses and lands.
Time is money.

· LESSON LVIII.
F:ASY ESSAVS.

After th~ student has had some practice in writing on
subjects, ac~ording to th_e r!irections in the preceding lessons, forsakmg the artificial arrangement of hil
composition, and guided in his train of thought only by a
~egular

. - . . - . a ... - -- - - -- -- -- - -

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

EXAMPLES FOil PRACTICE.

·--·-~ . ... _~-

OUTLINE.

; I. All desire to arrive at old age; but few think of ac41uiring those virtues which alone can make it happy.
2. The life of man a building; youth the foundation.
3. All the later stages of life depend upon the good use
. made of the former.
.4. Age, therefore, requires a well-spent youth to render
• ~happy.
,-,T/ie student will observe, tltat in introducing tltese lteads or
111ggestions, tlte expressions are altered (see Lesson XXVI.,
p_age 84), and t!te ideas are amplified or paraphrased (see
Lesson XLIX, page 165). In pe1forming !tis own exer·ti1es, tltenifore, lte will vary, amplify, and paraphrase tlte
·
· Mads accordingly.
THE THEME FO U NDED ON THE ABOVE.

[The numbers in the following, refer to the preceding
heads.]
(1.) A desire to live long is the fervent wish of all the
human species. The Eastern monarchs, who wanted to
make all human happiness centre in themselves, were saluted with the flattering exclamation, 0 king, live for ever!
Thus all propose to themselves a long life, and hope their
age will be attended with tranquillity and comfort; but
(ew consider that a happy old age depends entirely upon
lhe use we have made of our time, and the habits we have
"rmed, when young. If we have been profligate, dissipated, and insignificant in our earlier years, it is almost impos1ible we should have any importance with others, or satisfaction to ourselves, in age.
, - (2.) The life of man is a building. Youth is to lay the
fou11<lation of knowledge, habits, and disposition; upon
which, middle life and age must finish the structure; and
in moral as in material architecture, no good edifice can be
raised upon a faulty foundation.
·
(3.) This will admit of further illustration in every scene
life through which we pass. The children who have

. of

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220

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

221

not obtained such a knowledge of the first rudiments
y giving up our own opinion, and submitting to physicians
learning in their infancy as they ought to h(lVC done 3·
and teachers.
held in contempt by boys or girls who have playetl' le
6. The bee, an excellent example of the utility of obeand learned more. The youth who misspends his time
ence to superiors.
and neglects his improvement at school, is despised, at th~ .
'l'lte student s!tould be i1!formed t!tat bees arc governed by
higher seminaries of learning, by those who have be
e w!to is generally called t!te queen bee; and tltat all who
more industrious at school. The man of business and
not worlc are expelled from t!te !tive.
man of leisure, who have lost the ttolden opportunity of ad.
· k nowledgeb while young, often find.
2. On Diversions.
vancmg
t I1emse1ves m
. . 1. It is a great mistake to suppose that diversion should
themselves degraded for the want of those acquiremehl8
which are the greatest ornaments of human life; and whe
rm the business of life, the contrary to this being true.
age has lost every occasion of advancing in lrnowledge an
.. 2. The original sense of the words relaxation, amuse~--~meut, aud recrealiou, (see Lessun X VIII., puge 48 ,) may
vir!ue, what liappiuess can be expected in it'?
convin ce us of this.
( 4.) The infirmiti es of :1ge want th e reflec t ions of a well.'
spent youth to comfort au<l solace them. ThP-f'e refle~
3. When diversion becomes the business of life , it is no
tious.' and nothing but these, are, by the order of a wise
longer <liversion.
Prov1?en.ce, capable of supporting us iu tlte last stage
4. The poor and the rich must be employed, or be unour p1lgrnnage.
PPY·
Thus, a misspent youth is sure to make either a miser
5. Labor of mind and body is equally necessary for the
ble or a contemptible old age . This has been happily ex'
health of both.
p~·essed by the poet, where, speaking of those who in yout
6. The mind must be in a sound and healthy state, in
give themselves up to the vanitie:i of life, he says;
rdcr to enjoy any kind of diversion.
" See how the world its veterans rewards, 3. On Time.
A youth of folly; an old age of cards."
EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.

~!te stud~nt may now !m·ite a regular tltcme from tltefo~
lowing outlines. He will 1·ccollect t!tat eac!t !tead is to b~
paraphrased, amplified, and variously expressed. (See Lessons XX. and XLIX)
~

1. On tlte Necessity of Submission to Teac!ters.
I. Submission lo teachers and superiors necessary in all
states of li~e, exempli.fied in the cases of the young soldier;
and the patient suflenng under disease.
·
2. :rhe anci~ut Lacedemonians thought submission l<f
supe.nor authonty ~o ne~essary, that they required their'.,
magistrates to submit to smgular customs in token of their
obed iencc to the laws.
'
3. It is~ law of uatu:c, that if we would gain any thitlg -·
we must give up someth111g.
- •
4 .. It is a law of [\ecessity, that part of our liberty musf.
be given up for the preservation of the remainder.
-"
5. If we wish to gain health or knowledge, it must · be

.

Our happiness in this world and the next depends on

a proper use of time.
2. Youth, apt to be deceived in counting upon much fut11re time.
_3. The longest life cannot afford to run in debt with
time, nor burden to-morrow with the business of to-day.
4. Much can be accomplished by an orderly distribution
of time.
4. On JJlodesty.
Modesty, a refined compliment to those we address.
All are friends to the modest, and enemies to the pre1umptoous man.
· 3. Modesty, a proof of good sense.
4. Modesty, the peculiar ornament of the female sex_.

5. On Flattery.
1. Flattery proceeds from some bad design ; and is grat-

•i

ifying only to the pride of the person flattered.
2. Flattery particularly dangerous to youth, as it prevents
their improvement.
19 ..

......

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.

/

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223

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ENGLISH eOMl'OSl'l'lON·

. 3. ~ fl atterer is always to be suspected of some insidioui
mtenhon.

= 4. Good sense and intPgrity , if we are sure we possess
· them, w ill not make good ma1111 e rs unn rcessary; the for. mer being but se ldom called out to action, but th e latter
continually.

222

- ··

--·-

G. On Dress.
1. Dress, a picture of what passes in our mind s.
2. .IJrcss, sorncti1ncs a test o f good sc11sc.
·
3. Dress, a criterion .of our taste in painting and statuary,,
4. Dre~s, (so far as 1t respects . neatne~s and cleanliness,)

11 .

(Jn t!u: f111pnrtancc of a goorl Ch11r11da .

Every man is deeply interested in the character of
those with whom he associates.
of great importance to the first 1mpress10n we make upon
2. · \Vhen we wish to employ a pliy:;ician, a lawyer, a
n.~11 p thers.
;=;ti~·ttadesman, or a scrv:rnt, the firs t. thing we regard is his
i!.r'
7. On Hi~tury.
"'
chnracter.
I. The mo~t u~efnl of hnrmn lrno wlerl.~e dPri1•ed
ii:!!dllE~. 3. Youn~ pMple on g ht. to be doubly careful of their
. l1istury.
chnractcr, as a i':ihe ~l!'p i11 yo11lli 111:1y ~1rlly their 11·liolc 1'112. History ex hibi ts t l1e <liffere11t s tates of society an<l the
ture li l'c.
causes of the m.
'
3. History furnishes important lessons in morality.
·
On the Polly of indulging the Passion of Llnger.
4. The l11story of a state and the history of an individual
1. The abs urd excuse for angry people, a proof of the
perfectly parallel.
folly and crimf' o f anger.
8. On To.s li'..
2. Anger ·when indulged oft An causes people to do the

1. ;aste a~1d .fashion disti!1ct and diffe~ent thin gs.
most ridiculous things.
2. fh e prm c rpl es of fashion are nothmrr but whim
· 3. rassiou;tle people can restrain their <rngcr brfo re their
fa1'.cy; but t_hosc of t~stc a.re bca.uty and pt~portion.
.
superiors; the refore they can always <lo it. . .
.
3 . Taste 1s born mth us, as memory and other faculties ·~~~-- ,1. The te~t of evNy mnn 'R good tewper is lws oehauour
of the mind are.
to his equals and inferiors.

4. The ditferen~ degrees o.f t~s te we find in different per•
sons, are more owmg to cult1vat10n than to nature.

On Parental Ajfection.
l. Parentn l nffcction imphnted by Pro1·i rlcncc
!J.

prese rvation of the species.
2. To God, the refore, the universal Parent, we are
1
de bted for parental affection.
3. Instances of the force of parental affection are innu: *
merable.
·,
4. Parent.al affection shows the duty of filial affection. , ·
5 ..Ingratitude in a child toward a parent the most odioui
of cnmes.

10. On Good Jlfanncrs .
1. Good manners th~ art of mak iug people easy.

.
2. Good mann~rs anse from humility, good nature, and ·
good sense; and ill manners from the opposite qualities. : ·.
3. The former qualiti es ten<l to make people easy, and
the latter, to make them uneasy.
•

13.

On R esignatiun under Aiftictivn .

1. AITTicti on common to every age, state, and degree of
mankind .
2. To nllevinte thic: ;tlllictinn , we ought to reflect how
much more miserable we might be thau ~ve really are.
· 3. The chief source of consolation ou ght to be, that all
'our affiictions are known to God, and appointed by him.
4. Afilictious are either punishments or trials. If the
. former, we ought to repent; if the latter, to bear them with
~esignation .

-

14.

On the Evils of Pride.

1. Tranrp1illity and cheerfulness, where there is no guilt,
arc in the power of e ve ry one.
2. If we are unhappy, and inquire what it is that makes
us so, we shall ge ne rally find it is pride.
3. M en, for their own sakes, ought to avoid this vice,
which naturally produces so many miseries.

-~- --- ~ ··

224

AIDS TO

15. On Politeness and Good-breeding.
I. The first requisite in the behaviour of a gentleman ii,
to act with gentleness; as a forward, boisterous behaviour
is diametrically opposite lo that character. ·
2. l'olitc11css, which signifies a state of being smooth o'r
polished, plainly indicates those manners which we attribute to a gentleman.
3. Good breeding intimates the necessity of early i
struction.
•
4. The true signification of the word politeness, as shown
by its etymology, or derivation, (see Lesson XVIIL, page
48,) evinces the utility of a knowledge of the origin o(
words, in order to comprehend their meaning.

--~

- - - --·-- --

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

-

--

225

In didactic writings, they are the different points of instruction.
h <l'"'
In narrative and descriptive writings, they are t e 111er1nt'ovcnts au<l sce11es which arc successively brought before

,

·a h
> No rules of universal application can be ~iven t_o a1 t e
· :. writer i 11 forming the plan, or mctlwrlizing_ his subject; and
· no two individuals would probably method1ze the same s~b­
ject in the same manner. Room is left for the. exercise
the ingenuity of the student; but the followmg general directions will now be stated.
.
i And, First. Every division should have a d1rec_t an<l o?- fious bearing on the leading purpose of tl~e writer, or, m
other word s, particular attention must be pa1<l to_ the UNITY
. or the subject, and no pa~ticular or head be _mt:oduced
· which is not strictly au<l 111t1mately connecte? "."1th it.
· .Second. The different hea<ls should be d1stmct, one not
' including the other.
.
· 1'/iircl. The heads, or divisions, should be suffic1.e~tly
comprehensive to embrace all that is important pertammg
ti) the subject, and, taken together, should present~ \~·hole.
In illustration of these rules, let us suppose that it_ is prop0sed to write an essay on Filial Duties. The wnt~r deiigns to show, as the object of the_ essay, that ch1ldre.n
ahould render to their parents obedience and love .. His
division is as follows: - Children should render obedience
and love to their parents.
I. Because they are under obligations to their parents for
•· benefits received from them.
.
.
· . !l. Because in this way they secure their own happ1?ess.
. 3, Because God has commanded them to honor their parents.
In this division there is a manifest reference to the. object of the writer. The different hear~s are als~ d1st111ct
from each other, and, taken together, give a suffic1e1~tly fnll
· tiew of the subject. It is in accordance, then, with the
( preceding directions. Let us no\~ suppose that the followmg division had been made: - Children should render love
and ouedience to their parents.
· 1. Because they are under obligations to them for benefits received from them.
2. Because their parents furnish them with food and
clothing.
.
- .
' 3. Because in this way they secure their own happiness.
'
tho min<l.

or

LESSON LIX.
METHODIZING.

After the learner has acquired some degree of skill 10
thinking and writing, and has been taught by the modela
and other directions, to fill up the outlines, it will be a useful exercise for him to ma~e the outlines or skeleton of a·
subject. This exercise, for the want of a better name, ,il
here called met/iodizing; and resembles that part of a re~·
ular discourse, which in common treatises on rhetoric 11'
called tlie division.
l-!aving before his. mind_ the precise object of inquiry, and
having also stated, either m a formal manner or by irnplica·
tion, the proposition to be supported, the writer now should
turn his attention to the formation of his plan; or, in other
words, he should determine in what order and connexion
his thoughts shall be presented. Thus are formed lite lieads
or divisions of a composition. These must correspond in
their nature to the leading design and character of the performance.
.I? argumentative discu~sions, lite !teads are distinct propos1t1ons or arguments, designed to support and establish the
leading proposition.
1
In persuasive writings, t!te lieacls are the different consid·
erations which the writer would place before his readers to
influence their minds, and induce them to adopt the opin·
ions and pursue the course which he recommends.

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226

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COl\IPOSITION.

4. Because there is a satisfaction and peace of cooscience in the discharge of filial duties.
.'
This division is faulty, since the different parts are not
distinct from each other. The second head is include(
under the first, and the fourth under the third.
·
A third division might be made as follows: - Children t
should render obedience and love to their parents.
1. Ilecause they should do what is right.
,
2 . Because in this way they secure their own happiness. , .
3. Because God has commanded them to love their pa- ·
rents.
It may be said of the first part of this division, that il
has no particular reference to the object of the writer. I&
is a truth of general application, and may with equal propriety be assigned in enforcing any other duty, as well 1111
that of filial obedience. It is also implied in the other
heads, since children do what is right, when, in obedience
to God's command, they seek to secure their own happiness. *
There are two methods by which the principle of this
Lesson may be carried out; namely, one, by presenting
merely the heads of an essay; as, for instance, if the subject "Independence" were given to be methodized, the skeJ.,
eton may thus be presented.

3. Different kinds of dependence.
4. Pecuniary dependence the most humiliating of any.
. 5. Pecuniary dependence naturally degrades the mind,
and depraves the heart.
6. Young people ought to be particularly careful to avoid
. ~cuniary dependence.

SKELETON.

I.
2.
3.
4.
G.

The meaning of independence.
Its effects upon the character.
Its effects upon society.
The different kinds of independence.
The dille re11ce l.ietweeu i11dcpe11<le11ce an<l obstinacy.

Another method is presented in the following
MODEL.

On D ependence.
I. All created beings dependent.
2. The influence of a sense of dependence, on
duty, favorable.
" The qu estion may ari se, says Mr. Newman, from whose valuable trea•
tise on Rhetoric the above directions are principally de rived , ls it of im•
portance di stinc tl y to s tate the plan which is pursued in tre ating any aub~e c t 1 To this question he replies, that in th e tre atm e nt of intricate eubJects, where there are many divisions, and where it is of importance that
the order and connexion of each part should be carefully observed, to state

227

EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE.

Tl1e student may now rnetlwdize some of lite following
1ubjects in eit!ter manner described above. He will recollect tltat there are tltree important particulars wlticlt generally require notice in simple sul{jects; namely, 1:HE NATURE,
TUE IMPOlt'l'AN C E, and 'l'llE m ;'FEC'l'S; and in co111pouncl
1ubjects, 'flIE EXPLANATION, THE PROOF, and THE CONFIRMATION.

Benevolence.
Filial affection.
Purity of thought and manners.
Clemency.
Charity.
Power of conscience.
.' Custom.
. , · · Courage.
Cruelty.
· Poverty not disgraceful.
' Superficial attention to a great variety of pursuits prejudicial to the advancement of knowledge.
Contrivance proves design.
.
·Necessity of controlling the passions.
The · co11sel1ue11ces of a perfect freedom of act10n, unrc1trai11ed by law or conscience.
Local attachment.
Magnificence of the ·universe.
: ·The art of printing.
·' The probable state of the world al the present time, had
letters never been invented.
~ The consequence of perseverance in error.
' 'Innocence is the softest pillow.
the divisions is the better course. But it is far from being essential.
Though we ne ver should write without forming a di stinct plan for our
own use ye t it may ofte n be best to let others gather this plan from reading our produ ctions. A plan is a species of scaffolding to aid us in erecting the building. When the edifice is finished, we may let the scaffolding
fail.

228

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

ine flax only; -

The ocean.
The air.
The power of association.
The love of praise.
The earth a scene of pleasure and improvement.
Good society improves the mind.*

or

~IGATION.

The principles of the preceding lesson~ having been pra~
tised with special reference to the effect m~en?ed to be pr<>o
duced by them, namely, to ma_lce t!te P.upil in some deg_r~ :
conscious of t!te resow·ces of lti.s own mind, he may now.
taught to investigate a subjec~, assign ~aus~s, trace effec.ta,,
and draw inferences. Inductive reasonmg mvolves no ppociple which is not clearly intelligible, and eas ily practi,Bed
at an early age. The facility of the p~ocess ha~ a)reJldJ
been tested in other branches .of educatwn ; and its 1mpor•
tance is so great, that no one can make a. good writer without considerable attention to it.
.
The manner in wh ich it is to be applied in this lesson,
will be better understood by an example than by any .ot.h~
explanation.
Suppose, then, that the teacher proposes to the pupil u
an object of investigation, to discover t!te st~tle of .f!gy_pt,
in respect to govei·nment, science, and art, m t!te tune of
Moses; and the only datum, (or subject of certain knol'{l·
edge,) given him is this single fact, that fine linen existed
in Egypt at that period.
.
.
•.
Now if this subject be given to the pupil, without any
direction as to the manner of conducting the investigation,
it is not probable that he will be able to prosecute it. The
teacher must begin by directing the attention of the learner
to t!te manner in wltic!t linen is produced; - that it ' is an ·
~ffi~ r;t proceeding fr~m some c.aus?; - that li~1e li11cn, that
is, fine compared with other fabrics at that tune, must Jie -.
formed of fine thread ; - that fine thread can be made . Q( .

..

., The teacher will find a more copious list of subjects, from which
Jections may be made, in another part of this volume.

that fine flax must go through various acts
which many wo rkm en are employed, be·
&>re the thread could be made into fine linen.
Again, - the pupil must. be informed that the production
fine flax requires an improved state of agriculture, and
. the raising of many other kinds of grai n, - wheat, barley,
&c., - to support the cultivators of flax, and the artists
who form it into cloth. In no country can flax be the sole
article of cultivation. It may, then, certainly be inferred,
that, in the time of Moses, the art of agricu lture, and the
arts connected with it had, arrived at considerable perfection.
Returning again to the datum, fine linen can· be woven
only in a fine loom, which must be accommodated to the
" fine texture of the threads; and a fine loom cannot . be·
made without much skill in the arts of working wood and·
metal. The latter is extracted, with great labor, from ores, .
dug from the bowels of the earth, and must undergo many·
diffic.ult and laborious processes before it becomes mallea• ble. The former, also, must undergo much preparation,
. before it can go into the hands of the carpenter; the loom
· itself is a complex machine, and proves great skill and
progress of the mechanical arts in Egypt at the time of'
Moses.
. Again, the weaving of fine lin en supposes that artists, by
imitation and example, have acquired ski ll and dexterity in·
that art; and such perfection cannot be expected in any
country' till a division of labo r - the greatest instrument
. of improvement in all the arts - be in some degree est ab-.
lished.
The skilful weaver must be wholly occupied in making
fine linen; and, therefore, there must exist many other artists employed in providing food, clothes, and lodging, the necessaries and conveniences of life.
· Defore the arts cou ld have made such progress in any
country , men must have acquired much knowledge of facts
·and events, by observation and experience. : and have laid
the · foundation of general kno1,.rledge, by speculating on
means of improving the arts; on removing the obstacles
which rnlard the ir progrcsf<, a11d in opc11i11g up prospects of'
higher degrees of perfoctio11.
· Farth e r, without taking up time to follow the natural and
connected progress of the arts from their rude to their
more perfect state, - this p1'ocess of investigation may be
conclud ed, with observing that there can be littl e progress .

or preparation, in

LESSON LX.

,e.

229

20

230

231

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

either in art or science in any country, without the exiJi;
ence of a supreme controlling power, in some or other · ..
its forms; by which men are compelled to live in peace
and tranquillity, and the different orders of society arc proo~­
vented from encroaching on each other, by every individual·
being kept in his proper station. No arts or division
labor, - no fine linen or fine workmanship of any kind
can be found in those nations which live in continual wa
fare, either among themselves, or with their neighbour .
Thus, by such a continued chain of regular and progre
sive deductions, proceeding from the datum with which i,
hegan, and without information from any other quarter, w
have suflicient reason to believe, that, at the time of Mose11 .
Egypt was a great and populous country; that the arts and
sciences had made considerable progress, and that gover~
ment and laws were established.
By presenting such connect€d chains of reasoning to the
mind of the pnpil, he will readily perceive the connexio ·
of the facts, and be prepared to apply a similar process
other subjects of investigation.

hut, little better than those formed by sagacious animals.
he skins of beasts taken in hunting form the clothing of
the savage. The females of such nations are almost unitersally treated as slaves, having the most severe portion of
the labor assigned for their performance.
·.; Wl~at a different picture did Pompeii present from the
~wellmg of a_ savage, when overwhelmed by the burning
~ lava, and buried for so many aaes in oblivion ! A barber's
bop, with implements for dress~1g hair, argues an impro\•ed
late of the arts. In the first place, the principal art learnby the ancients was war. Now their passion for this
"!lust have subsided in some degree, and a pacific disposi~- lion l_iave pervaded the inhabitants of Pompeii, ere their
. at~ention would ha~e bee~ directed to improvement in any
thmg else. A wise legislator would likewise · have been
r~quired to fra_me . lawR, and m~gistrates to administer jus- llce by enforcmg them. Aga111, a state of undisturbed
peace must always continue some length of time, in order
.Uiat the scie11ces may flourish ; as political commotions,
whenever they exist, usually occupy the first place in the
miiids of a nation. Distinct and separate trades must have
,had existence in Pompeii ; otherwise, there would have
J>een no such thing as a barber's shop. Doubtless there
. !fere a great variety of trades, as that of a barber is one of
~ the least useful. In or<l~r to the erection of a shop, farmers
.,. ~ould be needed ~o cult1~ate the earth, that those engaged
In .other occupations might be supported.
Mines must
have been discovered, and their uses determined. Articles
, .of iron must have been made by blacksmiths, after the iron
. had been prepared by those whose business it was. Knives,
and other cutting instr~ments, would require a cutler, after
~he steel had been prepared from iron by another class of
persons. Again, after the timber had been taken from the
: forest and in _some measure prepared, a carpenter would be
needed to build the house. To heat his curling irons, the
barber must have a chimney, which would require a mason;
, and the mason must have bricks and mortar with which to
erect it. The clay of which bricks are made must be
moulded into tl1c proper Hhape, and then burnt till snfliciently hard to be used. The mortar consists of lime sand
and hair. The art of making glass must have been discov:
~red, otherwise the barber's shop would have been ·r ather
" too dark to dress hair with much taste. Glass, besides
Olher · materials, would require a particular kind of sand,

o

MODEL.*

"JIV71en Pompeii was discovered, a barber's shop was found

furnished wit!t materials for dressing !tair. From t!tis ci,.. .
cumstance, w!tat may be inferred wit!t regard to tlte attain·
ments of t!tis city in the arts and sciences ?
Among savage nations we find no distinct trades or occupations. Each person prepares such articles only as ar~
necessary for his own use ;. such as his tenement, his tools,
and his. clothing;. without receiving assistance from others.
Therefore, if the old maxim, " Practice makes perfect," be
true, all work must be very rudely and incompletely finish.ed, as each person would be a learner in every different
article he needed. The principal food of the savage con-, ..
sists of such fruits and vegetables as the earth produces
spontaneously, in addition to what is easily obtained front
the sea and the , forest. His habitation is usually a mer~.
~ This model was writte n by a youug la<ly, a pupil iii oue of the publlct.
schools in this city, under the instruction of the author. The author hu
preferred lo present it as it was written , the unaide d production of a youn1
pupil, in order lo show that the principle of i11vestigation, unfolded m tbil
le•son, can be credifably applied by students at a very early age. Many o(
the models in the previous lessons were also written by pupils, and hatl
been preferred, for similar reasons, lo more finished productions.
·:

...

--------~----· --'- --~-

232

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ENGLISH CONPOSITION.

233

remains of sea shells, and bones of marine anials, have been found buried many feet below the surface
of the ground, at a great distance from the sea, and on the
lop of high 111<J111ita i11s. Doie ~ thi s circu 11 1st:111ce add co11fir111at io11 lo a1 1y fact slated in 1lic bouk uf' (jc11c~1s 1
:2. At t he t11 11 e 1'le ....:ico ins d1sco1crcd, a 1111111hcr of h rsi:i:
mo11u 1n c11h, or pyr:111 1i ds, li11rlt of 111 1b1m 1t !nicks, ce 1 11c11t~d
with morta r, 11·;1s di-co\'crcd i11 dilfcrcnl. p:111s of' the c111111 try. What co11cl 11sio11 can lie draw11 fr0111 tl rc."C rc1n:1111s
?f 111di :111 worlu11a11sl 1i p respecting tire civilizatio11 of 1'i<:xICO at ti re trrrre 11. 11·a,; d i.-1:orcr<'d?
3. The 11ortl111'(;stcrn p: rrt of' AnH:r ica is s0parated fro111
lhc 11ortl1c :rsff' r11 p:1rt of As ia hy a 11arrnw st rait, 11 li1ch , accord111 !.[ 1.o I 11d 1:1n lr :1 d 1t11i11, 11·a.' onc1; li1rdalil <' al. low 11-:1tn .
Will this c1ff.11 1nsta11cc thro\\' any light 011 tl11: 111;rn11er 111
which A111rr1c:1 \\':rs l"""l,J,,d '!
4. \Vliat 11 w t:rl 1s 111w't sr·n·iccahle to 111a11ki11d ?
G. How crnild tire var1rrn s 1\'a11ts a 11 d 11~'c"s:;itif's of 111a11ki11d lie s111 •1ili"d, rt' si:old :r1rd orl\'r;r, 11'11ich for111 the nrorwy
of 1110-;t 11a11" 11s, l1:1rl 1H·1·1·r li cr·11 dr>cn1·f'n•d 1
ti. ll01\' c:111 the 11t·c1·s,111· "f tlw dilfrrc11I cla""e5 of :'Ucicty hr: ,-! 11 J1rn 1
i. \V l1at a rt , 11 1anuhctu r", or J>roi\.'s'io11, is 11 10."l s1·niceahle lo 11 1a11l<i11d 1
S. \Vliat 111 a1111Ltct11rc 11 :r s prohaLlr tire lire'( pcrl~•ri11cd
by lll:tl rki11d I
.
D. lJ1J11· 11 .'t' laird c1rl1i1 :rled l cliirf' tlr<' d1scr.\'<'J'\" of 11011 I
10. \\'Jril'Ji i-; the IWll'l' c1•1·1 icc;rlile (o lllallki11d, .t ire Jin;r(s,
sh ips, a11d otl1<T l' esseh , i11tc11dcrl for the water, or tlrose
vehicles dc.-ig 111 •d for the l:111d I
11. or\\ lr:rl ;nticl1:' ol' IU.\111'\' or C<lli\f'llic11cc slwrrld
we 1101\' lw dest itu te , i f tire 111ar i-11er's curr rpass had ncrcr
been i 11 vc u te d '!
12. \ Vlrat co rn fr1rts or c u11 ve 111 c11 ces !rave bee n ad d ed to
~ the sum of l1111n a 11 e 11j oyme 11t , by t he discorc ry of tire ar t
_ of maki11 g- !.[ lass?
13. \V hat 111a y be learn ed o f t he st at e o f G reece, and ot'
.__tho char acte r o f tlra t nati on al. tir e ti 111 e 1r li P11 I lo111 cr 1notc
-- the I liad, ll'itho11t dr: I\\ i11 g 111l(m11at ion fro 11 1 a11 y ol li cr
'' source tklll fr om t he I li :rd i1 sc lf'?
F.XA~ll'LES FOlt PRACT1 c 1·: .
·, . 1.4. \ Vhat wa s the sta te o f the Il ig liland s o f Scotla nd as
.
, s t 1u1en t 11m1111g
1
• •
l1rr11 tr111g nf
1
~~~ .md1cateJ by the poe ms o f Oss ian? A re th e re an y m ark s
T
11.11 t111 c pn·ccr1mg
_ or.
obscr- .......,,.,.~
vnlinns, in co1111cTinn.•pit!t the morlcl, to trr11·r n cause
mt 1iese poe ms of a late r o rigin than t hat g e ne rally ns ~i g11 ed
to them?

and - pearl-ash. Pearl-ash requires much labor in its
traction from ashes. A <liamou<l must have been obtained
to cut the glass, consequently precious stones must have ·
h te n i11 118.e. Ag ai n : a .t ;lazi ,.r \l'< Jllld l1a1" ' i>cc n llccd ed
to sf't th e gla"s 111 1\'1 r1d<m fra 11 1cs .
For tl 1a t pur pose,
li e would h:1 r c wanted put t_v.
( )11 e of t Ir" lll atr: ri als of
p11tt y is li11 s< :cd oil. T hi s oil 1s ext ra c ted frr, 111 th e seed
of ll ax . 1\ o w it 1s not pr<Jliald c that tl:t x 11·;1.-; c rilt il'atcd
11 1c rc lv fo r it.' ~ c e d ; tli e rc k,re 11·c m ar reas.J11 :1lil y ;o; uppose,
that 11 we 11l tl1ro uuli all t l1 e 1·ariqus ope rnt 101 1s re q11i sit c for
111aki11!.[ it i11to c loth . Ti re 1'>0111 a 11 d \\'l rf'r· I \l:'<'d i11 111 anu·
fa c t11ri11 ;.r clolli, 11111 st hav e Tf'<111i rc d 11111 c li sk il l a11d work•
1na11s l1ip i11 tl1 e arti st , and 111 11clr rr c niu s 111 t l1< • ill\ c11 tor.
A 11d if cl ot It \\'ere mad e fr o m l hx~ 111 1u li t 11 11ot <1bo lie
111 ade fro1n otlr er prod uc t io ns o f tlie e ar tlr ! As 111nics wcrc
crn 11 11in11, a11d 111 .;H 11·pre e n!.[:1.o.;r·d in so 111 :u 1y d1 il'ere11t artb,
it 1s not lik 1~lv t hat t lH:y rc rn ai11cd 11·itho 11 1. tire co 111e11i cnce
of coi ne d 111 ;i11Py, T he cx1 stc 11 cc o f a k 1r l1 f'r's shop also
a r'.[11 e s t ha t balls a nd p11bli c am 11s cm e 11ts \\'r,rr, com 1ncn;
olli c r w1c; r , thrre wou ld h a1· c hrc n 11 () flC<::rs111 11 li1 r a barber;
as 111ust pc rsrnr s, h y s p1·1 11li 11si: a kw 111 01 11 <' 11 1..;, c an d i,poso
o f' t heir lrai r very dcc e 11 tly. Jt als11 a r!.!1 11:s tli ;r t the re we re
a class o f p1; r;o;o11 >< , who , lie i11.!.f posse ssed o f 1rralth , could
spend tlrcir ti1m: i11 p11 rs11i1. nf l'J,;a:;mf'. If' tlrr: 1 :nio1rs mccli :rni c a l art s !ra d arri ve d at s 11 ch a dP!.f r<'r: fl f' pPr fcct ion, is
it 11ot p r<,IJ :il ile that t ire c1J111111CT<' e of l'"111p"ii !rad become
quite ex tr ns11·r I
If so , 1· r.ss rl.; m 11s t h:nf' l1cf'11 f' 1n ployed
to tra11.spo rt a rt iclr:s frrn11 p la cr; to pl ace. F"r !Irr: rn a11 agt>lll e 11t o f vessel s , sn 111 etl1i 11g of na1 i.!.£a t ion :rnd astro no my
11111sl hav e hcen kiJo w11. If' p:.1i 11t w as i11 11sr\ and vessels
we re pai11 t1· d , as 1\' as dn 11 li1]f';:,; t ire c;r.-ce clier11istry must
have bee 11 und erst ood i11 a dcurcP. P1 111 /p1•i1 , t li e rr·tire, et
the 1i111e of its overth row , w as nea rl y as f:ir :r<h:rn cr: d in the
nrts and sc ien c es of civilized lift? , as we now are. Yel ,.
they were in a state of he athe ni sh supe rstiti on , with ou t any -~
correct systclll of morals or relirrion · and crrnq1ar ed with
the Unite d States of Am e rica, :iere' a mise rald e prople, ..:;:
ThiH, th e n, slrrndd excite the gratitude of ev e ry inhabitant ·
ol our happy la11d.

cjfccl, may 11ow investigate the folluwi11g .rn l!}ccls .

1

20 .

234

ENli L IS H CU!1l.l:' USIT!ON .

AIDS TO

form, ;mJ lw 1Yill Le c11aLlcJ lo µr c:;c11l them Ill a
15. What were the causes which pruJuceJ au absolu1a.~..-- 1iiiii-u
goven1111e11t al Rollie u11<le r Augu:;lus ?
·'' ';
l u. \V ha t occas io11 c<l th e co11,;pi racy ol' C;1t ili11c?
;F~-5;::=:
W ha t if: tli n fact?
17. Is th e c hara cter of Hannibal in Li1' )' sn pportcd by
\Yhy j , it , 0 ?
tl1e 11arr;1l1ve he lias giv en of his tran saction s·/
=-=~E==What consequences result from it I
ltl. W hat were tl1c gruu11J:; 11po11 1vl11cl1 tile T rojn
trnsted to Rinnn's acco1111t of the woo<len horse?
An<l with regard to the first point of inquiry, namely,
11
J !). What are the dillicultics which occur in forming a
What is the fact?" lu reply it may be said, -that, in the
standard of taste?
material world, there arc num erous indications of infinite
20. J 11 what sense is poP.try called an imitative art 1
wisdom and benevolence, and of Almighty power.
2 l. \Vha t il re the proofa !i v which llo rn r' T ooke COD•·--'~~- 2. " \\"l1y is it rn?" or, limr is 111' ' e\is t<'ll <.;C ol' tl1<'0C
firms his theory of the origin of prepositions n11d conjuncworks to
ac co1t11ted fo r ? \\ ha t. is t he ca u s<~ I To 1Y h1ch
it may lie rep l1 .,d, th:it lirnl cn~at c d thc111 .
tions i 11 t he E ng lis h !;111 r; nage ·1
22. \Vhat are the standards by which we judge of the
:3. Aga in; " W hat co11scq1t e11 ccs n~sult fro111 it? " To
pe rfect.inn of one language abore ;i11 oth c r 'I
thi s tlie -a11s11cr 111 ay he g il'c11, that - J\Ic11 sho11 ld li1· e llli 11 d'.!;J. W hat arc the causes which render it rliOi c ult for the
ful of God .
~ltHIPnt to 11C<]11ire ft lrnbit of aff P11tio117
' Ilv crnbochi11 g the results of these in quiri es, he will ob24 . \Vha t was the ori gin o f the pre j;C'll t pol iti ca l
tain. t l1c fu l l~i11 ;11 g c1rn c l11,iri11 or point ;1t 11'1 1i d1 he :ii111cd,
in the United S t.ates?
namcly , -J\lc!l 11 ho l1 1c i11 the 111idst of oli.1ccts 11h ic h shuw
fort h th e pcrkct iu11s of the gre at Cre ntor, shou ld live rni 11 dfu l of liirn.
~~,~~: lt is not necessary, that the proposition to be supported
:
should alway s be thus for mally 2tat cd , t ho ng h t bio is n2uci.ily
LESSON LXI.
done in writings of an argumentative nature. Sometimes
it is elegantly imrlied, or left to be inferred from the introON TUE TREATM'ENT OF A SUllJl.!:CT.
ductory remarks.
The first and leading object of attention in every compoo
·It is a common impression with young- writers, that the
sit ion is t o determine th e precise poi 11t of' i11riuiry, - tho- "i!it.:O-- widcr t l 1t~ li<' ld of lll<Jttiry on whic h t hey c11 trr, t he more
propositiou which is to lie JaiJ down a11<l suppurtc<l, or llio_
.aliuHJaut au<l oli>iou,; will be tl1e thouglits, 1>l11cli will oile r
subject which is to he explained or described . Unless the
.themselves for their use. H ence, by selecting some genw 1iter l1a s :;tcat! ily bcrurc hi111 ~< J 111c; fi xed purpose whi ch Ii
era! sul •j'"•·.1 tlwy hope I n "" 1'·111" (·.npi•><isi"icss o r 111allcr :111d
would obtain, or son1e poi11t which he would reach, he wiU
·· thus to fin<l au easie r task. Experience, however, shows
.that the reverse is true, - that, as the field of inquiry is
be liable to go astray, - to lose himself and his readerL
It is not until he has determined on the definite· object that
"narrowed, questions arise more exciting to the mind, and
he proposes to accomplish, that he can know what vieWI
thoughts are suggested of greater value and interest to the
to present, and how to dwell on the different topics he ma7
readers. Suppose, as au illu stration, that a writer proposes
··to himself to write an essay on "Literature." Amidst the
discuss.
Let us suppose, in illustrating the views now to be prenumerous topics which might be treated upon under this
sented, that the thoughts of th e writm have been turned
· term, no unity could be preserved. The thoughts a<lvnnce<l
towards the manifestations of wisdom, goodness, arul power,
woul<l be commonplace and u11i11terestiug. Ilut let some
in the works of creation aroullll him, and he wishes l1i1
distinct inquiry be proposed, or some assertion be ma<le
readers to be mindful of these things. By asking himself
· and supported, and there will be an influx of interesting
the three following questions with regnrd to the train 9(
.. ;thoughts presented in a distinct and connected manner .
'." Instead, therefore, of the general subject "Literature"
'thought in his mind, his ideas will imme<liately assume some

lie

23G

AIDS TO

:237
let us 8uppose a particular sui.ject, nalllelv, a" Defence ot~•I~~
literary stud ies in men ot' bus iness" is proposed . It will~
!the l!lau y wliu hare ucen as Jull a~ tl1ey were proll igate,
be see~1 by the follow iug model l1ow 1<poiila1Jeou~ly, a~ i
d as ignur<1ll l as tl1cy l\'l'IC poor, the fctte is uuk11;;w11,
were, ideas will present themselves, and ivith what ea
from the inf'i,t:;nificatH'e of tlm.'e hy whom it ins enrlmed .
f we 111ay rca su 11 a Jil'iori 011 tl1c 111atler, tlie clia11c(', I
they cau ue arra uged with the strictest regard to Llllity.
~ think, sho11ld lw n11 the side of l1tcr;1tmc.
In yo111w 111111ds
-cc~1!11l'c=- of nny vivacitv, thPre is a n;t111r;il avnsirn1 tu the d~udg(:ry
"'l'lli'--- of ln1.,i1w.'s, '"Ii 1c Ii is s1· ld1 >111 111·prco111f', ti 11 t lir: dli:nesc1·11 r:e
A. 1Jrjincr 1.1/" Litcrar!J St11rlics in Jlw ur
1Jllsi11css.
f )'Olll II I f: :1 II '1.\ CI l IJr t II C progrl:>iS of t 1111e a111 I I1:1 liit' or
:;
0
. Among the c:rntions which prurience and worldly wisdo~·~~~~till thcit very warmth is en l i~t1°d •111 the ~idc of tlteir proff ·..;rn c ulcate on the you !l g, or at le ast among those sober truths·-_..
Bio11 , hv the opt-> 11 i11g prn,peds of' a111hitio11 ur 1-:rnolu111ent.
From tl1is t yr:11111 1-, :1s 1011th Cll 111 ~eiH·s it of atl1·111i1111 a11d
wliicli expcric11ce often pret.e11d s to li:L~· r; aciprircd, is that .·
da11gc~·, wluch is sa1<l to result from the pursuit of ]1;ttcrs
of l:ihor, rcl·H~f is .cu1111;1111ilv s011trlit lro111 'so1 11c i:llonte ;1rna11d ol sc 1c11cc, in men destined for the labors of' bu sines~
cntirlll or :1111r1s1·111f'11l, f«ir 1~·l1i c h'":1 ro1111ir m:i11 1·1tlll'r li11ds
for the actire exertions of' profossioual life. The abstra~
or steals a portion of' Iii' t1111r', c1lher~pali1~ntly plods tliro11gh
tion of learning , tlie speculations of' science, aud the vision·
his t:isk , in c.\pect:iti1n1 of' 11s :1ppro;1ch, or a11ticip:itt·s its
ary ex~ ur s10 ns of fa ncy are fa ta l, it is sa id, to the steady pur-·=
. arrival hy deserting his work liefore tlie legal period for
suit of com mon obJ.ects, to the habi ts of plodd ing industry
amusement is arrired . ll may foirly lie questioned, whether
wh~ch .ord111ary lius1_11ess demands. The fineness of mind
the lllO St i11110Cf'J!I. or tlic"c ;]llll"'Cll!Cnts is eitlil·r so ho11urwluch is created or 111creased hy tire study of fetters, or tho
~ able or so safe :is t.lie arnc:1tio11 o f li:arning or of science.
ad m1ra t10n of the arts, 1s supposed to incapacitate a man " ·~ Of mind s 1111i11for111cd :rnd gross, wlinm youthful spirits
agitate, \111t l'a11ry a11rl fcc li11 g- \1:11c 110 11011 cr tn iml'1·I, tl1e
for the drudgery by which professional Clllineuce is gained; ·
as a mce ly tempered edge, appli cd to a co arse :rnd rngged
am11semc11t n-ill !:'f'llf'r;illr be 1: it l1er \ioistr•ro11s or f'ffrmi11;il0,
mate ri al, 1s unable to perform what a more common instru-.
wil l cithcr dissip;1te their attention, or 11·eakcn tlieir force.
men.t wou_ld have successfully . ac hieved . A youn g ma n,
T he employment of a young man'::; vacaut hours is o f'tcu too
<l ~st m e_<l fo r law or comm erce! 1s adv ised to look onl y into
little atte u<le<l lo uy tho::;e rig id 111aste rs, who exact the most
!us folio of precedents, or !us method of book-keeping,
scru pulous observance of the period<; de::;ti ncd for bu::; iu e::;s,
and duln ess is pointed to his homage, as that benevolent
'1'hc was te of tim e is, undoubtedl y, a ve ry ca lc ulable loss ;
godd ess., un de r whose protection tli e ho nors of ~I Ht ion nnd
but the wnste or the dcpr:tration of mind is a loss of a m11ch
~h e bl essm gs of opulence are to he obtnin ed ; whil e learni ng
higher denomin ation . Th e votary o f ~ tudy, or the e nth u<1 11 d _ ge~uu s are proscr1 ucd, as lc:idrng their votaries to bnr·
siast of f:rncr, 111ay in cur tlie first, liut the latter will lie ~ 1 1 fren rnd1ge n.ce and merited neg lect.
.
fere<l c hiefly .by hi.m whose ig nor ance or want of imag in ation
In doubt.mg the truth of these assertions, I t hin k I shall
has left him to th e gross ness of me re sens ual enjoymen ts.
not entertam any hur~fu_I degree o f skepti c ism, because the
In thi s, as in other respec ts, the love o f letters is fri endly
gener al c urre ~t of oprnron see ms, of late ye ars, to have set
lo sober mann ers and virtuous condu ct, whi c h, in every
profess ion , is the road lo success a11d lo resp ect. \Vitl1ou t
too stro ng ly 111 the co_nt ra ry dir ec t i o~ 1 , and on e may enadopt ing the co1nmoupl ace refl ec tions agai 11st so me partic u? eavour to p rop the fallmg cau se of literature, without bern g accused of bl a mab~e or dangerous partiality.
. ,
·lar departm ents, it mu st be all owed, th at, in mere men of
I_n th e ex ampl ~s _wh1.ch memory and experi ence produce ·
busin ess, th ere is a ce rtain profess ion al rule of rig ht, whi ch
is not alw ays honorabl e , and , thou g h meant to l>c selfish,
? f idle ness , of _<l1ss1pat10n, and of pove rty, broug ht 011 by ,
mdul ge nce of _lite rary or poetical e nthu siasm, the evidence
"very seldom profits A superior education generally cormu ~ t necessarily be_ on on e side o f th e question only. Of ,
' reels this, by openin g t he mind to different motiv es of acthe few whom. le_arnm g or genius has Jed astray, the ill sue- ·,
ion, to th e fe elings of delic acy, the sense of honor, and a
cess or the rum 1s marked by the celebrity of the sufferer,
contempt o f wealth, when ea rned by a desertion of those
principl es.
l'.NGLl::'.II

CO~li' OSlTlON .

238

A I DS TO

ENG Ll S!l COMfOSITlON .

:239

To the i111prov c mc11t of OLlr fa c ulties as we ll as of ou r -.
lighter tr ifles i11 w hi c h he, \\' lto inh e ri te d idleness as li e did
principl e s , th e lo ve o r le tters ap pe a rs to UC fornra blc. Lei.. _.}:
~ fortun e, fro m hi s olll ccs lors , h;1 s lw cn accuslo me!l lo find
amuse me nt. Tli c m ise rie s and rnitd or tunes of t he" retir e d
te rs requ ire a certain sort of application, t ho ugh of a kind, .
perhaps, Ve ry diffe re nt from th a t which business WOU (d :_
- pleasure s" of' n1 e 11 of !Jll~ t ncss, h a1e lJ eell f'1cq uc ntl ) 1\1,t lter
re commend. Granting that they a rc 1111prof11al>l e i11 them• p;c.
of spec 11l.1t1 n n to tl1t! 1n o 1. d 1-l, a n d of 11d1 ct1le to th e 11 it .
se lves , as that word is used in th e la11 g 11agc of th e worl d, ·
But he w ho h;is nn xc d grne ral lu 10\rled gc with prn f!!ssio11;il
ye t, as de vel oping the po wers o f tho ug ht a nd reflection,
' akill, a nd li terar y an11 1se1 11 c11ts wi t h p ro lessio1i<il la bor, will
tl1 e y may UC au amuse m e n t of SOili e u se, as those sports
barn SO ll \8 stock \ I l1e rc1r ith to Sl lj lpo r l liim i11 id le11css,
children, in which numbers are u sed to familiari ze them·
tome sprin g for hr s 111i11d wh e 11 u 11 be 11t fro 1n bmi11 css, rn n1 c
to the e le me nts of arithmetic. They give room for the ex·~: ' employrnc 11 t fo r t hose hours, w hi c h re t ircmc11 t or so lit ude
erci se of that disce rnment, that co mpari so n o r o bjects, that
bas left va ca11t and 11110!:c11pi ed. lrH.l e pende n ce in t ir e use
distinction of causes, which is to incre ase th e s kill of tho
of on e' s ti me is not t he le ast 1·al11abl c species of frce d o111 .
physician, to g uid e t ire s pec ul at ion s o f th e 111 e r c lia11t , and
T hi s liberty t he man of letters (:n joys; 11 hilc the ign o rant
to prompt the argum e nts of tli c lawy e r ; and , t ho ugh some .·
and the ill1 te ralc o !'t1: 11 rc tin! from t he t hr aldo rn of bu s in ess,
pro fess io ns e m ploy but ve ry few fac ulti es of the rni nd, yet. ~only to hcco111c the slo11·cs of languo r, intc111pcra11cc, or rice.
t he re is sc ar ce ly a ny branch o r bus i1 1css i n wh ic h a man
But the s it11a ti o11 in 1rhic h the ad vant ;i g cs of that e11 d o1vwh o c a n thi 11 k wi ll not e xcel him w ho ca 11 0 11l v labo r. We · -'~
me nt of n1i11d, 1rl1 1ch Idlers bestow, are c h iefly co11spicu shall accordin g ly find , in m an y d1~ p a rt111 e 11t s 1~herr~ lea rn ed
ous, is old :1ge , 1rhc11 a 111:rn's socif'ly is necessarily circ11111information seeme d o f a ll qu alities the le as t necessary, th o,t
scri bed, an d h is po1rc rs of act i1·e c11jrJymc11t are u 11 arnirlably
those who possessed it, in a de gr ee abmc t heir fellows,
diminis l1ed . Unl it !(Jr the b11silc of affairs, and t l1c am11scments of' his yo11tlr, an olrl 111 :1!1, ii' lie has 110 so u rce of me11 h a vc fo un d , from tha t very c i rc u111 ~ ta11c c , tire roa d to ernin·
encc nnd wealt h.
tal exertio11 l;r c111ploynH'11t, ortr~11 c;cttles into the gloom of
But I must often re peat, that wealth do es not necessarily~~~ melancholy and peevishness, or ,petnfies his foeliugs l.iy
create happiness, nor confor dignity; a truth which it may
habitual intoxication . From an old man, whose gratificabe thought declamation to insist 011, but which the preseo
•ions were solely derived from those sensual appetites which
time seems particularly to require being told.
· ·
·
time has blunted, or from those trivial amusements of which
The love of lette r;, is connecte d with :m ind e pe ndence
youlh only c an ~hare , age Im;; e nt off almost ~very sonr_ce
of cujoy 111r •11t, l1lll to liinr 11 !11J lia" st o red his n1111rl 11·1tli
nrnl d e li c;icy of rni nrl , w h ich is a grc:1t pre 0 pn·at i1·c aga i n~!
t hat se rvil e hn nrnuc, wh ich ah1cct men p:iy to fortu11e ; and ·
the i111<m11:1lio11 , :t11d c;rn ;-ti ll c11q,Jor it i11 the a11111 ,i; mrn t
there is a c e rtain class ical pridt\ which, fru111 the suviety of
of letters, this blank of life is admirably lili e d up. lle ac ls,
~fo c rate s and Plato, Cicero and Atticus, looks down with
be thiuks, and he fo e ls with that lit e rary world, who ~ c socian honest disdain on the wealth-blown in sects of modern
ety he can at all tim es enjoy. There is , perhaps, no state
times, n e ither enlightened by knowledge, nor ennobled by
more capable of co mfort to ourse lves , or more attractive of
virtue.
-;- teneration from others, than that which such an old age
In the possession, ind~ed , of what he has attained , in that ·
affords; it is tl1P11 the twili g ht of the passions, when they
rest and retirement from his labors , with the hopes of which
ire mitigated, but n ot extin g uish ed, and spread their gentle
his fatigues were lig htene'd and his c a re s were smoothed,:
ioHuence over the evening or our day, in alliance with reathe mere man of business frequ e ntly und e rgoes sufferin~,
son and in amity with virtue.
instead of findi11g errjoyment. 'l'o he h11sy as one ought 11"· ,
,,.
an easy art; hut to know how to be idle is a very superior.
; ltEMAllll8 ANll ANAL YSIS.
In examining the prece1li11g
accomplis hment. This dilliculty is much increased with
etample of argum e ntative writing, our principal object of
persons to whom the habit of employment has mad e some
attention will be, the plan or management of the subject.
active exe rtion n ecessary; who cannot sleep contented in
' •· The introduction consists of an indirect statement of the
:· question to be agitated.
We are told how those have
the torpor of indolence, or amuse themselves with thoser

or

)

240

AIDS TO

thought and reasoned, whose opinions are opposed to t~
opinions of the writer. This statement is d_istinct!y, ao4
fairly, and s kilfully made . Our lite rary taste ~s gratified bJ ·
the illustrations and ornaments of l'ang uage which are found;
Our curiosity is roused, and we are rea<ly to enter with i~
terest on the proposed investigation. It s hould be noticed;
that there is no formal staterne11t of the proposition whicti
is to be supported, but that it is clearly and happily impli~
in the introductory paragraphs.
After the introduction , follows the refutation of an ohjee,
tion. Th at this is the proper place for considering the oho. :
jection stated is evident, s ince, had it been unnoticed, or
its re futation de ferred to the close of the essay, the mind1
of readers might have been prevented by its i11lluence frolll
giving due weight to the arguments adduced. There are
two mod es of refuting objections; one, by denying the
pre mises from which a conclusion is drawn, - the other,
by showing that the conclusion does not truly follow from
the prernises . The ohj<!ction he re cons id ered is, that facta
esta blish the opposite of the opinion advanced by the wri. ·
ter; of course, the opinion can have no good foundation.
To refute the objection, the premise is <le11ie<l. Facts are ·
othe rwise, says the writer, an<l a satisfactory reason is assicrned, why a different impression as to th e bearing of facll
01~ the case, has prevaile d. Having assigned this reason;1
the writer leaves the point at issue , as to facts in the case, ~
to be determined by the observation and the good sense or
his readers. H av ing thus introduced his subject to _ourJ.
attention, stating by implication the proposition to lie ex-.
ami11c<l, and having re rnovecl a11 objection which prcscnlc~
it.self at the threshold, the writer 11ow enters 011 lhc direct
examination of his subject.
The following proposition is supported : Men of bu siness:
may advantageously devote a portion of the ir time to literarf.
pursuits.
I st A rgu.ment. Young men of business should engage in
liter ary studies, since, in them is found a pl easa nt relaxation.
and security against hurtful indulgences.
_
'2d A rgu.ment. Young men of business should engage in ·
literary studies, because in this way they acquire a refine- , ;
ment and exaltation of mind, which raises them abov6 ·
grovelling and selfish principles and conduct.
3rl Argument. Young men of bu siness should engage in ,
literary stu<lies, because the cultivation of letters is favorable
to the improvement of the mind .

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

241

.:4th Argun~ent. A ma!1 of. business shonl_d enga~e in
literary pursuits, because 111 tlHs way he acqu1res an mdependence of feeling, which prepares him to enjoy his
wealth: Without cultivation of mind and literary taste,
&be retirem e nt of the man of wealth is wearisome and dis. gullting to him.
• Gt/1 Arg ument. Men of busin ess should cultivate le tters
&bat t~1e~ may find in them grateful employment for old age'.
. Tlus 1s the plan. Upon examination, we find that it
. confo:~s to the genera!" directions given. The several heads
are d1stmct from each other. They have a similar bearincr
· on the lea<lin g proposition to be supported, aml, taken to~
gcther, they give a unity to the subject.
'fhe kind of argument here used, is the a rgum ent from
cause to effect. Different reason s are stated, which account
for and support the asse rtion that is made, and which forms
the leading proposition . Let us now take a nearer view of
these different argu ments, and see ir. what way they are
supported. Under th9 first argument, the reasoning is as
i>llows: I. Young men in business will have r elaxation
-.nd amusement. 2. Unless those of a salutary kind are
. provided, they will fall into such as are hurtful. Hence
the. importa~ce of the ir being directed to literary pursuits,
which may mterest and be nefit them. It may be asked, on
what authority do th ese assertions of the writer rest 7 How
. do we know, that young men thus will liave relaxation and
amusement 7 and that, unless those of a salutary kind are ·
provided, they will fall into such as are hurtful 7 I answer
that these assertions rest on the common observation and
experience or men . Hence the writer takes it for granted
• lb at those whom he a<lJrcsscs will yield th e ir assen t to hisI
· premises,_ an<l, consequently, if his conclusion is correctly
~rawn, will ~clmowledge the validity of hi s argument.
. In .an.alyzrng the sec_ond argument, the inquiry arises,
How is 1t known, that lite rary studies give refinement and
elevat.ion to the min<l, raisin& it above i:nean and grovelling
pursuits 7 Here the appeal 1s to consc10usness. Men whobave thus cultiva_ted their intellectual powers, are conscious,
when they look rn _upon the operations of their own minds,
that th~se salutary mlluences have been exerted upon them.
~he tlmd argument, which asserts that the love of letters
. • favo~ahl_e to the culti1•nt_ion of the intellectual powers,
'!'Bis prmc1p ally upon experience and observation. There
• .also found an illustration, which is of an analogical kind.
21

242

AIDS TO

It is where the writer refers to the sports of children, which
familiarize them with the elements of arithmetic. 'fhja ·
argument from analogy may be regarded as an appeal 'to.
the common i::ense of the renders . The remaining argtt•
ments rest in like manner on appeals to experience, obsell'
vation common sense, and consciousness, and it is 'no\:
neces;ary to analyze them. The student, in. the anal~ail
which has been made, has had an opportumty of seems
some of the grounds on which assertions and reasoninp
are founded.

LESSON LXII.
GlmERALIZATION OF A SUl3.JECT.

Generalization is the act of extending from particulars to
generals or the act of makincr general.
,
In th~ treatment of all s;bjects, there is a tendency in
young writers to dwell .too much on .iso l ~ted particul~ra,
without reference to their general application. The object
of all investigations, whether literary, physical, or intelleeo
tual, and the purport of all inquiries should be, the estnbo
Jishment of general principles; and every thought, which
may tend to their elucidation, and every idea which may
contribute to their discovery, must be reckoned among the
most valuable of all literary labors. Hence, the efforts o(
the student should he directed towards the attainment of so
valuable an end, and in the training of his min<l on the part 1'
of the teacher, there should always be a distinct reference''
to this consideration.
In the study, therefore, w·hich the writer should ahva7i .
employ in his preparation fo~ hi~ work! it sh?u ld ~e his ~im
to discover some general principle, with which his subject
is directly or remotely connected, and endeavour to follow ;
out that principle in all its consequen~es, - to sh?w ~ow. !
his subject affects, or is affected, by this general pr111c1ple;.
and how that principle influences the interests of learnin(
and science, or contributes to the well ·being of society, .
and the moral, physical, and intellectual condition of the .
worl<l. Let us suppose, for instance, that the teacher bu
assigned to a class in composition, Trut!t, as the subject oCi· c
a theme. The young writer, who is too much in haste to.·

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

243

lnish his task, would, perhaps, commence his exercise with
tome hackneyed observations on its importance, and dwell
'with considerable prolixity on its influence on a particular
dividual.
~; Individual instances, it is true, may have their influence
In,establishing the importance, or illustrating the effects of
a'general principle, but to confine an exercise upon a gen.1eral subject to individual instances, is to present but narrow
1jews of its importance. So far as the example introduced
into the exercise of the student may serve to show the importance of a general principle, that example may be valuabl~, but it should by no means form the body of his work.
It may be introduced into the exercise, as an illustration,
· or ns a subsidiary portion of his labor, but it should not
be dwelt upon to the exclus ion of the principle which it is
~esigned to illustrate.
Thus, in the subject to which reference has already been made, namely, "Truth," the wellknown story of Petrarch may incidentally be mentioned, to
ahow the dignity w~ich attends the strictest observance of
· Yeracity; but, an exhib ition of the effects on society in general of the presence or absence of the subject itself would
be a more useful and, of course, a more valuable mode of
considering the subject, than any attempts to show its im- '']>ortance in individual cases. It should be the constant
endeavour of the teacher to lead the student to the con-' aideration of causes and effects, their operations and their
. tendencies, and by the method of reasoning from particu• lars to generals, to show how general truths are inferred
i from particular instances, and general principles are established by the consideration of the effects of particular
causes.
·
· 'fhe student who is thus led to perceive the general bear!ngs of a subject will not take partial views, - he will go
out into the world, - on board ship,- into factories and
;~lher large establishments, and view the operations of gen. eral principles; will have the sphere of intellectual vision
~n.larged, and insensibly acquire a comprehensiveness of
m'ental perception, which will release him from the shackles
•Of a narrow education, and enable him to take in, as it were,
at a glance, the grand theatre of the moral world, with all
1
· !he stupendous machinery by which the changes in its
~.enery are effected.
. •' As an exercise in generalization, the student may fill out

I

244

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

245

some one or more of the following models
presented.

the victors; the estimation in which these honors were held;
the effects of these games upon the victors, and upon the
·- nation to which th ey belonged , by enco ura g in g athletic exMoDF.L 1. Time. Definition of; its divisions; mode Of
_-: orcises, an<l a spirit of c111ulatio11 ; Did the e nco uragement
mark in~ them; mode of asccrtai11i11g; meridian ; tho sun·j
~ of phy~ical exert.ion influ c11cc lit e rary or intell ectua l effort
parallel between time and space; fi11itc a11d infinite.
~·:.. . .
~r the better o r the worse? the probabl e effects of the in·
2. The Feutlal System. Its nature and origin, including
1titut io11 of si111ilar garnes at the present day .
a clear dcfi11ilio11 or the 111ca11ing of the term; lhc co u11tries _.,,. "
. ·- s. The G recian Or acl es. 'Vhat they 1rerc; where situwhere it exi sted; the relatiom which it caused among the_'
..:_ aled; by who111, and 011 what occasions, were they coninhabitants of a feudal country; its effects upon the moral~ ­
sulted; the s up erstition s which they e uco uraged ; t heir
and the happiuess of the respective nation s where it existed ; :
robable nature; their effe cts upon the rel igious clrnractcr
the virtues and vices which it eucouragcd and e ugendered,
-of
the people ; their duration ; probable cause of tl1eir falling
and a cons id eration of the causes of its gradua l overthrow,
into disuse; the wisdom of Pro vidence in co11cPaliug from
3. The Grecian Lawgivers, Draco, Solon , and LycurguH:
mankind the kn o wl edge of future events; fatalism.
The diflerent character of their res pective law s ; the effect

which they produ ced Oil the people ; their duration, and the
Tlie following suljcr:ts nrc s11g,t.;1·strrl fo r the unairlerl rjforts
probable cause of' their alteration and abrogatio11 ; the con· _
of t!tc student.
set1ue11ces whi c h they produ ced ; and th e ir c01 11parative
!). The Hc lc> rmati on.
cllects o n the morals and happiness of th e pcople.
JO. T he l 11vc nt. io11 of' thc A rt of Pri11ti11g.
1. TIH~ Crn ~ adr·s . vVhat wen~ they? their tJl1ject ;
11. The l11rentio11 of the .l\Liriner's Compas8 .
manner in which they ori gi nated; the superstitions to which
12. The Te lescope .
they gave rise ; their effect on th e religiou, rna1rners, and -=i§l~cc·
morals of the age ; the vices and profligacy which they en·
gend e red; their influence on the moral condition of tho
world, a nd the balance of po1rc r in Eurnpt!; tl1c sac riftccs -,.....;.a..,~
LESSON LXIII.
of bl oo d and tr c:tsure which th ey occasio11ed; the bc11cfita
!'01·'.TJ>, \' AND Vl·'. ltc;WICA 'J'I ON .
which they have 1>rodu ced .
5 . C hivalry. What was it. 'I g i1 c a c lear rldi11itio11 or
description of it; how it arose; the rnanncr in which can·
Poetry may prope rl y I.J c dc1i11cd t he language of the inrngination. Its usual form is in verse, 1• a nd it is sometim es, and indeed
Jidates were admitted to its orders; the mos t c n1in ent of ita
most generall y, ad orned with rl1y111c. D ut true po etry consists
orders; the effec ts of the inst it uti on on th e 111orals and
in the idea, uot. in the li:rnnoniuus arrange 111 ent of wurds in se ntcnces, nor in th e di1·ision of a co111position into lin es containing
preval e11t habits of the age; its particular ellect 011 the fe. -·
male character; the virtues and vices 1vhi c h it would nalu·
a certain 8l1Cc~s s iu11 of long- and sl1nrt syllables.
rally engPmlc r or e nco11r;i gc; and the gornl or had consc- - -31.__. Poetryj dc;i ls larg ely in fignr;itive langu;i;.;c, especially in
que11t:e s of it,o: 11ni versal prevalf'nt:e al tl1 c pre;oe11t da y.
<i. '1'he an c ie nt Sects of' Pliilrn;oph y. DcscrilJP the va.
1· .- rs,· is f1c1111c11tl y i11 c.. rrccth· ""''l f,,r s/1111 , rz . ,\ ,.Ns e
I· l h
consists ofa :o::in~ l1· lin r, only . A sl: 111 :r.:1, sn111 ( · timt~ .r.: <"~]led,., .' >lrll'f' , consists
· d
·
I
·
nous sec ts ; t I!Cir oclnnes ; t IC manner Ill \\' llC l t cy
- of a number of liucs rl'g11l:11ly :i cl ju s lcd In c:icli oilier. The \\urd \C"C is
were taught; the character of the rcspcctirc founders ; _ _,.,..__derived from the L:1ti11 langu:igc, :111d siguili"s "t11niinf::. The propri ety
their inllue nce; the remarkal.ilo individuals who have em- ~;afiii;;~ gf the name will he scc u in thc !'act, th:it when we 11:1\e tiui shcd a lin e we
- turn tll tlir ot.l1rr c:i'11 ~ (1f tlir 11 : q_~r' fr 1 <' !1 111111r1H'P, :111n!lirr.
hra(;cd lite pri11 01plr!H ul' I.lie H!Sl•(:ctivc se( ;J;< ; and lite clfocl - ..,.,,_-. t Thero are f<: w w1111ls iu tl11 : l·'.ng li sli l:iugu:ig<', tlu• trnc "ii:u ilicntio 11 of
or their writiugs an<l example Oil rnauki11 d, &c.
which is more J'J·c11 uc11tly mi stake n than the word l'oc try. It is gcnC'rally
7. 'I'he Public Games of Greece. '!'he ir ori['.in ;
lhought to consist in the harmoniou s arrani;cmcn t of words i11 sc utcuc cs,
,'
and th e division of a c om posit ion int o lines containing a certa in s u cccsture of th ese games, or in what. th ey consisted; the places ,:_. ~.;;· lion of long or sh ort. sy ll ab J<,s. Tl1is is a mistak ing of tlw dress for the
where they were celebrated; the rewards bestowed upon .~~ .. tubotancc whic h the dress should cover. Trne poe try consists in the
idea, nn<l it may be prcsent"<l even in the forn1 of prose. It aJdresses it,__,.:..-_

21 *

i'

T

. . . ..._. .

~~t__..

!

246

.AIDS TO

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

247

tropes, metaphors, personifications, similes, and comparisons. It
The Amphib rac h cons is ts of a shor t, a long, un<l a s hort sy ll ais also excee dingly partial to compound epithets, nnd new co111o
hie; ll.S, d•' li g htf'Lil, r(, muviil , e<'\i·v,\I.
binations employ e d for the purposes of illu s trution and deacril>". ~
·The Anap test consists of two short syllables un<l one long
tion.
· ~·one; as, cu11trr1.vene.
VersificRtion is the art of making verses. A verse is a line
".' The Tribra ch c onsists of three sho rt sy ll ublcs; as, -r'ilzlc'il in
cons isting o f a certain succrssion of long an d s hort syllablca.
the word spiri/11al.
A hemistich is a half of a verse. A distich, or co upl e t, consistf
- -;' · Of these e ight different kinds of feet, th e Iamb us, the Troof two ve rses.
.: chee, th e An:qm,st, and th e Uactyle arc most f'rcq ne ntly used,
Metre " is the measure by which verses are composed. Thit
·._, and verses rnay be wholly or c hi efly composed of them . The
measure depends on the numb er of the syll ab les a nd the poai..
·..: others may be t e rmed secondary feet, because their use is to dition of the accents.
versify the ha rm o ny of t he verse.
The divis ions mad e in a verse to r eg ulate the proper succe..
· · English verses may be divid e d into three classes, from the feet
sion of long- a nd short syllables are called feel. Th e y are called ··:
-· of which tlicy are principally composed; namely, tli c larnbic, the
feet, because the voice, as it were, steps aluBg through the versa i>iiiiili•~ Trochriic, and the Anapre s tic. To thc5e some mz tl1 ors add the
in n men s ured pace. The divi sio ns of a verse into feet depend
Dactylic ns n fourth division; but n)1 nttrntivc co11s id cratio11 of
e ntire ly upon wh nt is culled th e 111wnlity of th e sy ll a bles, that it,
- what is called the Dactylic vcrnc will s how t ha t it is llo thing
whether th e y nre lonp: or short, without refe rence to the words.
- more than th e Ana prestic, with the omission of the first two unSometimes a foot coBsists of a s ingl e wo rrl , but it a !so sometimes
accented sy llahlcs.
embraces two or three diffe re nt words, arnl sometimes is comEvery spec ies of Engl ish verse regularly terminates with an
posed of parts of different words.
·
accented syllab le; but eve ry spec ies also admits at the end an
There are e ight kinds of foe t, four of wh ich arc feet of two
&ddition:d una ccented sy llnlil c , p roduc ing (if the ve rse be 111
syll a bles, a nd four are feet of three syllables.
-t rhyme) a clonhl e rh yme, that is, a rhyme extending to two syllaThe feet consisting of tw o s yllables are the Trochee, the lam• .....:- hies, as the rh.IJm e must always commence on llze accented syllublc.
bus, the Spond ee, and the Pyrrhic.
.:' This additiona l sy llcibl e often cha ng es the ch:i ra ctcr of the ve rse
Th e feet of thre e syllables are the Dactyle, the Amphibrach, •
from grave to gay, from ser io us to jocose; but it does not affect
the Anaprest, and the Tribrach.
the measure o r rhyme of the preceding part of the verse . A
The Trochee consists of one lon g and one s hort sy llable ; 11111 --:.
~ verse thu s le ngthened is called hypermcter, or orcr 111cas1ue.
h a tefi:il.
Pure Iambic verses contain 11 0 ot her foot th:.in t he Iambus, and
T he Iambus consists of a short syll abic and a long one; M,
are unifor111ly acccntctl 011 the cvr:n syllabics.
bctr~\y,
Trocha ic verses ar e :.icccntccl on the odd sylhlilcs.
The Spondee consists of two long syllables; as, P;t!e morn.
_
There arc se ven forms of la1nb ic verse, na111cd from the numThe Pyrrhic consists of tw o short syllab les; as, un tin~ tall tree;-~
her of feet which they contai11 . The follow in~ li11e of fourteen
The Uactyle consists of one long syllable and two s hort ones;
syliubles contains a ll the seven fo rms of pure l:unbic verse :
as, huliuess, thundering.
). !low i.Jlill11' I whi'n firstjfr<;11 1 l:1r il c:1mc\L•\ '""'' \:ind '"'"\the rn:1id."
- - - - --

- --

- -- · - - ·

-

:!. \Vltcn Jirq \1'r11111 for \l ea111c \lo w11n \a11 d
:J. Fro111 for ll ca1nc\to \\·on j~1nd
1. I ca mc\to wnn\nnrl
G. To woopwJ
li. A nJ

- ··- - - - -- ---

win jthf' 111:iid.
wi11plic lllaid .

se lf to the imni:inntion nn rl to the frrlinge. Tlrne frr errirtn rnl nrlnge,~1~;
\Yinj'thP rnniil.
"L o ve your enemies," althou g h in prose, becomes hi g hly poetic al, whe!!~
win llie nmid.
prcsc 11tecl \\ ith
lJeaulii'ul illu s l1at1v11 ur Menon; " Like the Sa]l(Ja] tree~!i~~
winlthe w aiJ.
wJiich slw<ls a µerfume Oil tJi e ax e which fe ll~ it, we sh1Ju]d Jo ve our ene7 . The m a i<I.
mies." 'T'hi" rii"tinct ion between tho irlen nnd t he rlrr'"" which it assumer,
mu st be carefully noti ced Ly a ll wh o aspire t o poetical fame.
The add itional syll ab ic en at the end of each line, to couvcrt
Per ha ps th e re is in no la ngua ge a 111 orc heautil-ul cxl1il)itin 11 of poetical
maid into 111rridC11, will furni s h seven hypcr111c/rrs, and tlie line
beauties in the form of prose, than in th e beautiful tale calle d "The Epi•
will thereby be made to exem plify fourteen different forms of
cnre ~ n , " hy 'J'hnm:lft Moore , li:~ 'l ·
the fo111bic 1\'ff('. t
~ It ma y JH~rh:ip:-i h0, 11~f'f1il, althnw_;f1 11nt proprrly rnnnr'rt r d with the
sul1ject of E11gl1•h versilicatio11, lo ex pla111 what is m ea nt i11 ps alrnucly b7~--~-= ----------------------------/,011~, Cnm11u)11. 8hnrf , and T't1 rficu/11r 1110trc . ,,.l1l't1 < ;\('li l inr~ of a sl:rnu
ff Tlii~ rnc;t ~: ure is ~Ol!lC'tiinr·~ Jirr,kr>n into twn line s, t]
111 ~:
has e ig ht sy ll,.bl cs, it is call ed Long Mrtre . \Vhcn the li rst a nd third li ne1,""~~=
h nve P ight sy llablP ~ . a1ul t.lu~ se:c ond :rnd fonrlli J1:ir1· s i'\ Ryll;-ihles, it is""
I low hlithr: whrn firs t T r:imc from far
called Co mnu;n Jllelre. \Vhcn the tl1ird lin e has Pi11.lir. , n1ul the rest haYe
To woo and w in the maiLl .
s ix sy llabl es, it is c all e d Short 111..1u. :Oz a11 zas i11l'wllwlar1lletre are . of
- t The firth lorrn or Iambic verse, c on sisting or fi ve Ia mbu ses, is called
v ar io us k i11<l s, nn<l ar c not s ubj ect to defi nite rule s .
the Heroic mca ~ urc . The fol lowing Jines cxcrnpli(y it :

tlie

1

= - -===

?.:~~~--­

_[1Jii-4~F<=:ll
.t
1 \

;

11

It

!.:f

i+

248

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

Trochaic verse is in reality only defective Iambic; that is to ,
say, Iambic wanting the first syllable.•
i .
The following line is an example of Trochaic verse:
Vilftl I spiirk of Iheavenly I flame. t
Anaprestic verse properly consists of anaprests alone; as,
At the clo~e Iof the day I when the ham I let rs still.
The first foot, however, in all the different forms of Anaprestic
metre, may be a foot of two syllables, provided that the latter
syllable of the foot be accented. Such nre the Iambus and thi'Spondee. But the Pyrrhic and the Trochee, which have not the
second syllable accented, are on that acconnt inadmissible.!
:

'
Ilow !Ove<l, / hUw val / lie<! once / Kvails

I thee not

To whom reluted, or uy whom begot, &c.
'
The sixth form of Iambic verse is called the Alexandrine measure:
A needles• Alexnndrine ends the song,
Which like I ll wound I cd snake / drags Hs I slOw lilngth / !UOng.
• ;:>,e ~ C?rey's Engli sh Prosody, London edition of 181G, pp. 25 and 27. , ;
t I !us hne, scanned as Iambic, has a broken foot at the beginning 1 · ,
Vi ) tal spark I of heaven / ly flame .
Scanned as Trochaic, it has thP. broken foot at the end r
Vital I spark of/ heavenly / flame.
In like manner, if we cut off the first syllable from any form of the lam•
bic, w.e shall find that i_t m_ay be scanned both ways, with the deficiency ofa semi-foot at the beginning or the end, according ns we scan it in lam·
buses or Trochees.
Thus, the line given as an exemplification of the Iambic metre on the
pre~eding page, if deprived in each form of its first syllable, becoO:es 'fro•
chaic ;
,

I

how) Illithe when I first from I far I came
when) First from I far I came
from) Far I I come
I) Come

I

to ) woo and win thC / maid.

lo

win the

woo and

I

maid.

to woo and win the maid :
to I woo and win the maid.
to) Woo and win the maid.
and) Win the mold. "
Anti thue we sec, tl~at what we c:all Trochaics r egular!'! ~crminatc in AD •
accented. syllable, ns 1s the case rn every other form of English metre•
though , like every other form, they also admit an additional unaccented
syllable at t_he end, producing a .dou~le rhyme_; so that by chang!ng maid • .;
for maiden Ill each of the precedmg Imes, (as directed under Iambic verse) ··
we shall have twelve forms of Trochaic verse. But it may lie remarked
that of the six regular forms of Trochaic verse, and the six hypermeter re~
lated ,to them, t~1e first tln"'.e i~ each class are very seldom used.
t 1 he following stanza 1s given by some authorities as an instance of
Dactylic verse:
JJ<>~y ~"•.l,l 11iiro. ~r~ _u.,; j 1•l~iiRli r<;• llfl pii!ty,
Hr.t\~ll fr~ m th1 ~ j ff~unt1~f 11 uf J m c rCJ ri 1ul
E~d}c!iS?. e x I~IHUHllees, c .t I ~mpl from HK

I

Ji;vc;
tiCty,

Uisrng un I earthly fod / sonrlng !l / biive.
An attentive considerntion of these lin es will show that they are Icgiti·
mate. Anap1Pstic lines with the omission of the first two unaccented eylla· , ·
hies in each hn e. When scanned as Dactylic measure the two unaccent·
ed sy ll ables are omitted at the end of the even lines.' By supplying the · .••

249

Different kinds of feet frequently occur in all the different
But it is not always that they can be exactly
discriminated. Concerning the Trochee, the Spondee, and the
Pyrrhic, there can be little doubt; but with respect to the Dact7le1 the Anaprest, and the Tribrach, the case is different; because, by a poetic license, the writer may make the foot in question a 'frochee, a Spondee, or a Pyrrhic.•
It remains to be observed, that if from any verse of ordinary
construction, we remove any number of syllabl es, and substitute
an equal number of others, exactly corresponding with them in
~cent, the metre will still be perfect, although the sense may
be altered. Thus,
Pelides' wrath, to Greece the direful spring
OJ wues iln11iimbcred, heavenly goddess sing.
Altered thus :
The Frenchmiin's arts, to Spain the direful spring
OJ feuds and carnage, heavenly goddess, sing.
Hark! the numbers, soft and clear,
Genlly steal upon the ear.
Altered thus :
'
Hark! the thunders, loud and clear,
Rudely burst upon the ear.
" The Cresura (which word means a division) is the separation,
or pause, which is made in the body of a verse in utterance;
dividing the line, as it were, into two members. In different
1pecies of verse, an<l in different verses of the same species,
this pause occurs in different parts of the verse ; and serves to
give variety to the line. Its position is, for the most part, easily
ascertained, by the grammatical construction and the punctua~ tion, which naturally indicate the place where the sense either
requires or admits a pause.
' The most advantageous position for the Cresura is generally
after the fourth, fiflh, or sixth syllable ; although it occasionally
takes place after the third or the sev enth.
_ In the following lines the figures denote the number of the
1yllable where the cresura belongs.
The Saviour comes 411 by ancient bards foretold.
From storms a shelter 511 and from heat a shade.
Exalt thy towering head 611 and lift thy eyes.
Exploring 311 till they find their native deep.
Within that mystic circle 711 safely seek.
lwo unaccented syllabi cs at tho bc'ginning of each lin e, they may thus bo
, thown to be Anapa;stic:
Oh hOw ho I ly and pure I are thC pleas / tires of pi / ety
As they 're drawn I from the foiln 1 tain of mer I cy ~nd !Ove, &c.
And thus it appears, that when scanned as Anaprestic they want the accented sy llable at the end of the odd lines.
• See Carey's English Prosody 1 p. 49.

250

ENGLISH CO!llPOSITION.

AIDS TO

Four Iambuses.

Sometimes, though rarely, the cresura occurs
or the eighth syllable; as,
Happy 211 without the privilege of will.
In diffe rent individuals I we find.
Sometimes the line requires or n<lmits two pauses or crosur11,
'l'his double pause is by some writers called the cmsura and the
demi-cmsurn ; as,
·
C1eilnr, 211 the world's grent rn :1sler, 711 and J1is own.
Aud goodness 311 like the sun (j II eulightens all.
There are few more melodiou s instances of these pauses to
be found, than in the following lin es from one of the most pol•'
ished poets, which the English lang1iage has produced.
·
Warms I in the sun, 4 I refres hes G I in the bre eze,
Glows I in th e stars, II a nd blosso ms I in the tre es ;
Lives II through all lifo, II extends I through all extent,
Spreads I undivided, operates II unspeut.
It remains to be observed, that in poetry, as well as in prose,'
but more especially in poetry, it is esteemed a great beauty
when the sound of the verse, or of the feet of which it is com·
posed, corresponds with the signification.
Instanc es of thi1
kind will be found under the head of Onomatopceia, on the I 16th
and 117th pages, A similar beauty appears in the following
lines:
"On the ear
Drops the light d1-ip of the suspended oar."

And may at last my weary age
Find out the peaceful hermitage.
Ffo~

lmnbuscs, or the Heroic measure.
Ile wise to-day, 't is madness to defer.
IJow loved, how valued once, avails thee not,
To whom related, or by whom begot:
A hea p of dn sl alone n•11111i11s of thee,
"l' is nil thon nrl, and nil the proud shall be.

Six Iambuses, or the Jllcxrmdrinc measure.
For thou nrt but of dust; be humble and be wise.

(The latter only ?f the two following is an .!llexandrine.)
A nee dless Alexandrine e nds the song,
That, like n wounded snake, drags its slow length along.

Seven Iambuses.
The melancholy days have come, the saddest of the year,

Of wailincr winds and naked woods, and meadows brown nnd sere.
The robin°nnd th~ wren have flown , nnd from the shrub the jny,
And from the wood top caws* the crow, through all the gloomy day.
This measure is 8o metimes brok en into two lines, thus:
Wh en all thy mercies, 0 my God !
My rising so ul surveys,
Transported with the view, I 'm lost
In wonder, love, and praise.

Trochaic verse of one Trochee and" long syllable.
Tumult cease
Sink to peace.
See him stride
Vall eys wide,
Over woods
0 ver floods.

"The string let fly
Twanged short and sharp, like the shrill swallow's cry."
SPECIMENS 01" DIFFEHENT KINDS OF ENULlSII VERSE . •

Iambic of the shortest form, consisting of an Iambus
tional syllable; thus coinciding with the
Disdaining.
Complaining.
This form may be found in stanzas
used alone.

Two Trnchees.

amphibrnch.
Consenting.
RepPnting.
of other measure, but is not ·

Second form of the Iambic, consisting of two Iambuses.
With ravished ears
The monarch hea rs,
Assum es the god,
Affects to nod,

llypcrmcler of the same kind.
Up011 n mountain,
Benea th a fountain.

Three Iambuses, with liypr.rmctcr nf the same kind.
'T was when the eeaR were rearing
With hollow blasts of wind,
A damsel lay deploring,
All on a rock reclined.

251

~

Rich the treasure,
Sweet th e pleasure.
Soft de nials
Are but tri als.

•', Two Trochees, with an additional long syllable.
In the days of old
Fables plainly told.

Three Trochees.
Go where glory waits thee .
• 'l'his alteration in a line of one of the sweetest pieces of )JOetry ever
written in any Jan"1rnge was surrgcs
ted bv the lamented Mr. U:ulcy , of the
0
. High Sch~ol f~r "Gi rl s' in this city. ln· compiling "'I'h.e Young Ladies'
: Clase Book," he exp resse d a wish to ~he ~uthor to take this liberty., but he
deemed it unwarrantable . The readtng is adopt~d here a.s a beautiful exemplification of what is st~ted under 011.omatopceia; and, .rndeed, when we
consider how easily tho printer might m1Stake m manuscript aw for a ~ou­
·' ble I, it would not he surprising if it should hereafter .ap.rear that our !,\tfted
countryman originally wrote it caws, and not calls, as 1t 1s generally written.

·----

252

AIDS TO

Three Trochees, with an additional syllable.
Restless mortals toil for nought;
Bliss in vain from earth is sought.
1"our Trochees.
Round us wars the tempest louder.
With an addiliu1wl s yllu./Jle.
ldle after dinner in his chair.
Five Trochees .
All that walk on foot or r id e in char iols .
Six Trochees .
On a mountain, stretched be neath a hoary willow .
Jlnapastic verse consisting of one _qnaprxst.

nut in vain
They complain ."
Two Jlnaprr.sls.

nut hi s courage 'gan fail,
For no ar ts could avail.
With an additional syllable.
R nt h is courn ge 'gnn fail him,
For no arts could avail him.
Three Jlnapa:sts.
I am monarch of all l s nrv<'y,
My right there is none lo dispute;
l"rom the cen tre all ronnrl to the ~"'" •
I am lord of the fowl a nd the Lirutc .
Four Jlnnpa·sts .
At the close of the dii.y when the hamlet is still.
llypermeter of four .11napmsts.
On the warm cheek of youth, smiles and roses are blending.

~ --~==,.- ----~

253

ENGLISH COil!I'OSITION .

and 1' yrrhics wilh lmnlmses .
Gil

pion~ off~prlng-

rind rPF:train thoRc

tear~ ;

I fly to reg-ions u! eternal bliss.
Ueaven in your fovor lwars 1ny <lying prayers;

Tak e my lo.st bl essi ng Tn this cln.y cold kiss .
.Dact11l with lmnlmscs .
Mormlirl ng , and with him fled the shad<'s of night.
_/Jmphibrarhs 111.iud w ith. lm11/111scs.
o ·,, .. rn:lny a fruze11 , rnany '1 fi ery alp .
a tu! n Trilnorh, nilh lr11uDusrs.
Innumerable hrfnrc th' A lrnighty 's throne .
IL will thus b<' pl' rce i ved , that by the mixtnre of d ifrP rcnt kinds of
fre t, nil that vari e ty is pr nd 11 erd, wh ic h rend rrn p oetry ngrPC'able to
the enr. To cons tit11 t!' verne, il is not s1dl i"i<'nt tl1:it a 111111 d>cr of jarring syllables should be rangPd in u11cnu th li11C' s, w ith rhyme al the
= end. O rder , rcg·ularitr, sr1111uctrr , and liarrnony are f (' quisite, \V hilc
the taste anJ juJgmc1;t of the poet arc displayed Ly the proper nlixture of accented and unaccc lllcd sy llablcs to form an h armo nious
line .~

The student haYing now been made acquainted wi t h th e differe nt kinds of n ., rse, ma y be required to compose \'Crscs him aclf in all the difforcnt kinds of 1neasurc . As a first exe rcise in
Yersification, he may he permitted to write wor d s in verses wilh -.--:'l~-,-oul rcg:ard lo lhcir significnlion, making w hat may be cal led nun,=~ti~1wse verses, as in Lit e following

VERSES IN WHICH THE SECONDARY FEET ARE ADMITTED TO ~i~i!i
GIVE VARIETY TO 'l'IIE MELODY;

MODEL.

Five fool lwndms ur T-fr.roi,; Ver se .
Thns man attempts some uob! P. r aim to scan.
Bestride s the flood in horror nt the plan.
Trochaic .
!:oilin g in the' troubled sen.

!"nil of m irthfnl hope to be .
The sludcnl will ohscrve , hy the 71wrk s on the v o1t rls, what the stt.'lnop1cst£c .
ondary feet are, which arc introduced in the following lillcs; the fir11 =-3 11==
jiJOt is a spondee .
From the lirnw of tltc hill src the he r mit nppccir,
An<l with joJj' in his fa.ce murk the W'1lers so el e '1r, &c.
There soon the suffercr ' sinks to rest.
'l'herc too was he, who nobly stemm ed th e tide.
t·:XA~l l 'L l:;o:
FO il l'HACTICE .
That breast the seat of sentiment rPfined.
Hail, !Ong lost Peace ! hail, dove-eye d maid divine.
''" · Having previo11sly citlcniplrd lo form .-rrscs in all thr diflf>rpnt s0r ls
J~-~~of measure that have Leen described, with words without reference to
.11. Pyrrhic occurs in the following.
lf aught be welcome
our sylvan shed,
Be It the trav ' ll er who hos lost his way.
• The harmon_y of a verse ""'Ysomet imes Lo utterly <lestroycd by the
1 sought the beauties uf the painted vale,
l1plnci11g of a si ngle monosy ll ahlc; thus,
The llowcrs I oficn wa lercd wHh my team,
"
"Thrice is he nrmr1l that hath his qnnrrel j ust
And load ed wHh my sighs the passing gale.
Au<l he but naked, though lock e d up in steel ,
\VJiose c u11 sc ie11c e is with i11ju stice corrupte<l ."
-=~':- In thi s e xtract , lllf• 111casurc <>f the thinl line is utterly Llc slroyc<l by tl 1c
if 1.,his measure is ambiguous, for by accenting the first a nd third
misplacing of the "nrd ;.,. It sllfnild !Jc,
bles we may make it 'l'roclwic.
"\Vliosc con~cic11ee wi th injustice is corrupte<l ."
22

lo

.,...

251

MDS TO

sense, the s tude nt may 1frrange the following lin e s in rt>gu lar orlltr,
The lin es th e mse lves contain ;ill the word s necessary both for the
moni o us co n s tructi on nnd the express ion of th <> se n se . The order .
them is however dis turbe d, as will be seen by the following model,

'

MODEL.

Arlicu to th e woocliands, where, gay and sportive,
Th e cattle play so frolic'\om e., light boundin g.
J\cl1 e u lo thP woodlands where 1 have roved oft,
And, with the friend that I love d, c onve rsed so sweetly.

Same words properly arranged.
Adieu to th e w oodland s , wl1 e re , spor tive an<l gay ,
Th e cattle li g ht boundin g so froli cso 111 e play .
Adie u lo the woo dland s where oft I ha ve rov e d,
And swee tly co nversed with the fri e nd 1 have fo vcd.
EXAMPLE S FOR l'RA CT! CE .

Verses to be arranged by the slu.denl in .fln1tpwslic • lines of f our fed.
Co11lc nt and joy are 11ow IJ..d fro111 our d wellings,
And, in s le aJ, di sease and want are our i11111ales .
Now c hivalry is dead, and Gallia ruin e d,
J\ nd the glory of Europe is fled fur ever.
' Tis w om an, whose charms impart eve ry rapture,
And lo the pulse of the heart a dd a soft s pring.
H er sway is so supre me, th e miser him se lf
Resigns h er his key, and to lo ve grows a co nvert.
S orrow lifts up his head at the so und of he r voice .
And , from hi s s he d , Poverty we ll plPased li s ten s .
Even Av.:e, hobblin g a lon g , in a n ecs tasy
Bea ts tinie to the t une o f he r so n g wit h he r crutch.
Jlow sweet is the. though t of lo-m orrow t01 th f> he art,
vVhcn Hope 's fairy pictures di s pla y bright rnlors ,
ll ow swee t when we can borrow fr om futurity
A ualm for the g ri efs that to-uay uJllict us .

To lie made intn lmnbic verses ,,,;//,fou r fed .
A nd wh il e I fr d thy g racious girts
l\Iy song sh all reveal all t hy p ra ise.
Th e sea rch shall leach thee to pr ize Ii fr-,
1\11d make th ee g ood , wise, an d gra te ful.

..

~--"""-'~<l'l-·o;;··-~·--~-.-.-

ENGLISH COJ\IPOSITION.

2G5

With ease you wear a th ousancl s hapes ,
An d stil l yo u please in every s hape .
Nei th e r wealth l pursnc, nor power,
Nor huld iu view forLiJ<leu j oys.
Th e prud e nt nymph, whose c hee:ks di sclose
Th e blu s hin g rose a nd the lily,
Will screen her c h a rm s fr om public v iew,
And rare ly be seen in the crowd.

Iambic verses of fi ve f eet, or th e Heroic • measure.
As Orpheus tunes his so ng in T hracian w il ds,
The rapture d Leasts thron g aroun u him in crowds .
Seek uot thou lo find, with va in e n <leav our,
O f Al 111i g h ty lllind t he secre t cou nse ls;
The g reat rl ccre.: li es inv olve r! in darkn ess;
Nor can the de pths of fate by thee be pierced.
0 co uld so m e poe t ri sC', h old in w isd om,
And un fo ld half thy beauties to the \\·orld,
Jtovi11g- on fiu1 cy's wi n g, i111part thy fire,
And fe e l th y gf' niu s bPa rnin g- o n hi s heart , I 'd w ish hu111 bly, thnnr;h t he w ish \\'011ld he vai n ,
That 011 Ille so 11ie sma ll portion might a light.

Trochaic verses.
Whe re spreads the rising fores t
F o r the lordly dom e s he lte r ,
To th e ir airy bPds hi g h built
See re f.urnin g h ome t he rooks.
Nol\' battle i..J<Hrn w ith furv
Jn lor n'nls ffu\\'s h n>tilc bl;io d.
l i<'rf' yo 11 "11 find rncnf.'1.l pl<':t>tircs,l'lcasmf'R that the mind a Jorn.
'l'lie joys of ~ f ·nsc arc transient
They d"'Pensc 110 s olid bli ss .
The sh ephe rd di ncs by the Ii rook
I leal t he fi erce meridian fro111
lly the branchin ,c; pin es s hcltcrcJ
O' er his g ras oy scat penden t.
Hut fr o lll slrl' a111, de ll , or 111ounlain
S prin~ s J1 ot a f\11t tc ri11g ze ph yr,
J ,l'st f. hP noontide bca111, frarf11 l
l lis s ilke n , hi s soft wing8 ::;cureb .

*Dr. C arey, in his E nglish P rosndy , says," 11·, lik e Tcrt.cus of old,!
h:id to :nv:ik(~ dnrm.111t Y.1lor with th e vni r. e nl' ~fl ll J! ~ I \\' ()tild in preference
t o e very othe r fo r n.1 of Lngli s h metre, choose Lia~ ,\ n apa :st ic, (Jr four feet
in coup l ets i whic li , if \veil writt ~ 11, in real :111ap:1·st~, 11 11i r1c11 11 1hcrcd with
an 11nd11 f' wf'i ~dd n f' li( •av_v i;:_vll:tld1·~ . :i nd .i11di1·inn"l_v :tid 1·d l1y :q1proprl1Le
:·"!_ • Tl~is iA the princip:d mclrc nf' n11r l : 1t 1 L:11:1t~r. and it i~ li:ip\1ily adapl1'd
r 11 11 ~ i c, could hardl y foil to lllarl. iit li zc: cv 1: 11 Hliiv c 1i 11 g cuwanlH , nncl war• _
~·- lo every lu11d u!' i; ul1.1 cct , J"10111 1lw 111P .<: t cxnlt('tl tu Llin 111 v:--L n11111.de a11d
tl1<~ 111 intn h P. rne~ ~ti r e li risk, :i11i111:1ti11t.; 111:iri·li nl" t hc rr ' rs P li ;ivi 11 g the 111 mt -....:> ...L t&zuil iur, and il 1n11 y lie used with or witlioul rli ylllc .
rtl°rf'.t on th e ~nu l , as th e bPdy r>xpr rif 'f! C r'~ frnlll flip c111ick, !ivPIJ stepl~Ri'f"-whi c h. b y acce l c r atin~ t he c irculati on of t he h! ood . :it once w::irme a.Dd
dilatcS tli e heart, and renders th e w;irrior tl1 (1rP pr nmp l to der,ds of prow.
c~~ . "
If an y o ne would t est the j11 s tnr> 8~ of nr. Can~y's opinion as thut
expressed , hi s doubts wi ll be resolved In· the perusal ol' Camp bell's beau·
t11'1il piece, entitled" Loc hiers \ Varning .n

256

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COMPOSITION .

VOCABUL A llY

LESSON L:XfV.

o~·

257

RlIYl\lES.

lJirn:l ions .fin· finding H hymcs.

RIIYl\IE.

Rhyme is a similarity, or agreement, 111 the sound
syllables.
Verse without rhyme is called bl1111k verse . ~It is a general rule in poetry, with regard to rhymes that the7
should begin on the accented syllabic.
'
In the for~1ing of ve rses with rhyme, it is a good rule to let
the weaker !me stand first.
Rhymes may occur in consecutive, or alternate lines, or in anyothcr regular order, at the pleasure of the writer.
!thymes arc of two kinds, perfect rhymes nnd nllowa hie rhymes.
The di!fo~cncc between the two kinds will readily he seen by
the fulluwrng Vocabulary, taken from Walker's "HJ1yming D~
tionary ." t

I. In looking for a word, consider the live vowels, A, E, I, 0, U, and
, begin at the vowel that precedes the last consonant of the \\'Ord; for ex•mple, to find persuade, and the words that rhyme lo it, lJ is the last
.c consonant, A the vowel that precedes it; look for Al>I,;, and you will find
_llatle .fiulc, iw•1u/r. am! :di the ot.h"r words of that rhyme .
2. in like manner, if a word end in two or 111or~ consowrnts, hBgin at tlic
lnwel that immediately precede s the first of them ; for example, ht111l, N
ii first of the final consonants, A the vowel that precedes it ; see ANJJ,
and you will find ba7irl, st1111d, command , '-'=-c.
3. But if a dirhtl1ong, that is to say, two or more vowels together , pre~:· cedes the last consonant or consonauts of a word, Uegin at the first of theRe
two vowels; thns, to f111d the rhymes to disdain, look not for IN, but for
AlNi ~IH~ yon wi!J find hroi11, du!i11 1 ;;11_in, '"\:,c .
-__-• 4. lo h11d a wore! that cnrle 111 a rl1phthong prc ccdcrl by a co nsonant,
-- begin only at the first rnwr•] of the diphthong; for example, to fi nd the
rhymes to subdue, look for //£, anrl you will liud clue , due, e11sue, &c .

will copiously enlarge the writer's stock of expressions, - will enable him
to array his thoughts in a more e legant and attractive garb, and to vary
that garb at pleasure, by the ready aid of a di1•ersified phraseology. It
will, at the same time, produce a more important and henclicial effect,it will enrich the intellectual store of tl1ought; for, \\'hile in search for an
tpithet, for an example, o r a periphrase , he is obliged to view the subject in
aH its possible bearings a11d relations, that he may choose such particubr
_ 11'ord or phrase, '1S slrnll e xhibit it in the most arlvantagco11s light.
And
what study more effectual to call into action the powers of' the mind, to
.~-~ exercise the judgment, to whet the sagaciiy, a11d giu birth to 1t torict11
-- _., of ideas, which might otherwise have lain for ever dormant? For these
,.· weighty considerat ions, the practice of verse-making has been recom-:-"_ mended by Locke, Chesterfield . franklin, &c., &c."
,
The teacl1er will find the following exercise. called hy the French
"Bout.• Rimes," interesting to the 1J"""!!. st11tlent, a11rl, like all other i11duccments to thought. auxiliary lo the suhjert of composition.
"O"e of a party writes down the rhyming words f'or a short poem;
which another undertakes to cn111plele, by lilling up the several verses, on
puhlical.io11 . That. must he. !·l 1_ n work of n:1.1.nr0, ~iloiw: it is nnt in my
I aubjccl either chosen at. plc:urnr0-, or prescribed, a:-:i the case mav he.
iowcr to create ~hem; "'."I 1f 1t were, I lllrght ho accirncd of' doing more
'J'ho f'ul!owing stanza, in which the wonls in It alic arc the rhv111i11u ,\·ords
wnn than good, 111 tempting any of my young readers to 4 uit a gainful c•ll·::;:~f';;;;';;;;!'°previo usly assigned, will be sullicie11tly explanatory of the pra,ctice ~:
i11g for the ungai11f'ul trade. J'Vly aims are more h11rnhl10; - l. To teach !he- ."Tu llon: .
J~ar11er to ~end poetry with pr~ 1 p r i~~ty and ~~;ice; ~. To ·iinpro\'C and poli1b ==."'Oi·:·:~E~·
Down. <lo\\' fl ~ \·ain liope. to me no
nwre
l11s style for prose co111pos1t1on.' Auel, further on, he add"; "l11<le~,~-~f!~".'.'.:..
Can spring return, \Yith blossoms
every person, whether poet or not, who has received anv tolerahle edu.
troumed ,
Nor
Summer
ripe11
Autumn's
cation, and P.retends to wr!te decent prose. 011ght likewise to be qnalified
slorP ,
\Vhich now lies witlicring on the
for the occas1011al production of a few verses, smooth at least, and melri·
. gnmrul.
ea lly correct, whatever may be their merit or demerit in other respectt.
Fade, faue, vain Hope 1 all else has ,
. flt(led;
That the. practice of versification mate r ially improves the style for pro1e
\Vl 1y should I dream and cherish
tlia ?
compos1t.1011, there cannot he a dnuht. The r.ar wliicli is :icntt'ly sensible
Since d:rrk llcsp:rir, that""' has
s!iadrtl,
to tlic harmonics of vcrnc, will naturally revolt atc1i11st ird1ar1no11ir.H1H hnrth•
\Vhiclr once gave light and joy to
me.
n~ss. in prose; and the 11ai1~s. bestowe d in searching fr1r a variety of word1
Go, flatte rer ~ go! thy hour is
pn.:t;
of d1fforent lengths, quantities, and terminations, to suit the exigences
Thy promised plcasnres all are
vm.n;
the metre,] know tltey arc not me;rnl to
. . last 1
'the slrirts and tnrrrn,
And
11c'er
,·,,iJI
tr
uf.'t
to
thee
.
.
at;uin."
,.l'h' cxp0.tli0,11ls and invent.ion~ 11111lt.if'orrn
'To which the mind resorts in c lrn se of t~rms
Another sort of' poetical amusement h:rs tire name of E cho l'rrscs. In
''l" arrest the lleeti11g images, that fill
'
these the repetition of the last word or syllable of a verse gives an answer
'The mirror of the mind,
" Rhyme is by no means to be considered as an essential constituent ill
English poetry. Much poetry has been written and that too of the
c,hoicest description, in which rhyme has no part.' Tlw poet~y of' Milton,
Shak~peare, Thomson, Young, and a hust of others , whose writings hne
~ontnbu~e.d s~, much to the literature of the language, seldom admits thil
meretncwus .ornam e nt, as 1t has. been call ed. But. it Jias heen said,
that, although, 1n the five feet Iambic measure, thr. measured dignity o(
the _v_erse supphes the place of rhyme, in the other forms of English
vers1!icat1on 1t 1s absolutely essential. \Vhoever will be at the paine to
convince him.se lf that this is an erroneous opinion, may easily do so by
the perusal of the works of Dr. South ey, especially his" Thalaba, or '!'he
Destrover."
t Ori the same principle of association, on which some of the enrlier
lessons in this volume are founded, it is thought that this vocabulary will
?id the stud~nt, n'.'t only in finding a _ rhy~e , hut likewise in 8 ugge•ting
ideas. Dr. Cary, Ill the Pre face to his" l•.ngl!sh Prosody," says: "II ii
not w ith the view of making poet• and ]H1ctcsS1'8, that J send forth thil

r.

l

or

22"

~=-=-

258

AIDS TO

ACT.
·' Act, foct, pact, tract, all.met, abstract,_ Pxtract, compact, contract,

detract, distract., exact, protract, c11act., inlract., subtract, trnnsact,cat.aract, with the 7irctcrits onrl partfriplts r!f vcrhs in ack, as backed
hacked, &c . JJl/010alile rhymes, the 7netcrits and participles of v erbs
i11. ake, as baked, caked, &c. See ./Jircctiun 3.
AD.
Add, bad, dad, gad, had, lad, mad, pad, sad, brad, clad, glad, plad,
chad, &c. ,q/lowablc rhymes, cade, fade, &c., glede, bead, read, &c.
See Direetio1l :3.
ADE.
Cade, farlP, rna<fo, jade, lade, wade, blade, glade, shade, spMlc, trade,
drgmdc, evade, dissuade, invade, persuade, ulockacle, brigadl', esplan ade, cavalcade, masquerade, renegadr>, retrograde, s:renade, ambuscade cannonade, pallisade, &c. Perfect rhymes, aid, maid, braid,
afraid, upbraid, &c., and the preterits and participles of verbs in ay,
ey, and eigh, as playPd, obeyed, weighed, &c. /ll/owable rhymes,
add, bad, &c., bed, dead, &c., bead, mead, &c., heed, need, &c. See
Direction 3.
A l"I'~ .
Safe, chafe, vouchsafe, &c. JJ/lownble rhymes, leaf, sheaf, &c.,
deaf, &.c., laugh , staff, & c.
AFF.
Gaff, chaff, drnff, quaff, staff, engraff, Ppitaph, cenotaph, paragraph,
J'e1j'e<:t rliy11w, laugli. . ql.lon:11.li[e rhymes, safe, chafo, &c.
AFT .
Afl, hafl , raft, waft., craft, s hafr, abafl , graft , draft, ingraft, lirindi crnft. l'nfcct rhymes, draught, and the preterits and particip lrs of
tJtrbs in aff and a ugh, as quafled, laughed , &c . Jlllowahie rhymes,
the preterits and ziarticiples <f verbs in afe, as chafed, vouchsafed, &c .
AG .
Dag, cag-, fag , gag , nag , rinag, rag , tag-, :vng, brag, crag, drag, flag ,
knng , shag, snag, stag , \\'rag, scrag, TiroLd1gnng.

ACE .
Ace, dace, pace, face, lace, mace, race, hracr, clrnce·, grace, place,
space, trace, apace, deface, efface, disgrace, displace, misplace, em• .
brace, grimace, interlace, retrace, popnlacp, &c. Perfect rhymu,
base, case, abase, debase, &c. .111/owablc rhymes, grass, glass, &c.1
peace, cease, &c., dress, less, &c.

ACH .
Attach, detach, &c. Perfect r!tynws, batch, match, &c.
rhymes, fetch, wretch, &c. See Direction 3.

ACK.
Back, cack, hack, jack, lack, pack, quack,
to a question, or explains some subject., which that verse contains. The
followi11g echo verses allude to the !{oundheads in the reirrn of Charlee
the First.
"
Now, Echo, on what 's religion grounded?
R o1Jndhead.

\Vho 's its professor most consideralilc?
Rabble .
How do these prove themscl vcs to be the go,]]y

?

Orfilli;.

fiT;
;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;fih·':·;

259

el!ek crnck knack , slach, snack, slack, track, wrack, attack, zodiac,
.11/lowable rhymes, hake, lake, &c.,
· neck, speck, &c.

AB.

•

:

"demo~iac, s~mposiac, almanac.

Bab, cah, dab, mah, nab, blah, crab, drab, scab, stab.
rhymes, babe, astrolabe, &c. See Direction 3.

~ '11iCl~l'1'•

... - . -----

~--.-. -,.,.~,~-~- ~-

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

5. All the words that end in a single vowel preceded Ly a consonant, m
found b,Y looking for that vowel only, except always the words that end lQ
mute le, which are constantly found by the same method that has beea
already prescribed for finding the rhymes lo pas11urle, whose fi11al E ie
silent, and serves only to le11gthen the sound of the A in the last sylla~lo.

[

...-........-.

But they in life arc known to be the holv .
0
Do they not learning from their doctrine sever?
Erer!
Yet they pretend , that they do edify;
0 fi.e!
\Vhat church have they , and what pulrits?
Pitts.
Arc crosses, images, and ornamc11ts t ll(~ir scandal 1
-=~::::=
AGE.
All!
,How do they stand affected to the government civil?
Age, cngC', g~gc, page, rage, sage, wage, stage, swagc, as~uagc,
Evil.
engage, disengage, enrage, presnge, appenage, concubinage, heritage,
But to the King they say they arc most loyal.
hermitage, parent.age, parsonage , personngc , pastnrnge, patro11age ,
J,ie all.
pilgrimag<', villanagl', equipage . .'/llowoble rhymes , edge, wedge, &c.,
Then God keep King and state from these same men.
liege, siege, oblige, &c.
Amen.
AID, see ADE .
, It remains to ·be observed i 1. That the two corresponding syllables ofa
rhyme must not only begin their consonance with the accented vowel buL. ~il~i
AIGHT, see ATE.
must preserve i~ through the remainin~ letters; thus, text and vext, ~Oll(1
A lGN, see ANE.
and /m1g c<3hn '"nth on~ nnothDr resp~ct1 vcly ~ in tlu~ Ho111uls cxl a11tl 014.f~-~~··.".'l#\:!
I'.·~~
2. Th~J .vrmud., , a11d not tho I ell.cm, ~:OIH<l.itul.e LI"' rhymn. 'J'lou•, rtit!t_AIL.
and plmn, tl1rouf!h and hue, though chllcrcnt to the nye , form on unobj
· Ail, bail, fail, hail, jail, mail, nail, pail, quail, mil, sail, tail, wail,
tionahle rhyme; but through a11d rough, thouuh similar to the eye have no
Bail, frail, snail, trail, assail, avail, detail, bewail, entail, prevail, resimilarity in srntnrl.
"
'
tail, countervail, &.c. P r1Jcct rhymes, ale, bale, dale, gale, hale, male,
3. The letter or letters in the syllable which precede the accented
psle , sale , talP, vale , wale, scale , shale, slale, swale, whale , impale,
vowel, must "?t be tl!e same in form, nor in sound, in each, otherwise the."
- exhale, regale, veil, nightingale, &c. .llllowaLle rhymes, peal, steal,
conso.nance will he d1sagrceablc to the 0:i r. IIef!C8 , lend and tl1e last syl·&c., bell, cell , & c .
c·lable m contend, sent and scent are not allowable rhymes.

i;,·,

1

--- ---···-.,.------- --- --·--- -,,...
2GO

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

AIDS TO

-

.....

""'-""""-"'"•

----·---- ------- - - - --

E N GLISH COil!POSITIO N .

Ali\!, see Al\IE.

261

/\ LT.

AlN.

,. 1-lnlt, malt, rxnlf , Rnlt, van If, nssa11lt , drfonlt , nnrl fault, the Inst of
tlro11glrt, Longlit , &c .

~ain, .blain,, brai~'· chair:, fa~n,_ga.in,.grain , _lain , ~nain, pain, rain;
vau~, wain, d_ra1n, pl.~1n, sla1~, Spain, st~ 111, swa in, t.ra111, twain, spraio,

ALVE.

s~ra1.~, ah~~a1_n,, amain, .attain, cor~p l a1 11 , c_ontain~ co~rn train , <letaio,
<l.1~~.un,. (~l1st~,~111·'· en~- ~rn1!1, enter.la in, ex1~Ia1n, 11.1a1nt:1111, or<lain, per•
t~ll~, 0Lt._u11, 1efr,1111, 112~ain, rc11Ja1n, rcstr~1n, r~ trun, s ustain, apperlnin.- .
l _c1fccl 1_hy1ncs, b~nc, can~'· dane, ~rane-, ~ane, .Jflll~, lane , inane, plane,
':'~11e, w,~11 e , 1;roL1ne! hu1~1cane 1 l~·C., <le1gn, arraign, campaign, &c.,
feign, re ign, ~.c., vcrn, rem, _&c. Alluwahlc rhymes, lean, mean, &c.,
queen, see n, &.c., ban, can, &c., den, pen, &c.

Calve, halve, salve, valve.
;\ i\I.
Am, dani, hani , pnni, ram , s:-un, crnrn, dr;irn, fl:im , sharn~ swam ,
l'e1fu:t rl11;111cs , darnn, larnb . JlllowaV/e
rAymes, <lainc, l:une, 4.\:c.

epigram, anng-nun, &c.

AME.

Blame, ca.inc , dame, sanic, flame, fatnc, franic, game, Jrunc, nam e ,
AINT .
&a.me, sh an1e;, inflarne, bccarne, dcfiunc, n1i s1iau1L' , 111i s b e ca1ne, over·
Fai~t, pain t , pl~int, quaint', saint, taint, acquaint, att.a int, complain~ •
came, &c. Pe1fccl rhymes , ni111, c l<iim, maim , accloi111 , declaim , e x ·
constraint, r_estramt, &c. 1 c1fcct rhy11te, feint. Allowable rhymu, ~~i~ elaim, proclaim, reclaim . / 11/ownblc rhymes, dam, ham, <-~c., h e m ,
cant, pant, &c., lent, rent, <~c .
.,
_ Uwm 1 &.c., tl1c111e, sche111c , S c., drc a 111 , glc11111 , & c.

Alll, see AH.E.
AISE, see AZE.

Al\ll'.
cramp, damp, stamp, vamp, lamp, clamp, decamp,

AIT, see ATE.
AITH, see A TH.
AIZE, see AZE.

AN .
Bnn, can, <lnn, 11111n~ nan, pan, ran, tn.n, van, bran, plan , scan , span,
. than, unman, fOre ·ran, began, trepan, courte san, partisan, artisan,
pelican, caravan, &c . /Jllowrtble rhyrnes, Lane, cane, plain, mane,
&c., bean, lean, wan, swan, &c., gone, upon, <'11,c.
/\NCE .
Chance, dance, glance, lanc e, trnnce, prance, entrance, romance,
advance, mischance, complaisanc e , circu111sla11ce, cou11le nance , d elivernncc , consnnancf', disso11a11r.r, cxtra\·ag·ancc , i g JHl r an c e , inhf'rita11cf',

AKE.
Ake, bake, cake, lake, make, quake, rake, sake, tak e , wake , brake;
drake, ~ak e , s hak e, snake, s1"ke, strakc, spake,;, wo.ke, Le take, fur.
s~ke, mistake, partake, overtake, undertake, Lespake . l'ei:fect rliymt1,
b1eak, s lf'ak, &c. Allowable 1·ftymcs, back, rack, &c., Leck , deck _
"'<l:.c., Fipenk, weak, &c.
'
j\ L.
mainte nancC', 1c111perancc, internpPrance, e ."torhitan c r , ordin;-in cc, cnnCabal, canal , anima_I, admirnl , .canni_hal., capital , r ., rdinal , comicnl, ~~I!-~,=- Cor<lan cr', s 11fli ·ra11cc, susle n :rn cc, ullc ra n.,c, arr oga n c e , v igihtn cc, c xco11111
s,al
c,orp 1 na I .· cr11111I:a ] , cr_1 1.ic.i I . (cs ti val, fun r r;il, gr 1H' ra) h ospi•
pnnse , e nlr;u1c e .
•.
·"".> '
,
1
Al\ Cll .
ta! , rnf Pr va l, lrl11'.rot! , madrigal, li te ral, 111 agic al , 111 i1 ](' ral , 1111 st ical, mu•
Ilrn nclr . sl:rnc lr , lan c h. ld a 11 clr, ra 11clr , lr arn·.lr
A I C <~l : n11!11r;~I , nn _
!_!"l!lal , r.as toral) 111 'd cs t tl, pPrs on a l, 1 d 1 \· ,c;ic~d . poet ical
1
launc h, l"'u11 c l1.
p o l1t1 cal, pr111c1p;tl, prodigal, j'roplietical, rational, s;ifiiical, reciproc nl
rhetoric.al , SC\' Cral, temporal, tra g ical, tyrannical, carnival, schismnli:
A i\U .
c~l, wh 1111s1ca l, arsenal. Jlllownblc rhymes, a ll , ball, &c., ail, mail, ~~~-= And, band , hand, land, rand, sand, brand, hlancl , grand, ri:land , stand ,
&c., ale, pale , &c.
1lrnnd, c n111111a11d , de111an<l, c1>111 tll'rn1and, di s band, cxpa11d, withsla11d ,
ALU.
un<lersla11cl , rf'pri11ra11rl, conlraharul , ,\c . .'li/mca/1/c 1!11;111 cs, wa11d ,
. Bald, scn ld, emernld , &c. Prrfccl rhym es, th e prd crits and parti·
fond, bn11d, ,\.c., and the preterits and prtrliciplos of urus in ain llnrl
ciples of verbs in all, au!, and awl , as calle d, maul e d, cra\\' led , &c. ·
ean, as rclllai11cd , leaned, &c.
ALE, se c AIL.
i\i'\ I: , sPr, J\ IN.

ALF.
Calf, half, behalf, t.\'..c .

J\ N(;_

.flllnu.Jnldc rhynit:s, staff, laugh, ,\sc .
ALT(.

Ualk, chalk, stalk, talk, walk, calk, &c .

•llllowablc rhy1nes , sock, clock , (_~-c.
J\ LL.

P cifc ct rhyme, hawk.-

~II, lmll, .c nll, <'·<c. .l'rifcct rhymes, ca w!, Lta1rl, brawl, crawl, scrawl,
sprawl, squ.tl. l lllownlile 1hymes, cabal, C']lll\' Oc al, & c. Sec AL.
ALi\l.

~all~'. bal'.1;,_

becalm, psalm,.palm,cmbnlm, ,\- c ., 1rlwscpl11ralsand -==::tE=:
thndz,osuno singular rhyme wzth alms, as calm s, becalms, &c .
,

Bang, 1":111 :..: , l!;111g . l1a11g·, pa11 g- , tan:.; , 1.wan t-; , s an g , ran g, harang ue ,
clang. Jlllu1ra.hlc rhylllcs , song, lu11g, &c .

J\ NU E .
Ch:in gf', ![ ranrrr, rn.ngf' , f'lrangr , rstrangf', ~rran g- e, e xcha11 g 0, intcrChnt1 g P.
,!///ou'rt/J/r, 1-/1!1 1fl.f'S~ Tl'\'l ' ll!ft', HVL' lt l! (', ,\, c.
i\ N K ·
Rank , bbnk, s hank, cLu 1k , d a nk , dra nk , s lank , fran k , sp a nk, olilll k,
lank, plank, !'rank, rank , thank, disra11k, 111ou11te bank, & c.
J\NSE, srr J\ NC E .
ANT .
Ant, cant, chant, grant, pant, plan t , rant, s lan t , aslant, com p lai sant ,

,I'
I I~

rttt·

f'j

11

•·'

I

c.

--

---- - - · ---·---------·
262

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

n e'er, e lse wh ere, w h ;i.te'er, how e'f.' r, howsoe 'c r, whcne'er,
here'er, &c., heir, co he ir, th e ir. .!lllowable rhymes, bar, car, &c .,
err, prefer, and h ere, h ear, &c., regul a r, s ingular, war, &c.

displant, enchant, gallant, implant, recant, supplant, transplant, absonant, adamant, arrogant, combatant, consonant, cormorant, protestant,
significant, visitant, covenant, dissona_n t, di spu t~r1t! ele~a nt, el_epha~t,
exorbitant, conversant, extravagant, ignorant, 111s1g111ficant, 111hnb1t.
ant, militant, predominant, sycophant, vi~ilant, pr.tulant, &c . .Ill/ow•
able rhymes, faint, paint, &c. Sec AIN'l and ENT.

AP.

.'

AHES.

Rhymes, theirs, and the plnrnls nf nouns and third . 71crsinguhir of verbs in are, air, eir, car, as care, he cares, pair, he
pairs, heirs, bear, he benrs, &c. The rillowable rhymes are the plurals
ef rwuns mul the tkird persons singular nf 1Jerbs which are allowed to
rhyme with the termination ars, as bar s , cars, errs, prefors, &c.
ARF.
Scarf. Allowable rhymes, dwarf, wharf.
Unaware s.

lon1
-.,

Cap. gap, hap, lap, map, nap, pap, rap, sap, tap, chap, clap, trap;,
flap, kn ap, slap , snap, wrap, scrap, strap, en wrap, e ntrap, mishap, &c.
Allowable rhymes, cape, tape, &c., cheap, heap, and swap.

APE.

·~

Ape, cape, chape, grape, rape, scrape, s h ape, escape,
tape, &c. Jlllowable rhymes, heap, keep, &c.
APH, see AFF.

ARGE .
large , discharge, o'ercharge, surclrnrge, enverge, emerge, g orge, forge, urge, &c.

APSE.

ARK.

Lapse, elapse, re lapse, perhaps, and the 71lurals of nnuns and third ;~·~~ Bark, cark, clark, dark, lnrk, mnrk, park, s hnrk, spark, stark, e111 p ersons singular nf the present tense in ap, as ca ps, 111 aps, &c., he saps,_ -"'~ll'IL..
"Jl/010ab/e rhym es, cork, fork, &c.
h e laps, &c. Allowable rhymes, the plurnls '~f 1<01Lns and t/nrd perAH.L.
sons singular of verbs in ape and eap, as apes, he apes, heaps, be -Snarl, marl, par!. .tlllowable rhymes, c url, furl, &c.
heaps, &c.

APT.

:11...

ARM.

Apt, adapt, &c., rhymes, the preterits a.nd participles of the 'llerbs i~ '.
ap, as tapped, slapped, &c . .!lllowablc rhymes , the preterits and pn:·ti- cciplcs of the verbs in ape, as aped, escaped, &c.

harm, alarm, disarm.
&c.

AR.

'~

,

Barb, gnrb, &c.

:i~'

·'..ll1

ARN .
.l]//owable rhymrs, warn, forewarn, &c ., horn ,

.~··
y;

':~

:

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lI

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~:-:

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1''..

ARSlL

,r

ARCE .
.illluwablc rh!Jmc, scarce .

Alli::.

.t
i
!

I-larsli , ni;n sh, &c .

AR T.
Art, ~ art , d'1.rt, hut , mnt, J>"-rt, s 111ut, lilrl, start, aparl, de part, imARCH .
-::..,;!Jifiii
-";;;;; part, d ispart, co1111lerpart.
Pnfecl rl11;111 cs, hP>trl , &c. .'/llownble
Arch, march, parch, starch, countermarch, &c.
~ rhymes , wart , thwart, &c ... hurt, &c., dirt, flirt, &c., pc 1t, &c.
·--=:3 if'='c:=:·
J\H.T (son ndl'd OW!') .
ARD.
Bard, card, guilrd, hard, lard, nard, shard, yard, hnmhnrrl, di•card,
Wnrt., thw'1.rl, &c. Pc1:fcct rlu;mr:s, short, retort, &c . Allowa/J/e
rPgard, interlard, reta rd, dis regard, &c., 1111.rl Ilic pr clrr ils 11.11il partici·
rhymes, a 1 t, 8 port, court, &c.
pies o/' 1;crbs in u, as barre d, sca rred, &c . .ill/01wNc rhymes, cord,
AH.TIT, sec EARTll.
re ward, &.c.
ARVF..
ARD .
\Yard, awa rd, reward , &c. JJlluwable rhymes , hard, card, see the
Carve, s tarv e, &c . .111/ownblc rl111111 cs, nrrv c, dr·scn·c, &c .
lost article, hoard, lord, bird, cnrd, awl the ,,,.,·tails 1111!1 1•11rtici11les of
AS.
lite r'l'.rl1s ,:11, nr, or, and 11r, 11. 8 ltarn ~ d, 1ddton1~d, it11'.llt"t'd, & c~ .
Wns. .rlllrnrrr/J/r rhy111r.<, h'1.s, nq.
Farce , parse, i\lars, &c.

;

tit

Rar, c~r, far, jar, rnar, par, tar, ~par, scar 1 star, chair, afar, debar,.;,
ARN .
unbar, catarrh, particular, perpendicular, sec u Jar , angular, regular, popular, singular, titular, vinegar, sci 1ue tar, calendar, colander. Per·
Pe1Ject rhymes, h o rn, morn, &c. /tllowablc rhymes,
f eel rhyme, the plural verb are. • .!lllowahle rhymes, bare, pr~pare, &c., , ~;:ii~~
pair, re pair, we ar, tear, war, t\',c., and w01·ds ending in er or or , harr
ARP.
ing the accent on the last syllllble; or last but two .
,_ Carp, harp, sharp, counlerscar p, &c. / 1/lowablc rhyme, warp.

;ARI3.

L

·J~:

.fl_l/owablc rhymes,

I

i

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-

'-

i=lj
c__

!--

ASS .

Ilare, care, dare, fare, hare, mare , pare, tar e , rnrc, w are , flare, glare,
]a:::s, ma ss, pa ss, ala s, ama ss, c111rn_~s, rescare, s hare , s nare, spare, square, stare, S\·v ar e , pre pare , a\·r are, he· .-:::::~l!f~- Ass , brass, cla ss, gra ss ,
_ :~ pass, su rpa ;s , morass; &c. /]l/owa.blc rhym es, base, face, deface, &c.,
ware , compare , declnrc, ensnare. l'c1fcrt rhymes, air , fair, hair, lnir,
""._:. . ____ losa, toss, &c .
pair, c hair , sta ir , affair, <le bonnair, d e~ pair, i111pair, re pnir, &c ., bear,
ASE, sec ACE.
pear, s we ar, tear, wear, forbear, forswear, &,c., there, were, where,

=
~

~.

:~

-=OF=-

11"

I

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;f•

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264

AIDS TO

ENGL I SH COMPOSITION.

ASH.
.o.
Ash, cash, dash, clash, crash, flash, ga s h, gnash, hash, lash, plash, ·
rnsh, thrirnh, slash , trash, abash, &c. .!Jllo10a.l;{c rhymes , wash, qulllh,
&c., leash, &c.

Nearly peifect rhymes , eight, w eight, he ig h t,
t·!tymcs 1 beat , h e at, &c., bat, cat, &c., be t , wet,

ATH.

ASH.
Wash, quash, &c.

Ask, task, bask, cask, flask, mask.
ASP.
As p , clasp, gasp, grasp, hasp.

J} /lu1cablc rhymes, w asp, &c.

AST.
Cast, last, blast, mast, past, vast, fast, aghast, avast, forecast, over•
cast, outcast, repast. P erfect rhymes, the preterits and participle• o
verbs in ass, as c lassed, amassed, &c. .!lllowable rhymes, the pretcriLI
and parti ciples of verbs in ace, as p laced, &c. Nuu ns and vcrba i•
aste, 118 taste, waste, &c.

ASTE.
llaste, chaste , haste, paste, taste , waste, distaste. Perfect rhymu, _ .,
waist, and the p7'clcrils and 11articiplcs of 1Jcrbs in ace, as foced , placed, ;·
&c. .!lllowable rhymes, cast., fast, &c., bPst., nest, &f'.., and the preltr•
its and participles of verbs it. ess, as messed, d resse d , &c.

AT.
At, bat, cat, hat, fat, mat, pat, rat, sat, tat, vat, brat, chat, fla t, plat, ·
sprat, that, gnat. .llllowable rlu1mcs, bate , hale, &.c .

ATC II .
C atc h, match , hatch, latc h, patch , s cratc h, smatch, s na t ch , desp.alch.
ATE.
f\atP, 1fatc , fate, gate, grnte, hate, tate, mate, p'1te, plalP, prate , rale 1
sale, stale, scate, 8late, abate, be late, collate, crea te, rlchatc, elate, di·
late, estate, in g rate, innate, rebate , rt>late, sed a te, translate, abdicate,
abominate, alJrog-atP , accel e rat P, accn111rnrnlatf' , aceu111ulat P, accurnit' 1
adeq11at c, afTl·clionalf', ad v n c::it 1~, adulter;lfJ', ::1g~·ravatP, ngi l atc, 11.licn•

c::================~·~ ''
c::=======ni,,,;·
= = = = =W'1;;:::

j

..r ,;·: .,

ilr ' ::
i

~

t :-

Hlt
":'H

'~; ~

. ~n

c~~~~~~~i;i:fm
.~mr.

r

c:===============:lfrt: ~r
c:==========J.!i> »[:'

L

.!lllowable rhymes, hath, fai th, &c.

.!lllowab/c rhymes, cash, dash, &c.

ASK.

a t..-, an imate , annihi latP , an1Pdat.e . anl icipalP, ant.iqualP, arbitrate, or.
rogate, articulate, assassinate , calculate , capitulate, c aptivate , cele·
brat~, circulate , coag ulate, cu 11 11 nemorate, c o111tuis('rate, cu1111nunicntc,
co111pasHiunate, conl(:dcratP , c n11 g rat11la t~·, cr n1 uTPg al.1.', co11sr·cra lc, con·
t a rninate , corroborate, cultivaLP , c amlidate, cnupcrate , cc librate, consid·
e rate , cons ulate, capacitate, debilitate , dcdica tr', rlcgc nernle, delcgnle 1
del ibe rate , de nominate , depopulate , dislocate, deprecalf', di scliminnte,
derogate, dissipate , de licate , di sconsnla tr, des olate , desperate, educate,
effe111inate, elevate, e 1nulate, es tirn ate, clalH1rale, eq 11 i vocate, erad icate,
evaporate , ex agge rate, exaspe rate, cxpuslubtc, cxtPrlllinatc, extricate,
fac ilitate, fortunate, general<', g-ratnlate, ill' silate, illiterate, illuminate,
irritate , i1nitate, inn nnd e rat c, inqwtratP~ imp ortunat e, impreca te, inan·

imate, innovate, instigate, inlP 111perate, i11l i111ate , inlin1idate, intoxi·
cate, intricate, invalidate, i11vc lcra l1', inv inlai<', 1Pg it i111at,,, mag islrnte1 incd i l.a_lt~ , rnitig:a lf', rn1Jd1·ratc. ll<'•T ~s i t alt•, J1(1111i11alc , ol1~1i11nk, pnrti ci•
p ate, paesio nntc , 1'"11"1ralc, pi·r pdrntc•, prrs< J11 all', p<>ll'ntalt', prcci pi•
tate ~ pn'!<lestina te, pre duniinate, pre 1neditate , pre varicate, procra stinate 1
profligatf', prng'n n~ticn t e, prnp;1~at<', rccri111i11;lf(', rcgenf'ratC', rPg ul ale,
reiterate , reprobate , reverberate, ruminate, sPparate, sophisticate , stipulate, subjugate, subordinate, su!fucate, term inate, to lerate , te mpernte 1
vind icate, violate , unfortunate. I't1fect rhymes, bait, plait, strait,

265

ATIIE.
.•.., "" Jlathe, swathe, lathe, rathe.
AUil, sec OB.
AUC I•: , see AUSE .
Al'CII, sec OACII.
AUD .
··
F'raud, laud , applaud, defraud. J'erjl:ct rhym.cs , broa d, abroad ha\rd ·
- and the preter its and participles of verbs in aw , as gn a we d , 'saw<' d '.
&c. Jl/luwabl e rhymes, odd, nod , &c., ode , bode, & c.; also t!tc 1rord

loa<l.
AVE.

Cave, brave, gave, grave, cra ve, lave, nave, knave, pave, rnvP,
· ··- save, shave, slave, st.ave, wave, be have, depra ve, engrave, outbrav e,
forgave, m isgave , arclutrave. .llllowable r!tyme, lite auxiliary verb

have.
J\UGIJ, see AFF.
AUGHT , see UUGllT .
i\ ULT, sC'e A LT.
A lii\'CIT .
Launch, paunch, haunch , s tanch, &c .
At;NCE, Sl'C 0.\SE.
AUNT .
Aunt, dannl, gaunt, hau nt , jaunt , taunt, v a un t, a\·aun t. l'ufcct
rhym es, slant, aslan t. .,9//01c11/Jlc rhymes, 1rnnt, &c., pant, cant, &c .
.\ i ;s1:.
Cause, pau se, clouse, appJo11,(', l1c·ra11sC'
l'nfcrt 1hymrs, the plurels of nmtn8, our/ third pt·r.r;, ·011s singular of 1'crbs 1n aw, as laws, he
drnws, &c. .!J/lmwfdc rl11; 111 c, "'""· ·
AUt:i'l', se e OST.
A \V.
Cra w, daw , law, c1 iaw , c l:nv , drnw , flnw, gnaw, j aw, la\v, rnaw,
paw, ra\v, saw, stra\v, tha w, withdraw, fu resa\v.
A WU, ste e AlJll.
l\W J\ , S('C i\LK .
J\ \VL.
llaw l, hr.awl, draw l , cra wl, scrnll'I , s pra wl, sr1uall. l'rifrrt rhyme.<,
ball, call , fall , gall, Slll all, hall, pall , tall, wa ll, stall, ins ta ll, forestall,
U>rr.ll , i11thrall.
A \\'N .
Dawn, brawn, fawn , pa1Y11 , spawn, drawn, yaw11, lawn, w ith dra wn .
AX.
Ax, t ax, w ax, relax, Jlax. l'c1Ject rhymes, th e z1lurnls of nouns,
'11d tli1rd pers o11 s .s111gu/ar nf urb8 in ack, as back s, sacks , &c., he
lacks , li e pack s, &c. .'111011.·ah/e rh y m cs, the plurals of nouns, and
23

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•

~ \!".,

l
~)~;

.

11;

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266

1ear~en, foreseen, serene, obscene, te rreJl(",

third persons singular of verbs in ake, as cakes, lakes, &c., he maket,
h e takes, &c.

·

AY.
Bray, clay, day, dray, tray, flay, fray, gay, hay, jay, lay, may, nay,
pay, play, ray, say, way, pray, spray, slay, spay, stay, stray, sway, ar.
fray, allay, array, astray, away, be lay, bewray, betray, decay, defray,
delay, disarray, display, dismay, essay, fore lay, gainsay, inlay, relay,
repay, roundelay, virelay. l'c1fccl r!tymcs, neigh, weigh, inveigh,
&c., prey, th ey , convey, obey, purvey, smvey, <lisobey, grey. Allcnoable rhymes, tea, sea, fee, see, glee, &c.

AZE:.
Craze, daze, blaze, gaze, glaze, maze, raze, amaze, graze. Perfut
rhymes, raise, praise, dispraise, &c., phrase, paraphrase, &c. , and th•

nouns plural, and third 71crsons singu.la,r af the present tense of verb1
in ay, e igh, and ey; as days, he inve irrhs, he obeys, &c. Allo1oabu
rhymes, ease, tease , seize, &c., and keys, the plural of key; ltlso ti1 --==-=auxiliaries has and was.

E and EA, see EE.
EACE, sec EASI':.
EACH .
Beach, brPach, bleach, each, peach , preHch . \Pach, impeach. J\'ear·
ly perfect rhymes, beech, leech, speech, beseech . Ji/lowable r!tymu1
frtch, wretch, &c.
EAD, see EDE and EE D .
EAF, see IEF.

======r---. =========~;'. .,. ~ ..

267

ENGLISH COMPOSITION .

AIDS TO
f~wable

l\_-_,c ., flllCf'tl, srlecn , (\'c,
rhymes, bane, mane, &c., ban, man, &c ., bin, thin, begin,

EANS, sec ENSE.
!~ANT, ~cc E:NT.
EA I', see EEP anti El'.
EA ll, SC(' E EiC
EAIU).
lleard, herd, sherd, &c. Pe1:fect 1-/11;111.es, the prclmits and pa,.ti("i·
pies of verb.< in er, rts e rred , prC'frrrcd, & .c. .fl//mcuhlc rhymes, beard ,
the 71rcforits uni/. 7w1ticiplcs of vcrlis in ere, ear, and ar, as revered,
feared, barred.
EAHCI!.
Search, perch, research. Jl/lowable rhymes, ch urch, smirch, lurch ,
parch, march, &c .
EA HL.
Earl, pearl. Pc1:fcct rhyme, girl, &c. Jlllvwable rhymes, snarl,
marl, churl, forl, &c.
EA RN, sec J: H N.

EA ltSE, sec EHS I~.

EAllT, see A RT .
EARTll.

Earth , dearth. Perfect rhymes, birth, rnirt.h, <ll:c. Jlliow11ulc rhymes,
hearth, &c.
EASE, snnnclcrl EACE.
Cease, }pa~r, releasP, grPasc, dpc.pase , dc crf'ase , increase~ release,
EA GU K
1urcC'ase . l'c1fcrt rhyme , peace. .1Ycarl11 perfi:rl r!ty111cs 1 piece, niece,
League. league, &c. Pcifcct rlu1mcs, intrigu e , fatigue, &c.
fleece, geese , f'routispiec e , apiece, &,c. ,qUmcovlc rhymes, less, mess,
able rhynies, Hague, vague, t~c., leg, beg , &c., bag, rag, '--Ye.
&c., Jaee, 1nace, '-~c., n1iss : hiss, ,i\~_,c., nice, vice, "-\r_,c.
EAK . Sl'I' /\K E .
EASLI, SC(' ESII.
Heal<. speak, Lleak, creak, fre;tk, leak, peak , sneak, squeak, slleak, EAST.
w ea k, tweak, wreak, bespeak. J\'wr/11 fJCl;Jcc i r!ty111rs, cheek, leek,
East
,
ff>ast,
J,,ast
,
beast.
l'c1:fi•rt
rl111111rs, I.lie 1u·rfcrifcs and portiricrcck, mcc I1, rec l1, sce 1,1, sleek, pique, week, shriek . .'illuwable rhyine.1 1, -..,.>;~,.-- ,
Leck, speck, &c ., lake, take, thick, lick, &c .
pies ~f wrl1s i11 Past> , rt s ccrtsPcl, increas e d, &c.. ,,\-('!1rly pnfcci r!tv111c,
priest.. J/ 11011:0/1/c r/111111cs, haste, taste, ,\r,, licst, chest, &c ., fist. list,
EAL .
&c., n11d t!tc 111·rtarits a11d. prtrtici11lcs '!/' n :1/J s in ess mul iss, ns
Dc<J.I, heal, reveal, meal, peal, se;t!, st.c<J.I, tc ctl, ve al, wen.I, zeal,
dressed, his sed , ,l\:c.
E1\T.
sq11c<J.I, rcpc ccl, cunce'll, con ge al , an11cal, :i l'l'""I. J\ 'eurf 11 71ccfcct rhymu,
eel, heel, foe!, J;eel, kneel, peel, reel, stf'l'I, wheel. Allowable rhymu 1
Bleat, cal, f('at. beat, mea t., n c al , scat. , treat , "'he at, lic<J.I, ch e al,
be ll, tell, &c., bale, tale, &.c, bill, fill, &c , ail, fail, &c.
defeat, f'~trr·at ) escltPat., entreat , n:: trcal. l 'r1ftd rl1!Jmcs, obsol e te , reJ>lcl.e, concrcl1', co111pl e te . .1\'n1rly 11n:(r1·t rl111111cs, fi cl. , fll'et., gle!'l,
EALi\I, see 1-: Ll\l.
=~I:;::::.. greet, 111eet, Hiicc l.' sleet, strt'd,, 81\<"ct., discn·_ct. /Jllozcublc rhymes ,
E A I.TH.
bate, great, bate , 1..\c., get, Jllcl, "\i:. , Int, !Jit , '-\:c. See A'rE.
liealtli , weallh, stea lth, c orn1J1t'11wealt11, ,\:c.
EJ\Tll.
EAl\I.
Breath, death , ,\~c. /Jllow 11/1/c rl111111rs, heat. Ii, she ath , teeth.
Tirran1 ~ ~r~~:i.m, g lcrun , searn, sc rPa111, ~~ff'arn, s!.rrrirn, team, hr. a.mt
l :i\T I 11: .
drC':tllL Pc1:ff!cl rnymr;s, plil"g-rn, scilf'.llH', U]['tllf' , ld:1~plwnH', <'Xt.rcma, Breathe, sheathe, ,\: c. l'N/i·.:t r/11111,,'S, 1vr<':tth , in wrr'a t.h. lil'<JllCn th,
sup rernc. Nearly 1rn1)i·cl rliy111rs, •ke111, IP•·111, hcs""'"• rnisdeem, e
beneath, underne;1th , &c . . Yearl11 pnfccl rhynu:s, seetlie, ,\:c.
t~ern, _d isesl.eP rn, ~·edee111, seem, &c.
.!11/owuMc rh.11mcs, da111e, lnmt 1
&c., lunb, lu111 , &c., them, hem, &c., !<J.mb, dam, &c. See AME. _
EA\'!':.
CleavP~ heave , iulerwcn.vc, leave, \\·cave, LcrC'ave, irnYcave. I' crEAN.
fttl rhy1ncs, rPcc ive , conceive, dcct~ ivc, perceive . J\~ca.rl!t pc1ftcl
Henn , ;te~n, dean, glean , ]('an, lllPrtn, ''.'f';-in, yC'nn, ?emean, un·
rhymes, eve , grie1·e, slee ve, thi e ve, aggrieve, achieve, belie ve, <l1succh~ n._.n.
1 n}f~Ct rh!n.n?s, convpne, dc1nesnf' , intL~rv c· nc , n11cn . ]'{early
]Jerjcct r!tvmes, n1aclune, keen, scree n, secu, green, spleen, betweco 1
1

-r:;;

~~~~~~~:fi.t~[

1

268

ENGLISH · COl\IPOSlTION.

AIDS TO

lieve, relieve, reprieve, retrieve. .11.llowable rhymes, give,
lave, cave, &c., and have.
EIHl.
Ebb, web, &c. Allowable rhymes, babe, astrolabe, &c., glebe, &c,
.
ECK.
Ilcck, nC'ck, check, deck, speck, wreck. Allowable
take, &c., beak, sneak, &c.
ECT.
Sect, abject, alfect, correct, incorrect, collect, deject, detect, direct,
disrespect, disaffect, dissect, effect, elect, eject, erect, expect, indirect.,
infect, inspect, neglect, object, project, protect, recollect, reflect, reject, respect, select, subject, suspect, architect, circumspect, dialect,
intellec t.
Perfect rhymes, the preterits and participles of verbs i11
eek, as decked, checked, &c. .!Jllowable rhymes, the preterits an4 . :,
pnrticiples of verbs in ake and eak, as baked, leak ed.
.
ED.
Bed, bled, fed, fled, bred, led, red, shred, shed, s ped, wed, abed, in·
bred, misl ed. Pc1fect rh.ymcs, said, bread, dread, <lead, head, lead,
read, spread, thread, tread, behead, o 'e rspread . .!Jllownble rhymu,
bead, mead, <'lie., blade , fade, &c., maid, paid, &c., and the preterill ."
and participles of verbs in ay, ey, and eigh, as bayed, obeyed, veighed,
&c.
EDE, see EED;
EDGE.
Edge, wedge, fledge, hedge, ledge, pledge, sedge, allege. .!Jllmca·
ble .rhymes, age, page, &c., sie,g~, oblige, &c ., privilege, sacrilege,
sortilege.
EE.
Bee, free , g lee, knee, see, three, thee, tree, agree, decree, degree,·
disagree, foresee, o'ersee, pedigree, he, me, we, she, be , jubilee, lee,
Ncarly p e1:fcct rhymes, sea, plea, flea , ten, key. .llllowahlc rhymes, all
words of one syllrthlc ending in y, ye, or ie , or pol11syllaulcs 1~f' theH
terminations having t!te accent on the ultimate or antcpcnultimate 1yl·
/able .
EECE, see EASE.
EECH, see EACH.

EER.
Deer, deer, fl ee r, gcer, jee r, peer, meer, leer, she~r, steer, ~neer,
cheer, veer, pic ker, domin eer, ca nnon er, compee r, engmee.r, mutmee r,
· pioneer, pl'iv t:teer, charioteer, chanticleer, .caree r, mountameer. l'er/ett rhymes, here, sphere, adhere , cohere, mlerfere, perse vere, revere,
, austere, severe , sincere, hemisphere, <.'Ice., ear, clear, dear, fear, hear,
near, ~cnr smear, spear, tear, rear, year, appear, bes mea r, disappear,
" endear, at:c1.ioneer . .llllowable rhymes, bare, dare, &c., prefer, deter,
,. ehnrnclcr, &c.
EESE, see EEZE.
EET, see EAT.
EETH, see EATH.
EEVE, see EAVE.
EEZE.
Ilrceze , free ze, whe eze, sneeze, squ eeze, and the plurals of nouns,
~ Intl third p erson s singular, prcsm t tcnse , of verbs in ee, as bees , he
tees. Perfect rhymes , cheese, these, &c . .Nearly pr.rfect rhymes,
·• ease, appease , di sease, di spl ease, tease, seize, &.c., and the plurals of
• nouns in ea, as leas, picas, &c., o.nd the 7JOlysyllables ending in es, having !he accent on th e antcpcnultimate, as images, monarchies, & c.
Ef'l' .
Cleft, Je ll, th eft, wcrt, ucreft .&c. .flllowa.blc rhymes, lift, •ift, &c.,
ind the third p ersons singulltr, present tense, o.f verbs in afe, aff, a ugh,
·· : ind iff, as chafed, quaffed, lau ghed, whiffed, &c.
EG.
.f:l.llowable rltyines, vague, plague, &c., leagu e,

EIGH, see AY.
EIGHT, see ATl·~EIGN, see AIN.
EIL, sec Al L.

EIN , see
see
see
see
see

EINT,
El Lt,
El'I',
EIVE,

EED.
Creed, deed, indeed, bleed, breed, feed, heed, meed , need,
speed, seed, steed, weed , proceed, succeed, exceed. Pc ~frct rh.yme1,
knead, read, intercede, precede, reced e, concede, impede, s upersede,
,'\cc., bead, lead, nwad, plead, & c . .llllmmblc rhyme s, Led , dL"ad, &c.,
bid, hid, &c., made, ulade, &.c.
EEF, see IEF.
EEK,
EEL,
EEM,
EEN,

see
see
sec
sec

EAK.
EAL.
EAM.
EAN .

269

AlN.
AIN'l'.
AllE.
EAT.
EAVE.

ElZE, see EEZE.
ELL.
~
Ell, dwell, fe ll. hPll , k110ll , ']ll<'ll, sell, lic ll, c e ll, disp el, foretell, ex 8
-.::: eel, compel, li efo ll , y<' ll, w!'Jl, te ll, swe ll , spell, S111cll, s licll , p:trall l'l,
- . ) enlinel, infid e l, citadel, refeJ, repe l, rebel, impel, expel. Jlllowable
- ,~ymes, bale, sale, &c., heal , peal, &c., eel, steel, <Ve .
..
ELD.
__ Held, ge lcl , w ilhhPlcl , uph eld, l.Jehcld , &c. l'c1fl'ct rl111111 cs, the p rc....::_ terits and participles of -verbs i n ell, as swelled, frllccl, <\:c . .!lllo tl'rl ·
•1~ rhymes , the pret erit s and pnrticiples nf verb s in al e, ail, &c ., heal,
·· eeal, &c ., as e111palcd, wailed, &.c., healed , scaled, &c.
,

.

EEP.
Creep, deep, s lee p, keep, pcl'p, sheep, s leep, sw<'Pp, wPep, asleep. ~~'E=,::.
Nearly ptrfcct rhymes, cheap, heap, neap, &c. .'1.lluwablc rhyme#,
ELF.
ape, rape, &c., step, nep, &c., hip, lip, &c.
Elf, pelf, self, shelf, him sel f, &c.
23•

,/

, ..,_____

--•·-- ------~·&-~•M--Qf

270

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

ELK.

ENDS.
· Amends. Perfect rhymes, the phtrnls of noun_s, and third pers~ns
lingular, J?resent tense, of verbs in e nd, as ends, friends, he mends, &c.
'
ENE, see EAN.
·
ENGE.
Avenge, revenge , &c.
ENGTH.
Length, strength, &c.
ENSE, sounded ENZE.
Cleanse. Perfect rhymes, the plurals of nouns, and third persons
ringular, present tense, of verbs in en, as hens, fons, he pe ns, he ken.s ,

Elk, whelk, &c.
ELl\f.
Elm, helm, realm, whelm, overwhelm, &c.
palm, Ii.Im, &c.

ELP.
H elp, whelp , yelp, &c.

ELT.
Belt, gelt, melt, felt, welt, smelt, pelt, dwelt.
ELVE.
Delve , helve, twelve, &c.
ELVES.
Elves, the mselves , &c. P c1fect rhymes, the plurals of nouns
third p ersons singular of verbs in elf and elve, as twelves, delve11
shel ves, &c.
EM.
Ge m, hem, stem, them, diad em, stratagem, <'\cc. l'c1fect rli?J111U1
condemn, contemn, &c. .flllowable rhymes , lame, tame, &c., team,
seam, th eme, phlegm, &c.
EME, see EAM.
EMN .
Condemn, contemn, &c. P erfect rhymes, gem, hem, &c.
able rhymes, lame, tame, &c., team, seam, &c.

au

&c.

ENT.
· Bent, Jen t, rent , pent, scent, se nt, shent, spent, tent, vent, went,
absent, meant, ascent, assent, nttent, nugmen.t, ce ment! conlen_t, content, descent, disse nt, event, ex te nt, foment, frequent, md e rrt, mlent,
Invent lam e nt miss pent, o'erspent, present, prevent, relent, repent,
resent' ostent ferment outwent, underwent, discontent, unbent, circumv~nt , re p;ese nt, abstinent, accident, accomplishment, admonishi;;ent acknow led crm e nt, aliment, arbitrament, argument, banishment,
battl~ment blandishment, astonishment, armipotent, bellipotent, he·
nevolent, ~hastise m e nt, competent, compliment, com plement, confident continent corpulent, detriment, different, diffident, diligent, disparagement, ddcument, eleme nt , e loque nt, e~ninent, eqni~nl ent, establitthment e vide nt excellent, excrement, exigent, ex penment, firmament, fr~udule nt, 'government, e mb~ lli sh_me nt, imn:iinent, . impe~itent,
impertinent, imple ment, impote nt, !mpnso.nm_e ~t, 11npi;-ov~d e nt, 1!'11pudent, incident, incompe tent,, incontme nt, rn?1fiere nt, ~nd1ge nt, 1_nno·
.cent," insolent, instrument, irrevere nt, 1:111gu1shment, ligame nt, lmea·
ment, magnificent, management, rn e dicame~t, malecon_te nt , monu. ment, negli gen t , nourishment , nutrime nt, occident, ~ mrnpo te nt ~ opu' lent, orname nt, parli a ment, pe nitent, pnmanent, p~ rt1n e nt , president,
precede nt, pre valent, provide nt, p un1 s hm e n~, rav1shme.n t, regime nt,
resident, redolent, rudime nt , sacrame nt, se dime nt , se ntim e nt, settlement, subsequent, suppleme nt , intelli ge nt, te_ne me nt, _te mpe ram ent,
testame nt tourn ament, turuule nt , vehement, v10lent, viru le nt, reverent. /llldwa ble rhymes, paint, saint, &c.
ENTS.
. Accoutrements. P erfect rhymes, tire plurnls of nouns, and third
persons singular, present tense, of verbs in ent, as sce nts, he asse nts,

EMPT.
T e mpt, exempt, attempt, contempt.

EN.

'.'.

271

Den, he n, fen, ken, men, pen, Le n, the n, when, wren, denizen.
lo wable rhymes, bane, fane, &c., mea n, bea n, &c.
ENCE.
Fence, hence, pe nce , thence, whence, defe nce, expe nse, offence,
prete nce, co mm ence, abstinence, circumfere nce, conference, confi·
de nce, co nseq uence, contine nce, bene1·0 Jence, concup isce nce, dilTer•
e nce, di fl1 de nce, dilige nce, eloquence, em in ent".e 1 e vid e nce, exce ll ence,
impe nite nce , imper tine nce, impote nce, impudence , improvidence, in·
co ntin e nc e , indiffe re nce, indige nce , indolen ce, infere nce, intelligence,
innocEncc, 111ug nifi cc nce, munifice nce, ll C'g ligc nce, ornnipotcncc, pen· ~··
itence , prefe re nce, providence, reco111pense, refe re nce , resi de nce , reY•
e rence, ve heme nce, viole nce. P erfect rh ymes , se nse , dense, censt 1
cond ense , immense, intense, propense, di spense , su~pense, prepcnae1
incense, frankincense.
ENCE-I.
Bench, drench, retrench, quench, clench, stench, tench,
we nch, wrench, intrench.
END .
Be nd, mend , blend, end, fend, le nd , rend, se nd, spend, tend, vend,' ·.
amend, attend, asce nd, commend, contend, defend, depe nd, desc·e nd 1 ·
·di str.rul, expPnd, Px te111I , forcfe nd, impe nd , rni Rs pc nd , obtc11d , offend, .
porte nd, pre lc nd , prof c rrd, sus1Hmd, trarrnccnd , unucnd, apprehrnd 1
comprehend, conde sce nd, discom mc n<l, recom mend, reprehend, divi• ~
de nd, reve re nd. Perfect rh ymes, fri end , befri e nd, and the prettrill
and participles of verbs in en, as penn ed, kenned, &c . ./.lllowable
rhymes, the preterits and participles of verbs in ean, as, gleaned,
yeane d, &c.
J

&c.
,
'''.Step, nep, &c.

EP .
.llllmcable rhym es , leap, reap, &c ., rape , tape, &c.

EP'l'.
~

•

Accept, ade pt, exce pt, intercep t, & c. P_c1fecl rhymes , crept, slep.t,
wept, ke pt. Jl llowable rhymes , the 71reten.ts a,~ul particles oj verbs m
ape, cop, anrl cnp, a.s peeped, rcn p1' d, shnpcd, &.c.
El UL
1
Err ave r de fer infer , deter, inte r, refer, tra nsfer, confer, pr e fer,
_ parle r~e , ml;niniste'r, wagon.e r, islande r, arbiter, characte r, villager,
• cottager, dowage r, forager, pilla ge r, voyage r, massa~re , garde ner,_slanderer flatte rer idolater, prove nd er, th eatre , am pin theatre , fore ig ner,
laven'der, mess'enger, passe nge r, sorcere r, interpreter, officer, mariner,

272

273

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COlllPOSITION.

harbinger, minister, register, canister, chorister, sophister, presbyltr,
lawgiver,! philQsopher, astrologer, loiterer, prisoner, grasshopper, utronom er, sepulchre, thunderer, traveller, murd erer, usurer. .!lll01D6'
ble rhymes, bare , care, &c., ear, fear, &c., bar, car, &c. 1 sir, fir, her,
&c.
ERCH, sec EARCH.
ERCE, see ERSE.
ERO, see EARD.
ERE see EER.
ERGE.
Verge, absterge, emerge, immerge . Perfect rhyme, dirge.
perfect rhymes, urge, purge, surge. .!lllowable
&c.
ERN.
Fern , stern, discern, concern. Perftcl rhymes, learn, earn, yearn,
&c. Allowable rhymes, barn, yam, &c., burn, turn, <.'\'.,c.
ERSE.
Verse , herse, absterse, adverse, averse, converse, di sperse, immerse, ,
perverse, re verse , traverse , asperse, intersperse , universe. Perfed ,
rhymes, amerce , coerce, &c., fierce, tic rce, pierce, <.!\r,c. Allowable •
rhymes, farce, parce, Mars, &c., purse, curse, &c.
ERT.
'Vert, advert, assert, avert, concert, convert, controvert, desert, di.'
vert, exert, e xpe rt, insert, invert, pervert, subvert. Allowable rhymu1
heart, part, &c., shirt, dirt, &c., hurt, spurt, &c.
ERVE.
Serve, nerve, swerve, preserve, deserve, conserve, observe, reserve,
tlisserve, subserve. Allowable rhymes, starve, carve, &c., c urve, &c.
ESS.
Bless, dress, cess, chess, guess, less, mess, press, stress, acquieec~,
access, address, assess, compress, confe•s, caress, depress, digress, di1·
possess, distress, excess , express, impress, oppress, possess, profe191'
recess, repress , redress, success, tran sgress, adulteress, baslifulneB11
bitterness, cheerfulness, comfortless, comeliness, dizziness, diocess,
drowsin ess, eagerness, easiness, embassadress, empti ness, evenness,
fatherless, filth iness, foolishness, forgetfulness, forwardness, froward ."
n ess , fruitfulness, fulsomeness , giddiness, greediness, gen tleness, gov• _
erness, happiness, haugh tiness, heavi ness, idle ness, heinousness, hoa· \
rin ess, holl own ess, holiness, lasciviousness, lawfulness, laziness, littleness , liveliness, loftiness, lioness, lowliness, manliness, masterless,"
mightin ess, motherl ess, motionlees, naked ness, need iness, noisome•
ness, numberless, patroness, peevishness, pe rfidiou sness, pitiless, poet·
ess, prophetess, ransomless, readin ess, righteousness , shepherdess, sor·
ceress, sordidness, spiritless, sprightliness, stubbornness, sturdine811
surliness, steadiness, tenderness, thoughtfulness, uglin ess , uneasine&11 ·
unhappin ess , votaress, usefulness, wakefulness, wantonness, weapon•
less, wariness, willingness, wilfulness, weariness, wicked ness , wilder•
ness, wretchedness, <lrunke11ncss, childishness. .lllluwable r!tymt11
mass, pass, &,c., mace, place, &c.
ESE, see EEZE.
ESH.
Fles h, fresh, refresh, thresh, afresh, mesh .
fl.ash, &c.

ESK.
Desk. Perfect rhymes, grotesque , burlesque, &c. .!lllowable rhymes,
muk, ask~
EST.
· Best, chest, crest, guest, jest, nest, p~s t, qu e~ t, res.t, test, yest, west,
arrest, nt.tcst, bequest, contest, detes t, digest, d1~es t, mv cs t, m'.Pst, n.10ltet, obtest, protest, request, suggest, unrest, mte~est, mamlest_, .&.c.
Perfect rh11mes, breast, abreast, &.c., and the prcteiiles and pa7ticiples
· of tJcrbs i1i ess, as dressed, pressed, expressed, ~!\r,c . .llllow'.'ble rhymes,
cut, fast, &c., haste, waste, &c., beast, least, &c. See EAST.
.
ET.
. Bet, jet, fret, get, le t, met, net, set, wet, whet, yet, d~bt, abe~, becet, beset, forge t, regre t, alphabet, ~mu let, a nchoret, cabmet, epithet,
parapet, rivulet, violet, counterfeit, coronet, &c. P erfect rhy1~es,
iweat, threat, &c. Alluwalilc rhymes, bate, hate, &c., beat, heat, &c.
ETCU.
Fetch, stretch, wretch, sketch, &c. Allowable rlrymes, match, latch,
&c., peach, bleach, &c.
ETE, see EA'r.
EVE, see EA VE.
EUM, see UME.
EW.
· Blew, chew, dew, brew, drew, flew, few, gre w, new, knew, hew,
Jew mew view threw yew crew, slew, anew, askew, bedew, escbe~, ren~w, r~view, :.Vithd;ew, screw, interview , &c. P erfect
1Ayme,~, blue, clue, due, cue, glue, hue , rue,_ sue, trui;' , accrue, ensu~,
endue, imbue, irnbrue, r.ursue, subdue, adieu, purlieu, perdue, rest·
due, avenue, revenue, retmue.
EWD, see EUD.
EWN, sec UNE.

.

·

EX.

Sex, vex, an nex , convex, complex, perpl ex , circurnfl.e~, and the
' plurals of nouns and third persons singular of verbs in eek, a.s
checks, he checks, &c. Jlllowable . rhymes, ax, wa.x, &c., and the
plurals ofnot1;11s and third persons $tn.gular of t•crbs in ake, ack, eak,
eke, ique, ike, &c., breaks, rakes, he takes, he breaks, racks, he
ekes, pikes, he likes, he piques, &c.
EXT.
Next, pretext, an<l the preterits and parlici]'les o.f verbs in ~~· as
yexed, peqilexed, &c. .111/owablc rhymes, the preterits and participles
Y.r;erbs in ax, as waxed, &c.
\"
EY, see AY.

ID.
Bib, crib, squib, drib, glib, nib, rib.

&to.

.llllowable rhymes, bribe, tribe,

ll:lE.
Bribe tribe scribe ascribe describe, superscribe, presc ribe, pro·
ribe, ;ubscribe, tran~cribe, in'scribe . Allowable rhymes, bib, crib, &c.
ICE.
price, rice, spice, slice, thrice, trice, advice,

· -- - ~'.1Y -

274

AIDS TO

--

275

elegy, cer tainty, sovereignty, loyalty, disloyalty, pen~lty, casualty,
ribaldry, chivalry, infamy, constancy, fealty, cavalry, bigamy, .polyg-

amy, va,cancy, inconstancy, iufancy, co111pany,. nccon1ya.ny ! <l1tlany,

ICH, see ITCH .
ICK .
Brick, sick, chick, kick, lick, nick, pick, quick, stick, thick trick
arit!1me t~c, asthmati.c, choleric, catholic, phl egmatic, heretic, rl:elorla
sc h1smat1.c, splenetic, lunatic, aste ric, politic, empiric. .flllowdU .
rhymes, like, pike, &c., weak, speak, &c.
Strict, a~dict, afllict,. c.onvict,.inflict, ~on~radict, &c. Pe1fecl rh~u
the 711·etents and parlic1ples oj verbs m JCk, as lick ed, kicked &c.
.!lllowablc rhymes, t!te preterits and participles of verbs in ike e;k 1 a
liked, le a ked, &c.
'

1

ID.
llid, chid, hid'. kid, lid'. s.lid, rid, bes trid, pyramid, forbid . .!Jllowaliu ·
rhymes, bid e, elude, parricide, &c., and the preterits and participlu f// ·
verbs in y or ie, as died, re plied , &c ., lead, bead mead deed need.
ic., and the preterits and participles of verbs in e~, as f;eed, ~greed:

c.

.,,.,..._.o'n - - - - - -- - - - -·- --- - - - --

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

entice, vice, device. Perfect rhymes,_ the nouns, ~ise, co~cise, preci•,
paradise, &c. .!Jllowablc r!ty1nes, mi ss, krRs , fu se , artifice, avarice
coc kr~trice~ bcn?fice, cicatrice, cdilic<', orifice, prejudice, precip~
sacnhce , &c., piece , fleece, &c.
·

ICT.

...... ~~·-

• .

·.t . IOE.
Bide, chide, hide, glide, !Jrid~, rid e, slide, side stride tide. wide
bride, abide, guide, aside, astride, beside, bestride betide ~onfide de!
cide, deride, divide, preside, p~ovide, sub~ide, ~isguid~, subdi;ide,·
&c.. Perfect. rhymes, the pretcri& ar;1f; participles of verbs in ie and 7
1
as died, replied, &c., and the prirtzciple sighed. /lllowable rltymu
bead, mead, &c., bid, hid, &c.
·~
IDES.
,+: ,.,~·
Ides! besides. Perfec~ ~liymc.•, t!ic plurals. of nouns and third ptr• -..
sons singular of verbs in 1?e, as tid es , !le rid es . .!Jllowablc r!ty111u, · -'..
the plU1 als of nouns and third persons suwular
of verbs in ead id Ill
0
beads, he leads, &c., kids, he bids, &c.
'
'
••

IDGE.
Bridge, ridge, abridge, &c.

I DST.

Midst, amidst, &c. l'crJ.ert. rhymes, the second person singular ttf
the present tense of verbs in 1d, as thou b1dd es t, thou hiddest, &O.

.!Jllowabl.e rhymes, the seco!ul p1·rsons singular of tlte present tcn1e oJ
verbs m 1de 1 ead, as thou 111ddest, thou readest, &c.
·

IE or Y.
By, buy, cry, die, dry,_ eye, fly_, fry, fie, hie, li e, pie, ply , pry, r;e;
shy, sly, spry, sky, sty, tie,try'.v1e,why,ally, apply, awry, bely, com•
ply, decry, ?efy, de~cry, den.r, imply., espy, outvie, outfly, rely, replJ,
s.upply, u nt1e, amphf.l'., beaut.1fy, '?erttfy, crucify, deify, di gn ify, edify,
falsify, fort1f.r : grnt1.l y, glonfy, rnc~r. mmfy, .1us tify, magni(y, rnodiry1
n:10llrf.l'., m01:t1~y. pac1.f.y, pctnry, punfy, pntrr(y, <p1alily, ratify, rectify,
sanc~rfy, sat!sfy, scan~y, s1g111fy, specify, stupi(y, te rrify , testily, veri•
fy? v1ll1fy, v1tnfy, v1v1fy, prophesy . Pe1fect rhymes, high, nigh, sigh,
thigh. .!Jllowable rhymes, bee, she, tea, sea, &c., plurisy, chemistry,
academy, apostasy, conspiracy, confederacy, ecstasy , de mocracy, em.
bassy, fallacy , legacy, supremacy, lunacy, privacy, piracy, malady,
remedy, tragedy , comedy, cosmogmphy, geography, geometry, li«l., .'

11.ranny, villany, anarchy, monarchy,. lethargy, rncend1~ry, rnfirmary,
library, salary, sanctuary, votary, auxiliary'. contrary, diary, granary,
roacmnry, urgency, infantry, knavery, live ry, recovery, robbery,
novelty, antipathy, apathy, sympathy, idolatry, galaxy, hus~andry,
cruelty, enemy, blasphemy, prophecy, clemency, dece~cy, mclem;~ ency, emergency, regency, progeny, energy, poverty_, liberty, prop•. erly, adulte ry, artery, artillery, batte~y, beggary, bnber.y, bravery,
,; dehvery, drudge ry, flattery, gallery, imagery, lotter;\', misery, mys·
ltry 1 nursery, raillery, slavery, sorcery, treacher;Y, discovery, tapestry majesty modesty immodesty, honesty, dishonesty, courtesy,
be:esy, poesy, poetry,' secrecy, leprosy, yerfidy, .subsidy, ?rapery,
1ymmetry, drollery, prodigy, policy , rnutmy, d.estm.l'., .s~rutmy, hyjl(\Crisy, !iunily, ability, activity, avidi.1.y, ~s s Hhuty, c~v1lity,_ com1!lll·
nil~'.> concavity, consanguinity, co11lon111l.y, .co11gru1t.l'., dwtu~n~ty,
facility, falsity, familiarity, formality, gene.ro.s1ty, g:r'.1-tu1ty, h':'m1d1ty,
absurdity, activity, adversity, affability, affimtJ'., ag1hty '. alacrity, ~ m ­
biguity, animosity, anti~uity, au.sterity '. ~uthonty, .brev1ty 1 calamity,
capacity, captivity, chanty, chastity, ?tvi11ty, credul.1ty, c.unos1.ty, fi.nery, declivity, de formity, duty, dextenty, d1gn!ty, d1Rpnnty, d1~ers1ty,
divinity, enmity, enormity, equality, e quarmml.y '. eqmty, ~termty, ex' ' lre~i~y, fatality,folicity, f~rtili~y, fide.lily,. frugality, f~turrty, grav~ty,
host1hty, humamty, humility, 11nmanity, u:r1 .mat~nty, 1.m~en~1ty, m~­
, ., morality, immortality, immunity, im.mut?-b1hty, .1mp~rt1~h~.l'., u~poss1'' bility, impetuosity, improbity, ina~1ty, 111c ap~c 1t>', 1i:ic1 v1h.t.l'., 1~con­
gruity, inequality, indemnity, infinrty, mfl ~x 1b1hty, 1.nstab1hty, m.va.. ' lidity, jollity, lenity, lubricity, ma~nanirmty, ~laJonty, .m ~ dwcnty,
minority, mutability, nicety, perversity, perplex1t.l'., persp.1c.u1ty, prosperity, pri vity, probability, probity , prope nsity, rant>', rap1d_1ty, sagac1Jy, sanctity, sensibility, sensuality, solidity, temerity, t11111d1ty, tranquillity, virginity, visibility, university '· trumpery, apology, gencalo. iY• etymology, simony, symphony, soliloquy,_ allegory! arrr!ory , 01.c, tory, pillory, faculty, treasury, usury, aug.ury,_1mpor~umty, lm\rnm~y,
Impurity, inaccuracy, inability, in creel ulrty ! md1gn~ty '. mfide l1ty, .m infirmity, iniquity, integrity, laity, hbcra lrty,_ mahgi:i1.ty, matur!ty,
. mornlity, mortality, 11ativity, 11c?cssity, 11 e ut.rahty, ~w~1hty, oh~cur~ty,
opportunity, partiali Ly, perpe hnty, pros.J'enty, p~wrrt.l'., pr.od1gahty,
pur.ity, quality! quantity_, scarr-it_y,_ sec,u,n.ty_, scvent.r, s11n~h?1ty, s11~­
cenly, sole111111ty, slenhty, stup1d1ty, l nmty, vacuity, vahd1~y, ~am·
, ty, vivacity, unanimity, uniformity, unity, anxiety, gayety, 11111!1ety,
, piety, satiety, sobriety, society, variety, customary, melody, philuso; phy, astronomy, anatomy, colony, gluttony, harmony,_ agony, gal ·~ lantry, canopy, history, memory, victory, calumny, Injury, luxury,
penury, perjury, usury, industry.
'
IECE, see EASE.

rnF.
fief, thief, brief, Lelicf, relief, &c . Pc1fcct rhymes,
Ncnrly perfect rhymes, leaf, sheaf, &c .
IEG~~ .

-~

Liege, siege, oblige, disoblige, asseige, besiege .
!ELD.
Field, yi eld, shield, wield, afield. Nearly pe1fect rhymes, the preterits and participles of ve1 bs in ea!, as healed, repealed, &c.

'1

I)

!.
i~

[

I!

276

AIDS TO

JEN, see. EEN.
!END, see END.
IERCE, see ERSE.
JEST, see EAST.
H:VE, sec J~ AVE.
IFE.
Rife, fife , knife, wife, strife, life. Jlllowable rhymes, cliff,
stiff, whiff, &c.
lfF, see IFE.
IFT.
Gift, drift, shift, !in., rift, sift, thrift, adrift, &c., and
and participles of verbs in iff, as whiffed, &c.
IG.
Big, dig, gig, fig, pig, rig, sprig, twig, swig. .llllowable
league, teague, fatigue, &c.
IGE, see !EGE.
IGII, see IE.
lGHT, see ITE.
IGN, see !NE.
!GUE, see EAGUE.
IKE.
Dike, lik e, pike, spike, strike, alike, dislike, oblique.
rhymes, leak, speak, antique, &c., lick, pick, &c.
, ILL.
Dill, chill, fill , drill, gill, t1ill, ill, kill, mill, pill, quill, rill, shrill,
fill, sk ill, s pill, sti ll, sw ill, thrill, till, trill, will, distil, fulfil, insti l, codl·'..
cil, daffodil, utensil. Perfect rhymes, all words ending in ile, wit4
the accent on the antepenultimate syllttble, as volatile, &c. .flllowable
rhymes, by le, chyle, fil e, feel, ree l, &c. , meal, peal, seal, &c., and
words in ble, having the accent on t!te antepenultimate, as suitable, &.c.
ILD.
'
Child, mild, wild, &c. Perfect rhymes, the preterits and partici• •
71lcs of verbs of one syllable, in ile, or •if more syllables, pro1lirle1l th1,:
accent be on the last, as piled, reviled, Ste. .flllowable rhymes, 111• '
prete1·its and partici71les of verbs in ill, as filled, willed, &c., in oil, u
oiled, boiled, foiled, &c.
. .1
ILD.
·
Gild, build, rebu ild, &c. Perfect rhymes, the pretc1·its and parli· '
ciples of verbs in illed, as filled, willecl, &c. Jlllowa/Jle rkymes, child, ·
mild, and their allowable rhymes, which see.
· ''..
ILE.
Bile, chyle, file, g uile, isle, mil e, pile, smile, stile, style, tile, vile, ' ._
while, awhile, compile, revil e, clefilc, ex ile, ercwhilc, reconcile, be·
guile. Jllluwable rhymes, oil, uoil , &c., uill, fill, &c.
ILK.
Milk, silk, bilk, &c.
ILT.
Gilt, jilt, built, c1uilt, guilt, hilt, spilt, stilt, tilt.
ILTH.
Filth, tilth, &c.

.;;

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

277

IM.
llrim, dim, grim, him, rim, skim, slim, trim, ~vhim! prim •. Pe1fect
rllymes, li~1b, hymn, limn. .11/lowablc rhymes, lune, time, chmb, &c.,
learn, gleam, &c.
IMB, see IM.
IMJ.o:.
~' Chime, time, grime, climb, clime, crime, pr_ime, ~ime, r~1.rme, slime,
&hyme, lime, sublime. .llllo1011ble rhymes, bnm, dnn, maritime, &c.

IMES.
Betimes, sometimes, &".l. Perfect rhymes, tl1e plum ls of nouns a11d
lliird persons sing ular, present tense, of verbs in ime, as chimes, he
rhymes, &c. .111/owablc rhymes, the plurals of nouns and third perions singular, present tense, of verbs in earn, and im, as dreams, brims,
be swims, &.c.
IMN, see IM.
IMP.
', Imp, pimp, limp, gimp.

IMPS!':.

:.Glimpse : rhymes, the plum.ls of nouns and third persons present of
, eerbs in imp, as imps, he limps, &c.

IN.
Chin, din, fin, gi n , grin, in, inn , kin, pin, shin, sin, spin, ski n, thin,
tin, win, within, assassin, jave lin, begin. Jlllowrtble r!tyincs, chine,
dine, &c., lean, bean, &c., mac hin e, magazine , &c.

INCE.
Mince, prince, since, quince, rince, wince, convince, ev ince.

.

IN Cll.

'• Clinch, finch, winch, pinch, iu ch.
INCT.
·.In stinct, distinct, Pxtincl, precinct, snccincl, &c., and the pret erits
11nd participles of verbs in ink, as linked, pinked, &c.
IND.
. Bind, find, mind, blind, hind, kind, grind, rind, wind, behind, unkind, remind, &c., and the preterits and participles nf verbs in inc, as
refined. Jl lluwable rhymes, resc ind , prescind, a.nd the nolln wind, as
il is frequently pronounced, alsu tlte participles of v erbs i11 oiu, as
joined.

•

INE.
· Dine, brine, rnin e, chine, fine, lin e, nin e, pine, shin e, shrin e, kine,
lhine, trin e, twine, vine, wine, whine, combine, confi ne, declin e , define, incline, in slirine, intwine , opine, calcine, rec line, refine , rep ine,
1uperfine, interline, cnunlermine, undermine, supine, concubine, porcupine, divine. Perfect rhymes, sign, assign, consign, design, &c.
• .Rllnwalilc 1hymes, !Jin, thin, t111, origin, .1 ni u, loin, &c., and 7wly.<r/llables ending tn inc, JlrOll01l11CCtl in, llS lllllSCUiiBe 1 fou1i111ne 1 discipluie
libertine, heroine, &c.
'
·•
ING.
sing, cling, flin g, king, ring, sling, spring, sling, string
1wing, wing, wring, thin g, &c., mul lite participles of the prescnl
the accent on the antcpenultimatc, as recovering,
24

278

Ams TO

INGE.
Cringe, fringe, hinge, singe, springe, swinge, tinge, twinge,
fringe.
INK.
Ink, think, wink, drink, blink, brink, chink, clink, link,
shrink, sink, slink, stink, bethink, forelhink.
INT.
Dint, mint, hint, flint, lint, print, s11uint, asquint, imprint.

IP.
Chip, lip, hip, clip, dip, drip, lip, nip, sip, rip, scrip, ship, skip, slip, .
snip, strip, tip, trip, whip, equip, eldership, fellowship, workmanship1l!,
rivalship, and all words in ship, with tlte accent on the antepenultimate ..
';-.·
.'J.llowable rhymes, wipe, gripe, &c., leap, heap, &c.
IPE.
Gripe, pipe, ripe, snipe, type, stripe, wipe, archetype,
.llllowable r!tymes 1 chip, lip, workmanship, &c.
IPSI~.

Eclipse: rhymes, the plurals of nouns and third persons singular, .;- .
Jll"CSent tense, in ip, as lips, strips, &c. .llllowable rhymes, lite plura/1 .
~f nonns, ancl third persons singulur, prcstnt tense, of verbs in ipe, 111
gripes, wipes, &c.
IR, see UR.
IRCH, see URCH.
IRf?, see URD.

IRE.
Fire, dire, hi re, ire, lyre, mire, quire, sire, spire, sq uire, hil'e, wire,
tire, attire, acquire, admire , aspire, conspire, des ire , inquire, entire,
expil'e, inspire, require, retire, transpire, Tyre . Perfect rhymes, friar,
liar, brier, and nouns formtd from verbs ending in ie, or y, as crier,
<li er, as ulso the c01npttralive of adjeclivts of tlie same sounding lermin•
ations, as nigher, shier, &c.
lRGE, see ERGE.

JH.L.
NctLr/y JIC1fcct ~hy1ncs, curl, furl, churl, &c.
IRM.
Firm, affirm, confirm, infirm. NctLrly perfect
&c.
JRST, see URST.
lllT, see Ult'l'.
Girl, whirl, twirl.

IRTH.

Birth, mirth.

Perfect rhymes, earth, de arth, which see.

ISS.
BliAA, miss, hiRA, kiss, this, ahyAs, amiAA, suh111is•, dismiss,
.lllluw11./Jle rlty'lltes, mice, spice, &.c., peace, lease, & c.
I S, pronounced like IZ.
Is, his, whiz.
lSE, see ICE and IZE.
ISH.
Dish, wish, fish, cuish, pish.

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

279

I SK.
Brisk, fri sk, disk, risk, whisk, basilisk, tamarisk.
,
ISP.
Crisp, wisp, lisp.
IST.
Fist, list, mist, twist, wrist, assist, consist, desist, exist, insist, per·
.•i~t, resist, subsist, alchemist, amethyst, anatomist, antagonist, an. nalist, evangelist, eucharist, exorcist, herbalist, humorist, oculist, or,, 'ganist, satirist, &c ., and the11retcrils and pnrticip lcs of -ncrbs in iss, as
'II' missed, hissed, &c . .!JI/own le rhymes, the preterits and particip 1es of
1'Ubs in ice, as spiced, sliced, &c.
lT.
Bit, cit, hit, fit , grit, flit, knit, nit, pit, quit, sit, split, twit, wit, whit,
writ, admit, acquit, commit, emit, omit, outwit, permit, remit , submit,
transmit, re fit , benefit, pe rquisite. .!lllowable rhyrnes, bent, heat, &c ,
bite, mite, light, &c .
ITCII and !CH.
- Ditch, pitch, ri ch, which, filch, hitch, fiitch, hitch, itch, stitch,
1witch, twitch, witch, bewitch, nich, enrich.
""
ITE and IGHT.
Bite, cite, kite, blite, mite, quite , rite, smite, spite, trite, white,
write, contrite, disunite, despite, indite, invite, excite, incite, polite,
requite, recite, unite, re unite, aconite, appetite, parasite, proselyte,
expedite . Perfect rhymes, blight, ben ight, bright, fight, flight, fright,
hei~ht, lig ht , knight, night, might, plight, right, tight, slight, sight,
1pnght, wight, affright, alight, aright, foresight, delight, despite! un11ght, upright, benight, bedight, oversight. .!Jllowable rhymes, eig ht,
height, weight, &c., bit, hit, &c , favorite, hypocrite, infinite, requisite, opposite, apposite, exquisite, &c.
ITH.
· Pith, smith, frith .
lTHE .
Hithe, blithe, tithe , scythe, writhe, lithe. .!Jlluwable rhyme, with.
IVE .
1 Five, dive, aliv e, g·yve, hive, drive, rive , Rhrive, strivf' , thrive, ar·
, rive, connive, co11trive, d<'privc, dp1·iv c, revive, H1trvive. .Jlllowablc
rhymes, give, live, sieve, forgive, outlive, fugitive, laxative , narrativ e,
prerogative, primitive, sensitive vegetive, nflirrnative, alternative,
contemplative, demonstrative, diminutive, distributive, donative, in,· quisitive, le 11itive, negitive, perspective, positive, preparative, provo·. ,cative, purg ative, restorative.
IX.
Fix, six, flix, mix, aflix, infix , prf' lix, transfix, inter mix, crucifix,
&c., and the plurals of 1101ms nnd third p ersons nf verbs in ick, as
wicks, licks, &c. .11/lowable rhymes, the 11lurnls <!f nouns and third
persons singultLr of verbs in ike, a.s pikes, likes, &c.

.<

IX'I' .
lletwixt: rhymes, the preterits and parlicipl es of verbs in ix, as
fixed, mixed, &c.
lSE and IZE.
Prize, wise, rise, size, guise, disguise, advise, authorize, canonize,
chastise, eivilize, comprise, criticise, despise, devise, enterprise, exci1e, exercise, idolizt>, immortalize, premise, revise, signalize, solem-

280

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

nize, surprise, surmis<', suflicc, sacrifice, sympathize, tyrannize a"4
t.he_Plurals of n~uns ~nd third persons singular, present tense, of ~er&.
in 10. o.r y, as pies, lies, he replies, &c.
./J/lowablc rhymes, miss, hill,
prec1p1ce, &c.
0, see 00 and OW.
OACH.
Broach, croach, poach, abroach, approach, encroach, reproach. Perfect rhyme, loach. .!lllowable rhymes, botch, notch, &c., much, huteh1
&c.
OAD, see AUD and ODE.
OAF, see OFF.
OAK, see OKE.
OAL, see OLE.
OAM, see OME.
OAN, see ONE.
OAP, see OPE.
OAR, see ORE.
OARD, see ORD.
OAST, see OST.
OAT, see OTE.
OATH, see OTH.

OB.
Fob, bob, mob, knob, sob, rob, throb. Perfect rhymes, swab, squab,
.!lllow<ible rltymcs, daub, globe, robe, dub, &c.

OilE.
Globe, lobe, probe, robe, conglobe. .llllowab/e rhymes, fob,
&c., rub, dub, &c., daub, &c.
OCE, see OSE.
OCK.
Block, lock, cock, clock, crock, dock, fiock, flock, knock, mock,
rock, shock, stock, sock. .11/lowable rhymes, oak, poke, cloke, &c. 1
look, took, &c., buck, suck, &c.
OCT.
Concoct: rhymes, the preterits and participles of verbs in ock,
blocked, locked, &c. .!lllowable rhymes, tlie preterits and participlu
of verbs in oak, and oke, as croaked, soali.ed, yoked, &c.
""OD.
Clod, God, rod, sod, trod, nod, plod, odd, rod, shod . .llllmoali/,
rhymes, ode, code, mode, &c., and the preterits and participles of vcr61
in ow, as sowed, <lid sow, &c.
ODE and OAD.
Bode, ode, code, mode, rotlc', abode, corrode, explod e, forebod~,
commode, incommode, episode, &c . Perfect rhymr,s, road, toad, goad,
load, &c , and tlic preter1.ts ancl participles of verbs in ow, as owed,
showed, &c. .111/owable rhymes, blood, flood, clod, hod, nod broad1
fraud, &c. See OOD.
'
OE, see OW.

a1

281

~
OFF nnd OUGH.
' · Off, scoff, &c. Perfect rhyme.~. cough, trough, &c. .!lllowable
rltymcs, onf, loaf, &c., proof, roof, &c. See OOF.
,
' .
OFT.
Oft, croft, soft., aloft, &c., and the preterits and participles of
1
·,ubs in off, and uff, as scoffed, &c.
OG.
i; : • Hog, bog, cog, dog, clog, fog, frog, log, jog, &c.
Perfect rhymes,
'. dialogue, epilogue, agog, syn:igogue, catalogue, pedagogue . .fllluw' able rhymes, rogue, vogue, &c.
OGUE.
Rogue, vogue, prorogue, collogue, dissembogue . .lllluwable rhymes,
bog, log, dialogue, &c.
OICE.
Choice, voice, rejoice. Jlllowa.ble rhymes, nice, vice, rice, &c.

OID .
Void, avoid, devoid, &c., rmcl the preterits mul prtrticiples of verbs
t in oy, as buoyed, cloyed, &c. .!lllowable rhymes, hide, Lide, ride, &c.
•
OIL.
Oil, boil, coil, moil, soil , spoil, toil, despoil, embroil, recoil, turmoil,
dieembroil. Jlllowable rhymes, isle, while, tile, &c.
OIN.
Coin , join, s11bjoin, groin , loin, adjoin, conjoin , disjoin, enjoin, purloin, rejoin . .!lllvwable rhymes, whine, wine, fine, &c. See INJo.:.
_." .'
OINT.
.·' 'Oint, joint, point, disjoint, anoint, appoint, disappoint, counterpoint. .!lllowable rhyme , pint.
OISE.
" Poise, noise, counterpr1ise, equipoise, &c ., and the plurals of nouns,
,· and third persons singular, present tense, of verbs in oy, os boys,
cloys, &c. Jlllowablc rhymes, wise, size, prize, and the plurals of
", nouns, and third persons singular, present tense, of ve.rbs .in ie or y,
aa pies, tries, &c.

OIST.

,

Hoist, moist, foist. Perfect rhymes, the 7n·eterites and participles
of verbs in oice, as rejoiced. .111/owable rhymes, the preterits and par-~ liciples of verbs in ice, a.s spiced.
O!T.
.Jlllo1cablc rhymes, white, light, might,"

OKE.
Broke, choke, smoke, spoke, stroke, yokf' , bespokf' , invoke, provokP ,
revoke, &c. Perfect rhymes, choak, cloak, oak, soak, stroak .flllvwl!ble rhymes , stock, rnoc k, &,c., lrnck, luck, & c., talk, walk, &c, look,
book, &c. Sec UCK mul OUK.

.

OL.

Loll, <loll, <lroll, extol, capitol, &c. Jlllowa.ble rhymes, :ill, lrnll,
'&c., awl, bawl, &c., hole, mole, &c., dull, mull, &c.
OLD .
.:': · Old, bold, cold, gold, hold, mold, scold, sold, told, behold, enfold,
·' unfold, uphold, withhold, foretold, manifold, marigold. J'erfect rltymes,
24•

282

preterits and participles of verbs in oil, owl, ole , and oal, as
cajoled, foaled, bowled, &c.

OLE.
Bole, dole, jole, hole , mole, pole, sole, stole , whole, shole, cajolt,
condole, parole, palrole, pistole, &c. Pe1fect rhymes, coal, foal, goal,
soal, bowl, droll, prowl, roll, scroll, toll, troll, control, enroll, &o'.t
soul, &c., to roll, &c. Jlllowablc rhymes, gull, dull, &c., 1.JUll, full1 :
&c .1 loll, doll, &c., fool, cool, &c.

OLIN.
Stolen, swollen.

OLT.
Bolt, colt, jolt, holt, dolt, molt, revolt, thunderbolt.
rhymes, vault, fault, sail, &c.

OLVE.
Solve, absolve, resolve, convolve, involve, devolve, dissolve, revolve.
OM,~cUAf.
• .

OME.
Lome, dome, home, tome . Perfect rhymes, foam, roam, comb.
Jlllownble rhymes, dumb, hum, come, bomb, &c., troubl esome, &e.
See OOM.
OM13, see OOM.
OMI"l', see OUNT.
ON, see UN.
ON.
~
Don, on, con, upon, anon, &c. Perfect rhymes, gone, und ergone,
&c. .dllo10able rhymes, dun, run, won, &c., own, moan, &c., lone, .
bone, &c., Amazon, cinnamon, comparison, caparison, garrison, skelo~
ton, union, juppon.
OND.
Pond, bond, fond, bPyond, abscond, correspond, des pond, diamond,
vagabond, &c., and the pr~terits ancl participles of verbs in on, a1
donn ed, conn ed, &c . Allowalile rhymes, the preterits and participlu
of verbs in one, oan, and un, as stoned, moaned, stunned, &c.
ONCE, see UNCE.
ONE.
l'rone, bone, drone, throne, alon e, stone, tone, lone, zone, ntone,
e nthrone, dethrone, postpone, &c. Perfect rhyrnes, grown, flowo 1
disown, thrown, sown, own, loan, shown, overthrown, groan, blown,
moan, known. Allowable rhymes, dawn, lawn, &c., on, con, &c. 1 .
none, bun, dun, &c .1 moon, boon, &c.

ONG.
Long, prong, song, thong, strong, throng, wrong, along,
prolong. Allowable rhymes, bung, among, hung, &c.
ONGUE, see UNG.
ONK, sec UNK.
ONS~ .

Sconce, ensco nce, &c.
&c.

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

Jlllowalile rhymes, once,

ONT.
Font. Perfect rhyme, want. Jlllowable rhymes, front, affront, &c.1
confront, punt, runt, &c., tlie abbreviated negatives, won't, don't, &o.

283

, ·
00.
'- Coo, woo. .JVcnrly peifect rhymes, shoe, two, too, who, &.c., do,
ado undo throu()'h vou true, blue , fl ew , strew, &c. /Jllowable
{Ay~es, k~ow, blo~v; go, t~e, &c. See Direction 3.

•

OOD.

Drood, mood, food, rood, &c. N early perfect rhymes, the preterits
•nd varticiples of verbs ill oo, as cooed, wooed, &c. /Jllowablc
rhymes, wood, good, hood.' stood, withstood, understo?d, brotherhood,
livelihood, likelihood, neighbourhood, wnl.owhood, &c.''.blood, flood,
&c., feud, illude, habilude, & c., the pretc?·zts and parliczples of verlis
if1 ue, and ew, as brewed, strewed, &:c., 1mbu~d, ~ubdued, &c., bud,
mud &c. and tlie three apostrophized auxiliaries, would, could,
abould, pr~nounced woti 'd, cou'd, shou'd, &c., ode, code, nnd the preterits and 7iart iciples of vcrlis in ow, as crowed, rowed, &c., also
· nod, hod, &c.

OOF.

Hool' proof roof, woof, aloof, di sproof, reproof, bc hoof.
rhymes: huff, 'ruff, rough, enough, &c., off, scoff, &c.

/l.llo1cablc

OOK .
_ Ilook, brook, cook, crook, hook, look, rook, shook, took, mistook,
' undertook, forsook, betook. Jlllowable 111ymes, puke, fluke, &c.,
duck, luck, &c., broke, spoke, &c.

OOL.
Cool, fool, pool, sc hool, stool, tool, befool. Jlllo wa /ile rhymes, pule,
rule, &c., dull, gull, &c., bull, pull, &c., pole, hole , &c.
OOM.
Gloom, groom, loom, room, spoom, bloom,, doom, ~'\&c. P eifect
rhymes, tomb, entomb, and the city Rome. _J\ea 1ly pe1fcct rhym es,
whom, womb, &c. Jlllowable r!tY,mes, con.ie, drum, &c., bo:i1 b,
· thumb, clomb, ,'\oc., plume, sp um e, &,c., a11d Jrom, home , comb, ,'\oc.
OON.
- Doon, soon, moon, noon, epoon , swoon, b11ffoo1~, lampnon, pollr~nn.
• .Allowalilc rhymes, tune, prune, ,'ll,c., bun, dun, &c, gone, don, •Ye.,
= lione, alone, <.'\&c., moan, roan, ,l\l,c. See ONE.

oor.

'· Loop, poop, sc oop , sloop, ~roop, droop, whoop, coop, hoo p, &c.
· Perfect rhymes, soup, group, &c. .llllowable 11tymcs, dupe, up, sup,
tup, &c., cop, top, &c., cope, hope , &c.

OOR.
Door, poor, moor, &c. Perfect rhymes, tour, amour, paramour,
contour. .flllowahle rh11mts, bore, pore, &.c., pure, sure, <'Ive., your,
pour, &c., door, floor, ~Ye., bur, cur, <Ye., si r, st ir , •"'-c.
00810:.
Nearly peiftct rhymes, the nouns deuce, use, &c.,
profuse, seduce. Jlllowab/,e rhymes, dose, jocose, globose, &c., moss,
&c., us, pus, thus, &c.

· '°"'

OOT.

' Root, boot, cool, hoot, shoot. N early perfect rhym.cs, suit, fruit,
• &c., lute, impute , &c. .!lllowable rhym es, role, vote, &c., goal, coat,
• &c., but, hut, soot, &.c., foot, put, &c., hot, got, &c.
OOTH.
· Dooth, sooth, smooth, &c. Jlllowable rhymes, tooth, youth, sooth,

284

285

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

uncouth, forsooth, &c. Though these are frequent, they are very;,..
proper rhymes, tlte th in one class being flat and in tlte other sharp.
OOZE.
Ooze, nooze. Perfect rliymcs, whose, choose, lose. Nearly per/eel ·
r!tymes, lite verbs, to use, almse, &c. .tlllowable rhymes, doze, hoee 1
&c., buzz and does, the third persons singular nf <lo, with the pluro/1
of nouns, and third persons singular, present tense, nf verbs in ow, o,;·
oe, ew, ue, as foes, goes, throws, views, imbues, flues, &c.
)

ORK.
Ork, cork, fork, stork, &c. Jlllowable rhymes, pork, work.
.,.
"
ORLl).
' World rhymes perfectly with th e preterits and participles of verbs
ii url, as hurled, curled, &c .
ORM,ffeARM.
. .
Form storm conform, deform, inform, perform, reform, misinform,
,11m"f"orm,' multiform , transform. Jillowabic rhymes, form (a sent), awl

f

o~
- ~
Chop, hop, drop, crop, fop, top, pop, prop, flop, shop, slop, sop,stop1:
swop, top, underprop. .11.llowab/e rhymes, cope, t.r ope, hope, &c., tupt .
sup, &c., coop, &c.
OPE.
Sope, hope, cope, mope, grope, pope, rope, scope, slope, tope, trope
nslope, e lope, inte rlope, telescope, heliotrope, horoscope, antelope , &c.1
1
and ope', contracted in poetry for open . Jlllowable rhymes, hoop,
coop, &c., lop, top, &c., tup, sup, &c.
OPT.
Adopt rhymes perfectly with the preterits and participles of 1lerb1 ,"
in op, as hopped, lopped, &c. .IJ.lluwa'1/e rhymes, the preterits and ,
participles q/ verbs iri ope, upc, oop, and up, as coped, duped, hooped~
cupped, &c.
·
OR.
Or, for, creditor, counsellor, confessor, competitor, emperor, ance1·
tor, ambassador, progenitor, conspirator, successor, conqueror, goY•'
ernor, abhor, metaphor, bachelor, sena tor , &,c, and every word in or, ·
having the accent on the last, or last syllable but two, as abhor, orator,
&c. Jlllowable rhymes, bore, tore', &c., boar, hoar, &c., pure, en•
dure, &c., pur, demur, &c., stir, sir, &c.
ORCH.
Scorch, torch, &c. Allowable dty111cs, birch, smirch, church, &c.
1
porch, &c.
ORCE .
Force, divorce, enforce, perforce, &c . Perfect rlty11ies, cor11e 1
coar•e, hoarse, course, discourse, recourse, interconrse, source, re•
Rource, &c. .Jllowablc rhyincs, worse, purse, &c., horse, cudor~,
&c .

ORD.
Cord, lord, record, accord, abhorred. .flllowablc rhymes, hoard, ·
board, aboard, ford, afford, sword, &c., word, surd, uird, &c., and //at
preterits and participles of vtrbs in ore, ur, and ir, as bored, incurred
stirred, &c.
· 1·

ORE.
Bore, core, gore, lore, more, ore, pore, score, shore, snore, sore,
store, swore, tore, wore, adore, afore, ashore, deplore, explore, implore,
restore, forbore, foreswore, heretofore, hellebore, sycamore. Perftd
rhymes, boar, gore, oar, roar, soar, four, door, floor,and o'er, for over.
.IJ.llowable rhymes, hour, sour, &c., pow'r, for power; show'r, for
shower, &c., our, cur, &c., poor, your, &c., abhor, orator, senator,
&c. See OOR and OR.
t
ORGE.
Gorge, disgorge, regorge, &c. .11.llowable rhymes, forge,
dirge, &c.

worm.
·
· Il HORN
ORN rhyming
wit
'- ·
.
, ·. Born corn, morn, horn', scorn, _t~ orn, adorn, snb?rn, unicorn, cnp; '""ricorn . 'Jlllowablt rhymes, the participles borne, (sujjercd,) shotn, &c.,
U.e verb mourn, the nouns urn, turn, &c.
, ..
ORN rhyming with MORN.
Dorn shorn torn won;, lorn, forlorn, lov e- lorn, sworn, forsworn,
_ ovcr-uo~n, forborn. 'J'cifcct rhyme, mourn. .11/luwnble rhymes, born,
' 'z corn, &c., urn, turn, &c.
~- ·'
ORSE, see ORCE.
!:.;. Horse, endorse, unhorse. .11.1/owab/e rhymes, worse, curse, &c., re. morse, coarse , course, corse, &c.
ORST, Eee URST.
ORT, see ART.
ORT, rhyming with WART.
Short sort, exhort, consort, distort, extort, resor_t, reto_rt, s~ort. A~­
lowable 'rhymes, fort, court, port, report, &c., dnt, sh11t, c., wor ,

·I COURT
ORT, rhyming wit 1
•
Fort, port, sport, comport, disport, export,. imp~rt, support, transt' J>Ort, report. .111/owable rhymes, short, sort, &c., dirt, hurt, &c.
ORTH .
.flllowab/c rhymes, north, wor th , birth, earth, &c .
OSE, sounded OCE.
', i Close, dose, jocose . I'c1:fat. rhymes,_ morose, gros~: engross, vcr,; bose. .flllowab/c 1·/iymes, moss, cross, &c., us, thus, &c.
•
OSE, sounded OZE.
Close dose hose pose, chose, glose, froze, nose, prose, ~hose, rose,
'cQmpos~ dep~se, disclose, dispose, discompose, expose, 11npose,_ 11'.I
· j_
se propose recompose, repose, suppose, trans c osee,a1rno:;po]J~~~~pl'l\~se' foreclo~e, &c., awl the ]Jlurals of nou:!_s and
pos
'
' prcte·r its 'and pa.rtic1p
.. l.cs 0.1.r vc1·b s in ow , ot' j o > '-"'C j ' as
~postrophized
rows lo ws foes, goes, &c . Jlllowable rhymes, the_ verbs c 1oose, ose,
'&c.,'a~td th~ plurals of nouns and third persons singular of verbs m
ow, rhyming with now, as cows, and the word buzz.
hurt, &c.

,

oss.

· • Doss loss cross, dross, moss, toss, across, emboss . . .llllowablc
rhymes; the 1:ouns, close, dose, jocose, &c., and us, thus, &c.
OST .
.
,,.
Co t frost Jost accost, &c., and the preterits and participles OJ
lllord: in oss' as ~JOssed, embossed, &c., the verb exhaust, and t\e
noun holoca~st. Jlllowab/e rhynus, ghost, host, post, compost, mos ,

r:.t
:u

·t.~

286

AIDS TO

&c., coast, boast, toast , &c ., bust, must &c . roost and
and participles of verbs in oose, as Joos~d, &~.
'
OT, see AT.
C lot, c.ot, blot, got, hot, jot, lot, knot, not, plot, pot, scot, ehot,·.
spot, apricot, trot, rot, grot, begot, forgot, allot, besot, complot, co
t&
e rplot. Jllluwablc rhymes, note, vote, &c., boat, coat, &c. 1 but, C.
c.
v
OTCH.
Botch, notch, &c. Pe>fcct rhyme, watch.
such, &c.
OTE.
Note, vote, mote, quote, rote, wrote, smote, denote, promote 1'"
mote, devote, anecdote, antedote, &c. Pe1fect rhymes, boat, ~oat,
bloat, doat, float, g loat, goat, oat, overfloat, afloa t, throat, moat. Al- .
luwable rhymes, bout, flout, &c., hot, cot &c. but ctlt &c, boot. ~ ·
!wot, &c.
'
'
'
'
'
l , ..
OTH.
'
Broth, cloth, froth, moth, troth, betroth. Perfect rhyme, wrath,
.11/lmoablc rhymes, both, loth, sloth_, oath, growth, &c., forsooth, I.la
noun mouth, and the solemn 11.uxi.lwry doth, tu which some poets aiU
loathe, clothe, but I think improperly. See OOTH.
OU, see 00 and OW.
OUilT, see OUT.
OUCH.
• Couch, pouch, vouch, slouch, avouch, crouch.
much, such, &c., coach, roach, &c.
OUD.
Shr?ud, cloud, ~r?ud, loud, a loud, croud, overshroud, &c., and tM
pretents and participles of verbs in ow, as he bowed, vowed, &o.
.llllowable rhymes, the preterits and participles of verbs in ow 111 ·
owed, flowed, &c., blood, flood, bud, much, &c .
'
OVE .
Wove, in wove, interwove, alcove, clove rrrove rove stove slrov~
[).:rove, d rove. J1 /l owable rhymes, dove, .love,
' "'
'
' glove,t :ibovl'' I
shove,
1
&c., move, behove, approve , disprove, disapprove, improve, groove
prove, reprove, &c.
1
OUGH, see OFF, OW, and UFF.
OUGHT.
Bought, thought, ought, brought, forethought, fought, nought,
sought, wrought, besought, bethought, methought, &c. Perftd
rhymes, aught, naught, caught, taught, &c., sometimes draught. ~l·
lowablc rhymes, not, yacht, &c., note vote &c butt hut &c hoot
root, &c.
'
'
"
'
'
"
1
OUL, see OLE and OWL.
Olf LI> .
M.oult.l . l'c1fccl r!1.ymcs, fold, old, co ld, &c, and the preterit! and
part1c1.plcs of verbs in ow l, ol,.and ole, as bowl ed, toll ed, cajoled, &c.'"
.llllowab/e rhymes, lite preterits and participles of verbs in ull 41
gulled, pulled, &c.
1
OUNCE.
Bounce, flounce, renounce, pounce, ounce, denounce, pronounce.

ENGLISH COnIPOSITION.

: ~l

287 -

OUND.
, 1 Dound , found, mound, ground, hound, pound, round, sound, wound,
,,abound, aground, around, confound, compound, expound, profoun.d,
· bout1d, redound, resound, propound, su rround, &c., and the preterits
.ad participles of the verbs in own, as frowned, renowned, &c. Jllltwable rhymes, the preterits anti 71articiples of verbs in one, oan, and
'.1ia, as toned, moaned, sunned, &c., consequently fund, refund, &c.,
• fa4 wound (a hurt), pron . woond.
,. '
OUNG, see UNG.
OUNT.
»' Count, mount, fount, amount, dismount, remount, surmount, account, discount, miscount, account. Jlllowable rhymes, want, font,
,don't, won't, &c.
OUP, see OOP.
OUR.
Hour, lour, sour, our, scour, deflour, devour, &c., rhymes pe1fectly
. ttil!I bower, cower, flower, power, shower, tower, &c., pronounced
llow'r, tow'r, &c. :IJ.llowable rhymes, bore, more, roar, pour, tour,
' moor, _poor, &c., pure, sure, &c., sir, stir, bur, cur, &c.
t
OURGE, see UH.GE.
OURN, see OH.N and UH.N.
OURS.
"' Ours rhymes perfectly with the plurals of nouns and third persons
-'T'ucnt of verbs in our, rind owe r, as hours, scours, deflours, howers,
· ihowers, &c. Allowable rhyrnes, the plurals of nouns and third pcr10118 present of verbs in oor and.un~, as boors, moors, &c., cures, en:' dures, &c.
OURS.
Yours rhymes peifcctly with the plura.ls of nouns and third persons
,.. pre$enl of ve1·bs in ure, as cures , endures, &c. .lll/owable rhyme,
ours, and its pe1ftcl rhymes and the plurals of nouns and third perIDllS present of verbs in oar, ore, and ur, as boo rs , moors, &c., shores,
pores, &c ., burs, slurs, sti rs, &c.
OURSE, see ORCE.
OURT, see ORT.
OURTH, see ORTH .
OUS, see US.
OUS, pronounced OUCE.
House, mouse, chouse, &c. Jlllowahle rhymes, the nouns close,
dose, jocose, &c., deuce, use, produce, &c., us, thus, &c., moose, and
rAe noun noose.
OUSE, pron. OUZE, see OWZJ...:.
,
OU~
,. Bout, stout, out, clout, pout, gout, grout, rout, scout, shout, snout,
~pout, Rtn nt, "l'ro11t, t.ront., 11ho111., tlPvont, wil.hnnt, thron:.:hont, &c.,
rAymt·s pc>fcrtly with. donbt, rcdouut, 111i •do11h t, tlruni;ht'. &c. .tll/11wd le rltymes, note, vote, &c., boat, coat, &c., lute, suit, &c., got, not,
ltc., nut, shut, hoot,_ boot, &c.
.
OUTH .
l\1outh, south, when nouns havp, Ili c th sltarp. The verbs to mouth,
lo _south, &c ., may allowably rhyme with booth, smooth, &c., which see.

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288

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

OW sounded OU.
Now, bow, how, mow, cow, brow, plow, sow, vow, prow, avow,
nllow, disallow, endow, &c . Perfect rhymes, bough, plough, slo
(mire), &c., thou . .8.llowable rltymes, go, no, blow, sow, &c.
OW, sounded OWE.
Blow, stow, crow, bow, flow, glow, grow, know, low, mow, ro~
show, sow, slrow, stow, slow, snow, throw, trow, below, bestow, fo ·
know' outgrow' overgrow' overflow' overthrow' re flow' foreshow'
Perfect rhymes, go, no, toe, foe, owe, wo, oh, so, lo, though, hoe, hot
ngo, forego, undergo, dough, roe, sloe, and the verb to sew (wil/a 1
needle) . .8.llowablc rhymes, now, cow, vow, do, &c. See tlzc liut
article.
i,
OWL, see OLE.
_
Cowl, growl, owl, fowl, howl, prowl, &c. Perfect rhymes, scoul,
foul, &c. /lllowablc rhymes, bowl, soul, hole, goa.l, &c., <lull 1 gull,
&c.
OWN, see ONE.
Brown, town, clown, crown, down, drown, frown, gown, ndown 1
renown, embrown, &c. Perfect rhyme, noun. /lllowable rltymu," _,
tone, bone, moa.n, own, and the participles, thrown, shown, blown, &.c,, ,
1
OWSJ<:, see OUSE.
·'
lllowze. Pm:fcct rhymes, browse, trou se, rouse, spouse, carou1e,
souse, espouse, the verbs to house, mouse, <'I.cc., and the 71/urals of no11111 ,
and third persons present tense of verbs in ow, as brows, allows, &e. •
.llllowable rhymes, hose, those, to dose, &c.
'"(. :·~

ox.

1

• .

Ox, box, fox, equinox, orthodox, heterodox, &c. Perfect rhymu,
the plurals of nouns and third persons present of verbs in ock, 1111,t
locks, stocks, &c . Jillowable rhymes, the plurnls of nouns antl lhir' _
persons present of verbs in oke, oak, and uck, as strokes, oaks, cloa.k11 .
sucks, &c.
. ·} :·
OY.
"'
Boy, buoy, coy, employ, cloy, joy,
coy, destroy, enjoy, employ.
OZE, see OSE.
UB.
Cub, club, dub, chub, drub, grub, rub, snub, shrub, tub.
rhymes, cube, tube, &c., cob, rob, &c.
UBE.
Cube, tube. .8.llowable rhymes, club, cub, &c.
UCE.
~
Truce, sluce, spruce, deuce, conduce, deduce, induce, introduce,
produce, seduce, traduce, juice, reduce, &c., rhymes perfectly wil!
the nouns use, abuse, profuse, abstruse, disuse, excuse, misuse, obtu11t,
recluse.
.
UCH, see UTCH.
UCK.
Buck, luck, pluck, suck, struck, tuck, truck, duck.
rhymes, puke, duke, &c., look, took, &c .
UCT.
t
Co~duct, deduc.t., instruct, obs~ruct, a.qued11cl. PC1fcct rhymes, t1tt
preterits and participles of verbs m uck, as ducked, sucked, &c. Al-

289

loicable rhymes, the preterits and participles of verbs in uke and ook,
puked, hooked, &c.
VD .
: Bud, scud, stud, mud, cud, rhymes pe1fectly with blood and flood.
JUowable rhymes, good, hood, &c., rood, food, &c., beatitude, la.tit tude, &c.
UDE.
q, Rude, crude, prude, allude, conclude, delude, elude, exclude, ex~ ade, include, intrude, obtrude, seclude, altitude, fortitude, gratitude,
Interlude, latitude, longitude, magnitude, multitude, solicitude, solitude, vicissitude, a.ptitude, habitude, ingratitude, inaptitude, lassitude,
plenitude, promptitude, servitude, similitude, &c. Perfect rhymes,
.leud, feud, &c., and the preterits and participles of verbs in ew, as
lllewed, viewed, &c. .':lllowable rhymes, bud, cud, &c., good, hood,
} blood, flood, &c.
UDGE.
Judge, drudge, grudge, trudge, adjudge, prejudge.
UE, see EW.
.\
UFF.
~ Buff, cuff, bluff, huff, gruff, luff, puff, snuff, stuff, ruff, rebuff, coun-·
· terbuff, &c. Pc1fect rhymes, rough, tough, enough, slough (cast skin);, .
, • chough, &c. .flllowable rhymes, loa.f, oa.f, &c.
';
UFT.
1
. Tuft. Perfect rhymes, the preterits and participles of verbs in uff,.
.: ·u cuffed, stuffed, &c.
VG.
· · Lug, bug, dug, drug, hug, rug, slug, snug, mug, shrug, pug. .8.lltnoable rhymes, vogue, rogue, &c.
UICE, see USE.
UISE, see ISE and USE.
UIE, see IE.
UKE.
Duke, puke, rebuke, &c. Nearly perfect rhymes, cook, look, book,
&c. .IJ.llowable rhymes, duck, buck, &c.
UL and ULL.
Cull, dull, gull, hull, lull, mull, null, trull, skull, annul, disannul.
Allowable rhymes, fool, tool, &c., wool, bull, pull, full, bountiful, fan' ul, ~orrowful, dutiful, merciful, wonderful, worshipful, and every ·
iiord ending in ful having the accent on the antepenultimate syllable.
ULE.
, Mule, pule, yule, rule, overrule, ridicule, misrule. /lllowable rhymes, .
cllll, dull, wool, full, bountiful, &c. See the last article,
ULGE.
'Bulge, indulge, divulge, &c.
'
ULK.
II

ULSE.
Pulse, repulse, impulse, expulse, convulse.
ULT.
' Result, adult, exult, consult, ind ult, occult, insult, difficult, &c; .
Allowable rhymes, colt, bolt, &c.
25

,I

•·I~ .
'

...I,
1

290

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

UM.
Crum, drum, grum, gum, hum, mum, scum, plum, slum, aum ~
swum, thrum. Perfect rhymes, thumb, dumb, succumb, come, become, overcome, burthensome , cumbers'?me, frolicsome, humorsomt1
quarrelsome, troublesome, martyrdom, chnslendom . .!Jllowable rhymu
fume, plume, rheum, a11d room, doom, tomb, hecatomb.
·
UME.
Pume , plume, assume, consume, perfume, resume,
plume.
.
UMP.
·•/
Bump, pump, JUmp, lump, plump, rump, stump, trump, thump.
Perfect rhyme, clomp.
·
UN.
Dun, gun, nun, pun, run, sun, shun, tun, stun, spun, begun . Ptr•
feet rhymes, son, won, ton, done, one, non e, undone. .t1/lowd/,
rhymes, on, gone, &c., tune , prune, &c. See ON.

URCH.
Nearly p erfect rhymes, perch, search . .11.l-

URD.
_ · Curd, absurd. Perfect rhymes, bird, word, and the preterits and
_14rticiples of 1!erbs in ur, as spurred. Allowable rhymes, board, ford,
pord, lord, &c., and tlte preterits and participles of verbs in ore, onr,
ind or, as gored, oared, abhorred, &c.; also the preterits and participlu of 1lerbs in ure, as cured, immured, &c. See ORD.

URE.
Cure, pure, dure, lure, sure, adjure, allure, assure, demure, conjure,
endure, manure , enure, insure, immature, immure, mature, obscure,
procure, secure, adjure, calenture, coverture, epicure, investiture, forfeiture, furniture, miniature, nouriture, overture, portraiture, primoieniture, temperature. Allowable rhymes, poor, moor, power, sour,
tc., cur, bur, &c.

f

URF.

UNCE.
Dunce, once, &c.

Allowable rhymes, sconce.

URGE.
- Purge, urge, surge, scourge . Perfect rhymes, verge, diverge, &c.
'~llowable rhymes, gorge, George, &c., forge, &c.

UNCH.
Bunch, punch, hunch, lunch, munch.

URK.

UNO.
Fund, refund. Perfect rhymes, the preterits and participles of timl
in un, as shunned, &c.
·
UNE.
•.
June, tune, un.l une, jejuie, prune, importune, &c. Nearly perfed
rhymes, moon, soon, &c. -f{llowable rhymes, bun, dun, &c.
.. ..'.. ,
' UNG.
Clung, dung, flung, hung, rung, strung, sung, sprung, slung, stunr,
swung, rung, unsung. Perfect rhymes, young, tongue, among. /Jj. ·
low able rhymes, song, long, &c. , .
•

UNGE.
Plunge, spunge, expunge, &c.

Perfect rhyme, work.

Nearly perfect rhymes, irk,

URL, see IRL.
Churl, curl, furl, hurl , purl, uncurl, unfurl. Nearly perfect rhymes,
1irl, twirl, &c., pearl, &c.
'

URN.

·:· Burn, churn, spurn, turn, urn , return, overturn.
~journ, adjourn, rejourn.
•,

Perfect rhymes,

URSE.

' Nurse, curse, purse, accurse, disburse, imburse, reimburse. Perfect rhyme, worse. Allowable rhymes, coarse, corse, force, verse, dis. perse, horse, &c.

UR.ST.
Burst, curst, durst, accurst, &c. Perfect rhymes, thirst, worst, first.

UNK.
Drunk, sunk, shrunk, slunk,, &punk, punk, trunk, slunk.
rhyme, monk.
UNT.
Brunt, blunt, hunt, runt, grunt.. Perfect rhyme, wont (to
tomed).
UP.
Cup, sup, up. Allowable rhymes, cope, scope, and dupe,

URT.
Blurt, hurt, spurt. Perfect rhymes, dirt, shirt, flirt, squirt, &c.
Allowable rhymes, port, court, short, anort, &c.

us.

&c.
UPT.
Abrupt, corrupt, interrupt.
in up, a., supped, &c.

291

Perfect rhymes, the participles of 11~

UIL

,

. lllu.r, cur~ bur, fur, slur, spur, concur, demur, incur. Perfect rh1J11W11
sir, stir. .!I early perfect rhyme, fir, &c. .!Jllowable rhymes, pore, ou1
&c.
•
Ultll.
Curb, disturb. Nearly perfect rhymes, verb, herb, &c.
rhyme, orb.

Us, thus, buss, truss, discuss, incubus, overplus, amorous, boisterous, clamorous, credulous, dan~e rou s , degenerous, ge nerous, emulous,
fabulous, friv olous , hazardous, idolatrous, infamou s, miraculous, mischievous, mountainous, mutinous, necessitous, numerous, ominous,
perilous, poisonous, populous, prosperous, ridiculous, riotous, ruinous,
ecandalous, scrupulous, sed ulou s, trnilorous, treac he rous, tyrannous,
Tenomous, vigorous, villainou s, adventurous, adnllcrous, ambigu ous,
blasphemous, dolorous, fortuitous, sonorous, gluttonous, gratuitous,
~ incredulous, lec herous, libidin ous, magnanimous, obstreperous, odorif~
• erous, pond ero us, ravenous, rigorous, slanderous, solicitous, timorous,
, nlorous, unanimous, cnlamil.ous. Jlllowal1le rhymes, the nouns use,
' abuse, diffuse, exc use, the verb to loose, and the nouns goose, deuce,
i juice, truce, &c., close, dose, house, mouse, &c.

..

-----292

---....

....."""'"""'""'".....

~------·----------

:"..:...:....._
- ~-__... ~-----------------

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

USE, with the s pure.
The nouns use, disuse, abuse, deuce , truce. Perfect rltymes, tit
verb to loose, the nouns goose, noose, moose. /lllowable rhyme1 1 u,
thus, buss, &c.
USE, sounded UZE .
Muse, tltc verbs to use, abnsc, n111use, diffuse, exc use, infuee, mlli
use, peruse, rcftrne, snflusc, tran sf'uHc, accuse. J>crfccl rhymes, brui•i .
and the plurals of nouns and third persons si11 <rular of verbs in 11r ·
and nc, as cle ws, imbues, &c. Jlllowable rhym~s, buzz, does, &o, "·\·
USH .
Blush, brush, crush, gush, flush, rush, hush.
bush, push.
USK.
Busk, tusk, dusk, husk, musk .
UST .
. Bust, cr_ust, dus~, just, mu.st, lust, rust, thrust, trust, adjust, ndu11;
disgust, d_1strust, rntr_u~t, mistrust, ~obust, unjust. Perfect rhymu 1
lite preterits and participles of verbs in uss, as trussed , discussed, &.c.
UT.
But, butt, cut, hut, ~ut, glut, jut, nut, shut, strut, cnglut, rut, scut,
sl_ut, smut, abut. P e1jcct rhyme, soot. Jlllowablc rhymes, boot, &c.,
dispute , &c., boat, &c.
UTCH.
Hutch, crutch, Dutch. Pe1ject rhymes, much, such, touch, &c.
UTE.
Brute 1 lute, flu~e, mute, acute, con:ipute, confute, dispute, dilutl!,
depute, impute, mrn~te, poll_ute, refute, repute, salute , absolute, nttri•
bute, conslitute, deslitut~, dissolute, execute, institute, irresolute, per•
secute, prosecute, pros titute, resolute, substitute. Perfect rhymu
fruit, recruit, &c. /lllowable rhymes, boot, &c., boat &c. note &o.'-.
1
hut, &c.
'
'
'

ux.

Flux, 1efiux, &c. Perfect rhymes, lite plurals n( nouns and third
persons n.f verbs in uck, as duck s, trncks, &c. /Jliownblc rhymes, tAt
plurnls of nouns and t!tird persons of verbs in ook, uke, oak, &o., 41 .
cooks, pukes, oaks, &c.

Y, see IE.

MODEL I.
'l'HE WINGED WORSHIPPERS,

'

&DDIElllJ:D TO T\VO SWALLOWS THAT FLEW INTO CHURCH DUl\ING D1VUC£ n:nv1ci:.

Gay, guiltless pair,
What seek ye from the fields of hea\Ten?
Ye ha\Te no need of prayer,
Ye ha\Te no sins to be forgiven.
Why perch ye here,
Where mortals to their Maker bend ?
Can your pure spirits fear
The God ye ne\Ter could offend?
Ye never knew
The crimes for which we come to weep;
Penance is not for you,
Blessed wanderers of the upper deep.
To you 't is given
'l'o make sweet nature's untaught lays ;
Beneath the arch of heaven
To chirp away a life of praise.
Then spread each wing,
Far, far above, o'er lakes and lands,
And join the choirs that sing
In you blue dome not reared with hands.
Or, if ye stay,
To note the consecrated hour,
. Teach me the airy way,
And let me try your en\TJCd power.
Abo\Te the crowd,
On .upward wings could I but fly,
I 'd bathe in yon bright cloud,
And seek th e stars that gem the sky.
'T were heaven indeed
Through fields of trackless light to soar
On nature's charms to feed,
And nature's own great God adore.
MODEL II.

LESSON LXV.
LYRIC POETRY.

Lyric poetry literally implies that kind of poetry which is writ;
ten to accompany the lyre, or other musical instrument, The •
\Ter~ifica~ion may either be regular, or united in fanciful combi- •
nat10ns, 111 correspondence with the strain for which it is composed.

293

LINES ADDRESSED TO LADY IlYRON.

There is a mystic thread of life
So dearly wreathed with mine alone,
That destiny's relentless knife
At once must sever both or none.
There is a form on which these eyes
Have often gazed with fond delight;
By day that form their joy supplies,
And dreams restore it through the night.
25•

294

295

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

There is a voice whose tones inspire
Such thrills of rapture through my breast;
I wouhl not hear a seraph choir
Unless that voice could join the rest.
There is n face whose blushes tell
Affection's tale upon the cheek ;
But, pallid at one fond farewell,
Proclaims more Jove than words can speak.
There is a lip which mine has pressed,
And none had ever pressed before,
It vowed to make me sweetly blessed,
And mine,-mine only, pressed it more.
There is a bosom, - all my own, Hath pillowed oft this aching head ;
A mouth which smiles on me alone,
An eye whose tears with mine are shed.
There are two hearts whose movements thrill
In unison so closely sweet!
That, pulse to pulse, responsive still,
That both must heave,- or cease to beat.
There are two souls whose equal flow
In gentle streams so calmly run,
That when they part- they part! -ah, no!
They cannot part, - those souls are one.

tion, which is amusing or interesting to the populace, and written
in easy and uniform verse, so that it may easily be sung by those
who have little acqunintnnce with music.
A Sonnet is a species of poetical composition consisting of
fourteen lines or verses of equal length. It properly consists of
fourteen iambic verses of eleven syllables, and is divided into
two chief parts ; - the first consists of two divisions, each of
' four lines, called quatrains; the second of two divisions of three
lines each, called terzines. The rhymes in these parts respectively were managed according to regular rules. But these rules
have been seldom regarded in modern compositions. The sonnet generally contains one principal idea, pursued through the
various antitheses of the different strophes, and adorned with the
"charm of rhyme.

The highest of the modern lyric compositions is the Ode. The
word ode is from the Greek, and is generally translated a song,
but it was not a song, as we use the term in our language. The -"
ode was the result of strong excitement, a poetical attempt to
fill the hearts of the auditors with feelings of the sublime. Odes
that were sung in honor of the Gods were termed Hymns, from
a Greek word hymneio, which signifies to celebrate. The name
is now applied to those sacred songs that are sung in churches,
The Hebrew hymns which bear the name of King David nro
termed Psalms, from the Greek word psallo, which signifies to
sing.
The Greek ode when complete was composed of three parts, '·
the Strophe, the Antistrophe, and the Epode. The two former ·
terms indicated the turnings of the priests round and about the '
altar. The Epode was the end of the song, and was repeated
standing still, before the altar.
Preans were songs of triumph sung in procession in honor of
A polio, on occasions of a victory, &c., or to the other Gods na
thanksgivings for the cessation or cure of an evil. The word
is derived from a word signifying to heal or ciwe.
For examples of the English ode, the student is referred to '
the well known pieces "Alexander's Feast,'' by Dryden, and
the " Ode on the Passions,'' by Collins.
·
A Ballad is a rhyming record of some adventure or trans11c-

v

l\IODEL OF THE SONNET .
SONNET TO ONE BELOVED.

Deep in my heart thy cherished secret lies,
Deep as a pearl on ocean's soundless floor,
Where the bold diver never can explore
The realms o'er which the mighty billows rise.
It rests far hidden from all mortal eyes,
Not e'en discovered when the piercing light
Of morn illumines the uncurtained skies,
And fills with sunshine the dnrk vaults of night.
Repose in me thy heart's most sacred trust,
And nothing shall betray it ; I will bend
This human fabric to its native dust,
But nothing from me shall that secret rend,
Which to my soul is brighter, dearer far,
Than any lustre of sun, moon, or star.

· A cantata is a composition or song intermixed with recitatives
.and nirs, chiefly intended for a single voice.
· A canzonet is a short song in one, two, or three parts. 11
l\IODEL.
BLACK EYES AND BLUE.

Illack eyes most dazzle in a hall;
Blue eyes most please at evening fall;
The black a conquest soonest gain ;
The blue a conquest most retain ;
The black be-speaks a lively heart,
\Vhose soft emotions soon depart;
The blue a steadier flame betray,
That burns and lives beyond a day;

* In musical compositions, a song consisting of two parts is called a
Duet, if in three parts, a 1'rio1 if in four, a Quartette, &c.

i';

!<

296

AIDS TO

The black may features best disclose·
In blue may feelings all repose.
'
'I'hen Jet each reign without control
The black all MIND, - the blue all s~uL !
A Logogriph is a kind of riddle.
Charades (which are frequently in verse) are compositions in
wh~cl~ the subject must be a word of two syllables, each forming
a distinct word, and these syllables are to be concealed in an
enigmatical descripti on, first separately and then together. See
Lesson XLI., page 153.
·
Madrig:als are short lyric poems adapted to express ingenious
an.d .pleasing thoughts, commonly on amatory subjects, and con~
tam mg not less than four, nor more than sixteen verses of elev~
e~ syllabl es wi~h shorter verses interspersed, or of ;erses or
eight syllables 1rr e~u larly rhymed, The madrigal is not con•
fined to the regularity of the sonnet, but contains some tender
and delicate, though simple thought, suitably expressed.

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

297

l\lODEL OF THE ACROSTIC.

Friendship, thou 'rt false ! I hate thy flattering smile !
Return to me those years I spent in vain.
In ea•ly youth, the victim of thy guile,
Each j oy took wing ne'er to return again, Ne'er to return; for, chilled by hopes deceived,
Dully the slow-paced hours now move along;
So changed the time, when, thoughtless, I believe d
Her honeye d words, and heard her syren song.
If e'er, as me, she lure some youth to stray,
.Perhaps, before too late, he '11 listen to my lay.

LESSON LXVI.
PASTORAL AND ELEGIAC POETRY.

MODEL OF THE MADRIGAL .
TO A LADY OF TllE COUNTY OF LANCASTEH, WITH A Wlll'l'E ROBE.

If th.is fair rose offend thy sight,
It m thy bosom wear;
'T will blush to find itself less white,
And turn Lancastrian there.

The Ro~deau, or rondo, .roundo, round el, or roundelay, all
mean precisely the same tlung. It commonly consists of thir·
teen lines or verses, of which eight have one rhyme and five
another. It is divided into three couplets, and at the end of the
second and third, the beginning of the rondeau is repented i(
possible, in an equivocal or punning sense.
.
'
The Epigram is a short poem, treating only of one thing and
ending: with ~ome livel.y, ingenious, and natural thought,' ren• •
dered ~nt~restmg by be~n~ unexpected .. Conciseness is one or .'
the pnnc1pal. ~h~ractenst1cs of the epigram. Its point oil.en
rests ?n a witt1c1sm or verbal pun; but the higher species or
the epigram should be marked by fineness and delicacy, rather
than by smartness or repartee.
MODEL.
WRITTErl ON GLASS WITH A DJAIUOND PENCIL BELONGll'fO TO LORD STAriHOP&.

Accept a miracle in place of wit; See two dull lines by Stnnhope's pencil writ.
An Impromptu is an extemporaneous composition that is 1 one
made at the moment, or without previous study.
'
An Acrostic is a composition in verse, in which the initial letters of each line, taken in order from the top to the bottom, make
up a word or phrase, generally a person's name ' or a motto. .' 1~- ...

Pastorals, or Bucolics, are the narratives, songs, and dramas,
' which are supposed to have been recited, sung, or acted, by
1hepherds.
'!'he ancient pastorals were either dialogues or monologues.
A monologue is a poetical piece where there is only a single
lpeaker.
' •1 An idyl, idyllion, or idyllium is a short pastoral of the narrative
or descriptive kind.
. , An eclogue is the conversation of shepherds. The word literally means a select piece, and the art of the poet lies in selecting
the beauties without the g ross ness of rum! life. The eclogue
differs from the idyl in being appropriated to pieces in which
1hepher<ls themselves are introduced.
ELEGY AND EPITAPH.

· :' An Elegy is a poem, or a song, expressive of sorrow and
lamentation.
, An Epitaph is, literally, an inscription on a tomb. When writ_ten in verse, and expressive of the sorrow of the survivors, epi~phs are s hort elegies."
· ~--~~~~-~~--~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"'" •The following remarks on the subject of epitaphs, were originally preeented by a young fri end, as a college exercise. They appear to he so
much to the purpose, that they arc presen ted entire.
"' N atnro and Nature's lnws lay hid in 11iµht ;
Uo<l said, Let Newton be! and ull wns light.'
' : 11 One oommon fault in epitaphs is their too great length. Not being easily r~ad upon stone, fow trouble themselves to peruse them if they are long·
and m a church-yard so many soli cit our attention, th at w~ prefer to exam:
ine those which are concise, rather than spend our time on a few Jong ones.
EYery one, too, soon discovers that those, which cover the stones on which

-----~-- -- ---~- -----·· ~------------------------ --

298

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COl\1POSITION.

Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight,
And nil the uir a solemn stillness holds;
Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,
And drowsy ·tinklings lull the distant folds.
Sa~e that, from yonder ivy-mantled tower,
The moping owl does to the moon complain
Of such as, wandering near her secret bower,
Molest her ancient solitary reign.
Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade,
Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap,
Each in his narrow cell for ever laid,
The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep•
The breezy call of incense-breathing morn,
The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed,
The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn,
No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn,
Nor busy housewife ply her evening care;
No children run to lisp their sire's return,
Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield ;
Their furrow oft the stubborn giebe has broke ;
How jocund did they drive their team afield !
How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke.
Let not Ambition mock their useful toil,
Their homely joys and destiny obscure;
Nor Grandeur hear, with a disdainful smile,
The short and simple annals of the poor.
The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
A wait, alike, the inevitable hour ; The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault,
If memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise,
Where, through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault,
The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.

MODEL,

ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCH-YARD.

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day;
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea;
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me..
they are inscribed, are, for the most part, feebly expressed, and hardl,recompense one for the trouble of deciphering them; while a concise inscription immediately attracts notice, and is generally found to be poin~
We can frequently perceive the description of character to be untrue, be. cause it is colc.lly worded, and expressed in very general terms; in short, a
character which would apply to one man as well as another, and such H ii
frequently given to a person whom we care nothing about. Such cpitnph1 I ·
co11si<lcr faulty. After tho death of an ac'l11ai11tancc , all our fccli11gA of di ..
like caused by his prcsense are dispelled; all the animosity, growing oul
of the clashing of our interests with his, vanishes with the man; and, per- haps, being in some deo-ree reproved by our consciences for our uncharib· .'
ble feelings during his life, we endeavour to make amends by inscribing to l ·
his memory a eulogy, which, if he still lived, we should pronounce unde-1 '·
served flattery, if spoken by others, and which would never have pro- • '
cecdcd from our own lips, except in irony. In eu c h a casfi, an epitaph
usually begins by gravely telling the reader, that we are all mortal, and
ends by commending the soul of the defunct to Heaven.
" But, though epitaphs give us, generally, exaggerated characters, yet I
would not have it otherwise. Our church-yards should be schools of morality and religion. Every thing we see there, of course reminds us or
death; and it would appear to us sacrilege, if we should behold any record
of vice. Since everywhere we find virtue ascribed to the tenants of the
place, their death, and death in general, will not be to us so terrible and
gloomy a subject of reflection; yet will produce such a serious turn or c
mind, as will lead to relirrious
meditation, which always haB the effect or
0
calming the passions, and facilitates, in a great degre e , our conque~t over
them, nnd the infrequency of which is the cause of most of our trlllll•
g-ressions.
"Eulogizing epitaphs give us a more exalted idea of the power of reli·
gion, to which they chiefly have reference; and, therefore, have in soine
measure the force of examples. When a person has not been known to ·
the world as a philosopher a11d a scholar, or in any other way n di1tln•
guishcd man , it is suflicient, that his epitaph should be calculated to el•
cite tender and serious feelings. In such a case, elegiac poetry should bt
congenial to those feelings. This, Stewart says, may he effected by the
smoothness of the verse, and the appncntly easy recurrence of the
rhymes. Blank ve rse would be peculiarly inappropriate to this species ol
poetical composition. When, on the other hand, a person has been con• .
spicuous, as ·a philosopher, for instance, his epitaph should convey a dir·
ferent lesson j by a description of his discoveries, it should remind UI
what is due from us to science and our fellow-creatures, besides suggcsliDI
the re flection, that the greatest men must perish .
".
"Considering this quality desirable in an epitaph on a philosopher, we should praise an epitaph on Newton, which re presented lnm as tho great- ""
est philosopher the world has ever seen, and is e xpressive, also, of the
g-ratitude which is due to him , for the improvement he ha• made in th1
condition of the human race by his discoveries. I think that the nboTe t
epitaph, by Pope, conveys all this; for the observation, that 'Nature and
Nature's laws lay hid in Night," implies , that information on the subject
of those laws would be beneficial to mankind, inasmuch as an idea of di-, i

>

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adnntage is associated with the word 'night'; and the second line ex·''- presses that Newton alone made the whole subject clear to our minds;
,_' ,an exaggerated expression, but one. that certainly describes an exalted
. genius. I do not tlunk, that the epitaph redounds much to the honor of
. ,, Pope. except for the felicity of the. e~prr.ssion ;_ fo~ the id en would. occ~r
lo many minds. \-Ve. should not, in JUdg1!1g of tins ~ou1~lc~, consider 1t
alone; for united with the rest of the epitaph of which 1t ts but a part,
the whole together deserves much greater praise, than is due to either part
taken separately. A complete eulogy on Newton should not be expected
In the inscription on his tomb; and, therefore, we should not consider its
, - merits in that character. I think, that the conciseness of the epitaph,
• · which is a great recommendation, will compensate and account for what. ever defect it may have in giving us a just and exact idea of Newton ."
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Can storied urn, or animated bust,
Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath?
Can Honor's voice provoke the silent dust,
Or Flattery soothe the <lull, cold ear of death ?
P erhaps, in this neglected spot, _is laid . .
Some heart, once pregnant with celestrnl Jue;
Hands that the rod of empire might have swayed,
Or '~aked to ecstasy the living lyre :
But Knowl edge to their eyes her ample page,
Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll;
Chill Penury repressed their noble rage,
And froze the genial current of the soul.
Full many a gem, of purest ray serene,
The dark, unfath~med caves of ocean bear;
Full many a flower 1s born to blush unseen_,
And wnste its sweetness on the desert air.
Some village Hampden,_that, with_ dau ntless breast,
The little tyrant of his fields withstood;
Some mute, inglorious Milton here may rest;
Some Cromwell, guiltle~s of his country's blood.
The applause of listening senates to command,
The threats ~pain and ruin to despise,
To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land,
And read their history in a nation's eyes,
Their lot forbade : nor circumscribed alone
Their growing virtues, but their crimes confined;Forbade to wade through slaughter to a _thron e,
And shut the gates of mercy on mankind ;
The struggling pangs of conscious Truth to hide,
To quench the blushes of lngenuou_s Shame ;
Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pnde
With incense kindled at the muse's flame.
Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife,
'l'heir sober wishes never lea rned to stray:
Along the cool, sequestered vale of life
They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.
Yet even these bones from insult to protect,
Some frail memorial, still erected nigh,
With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture decked, .
Implores the passing tribute of a sigh.
Their names, their years, spelled by the unlettered Muse, .
The place of fume and elegy supply;
'
And many u holy text around she strews,
That teach the rustic moralist to die.
For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey,
This pleasing, anxious being e'er resigned; -

ENGLISH COHPOSITION.

301

L eft th e warm precincts of the cheerful <lay,N or cast one lon g ing, lingering look behind?
On some fond breast the parting soul relies;
Some pious drops the closing eye requires:
Even from the to111b the voice of Nature cries;
E1·en in our ashes live their wonted fires.
For thee, who, mindful of th e 11nho11ored dead ,
Dost in th0se lin es th e ir artless tale relate,
If, chanc e, by lone ly contemplation led,
Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate,
Hapl y, some hoary-hea ded swain may say,
"Oft have we seen him, at th e peep of dawn,
llrushing, with hasly steps, lhe dews away,
To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.
"Th ere, at the foot of yonder 11oclcling beech,
Th at wreathes its old fantastic roots so high,
His listless length at noontid e would he stretch,
And pore upon the brook that babbl es by.
"Hard by yo n wood, now smiling, as in scorn,
Muttering his wayward fancies, he would rove;
Now drooping, woful wan, lik e one forlorn,
Or crazed with care, or crossed with hopeless love.
"On e morn I missed him on the accustomed hill,
Al onrr the healh, and near his favorite tree;
An o th e~ came; nor yet beside th e rill,
Nor up the lawn, nor at th e wood was he:
"Th e next with dirges du e, in sad army,
.
Slow th ro ug h the church-way path we snw !um borne.
Approach and read, (for thou ca nst read,) the lay,
Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn."
EPITAPH.

H ere rests hi s head up on the lap of ea rth,
A youth, to fortune and to fame unknown:
Fair Sciene•~ frown ed not on his humbl e birlh,
And Melancholy marke d him for her own.
Large was hi s bounty, and his so ul since re ;
Heaven did a recompense as largely send: .
He gave to misery all he had, - a tear ; .
He gain ecl from Heaven-'t was all he wished-a fnend.
No farther seek his 111crits to disclose,
Nor draw his frailti es fro111 th eir drend nhode, (Th ere they, alike, in trembling hope, repose,)
Th e bosom of his Father and his God.

26

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ENGLISH COll1POSITION.

LESSON LXVII.
OF

THI~

HIGHER SPEC IES OF POETRY.

Th e hi g he r species of poc lry e 111l1raccs the three following <livl..
ions, rn1111ely;
I . 'J':des n111.I Romances.
~. Epic a nd Dra1natic Poetry .
3. 1Jid,1clic and Descriptive Poe try .*
A Tal e i.s~ literally, any tl1in g that is told, and may relate either
real or fi c t1t1 ous e ve11l•. 'Wh e n the even ls rela ted in a tale are be·
lieved really to hav e hap pened, th e tal e is te rmed history.
II . lto111ance is a tal e of interes ting, or wonde rful advrnturre; and
has 1~s 1!a mc from th ose that wer e rec ited by th e Truulindourt1
(that 1s, inventors,) or wandcrin" min stre ls, of the lw e lfl.h nm! thir•
tee nlh ~e nluri es._ The tales of th e Trou badours re late d principally to
th e r~11hl.ary n,c!11e ve 111cnts o.r th e crusading kni g hts , th e ir gallamryJ
and f1cl e ltty. 1 hey we re delive red in a corrupted Latin dialect, callc
l'rov c n<pl, or Provin cial, by the inhabita nts of R ome, and Roman:w
or lton1i sh, by th e Gothic nati o ns, and ht' ncc the tal e itse lf was called
a Uo11u1.ncc. S oruc of th e m were prosp Rf1111 c in vrr sc an U some in a
mi sce ll a neo us union of prose na rrativ e ;nd so ng. J3ut In neither form,
were LIH'Y in. all cases worthy of th e na111e of poe ms.
Nov els_, (l1 terally , some thing n ew ,) are th e adventures of im aginary
pe rso ns, 111 wluch supe rnatural beings are no t introd uce d . The novel
is ge n era lly al so in prose. \-Vh ene ve r a powe r is introduced superior
to that of 111orlals, the nove l is proper ly a romance. "The Epicurean,"
by M oore , is an exampl e of thi s k incl, w hi c h , althou g h in the form o(
prose, is hi g hly p oe t~cal in ils c haracte r. It is
of inrn ginative
powe r, and abounds 111 figures of th e mos t bea utiful kind dressed in ·
the mo s t g lowi ng colors.
· '
That .Powe r, which tlt e poe t introdu ces, whatev e r it may be, to ~
ncco111pl1 sh what me re human agency cannot ellec t is called the ·•
machinery or th e poem .
'
,-

run

/\ n Epi c poe m iR. a r.1nrt.ical, ro manti c lair, r.m hrn cing rnnny per•
aonag<'H nllll 111any 111c1dl'nls. One g<' tt r.ra l and i1nporl.1111t doalgn
must b ~ appare nt in its cons tru ctio n, to whi c h e ve ry se parate nctor
and act ion must be subservient. Th e accounts of the se subordinall
actions are ca lled episodes, and sho uld not be exte nded lo a greal
le ngth. Ex am pl es of ep ic poi>ms may be see n in th e " Iliad ," and
"OdyssPy ," of H ome r, (translated by !'ope,) th e "l'Eneid,'' of Virgil,
(tra11 slated by Dryd e n,). the " l'har salia," of Lu can, (translated by
R o wr,) attd th e " l'arad1 se Lost" of M ii ton. Epi c poe ms nre rare
produ c tion•, and scarcely any nation catt boast of 111orc than one .'
Th e word r.pic lite rall y me ans 11ot hinrr more than a tale. It i1 1
however, a tal c co ncn ning a lu·rn or h r r~cs , and he nce rpic poetry i1
al so c ;~llC'd !wroic i:crse . Epopea, or Epopwia, is 111erc ly a learned
name for e pi c poe m .
A Drnma is a poe m of the epic kind, but so corni> resse d and adapted,
• SP.e the piece e ntitl ed " Th e F:mpirc of Poe try" by Fontenelle Le..
eon XLI., page 147, under th e head of A llegory. . '
'

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303

lhnt th e whole tale, in stead of requiring lo be read or recit.ed at intervals, by an individual , may be ex hibited as actually pa ssing before
'our eyes . Ev e ry actor in th e poe 111 has his re prese ntativ e on th e
1tage, who s pea ks th e lan!!uage of th e poe t, as if it were hi s own;
and e'.''!ry action is litera!Ty pe rforrned or imitated, as if it were of
nntural occ urr e nce. /Is a dra111ati c writer, Slrnkspeare stands unrivnlled, a111ong English null1ors, and it may well be questioned,
wheth e r a ny n ation has pr oduced his s upe ri or.
In th e co nstruction of a Drn111a, rul es have bee n laid dow n by
critics, th e principal of which re late to the three Unit ies , as th ey nre
called, of action, of time, and of place. Unity of action requires , that
a e~ngl ~ object shou ld be l.t e pt in vie w. N o und e rplot, or seco ndary
achon is all o wable, unless 1t te nd lo advance the prominent purpose .
. Unity of tim e requires, that th e eve nts should be limited to a short
period; se ldom if eve r more than a sin g le day . Unity of pl ace requires the co nfin e me nt of th e ne t.ions re presented within narrow gr.ogrnphi cal li111il s. Anoth e r rul e of dramatic criticism is te rm ed poetical juslicc; by whi c h it is und e rstood, that the pernonages shall be
reward ed or puni shed, ac cordin g to th eir respective desert. A reg ular
drama is an hi stori cal pi cture , in whic h we perceive unity of desig n,
and co111pare ev e ry portion of th e composition, as harm onizing with
the whole.
Dra111 a tic co1nposition s. a rc of two kind s , Tra ge dy and Comedy.
Tragedy 1s de sig ned to fill the 1111nd of the spectators with pity and
terror; come dy to re pre se nt so tn e amusin g a nd connected tale . The
mu se of tra ge dy , th e refore, d Pa ls in deso lation and death,- th at of
comedy is s urrounded by th e hum oro us, th e witty, and th e gay. It
.ie to tragedy that we c hie fly look fo r poe ti ca l embe llishm e nt, and it is
there only that we look fo r the sub lim e . A cco rdingly , it is , with few
exceptio ns, still composed or meas ured lin es, while comedy is now
writte n w holly in prose.
A Prol og ue is a short poe m , desig ned ns an introdu ction to a discourse or pc rfor111ancr., c hi e fl y the di scomse or poe m spoken before I\
drnmatic pe rformance or play licg i ns.
An Epil og ue is a speec h, or short poc 111, addressed lo th e spec tators
by one of th e actors, afte r tlw con clu sion of a dramati c pnformnnce.
Bom c litn cs it co nlaiu s a recapit11laliun of the chief incidents of the
pln,r
' nn1 1. 1s
· rcs lra1ncl
· 1 Ly 11 0 law, not
•nrcc ·1 ~ 11. 1c ca n· cat11re o 1· co111<'uy,
even those of probabi lity and n a tu re . J ts objec t is to e xcite mirth an d
uproariou s lau g hte r. But, in some of its forms, suc h as pe rsona l
satire, occas ional grossness, a nd vu lgar ity, it h as re nd e red itself so obnoxi ous to re probation, that th e very n a tne is an abomination. It is
comm only i11 prose.
Those co111positi ons iu whi c h lit e language is so littl e in uni so n
with th e s nloj cc t, as to i111prcss th e mind with a fe e ling of the ridi c ulous are ca II Pd Burle'sques.
·
The Ilurl e lta is a s pec ies of co mposition in which persons and actions of 110 va lu e arc 111acle lo asg 111ne an uir of i111portan cc. Ur, it is
!hat IJy whi c h things of real co11se11uc nce are degrnded so us lo seem
objects of de ri sion.
'
Parodies, Travesti es , and l\l ock f-l l" roics are ludicrous imitations of
1erious subjec ts. Th ey belong to th e burlesque.
· · J?idactic. poetry is that which is writte n professedly for the purpose
of mstru ct10n. D esc riptive poe try mere ly describes the pe rson or the -

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object. Did actic poetry should be reple te with orn amen t, especi1l(1,
where it ca n be done, wilh figurative lan g uage. This rule should be
pr ese rvEd in order lo kePp up the inte res t m the subject, which ii
usually dnJ . N ot e ven th e epic dema nds such glowing and piclur•
esque e pithe ts, s uc h daring and forciQ.le metaph ors, such pomp ol
numbers and dignity of expression , as the didactic; for, the lower Of
more familiar the obj ec t described is, the greater must be 1he power
of language to preserve it from debasement. Didactic and descriplift
poetry a re so intimately allied, that the two kinds can rarely be found
asunder, and we irive a poem this or that den omin atio n, according u
the one or the othe r of th ese characteristics appears lo predominnle.
As examples of didactic poetry, the student is referred to Pope'•
"Moral Essays"; and, for instances of desc riptive poetry, to hil
"Windsor ForPst," to 111ilton's "L'A llegro," and" II P enseroso," and
to 'rho1nson 's "~easo ns."
Am ong th e examples of didactic poetry, Akenside's "Pleasure.of
the Imag ination," and Young's "Night Thou g hts," should not be
forgo tten.* In th e opinion of Johnson, the versification of the former
work is considered eq ual , if not superior, to that of a ny other specimeaof blank verse in the language. Of Young 's "Night Thoughts" if
may be said, although it has been stigmatized as a long, lugubrioua •. f
poem, opposed in its composition to e very rnle of so und critici~m, .~
full of extravaga nt metaphors, astounding hyperbo les, and never• ·'·
ending antith e•es, that few poe ms in any lan g ua ge present such &
concentration of th oug ht, such a rich fund of poe tical beauties, eo nu·
mero us and brilliant co rruscati ons of gen iu s, and so frequent occur~
rence of passages of the path etic and the sublime.!
• •
Satires a re di scourses or poems in which wi ck edness and folly are ·
exposed with se verity, or held up f.o ridi cu le. Th ey differ from Lampoons and Pasquinades, in being general, rather than personal, and
from Sarcasm, in not expressing co ntempt or scorn .
Satires are usually in cluded und er the herrd of didactic poems, bul
every class of poe ms may includ e lhe satirical. In satires it is the
class, th e c rim e, or the folly, which is the proper objec t of attack, and
not the in di vi du al.
A Lamp oon, or Pasqu inad e, is a personal sat ire , written with the
inte ntion of reproac hin g, irritating, or vexing t.h e individual, rather ,
than to reform hirn . It is satisfied with low abuse and vituperationJ
rather than with proof or argument.
An Apophthegm, Apothegm, or Apothem is a short , senlentiou1,
instructiv e re mark, usu ally in prose , hut rarely in verse, uttered on a
particular occasion, or by a distinguished character; as that of Cato 1
" !\'Ten, by doing nothing, soon learn to do mischi ef:"

ENGLI SH COJ\1POSITION.

h e ll , hrdon~ to this c: la i:::~. "'J1hc D P.Ar. rt.• ~d Villagn ," and " 'J'li n Travcdlor~u

the prin c iplt!s <if li:ngli~h Composilion lie is larg( !ly i11dc1JtcJ, here 11
elsewhere, in tliis volume.

305

LESSON LXVIII.
"For different styles with different subjects sort,
As different garbs with country town and court."
In the Introduction to this volume, it was slated that the r~ost ob·
vious divi sions of Composition with ~es pect to the n~ture of its s~b­
jecte, are the Narrative, the DP sc rip~1ve, . tl.' e. Didactic, the Pathe~1c,
and the Argume ntative. The. N.a~rntn;.e d1v1swn em?r~ces the. r.e lat~on
of facts and eve nts real or hct1t1ous . The Descriptive d1v1swn includes descriptions ~fall kinds.! The Did~ctic divi si~n comprehends,
as its nam e implies, all kinds of pieces winch are des1gn.e? to convey
instructi on . The Pathe tic division embraces such wntmgs as are
calculated to affoct the foelings, or exc! te the passions, and the Argu·
mentativ<:! division iucludes those only which are addressed to the un·
derstanding, with the intpn~i~m of affecting the Judgment. . T~ese
different divisions of composition are n?t always pre.served d1strnct,
. :Jut are sometimes united or mixed. With regard to forms of .expres·
'·· eion, a writer may express his ideas in various ways, thus layrng the
foundation of a distinction called SnLE.t
'. Style is th e peculiar mann e r in which a . writer expresses his
thoughts by words.
. .
• The re quisites of a good style are perspicmly §.and ornament.
' Ornament in style consists in the use of figur at ive langu:ige, 11.
the adaptation of the sound to the sense, and the selection ol
such express ions as are harm on ious and pl easing to the ear. .
There are four kinds of style founded on the d egree of perspicuity; nam e ly , THE CoNc.1sF., T~IE DrFFU.sE , THF: NERvous,,
and THE FEEBLE,-five kmds of style winch relate to the degree of ornament that is used; namely, THE DRY, THE PLAIN,

j

.' : • Th e plan in narrative writing is simpl.Y. the st.atcment of events in the
• , order of th eir occ urre nce; and the a111plij1calw11 1s th e. menllon: with va. rying deg re es of minuten ess in their statement, .of the. d1flerent cir'curnstances conn ec ted with these eve nts, accompanied by incidental re·
'· marks and reflections.
. .
t In desc ription s the prin c ipal point to whi ch to direct th~ attenhon 1s
e

'the selection of the circumstan ces .

Th e sce ne , o r the c1rcumstance,

1hould be broU<•ht with distin ctne ss and f'uln ess to the vi ew. We should
be placed as it ~ve re by the desc ription. in th e. midst of' .the grnup of 1~ar­
ticulars, and be made full y acqua111led with nH its pecuhant1es. That wlHch
ls called truth to natare is effectecl by the slulful se l ec t1n~1 and a.rra.ngement

" Anoth er class of poems, uniting the didar.tic and the descriptifO u
classes, may be mentioned, which are ca ll ed the Se ntim en1al. "Tht Pleasures of Memory," by Rogers, "The Pleasures of Hope," by Cnmp.
hy ( :oldsinith, arc of the same class, an cl can sc an:cly be loo higlily ct•
ti 111:1 tc' 1l.
~
t Th e author has here , as in snmo other parts of' the precedin g rnmark1 1
cl opartod frnm tho oxpross ion s of' J\.lr. 13onlh, to whose exce ll ent work on

----

Of

the c irc 11m s f:t11 CCS, atHf CCHl f' l.illll C8 the a.m'f!/{jir nf.1nn Of cl csc ript1ve W~lt•

Ing. 111 so nir' insta11ccs, cspcci:illy wl11' rc 1t '" dc eir:1~1 l n 1hat tho clcscnp·
tlon ehnnlcl he 111,Jcl and str ikin :;, th e cn 11111erat1011 ol c1rcL1111sla11ccs may
· be Ices full and 111in11l c.
" t See Vari et y of Expression, Le sson XXVl. 1 page 84., and the note on
l

p1eSee
86.
Lesson XX X , pa ge I 08.

See Lesso n XXX V., page 124. Figures impart anim:ttio1~ to style, and
for that reason, when properl y 111troduced, they add much to its beauty.
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ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

THE NEAT, THE ELEGANT, and THE F1.owEnY; and three
which have reference to the ideas which th e write r intends to
convey; namely, THE S1MP1,E, TllE AFFECTJ·:v, aml THE V1• •
HEME NT.
•
T11E CONC ISE STYT.E is one in which th e author compressCI
11i s iden s in the fowcst poss ibl e words, and employs those only
which are most expressive.*
Tim DIF FUS E STn•.: is that in which th e write r unfolds hit
thought fully, pla cing it in a variety of li ghts, and giving tlu1
reader every possibl e assistance for und e rs tanding it co111pletely. ·
THE NEnvous STYLE is that in which the writer gives a
strong and full impression of his me aning, employing none buL •
the most expressive words, and using those figures only which
will re nder the picture he would set before us more lively ond
compl e te.
Tim F1rnnE STYLE is the rev erse of THE NE1tvouR,-the'
author appears to have but an indistinct view of th e s ubj ect; hit
idea s seem loose and wavering; unmeaning words and loose
e pith e ts escape him; his expressions arc vague and gene ml; his
arrang-ement is indistinct and feeble, and our conception of his
me:rning will be faint.
T11E D1tY STYLE excludes all ornament of every kind, and,
content with being understood, aims not to please the fancy nor
the ear.
THF: PLAIN STYLE admits but little ornament. A writer of
this kind rests almost entirely on his sense ; but, at the snino •
time, studies to avoid disgusting us like a dry and harsh writer.
THE NEAT STYI.E is characterized by attention to the choice ·
of words, and th e graceful collocation of them . It admits considerable ornament, but not of th e hi g hest nor most s parkling kind.
AN EI.EGAN'!' STYLE possesses all the virtues of ornament
" Under th e head of Conciseness rn s tyl e may be noticed what is called
the f ,(l!'f111iC Style, from the inhahil:rnls nr Lar.onia, who were rcrnarknblo
for us ing few words. /Is an in s tan ce or that kind of s ty le, may he men•
ti o ne<l the ce le brated r ep ly of Leonidas th e k in g of S parta lo Xerxes, who,
with his army of ove r a million of m en, was opposed by Leonidas, with
only three huttdred . \.Vhen Xe r xes se nt to him with th e hau g hty di rection
to lay down his arm s, th e Spartan king replied with c haracte ri s tic· brevity,
" Come and take them."
•
A nother in s tan ce of the same is afford ed in the cel ebrated
Franklin to l\1r. Strahan, which is in th ese words:
"Ph il adelphia, July 5th, 1775. •
"lWr. Strahan,
"Yon arn a rn"mhr.r of I.hat. Parlinmr.nt. , and ha ve for111r1l part of that
trwjorit.y, wliicli Ji :rn coruln1111u!d 111 y nati ve co1111l.ry l.o dc ~s lr111:l.io11 .
' ' Y1111 It ave bcg u11 ln burn 011r tow11 s , HIHI to de stroy th e ir i11habil.ant.8.
"Look at your ha11d s, - th ey are s taiucd with the blood of your rela· tion !i i and your aoqtrni11tnnces .
"You aud I were long friend s ; you arc at present my enemy, and I am
·yours.
"ilenjamin Franklin."

307

without any of its excesses or de fec ts. It implies a great degree of perspicu ity and _propri ety ; purity in the choice of words,
and care and dexterity m their harmomous and happy arrangement; and while it informs the und e rstanding, it employs all the
. re9nisites to pl ease the fancy :rnd the car.
• 1'11E F1.owE1tY or l~LOIUIJ STYLE is marked by excess of ornament. Firrurative language abounds, and the writer seems
more inte nt ~1pon beauty of expression, than solid ity of thought.
. · THE SmPLE STY!-: is wh e re th e thoughts appear to rise naturally from the subject; the subject itself is consid e red with strict
regard to the rules of unity, and is presented without much ornament or pomp of language.
., '1'1rn AFFECTED STYJ,E is th e reverse of TIIE SIMPLE. The
writer uses words in forced and uncommon meanings. His
• U1oucrhts are strained and unnatural. His ideas arc clothed in
·pompous language; an~l th e ornaments by which they are decked are re markabl e for smgulanty rather than beauty.
l "'fnE VEHEMENT STYLE is characterized by a peculiar ardor.
~. It '.J a glowing style, the langunge of one whos"'. imag_in ations
and pass ions are heated and stron g ly affecte d by hrn subject. It
implies strength; but it is not inconsi~tent _with_ simplicity.*
· To acquire a good style, the followmg d1rect10ns must be re. garded.
I. Study clear ideas of the subject on which you are to write
~~ ~.

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2. Compose frequently, and with care.
C7
3. Make yourself acquainted with the style of the best au- /\.)'(
tho rs.
< 4. Avoid a servile imitation of any author whatever.
· 5. Adapt your style to th e subject, and to thos e to whom it is
addressed.
6. L et not attention to style be so devoted, as to prevent a
, higher deg ree of attention to th e thoughts.

•'

I.

<

· •Th e stuil ent w ho wishes for spe c im e ns of the various kinds of sty le
mention e d above, wi ll find q uite a co ll e c tion of them arran ged under th e ir
• approprio.te hea<ls, for examples in rhetoric, in o. volume rece ntl y pre pared by l\lrs. L. C. Tuthill , and printed anrl publi s hed by S. Babcock of New Ilavc n, call e d "The Young Ladies' Reader." It was the
i author's d ce i(rn to in se rt s u c h s peci mens in thi s volume , but h e find s it
'necessary to ~esc rv e the space which they wou ld occupy for other matte r
which he deems more important to the complet ion of hi s phn. For the
same reaso n h e has omitted t he spr.cimens which he inte nd e d lo present
in the respect iv e department." of Narral. iv e, Descriptive, Didactic, Pathetic, nnd /lr!i'"" " "l:ltivn writini;.
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308

ENGLISH COll'!POSITION.

AIDS TO

LESSON LXIX.
DlrR KCTfONS TO STUDENTS IN REVIF.WING AND COHl1F.GT·
ll'il&.'llljtA~ CQMl'OSl'OO.NS, BEFORli: THEY AllE Pllh:SENT·

£lj""m "!'HE TEACHER

Read ove r your exerci se to asc ertain, ] . wh ether the word1
arc correctly s pell ed; 2. th e pauses and ca pital letters are prope rly used ; 3. that th e possessive case is correctly written with
the apostrop he and the lette r s; 4 . the hyph e n place d between
th e par ts of a compound w o~<l, .and als~ use d at th e e nd of ~a
line wh e n part of th e word 1s rn one line a nd another part m
the succee din g line (recoll ectin g, in thi s case, that the lettera o/
lite snmc syllrdilc must all be written in th e same line) ; !i. tlmt tho
ma rk s of <1uotatio11 urc in se rted wh e n you lmvc burrowc u a eon•
t en ce or an exp ress ion from any one e lse; G. wh eth er tho pronouns a re all of the same number with th e ir antecedents, and
the verbs of the sa me numb e r with th eir nominatives ; 7. wheth,
e r you can not get rid of some of tl~c "ands " in your exercise,
by n1 ca ns of th e rul es laid down rn L esso n XX., a nd whether
so me ot her word s may not be omitte d without wea krming the
expression, a nd also wh eth er you hav e introdu ced all th e words
ne cessa ry for the full express ion of your ideas; 8. wh eth er you
hav e repeated the same word in th e same se nte nce, or in any
sentence nea r it, and have thu s bee n betray e d into a tautology
(See L esso n XXII.); 9. wh e th e r you cannot di vide some of your
Jong sen te nces into shorte r ones, a nd th e reby better preserve
the unity of the sentence (See Lesson XXXI.); and lastly; .
wh et he r part or parts of your exercise m ay not be divid ed into
separate paragraphs.

The following rules must also be <Jbscrved.

1. No abbreviutio11s ure nll owahle in prose, and nmnb crs (ex•
cept in dates ) must be ex pressed i11 words , not i11 figur es.
2. Jn a ll cases, exce ptin g where despatch is abso lute ly necessary, th e c harac te r&, a nd othe rs of a similar nature, must not
be us e d, but th e wh ole word must be written out.
3. The le tters of th e same sy llabl e mus t a lways be writte n in
th e sa me lin e . Wh e n the re is not room in a line for all the
le tters of a sy ll abl e , th ey must all be carried into th e next line;
and when a word is divid ed by pla c ing one or more of the syl·
lab les in one line, and the re mainder in th e following line , tho
hyph e n must al ways be pl ace d at th e end of the former line.
4. Th e titl e of th e pi ece mu st always be in a lin e by itself,
and shou ld be written in larger lett e rs than the exe rcise itself.
5. Th e exercise should be commenced not at th e ex treme lei\
hand of the lin e, but a little towards th e ri g ht. Every separate
paragraph shou ld also comme nce in the same way.

309

6. The crotchets or brackets which enclose a parenthesis
should be used as s pa ringly as possible. Their place may often
supplied by commas.
, _be
.

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TO 'l'EACHERS WITH REGARD TO THE WRITTEN
EXERCISES OP STUDEN77S.

·' I. Examin e the exe rc ise in refe rence to all those points laid
down in th e directions for stud e nts in reviewing and correcting
.UJeir compositions (see page 308).
.
2. Merits fo r composition should be pre dicated on th e ir n eatness, correctness (in th e particulars stated in th e. direc tions .to
pupils, page 308), le ng th, style, &c.; but th e . high est !nents
1hould be g ive n for th e stro ng-est ev i t~ence of rnte.ll ec t 111. the
.Produ ctiu11 o r ideas, a nd or1g111ul se nl11n ents un<l furms ol cxi. pression.
" 3. ·word s that a re misspelt, should be spell e d by the whole
.. class, and those .words which are frequ e ntly misspe lt should be
' recorded in a book ke pt for that purpose, and occnsion ally spelt
.. on th e slate by th e c lass.
. .
4. Keep n book in whi ch the stud e nt m.ay h av~ th ~ pr.1v1l ege
to record s uc h c01npus 1t1u11 s as are of s up enor me nt . . L l11s book
should be kept in th e hands of th e teach er, and re mam th e pe r·man ent prope rty of th e in stituti on. Thi s will hav e an excell e nt
,effect, es pec ially if ad ditional me rits are g iven fo r the recordmg
. of a composition.
.
..
.
• 1 5. A s hort lectur e on the s ubj ec t of the compos1t10n ass1gn~d
to a cla ss, showing its bearings, its divis ions, and the . manner m
\vhich it s hould be trea ted , will greatly facilitate the1r progress,
and inte rest th em in the exe rcise.
6. H ave a se t of arbitrary marks, whi c h shou ld be explain ed
·and und e rstood by th e class, by which the exe rcise should be
corrected. This is , in fact, nothi ng less than a method of short
hand, and will save th e troub le of 111uch '~riling.
.
.
, " 7. J11sisl upo11 the point, that the exercise should be wntte11 m
. ." the student's best hand, with care, and without haste. For tins
,purpose, ample time s lwnld always ? e allowe? fo~ the prodnct10 11
of th e exercise. A we e k at leas t, 1f not a fortmght, should mterven c between the ass ig nin g and th e requiring of the exercise.
.Negli gence in th e mec ha ni.cal execution, will induce th e neglec t
· .of th e more importa nt q11aht1es.
.
8. R eguire th e co mp ositi ons to be written on altern ate pages,
leaving one page blank, for s.u c h rem a rks as may be s uggeste d
by th e exe rc ise, or for s upplying such words or se nte nces as may
have accidentally been om itted.
• •. 9. In correctin g th e exe r c i s~s, care .should be .tal.rnn to pre . serve as mu c h as possible th~ ideas which the pupil rnte nd ed . to
; express, making suc h alterat10ns only as are necessary to g ive
.them clea rn ess, unity, Etre ng th, a nd harmony, and a proper co nnexion with the subject, for it is the student's own idea wl11ch

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ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

ought to be "fought how to slioot." An idea thus humored ~ill­
thrive better than one which is not a native of the soil.
10. It is recommended that a uniformity be required in the
size and quality of the paper of the exercises of the class -that
the name (real or fictitious) of the writer, together with the date
and number of the composition, be placed conspicuously on tht
back of the exercise. The writing should be plain and without .
ornament, so that, no room being left for flourish or display, the
principal attention of each student may be devoted to the language
and the sentiments of his performances. It is also recommend·
ed, that the paper on which the exercise is written be a letter
sheet folded once, or in quarto form, making four leaves or eight
pages. This form is of use, especially in the earlier 8tages of
his progress, because it enables him more easily to fill a page,
and encourages him with the idea that he is making progress in
his exercise. In the writing of compositions, a task to which all
students address themselves with reluctance, nothing should be
omitted by the teache r, however trivial it may at first appear,
by which he may stimulate the stud e nt to exertion.
.
11. Accommodate the corrections to the style of the student'•
own production. An aim at too great correctness may possibly
cramp the genius too much, by rendering the student timid and
diffident; or perhaps discourage him altogether, by producing
absolute despair of arriving at any decrree of perfection. l•'or
this reason, the teacher should show the student where he ha1
erred, either in the thought, the structure of the sentence, the
syntax, or th e choice of words. Every alteration, as has already
been observed, should differ as little as possible from what the
student. has writ.ten ; as giving an entire new cast to the thought
and expression will lead him into an unknown path not easy to
follow, and divert his mind from that original line of thinking
which is natural to him.
12. In large institutions, where a class in composition is nu- .
merous, the teache r may avail himself of the assistance of .the
~ore advanced students, by requiring them to inspect the exercises of the younger. This must be managed with great deli~
cacy; and no allusion be allowed to be made out of the recita~
tion room, by the inspector, to the errors or mistakes which he
has di~covered. He should b_e required to note in pencil, his ,
correct10ns 3:nd remarks, and sign his_ own name (also in pencil) ~ '··
to the exercise under that of the wnter, to show that he is.re· ·*I,
sponsible for the corrections.
- '

l
. The following exercise is presented merely to show the mode ·
111 which, in conformity with the sugtrestions J·ust made tho etU• . ·.,
..
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"'
.
dent ' 8 compos1t1011s
may Le corrected.
The exercise ' is one
a class of very young students. By this example the teacher ·~
will be.come acquainted with a set of arbitrary diarks for the ~
correction of errors, wh~ch may easily be explained to a class,
and when understood will save the teacher much writing.
·'

or .

I

311

Thus, when a word is misspelt or incorrectly written, it will
be sufficient to draw a horizontal line under it, as in the follow'ing exercise. If a capital is incorrectly used, or is wanted in1atead of a small letter, a short perpendicular mark is used.
·When '· entire words or expressions are to be altered, they are
1
aurrounded with Llack lines, and the correct expression is writ.ten on the blank page on the left. Whe~ merely the order of
the words is to be altered, figures are wntten over the words
designating the order in which they are to be rend.
.(,..

carriage

a

stretched
west;

distance,

Jwant of Unity.

It was a beautiful evening, in the month of August, when
I alighted from my carraige, at the house of [my[ friend in
1
the picturesque village of M. The broad and beautiful
bay lay streched out with its calm and glossy bosom to the
west, while around me, in the distance might be seen little
cotta-ges, trees, and hills, forming a m~st beautiful scenery.
The setting Sun threw his golden beams upon the water,
I

a
related
elements
each

that
was
of people

2

1

!which did not look now like the grave of human beings.
Tempted by the beauty of the evening, I took a walk
along the beach with [iTIJ[ friend. During the conversation,
he [remarked, if you please I will relate [ the account of a
shipwreck, which happened here a short ~ime ago. It was
on a night when the /tempests [ seemed to be at war with
other, !when[ one of the vessels belonging to this port
;\[might be/ seen approaching the coast making signals of
distress. Soon notwithstanding the severity of the weathI
er a considerable number were gathered on the beach, for
I

;\

there were many expecting friends: and /the [ fears [they ~elt/
for their safet~ together with [their[ pity for the sufferers,
induced them to use every exertion for the safety of those
·
on board.

..._t. ..... _ - · ......... _ ...;...._.
.
. The ehrleke -Or the ~ unhappy person~ · 1mixe~1 ·with the

roar of the wind and the driving of the rain, seemed more
like a frightful dream than [the[ dreadful reality. · ._
ship could long survive such a tempest, and we were
soon convinced that the vessel before us
~

launched

determining

. though it should endanger

( .)
were taken into
Despairing of saving more, the hardy fishermen reached
the shore nearly exhausted with fatigue.
them, I assisted others in carrying the survivors

But no jvessel could stand such a tempest Jong, and it j
[;asgoonevident to us that she[ was~st going to pieces.
At length, as the storm abated [~ttle [ , four hardy fishermen [got out[ their little boat, [~~ [ to do their best
to save the sufferers, even [if it endangered [ their own
lives, while we stood on the shore to render assistance to
any who might be saved. After rowing for some time, and
making but slow progress, they finally reached the ship, but
only to find it fast filling with water!. One man was floating near, on a small piece of board, with a little girl lashed
to him. These [they placed in[ the boat, although but little
hope could be entertained o~ t_heir recovery. \They at last!
arrived at the shore, despamng of savrng any more, and
.almost worn out with fatigue.[ While some attended to
the brave fishermen, I and some others carried the per-[
The man
was indeed dead, but the little girl recovered, and is
[now stayingj with one of those who were the means of
saving her !ife1 until )1er friends can be found.

!'sons who had been saved[ to the nearest house.

to stay

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Tuouau a v¢riety of opinions exist as . to

LESSON LXX .

the imlividual by

MARK S USED BY PRINTERS IN THE CORRECTION OF PROOF·
SLIEETS. 'l'I<:CHNICAL TERMS RELATING TO BOOKS.
Many mistakes in printing may be avoi<lecl, when the printer nnd tht
writer c learly und e rstand one another. Jt is th oug ht it will be useful lo
present in this volume a view of th e manner in whi ch proof-sheets are cotrected.
On the opposite page is a specimen of a proof~sheet, with the correc•
Lio ns upon it. A little attention will readily enab le the student to under- ·
stand th e object of th e various m arks which it con tain s, particularly if l&k·
en in connexion with th e explanation here g iven.
'
An inv erte d lette r is irulicatc<l by the character a nd in the modo roprt•
scnlcd i11 .No. 2.
When a wrong letter is discovered, a lin e is drnwn through it nnd tht
pro llc r lette r written in the margi n, as in No. I. The co rrec tion is madt
rn tie same manner when it is desired to subs titute one word for anotl~or.
If a le tte r or word is found to be omitted, a care t (/\) is put under lLI
pl ace, and the le tter or word to be suppli ed is written in the margin; u ha
N os. 8 and I!!.
If' there be an omission of sevc rnl words, or if it is desired to insert. a
n ew clause or sen te nce, which is too long to adm it of being written in the
side margin, it is customary to indi cate by a caret the place of the omia·
s ion, o r l'or the in se rti on of th e ne w matter, and lo write on the botlo1n
margin the se nte nce to be suppli ed, connecti ng it w ith the caret by a liue
drawn from th e one to th e other; as in No. 15.
If a su pe rfluous word or lette r is detec ted, it is marked out by drawing '
a stroke throug h it, and a characte r which stands for the Latin word dt/c
(expunge ) is written agai nst it in th e margin; as in No. 4.
Th e tranepos ition of words or le tters is indi cated as in the three exam•
pi es marked No. 12.
.
.
1f two words are imprope rl y joined togeth e r, or there is not sufficient
space betwee n them , a care t is t o be interposed, ancl a characte r dcnolio1
separation to be marked in the margin opposite; as in No. 6.
If the parts of a wo rd are improperly separated, they a re to be linked
togethe r by two ma rks , rese mblin g pare nth eses placed ho rizontally, ont ·
above and the other he neath the word, as in the manner indi ca ted in No. !O,
Whnrn the s paces he lween words arc too large, tlii s is lo be indicated
in a s imil a r mann er, exce pting that ins tead of' two 111arks, as in tho cut
of n word improp e rl y separated, only one is emp loyed; as in No. 9.
"Vhere it is desired to make a new parngra ph, the appropriate characlef
(1T) is placed at the beginning of the se ntence, and also noted in tho mll'o
gin opposite; as in No. 10.
\Vhere a passage has been imprope rly broken into two ,rara~rapha, tht
parts are to be hooked together, and the words "no break' wntten oppoo
site in the margin; as in No. 18.
If a word or cla use has been marked out or alte red, and it is afterwanle
th ought best t o retain it, it is dotted be neath, and the word stet (let il
stand) written in th e maq~in; as in No. 1:3.
'J'h c punctuation marks a rc variously i11di calctl; - the comma nm) eoml•
colon are noted in th e margin with a perpendicular lin e on th e right, u la
No. 2 1 ; th e colon and pe riod have a circle drawn round th e m, ae in tht
two examples marked No. 5; the apostrophe is place d betwee n two con•
vcrgcnt. marks like thn letter V, as in No. I J ; the note of admiration aod
inte rrogation, as also the parenthesis, th e brac ket., aml the reference marU,
in the same monner as the apostrophe; the hyphe n hetwce n two perpea•
dicular lin os, as in No. 7, aud the dash th e same as the hyphe n.
· .

w~om

2

9

the art of printing was

first discovered ; yet all authorities concur in
admitting Peter Schoeffer to be the person
who invented cast metal types, having learned
the art of -ef. cutting the letters from the Gut•0 tembergs ~ he is also supposed to have been
.~# the first who engraved on copper plates~
11

11

The

following testimony is prese:e tl in the family,

. •....., by

Jo. Fred.

.._....

..._,

1 '[" Peter
<

Faustus

1

/-/

8

e/

of Ascheffenburg:
.......,,,,

Schaeffer of Gernsheim, perceiving~ 9'.'<i&.jtd.

·~'V' his master Faus~ design, and being himself
11

a. (clesirous ~ rd e ntly) to improve the art, found

··~

out (by th e good providence of God) the
method of cut ting (i.!1..e.f~l.e_1'l_~9 the characters

13

0tet.

in a rnatr-ix, that the le tters might easily be
~ '/ singly wst t instead of b~ng cut.

uI vately

He pri-

e•/

12

wt matricesl for the whole alphabet :

. Faust was so please d with the contrivance

• I&/\.

If

17

1t1/

· that he promised eter to give him his only
. j
CI . .
.m marriage,
.
. 3 . A:a
a:: I
1Gdaug I1ter ---.!.!:!_~na
a promise
.
/whi c h he soon after performed .)

11~// CBut

18

,, 0

/zeal

there were/\ many difficulties at first

with these letters, as there had been before

3

with wooden ones, the metal being too soft

3

to support the forc e of the im~pression : but
~

asom.
.ficil.

20 '~
-'

this defec t was soon remedied, by mixing
3

.,

1

a substance w~th th e metal which sufficiently
ancl when

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315

ENGLISH COllIPOSITION.

AIDS TO

/u dl.owecl /,•d

... tie;ie ntatucM,

nuZtJtet

t/u l:tteu cad( fom

12

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Capital letters are indicated by three horizontal lines drawn bcne1tli
them; small capitals , by two hori zontal lines; Italic by a single line; willl
~he words, Cap., .8: Cap., and ltal. written in the m argin. When a word
~s !mprope rly Itahc~z ed, it should be underscored, and Rom. written ogain•l
1t 111 the margin. 1•.xarnplcs illustrati vc or all these cases will ho found UD•
tier No. :1.
A hrok"n line .iR i111licatcd hy .• 'i111plc ~trnkc of. the pen in the mnrgla,
draw11 either horizontally, or ae 111d1catecl 111 No. lb .
A brok e n letter iH i11c.li c alcc.l by a stroke of the pen drawn under it and
a cross in the margin .
'
\l\Th e n a letter from a w»ong fonl, that is, of a different size from the
rest, appears in a word, it is to be noted by passing the pen through it and
writing 11![. in the margin, as in No. 17.
'
A space which requires to be depressed is to b e marked in the margiA
by a pe rpendicular line betwee n two horizontal lines ; as in No. 14.

I;
, \·

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

The Italic words in the Old and New Testaments are those which have
corresponding words in the original Hebrew or Greek, but they were
· _: ~ded by the translators to complete or explain the sense.

Small Pica.
Long Primer.
llomgeois.

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Abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz.
Abcdefghijldmnopqrstuvwxyz.
Abcdefghijk lmnopqrstuvwxyz.
A bcd e fg hijkl rnnopqrstuvwxyz.

Brev1er.
Minion.

A bcdP.f'ghijklmnopqrstuv wxyz.
Abcdef'gbijklmnopqrstuvwxyz.

Nonpareil.

Abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz.

Penrl.

Alicdefg lujklmnopqn;tu vwxyz.

As it may be_ interestin g to know the frequency with which some of the
le tter s occur, 1t may h e re be s tated, that, in the printer's cases_, for every
h~ndr e d of the le tter q th e re are 200 of th e lette r :r, 4-00 or k, 800 of b.
l.100 of c, 1.,000 c"ch of i, n, o, and s, 1,250 of a, 'l.,500 of l, and G,000 or
the lette r e.
A book is said to be in foli o when one sheet of paper makes but two
!e~ves _o r four rages . Wlien the sheet m akes four leaves or eight pnge1,
1t 1s said to be m Quarto form; eight leav es or sixteen pages, in Octavo 1 · ·
twe lve l e :~~ es or tw e nty -four pages, Duodecimo; eighteen leaves, Octodeeuno . . I hese term s are thu s abbrcviatcc.1: Fol. for Folio; 4-to for Quar•
to; 8vo. for Octavo; 12 m o. for Duodec1rno; 18mo., 24-s., 32s ., G4-s . signif}'
re~~ect~~ely tlrnt the s hee.t is rlivided into e.ightee n, twenty-four, &c'. lcave1.
. J he l 1tlc-pagc 1s. the f11·R_t page, cont:un111g the titl e; and a picture fllclllg 1t 1s ca lled th e I• ro11t1sp1c cc .
·
Vig11ctte is a Fren<?;h term used to d es ig nate the de scriptive or orna•
m e ntal picture, sometimes placed on the title-page of a book, someti111e1
at th e h ead of a chapter, &c.
The Ru nnin~-title_ is the word or se nte nce al the top of every page gen•
erally printed 111 cap itals or Itali c letters.
\l\Th e n the pag-e is divided i11to several parts hy "blank •race, or a line .
runn111g from the top to th e lmttom each divi sion is called a column·~ ..
' , '
in ~ihles_, dictionaries, spelling-book;, 11ews papers, &c.
1 he le tters A, B,,c, &c., and ~2, A,3, &c., at the bottom of the page,
ar; .marks for d1rechng the book-binde r 111 collecting and folding- the sheell.
l he _r alch-word IS the word at.. the bottom of the f"'ge , 011 the right hnnd,
wlnr:h '"repeatr.il at. I.hr. lir,g11111111g of Ili c ""xt in orclc" fo Ahow tl1nl lhe
pag"" Hucceecl 0110 another iu proper orde r. It iH se ldom iu sc rtcd in booka
reccutly pri11ted.
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" The next. two sizes of type larger than the above are called English
and Great Pruner, and all large r than th ese Double Pica Two Line Pica

Thre ~ L!ne Pica, Fifteen Line Pica, &c., accorc.ling as' they exceed th~
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LESSON LXXI.
OBITUARY NOTICE.
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'. ·,.. An Obituary Notice is designed to commemorate the virtues which
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distinguished an individual r ece ntly deceased. Writings of this kind
,.' are generally fugitive in their character, and seldom survive the oc- ' casion which called th e m forth. They are not d esigned to present
many of the event• of th e lifo of th e individual, but rnthcr a general
1um111ary of his character. An obituary notice is a kind of writing
generally confined to p e ri odical publications, and des titute of the
dignity of biography, and the minute detail of memoirs.
MODEL.

OBITUARY NOTICE OF DR. MATIGNON.
. " '. The Reverend Francis A. Matignon, D_. D., who died on the 19th of
Septembe r, 1818 , was born in Paris, November 10th, 1753. Devote d to
. letters and re ligion from hi s ear liest youth, his progress was .rapid and his
, piety conspicuous . He attracted the notice of the learned faculty, as he
passed .through the several grades of c lassical and theological studies;
and , having taken th e degree of Bachelor of Divinity, h.e was ordained a
Priest, on Saturc.lay, the l!Jth of Septem be r, 177U, I.he very day of th e month
and week, which , forty years after , was to be his las t. In the year 1782,
he_was admitted a licentiate, and rece iv ed the degree of Doc.t or of Divinity
from the college of the Sorbonne in 1785. At this time he was appointed
· Regius Professor of Divinity in the college of Navarre, .in which seminary
_he performed his duties for several years, although his slate of health
.was not good.
..' His t ale nts and piety had reco mmend ed him to the notice of n Prelate
'. in great credit, (the Cardinal De Bri e nne,) who obtained _for him the grant
of an annuity from the king, Louis I.h e Sixteenth, which wns suflkient for
,111 his wants, established him in inc.l e pe nder1ce, and took away all anxiety
f for the future. But the ways of Providence are inscrutable to the wisest
~ . ind bes t of the children of men. The revolu\i on, wb.ich dethroned his
beloved monarch , and stained the altar of his God with the blood of holy
men , drove Dr. Matignon an exile from his native shores. He fled to
.England, where he remain e d several montl1s, and then re turned to France,
.to prepare for a voyage to the Unite c.l _States. He landed in Baltimore
: ind was appointed by Bishop Carroll, Pastor of the Catholic Church j,{
4Joston, at which place he arrived August 20th, 1792.
· The talen ts of Dr. Matignnn were of the _highest order. In him were
united a sound .unders tanding. a rich and vigorous imagination ; and a
Jogicnl precision .o r thought: I Ii• learning was c xtcn sivo, c;ritical, nnd pro, ,foun:I, 111111 _nil l11H produc,t1.'"'". Wt!ro "'.'" l'IY cnHl, •y111111ct.ricnlly formed,
· and beautifully col()red. 1 he fathers of t 1e church, and the great divines
of every age were his familiar friends. Hi• divinity was not merely specu'• Jati~e, nor ·mere ly practical ; it was the. b! ended influence of thought,
·:feel mg, and action . He had learned d1V1111ty as a scholar taught it as a
" _pro~essor, fel_t it as a worshipper, and diffused it as a faithful pastor. His
gemus and Ins virtues were unc.lerstood; for the wise bowed to his superior
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knowledge, and the humble caught the spirit of his devotions. With the
unbelieving and doubtful, he reasoned with the mental strength of the
apostle Paul ; and he charmed back the penitential wanderer with the
kindness and affoction of John the Evangelist. His Jove for mankind
flowed in the purest cu rrent, and his piety caught a glow from th e inten1lt7
of his feelings. Rigid and scrupulous to himself, he was charitable nnd In· ·
1lulge11t to others. 'l'o youth, in a particular manner, he was forgiving and
fatherly. 'Ni th him the tear of penitence washed away the stains of erroq
for he had gone up to the fountains of human nature, and knew nil ill
weaknesses. Many, retrieved from folly and vice, can bear witness ho"
deeply he was sk ill ed in the science of parental government; that science
so little understood, and, for want of which, so many evils arise. It ii I
proof of a great mind, not to be soured by misfortunes nor narrowed b7
any particular pursuit. Dr. Matignon, if possible, grew milder and more
indulgent, as he advanced in years. The storms of life had broken the ,
heart of the man, but out of its wounds gushed the tide of sympathy and '
universal Christian charity.
The woes of life crush the feeble, make
more stupid the dull, all!! more vi11dictive the proud; but the great mind
a11d coutrite soul are expanded with purer benevolence, and warmed wllh
brighter hopes, by suflering, - knowing, that through tribulation and an~
guish the diadem of the saint is won.
.,
To him whose heart has sicke 11 ed at the selfishness or m:mkind, and who ·
has seen the low a11d trilling pursuits of' the greater proportion of human
beings it is sweet and refreshing to contemp late the philosopher, delighted
with the vi,io11s of other worlds, a111l ravished with the harmonies of nature, pursuing his course abstracted from the bustle around him; but how
much nobler is the course of the moral and Christian philosopher, who
teaches the ways of God to man . He holds a holy communion with
Heaven, walks with the Creator in the garden at every hour in the daT,
without wishing to hide himself. 'Vhile he muses, the spirit burns withm
him, and the high influences of the inspiration force him to proclaim to ·
the children nf men the deep wonders of divine Jove.
'
But this contemplation must give angels pleasure, when they behold thia
purified and elevated being dedicating his se rvices, not to the mighty, not
to the wise, but to the humblest creatures of sorrow and sufferin g. Haye
we not seen our friend leav in g these sublime contemplations, and entering '>
the habitations of waut and woe 7 relieving their temporal 11ecessitie11 •
administering the consolations of religion to the despairing soul in the
agonies of dissolution 7 Yes, the sons of the fo rest in th e most chilling
c limat es, the tenants of the hovel, th e erring and the prolligatc, can bear ·
witness with what patience, earnestness, constancy, and mildness he la•
bored to make them better.
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l n manners, Dr. M.ati gmtr1 was an accornplished ge ntl eman, posscseinl(
that kindness of heart :uul delicacy of feeling, whi ch made him study the
wants and anticipate the wishes of all he knew. He was well acquainted
with the politest courtesies or society, for it must not, in accounting for ·
his accomplishments, be forgolte u, that he was born and educated in the
bo~om of rafinemcnt; that ho was associated with c hevaliers and noble1,
and was patronized by canlin:il s and premiers. In his earl ier life, it wu
not uncommon to see ecc lesiastics mingling in society with philosophen
and courtiers, and still preserving the most perfect apostolic purity in their ·
lives and convers.,tion. The scrutini zing eye of infid el philosophy WU
upnn them, and tl11,Re nnhcli cv"'" wnulcl l1ave hailccl it nR a triumph to
ha ve' c:111ght thc111 in the sl ight.1'81. d"viat.inn from their 1•rnfr,ssi1111s. ilul
nn great.er proof of the sou 11<.l11 ess of their faith, or the arc or of tl1eir piety,
cou ld he asked, than the fact, that, from all the bishops in France at the
commencement of the revolntion , amounting to one hundred and thirty• ·
e ight, lint three only were found wanting in integrity and good faith, when
they were put to the test; and it was such a test, too, that it could have
been supported by religion only. In passing such an ordeal, pride, forti·
tudc 1 philosophy, and even insensibility would have failed. The whole

ENGLISH COl\iPOSITION.

319

, . 1trength of human nature was shru nken and blasted, when opposed to the
~ besom of the revolution. Then the bravest bowed in terror, or fled in
, affright; but then these disciples of the Jowly Jesus taught mankind how
they could sufle r for his sake.
Dr. Ma'.ignon loved his native cou ntry, and always expressed the deepest interests in her fortunes and fate; yet his patriotism never infringed on
· bis philanthropy. He spoke of I-:ngla nd , as a great nation which contained
much to admire and imitate; and his gratitude kindled at the remembrance
of British munificence and generosity to the exiled priests of a hostile na' lion of different religious creeds.
When Dr. Matignon came to Boston, new trials awaited him. His
' ·predecessors in this place wanted either talents, character, or perseverance; and nothin~ of consequence had been done towards gathering and
• directing a flock. fhe good people of New-England were something more
than suspicious on the subject of his success; they were suspicious of the
' · Catholic doctrines. Their ancestors, from the settlement of the country,
had been preaching against. the Chu rch of Rome, and their descendants,
even the most enlightened, fe lt a strong impression of undefined and undefinable dislike, if not hatred, towards eve ry papal relation. Absurd and foolish legends· of the Pope and his religion were in common circulation, and
the prejuclice was too deeply rooted ti;> be suddenly eradicated, or even op·.posed. Jt re<j11ired n thorough acquaintance with the world, to know pre··~isely how lo meet those sentime nts of a whole people.
Violence and
., indiscretion would have destroyed nil hopes of success. Ignorance would
have exposed the cause to sarcasm and contempt, and enthusiasm, too
manifest, would have produced a reaction, that would have plunged the
infant establi shm ent in absolnte ruin. Dr. Matignon was exactly fitted to
encounter all the"e difliculties. And he saw them, and knew his task,
with the discernment of a shrewd politician. \<Vith meekness and humility
he disarmed the proud; with prudence, learning, and wisdom, he met the
captious and slanderous, and so gentle and so just was his cou rse, that even
·. the censorious forgot to watch him, and the malicious were too cunning
lo attack one armed so strongly in honesty. for four years he susta ined the
weight of this cha rge alone, until Providence sent him a coadjutor in the
person of the present excellent Bishop Cheverus, who seemed made by
nature, and fitted by educ.ation and grace, to soothe his griefs by sympathy,
{for he too had suflered,) to cheer him by the blandishments of taste and letters and all congenial pursuits and habits; and, in fact, they were as for identified as two embodied minds could be. These holy seers pursued their reli. · gious pilgrimage together, blessing a nd being blessed, for more than twenty
. . years; and the young Elisha had received a double portion of the spiri t,
· · and worn the mantle of his friend and guide, long before the sons of the
prophets heard the cry of, my father, 111y Jathe1·, the chariot of hrarl and
the horsemen therccif. May the survivo r fiiul consolation in the religion he
teaches, and long he kept on his journey, to bless the cruise of oil in the
dwellings of poverty and widow ho od, and to cleanse by the power of God
the leprosy of the sinfu l soul.
'i Far from the sepulchre of his fathers repose th e ashes of the good and
'. great Dr. Mat.ig11011; but his grave is not as among str:u1gcrs, for it was
. ·watered hy the tears of an aflectionate flock, and his memory is cherished
, by all who value learning, honor gen iu s, or love devotion.
« The writer of this brief notice offers it, as a faint and rude memorial
·only of the virtues of the man whMe c haracter he venerated. Time must
usungc the wounds of f!ri..f" herore he, who loved him most and knew him
best, can attempt his epitaph.

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ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

LESSON LXXII.
CRITICAL NOTICE.

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Select some biographical work; state any impression yon may hue
received of it, as to the agt>,- his conte mporaries, - his influence,his difficulties and advantages,- the style of the narrative, &c.

321

' His p1 ivate life exhibits a >ple ndid catalogue of virtues ; lo his temper·
ance, he owed hia long sojonrn .upon.earth ; to his r~solution and .industr:y,
his wide-spread fame ; to his smcerll~ and moderatwn, the a1Te.ct1on of lus
friends ; to his frugality, the 111eans of. benevo_lence ; and to h'" prndence
and inlegrit y, the es teem and approbation of l11s. countrym~1i. The temptations of courts, and the favors heaped upon l11m by prmces and nobles,
• robbed him of none of these virtues. These he retaine d, with a contente d
mind and clear conscience, till he was summoned lo receive his final ra·
ward.

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~ODEL.
I have selected the Life of Dr. Benjamin Franklin, written by himself lo
a late period. The style of the work is simple and concise, which is the
peculiar characteristic of all his writings ; indeed, his writing principally
for the advantage of the people,·( though the most elevated ranks may be
benefited by his in>tructions,) ncco1111lH for his desire of expressing himself
in plai11 and simple language. The first part of the book, not being intended
for public perusal, is wrillen with more minuteness of particulars, than it
otherwise would have been ; he even apologizes to his son for the famili·
arity of the style ; observing, that " we do not dress for a private com•
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pany as for a formal hall."
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Dr. Franklin was remarkable from l1is youth for persevering and inde·
fatigahle industry. This, with his prudent and reflecting mind, secured
him his fame and importance in the world. He early manifested a love
learning, which his humble birth and narrow circumstances allowed him
few opportunities of indulging ; but when th ey did offer, he never suffered
them to escape unimpr°''ecl. He was frugal in his mode of life, that he
might employ hi~ sayin~s i.n the pur?hase of books ; and diligent at hi1
work, that he might gain t11ne for l11s sturhes. Thus, all obstacleR were
removed in .his pursuit of kn?wledgc. "Ve bcho_ld him ~merging by dcgr~
fro•? ohscurrty .i then a<lyanc~ng mor7 and more. 1.nto notice, an<l soon takrng
a l11gh stand m the est11na11on of l11s fellow-c1t1zens.
·
He was continually before the world in various characters. As a natural
philosopher, he surpassed all his eontemporaries ; as a politician, he ad·
herecl to hi~ country during her long 'lruggle for independence, and,
throughout his political career, was distinguished for his firm integrity
and skilful negotiations ; as a citizen, his character shines with peculiar
lustre ; he seems to have examined every thing, to discover how he might
add to the happiness of his friends . Philadelphia shows with delight, the
many ins titutions he has founder! for her advantage, and boasts of the bene•
fits conferred on !1er son3 by his philanthropic zeal. Indeed, to do good .
was the grand a11n of his life. From the midst of his philosophical re•
searches, he descends to allend to the daily interests of his fellow creatures;
after bringing down lightning from the clouds, he invents a stove for the
comfort of men. In the midst of the honors paid him for his discovery
the sameness of lightning with electricity, he rejoices in the thought, that ,
the knowledge of this important fact might contribute to the safety o(
mankind.
·
A i'ter .his death! even, .his example is of .gre:>t use ; to the young, hi1
aclf-acq1urcd lnarnrnl{, which prnr.11rnd fol' h11u Lhn honorary di•ti11ction1 o(
~lu~ 1':11r'.'l""111 1111ivcrHitin" a11d philo,opl1ical . Hocietics, affoJ'dH 11 prnctical
1lhistl'at1011 of the \'al11e of per"c"crance aud 111d11stry; hi• 11dvancc<l ycan
o!lcr to the aged an excellent model for the occupation of their time.
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LESS 0 N L XX II I.
COLLEGE EXERCISES."
The prece ding lessons, it is thought, contain most, if not all, oft.he
principles n e c essary lo be understood by the student to prepare lu~
forJhe preparation of such 1M<ercises, as are generally prescnbed 10
an ·academic course. The following specimens of tlrn exercises of
those to whom academic honors have been awarded, are presented
with the hope, that they may be useful to those who may hereafter
~ave similar excrci~e s lo perform.

CONFERENCE, COLLOQUY, AND DIALOGUE.
A Confere nce is a discoursing between two or more, for the purpose of instruction, consultation, or deliberation; or, it may, in a
technical sense, be defined, an examination of a suhjecl by comparison. It is a spe cies of conversati on, and is generally confined to particular subj e cts and descriptions of persons.
.
., A Dialogue signifies a spe ech be tween two persons. It is mosllr.
, fictitious , and is written as if it were spoken. It is nlwnys forma,
' and contains an assertion or question with a reply and a rejoinder.
I;; . ' A Colloquy is a spe cies of dialogue. It literally signifies, the act of
" lnlking togethe r, and is not con tined lo any particular number of
per~ons nor subjects.
• The spe cimens and mocl e ls h e re presented are taken, by the consent
of the respe ctive authors, from th e file s of one of our mos t respectable
· universiti es . To tlie highly re s pected President of that university , the
author is greatl y indebted for the kind facilities rendered by which he was
. enabled to exa.mine the files of that institution, and to select such as he
• had been permitted lo copy. He does not, however, consider himself
,' authorized more particularly to nam e the i11stitution nor its presiding officer.
I\ is due, also, to the gentlem e n whose juvenile exercises he. h;~s been
pormitt"d '""" lo 1ir<•sc11t, to "tat", that their rol11ct1111t pcrm1ss1on has
boon given wit.Ii the 11ndt!r~t.a11tli11g , t.hal 11inir 11a111cR will not lio mo11lionod
· " In connexion with the cxcrc.i"' "· '!'lie 'lncst.ion 1JJay 1 pmhnl'" • he asked,
why exerc ise s of this kind are prc sentc<I at all. To tl11s the author replies,
that a knowl e dge of what has been done on any given occasion cannot be
, without its use to those who are c:1lled upon lo exert their talents on any
1 1imilnr occasion; and if any of the following exercises should he considered
as specimeus, rather than modds , the author can only repeat. what he has
\, already said in the latter part of the second note on page 145.

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JllODEL OF A THEME.

"E•t Deus in nobi s ."

Ov1D, Lib. I.

Metaphysical s pr.culat.ions arc, of all others, the most wild ancl most Oll
posed to error. The re lation be tween vvlition and ac t.ion, mind and body,
the d ecis ive influcncc of the former o n the mo t.ions of the lallc r, and how
thi s i11tcrco11rse oht.ains, are •ubt.letics, the inve st igati o n of which has e•er •>
baffled thr. ingenuity of philosophers. Nor is reasoning on thi s s ubject, ia '
any respec t, conclus ive. It sets o ut from hypothes is, and, ins tead of lend·
ing to any just conclusions, us ually leaves the inquire r in a labyrinth
doubt.
In spite of these obstacles, however, there is something in the mind
man, that takes a delight in divin!l' into these myste ries ; a curiosity which
is always alive and restless, gras ping at some hidden truth ; a fan cy that i1
prone lo explore an unknown path, - that lo ves to float in whimsical reveri es. "E8t l)cus in 11obi:i."
On our first introdu ction to this world, whet.her our minds arc free from
ideas and vacant, "Jike a pi ece of white paper," as Mr. Lock e quaintly
phrases it ; and, if thi s be the fa ct, whether, as originally cast hy the crea·
tor, th ey differ as wide ly in quality, as the various kinds of white paper ,
from the mill; -are questions whi c h ll:l\'e no t yet bee n determined. \Vheo
we r:unlemplatc soc iety, we arc struck with the c.livc rs itie9 of c haracter,
whic h it di , closes . \V c as k ourselves, how it happens, that such varietie1
of genius e x ist ; how it is, that one person has a m a the matical, another k
p oe tical turn of mind ; that one has an imagination, that " bounds from
earth to heaven, and sports in the c louds, and an othe r possesses a mind,
that grope s in the deepest recesses of philosophy, and lea rn s to conceive the
mos t abstruse truth. \Ve wond er for a while, and presently conclude, that
all the peculiarities of each mind are coeval with its existence, and impressed
by the D e ity.
'
For my o wn part, although I consider these speculations to be as unim:
porlant, a s they are doubtful, they freqnently find an indulge nce in my mind.
N o r a re they altogether fruitless . They answer the purpose of a romance.
Th ey amnsc the imagi1rn1.ion and or.cupy the vacant thought of a leisure
hour. I am inclined to the l.•elicf, that, as our minds may be considered to
emanate from the same cr ea tive spirit, they bear a nea re r rese mblance to.
each other, than we arc apt to imagine. It is probable that onr minds are
all C<jually endowed, and, at firHt., are prcci eP ly t.hc same. Thal they nre
snsccptilile of like i111prces ions. And if a case be s upposed , where two per•
son s co uld ~c brought up in such a manner, that e"ery ~xternal circum• ,
stance , having the leas t e ffect on the senses, co uld be prec isely th e ~ame to
each, that the ir dispos ition• would be in all res pects s imil a r; indeed, the
men would be perfectly alike. This hypoth es is is reconcilabl e with the·
maxim (unde r existing circumstances) that no two perso ns we re e\·er io'
eve ry res pect alike. For, in tire ea rli es t state of tir e mind, it is so susceptible of impress ions, that the slightest c ircums tances vary its direction an4.
character. Frivolous causes produce the mos t important and la sting elfest1.
\Vhence , we may readily account fur the numberless s had es of c haracter, '
as resulting, not from an origiual difference in rniu<ls, but from tire secret
ope ratiun of physical canacH.
. It iH c11rionH to observe the relation betwee n the sc1rnes of see in g :11rcl lrcnr.
1ng, and the miud, and how scu Hibly the impc rtCctious uf the for111cr tend to
sharpen the faculties of the lal.ler . So uniform ha s this rule he ld within
th e c ircle of m y own acquaintance , that I am apt to co nceive one's intel~
lectual powers mere ly from a kuowlcclgc of hi s faculti es of s ight. One who
is ncar-sightc<l, for ex ample, us ually possesses mental powers that are cle8.r
and ne rvou s. In him, on tire contrary, whose vision is bounded only by the

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horizon, we sl1011ld loo k for a mind ca pa hie of pl eas ing in the arts of poetry
and ficti o n ; for he c111braccs at a gl;incc all tire bea uties of nature . A
retentive 11u:111ury jg nlso naturally a ssoc iated with one, who hears an<l sees
with dilliculty . Thu s, by a little re fin ement, (I think reasonably,) we may
refer the different fa culties of the 111i11d to the conslrnction of the se nses .
The <linCrcnt hearings of these c:at1$CS arc obvious. They prove the impor. tance ofac'l11iri11g a habit of close thinking. Il e who hea rs and sees with
, difliculty, treas 111·cs up what he learns wit Ir care. A partial bli11dness invites
contemplation . A man is no t liable lo have hi s attention di . tracic<l by
frivolou s e rents. They a re in some measure shut out. He finds a study
everywhere.

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•• 11

THEME.

·Thc hackneyed rules of Criticism hrt1Je crnshctl a hundred Poets, but
will ncller crca.tc, or assist in crcfl.ling, a single one." - LoNDON
QuAnTEtlLY.

Man cannot fly in th e air ; therefore he is an animal incapable of motion .
.-Propos ilion s , quile as absurd as this, are allow ed to pass current i11 the
world, coming, as they frequ ent ly do, fr om the pen s of write rs of good r ~ pute.
\Vhen me n condemn log ic as uselc:5s., because syllog is ms ne ver taught a man
' to reason, are no t they chargeable with as gross a follacy, ns we have above
laid do wn. \Ve mi g ht as we ll ex pect the rul rs of grnm mar to mak e an
orator, as the mice of criticism to create a poet. Such w as never their
design. They w e re intended to direct the e ffort s of genius, and to correct
errors in ta s te . Law s do not make good c itizen s , - but good c itize ns conform to th e laws .
The rules of criti c is m a rc dcdu cecl from observation. By analyzing and
comparin g whale\'e r is most be autiful in the works of genius, we di sco rer
characteri s ti cs that generally accompa ny wha t is most pleas ing to us .
Whence w e fairly conclude, tha t such things are na turally grntifying to the
taste, and that an acquaintance with them will be the best assistant in our
attempts at beau tiful co mpos iti o n.
· There can be nothing in these rnlcA themselves, it would seem, whose
tendency is to re press or d isco urage the e fforts of genius. Y outlrr11l poet s ,
~ it is trorc , mee t with many things a t tire outset of th e ir ca reer, ca lculated to
depress their lofty hupes uf snccess ; but many of the m arc shadows, many
the off~pri11g- of their ow11 fan cy , and 111a11y lra11 Ai<·11l from th e ir very 111111irc.
On the fir sl. appea rance or a nl!IV po c111, hy an author whu Ira• not yet e,1.ablished hi s rcputat ion, one would think envy to be the prevailing fault o f the
whole litera ry w orld. H ow e lse can we accou nt. for the c ir cu1115tan ce , that
' ~o one unde rta k es to point out the bea uti es o f the piec e , its rea l merits, and
to call attention to pa ssages where genius is peculiarly di splayed ? \.Ylry,
but from thi s otlions feeliug, <lo all labor lo find impe rfecti ons, s li ght viola• tions of good taste, unfortunat e express ions , &c. 1 But we a re unwillin g to
' ~llow snch powe r to the dark pa ss ion of envy. And in the weakness of
Yanity, we may find suffi c ie nt cause for these pe tty cavillings ; for it is
gratifying to u ur dea r selves, to discove r the failings of ge nius. But all
lhese things arc ex tre mely cliscouragi11g to the nulhor, who iA expecting, in
• 1 tlto npprolJ;ition of the world, the i1111necliate folfilu1(•nt uf all hi s wislrc·s .
It ib a rule of critit:ism, lhat, in an he roic puc 111 , the pne l should intro·
b;,., duce no re flection s of his own, whi ch do not contrilmle to the prog ress of
.
the narrative. Yet, in so111c of our hest poems, thi s rule has been tran s • gressed by such beautiful di g ress io ns , that we cannot reg ret tire departure
from the rule. In ~ 11 c h casP.s, a nr,w poet would no t be spared. Narrow: minded c ritics would lash him so un111c rcifully, for tire liberty he ha s tak e n
in speaking hi s th oug hts gratuitously, though they abound in bea uty, that he

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is compelled to give up all idea of further efforts. But here it is necee!ftry
to make the important distinction, that it is not the " hackneyed rules OC
criticism," by which the poet is crushed, hut the ill-judged stricture• uC
those who too rigidly apply them.

MODEL II.

Public ..llmuscmcnts, Splendid Jlcligions Ceremonies, Warlike Prepamtwns and Display, and a Higid Police, as means of Despotic
Puwer.

MODEL I. OF A CONFERENCE.

PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS.

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The sla.b-ility of the United Stales Gntcrnrncnt as oj]cclc<l by a Nati011al
Literature, Common Dangers, Facility uf Jl:l utual Intercourse, an4
a General Diffusion of Knowledge.
A NATIONAL LITERATURE.*

Some may be disposed to ridi cu le the idea of national literature haTing
any great wci.,ht towards supporting our government; but of suc h wo m~y
say that they ~a nn ot f'ully have appreciated the effect which literature has
upon the peop le.
,
.
Did not the ·songs of Tyrt:r:us exc1te the G reeks of old to the contest I
Did not the battle-hymns of Korner exc:itc the Germans to resislanl'e I
Has not the literature of the em in ent French writers of the last centul"f
done much towards the diffusion of liueral Jrinciples in Europe; prind. •
pies on which our own government :ests; an · do not we ourselves see the .
influence which the literature of F ranee has upon the nations of the old
world, when her langunge is U1e lan guage of the c.ourt.? From these facts
we may judge what effects literature would have rn this country. I appeal
to you all whether there have not been times when your love of country
has been powerfully roused by the poet, orator, or historian. Have you not
been at those times more firmly determined to join heart and hand in sur,·
port of your country, and that if any enemy to her government shou d
arise that you would crush him? If the poet, or orator, has such a mighty
effect upon us, say not that litenture cnn do littl e in aid of our govern·
ment. It may be answered, that our best writers will not always be engacred on American subjects, and, therefore, our patriotism will not be eo
m1~ch excited as I have stated; and to this J will, in part, agree, still there
will be an American feeling pervading their whole works, a free and indc·
pendent manner, which, disdaining all restraints , except those which the'
general rights of manki~d and l_aws of' .the people enforce.
.
But it is not for the l11 gher flights of literature that we would part1cular
ly at this time contend. It is not a "Paradise Lost" which is seen nnd
read by the grent body of the pcole; the literati may enjoy the bcantica
of this, but it passes for almost nothing with the great~!f number. '!he
truth is, the great mass of the people have different notions and feel111g1
from these comp<trat1 vely chosen few. We must, therefore, have our
literature come directly home to the hearts of the people, and history ' ·
tells us that they have hearts that will respo nd to the patriotic fire of the '
poet and will act accordingly. If such is the case with literature, it is the
duty' of every citize n to use his utmost endeavours to keep ours pure. •
Let not sectional prejudice, or f·arty fee lin gs,.pervade our literary arena; -. •
Jet it be holy ground; let our rterary men, 1f they contend, contend as
brethren of the same great family; let our republic be truly a republic of ·· ·"
Jett.cm where mi11<I iR t.hr. crit..,rion of i"'w"r; anil, whilRt thiA is tho cneo,
1
our nation will he a LlcRHe<I nation, wlros" ( :od is the l ,ord.
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Various ns arc the mP,.ans by which nn individual may acquire despotic
power ov_cr a

~1at10n

; none are 1nore easy in their application, or more

effectu ?l 111 their results, than the mere act of providing and supporti ng,
what1 111 such cases, are most e rroneou sly called public amusements.
Public amusements ! yes, - le t but your tyrant, who would lord it with
' impunity, open his theatres, provide his shows, and procure every thing
lhat can please the fancy, and delight the eyes and ears of the people, then
he may rest 111 sec urity , for those whom he would make slaves are placed
upon the broad road that leadeth backward to darkness but never onwards
to light. They may pause at first, hut the f'atnl c lm;.m soo n overcomes
!heir str?ngt.h, and, blind to all evil consequences, th ey plunge madly on
ID pursuit of present pleasure.
• ' I.tis ea~y to show how the people are so r~adily and so fatally deceived,
-1t requn?s few exnmpl.es and littl e reason mg to prove that temptations
are strong, rndulgence rurnous, the truth is written within, legibly upon our·
hearts.
· ;; I cannot, however, pass over this subject without calling your attention
. lo one of the most instructive, the most sp lendid, and at the same time .
i · most appallir!g portions .or history, the. latte_r days of the Roman Empire'.
, We have before us a nation that has raised Its.elf from obscurity to gran, ' deur, - that has exchanged the name of ex il es and vagabonds for the
• ' proud title of .conquerors and sovere igns of the world; yet, in this very
people, 1n therr proudest day 1 we can trace the seeds of corruption.
They h ad early acquired a taste for public amusements, that had ever
' been ga111111g strength, and that was soon to be employed as the certain
means of working their destruction.
. The Roman frame retained as yet too much of its former strength and .
Tigar to be r?u ghl y h~rHlled. An attempt to force chnins upon it would
have called forth a thml Brutus full of tire fire and patriotism of Iris an·, . cesto.rs. They who aimed at the imperial purple, knew this, and, avoiding
all v10lenc~" soui:;ht to .accomplish their designs by craft and subtlety.
R~nrnn cit izens, In their amusements, had alre ady reached the limits
which cannot be passed with impunity; the only work that remained fo; .
" tyranny was to lc:.111 thci:n beyond. these lim!ts , anti to fMtcr their grow ing
careless~r;-ss and 111attcn1on to their dearest rnterests . This step was soon
·l-. taken. l healres were opened 111 all quarters of the c ity loaded with
, every embellishment that the imagin ation could suggest, or tl; at unbounded
' wealth cou ld procure. Vl'e need not e nter into a detail of these amuse !1'ents; it sufliceth our purpos.e to point ?ut how readily the people fell
Into the snare~ anti how.speedily and entire was the ruin that followed.
As had be.en rightly conjectured, the people soon gathered in crowds to
.these exhibitions, - they passed almost their whole lives within the walls
' O~ the circus, utterly regardless of all that was transacted in the world ·
111thout.
; '!'hos;. who h:ul nrn<lo thiR dca~lly pr.,paration, who h.a~l tcinptcd n nntlo.n to 1t" rn1n! no w ha$f.cncd !.~> improve lhu opporlninlics thoy hnd ncqu1rcd. .Not Ill sec.rccy and .fear, b.ut openly, and with full confidence,
lhoy pr?ceedetl to fasten their churns upon a slumbering people. And
history 111forms us how complete was their success - "Rome, H.ome imperial , bows hN to the shock," - the work of her slave ry was finished 1 _
the entrance of the Goth into her gates was a mere change of masters for
ahe long before had fallen anil was conquered.
'
, The case we have just cited is a remarkable one, - few events in his28

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tory .can compare. with it, - yet, for all that, it is not to be rejected u Ill
unfair and too !11ghly colored illustration of the truth of our position.
There is ~othing in it unnatura!, there is nothing improbable, and shouW
the like circumstances at any tune occur, I had almost said a child mi&b&
pre1lict the rnin that. would ensue.
"
\Vhen it can he Ahown how h11si11css and pleas11rc, attention n11d romt ...
ncss, ca11 gn ha111l i11 ha111l together; in short, when we Hli:1ll sco n nnllOI
utti.\ rly 1lcvote1l to a11111semcnl.s, a11d, at the same time, awake to nil it1 II•
terc s l.s, then we may be ready to give our example and positions to lbt
wind.
.

MODEL OF A COLLOQUY.*

Difference of .Manners in Ancient Roine and J.fodern Civilized
To a careful and attentive observer of human nature, the history of mnnkirnl presents 1111 interesting and instructive but mournful picture . It teaches him that man is everywhere the same ; but howe\•e r the picture may be
varied by circumstances, however di1Te1·ent the light in which it is viewed,
the leading features remain ever the same. 111 no portion of ancient history
arc we more s truck with this important fact thau in that of Rome. In coR- ··
~idering Lhe ma1111c rs of that people , grrat care ~hould be taken that we dO' 1 ~:•.
not pt'.r11_iit the cla~sical a~sociatio11s of our boyhood to gi"e us a too favora• /.
hie op1111on of their character; nnd again, that we do not nm into the opposite, bul less probable error of depreciating their real worth . Cold, indeed,
must be the heart, and du\l the understanding, that can contemplate unmoved the history of the Eternal City, which, after all, ha s done its part
towards communicating to the worltl civilization and philosophy. It requires no extraordinary stre\ch of the imagination · to marshal before us ia ·
patriotic array those venerable magistrates, who, tranquilly seated in their
curule chairs, defied the fury of Brennus and his barbarian hordes ; or to
hear Cicero declaiming with honest indignation against the ,·ices and inll()o
lence of Anthony and Verrcs. Yet, ou~· admiratiop must gradually subside, ,
when we reflect, that th e glory with wluch they were surrounded, was pur•
ch:lRe•I hy the misery and 1legradatio11 of mi\lim1R. Did we see the llomRnt
in the ir l.rne colors, we slwul1I perceive that th~y were in reality n •Clfi•h,
perfidious, cruel, and superstitious· race of barbarians, endued with the scan•
ty and doubtfol virtues of savage life, but deformed by more than its ordi·
nary excessc~, and whoi-:e original purity of manners arnl good faith among
themselves did 11ut endure a mnn1e11t longer tha11 it enabled them to Rt1IHIU1
the rest of mankind. Of the many mistakes which our classical fundntll
for the Romans have led u;; into respecling them, there is not a greater OI'
more unfounded one than the high opinion we are apt to entertain of their
domestic habits. The Queen of Cities, throned upon her seven hi\ls, ia
marble majesty, the mistress of a world conquered by the va lor of her sons,
if: a picture of our imagination, which we are unwilling to ~poil by filling up
all i1s parlf-l wi_th loo curious accuracy.
Certain it is tlmt informatio•
enough is to he obtained from Roman aulhors to prepare us for a scene oC
11111ch more moderate splendor in the capital of Ita ly. From them we mAy
learn that a\l the points upon which the imagination reposes with rn mucb
comp la cency and delight, arc perfec1ly consistent with misery, disorder, end
filth. We may learn, 1hat 1lwn!(h their Ve1111s nevi,.· al.tractcd pnlilic notlct
in a hooped pclticoat , and though Lheir Apollo 11cver daHhcd in n ~1111
swallow-ta.iled coat wilh brass buttons, yet, that the costume of the dny1
whatever 1t might be, was pretty generally bestowed upon their deitiet.
\'Ve may learn, that the Romans, with a\l their wealth anti power, and ingenious luxury, enjoyed but little real cleanliness and comfort. !\fore oC

*

One part only of this Colloquy is presented.

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

327

.hat most desirable and excellent article, comfort, may be had by any one
llUO~g us, tl."111 cuuld _ha\'C been enjoyed hy a Roman noble, who rode in
~': ca1:nages without spr~ngs, ?'' un sa ddles without stirrups, or dined without
· kn~vcs and fork", or. h~·e d 111 rooms wilhout chimneys. And, having dnly
.e .weighed these a 11d s111~1 l ar p~i111s of minute history, we may hri11g oun::dvett
~. lo ~dopl more sobcl' views ul the magnificence of ancient llome, a11d of an

~ tnGICllt ll11111a~1 .

In Bpil.c _of their admiratiu11 for Grecian nmn11cr•, lhe
, ~!1""'." were 111-ca)cula~~'d !or every elegant pursuit . After abandoni11g the
:. rig1<l virtues by '.vh1ch C1ncmnatus reached the Hummit of glory, I hey gave
s way to a C~Jl·ruptwn. of manners, and an insatiable rapacity, which would
have rema1~e'.I a solitary e:oample of human depravity, had not revolutionary
~ France ,exh1b1ted scenes still more horrid and revolting. The tyranny of the
· Ro~ans, and of the French, under Bonaparte, is stamped with the same
horrid featmes, the same unbounded and unprincipled lust of dominion ren.' dered both the disturbers of human repose. By the pride and avidity of
the descendants of Romulus, Greece was stripped of her pictures anti statues; ~y the rapacity and avidity of the Dire~'tori~I Government, and that
~acobm genen~l,_ Italy was. rolibed of these 1tlent1cal statues, and of paint. Jngs more exq111s1tel)'. beautiful even _than those of Z euxis or Apelles. If
!" plu111~er the vanquished of "''e~y th.mg that can contribute to the comfort,
l!'i~ J~strucll~m, or the ornament of 8'.oc1ety be an object of merilecl censure,
, liOth nations arc c1111a\ly culpahlc, both equally tyrants and robbers . The
. .. ravager, the cxlcn11111atur, VcrrcR, was not worse than many others of the
\ Roman Proconsuls . \Vho can read the Venine orations and 11ot curse from
• hi.s .l!eai·t this c.ruel and ra1!acioue people 1 The money of the unhappy
_ 81c1l!ans ,fo11nd1ts way _to h1; ,coffers, anil. th?ir grain, whilst they were
1tarv111g, mto l11s grananes. 1 he axes of l11s hctors were bl1111teJ on their
necks, Rml the farnr of being put to death at a si1wle ·blow was sold at a
.·e. heavy price . Turn we from the cruelty, injustice, and ra.pacity of V erres 1
. As we turn ~ur eyes from the extonions of the Sicilian Pnetur, they may
perchance light. upon the newspapers of th e day, and the y will there find
1eencs equally 111h1111uus and ilq>lorable. The deeds of Vcne" stand not
1l~ne in the hi.~tory of th.e wor.ld.
\Vlmt think we of thos~ slaughtered at
,.V1cks~mrg 1. . It was 111 va111 .that the u11happy men cried out, \Ve are
.C An~cru:an c11_1·t.en• ; t.111' hloodtl1!rsty 111ob, tlcaf to all they cou ld urge in
their own dclcnce, ordered the 111fo111ous punishment to be inHicted. 'J'hns
·" were innocent American citizens puulicly murtlerecl, while the onlv words
·· " tl1ey uttered amidst their cruel suflerino-s were "We are Americ;.n citi~- sens." " . <? Liherty ! 0 ~ound ?'~ce tlelightfui toe.v ery American ear! O
;.:r'(~l aacrcc~, privilege ot American c1t1ze11shi1~ !
Once .~mcreJ, nuw trampled
,. ~po~ . . Tell me not that the storms winch now ag itate the surface of our
• ln•t1tutwn.s are. preferable to the. calm unrnflled sea of despotism in Russia
. ,· ind Austna; g1Ye me the despot1 s 111 ?fa Nicolas. anrl a Metternich, nay,
;.J eVf!.D the tyranny of a Nero, or a Cahgnla, any thmg but the despotism and
. tyranny uf an infuriated moh.
'fh~ ta ste for g lad iatorial u111nlcr, fH'C\'alcnt in Rome for centuries, aud
often mdulg(~cl lo Lhc most cxtra\';1gant excess, implies so wi<lc a de v iation
from the cu1n~non feclingg an_<l principles o~ huma11i1y, that it is to Le re' , garded as an nnportant fact, 111 the moral h1slorv of man. Moralists will
: lell us that the t1;1'.ly bra,·e are never crne l, but to ihis the Roman AmpiLhea;?' Ires say, No . I here
the conq11crors of 1h.e world cooll.v to enjoy the
.:r,. torturo mu! the death ol n1cn who had lll'Vcr ollended them. Twice i11 one
. day came . the matrons and senators of Home to the butchery; and when
'¢i Jllitted with bloodshed the Roman ladies sat down in the wet ,irena •tream:'l'. 1cg with the blood of their victims, to a luxurious supper. But enough of
! ' . these humiliating details.
'fhe moral to be derived from Roman history, if properly applied, is most
excellent, and cannot be too often, nor too strongly inculcate d . It is that

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the loss of civil liberty inl'olves a destruction of every feeling which di1tiD•f
guishes man from the inferior part of the creation, leavino- his faculties lo ·
vegetate in indolence or to become brutalizeil by se11sua'lity; that publiCI
opinion, when suffered . to waste its energies in wild applause of faciion or,
tyranny, may bi:come one of the lllOol subservient instrnments of oppression,
and even bow. Its neck to the ground ere the foul of the tyrant he prepared
to tread u1ion 1t.
ESSAY, TREATISE, TRACT, THESIS.

~n

•

Essay, literally 111ean.s nothi_ng more _than a trial, or an attempt.:
It 1s sornetunes used Lo designate m a specific manner an author's al•
tempt to illustrate any point. It is commonly applied to small de. ;
tached pieces, which contain only the general thoughts of a writer on'
any given subject, and afford room for amplification into detail1.
Some authors modestly used the term for their connected and finished ·
endeavours to elucidate a doctrine.*
A Treatise t is more systematic than an Essay. It treats on the subject in a methodical form, and conveys the idea of something labored 1
scientific, nnd instructive.
A Tract t is only a species of small treatise, drawn up upon particular occasions, and published in a separate form.
_
A Thesis is a position or proposition which a person advances, and
offers Lo maintain, or which is actually 'maintained by arrrument.
"
Essays are either moral, political, philosophical, or literary; they,.
are the crude attempts of the youth to digest his own thoughts, or
they are the more mature attempts of the man to communicate his
thoughts to others. Of the former description are prize Essays in
schools, and of the latter are the Essays innumerable which have
been published on every subject since ll1e days of Bacon.
•
Treatises are mostly written on ethical, political, or speculative sub. ·
jects, such as Fenelon's, Milton's, or Locke 's" Treatise on Education,"
De Lolme's "Treatise on the Constitution of England."
'l:racts are. ephemeral pro?uctions, mostly on political and religious
subjects, wluch seldom survive the occas10n which gave them birth.
Of this description are the pamphlets which daily issue from the
press for or against the measures of governrnent, or the public meas·
ures of any particular party.
The Essay is the most popular mode of writing; it suits the writer
wl~o has not talen.t or inclination to pursue his inquiries farther, and It ·
suits U1~ generaht~ of ~ead~rs, who are amused with variety and BU•
perficmhty. The 'lreat1se 1s adapted for the student, who will not'
be contented with the superficial Essay, when more ample materiala ·
are within his reach.
!he .Tr~ct is formed for the political or religious partisan, and re- . !
ce1ves its mterest from the occurrence of the motive. The Disserta• ·
tion interests the disputant. (See Dissertation, page 334)
'·

" See Locke's" Essay on the Understanding," and Beattie's "Essay on'· ·
Truth.''
·
t Treatise and Tract have both the same derivation, from the Latin·
tralw, to draw, manage, or handle, and its participle, trndus.

329

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pleasure derived from the Fine .!lrls, by lhe .!lrtist and common
Spectator.
'. The pleasure derived from the fine arts is doubtless proportioned to our
of appreciating them; for they address themselves chiefly to the
im•gination and the sensibility. The mere pleasures of sense every man
may feel; but those derived from intellect and se11time11t are more limited,
and of a higher order. Hence it is, that the artist feasts on his •elf-created
·treasures, and lives on fancy's imagery, whilst the hieroglyphical daub of a
, . 1ign-pain'.er would be more attractive to the common spectator, than the hues
J of Titian, or the hold master-strokes of a Michael Angelo. Taste is a sentiment of the soul. It is a keen perception of the sublime and beautiful in
art and nature. United with genius, it even crnate• to itself images surpne9i11g lrnn""' excellence; ohjcct• which exist, perhaps, hut in the painter's
.and poet'~ vision. Guido CO\'cted the wings ur an a11gel, that he 111ight behold
· lhe beatified spirits of paradise, and thereby form an archangel such as bis
imagination was obi iged to substitute. How sublime must have been the
vision which ga\'e the ohject bis imagination sought for ! How intense the
ke'ing which thns trausported him from earth to heaven !
·.To express the passions by outward signs is the artist's aim ; and we
may add, his envied privilege. What delight to see the cold and gloomy
canvass expand with lite; the dull void banished by the melting eye, the
. . graceful form, the persuasive suppliant, the conquering hero ! Every touch
• adds something to the soul's expression, till the enraptured painter yields
· himself up to the delightful contemplation of his new creation. "I, too, am
l' a painter," exclaimed Correggio, with involuntary transport, while contem• ,· plating a work of the divine ltaphael; " [,too, am a pai11ler." Such was
~ : lhe enraptured feeling which would, otherwise, ha\'e been chilled by the cold
pressure of his wants and poverty.
, • To common observers, the most beautiful painting may seem but an assem~~ blage of, forms, and the most exquisite poem but doggerel rhyme. The high,. er efforts of arl produce I.Jut little effect on uncultivated minds. It is (as
Sir Joshua Reynolds observes) only the lowest style of arts, whether of
painting, poetry, or music, that may be said, in the vulgar sense, to be nat: ' Urally pleasing. Taste, and a just discrimi11ation, are the results of educa7 tion. The concertos of Steibell and Clementi would be jargon to the ear
~· , accustomed only to the monotonous to11es of "Hob or Nob," anrl " Yankee
'· Doodle," nor would the admirer of" Punchinello," or "Jack the Giant
· Killer," be enraplured with the grace and dignity of au Apollo Belvidere,
~ or a Venus de Medicis.
That a susceptibility and love of the sublime and beautiful are a source
of happiness, who can doubt, that has seen the" Anrora" of Guido1 How
·' rich, how sublime the fancy, which ~ould prorluce so enchanting an assem.. blage of all that is graceful and Jo,cly ! and how animated, how enrnptured,
the feelings of him whom a refined taste renders capable of appreciating
lhem ! Dupaty's soul melted at the view of Raphael'" "lncendia del
Jlorgo." He saw not, in that moment of enraptured feeling, a pictured
flame, hut the devouring clement n1gi11g, enveloping, anrl consuming the
hclples" awl dcepairing multitude. To loolt on such a produclion with. total
indifference is impossible. · Apclles's critic was a compelcnt judge of the
representation of a sandal, and Moliere's old woman could decide upon the
nature of comic humor; but it is the artist and connoisseur alone, who can
judge, appreciate, a11d feel the highest order of color, modification, and express;on.
The portrait painter also claims our attention and gratitude. He who
capa~ily

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ENGLISH COJ\lPOSITION.

gives to our weeping eyes the form of the beloved and departed friend l
whose magic tonch arrests beauty in its progress to decay, and \i•hose pencil
immortali1.es the revered forms of the hero and 1hc statesman; the IOU!hrealhing expression of a Washington, a Franklin, and an Ames.
Painting may, perhaps, be said to be the acme of the arts, since it charma
by so many various branches, and admits of such infinite variety of color
and expression; but let not the " verba ardentia " of the poet be robbed o(
their honors. The lyre of a Milton, a Cowper, a Bryant, and a WorcJ..
worth can never breathe other than harmonious sounds. Their words melc "
into ideas as the objects of nature gather light and co lor from the sun,
1
Shall we not allow the poet, then, his joys and honors 1 Shall the em••
nations of his firncr shine on hearts cold and dead to its rays 1 No I·
Through the tear of sensibi lity we see his power; we feel it in the tender
accents of the voice that tremliles while it reads.
Since the pleasures derived from the fine arts are so exquisite, both to the
artist and spectator, it cannot be douhted that our sources of happineaa
might be greatly exte11ded by their liberal cultivation. That arts and morale
are materially connected, there is no doubt; Horace observes:
"Ingenua~

dillicis:se fideliter artes,
Emollit mores, nee sinit esse feros.''

And could this spirit, this admiration of the beautiful, be generously cul!i•
vated, the genius of our soil might proudly asce,nd the summit of Parnassu1.
Pulilic favor is the most powerful stimulus to tale11t; exhibitions, therefore,
of the best productions, both in painting and sculpture, will have a tenden.:7
to diffuse a general taste, and to inspire a spirit of emulation, from which
the most beneficial results may be anticip3.ted. Let us not suffer the arti!ta
who now grace our shores to forsake us for the want of that patronage
which it should be our pride and pleasure to liestow. We cannot, indeed,
expect to riva l the treasures of the Louvre or the Vatican, but from the ex; ,
ercise of native talent, and from the specimens of art we already posscu,
much may be expected. In the cabinets of private individuals in our city
may be found productions sullicient to form a choice collection for publio
exhiliition, and it is to the lilierality and patronage of their possessors that
we look for such encouragement as sha ll stimu late the young artist to im."
mortalize his name, a11d shed a lustre on his cou1ltry.
MODEL II.

The Sentiment of Loyalty.
Loyalty, in its primitive signification, implies fidelity to a king. Hence,
a loyal subject is one who promotes as far as possible th e welfare of the ".
kingdom, who assists in the maintenance of the laws, and in times of dan•
ger is ever ready to defend the life and honor of his sovereign, and to sac·
rifice himself for the good of his country.
This sentiment is natural to the human race. If we analyze our variout
feelings and emotions, we shall find that the sentiment of love is one or
the most powerful passions which nature has implanted in the breast
man; it is the most powerful, because, when excited and kindled, it burnt •
with an ardor almost unquenchable, it warms and spurs the whole man
onwanl towardA the accomplishment of its object; impetuous and irro1i1ti•
lilr., it ovcrcomr.R nil ohstacleR which riHr. hcforc it.
The sentiment of Loyalty i• 011n of' the 111a11iliJs l.atiuns of I.his love I
springing from that nolile source it flows onward till it meets the waterl
of other streams which it deepens and purifies.
Since nature has given to man this sentiment of loyalty, it will alwaya
·find suitable objects on which to bestow itself. Man was made for love I
he must have something to honor, respect, and admire ; something usually
higher and nobler than himself; consequently 1 in despotic countries, hon·

331

or and love are paid by a loyal people to their sovereign, who, being of a
higher station, of a more venerated name, or of nobler descent than themeelves, is e ntitled to this respect.
, ~ In our own country, we venerate the wisdom and prudence of our an·
cestors, who, in framing the articles of our constitution, provided for the
good of succeeding generations; and at the present day, when we sec a
citizen devoting himself lo the Re rvi ce of his country with that patriotic
.spirit which characterized our fathers, our affections are aroused, our lips
send forth his praise, we hail him the defender of the Constitution, and
• the whole nation rises up to do him homage.
In England recently, that loyalty, which for two preceding reigns had
been slumbering, burst forth with redoubled vigor upon the accession of a
female sovereign to the throne.
· A't the beainning of a new reign, the loyalty of a nation is always openly
and warmly" exhibited. But on that occasion, there was something in the
fact, that their future sovereign was a youthful and accomplished queen,
which excited in an unusual degree the hopes and sympathies of the nation. They hailed her accession as emblematica l of peace and prosperity.
In the feudal times, in the times of chivalry and the Crusade~, the
· knights were distinguished for their loyalty to the ladies of the court. In
those days the fame and beauty of the lady inspired her champion with
courage and strength, and many a battle has been fought and many a vie·
' - tory won und e r this spirit-stirring influence of loyalty.
t'.
'fhose were lirilliant days for Europe when chivalry stood forth in its
• · might and first gave birth to loyalty,-loyalty, which taught devotion and
reverence to those weak, fair beings, who but in beauty and gentleness
have no defence. "It raised love above the passions of the brute, and by
dignifying woman, made woman worthy of love . It gave purity to enthusiasm, crushed harbarous se lfishness, taught the heart to expand like a
Rower to the sunshine, beautified glory with generosity, and smoothed even
· the rugged brow of war." But how have we degenerated 7 "The age of
chivalry is gone; never, never m?re. shall we .bel~old that g!'lnerous loyalty
to rank and sex, that prourl subm1ss1on, that d1gn1fied obedience, that sub·
<· • ordination of the heart, which kept alive even in servitude itself the spirit
of an exalted freedom! "
But though the sentiment of loyalty has greatly degenerated, it is not
wholl y extinct; it is now occasioi!all)'. expressed, ~ut its flan:ie is fai.nt _and
flickering; should 1t 11ver expire, 1t will go hand m hand with patnot1sm.
and will expire with that faith which gave it life.
To conceive truly what we should then lose, we need only reflect, that
loyalty is th e liond of society and friendship, it unites all the best affections
of tho heart in one common cause, it holds a sacred place not to be invaded with impunity, it is respected and honored by the old, and the storil's
of its valor delight the young, and
" Though well held, to fools doth make
.
Ou r faith mere folly, yet he that cnn endure
To follow with al legiance a fallen lord,
Doth conquer him, that did his master conquer."

or

COLLEGE POEM.
MOD~:I,,

The Pleasures and Pains of the Student.
When envious ti me, with unrelenting hand,
Dissolves the union of some little band,
A liand connected by tho&e hallowed ties,
That from the birth of lettered friendship rise,
Each lingering soul, before the parting sigh
One moment wait•, to view the year~ gone by,

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AIDS TO

Memory still loves to hover o'er the place,
And a ll om· pleasures and our pain s re trace,
'J'hc S tudent is the subj ect of my so ng,
F e \\,. are hi s pleas urc ti, - yet thuse fi!w are s trong .

Not the gay, transient moment of de li ght,
Nor hurried tran ~ p o rts felt b111 in their fli ght.
U11likc all else, the Student's j oys endure,
] nteu se, ex pans ive, e ne rge ti c, pure ;

Whether o'e r class ic pla ins he loves to rol'e ,
'Mid s t Attii= bowers, o r through the mounta in g ro ,·e , -

"Vhether with scientific ere lo trace
'rhe various modes of nunlber, time, and space , "Vhether on wings of heavenly truth to ri se ,
And penetra te the secrets of the skies,
Or downw ards tending , with an humble eye,
Through Nature's laws explore a De ity ,
His are the joys no strange r breast can foci,
N o wit defin e, no utterance reveal,
Nor yet, alas ! unmixed the joys we boast,
Our labors still proportioned la bors cost.
An anxious tear oft fills the student's eye,
And his breast heaves with many a struggling sigh.
His is the task, the long , long task, t' explore
Of eve ry age the l111nbcr :11111 thc lore .
N cetl l dcscriUc hi s s t1 ug glcs and hi s t=ilrifc,

The thousand minor miser ies of hi s life,
H o w Application, ever-firing maid,
Oft mourns an achi11g, oft a dizzy head'!
How the hard toil but slowly ma kes its way,
One word ex plai11e<l the labor of a day
Here forced to explore some lab)·rinth without end,
And th ere a paradox to compre hend 1
Here ten ha rd words fraught with some meani ng small,
And there ten folios fraught with none at a ll.
Or vi ew him meti11g out with points and lines
'J1he lan1l of di agrams a11<l mJs li c s igns ,
\Vhere forms of "pheres given on a plane
H e must transform and bend within hi s bra in.
(Jr as an auLhor , lost in gloom profiamd,
\Vhc n so me bright thought 1lc111ands a period rou11d,
P on dcri11 g- and poli ~ hin g j ah, what U\'ail
The room oft paned, the angui sh-bitten na il 1
For see, produced ' mid ma11y a labori11g grnan,
A sentence much like an in verted cone.
Or should he try his talent at a rhyme,
That wa ste of pati ence and tha t waste of time,
P ercha nce , like me , he fl ound ers out one line ,
llegi11s the next, - there stops - - -.
Enoug h, no mure un\lc il the cloister's g ri e f,

Di sclose those sources whe11ce it find s reli ef.
Say how th e stud e11 t , paus ing from hi s toil,
Forge ts hi e pa in 'mi<l recre atio n's sm ile .

Have yon 11ot seen, - forgive the ig noble theme ,
The winged tenants of some haunted stream
Feed eager , busy, all the wave-lung side,
'I1hcn wanton in the coo l, luxuriant tid e'!

So the wise stud ent ends his husy day,
Unbends his mind, and throws his cares away.

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

333

T o books where sc ience re igns, a nd toil severe,
i"nccccds the a lluring talc , or drama dear ; ·
Ur happy i11 tha t hour hi s taste might choose
The easy waruli11gs of some modern muse.
L et me hut paint him void of ~very ~a re
Fll111ir in fr ee aUilmlc across l11 s c hair,.
Fro1~ page to pa ge his rapi1l eye alo~1g
Glances, a nd reve ls through the magi c song· ;
Alternate swells his breast with hope and fear,
. .
Now bursts the unconsc ious laugh, now falls the p1ty111g tear.
Y cl more ; though lonely j oys the bosom warm,
Participation he ightens every charm,
A111l should the happy student chance ~ o know
Th e warmth of fri e11dship, or some krnder glow,
' "' hat wonder should he nm to share
Some favorite author with some favorite fair .
There , as he c ites these trea sures of the page
That rai se her fa11cy, or her hea rt engage ,
A 1111 li stens while her freqnent, keen remark
Di scern• the brilliant, or illumes the dark,
.
Aud douhtin"' much, sca rce knows which to admire,
The critic's Judgment, 01· the writer's fire.
'Vhilc rcadi11 g oft he ~lane.cs a t that fa ce,

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'\'h ere g<! nlly li<~iuns rntcll1 gc 11cc aru1 grace,

Aud secs eac h pa ss ion in its turn prevai l,
Il er looks the ''cry echo of the talc, ,
Secs the descending tear, the swe lling breast,
\\'he n vi c e exults , or v irtue is di stresse<l ;

Or, when the plot assumes an object new,
And virtue shares her retribution due,
He sees the grateful smile, th' uplifted eye,
Thread , need le, kerchief, dropt in ecstasy ,
Say, ca n one social pleasure eq1~a l thi s'.
Y el st ill even here imperfect 1s the bliss,
For ah! must awkward lea rning yield
T o graceful dulncss the unequal fi eld
Of ga llantry 1 What lady can endure
The shrug schola st ic, or the bow demure 1.
Ca n the poor slndc11t hope that heart lo garn,
That melts before the llutt.cr of a ca ne 1
Or of tw o chara cters , which shall surpass ,
' Vhcre one co nsults his book s, and one his glass 1
Ye fair, if aught their censure may a pply,
''f is yours to effect the surest remedy;
Nor should a fo p the sacred band remove
Between the Aonian a nd the Paphian gro\'e.
'T is yours to s tr e n~lh e n, polish, ~nd secure
Th e lu stre of the mind's n ch garmture;
Thi s is the robe th at lends you heayenly charms,
And envy of its surest st i11 g disarms,
A robe whose grace and ri chness will outvic
The woof of Ormus, or the Tyrian clyc.
To count one plea•ure more , indulge my mnse, 'T io fri end ship 's self, - what cynic will refu se 1
0, I could tell how oft her joys we 've shared,
\Vhen mutual ca res those mutual j oys endeared,
How nrm in arm we '''e lingered through the vale,
Li stening to many a time-beguiling tale.

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334

........_ _ _ _ _ _ _,,.._ _ _ _

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·
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ENGLISH COMPOSITION·

AIDS TO

H ow oft, relax ing from one common toil,
'Ve '"e finrn d re pose amid one co mmon ~ mile.
Yes, I could tell, but 0, the task how vain!
'T would but increase our fo st approaching pain;
'rhe pain so thrilling to a $l11dcnt's he art,
Couchecl in that tali sman of woe, we part.
Th e student's life unfolds this maxim plain,
Each pleasure has its corresponding pain .
DISSERTATION.
A disse rtation is a formal disco urse intended to illustrate a subjech
and the term is prope rly applied to performances of an argumentative
n a ture .
Disse rtatio ns are p1inc ipally employed on disputed points of litera·
ture and science.*
MODEL.

" On the Causes which, indcpcndrnt of their .Merit, have contributed ,
tu elev<ite the ancient Classics."
The ancient classics a re eleva ted to a rank in the literature of the world,
to which their intrin sic excellence caunot justify their claim . Admitting
this position, whi ch their most strenuous supporters will not deny, but Mwilling to incur the imputation which a declaimer against classical learning
must dese rvedly hazard among its admirers, I shall attempt to show some
of the causes tha t have united to produce thi s ele1•atio11.
The standard to which every one primarily refers what he exa mines, i1
the measure of his own power. That work is not ad mired , which he could
equdl or surpass. This sta ndard, ind eeJ , is soon ex tended, and similar
efforts of ge nius of other ages are take n into the comparison. The barbarism in which the world was involved at the rev iva l of learn ing, made the
classics a ppear to its res tore rs in a n unnaturally strong and dazzling light.
Possessing themse lves few of th e advantages of progressive improvement,
and des titute an1l ign oran t of the resources of the a ncient a uthors, they
"iewed their work s as the effo rts of transcen de nt gen ins, which had com pletely pe netrated and t>x hausted the mines of nature, - whi ch none could e\•er
after approach, and only th e most exa lted minds cn111prehe 11d. They applied
themselves to the examination of the trea sures they had cli scovered, and
burst forth into unres trained admiration of· authors fr om whom thev had
learned to think and to speak.
•
All who have s ince jnstly appreciated the labors of these fath ers of mod·
ern literature, have concurred in sentiments of gratitude a nd reverence to
the ir instructors.
For a great pa rt of the tim e since the re viva l of letters, those who aimed
at the reputation of scholars hal'e been obliged to establish their claim by
a knowledge of the cla ss ics. The possessor of this knowledge obtained
respect, aud co ntinued to culti,·a te it from th e prid e of d isplaying learning
which was confined to a few, or from the ambition of exce lling in what con- •
e.Litutccl hi s chi ef or ouly di s ti11clio11. 'J'lii~ wa ~ 11ccetiHa rily t.he cat-ic when
little other than cla.sical learning existed; a nti it lung continuctl, like the
respec t for hered itary succession, from the habit of pa)•ing honor to what
o ur predecessors deemed honorable. \Vhile prej udices were thus strong in
favor of the cla ss ics, few ventured to appear without their support, and 111001
" See Bentley's "Dissertation upon the Epistles of Phalaris," and De
Pau's " Dissertations un the Egyptians and Chinese."

-~-- - -----------

335

that was written tend ed to preserve and strengthen their ascen~le~cy. Regarded as having assisted the first litera ry efforts of the majority of tl!e
learned men of modern times, a nd be ing generally, by the natur_e of their
iubjects, bell.er suited than most other books to t!1e comp_rehens wn of the
young, th e classics ham long bee n prese nted to the 111fant mmd ?f the scholar, when in its mos t susceptible slate. They lull'e thus o~cup1ed the most
powerful prepossessions, a nd been a ll owed to lorm ~n'.I c o nst1~ut~ the standard
of intellect ua l beauty a nd exce ~lence. Tl~ ey have. 111t1mate~y msmuated themselves into the mint! at a penorl when 1111press1ons rece ived are most lastina anti mos t forcibl~. They have bee n connected with the tenderest and
m~st pleas ing associations; will~ the m em o ~·y of the sports ~nd enj_oyments
of childhood, and the more a ffe ct mg recollection s of the atten t10n of mstructors and k inclness of pa rents. Those whom the youth was first ta nght to
t€3pect have been men devoted to these studies, and em ployed to P'? int out
their bea uti es, a nd to direc t the yet nnformed taste to their perception and
just admiration.
.
.
.
.
It was under the guidance of such co mluctors! tha~ the_Y?ung 1mag111::it1on
took its earli est flight s. The first scenes of m1t11•e s1111phc1ty and happ111ess
it oketched were amidst the classical va les of Thessa ly. The first popular
a.sembli es regarded with interest, were those of Athens and Rome. 1:'he
fir~t battles it pictured to itself were fought under the banners of a Grecian
-~r Roman ge neral. \Vhene ver, in after life and other books , pastoral scenery, or popular conm~ ot ion, '?" the tumult of war, prese nted themse lves , they
brought ba ck these 11npress 1 ? n~, were refe rred _to these exemplars_, and the
justice a nd e lega nce of descnpt10n were determined by the comparison. .
To thi s may be adder! the undefined ~ense of _the greatni:ss of an obJ~Ct
at first imperfectly com prehended, which con tmn.es to. ~1 s pl a y beauti es
and higher excellences the more c loselr and_ atle!•tlvely 1t 1s.contemplat~d,
This qnality, common to e1·ery wo.rk of ment? 1~ust b_e pa~t1.•ul a dy_ exhibited in those, which, lik e the c lassics, are sulhc1ently 111tell1g1ble to rnterest
minds not ye t auequate to their co mple te compre h ~ns ~on .
I in sist not on the re,pect that we pay to ant1q111t~; the records of her
wisdom, th ough for ages d ee me~ sacred, ha\' ~ l o~1g srnce bee~ expose d to
the gaze and scrutiny of 1he profan e. H er voi ce 1s no lon.ger li stened .to ~s
epeaking the language of in spiration: The cha rm that rn· ~terl attention 1s
dissolved. J\Ien of moclern t1111es aflect lo reveren ce the di ctates of reason
alone. lint the fact ha s not always been thus ; there were times when the
classics were respected merely because they contained the legacies of ancient da ys .
.
.
lncluct. i1·c phil osophy has, 1!Hlccd_, tau ght other precepts ; but to those _ignorant of these precepts, or 1111pallen t of the long an_d wea ry path wluch
this philosophy po inted out, some of the Gr~ek clas8 1cs _offered to show a

it.

pleasante r and far shorter way to u111versal sci e nce . . Having. one~ ~ mbraced
the theo ri es of the philoso pher s, th e.\' ~1l! S t have rejected with nd1cule ~he
pretension s of other books to compeullon wllh ti! ~ works of such as gen_rn"

has admi11etl to th e sec ret councils of nature. I he works of th e Grecian
philosophers const itute, indee d ? bt!l a small P".rti on of the classics. But
how oft en are we, by our admirati on of a favorite a uthor, prepossessed in
favor of th e whole nati on to which he belongs !
But phil oso phy cann ot boast '"":self; she i_s s il e 1~t and c~n~emplat.ive, an.d
mnst borrow la11rruarrc to com1111111wat.c her 111v cnt1011A . I l11losn pl11ca l set~ cncc forms the ~1~id disti11ctio11 of 111odcr11 t.i111cs . A111hitio11~ 11u~ 11 may use
1cience a• :rn in strument, but will not pursue it as an end. It is tl~e ostentatious ancl impos in g knowl edge or th e h~11 g 1rng e, a nd of t~1e arts wlu c.h orators
and poets have employed to sway the JUrl ~ m e nl by rousrng the pass ion ~, that
will be so ught after hy these m_en; ~nd . tin e knowledfle they \Ylll find 111 the
.classical re Ji cs of the days of ana g111at IOll anU ~ nth us m s m . .
But if these relics contain mo re of the fictwns of a poetical age , of the
0

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336

ENGLISH CO i\lPOSIT!ON.

AIDS TO

a.:.t

playful wanderings of the youth of human society, than of soher reason
thoughtful experience, why do they still delight the wisest of our thinkill(
race~

Our attention, on opening a volume of the class ics, is immediately WOii
by the manly and strik in g manner in whi ch every thing is expressed. ·
Thoughts are pursued with ease as they prese nt thc111$c lvcs iu laugnagc full,
forcible, and di stinc t. "Ve ascribe whullv to intrins ic merit an excellence '
owing, in a degree , to ex te rnal circurn:-:;ta1;ces. In a l:.rnguanc tha t lut9 beet
so many ccnlnr ics written only, the ideas connccte1l with ~ach word ha'8
become lung since de termi nate ly fixed. The alle,ntion is 110l diverted
:·~
the nurn ern us indistinct images with which nery word of a living langtf.lge '
is neces~a rily assoc ia ted; nor is the mind liable to b e mi sled by alluPiona *
to subj ects foreign lo th e one in view. The application of each word appears strikingly app ropriate and peculi a r.
In a li ving la nguage it cannot be thus. 'Vhere philosophy must borrow
the garb of ordina ry life; when she mmt com·erse in the sa me dialect thal
is employed in the us ual tran sac tions of business , and whi c h must pre!enl
n1any im :tges lhat arc low and di sgusting, and morn that arc common,
thoug h s he may pl ease by her familiarity, she cannot but lose the charm of
nove lty , a nti the dignity of e lel'a tion. Many of the th ouahts
that seem a?,.
0
mirablc in the o riginal of th e ancient cla~s i cs , ccaRc to strike in a modern.
tran s lation. "l'hcy l o~c their s imple energy of cxprei;;siu11, the ir innocence
and d eli cncy o f se ntiment, and are debased by assoc iations with the gro81•
nes9 of se nsible, or t he meanness of trivial ohjecl9 . Hen ce it i", that though
we may infu se into a tran s lati on from the class ics a ll the se nse, we cannot
the g race and spirit of the ori g inal.
These are some of the causes to which the anc ient classics owe their ele·
vation. They a re esteemed as ha ving assisted the first elfons of reviving
literature, and contributed to the highest di stin ctio n of mode rn scholan.
They w e re venerated as the bequest of antiquity; t hey arc s t.ill consecrated
by th e ir conne x ion with the pure enjoyments and tend e r affecli uns of ch ild·
hood. They are dignified by a lofty freedom from the impe rfections of a
fluctu a ting language, a nd from the analogies and '1ssocialions that combi ne
obscurity a nd vulga r coarseness in a language which s till continues to be
spoken.

bJ

DISQUISITION.
A Di s qui si ti o n is a formal or systematic inquiry in to any eubjecl
by arguments, or discussion of the facts and c ircum s tances that may
elucid a t e truth.
A disquisition differs from a disse rtation in its form and e xtent. A
dissertation may be m or e diffuse·in its charac te r, and co n se quently ia
generally protracte d l o great.er len g th. A disquisition s h o uld be char·
acte rize d by its unity. Nothing should be i11trodu c!' d bnt what i1
strictly ~ o th e po int; while in a diss_e rtati on any co ll:il.crnl subjecta
may be rntroduc Pd wl11c:h have a beanng upon the point t o be proved
or the s ubj ec t to be e lu c id a ted.
.
Di squ is iti o n s mny be e thica l, political, scientific, or lite rary accord ·
ing t o the nature of the ir subjects.
'
AN ETH I CAL DI SQU I S ITION.

The strict .!Jpplication of .Moral Rules to the Policy <if States.
We all hold lo I.h e s tri ct confinement of i1llli,·idu als by the rules of moral·
ity; nati o ns a re but assemblages of individuals; why, then, should statu
be exempt from these rules 1

337

..Our rules of morality are la id down in the N ew Testament, a s given hy
Jesus Christ; he appears t o h<n·e made no di st inction between man consid·
ered as a Eingle be ing , o r regarded _!:ollectirely, as exi "ting in states. The
spirit, if not th e le lle r, of his sayings, is in fa1'or of the universal application of these principles; and it becomes all, who di•pnle this position, lo
take upo n the mse lves the onus probandi. L et us s pe nd a few moments in
the snrl'ey of the ir objecticrns.
They say , in the first place, that the 111ag11it11dc o f the int e re•l nt stake
juslili cs th <:111 in r esorting lo chica ne ry, the rupture of treati es , 1he opening
of ambassadors' letters, and many o ther honorable ex ploi ts. This intere•t
is the welfare of the community in worldly ma tters. Can it be obtained by
chi cane ry 1 No! iu the language of a most e loque nt write r," per sonal and
national mora li ty , ever one and the same , dictate the sa me mea s ures under
l~~e same c irc um $la nces. "
Moreo ve r, the o pponents say, that expediency reriuires the deception
commonly prac ti sed iu national affa irs, a nd la ug·h a t the iclea of any other
sys tem . "Let those laug h tha t win!" lmt r eme mbe r that de ri sion is no
proof of the validity of one pos ition , or the follacy of a no the r. Long
enough has thi s wo rld grovelled be neath pretended expecliency, as if short·
eighted ma u could be lier fram e regulatio ns fo r the future, than he who holds
eternity wi1hi11 hi s grasp; let us , if no others will, ri se as a nati o n and
,,.shake off the c ha in; (et US stand forw a rd i11 th e pursuit of Olli' best inter•
' ests, for, ti ll the inflneuce of Christianity is com bined with tha t of philoso·
. phy, no syste m of po licy can be pcifec t.
The ll o ly A llia11ce is the only i11sta11cc in whi ch thi s uninn has heen attempted , a nd a lthough the title has been branded as dece ptive, yet it affords
the testimony of the most powe rful princes, that its o bject wa s just. Having thus done aw ay with the principal object.ions of our opponents, we come
now to a co ns ideration of the be nefit• to be de rive d from a •lrict application
of these rules; time will only allow us lo t ouch upon some of the most im, portant, '-' nd point out their i11tl11e nce upo n o m· cond iti on.
The law s of the lanp first cla im om· a llen ti on; not, indeed, as they now
are, l.msed upon the narro w 1•iews of man , but fixed on the broad and sure ·
foundation of mora li ty. The Saviour ha s no whe re freecl 111an from his obligation to auend to th e intere"ts of hi s fellow-man; on th e contrary , hi s espe· ·
cial comma ucl was, " Do unto o ther• as ye wou lcl that me n shou ld do unto
you." If I.hi s precept w<'l'e ohserved in all the la w s , we • hould no longe r
see kings o ppressi ng the ir subjects, or 111e11 of o ne o pini on ri sing to crush
those of an oppos ite , in defiance of every princ iple imp la nted in th e human
breast.
The re is a spirit a broad iu the la nd, which would fain do ri ght, but O\•erdoes in it s eagern ess ; men acttmted by it do not wait to see if their fellowmen full y compreher11l them, or their o bjec t. This is no l the spir it of trne
morality, whi ch makes its path as c lear a s the perfec t day, and leads the
gl>od ma11 10 consider not merely his own benefit, but a lso to re liel'e, as far
as pos.E1 iblc, the si tua tion of the poore r classes; lie would sec ure their earthly ha ppiness by the o uly ~ure means, firm aud "dut;11·y law s. In these limes
it bccun1cs eve ry ma 11 lo consider, that hi~ influe nce i~ some thing ; when
the wngouer a pplied his shoulder to the wheel, the ca rt was dragged from
the miry s loug h. Particularly in thi s country, whe re the poorest has a n
equa l interes t with the most wealthy, is it necessary for nil lo cooperate for
. the suppo rt of r ig ht 1•icws in regard to the po w ~ r of laws ove r the gorcrnecl.
We hal'e thus hrielly ad verted lo the poli cy lo be exerted by the s lat e to·
wards its ow n s ui.Jj ects; there is yet anoth er po int of Yi ew, the counexion
existing between differe nt governments.
In the firs t place, 11alions may be regard"d as havi ng the same feelings
tqwa rds one another with indi l'i duals. The chicanery and frau d, practised
by slates towarcl s each other, has already been adl'erted to; but a fter a con-

29

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sideration of the relation of state and subject., the matter is again forced upo11 :
our attention. Not only are these practices opposed to all morality, but .
they won Id not be tolerated between imli1•idna Is; and the man whose suspi•
cion induced him to open letters, or break the bonds he had voluntarily gil·e11
to another, would be ejected from the lowest society.
In the whole system of international morality, there is perhaps nothing
so unsettled as the rules for the construction of treaties, and yet the way
seems clear. A treaty is neither more nor le8s than a promise bctweeD
two or more

natiorn~,

commonly for mutual benefit.

Mankind in a body have no higher interest than they have as individual1;
each member of society is anxious only for certain natural rights, and Lo

' 1,.,

insure these privilegf's to posterity; tl1e~e, we have shown ; ·can hest be Pf!•
cured by a strict conformity to moral rules. It is no argument against the

."

introduction of this policy Lo say, it would not succeed; on the contrary,
we have every reason to believe perfect success wonld crown the effort;
the old reasons are vain and futile; let something new he tried; not a diplo·
rnatic, lmt a hold darin~, baHcd on th" principlcH of divine jorntico. Whnn
this Hystcm of things is adopted, wars will he abolished; in the hcnntiful
language of the prophet," men will turn their swords into ploughshares und
their spears into pruning-hooks, and learn war no more." These principl~1
properly carried out, would check .the boundless ambition of mankind, nnd

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remove those petty jealousies, which commonly give rise lo the wanton de.
struction of God's creation; the poet could no longer exclf'lim with truth,

"Devil with devil damned firm concord holds; men only disagree of crea·
lures rational."

',.ii

The common origin of war is from the pr etenrled or real infringement of
a treaty. How can this be remedied 1 First, by being careful hefure n
trE"aty is formed. Second, by a firm yet respectful statement of the caoe,
when one has been broken. A man of sound common sense, guided by a
Christian spirit, is far more likely to frame treaties that will endure, than
the wily diplomatist, whose aim is merely to make as much money as he
can for his country, regardless of the injuries he may commit. Such a man
acts for a nation, as he does fur himself; he carries into practice the pre·
cept, " Love thy neighbour as thyself." Many writers have touched upon
war, and much has been said, both for and against it ; those of the present
day are, however, generally opposed ; and the Congress of Nations, which,
but a fow years since, was ridiculed as an emanation from r.he brains of hot·
headed fanatics, is already occupying the attention of the wisest legislators
throughout the world.
'
What a blissful state of things, when all nations shall he at peace ! when
we shall see each pursuing its own interest with benefit to the rest! Thi1
shall be the consequence, and not the cause of the universal spread of
Christianity. The situation of our o"wn country is particularly favorable for
the application of its rules. It may, indeed, be urged, that they would not
yet be appreciated ; let us then hasten the period, and not rest 111 the work
of well-doing, till all trilies and nations shall be brought. to know their God,
and his law. Onward! should then Le the cry of every moral man ; our time
of action here is but short at the most, yet much may be dune, and is there
one, who, with an immortal's happiness within his gra•p, is too indolent to
put forth his hand for it~ No! that man is unworthy the name of re,mb·
lican, whose sole aim is self, who rcganls not his connrry, and hi• fcl ow•
men throngh•Jnt the world.
Let us, then, as a nation, stand forward for the introduction of moral pre·
cepts to direct our relations with foreign countries. The expP.riment is new,

but does not the interest at stake warrant us in the risk, if there can be
danger, in preferring the dictates of conscience anrl our God, to the precepts
of short-sighted man.

ENGLISH COMPOSITION,

339

A DISCUSSION.

A Discussion is the treating of a subject by argument? to clear it
of diffic.ultiPs, and to separate truth from falsehood. It 1s generally
carried on between two or more persons, who take contrary sides,
and defend them by arguments and illustrations. .
.
.
, Discussions are of several kinds, such as plulosoplucal, literary,
political, or moral, according lo the. subjects of whic.h the,Y treat;
or colloquial and deliberative, accordmg to the style Ill winch they
are written or the occasion for which they are prepared.
Discussi~ns serve for amusement, rather than for any solid purJ>'lSC; the cause of truth seldom derives any im!11e?iale benefit from
them, although the minds of men may become mv1goraled by a collision of sentiment.
1'11tr.oso1·11rcAr. Lhscuss10N.

MODEL.

On the Expediency of making .!Juthorship a Profession .
In modern civilized communitie9, a certain opinion or maxim is often
prevalent, which, would we •trip it of th~ sh_roud of co~ceit an? t!•e g_litter
· of cant, would appear unwarrantable prejudice. Of thrs descnpt10n is the
objection so constantly urged against the profession of the author: a man whom
few will call the ir brother, the laughing-stock of the mPrchant's cler·k, ~nd a
laborer poorly paid in the world's coin. '.J'he !>roker seldom meets hrm on
the exchange ; the usurer never chafTers w11h lum on the mart ; the ol<I man
clinks his bags and shrugs his shoulder~ at. his. prospects ; the schoolmaster
takes to trade, and presently rolls by h1111 111 hrs coach, a~d, perhaps, wor•t
of all, the bright eye _is tt~rned away,~~~ the f,~ir hand "'.1thheld by.~me who
can never be the wife of another ! 1111s prejudice winch I desc11be, was
once common throurrhout the old world ; now it is particularly confined to
America.
Still ev';,rvwhere the man whose pen is to be his "'pport is
thought a visionar·y, 01: an idler. The author's garret has long since passed
into a hy-word, and the g.aping elbow has become _the es~u.tcheon of h!s
family. His poverty is a krnd of general butt, and hrs sens1t1veness a farr
snbject of caricature. I am aware, that I shall not s1~eak ~greeably to the
judgment of most who hear me ; let u~, however, e.xamme farrly some ~f the
errors, which .have led people to thonk authorship unprofitable and mexperlient.
.
.
.
There are manv persons, who, havrng neither the vrgor nor refinement of
mind to disting11i'sh between what is material and intellecl"al, would measure poetry hy the yard, or fill a library by the bushel ! To such, whatever
yields the greatest amount of tangible, improvable product is the best producer ; unless mind acts openly, as a machine, they suppose it to be dormant. Let. sutch persons first comprehend the_rurpose of the_ author wl!om
they censure ; let them learn, that there possibly may be higher motrves
of action than gold or silver, - loftier cont7mplations ~han those of the
cou11ti11g-ho11"e or fircl.ory ! And, alt.hough thrs rs a workmg-rlay world nnd
man mnst lahor for hirtc, let I.hem thank Gori, that there arc """'• who find
timce of co111111lmio11 wilh L>ettcr thoughts ; and, lmt for whrn:;c speculations,

and grasps at the infinite, these short·sighterl cavillers would be as lifele•s
as the clods on which they tread ! Coleridge "'Y"• with the enthusiasm of
a gen ins, - " I expect neither profit nor general fame by my writings, and
I consider myself as ha,·ing been amply repaid without either. Poetry has
been to me its own exceeding great reward ; it has soothed my alllictions ;

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ENGLISH COJ\1POSITION.

340

it has multiplied and refined m~· enjoyments ; it has endeared solitude ~nd ·
!t has given me the habit of wishing to discover the good and the bea:.iifiJ. ·
1n all
inee.ts and ~~·~rounds _me." Urge such n ma11, if you can, to con• _
vert l.11s
Christabel 111to an mterest-talile, and limit his peace of mind b7
the rise and fall of stocks !
\Ve of Amurica cn111pl:ii!1'.1hat we have nn rstahlishcd li1.ernl.11rn; nnd
11111.11 mon! :uno11g 1.1:; arn w1ll111g f.o devote tlu ~ 1111-i1'.IVcH lo Ilic~ causu of lilcra•
lurr, we !1111st he c•rn!e11t t? reflect th" literary sple11tlor of E11gland. Some
of the bnghtcst creat1ous, indeed, of modern days, somP- of the fairest crea•
tures of love, and poetry, and rom:rnct~ , belong to America, but they are not
very numero~1s, and, ten to one, our poet or novelist, like the poor author'• '
g~rmen~, wl!1ch was, " .a cap by ni.ght, ~ stocking all the day," pours forth
Ins st1:a.111 afte1: completing the routrne of a pleader at the bar, a bank officer, •
or p_oht.'cal ed1to1· .! Among the respectable and vitally irnponant cares of
professional hfe, h~erature has a poor chance of encouragement ; the phi·
lo~of?her's sp;-cula~ions, or the poet's theory, having nothing to do with tho
bnef or the tl1ss!!<:l111g knife.
. " This is the language," say~ the ohj"ctor, "of romantic folly ; we m1111
l!ve, so let us lahor for the reaches! recompense; intellect will not supporl
l1f~, nor secure comfort." Such nn one, be it observed, mistakes the am•
lu~1on .of tl.'c literary man. \Vitho_ut altogether neglecting, he seeks some• ,
thmg'i 111.fintt.cly better,, than pccu111:~ry ca~c . True, Goldsmith was needy,
a11d Chattert'."' was dnv.cn to d•"p:ur, anti Otway died of et.arvation. Bui
I do not believe~ that. :-uhcr would ~tave foregone one sublime conception,
01: erased _from lus wntrngs one 111ax11n ofsou111I morality, to gain the wealth
ot the pr.'nces who negle?ted. him ! A lying tombstone tells the story of
many a nch patron of their tune, - their memorials are " The Deserted
Village," and" Venice Preserved."
'
I am. not adyocating that sickly, sentimental, "love-in-a-cottage" kind
of doctnne, wl~1ch teaches, that mind is .abov~ ordinary necessities, and that
the wants of hfe are not our common 1nhentance. But I do contend that
the time is coming, and that it should ;;peedily come, in America, wl;en a
el':'ss of men. whose wants are not extravagant, but attainable and refined,
will meet 'Y'th snpport. The ~lUman powers are nnfairly and unprofitably
employed, 1f turn"rl to many different suhject• ; and this trnth shoultl ho
het~<;r k11own i1.' America. The lawyc.r has an end buforc him, which only
n l!fe can at~am ; ~o has the physician, .the clergyman, and the author,
Unite th". duties of either two, and you injure both.
. Assm?11ng, what we need not enlarge upon, the importance of a high nn·
Ilona! literature, let any one observe, who are the supporters of that which
adorns England. "Not those, he will find, who united two or three ocCU•
pations ! Golrlsrnith was a professional man at first, but his patients were
few, and he soon became what he was born to be, an author ! Scott never
figured at tl_ie bar, and Shakspe~re was an indifferent actor. The prolilem
may be easily solved. Some mmds are fitted to i1wcstigate by help of the
dat~ of others, and apply to God's work their concl11sio11s, and others are
designed more excl11s1\•ely to create ; - a distinction rarely suflicicntly observed . The author h'.'". no c'.nnmon work to perform ; he who would in·
s~ruct others, mnst . t~nt1nn.gly 11npro~·e himself; presenting no theories un<l1gesl.ed, and familiar with the )Vilrlcst Hpeculat.ions. In Am<>ricn, and
everywhere ..,fse, wr. w:111t a race of 1.hi11kPrs ; men who will
nloof
fron.> the eddy, whicl~ draws in politi1:ia11 and 111cn:h:111t, and cve11 t 1c pro·
fcss1onal man, a11<l gt\' C 11:"1 tl1P. results of Jong meditation. The mere word1
~re "? part of an autl10~·'s labor ; they but re p~·esellt long mental action.
fhe silence of the stndy 1s to malnre the ohsen·at1n11s of the world.
Profe;;sional men gen1;rally appear to their race only in o11e capacity ;
the author, by enlarged v•.ews of hfe, anr.1 illustrations of moral truth, may
be a great reformer. Vice has long enough run riot; let the author, by

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keel'

passions to his will, make it of service !? his race. Is he a ph!losopher, the wonders of the past, and the mysteries ?f th~ future, are his
province. Is he a poet, the freshness of nature, the fair hohne~s o_f woma~,
and the purity of truth, nrge him to a life of .thoug!1t an~ med1tatwn. His
influence spreads light about him ; his pursuits softe~ his nat~1·e.; _he loves
mo1·e heartily what. is lovely, and i• more ready to pity wh:1t 1s ~rail. The
worltl says trnly, lw is poor ; hut. what is ~hat f.>O\'crty, winch ~1vcs wealth
lo one's cunlcmporarice, and bc11ucaths an 1nhcr1ta11cc to postcnty !

'J'!te Expediency of making Authorship a Profession .
Almost universal experience prm·es the pecuniary reward ?f litera!·y labor
to be hut trifling. In the throng of authors an~ men of genms, we find. only
here and there a solitary instance of well-reqmted endea~ours ; . and if, at
the present day, it is not as formerly quite true, that the idea ~t ~n author
must be l\Ssociatcd with a narrow lane and an obscure garret, 1l 1s not because his reward i• liliernl, or in any <legrec proportionctl tu his mer~ts.
In<li"idual instances may, indeed, be brought up, to prove the success w_l11ch
sometimes attends literary pursuits ; but for every one that could. be cited,
who had basked in the sunshine of prosperity, and enjoyed the smiles of the
great and goo1I among his contemporaries, we could marsh'.11 a. hu~1t!red of
qua! power anti genius, depreRsed by poverty, and treati:d with ~nd1flereu~e
and neglect ; whose only recompense has been 'the tnbute paid to their
memory and writi11gs in after times.
.
If we judge, then, from the remun~rat1on !hat has gener~lly attend~d the
labors of the author, we are justified 111 formmg presages little !latte.ring to
his future success. And, since fortune and genius are seldom found 111 companionship, what must be the consequence of making authorship a p•:ofessiou, of individual• devoting themselves to the cause ~f truth and literature, and relying on the gratitude and favor of the pubhc for suppon 1 It
is useless to say what should be the rew~rd of the au.tho•> and lo sp7ak of the
dignity and importance of the part wl11ch he sustams 111 t!•e puhhc drama,
so Ion" as we witness what is, and what has been the reqmtal of l11s labors.
It is UIJ<lll facts alone, that we must ground our decision. ~nd with ~he.se
before our e}es, must we not fear for the cons:quences. to ht7ratnre, 1f .'ts
existence and progress depend upon the exerllons of d1sappo111ted a.'"' 111requited genius 1 Consider the situation of that man, who, conscious of
his own power, resolves to devote himself to the pursuit of letters, to become an author. Supposing, as has been the case with thousands who
have preceded, that his first attempts at authorship are unsuccessful. His
expectations are <lisappointed ; the promise of fame and of support i•
withered and blighted ; the world looks upon him with indifference ; a
rival regards him with contempt ; and the sharp and cold words of the
critic ring in his ear the knell of his first literary offspring. If he acquiesces in the decision or his judges, it is only confessing his poor claims to
distinction. If 11ot, he feels that time alone can pronou11ce the true decisiou
upon his writings, there is yet '"' resort for him, if he would obtain support
from the profossion which he has chosen, but to couform his writing" to the
popular taste. Follow that man to his closet, and witness the struggles of
his mind, the contest between inclination and interest. The one prompts
him to follow his own genius ; to llllCr the dictal.r." or his OWll focfings, to
·be tl'lle to his own 11ature. The other sternly requires hi111 to how lo the
critics, lo yield to the decision of the public, and in foture lo lower his aspirations. lt is true, that we would most deprecate the evils of making
authorship a profossiou ; that we would warn the young aspirant for literary
.distinction, with means inadequate to his support, against trusting to the
unc~rtain rnward of his exertions, unless he is willing to degrade his genius,
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ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

and substitute for his own taste and inclinations, those of the capricious Rnd
unthinkino- multitude. If, instead of rely ing npon the avails of anthorship,'
he look s ~J anolhcr profess ion for lhc means of suhs i:-: te ncc, the th ought!
his lt!is11re moments may he gi\'Pll tu the world, without be ing fashioned nnd
moulded hy the opiniorrn of other me n. How can we expect one to presene
his individnality as a writer, if it mnst be at the expense of his interest, hit
only means of •npport. lie that 1locs r-ight ouly from interested motives,
cannot rauk among men of the highes t mornl excellence ; nor can the author, who writes mainly with a view to his own s upport, he considered tht
moet vigilant guardian of the cause of trnth and letters.
Nor is this all. \Vhcn an author has resig ned hi s right of se lf-guidance,
and has taken up the trade of writing to suit the public tas te ; whose desire
is to write what may be popular ; the kindred desire soon manifests itselr
of inc reas ing, as fast as possi ble, the 11111nber of his works. Names are not
wanting to prove, that this has often been the case, and that, loo, with some
of the most di s tingui shed authors. \Ve witness it in the thousand ephemeral
production s , that appear lint to attract the pnhlic curiosity for a moment,
and t he n give way t.o works ae wort.hies" and s hortlivcd as thc111•clve1 i
jnstifying the re111ark," that authorship immoderately c111ployecl makes the
head wa ste and the heart empty," eve n were there no other and worse cnn•
sequences ; anU that a person who sends aw:iy through the pen and th4'.1
presR C\'cry thought, the 1110111c nt it occurs to him, will, in a short time, have
sent all away, a1ul will become a mere jo111"11C}' lll:tn of the printing oflice, a
composi tor ! The cau::-c uf literature i ~ the r,a11 !:' e of tnllh, a11d it would be
ns 1111n ccesRary as unwise lo trust ii in llie lmnd !'l of th m;c~, who would eupport its inter es t, 011ly so far as they coincided with their own.
\Ve would willingly join in the sentiment of Professor H enry, that" we
need an order of men of lofty intellec tual endowment, an intellectual high·
pri esthood standing within the inner veil of the temple of truth, reverently
watchino- before the holy of holies for· its divine reve lations, and giving them
out to the lower ministers at the altar ; " but if this pri esthood and their
inferior ministers must become the servants a nd depende nts of the m11ltituJe,
whom it is their great otlice to guide and direct, their powe r and their Ul!Cfuln ess are at an end. The shrine of trnth had better be intrusted to infe•
rior hand s, or at once be desecrated an<l O\'erthrown, than beco me the sano1
tuary of hypocrisy and error.

have too often made their writings the channel of their infidelity , and thrown
ont the ir doubts and in sinuation s on every opportunity. Hume, again, was
led away hy hi s love of kings ; he was too great a favorer of the doctrines
of pass ive obedie11ce and th e divine right of kings ; too much of a monarchist to feel any of that ardor, whi ch glowed in the breasts of Hampden and
Sydney ; he consc11nently ' ' ic ws with apathy every attempt of the people to
be free , "'"' co11siders every asse rtion of popular rights as an invasion of
royal prerogative.
. Neither is Dr. Lingard free from blame ; indeed, we fear that he has
wholly forfeited the character of an honest historian ; he has erred and
greatly errPd, fro m his zeal for hi s pani cular religion . Educated in the
faith of the R o mish church, he must naturally feel a love and a reverence for
her inst ituti o ns ; a priest at he r altar, and, as we hope, sincerely believing
~ n the doctrines which he teaches, he must feel a desire to defend her from
~ the attacks a11d calumnies of her e nemies. But his zeal has carri ed him too
far ; he seeni. to think him self pledged to support, not only her doctrines,
bnt tho mea11s she has use d to extc11d these doctrincR, and 11pho l<I her temporal'. a s well as her spiritual authority ; every thing in the farthest degree
related to H oly Mother C hurch is , in his eyes , sacred ar.d invio lable, and
the Popi sh miracles, the masoacre of St. Bartholomew, and the Gunpowder
Plot a rc as much e11titlcd to defence , as the doctrines of transubstantiation
.,. and the infallibility of the Pope.
'
If the wi sh to d<> away the prejmlices against his faith, and induce men to
look with more charity upo11 lhc doctrines of his sect, furni shed any 1notive
· to Dr. Lingard fo1· writi11g hi s hi story, he lmR entirely fail ed of his object
by gra sping at too much ; he has lost the whole, he has weakened bis side
and exposed himself to the ridicule and attacks of his adversaries.
If he had merely advocated the doctrines of his church, and endeavoured
by fair argument to convince me n of their truth, although we cannot allow
an historica l work to he the fit place for theological di scussions, we should
not hav.e so much reaso 11 to complain. But when he espouses the causP. of
error, and virtually by apologizi11g for, if not o penly hy vindicating, supports
those measures, which every ma n 's conscie11ce must tell him admit of no
excuse, when he de fe nds the characters of those men whom the voice of
all ages since their own has condemned to infamy, we must either doubt his
since rity or pity his u1111crs ta11ding. l'eople arc now too enlightened to
· justify those means which centuries ago were employed to compel men's
consciences . It is idle now to te ll a man, that it will Le doing God service
to assassinate his neighhonr, because he will not hear muss, how to the
host, and aclrnowlcdgc the l'ope ns hi• spiritual father.
Dr. Lingard takes Cl'cry opportu11ity lo exalt the merits of those of his
own sect, and to speak in terms of indiffe rence, if not of disparngement, of
every distingui shed protestan t. While Carcli11al Pole is the s ubject of the
highest encomiums, Archbishop Cranmer is passed as a man of but little
talents, and less strength of character. \Vhile he in a manner defends the
cruelties of the Maria11 persecution, and vindicates the c haracters of Ilonner
and Gardiner, when scarcely the fire s of S111i1hfield arul the piles of Ridley
and Latimer, Hooper and Cranmer arc e xtin!l"uished, he complains of the
restraints, the fines, and impri sonments , which , under Elizabeth, were imposed on the Popish recusants. While he magnifies every indiscretion of
the unfortunate Anne Bolleyn into a crime, and would load her character
with the blac kest infamy, he extols the virtues nrul conceals the vices of
Mary Stuart, whose only virtue was her weakness, and whose only apology
for crime her youth and beauty.
Whate ver 111c rit the re may he in Dr. Lingard's History, either of originality and deep and extensive resea rch, which he cla ims, or of bea uty of style
e.nd pleasi ng narrati o n, which ha ve been a llo wed him, all these , however,
will by no means make up for the manifest partiality towards the Catholics,

or

A LITER'\(lY DISCUSSION.
(One side 011l1j.)

The merits of the Histories of Hume and Lingard.
False opinions in moralit)', or mi s taken notions in philosophy, are not
so m11ch to he dreaded, as the wilful misrepresentations of the historian.
"Nulli11s add ictus jurare in verba magi stri," should he the motto of every
ho ocs l hi s torian ; he his parly in lhu ri ght or wrong, he ia to state" the
tru t h, the whole trmh , and nothing lrnt the truth." Yet there is no one
who ha s greater induce me nts to misreprese ntatio ns than the historian.
Party feelings will lead him, not 011ly to extenuate th e guilt and apologir.e
for the measures of hie fri ends, but to exaggerate the mi sco nduct of his ad·
\'ersarics, a11d allrih11tc e very act o f the irs to t he wor~ t of moti1•es. Dut,
shoul1I he l"" e the good fortune to he of no politi ca l party, yet the ani1no1I·
ties of the c hurch are no less bitte r, than those of the state, and theolngical
enmities arc far more diflic11lt to co111porn, since eac h re ligions sect believet, ·
that the voice uf its own parti1m11s is, without doubt, the voice of God.
Almos t every historian has bee n influenced in one or the other of thete
way s. Hume and GiLbon, professing to be the enemies of all religion,

I

.!

:1
t.
344

AIDS TO

345

ENGLISH COJ\1POSITION.

and the constant prejudice against the Protestant faith, which prevail
through the whole work. It will never be a popular hi story ; it may be
read and admired at St. Omer's and Dovay, it may be found in the library
of the scholar, but never, like Hume, in every parlour, and in th e hands of
common readers.

.: .

'. i

\Vhen the hi Rturian strays frnrn the truth, hi s work beco mes a mere work
of fiction, inhe riting all the duln css of narration, willmut acquiring nny of
the livelin ess o r ro111auce ; it can neither instruct us lik e the one, nor umuse
us like the other. Facts mi srepresen ted, however they may be skilfully
adapte1l to our particular prejudices, will always be lik e the tlattered por•
trait, whi ch may gratify our vanity, or please us by th e excellence of the col·
oring, but can never inspi re us with that interest that lrnth alone can impart.
MODEL I. OF A

DELlll E ilATIVE DISCUSSION.

" Liberal Principles as affecting the strength of Government."
The opinion that the strength of government consists in its being placed
as far beyond the influence of popular commotions as possi ble, is one of long
sta nding, and, whe n rightly understood, is, without doubt, perfectly correcl.
Il ut I do \'ery mnch doubt the correctne'8 of that ex pos iti on of it, or rather,
of that perversion of it, which teaches that the strength of a governmenl '
con sists in crushing the energies of the people, and con tinuing them in a
state of abject 111e11tal a nd moral degradation a nd da rkness. Nay , I con·
cei\'C such a mode of proceed ing to be entirely incompat ible with the strengih
of government. For, let us suppose the ex istence of such a state of things
as has just bc1m alluded tn. Let us suppo•c a people i11vol1'cd in a harhari1111
the most complete and gloomy that the world ever knew; and that they ure
ruled with a despoti sm, compared with whi ch the Ottomun despotism of the
present day is \'ery liberty . I allow, th1tt so long as they can be continued
rn a state of such miserable elavery and darkness, so long will the govern·
ment stand, and stand firmly . But who will answer for it, 1hat the light
shall never break in 1 \Vh o will vouch that they shall never rouse from this
moral lethargy 1 \Vho is there that dares affirm that thi s Samson, thou~h
now blin ded, a nd shorn of his streng th, oppressed, mocked, insulted, will
not at some future peri od, remote 'it may he, collect the force of his ener·
gies, a nd hurl do wn the whole fabric of tyranny on the devoted heads of his
followers1 Station a guard, if you please, in every house,- set a spy over
e v ~ry nrn.'1's act io.n ~; but tell me, of what effect will your guards and your
spies be 111 restramrng the current of men's thoughts 1 \.Vere th ey possessed
of no oth er means of coming to a sense of the ir wro1ws, the very circum·
stance .th:>t the re are i~ the co.mmunity. those who do n~t fee l these wrongs
( the m1'.1i.ters of despotism).' th~ s very c! rcmnstance, I sn y, woul~I inev itably,
though 11 may be s lowly, raise in the mmds of the people refl ection s on their
own co nditi on as compared with that of their rnlers . It w ill then be hnt a
s ho rt proces;-; _fo r 1he111 to beg in to des i r~ bette r thi11gs; ctt uJ eve ry one at all
co n.\'er~ant w1t.h h~m!an n:iturc, k nows full wf' ll th:1t_ wh en m en once hegi n to

des ire m ea r11 cst, It is not Jo11g e re they mak e a 11 e ll urt to possess the mselvee

of th e obj ect of the ir wishes . A spirit of iu subord i11ati o11 hns thus arisr.11;
a nd now tell me, student of hi story, tell me, po lit.i cia11, where will it enu1
Let ty ra1111y, and the. illiberal pri11ciplc• whi ch hare hit.111 ,rto prevailed, in
h:111gh1y mumr:rnce of tlu.~ir own 111 ig lit, 1n ~ 11il1lf ~, li11· tlic·ir dow11foll it4 nt
h:i11d. All th e cx pcri c11ce or. a.II '. '!;"" "'·""v" foll well, 1.h:11. when a people
are 011ce roused tu a se11 sc of lllJ11nes , opiatr..;; m ore po we rful than man can

tell of, are req uired to lull them to a seco nd sleep.
Ir, now, the re be nny nee1l of example• in proof of wh at I have adva nced
I ha1•e only to refer you to the revolution which req uired the best blood of
France to wash away the illiberal principles which had hitherto swayed the

the free sta tes of North Amer ica , who owe the i1· ind ependence
to the blind and narrow policy whi ch had actuated the British monarchy
ever since the day s of the first James, - to Greece, the last stron.g hold,
west of the Dardauelles, of those who once spread the terror of their arms
from bcvo nd the farthest stretch of the Caucas ian range to the m o~ t. di stant
1horcs ;, r remotest Eurnpe; hut whose oppress ive and impolitic principles
are now, we confidently trnst, about to for ce th~m, a disgrnce1l and desp ised
race, with a weak and irresolute government, rnto a corner of the earth, a
terrible monument to all nations of the in sutliciency of intolerance for the
1uppon of power.
.
. .
. .
But, while in a gover.n ment est.abli shed. on 11l1ben~I l.'r111 c1ples, th e r~ are
1he most fonn11lable sprrngs of n1111, I believe that pr1nc1plcs , the o pp ~s ~te of
tl!%C, coutribnte, more than any other cause, to the stre11gth and _stab1hty of
government. It is .i1ppos.ed, of course, that. the people are enlightened to
the adl'antages a nd necess ity of government rn some slmpe or other; and .to
suppose that they would b.e willing subje.cts of a po wer "'.hose co nstant ann
was to oppress and restrarn th?11· cnerg.•es, to reduce tl~ e lt' prerog at1v~s , to
obstruct their interes t, a11d to l11nd er their advancement 1n moral a nd rntel·
lectual improvement; or , to suppose that th~y would .become willi11g instru·
ments of destruction to a government, wl11ch, keeping pace with the pro.~ress of eivilization, a nd the spirit of the age,, would secure to t~1 em every
privilege, in as hi gh a .d eg ree, as woul~ be pos~1ble fo r them to enJO)', would
be to de11 y the \'lery c 1r c um s tf~nce win ch has 3ust been t>.1ken for granted,
namely, an enli ghtened co nd 1t1011 .of the. ~eople. So far, ~nd eed, frum overturnj11g th e gove rnrn e ut , the.1r ma111. eul 1c1tude, 1~nl ess th e ir motives of co~1 ..
cluct w ere ~tranirr.lv at van:111cc with tho se whi ch us11a 11y acl11atc men 111

Ge as to the mea na of support ing it in its fullest strength;
_;so far rrom discarding it, thei r chief a nxiety wou ld be lest other powers,
jealou s of the inliue11 ce of such a n exa mple on thei r subj ects, should en·
<leavour lo wrest it from them.
It is in fact but the futil e ima.,inings of a disordered brain, which see
in the ~ llcct of,libera l principles ~ny thin g a pproac hing to the di sso lution of
government. Fo.1·. what. are liberal pri1.' cip l~ s, but a dispo~ ition to keep
pace with the spmt of 1~pr~veme nt . wl11ch 1s constantly go mg o n amon g
other cases, wouGJ

tnen1

A11d , can any one

111

hi s sober se nses , aver that good go ve rnme nt and

general c ivilization a re thin gs, so en tirely incom pat i~le, that the 011e c.annot
be e11joyed but at the expense of th 7 other1 That.vigor .and 5tal!1hty 111 national councils are e1•er, from then· very nature, 111 cons1stent with the pro~ress of the mind 1 That if men in s i ~ t on movi~1g oi.1wnrd in the. march of
mtellect, th ey must be content to ~a.c nfi c~ to tl11 s object e\'ery thing like:'
firm and we ll regulated state -adn11n1 slrall on 1 And s~, .on th e co1.'trary, 1f
they wish to be preserved. fr~m con s t ~nt a narc hy a nd ~1vil cnn tP-ntt0n , ~h ey

must be sat isfied to rema in 111 barbarism a nd degradation 1 S uch doctr111es
are too 111 on>trons to be harboured fo r a moment ; but yet I defy nny one to
deuv thnt they are the doctrines of th o•e who conte11d that libera l princ iples

are pincompali.lile with the stre ngt h of go\·~ rnmc11 t.

i :ur myse lf, w e re such

my belief, I woul<I utterly discard a ll allegiance to soc iety. I. would be~ake
myself to the obscurest corne r of the ea rth ; a nd there, dwelling aloof from
the world, a111l inaccessible to any of my rnr.~, I would prosecnte the culture
of my 11 nd1•rgtanding and my heart hy n1y"cll ,, and und1 stmhcd .hy th:1t con11cxiot1 witl 1 111y ~1H·cif ~:-1, whwh would, acconl111g l.o llw,;c doclr111t·f', rn vo lve

my

mind in ignorance and da r~ 11 C8 1-l.

My

ti:\1111!

F:lio11ld lie

110

more known

among a ll mankind. I wonld h ve alone; a11d uone other should rule over
me than the Alrnighty.

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

346

AIDS TO

MODEL II.

"Liberal Principles as affecting the strength of Government."
That th r rights which nature has hc<towe1l upon ma n may he protected
and enjoyed, he find s it necessa ry lo s11l oject himse lf to la ws, and tu part
with some porti on of hi s ori gina l frr.cdom , for lhc ma i11te nancc of the righ11
a111l freedo m of hi s follow """'· The social ~ystem of which he is n 111e111·
Lcr, e nt itles him lo other r ights, without which, ci"il liberty is nut enjoyed,
a nd the e nd s fo r whi ch soc iety was form ed are not obtained. Those princi·
pico of gnvernment a re liLeral, which secure lo man the ri ghts of nature and
of •oc iety . They are the principles which co ndu ce to the happiness and
p rosper it y of a nati on ; but it has been obserred by politi cal writers, and
the ohse r'va ti on has heen so freqnently made, I hat ii a ppears a lm ost an axiom,
th a t those ve ry princ iples have a powcrfitl encct in weak cuing gove rnment .
lleaso 11 and exper ience confirm the rema rk. Though hi story ha s often n~cl
clearly pmvcd lo ns tha t man is unwilling lo he oppressed Ly man, and wtll
not sacr ifice hi s just ri ghts, when the possess ion of the m will not injure
others, he has unfortuna tely se ldom restrained him"e lf from abusing as ·~on
as he beg ins to enj oy the lll, till he finally suLjccts himself to oppression
whi ch he endeavoured to esca pe.
I t is in their liability to abuse, that the great danger of liheral principles
is f:.Cc n.

'fu e njoy th eir advantages mnch preca u1.ion mus t he tak en ~lgainst

thei r ev ils. They are liable to be carri ed to excess. T o establish the
proper securit y, a nd to ma rk out the proper limits fo r them, seem almost
impossible. The work will Le imperfect. The exam ples of ancient gov·
e rnments too plainly prove that it was so in them. Faction and corrnption
were the consta nt companions of liberty, con tinua lly di stracting and en·
fee bling government. They soon exerted their pernic ious inlluence, when
Athens bega n to enjoy that liberal principle, which rendered the voice of the
people the law by whi ch they were to he governed. That free principle
whi ch declare d the proud patri c ians and humble plebeians of R ome equal,
and gave the latter the enjoyment of public offices in company with the form·
er, addP.d not lo the strength of govern ment. \oVe find that the interval o(
tranquill ity was hut short , a nd that the tllmults of the p<>oplc, and die op· '
press ion of a mbit ious citizens, soon followed. Sy lla was the favorite, and
Lecarne th e tyrant of the people.
'' So every scope hy lhe immoc.lcrnte use
Leads to restraint."

The principal cause of the fall of the republic of Rome, has been as.
cribed to the excess of power which the favor of the people too often in·
.
truFted to unworthy han ds.
As libera l principles allow the people some degree of power, the questwn
ma y with aood reason Le asked, whether that power will content them
whether it" will not be intenti ona lly abused, or imprmlently exerc ised 1
Th ey nre fo rgetful of the relati on in which they stand to each other; o(
the res pons ibility under which they am placed. Ign orant or th oughtless of
the bene fit of the whole, which the pri vileges of each i111livid11al cnaLle hiru
to rr•nd,,.·, thPy Loo rea dily Racrific<! the good of 1he p11hl ic 1.o !heir own par•
tialit y f~ ,r Ho11;e flallcri11g dema gogue. 'fhcy are not Hc11sil1lc of Lho true
va lnc of the libera l princ iple which is. put .in the ir h :~1ul s, lml ~h ey are fu!ly
aware 1hat th ey possess power, and will .mr sn~ply the11· possessw n lo g!attfy
themse lves, a t the expe n<c of 1hc publi c sa fety, a nd th~ pnhltc h :~pp111 es~.
Such is th e abuse of the ri crht of suffrage, an ahnse to whi ch the pnvilegc II
always ex posed , howe,•er '~e ll informeil the people may be of the true de·
•ign of society, and of the happiness which it is in the ir power to confer,

347

We need not examine a ncient hi story, and the imperfect constitutions of
ol<l governments, to be co nvinced tha t free principles will Le dangerous.
The hi story of lat er times will give us the same information. Will not our
own days teach us the same lesson 1 W e have seen the dangers of the
res•. Jn the words of one of our own writer•, "its freedom will be a bused.
tis a prec ious pest , and necessary mi schi ef, that has spoiled the temper of
our liberty, a n:! tnay shorten its li fe. "
Another effect to be fea red from libera l princ iples, is a want of respect
towards thoFC who make and aclminister the laws. If the people arc clirrct·
ly or inclirccLly the 111akers of th e laws, do they the more willingly suLmit to
them 1 Th e magistrates, whom they have created, they will look upon as
their equals, but equality may be forgotten Ly the magi strates . They will
be appro,·ed Ly some and disapproved Ly others. There will ari se oppos ition of party to party, a nd oppression of the one by the other. The pur·
poses of go,·ernment are forgotten, while each looks with j ealousy upon his
opponc11t. Th ere is none of that fee ling of a we and reverence whi ch the
author ity of an heredita ry ruler insp ires, whose cradle is a throne, of whose
oppress ion it is uangero us to complain, and the success of resistance
doubtfol.
It is the fo unda tion of the political theory of a distinguished writer, tha t
honor is the su pport of a monarchy , fear of a despotism, a nd virtue of a
republi c. The strongest governments place the ir eecurity in princ iples
which aw e or capti vate th eir subj ec ts. They take advantage of e\'ery mode
which will exci te ten or or deli ght. The will of a despot hows down the
victims of ignorance with fear and trembling, who hardly da re to kn ow tha t
nature has bestowed upon them faculti es and rights, which were gi\'en for
their hap piness, or the strength of government is derived from a fountain of
honor, a11d consists in ornaments of silver and gold, in the stars a nd grand
crosses of nobility, or in the amuseme nts by which men are charmed into
submission. \Ve may then say, though in a different sense from the original,
"Amuse me nt is the happiness of those who cannot think ." But in what
does the strength of liberal governments cunsiet1 In something of far hi gher authority tha n the will of any mortal; in something more ennoLling than
all other honor ; in the only true divine right of sovereignty, the virtue of
the people .
This is n strong foundation ; but is it not one which is more to be de·
1ired than expected 1 It is little to the honor of human nature that the
principle of fear has Leen found to ha\'e a more powerful influence than the
principle of virtue. S uch has been the case; and liberal principles, from
the want of power to preserve them in their purity, ha\'c too ofte n produced
effect•, whi ch it seemed contra ry lo their nature to prnduce. Though they
may Le benefi cia l to themseh'es, they will be corrupteu, unless there is that
degree of intellectua l nnd morn) cuhiva tion in the community which we a re
not justified in "x pec ting. It is true, that there is little hope of virtue a nd
learning a mong a people without libera l prin ci ples to encourage and su pport
them . Some portion of freedom is certainly necessary before virtue can be
expected to di splay herself, a 11d exert her inlluence openly, and before the
mind can exercise to adva nta ge the faculties with whi ch it is gifted. But
•·. does it follow that thi s liberty will always reform a community 1 Liberal
principles may be adopted too • ud de nly, before the character of a peo ple is
prepared for them, anil then, while they prudncc not the happiness , which
they otherwise w1111l•l produce , will create a11nrchy or op)trt$sion.
Tims it appears that sonw information a ncl virtue are required for the protection of liLeny . .But, when free principles are established , and they are
· producing contc11tment, virtue may not Le secured, may not he pres.,rved.
All tbe e ffec t which fea r has over the mind is removed, a nd the faculti es are
roused to li fe and exertion from a etate of tranquillity, but a tranquillity like
that of the tombs. To escape from the terror of despotism, is a bless ing ;

f

I

348

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

but there is danger of the slaver¥ of vice. Virtu~ is, indeed, encourngecl
by liberty to come forward to t.he _hght, ancl to exercise hers~lf for tl!e be~
fit of man· lmt vice meets with like encouragement, and will readily seize
its opportt;nity to gratify itself, and to exert its ~orrupting inlluen?e.
The unfortunate terminations of many revolutwns 111 favor of hberly, Rrt
to be found in the want of virtue and knowledge amoug the people, who lrt
consequently incapable of governing themEelve8.
•
Since, then, lib1!ral principles have been so constantly abused, unless the
people are in a high degr:e virlu?us a111I enlightened, we .must loo~ for
strength to the checks provided against the abuse of power ~n the scp.~ra~I
departments of go1·ernment; not to the a~reeable, though l;'o~sonous pr1~CI•
ples of liberty, lint to the antidote which 1s constantly admrn1stered aga1n1t
their daugerous effects.
DISPUTATIONS.
Disputations arc exercises in which 1mrlies reason in opposition lo
each other on _s ome question proposed. They are verbal contl'Bte re•
specting the truth ~f some fact, opini?n, proposition, _o r argur~cnt. ..
As literary exercises they are prmc1pally of two kmds, Philosopln·
cal, and Forensic Disputations.
.
.
.
Philosophical Disputations are those in winch some pl11losoph1clll
fact, principle, or theory is discussed.
Forensic Disputations are those in which some lcg•tl, moral, or po·
litical subject is argued.
MODEL J. OF A FORENSIC DISPUTATION.

Whether Popular Superstition, or Enligh~cned Ol'inion, be most favor·
able to the grnwth of Poctiwl Literature.

nient to admit. Poetry is not the peculiar characteristic of a J"Ucle and imperfect stale of society; it is nut a plant which can thrirn only in the soil
of ig11ora11cc; on the contrary, an art which, I du not say, keeps pace with
the improvement of society, but is destined rather to precede it; to be, as it
\\'ere, 111a11's Go1DE lo indefinite ad\>·ancement. In proof of our posit.ion,
we need only rcfo r to the elcnlling influe nce of poetry itse lf; an inllnc11ce
admitted by all, and one whi c h eve ry breast ha s more or less experienced.
The poet' s influence is through the feelings, and, as mankind in their nature
ha1•e bee n, and always will be, essentially the same, the trne poet, in the exercise
his profession, has the key lo the •cnsibili1ies and aflections of his
fellow me n; when he touches the strings of his lyre, it is only to produce
those notes with which every bosom throLs in unison. It becomes , th e n, an
easy. ta sk for him to instruct an<l to elevate , to call man nway from the ab' sorbing influe nce of worldly pass ions arnl pursuits, to a view of what is
most ele,·att~d in his own nawre, and most noble in the crea tion around him,.
to wean hi111 from the prc:-;ent, rrncl fit hi111 for the future. 1 ' his f~xe rl.ion of
a rcfi11i11g and clm·:u.ing i11lhwncc is a pn ~rogativt~ of the poet ad111iltrd l1.1J all;
bul nnisl we also liclicvc, that, when he i• 111usl sncccss fnl in Iii, gl11riuns
oflice, he is at the sa me time di111ini shing 1he power and will in his followmen to a ppreciate or countenance his work~ 1
The poe t's peculiar libe rty and privilege is to give free wing to hi" imagi- "" nation; a liberty allowed by every one. In poetry, indeed, we look fur fie- _lion, though its legitimate object be truth. Popular superstitions, therefore,..
afford an ''asy and ample subject for the poet's pen, and always must, to .
· !ome d1• g n~ e , c11hanr;e the beauty n11d attraction of his works. For what
are popular superstitions but the dreams
the imagination ; perhaps, the .
fantasies of the poe t's own hrain 1 It is asse rted by some writers, that the
Greeks were indebted fur their mythnlogy to the writings of Hesiod and
Homer; that the ir religiou s notion s we r e vague and un!!cttlc<l until the fertile
imagination of th eir poets devised fur them a system of worship. Ind eed, ,
we may safely believe, that a great propnnion, if not most of the supersti~ lions, ~vhi ch have pre, aile<l iii· the world, have sprung into existence at the
poet's calling. \.Yhe11 this is not the case, 1hey owe their origin to the disordered imagination of some less gifred mind.
From the wonde rs and
beauties of nature, then, one of the poet 's most fertile the mes, he can no
. longer recc ire i11Epiration, when the floating visio11s of superst ition 110 longer
1urround them; wh e n beli ef in that which ignorance or the fancy of funner .
poets has generated has liee11 res ignctl for more rational opi11iuns. The
genius of poe try forbids sneh a se11ti111enl. Does the Hower which has hlos. 10111cd and faded from the creation bccon1t) destitute in the poet's eye of
poetical assoc iations, because he cannot credit the imaginative belief of
ancient bards, that Flora has it in her care, while the sporting Zephyrus
fans its petals, parched by the mid-day sun 1 Is tlie di stant planet less
worthy a place in the poet's thought, hecan"e its secret influence, whether
good or evil, can no more be credited 1 Does "old ocean" lose any of its
1ublimity, beca use it is no longer, even in the poet's mind, peopled by the
Tritons, N ere id s, and father Neptune 1 Such, and like notions were the
theme of ancient poets, and their countrymen g·ave willing credence to their
tales. The modem bard might as well stalk the streets in the toga and the
buskin, as bring into his lines the dreams of heathen mythology. Y ct he is
not circnmscribcd by narrow bo11111l~ because he may not follow in the regions
o( hnagination th e wild excursions of the a11cie11ls, or because hi s own light
fancy may soar no higher than less active reason can accompany_her.
The lruc pocl, so far from requiring, will decline the guidance or dictation of his predecessor. It is his oflice and his pride to present his subject
in a nov el and inreresting l'iew ; to shed upon it new light, and invest it
with additional attractions. If we arlmit this, we need ha,•e no apprehen-

er

ur

4

1

Fable and superstition form so large a part of the ground-work o.f ancient_
poetry, an~ ar~ so i1!tim_ately co1~necte<! with. that of all succe_ed1~g agru1,
that a partial mvcst1gatwn of thl! subject might lead us to ve1 ¥ e11 one~111
conclusions. From the hare consideration of this fact, we might be_ Jn•
duced to give assent to that opinion, which would make superstition ind!•·
pensable to the production of poetry, and which would therehy con~11e 111
progress to a certain period in the civilization ?f the world. ":N~ nnght RI
well, however, consider the 1lross as a consllluent <~f the v1rg111 gold, Bl
suppose that the imperfections and errors connected with poetry wcrn e~scn•
tial to the divine art.
Homer has left a monument of ge nius which will be read an1l admired b7
remote ages yet to come; but will it be looked upon. as one of those pr~d1•
~ies o! f~rmer times, the history of which alone rema111s to_them, for .winch,
111 thell' tune, they can find no parallel or counterpart1
'V di, then, Ins ~
try be viewed as the production of au art peculiar to forn~er ages, but Jn
these times unknown; a shadow, an illusion, which bas vanished before the
increasing light of civilization; or will it not rather be admired and >CD•
erated, as one of the earlie"l fountains to which posterity can trace the m~g·
nilicent stream, which, in their age, may be extending its hralthy and In•
vigoraling inlluence through all the channels of society 1 Yet? the idea that
superstitions opinions are essentially important to the productwn of poetry,
wonld exclude the possibility of any great progress _in _the _art. Sm~e error
must gradually disappear befurc knowlrnlge and cn·1hz:itwn, and srnce !~·
perstition mnst vanish whe rever Christianity sheds its blessed inlluence, 11
follows, that poetry must, some day, in the progress of the wol'ld, be seeo
in the decline. The possibility of this, we should be unwilling for a mo•

349

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350

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

sions that the muse will be invoked in vain, though she may not be courted
as in former days.
\Ve would 11ot willingly detrncl from the merits of ancient poetry, or thal
of any hanl that has as Y"t dawned upon the world, h11t as we wonld nol
limit the pro~n~ i..;s of any art or sc ience hy llw a1ha11cc1111•11t which they may
have reached i11 li1n11cr Li11u ~s, Ro we would

1iol

circ11111scril1c Ilic "di\'i1101l

of all arts" within the narruW bm.111dary of a fow t:Cllturics in the wodJ'infancy.
MODEi, 01' 1"0R8NSIC J>ISl'U'l'A'l'IUN

(r:ontinul;(l).

Whether Popular S11pcrstit irms or Enlightr.ncrl 071i1Lion be most Javor·
able to the growth of Poetir;al Litcr11turc.
"Good scnf:;e," says Cnlcridg~, "is the hndy of poet ic geniu~, fancy it!I
drapery , motion it s life, and imagination its 8o ul, " - a11d it is the remark
of o ne who had learned to analyze with exactn ess th e feelings of the pocl.
Let us see how we ll c xa111inatin11 jnslifies the definition. ' Ve may consider
the s11 hjec t unde r two head<;- ! st. Do superstiti o n and e nlightPned opinion
united promote poetic:al literature 1 2tl. II' they are not ca pable of being
tlrn ~ uni led, do o ur ordinary or.c11p:Hions promote that lite ralule '!
The nrst point W C shall not slri\'C I•> es:t.a lili i-:.:11. Popular s11pr.rstitions are
,-e ry few at the preRe nt day. 111tclli!(<·nce iR widely diff11 setl; lmok• and
readf:ni arc rnultipl yi11 g, ancl c11ligl1tc:11 cd opinion is se llin g up a very wide
doinini tin. It is now thought imp11;-:!' il1l e for s upers tition a11d education to
exi s t torre ther . The n are our ordinary occ11pation~, in ~ the second place,
favorahl; to poeti ca l litera ture 1 Ad millin g that e11li g htened opinion i1
gair;i11g the ascenrle ncy , let ns sec whether it favors .the i111.a.gi11ation,whether a prevailing ~ hrewd n cs~, and the common arTairs of life, are suffi.
cicnt without the aid or supcrs lition, for po e t ~ ancl nov e li s ts . .,

Life is rnad c up of rcaliti<!~ ; our wants, th 1111~h cont.i1111ally s11pp1i cd, nre
co11ti1111:dly lo Le suppli.,d. The aunos pherc of the world is the chilli11g Ill•
mos phcre uf reality, <!Xertiou, and di s;i ppo i11t111c11l. There is lit.tie poetry
in co mm•Jn life; little po e try in unrewarded exe rtion, or und eserved opprcesion, or disappointed ambi t ion. Y et these make an e~se nLial part of life,
and thr"y are preci s1:ly wh.at give sud! a matte r-of-foe~. , mq~o e tir:al tone to
most mind~. How 111:1ny fee l, a s they follow wh ere the ir duti es direct them,'
any thing of poet ry or romance 1 Are not all di s hr artenetl at lime~ by the
plain r ea lities of tlH'.ir lot 1 Notw11.h:->tand111g 1t1a11y happ) con 11exio11::i, \VO
sorncti111cs feel m1n:clv cs , h111h as i11divid11al s a11d 11;1tio11 s, too much fcllernd,
and want somcthi1w to <lclight and cnnuble, as well as kee p tl R alive. This
<lelici ~ 1H:y is supp lied by lhe e molions springin g from po pular ddu~ inn;
which stea linU' lik e a rni st over the picture befor e u s, so fl ens the whole
Iand.sc:1 pe. 111e rc s t_n~i11tf; ~ f society may fetter po~tic gen iuf-l, bnt the \'is·
ion and the faculty d1vme, c1rc111n staiH:es cannot en tire ly r epress ; whenc\•er
it i ~ curhccl by the w1u·ld, popular f: 11pcrsti1.io11 fn ~cs it from il.R hu11dage,
a11d ki11dh ! ~ agai11 1h1 ~ lr:unpl1 :d ~park.
\Vhat w e tlcoraJ c a~ s11per stiti1111, is;, in truth, the 'rcry sont of poetry,
and no more s.;;>arnbl" from it than soul from hody. It may fail of it" olr
ject, and make gross what onght lo be pnre, bnt the.spirit that wonld con· ,
de11111 ~mpcrstition 011 _Hncl~ grounds, w1.J11ld ~p11rr1 _a p1c1.n~·e of tl.w_ Mado.nna
because 1.lic Ha111e JU '. JH~ il 1111 gl1t have dcl11H~:1t1 ~ d a v1xc11. :--i11pC'r!-' l.1t11111 ~pl'lng1
from the irua11inatio11 and fanc y; poe ti ca l li te r:n 11rc is directl y :11ldreescd to
these powers" uf mind, and cannot O? nri Rh without them. l'hilos'.>Jlhy nnd
hi sto ry are not dl'pcnd ent o~ them; 1f they. ~ talc fact s , and draw .J""t con·
clusions, the ir ends are allarnetl. Super ~ t1l1011, o n the co11trary, 1s an em·.
hndying of the grand, th e te11d e r, .the tc rrifir., a::; s~ 1it s the m~n~I, -the ere·
ating, as it were, a world of pags1ons and p_eret-~ pl1011s t~o .sp1nlual _for com•
mon. lile, and yel too natural not to be exerci sed. Now 1s not all tin s poetry
in itd true sense 1
1

351

Everv imn(J'inati,·e or s11pr.rst1ti o\1s nation has ahounderl in pn~tical lit e ra.
lnre. 'l'hc· ir" peculiarities of thou g ht a> s ist th e anlhor, bes id es c11hi1·ating
the ta~te a11d exercising the i111:i g inatio11 of the reader. Th~ .Fncc~ss of
mntlern poet ic lil erature, no1.wi1ii ~ larnlin g our '~ant o~ sttp~wst1.uo11, _is 11_11t
1111fl1v11rahle tu I.hi s view.
A c ha11gt' has liccn c ncc ted Ill tlllM krnd o l WJ'll·
ing ('.on1· ~ pn11di11~ lo 1.hn cxl.c11~im1 of f'.d~u :atiou. The 11ovc l.i £.; l now draw8
from human 11a111re r;,ther than ~11pcrst1111111; form e rly nrnlc nal~ were abun·
clanl and fancil'nl, lrnt they we re 1111t e111pl11y<"I with discretion. l'erhaps the
ma g11ifi1·r>11 ce of 1\1 ill1111 will bl• ad~luced as a11 i11sta11r.c of .110 supersti tion in
1he anth11r, and n ·quiring none 111 the rend er. llut ll'liltons adorn every
age. 1\1 iltnn';; poe try has been compa red lo the ocean; a nd altho1111h the
ocean is s11hli111e in >ts own naked grandeur, yet the benuty of the ml ancl
stream - the lc8"cr poetic strain - is increased when it sounds th1:011gh the
hidden nn·inc, and is overshadowed hy the da rk folrnge of superst1t1on.
Obeene the untutored i11ha bita11ts of the mountain,- whe re the link is
shorte;;t be tween nature and nature ' s Goel, -where every cliff is i1wested
with rn111 e popular le aencl , and e ,·ery valley a nd lake and hill·lOjJ may tell
some tale of fancy, so~Je drramin g of speculation, - ob~erve thes:e , as th ey
pay th e re the vows of a wild snpe rs tit.ion, and do you not co ntemplate the
very ·es,::;f~ rn : c of po e try~
I s tl1r.re no poetry in ~uperstition 1 'l'h e n bid
Macbeth :111d I la111l1:t be for gotten, and con~ign "the \.Vizard of the North"
to an 11nhc .. decl 1.. 1111t. Ca ll the drea ms ul' his fancy th e follies of diseaee,
and pitv th e n!. If WC de ny the p11elical natnre or s upers titi o n, what s h,,11
be sa id ·of th ose pla''''' where the genius of Scott has reve lled till it ha s hallowed th e \'erv Irad it.ion s of ignorance 1 Can we make powerless the wand,
which, in Sh:;l"pe:11·c' s h:1nd, called the mm'<lered lo the banque t , harassed
the guilty co11~c i c 11c c , and ur g~ d 1he irre~o lole t? revcng~ ~ .
.
.
A good proof that me re e nlightenm ent does little for 1magrnat1ve wnters,
may he found i11 thi :; cot111lry. \Ve arc "-:u1ting i11 popular legends , nnd,
be it said with ddi ·rc11 cc to wi~ e 11pptrnc11t.i:: , wa111i11~ in poc lic:al lil eralurc .
Our JHH!ls a11d 1101·.,Ji,ts arc few , :ind foe! too little the in spirntion of an
American h0111 e . Our national character may be th e be ttPr for thi s , but
our pureuits ha m made us , as a people, va s tly unpoetical. This is read ily
accounted for . W e have bee n a ccns tnmed fr om childhood, and still continuf',
lo rega rd chiefly w hat is neCe'5ary in life. Interes t a11d thrift arc g r:1vr'11
on every Lhin g i11 America; lh e waves and Lhe winds a re 11nwe lcumn with·
nnl the ex pec ted gain; and the cliff and s tream, howe1'el' bea111iful, are 11nr.onner.ted with s111H•rHl itious legends. Do not the words of one uf our poel s
upply to many of hi s countrymen 1

" Th e churl who hole.l s it he resy to 1.hink.
' .Y ho l oves no 11111 sic bnt the dollnr,s clink,
\Vh o l:i.ughs to scorn th e wisdom of the schools,

A 11d <l ce rns llie first of poeis first of fools,
'Vhn never found what ~oo cl from science grnw,
:;::a v 1·: th e crn rnl tr111h I hat on e nnd one nr e two,
.i\ wl 111nr V i-1 ~ llo w dit1 :h o'er H linnk "' lw11l1I pore,
1J1il t:s:i to 11111k c 1.hosc twn t11r11 i11ro l4111r ;

\ ·Vhn , plnced wh ere Cn ls kill 's forehead gree ts th e Kky ,.
Gri eves th at such quarries all unhewn should li e,
Or, gn1,i ng where Ninµ 1ua's torrents thrill,
Exr.h1ims, 'A monstrous strcnm to turn a mill!'"
Yef;, C\'Cll al 1his mo111c11l is the d c 111011 of 111ililariani s111 1lirowi11g hi8
houris '"""""I the r.ataracl of Nia gara, -lo scoop with a elam-shc ll the
wicked , wasle water, "'"I R11h•ti111te for tl·c to rrent's roar, the soul thrilling
m11sic of 1he clapper to a gr ist-mill ! If thi s is plain common sense , it is
not poetry. Tr11e, a fe w of tl1e r eel man '• race remain to wonder at the
ta sle which can so mi"use th ei r country~ but their spirit has been broken,

anrl t.l1 ey a re strangers in th e )and.

What th e n is th e use of popular superstition 1

Not to bind man to a r ev-

1'

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~"I·! i
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352

MODEL OF A PlllLOSOPUICAL DISPUTATION.

[One si<le only is presented.]

I

Wlictlwr Intellectual lmprovcnunt lie fwi:orablc to the Productions of ·
Jrnnginalion.

:~

Eve ry age and e''ery nation ha s its di s tinguished me n. It has had its he·
poets, orators, philoflophcrs, and slate:-::111e11. \Vhc ther we rro to the
abodes of civi li1.alion, or to tli e •haunts o f .sa\'<1ges, we s.hall find ~nen who
n.re properly the ma ste r fl pirits of their ;1ge, and who are destined to give
direction t o the o pini o ns and actions of the ir fell ow me n. This arises from
the ve ry co nstitution o f society, a11d each of the seve ral cla '""" of which it
i~ co111po~t~d arc i11 ~0111c d,~~.~Tcc dqu;nrlc11t 011 each other. 'l'IH~ fame of the
lwro d1·1w111l s un tl1e hislorian and pocl , a11d i11 return lhe achicVl~llll'lll9
Lhe (i1rr11er a(ford the most fertile themes for the falter. 8u111c pcriud::i , how.
ever, are more favorable than others . for the development of a parlir.11lar
kind of la le nt. The ancienls r ecog ni?.c<l an· iro n, a hro111.c, and a golden
age, and no impartial reade r of hi sto ry ca n· doubt th e justness of such A
clas~ifiealio11. Th e golrlen age wa s the age when tilc rat11re and the arts
flo11ri:·.:l1t!d , wh r. 11 ci\'ilizalinn had gained th e ascendency o,·cr IJarbarism, anJ
when the rights of the individual had begu n to Le res pec ted.
Th e re i" unJuubt:ed ly an opinion prel'ale nt, that int e llectual improve melll
is unfavorable to the imagination , - that the reasonin g powers cnnnol be
cultivated without impairing it. H11l such an opinion has 110 foun<lalion in
fact, a11d iis e11litlcd to no more r espect Lhan a thousa 11d o d1er 11otions that
are hand e d down from age to ~1ge, atJd are regarde d as true . The enemies
of free gove r11rn e11t te ll us, lhat lear ning ca1111ot flouri s h where all are ac . .
knowledged free a111I equal ; that lea rned men cannot grow up except in the
sunshine of royal favor, and that re ligion cannot work its benign effects ex.
cept on an ign orant community, and un<ler the guidance of an estahlishctl ·
church. Th e different rel:1tivc progress of f.hc sc ien r.<!S and works of ima·
gina1.io11 can he acco1111t.ed for without havi11g n•coursc to the theory aUovo
mentioned. A sc ience is nothing mnre tha11 the co mbin ed ex periments and
discoveries of llH~ n in all ages, while a work of imagination is , to a certain
cxlcnt., tl1e work of a ~i11~lc pr. r so11 . 'l'he philuso plu·r ea 11 lw~in where
Bacon and N1~wto11 l1Jt off, but lhe ptH'l lll11:::l hf'gi11 wln·n! 11111110 1' lie~a11.
'l'h1 : n~ i!-! a11oll1cr cause for the Jff(!valc11 cc of 1.hi ~ opinion, in I.he rnTonc•
ous view tak c u of I.he works of an unc11h.ivatcd peo pl e . That wild, lignrn . .
tive la11 g ua~e, which arises from its barrenness, is uflcn thuught to he con ..
elusive evidence of a lively imagination. As civilization advances, that
wildn ei::s and ex travagance disappenr; a~ language hcco1n c8 more copious
and fr~:ccl , lhn se bold figures arc 110 lon ge r llSP,d. Hut do e~ it follow, that
the i111a g i1ntio11 is less lively '! That that facully on whi ch our happine!I
so essentially depends is thus impaired li.v the very m ea ns by which our
good is promot ed? It cannot be. The God of nature , w ho made "wis·
dam's ways ways of pleasantness," did 11e ver decree that the i111proveme11t
of th e inte lleclual s hnuld darken that f:11:11l1y which is trnl y the 111i11d'a <!JC,
and through which the past as well as the f11t.1m,, and the auo<<:nt as well n1
the present, can be sca1111e<l. lmag inatio11 dues not co11fi11c itself to earth,
but
rue~,

or

1,

I'

t.

I

i

'
I
' '
.I

'

u Tired of it
And this dinrnnt scene, !i!ihe springs 11lnfl
Through field~ of air, pursues the 1l y i11 g storm,
Rides on the volleyed lighl.lling throu gh lhe h ea vens,
Or, yoked wilh whirlwinds and the uorth er n blast,
Sweeps the long track of day."

--· - - - -- - · - - - ----

ENGLISH comPOSITION.

AIDS TO

erence of folly, nor to exact unrleserved admiration, but to soften his nalnre
by exercising some of his higher powe rs and sensibilities, an<l thus make
mind mini ster to happiness.

I

.•.•.

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353

Shoulil we o-rnnt that intell ectual improvement. was unfavorable to pro·
d11ctio11 s of th~ imagination, then we should no longe r look for the best
works of that character among a civilized peo ple , but should seek them
among our native Indians, or the Tartars of Siberia. \ye shoult~ apply the
same mi es to individual s as to nations . Th e least cultivated mrnds woulJ
be the most ima"inati,,e.
\Ve s hould look to them for bolder flights than
0
to Milton, l'ope, or Byron; the absurdity of whid1 is seen by the _mere
statement of it, and the principle is unworthy of senous argument. History
as well as common sense refotes it. \Vho of those bards whose works are
as immortal as the spirits which produced them had n~t a cultivate~ mind 1
Which of the m did not find their ima g inative powers rncreased by rntelle.c t·
ual improveme nt f Tho11g h the age of Homer was a n age of comp~~ratt.\'e
darkness, yet th r. sun of literature must have shone on Greece, or the inspired fountains o f poetry would have been froze n up. He never would ha ve
sung of the hero ism of hi s countrymen had not the ir fee lings re ~po ndecl to
his. He neve r would have writ.I.en with that correct taste, whic h all succcccli11g poc ls have ddi g li1ed t.o· i111itaW? had 11ot rca r;on. already under her
control the wildn ess and cxl.ravagancc of the untutored n11nd.
Our own age_ beam a111ple testi111'.'")'. t.hat int;-llectual i111provcmen~ do~s
not d es troy genius to produce , nm: d11nm1sh desire to rea~ w?rks ':'f 11n ag 1·
nation · for there nP.vcr was a tune when so much fiction is wntten and
read as' at the present.. Poetry is no lunger the language of history and oratory, hut it is what it ought to be, the lang~ag e of imagination ~lothing in
its varioua dress human pa ss ions and affectwns. In proof of this we neeJ
· only refer to that giant minJ whose powers have been so successfully e mployed in the world of fiction, making an almost entire r~volution in _that
departm e nt of lite rature . He has shown th a t the boldest flights of the 1111agination are nut in the darkness of night, hut in the clear sunshine of da~;
that as c ivili za tion a<l\'ances, and the human minJ make s progress, so will
all its powers he s trengt hened, an d all its faculties be en larged . Scien.ce
ofiers to us new rea lm s, and the astronomer, as well as the poet, may p•c·
ture to himse lf worlds movin.g round in one harmonious whole far beyond
the reac h of mortal view.
Th e obscure and the uncertain may be necessary for a full exercise of the
imaginative power", hul of thiH there will always he enough until the whole
field of knowl edge is explored. In truth, with the advance of knowled ge
and science, mystery does not diminish. New wonders are continually un·
folclinrr 1he111selvcs, and, as the fi eld uf vi s ion is enlarged, other views are
presc 1~tcd; there s till remain s beyo nd the visible and the certain, the invis ible and mysterious.
1

LESSON LXXIV .

An Oration is a speech or discourse composed according to the
rules of oratory, and s poken in public; or, 1t mny be defined n popular
address on so 111 e i11teres l.i11 g and important subject. The te rm is 11ow
applied chiefly tn spPeches or discourses pronounced on special occasions, as a funeral oration, an oration on some anniversary, &c., and
to academic declamations.
The t er 111 oration is derived from the Latin oro, to beg or entreat,
and properly signifies that which is said by way of entreaty.
A speech is in general that which is addressed in a formal mann e r

30.

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rs ·-

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tr

~n

1!

AIDS TO

to one person or more. A harangue is a noisy, tumultuous speech, •
addressed t~ many; an oration is a sole 111n speech for any purpose.
An address rs any th ing spoken or written from one person or party
to anothPr.
A rf'gu lar oration consists of six parts, namely:
1. The exordiurn or introduction, wh ich is dt>.signed to gain the at·
tenti_on and good will of the hearers, and render them open to per·
suas ion.
2 . The stating or division of the subject, in which is expressed
what the object of the speaker is, or what he designs to prove or to
refute, what doctrine he intends to incu lcate, &c.
3. The narration or explication of facts or opinions connected with
the subject.
4. The reasoning or arguments.
5. The pathetic part in which an attempt is made to interest the
feelings of the hearers.
u. The conclusion, in which a gene ral review may be made of
what has been previously said; and the inforences drawn from the
arguments may be distinctly stated.
It is by no means necessary that all of these parts should be included in an oration. Much de pends on the nature of the eubject
and 'yliat. the ~p~aker has in view. Bu~ in lis_tening to a performanc~
of ~lus kmd, rt IS expected that the mmd will be informed, the reason mg powers exercised, the imagination excited, and the taste im·
proved. The subject should be one which requ ires a statement nnd
el_1~cidation of inte~esting fac_ts and principles; a course of calm, dig·
mhed, and pers uasive reasonmg . At the same time it should allow
of fine writing. There should be opportunity for des~ription and pa·
thos, for h istorical nnd classical allusions and illustrations and for
comprehensive and ennobling views. It should admit alsd of unity
of plan. The style should be elevated and elegant; the form of ex·
pression manly _and dignified, nnd at the same time characterized by
force and v1vac1ty. The ornament should be of a high kind,- such
as en nobles and exalts the subj ect. Diffuseness is likewise desirable.
MODEL I. OF AN ENGLISH ORATION,

Public Station.
One of the h"ppiest., ns well aH most useful, improvements which the
social_ R~~tcm has received,_sir~c~ the ea rli est congregation of savage lifo, i&
the divi•wn of labor. \Vl11le 1t 111s11rea to us the greatest profit at tl1e lca•l
cost, and enables the labor of each to contribute most effectually to the nd·
Yantage of the whole, it introduces among men s,uch a variety of classee

and conditions, - it parts out the business of life into so many and vnriou•
lots , as may satisfy each peculiar bias, imprinted by nature on the minds of
indivi<luals. The great world has many mansions. In one, there are the
looh.; of industry and the hrcafl uf r:arc; in anothct·, the insionia of power
- the diadem, the mi Ire, a11d a ll the aching luxury of th ro1H~s in a third, i~
hung up the unfading lanl'd of Lim Muse, wh ich, :rn "it pluck" all ga"c it~
way," Jets us not behold the cold neglect and slal'ving penury which too
often await it; - one looketh out upon the green field", with their blossoms,
I heir full ears, their bending branches ; a 11tl another looketh out upon the
hroad sea, with its ta ll ships ancl its cunning merchandise:- all these, and
many more, are wirle open before ns, a ud it n~quires but our own volitio11,

7

Lo

355

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

decide where we will e nter in and abide.

Among the manifold professions and employments of life, however, there ia

much el3e, he,idc natural bias, to influence a man's choice.

The unyielding

necessity of gai n i11g a fi,·clihood, hi1Hling upon most of m1, is ample security
that no ;,nc of !hem will he Jell vacant. Ind ustry, like wealth, will find its

own level. A deliciency in any of its chan11els will create a <lemand; and
self-interest will ever he at hand, to supply it. I3ut !,his is not all. \Ve
are all, more or less, the slaves of passion. The cold and calculating dictates of prudence are often overru led by the more specious and flauering
whispers of pr ide. The l"'lh of reason is too straight-forward and dull for
our eager a111bit ion. \Ve cannot bide to toil slowly up her steep and thorny
way, for t.he quiet posseos ion of scanty bread. The echoes of the silver
trumpet have reached our ear, and we sigh that it may sound out our own
name . The imperial purple has caugh1 our eye, and the plain vestments of
an honnraU le ~ufliciency seem too mean rind common for our wear !

Perhaps there is no prospect, which the imagination can present, so
nlluring lo the mind of a young man as that of public life. The mere fact
of he in,,. a 1hcrne of public interest, and of being exalted by the voice of
popular~ fovor to a sl.at io11 ah1Jve one'~ followR,- is of itf.;cclf u hoon, than
which, it would seem, the most ardent ambition could desire none greater.
But th ia is uut the beginning of good things - but the portal to the high
places of fame. It is in the exercise of this trust, that the fu ll harve"t of
glory is to he reaped . Our mind is to counsel, - our voice to direct,-our
arm to rrovern al l ; - the sce ptre of power is to be handled, - her royal
robes r~1t on - and wt are lo be the ga1,e of every eye. These are the.
rich privileges which our eager fancy holds out to us as the_ ~ewards of
office; and it is nol to be wondered at, that the coldest amb1tron should
kindlr. at 1hc 1•iew . lt is no longer a Alrnnge thing, that popular favor
should be courted and public station sought diligently after. It is man's
nature lo look upward- u ut aquila, crelum. ver.5us," - how then can he but
lo11g for this highest heaven of human glory~
But let us strip off the gi lded veil of fancy, and look in upon the condition
of office when the pomp and parade are over, and the robes are thrown
aside. And here, it were a superfluous task to inquire into the comparative
happiness and ease of public station. It ueeds not the eloquent philosophy
of the wronged Duke, to tell us, that a life of even undeservecJ exile is
sweeter for than that of painted pomp, - "the inhospitable woods more
free from peril than the envious court," - "the icy fang and churlish chiding of the wi nter's wind," more trusty counsellors than the fawning flattery
of conrt-sycophants. Nor need we the touching examples of \Volsey, o(
B11ckinght11n, of J\Iary, and all that host of •plendid misery which historl,
supplies, to warn us how sore and galling a burden is "too much honor. '
We have h"anl with our cars-our fathers have told us - many of us are
in the immediate, sad experi!'nce, that place and greatness, though fair
without, and fu ll of templation,-are , like the apples of Asphaltum, hut
ashes .to the taste; and when withdrawn from the excitements of bnsy life,
and left a lo11e to reflection, we are all ready enough to exclaim wi1h the
_poet," 'T is better to be Jowly born,
f\nd range with humble livers in content,
Thnn to he perked up in a glistering gr ief,
Or wenr n golden sorrow.''
!1111 thi" i< one of 1.lurnc firc s id" refleclionH which nrc apt to c~cnpn 119, in

the bust.le of out-of-door life . Va in hope with a ll its specious and mo•t
plansible cheats, bids us not take ttpon trust so sad a truth . Ambition,
which w e !3trive in .vain to" fling away," whi~pers us, that it is nobler to
birl e the worst, so honor he the stake. To serve one's country, is at least a
glorious mart_yrdorn, anti we are prond to suffer it. Were such the motive

of those who enler the lists of pnblic life, were honor conferred in exact
proportion to merit, an<l trust s<1uared with integrity, th is were a sentiment

,11

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worthy the ex tremes t limit of indulgence.
ha ve, -

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A nobler vocation no one cnn

a m ore g lori o us f:acrifice was ne \' e r made, -

compact," as a claim to supre macy .

357

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

than to to il and suffer

fo r the publi c good . Our cou ntry 's call , as it we re t he ''nice of Fate crying
out to us , should mak e" eac h petty a rtery in thi s body, as ha rdy as the
N e mcan lion 's nerve" ! But is it from pure and di si11tpr cstcd patriotisrn,
that so ma11 y arc da ily do thcd i11 the white rohc of ca nd ida cy 'f Ca11 we
pre tend , CVC ll in tl1i !::I land of" pro111i i; c, that publi c Ja o11o r s arc 11 CVC I' capri•
ciou sly , nay, are never unju stly bestowed '! \Ve ha ve not, ind.,cd , here,
that lo11 g line of titled aris tocracy,'' .~t ote -.\·tr1t ucs only ," whose ra11k, dating
from the cra<l lc, can Uc fuu11dcd, at 111us t, 011ly 0 11 a z;rcdrstinarian. es timate
1J f l"uture w orth!
\V e ac kno wledge ne ither" Divine ri ght, " nor " original

<I

--

-

.M uc h less need we fea r th a t the wise,

th e virtuous , and th e lea rned •lioul d be bani shed rro m our lan d, as from
Sparta of old, in very fea r lest, by the un restra ined exe rti on of the ir perniciQus weapons, they shonld work out. for themse lves a n ex travagant a 11rl clnngr.rous influe nce. The wi se , the learned, the good s taud here in deed their
c hance with the re st ; all! I it is a l riu111ph wo rthy all rcjoi c i11gs when they
strugg le into powe r. Hut how often do w e sec th o~e nob le 11at11re8, - who 1
ccckin g me rit rathe r th an fam e , would scorn to " flatt e r N e ptune for his
trid e nt , or Jove fo r hi s po wer to thund e r," - cheated o f the ir ri ghtfol inhc rit:rn ce o f glory! It cannot be de ni ed, thong h with sha me we cun fesd it~
that le arning, ge nins , and virtue will strive lii r popular fav or, hut. at fe arful
:111d perilous odd s, aga iu s t th e supple knee , the llalt.e ri11 g tongu e, llw criug·
i 11g !'10 111.

\V hat , 1h cn , is th ere in ofli cc for whi c h 111 e11 arc thu s eagerly striving 1
\Vha t is thi s hi ghes t pri ze of conte ntio n, in purwit of whic h, ha pp iness i•
cu 1111te d as nothing, ancl me rit is content to be pilte cl against hypocrisy and
intrigue 1 lt is CAI.Ll'.;D Power. There a re few IJl(Jre ludi c rous mi s tak e~ 1
which th is e rri ng wo rld ex hibi1 s , than th ose of a fa lse a nd o'erlea ping am·
bition. The redoubted Knight uf la Mancha, th ough nneq ualled in story, ie
not a lone in rea l li fo. \Ve may, a lm ost daily, be ho ld th e brazen basin of
the barbe r, born" proudly a long, in a ll its SMJ>Y lustre, as if 't were really
the golden he lmet of i\iambrino ! In most cou ntri es , we may see c rowds, .
a nd even in our ow n r1rnctical lnnd not a fow of those clabLle rH in the petli·
ncss of fame, who8c olli c: ia l i111p1J rl a 11 cc~ wou ld ~e r ve 011ly to re mind us o(
that prc ll y dev ice of /E sop,-a fly on the ax ! ~ or a c har iol, •!ri ving to
exclaim, "what a <lust do I raise !" The truth is , that in th e:::e times , nnd
espec ially in our ow n la11d , th e powr.r , whi c h oOi ce o f it self co n fer~, iR moel
• pccious and ' '""lowy. E\'c n i1nh c 0111 \Yori.I, li11l" e lse is retain ed, s11vo
thn na me , lhf~ Ahow, die ceremony of po we r. ]11 the mo st arhi1rary gov•
c rnm.,nls of 111111lern times, the popular focling is res pected and obe) cd ,
though it be not directly, a nd in terms , ap pealed to. But w ith us , the very
boa s t of our libe rty is, tha t the people a re supreme. Th ey indeed tlo dele·
ga te ce r ta in of their number, to manage for them the ir grea t esta te of sovereignty: - but this delcgatetl authority is divided off into so many branches,
and s o l~ 11tir c l y r.hcckc d liy the 11111l11al action of th ese brandies upo n ench
other, that the powe r of indivirhw l offi ce is a me re name all<l a shade. Onr
go,•c rn ors are in fact but public serva11ts - a mos t honurau le, ind eed , and
prai seworlhy service, but containin g so much more of burd en and cn re , than
of power, th a t. we mi ght a lruos t apply to the m the o ld Greek prover h," non e in Lh e land are so much slruies , ;rn its mast ers. "
llnt if publ.ic s tation do not aclually co1!fr.r powe r upon its pos,e•so r, it ·nl
least , afford s him th e mos t fav orable opport11n i1y for ga inin g it. Ir nOice be
no t g re atn ess , it , surPly, mus t be the hi g hes t vanlagP.-grou nd for achi evi ng
g reatness. It was the answe r of the De lphi c orac le to C icero , says Plutarch., when he inquired ho w he sl10uld a tta in lo t he hi g hest ea rthl y glory," by making his own genius, a nd not the will of the people, th e guide of hi1
life ." - T o enter into an elaborate di scuss ion of this great question, would

far exceed onr , pare an d stric t a ll owance of tim~ ; .but it ma y we ll be
douutcd, w he the r 1hat close s11hjec tiun to popuh1r wdl,, th a t ~ontra c ti:d
servitud e ln p:HI )', that 1111yie ldi11g bondage to public opm wn , which publi c
office rs rn11 ~ t 11 eces:::n rily und e rgo, _be not for, ve ry fi~r, from the pure and
perfoc l air of libe rt y , i 11 which gP1n11 s e xults and thr.1v es . It scPms, too, a
nohlc r, a:-' ,,." II a8 fr eer, ta ~ k tu promot e th e. 111c11tal 1111pru\' e11w11L, than the
phys il'.al welfa re ,_uf uur race, - to govern .1nrn~ls , than to .guvc 1:11 me_n:
I know 1ha1 hi stor y, an ho11 orahle mentwn 111 who se pc~ge~ I S pe1h.1ps the
protiil cf' t rc wanl w l1i ch mcH"tal merit ca n as11ire. toJ has l~1th c rlo d evote.~! he r
exclnsi,·c prai se 10 those who have led the arn11es or g~11d etl the cou 11c 1ls of
lheir natio ns.
It ha th now bee n 1he diary of pn11ces , a11t.I no w. the
u fi eld .l1ook of conqoerors," ;\11d full rarely hall_1 ev.e n the name of a 1~ nvate
man , hnwt>ver ~ rle ndid hi s ta le nt s or ex al1 ed l11 s virtues, been deemed. worth v or it " 11 0 1icP.. Il ut the libe rty, which ha s been he re wo~· k ed out, is not
co~nfincd lo 1.h e rnt~ re form and cere mony of govcrnmen1,-1t not on ly r~r­
v:ulcs tl w whol" at111oephcrc, hu t l"'"e lralc" the very li~c -hrcat. h, and pun hes
the V<' ry hea rt '" cor e of soc ie ty, - and we. may co 11f11l e ntly h ~1 pc, that the
Pree } fi ., torian of l •'ree Amen.ca , pampere d 111 no court, p e r~ s w1u.~<l

by

no

crown, w ill pe n with the gold e n pe n or Truth,-that ht'. !11 stury. may he,
as a ll hi ~ L n r y ought tn be, -phi_losophy, pure , ~ncomprom1 s 111 g µ~11l oso phy,
"teac hin g- by 1 ~xa 111pl cs,' ' - t~ hi story, \~• h e re e n.mes may he 111 e ntio~etl onl_y
to be co 111h~ 11111ed, - wlu•re v1r1.m~ ,. ge nm~ , 111c nt, may s tand out,, ": their
own 1111 1i 1di1 w l wa11 1y, d u~ :11l1111ra1w11 a nd th e model of the wo1ld. We
W1Juld 110 1, i ~d t ~ t · d , ,·viL11li old 1l1< ~ir merited tribute o_f prai se '. Lhc ir: proud
recompe nse of g lo ry, fro m Ili c" patriots w ho ha \'e to ile d anJ 1n the ir country's cause b led nobly." The sweet lyre , the sculptured marble , "'."'·"
have th e ir 11 a1 11 es in holy k ee ping! But theY. are not .al~11 e patrwt s. 1 hi s
prom! title ur patriQti•m is no narr ow dist111 c t~ o n of birth or of forl~n~.
Whoeve r pro111 0 1 e~, or labors to promo!? , the 1~te r es t a nd we lf a re of .l11s
country, be hi s means neve r so sma ll, hi s vocatwn never so humble, is a
patr iot . Th ey are pa tri ots wh" ohcy and defe nd, as we ll as th ey who
mak e, th e laws. They arc patri.,l s, who stnve, as they a rea lil.e, lo adva11ce
in the Janel, the great cause of re li g ion, of ju •~ i ce , of puhhc 11nproveme nt.
Eve ry rrood 111 a 11 is a 7u1trifJ l / They were patriou~, who se. rnuucs slwll ~1 c 1 ~ ­
nfter IJ ~ llH '. llt io11 ctf , :t S th e fo1111d el'S a nd IJencfac lorS of tl.11 8 \'l' ll Cl'<llJlc IH !:! lltulion . ]le"' is a l'"lriot and wonhy a patriot's pra1s.e , wh~1sc wonted
pre,c 11 ce at ;he head of our University , on thi s hi gh .fest iva l ol le.ti ers'. we
ma y 11 0 lon <>cr look for. If the ynuth of our land be its hope a nd 1ls p1 omise, as th c i~ fathl'r S arc it s slrnng1h allll its. ~npporli-slll'ely he shall h:"'.e
rend ered a goodly a nd an . a ccq1talile sc rv1 c~ to 111s count ry, who . by l11s
dili gence, hi 8 in s tru d ion ~ , l11 s exa mple , has tr ame<l up so many to. het duties
and he r honor . \ Ve would )'i elcl hi m, the n, the glory of n J>atriot, as we ll
as the a ffect iona te thank s u r gra teful hearts , fo r a ll that he has duu e a nd
suff1 ~ r e cl in the ca u:;:e of ed uca tion.
Hi s is a g lo ry," cui neque P_rojwt qu.zsquam lmulandn, 1/f''J'U'. 1i;t uprr rwdo ']11.is'JUflm ?FJ~ uit." ~ay he live long, to
see thi s ancicul al111de of z;;c ic ucc, -the fnllll ol1JCCl of l11s care a11d l ove, ~
incren scd j 11 u sc f11 1 11 e~~ ~111 d pow e r ; sta ndi ng, i11 a ll .th e ~t re n gt h of s<;' un<l wisdom, in all the maj es ty of virtue, in a ll the bea uty of holmes.s , a bl ess 111 g lo the
children, ancl a n honor to the fath Prs of our land; a nd on its bnghtest laule t
of rcr.:o rd, nm nng it ~ b~st dr. fondcr A, ~hall /u s n:~m c and h 1~ ] )rmse Uc eve r
in ~crihcd. J\la y hi s Y"ars to cu 111e I.Jc foll of co111 l'.11·t, and h1 R <'11d- peace !
' It is one o f the p1•c 1ili a r foa lun!S o f our republican govcr 11111e 11t, that th e
doors ur ul'ii<:e - whi ch ha ve hith e rto bee n rarely e ntered , I.Jut by t hose
who co nld prn:lu ce t he pass port s or hi gh b irth 01' pri.nce ly palronage, are here th ro \\'11 open tu a ll . The natural conseque nce JS, that a ll a re eager
*D r. Kirk lan d , who h ad recently retired from the University.

-~

FF'?S&

358

AIDS TO

to rn sh in . Imag ination has pictured to us thi s exclus ive abod e, abunclant
in a ll th e l11 x11ry and sple ndor of Orie ntal mag nifi cence; a nd the prince o(
AhJ ss i11ia fe lt not more longi ngs, -and, I venture to say, tried not mare
expedients , to gain a knowledge and a vie w o f the oute r world of man, than
w e to ga in ad mi ttan ce into this f;n,orr.cl pa la ce of the B ies!. 'vVe clo not
fear, with the cnemi l'R of libe rty , that thi ~ "po liti cal a111hi tiu11" will alway1
prove a cank e r i11 th e h e art ~ , or e nge nde r corrupti o n i11 th e mi nds o f our
peopl e, - warrin g again st the interests of literature a nd bring in g down upon
us ci t.h Pr I.he darkn ess of anarchy or the more g loomy lig-ht of dc,poti•m.
\Ve 11 e i1h er fo ci , nor feign, any s uch idle a ppre he ns ions . \Ve h;ne seen the
flo od- ga les o f ocean sudd enly unbarred, ancl tho ugh the da s hing wares
lea ped ne1·er so viole ntly in devouring all they met , - it was but for a mome nt ; - th e wate rs fl owed agai n i11to thei r c hanne l, and th e sea was
s till. B nt th ough thi s te mpora ry evi l will ultimate ly be it s own c ure, it is
w e ll tha t all mea ns should be employed to dimini sh its imm ediate violence.
~rhe s to rm has not yet ceased- we ma)' , C\'e n nnw, see i1 , in all tlw s trength
o f i ts ra ge, fearfully ag ita ting ou r land. The hol y ark of our libe rties i~,
eve n nu ,v, tossed on its ang ry boso m! It is t i111 c tha t me n's eyes were
ope 11 cd to reaso n. It i" ti111 e that they looked upo n ofli cc , as it re ally i~ ;
lik e th e oth e r prufeso ions of li fe, a place of honora ble labo r ; co nferring on

its po~sessor no aUso lul.e supe riority, - no excl us i ve pri v ilc~e , - no peculiar
blessedn ess; - an e le\' ation, where one 's failin gR, as we ll as cxcc lle nce!!I,
arc di ~ pla y c d l o a d : rn gc n111 ~ advant;i gc. \Ve wo uld re nde r l o 1h e rule rs and

land all the respec t and ho111agc th at ar c their due; but
we will not yi e ld up lo the m, the s ole possess ir>11 of that power -the only
Jl !>W CI' wo rth hav ing the highest power of man - a po we r, whi ch angels,
from a ll the ir g lory, mi ght s toop to e njoy - the power of doing good to mankind-of se rvin g o ne's country- of improvin g our race -of e nn obling
our age ! 1'his is the po we r whi ch a ll may possess - whi c h re<iuires no
pass port, but of H ea1·e n. This is the promot ion w hich "come th ne ither
fro m th e Eas t, from the ~V es t, nor yet from the So uth ." .Mind as ks not the
se al of o fli cc, for a sa nctio n of its d ic ta tes," nee ~·umit aut ponit secures nr..
bitrio p opular£s aurm ." Its co urse will o n, th e way it ta k e~ ," cracki ng ten
th ou:;::rnJ curbs of more strong link asu nde r," th an the sle nder impedimen ts
of ;i rtifi cial soc iety. It will S]Jeak out , whereve r it ex ist8, in tones , than
whi c h, God's thunder is nut more audible !
To thi s pow e r a nd this grea tness le t us as pire . L e t the erl ucat ion anrl
improve me nt of mind, be the first object of our ambiti on . Lr.t not the grea t
lian•c.s t ,,f our lite rature' lie longer mircapcd . Our diz·1.y monntain -pcaks 0111· g- rce 11 hills - our fon ilc valf! s - our tl1111ulcri11g f'ata racts - 0 11r pleasant
st rc a111 s were never made for scaled lips. Ou r firm ha11d s, onr brav e heartR,
our bri g ht eyes , though eloquen t in silence, deserve not a mute lyre. The
fair brow of Liberty loo ks ba ld and na k ed without the lau rel of the Muse !
COll ll se llurs o f Olli'

.I
I

~'I

l\IODEL II.

I

I

The Utilitarian System.
"Cui llono. "

The spirit of the present strongly demands the "-"f1tl i11 a ll its ohject~ of
pursuit ; th e r e: iR li11.lc r ca so11 to fear that 111 c 11 will neg l1 ~c t their int c rcs tR, ~o
hr as the ir j11dg 111e nt e nables them to pe rc!' ive thc 111 ; for littl e occupies
ge nera l att enLi ou tha t docs nut return some plausihlc a 11 ~wc r to the questi on,
" Of wlrnt use is it'! what aclrantag e ari~es from it 1" 'l'he wild visions
co njured up by th e hea ted imag inations o f o the r tim es , are all \•iewerl
thro ug h thi s co rrect ing medium, and • tripped of a ll th e ir bright ancl deceptive co lors, are s tamped with that value onl y to whi c h the ir utility entitles
the m . The lan ce of ch i\'alry rus ts in o bscm·ity and neg lec t, while the plough-

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

359

share is hri ght with honorable use; the vener~ble castle, moss-covered au~
shatte red hy the s torms of a thousand yea rs, 1s ? f sm_all conseque nce, as 1t
stands bes id e the smart, new-built manufactory , its 11e 1gh bo u~, whence some
of the co nve ni e nces and comforts of li fe are consta ntly flow mg ; the mountai n, t ho ug h it be the hi ghest pea k of the A Ip•, ?r Andes, cloud-capt, and
flli ow cro wn ed towc ri11 " s11Uli111c ove r the (lumam s benea th, the theme of
poet~, a nd th e .'cs tin g -pl ~ce of th e ~magina ti o n , is thought little o.r in comparIRo n with th e dark and g loomy m111e at its Ua se , wh e nce me drawn the ote
for manuf:1cture, or the coal with whi c h it is pre pared.
.
All things a re estimated, not al the pri ce se t _upon ~h e m by the ?l11lclr~n
of poe try and r om a nce, but ac.c•_.>1"di11 q to th e ir 1111~n e~lrn te suU~e1:v1ency rn
rend e ring com fo rt a ble the co'?d1t1on o f the grea t '?'"JOrtly ~f ma11k, ~nd. _A nc~
shall a ny o ne say th a t there 1s not much true philosophy _111 thi s_rn lua_t1 on .
Shall any one s igh over the tende ncy _of the age to loo k with a cl1spa ss wna_te
eye on th ose wild schemes a nd fal "e idea s of honor a nd g reatness wl11 ch 111
form e r tim es caused such~ wa ste of huma n lifo a nd means 1 S hall an y one
for thi s de no un ce t he tim r.s as forget ful of a ll that constitutes exce ll e nce or
happin es• 1 S hall it be said that thi s SJ>irit 11ecessar ily_ s mothcrn all the
nobler part s o f man 's nature, a u<l red uces 1111!1 to a mere pa111s -t:1k111g? mo11ey ..
gettin g a nim a l 1 Th at_it i'! incapable of be 111g turned a nd g111~l ed rnto _any
good c ourse , and of form111 g the groundwork of a ~etter et,1te of tl11n gs
tha n th e world has ever ye t seen 1 S uch desponcl111g m 1nds, - s uch proph7ts
of ev il , 11111R t have got the ir id eas of the Stt1n~um bmium fr om t~l es of c ~11v­
alry a11d ro111a11cc, from the Urea rns a nd l on~ in gs of a heated 11n a~ 11m~10n,
from a ny thin g, in fac t, rather th a n a enmpa n son of the Fources _oflrnppme ss
in the prese nt a nd a ny f':'rmer time . S lw_ultl such an .examrnalton be made,
that whi c h a ppea rs so bnght and e n c han~1ng when ~1ew e d_ f1_om a dista nce,
will ha rdly bear a close ins pection. Stnp these bnght \' ISIO~• -~ f all _ihe
rndiance thrown aro und them hy the c ha rms of nn e lega nt lite1a tm e, ,1nd
how meag re do they s tand be for e u,,_ in a ll the ha rsh outl111e of a rude and
unpoli shed nature; the violeut P'.•ss 1ons and ha rsh 11n pul ses of 1~ e n _ sta nd
forth, di"este cl of that eofte n1ng 1111lu e 1~ce thrown _upon the m by a 1efin ed
ci vilizati on. The courage of the war rwr will shnnk to th e l ~ v e l ':'f ''?ere
animal vi ole nce; th e beauty of the lad ies will pa ll upon th e. 1111ag 111a t1 on ,
when it is co ns ide red how uninte res ting mus t h'_tve bee n thc 11: minds from
the want of a ll those graces a11d re fin crncnt s, wl11 ch a more e11l1 ghtt:!" "I a ge
only c11 n imp a rt ; while throughout all. classes, the powe rs of ~h e 111 tcllc:ct
were but impe r fec tly develo ped, ancl g ive us no \'ery e ~altc d 1<lca of 111.ln
encl hi s po we rs. L e t these thini;s he hut 0 !1cc thought of 111 s11 ch an ahstrac t
wav sepa ra ted from all th e bright as•oc:ia lwna tl~aL :ire 11 ~11 a ll y w o un ~I abo11t
th e·n; , a nd the most e nll111 s ia•t ic au 111irc r of ant1q111ly will hardly w1_s h that
hi s lot had bee n cas t in any of th ose pe ri od• tha t once see rnecl so de ltghtfu!·
But th o ugh the prese nt e•timale of utility he on the wh ole. so corr e~ t, 1s
there nothing in it tha t may be cause of d1 •gust to those of_de lt cate feel111gs,
and at the same time injurious to our truest, best-d efir_md interes ts 1 None
lmt th e m ost 1111hrs itati11g, u11di sc rimi11ati11 g pa n ~gyri s t wou ld attempt to
deny it. Jn their e nd eavo urs to r educe every tl~111 g lo the s tanda rd ?f the
usei'ul , many have ove rs te pped the limit. In thr. 11: zea l tu d? away with .all
old fo lli es th ev cast off wi t h them so me of th ose virtues, whi ch a re peculia r
to no ao-e 'o r si'ate of ~wc i ety, hu t whose seat iB deep in the _human h~art,
and wh~:m free exer c ise is ii11li s pc 11 ~able t.o the pr0Fpcro11s co nt11111an ce o.f any
stntc or order of thiu gs; cu1111 ccti11 g t hc'>C w.ith the r.cally ~v nrth_l css n."Jc•~ts ,
with wh ic h th ey a re SIJ ofie n a ">oc iat cd, w 11h t he 1ntc nt1 on ol c rach ca trng
all th e nse le,;s weeds fr om th e soi l of h111m111ity , they ruthless ly tear np so rne of
the mos t bea ut iful fl owers in th e garde ns of the hea rt ~ they cru sh tho se
buds that would ex pand , and blosso tu , and bear_good fr~11t; tha_t would exnit a 111 J purify, a nd refine life, and go far to realize mans 11nag111ed perfections.

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,II

360

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

\Ve ma y see some s ig ns of such a spirit in that t one of s uperi or wisdom,'
tha t wo nld re press a ll the out brea k mg; o f e 11 t hus ia s111, a nd d amp the a rdor
o f th e g rateful he art.in its admiration of the l1eantifu! a nd nol.Jle , with a &Ar•
cas ti c a nd tie lf-co nce n e<l ma nne r of a sking Lhe quesuo n, \\' ha t u5c f And

' Is th a t fe e ling useless whi c h e ntwines a love of hi s native land with
every fibre o f a man 's heart 1 \Vhi c h m a k es him look npon he r m o 11nla~n s
and pJa in.s, he r rive r s n nd lak es, o r he r r oc k.bo und, !3Ca·w as h e d coa s t, with
en i11dcscrilial.Jl e , and almos l. ""l'e rs t it io11H \'c 11 e rati on 1 S hall. all those as 1ociati ons whi c h 111 :1k c a man look 11po 11 hi s co untr y a s ~0 1111~ tlim g more tlinn
10 mu c h laud i11h ;1hi1 ed hy s o 111a11)' propri e tor ~ , whom r:unr c11ic 11 cc has le d
to form th e lll se lvcs i111 0 a n o rg ani zed , p o li t ica l b ody , be la ug he d a t, as the
relic o f a bygone, La rLa r o us a ge; a s too roman tic to he indul ged e ve n for a
mome nt 1 ~ hall 1hal c 11tl111 eia s rn whi c h lea d s 1he 1rave ll cr , wea ry of wa11de rin rr, a nd lo 11gi 11 g fur home, 0 11 be ho ldin g 1he rock s a nd cliffs of h is na li \'e
shore~ to exc laim with rnpt.t.irous juy,-' ' Thi s is my own, my nati ve land ,"
- be ricJi c11l ecl as lh e ex press io n o f no thi ng but a ma\\' ki sh , a 11 d fal se se 11 ~ j ..
bility1 On t he c ontrary , is no t snch a fee ling the fotmdati o n o f that t rue a nd
real patriotis m, w hi c h m a k es a m a ll la y d ow n wea Ith a nd co m fo rt , n nd pour
forth l.Jlood lik e w a te r for hi s country's good 1 lb s it no t 1.Jecn th e :dl-p c rm<ling se n t im e nt in th ose 111ar1 yr : : and patri o ts who m hi sto ry a11 ~ l fi ct io n
equa ll y d e li g ht in ho norin g 1 S ho uld w e ma k e The rm opy l;B a11d .J\l ar a 1h ~ 11
(amiliar a s ho11sc lio ld w o nh~ , had th e re not bee n so me s tro nger 1111 p 11l sc rn
the brea sts o f th e he roes who fou g ht th ere th an th e m e re des ire lo save
their la u ds a11d pro pe rt y fr om lrnjus t s po liati o n 1 . Inte r est , o r fi c ti o n , ma_y,
for a ti111 c, exc it e llH' ll tu ac ti o n in be half o f th e ir countr y ; but, to a ro u ~e
' the und y ing llamc of patri ~) ti s m, , ~o mt1k ~ ,,suc h l o~ers. o f th e ir country ns
time ha s s li o w11 , th e "cant.as 1ps m s su li,
the dm g in g to a ll th e xna rk s
written in 111c 11w ry by a fTect io n, the sce11e8 of o ur youth , the mo num e nt s and
undyi11 g hi s to ry of our a ncesto rs, o u~· hearth stone• , a nd o bj ects o f d ~ m es l ic
affectio n, mu s t a ll wo rk toge the r 111 a mann e r none th e_ less e ll ec tn·e, b~ ·
cause it ca nno t be re duced to the cold and exact rules of sta tes me n or plulosophers.
·
l s th at Joye useless \\' hi c h exa lts so hi gh in rna n's j m1g11i c 11t !he wur lh ()f
the fairer, !:>O ft.C' r port ion of hi s r ace ; th a l lakes away s o 111 ucli o f tli c ha r!"li
and Jow fro m hi s c hara c te r, and 111akcs hi111 r:::ce eve ry th i n ~ in a " ·arm t: r,
purer li g ht.
Or are :~ n~' o f th o~c l~ lh er lc n ~ e.r feel ! n~·s . wli i~·li p t i r i l~v l1i s
charac te r a11d 111 a ke h1111 some what lik e the <l 1r rn e o ri g 111 <d 1 l'.q nall y lw.r s h
- and fa lse 'i s t hat estimate th a t wo ul d s a ys so ; 't'd1i cli wo u ld d ir c~ t life o f ~u
much th at softr n s it s ha rd :lll d ru gged t r:H· k ; w h i<' h w<111 ld :' top n ll th o~c
founta in s g us hin g fr esh fr o m the hea rt, w hi c h swcr t(' n a 11d rpii c k c n the ot herwise ins ipid and s lue-g is h co urse of du t ies and labor s . Aud ye t i:; ucl1 a
di ~ pt1 s it ii_111 j,.. h11 1 l oo 1~1~1111111111 ; ii 1..~ ar :" with int~ re dulity of th e existe nce ur
\'irtuous e 11 Li 1us ias 111. o r a r dc n l lu \e; ur, ii" il ~ ..u111 ut duuLt tL ~; , c.-...i -'> iciiu:, .
it Bhow::; ils cu n tcmP t f1t l" th e m Uy a freez ing i11tc n og:1 t 0 ry ~~ to th eir <Hh <rn lage ; it w o ul d co nfi ne a ll s uc h r o ma nti c feeli ngs to t he p;1ge s o f th e poe t o r
noveli st wh o, it t hink s , fir st gave the m birth , and insis ts , tha t, ho we ver w e ll
they may J o to " po int a mora l, or a dorn a tal e," they will n evtr do in rea l

if th e 0 lij•~ c t of Llii s harsh ri1.li c11lc

Ii

361

AIDS TO

ca1111ol i; l~o\\' s<;>11ie direc t . a11d vit-1 iblc ~p~·

ration o f the ide: rn and H e11 t 1111 c 111 ~ lie :11l1111rcH, 1t w n r11 8 111111 lo h(! adv1 ..0J
by ex pcri e 11 ee, and to ha v? done wit~1 all :mch fo~) li :.; h a11cl ro111a11ti c ~1 u li o nB,
whi c h will 011ly irnpc dc 111s 8ucces:dul p rogre:;s 111 th e w u rld; that 1s , drop
all tha t diar ac t e riz t~S th e m t~n o f focli11 g_ ai~J sentime nt, and r ~ tain nothing
hut th e m os t c:s te c 111 c d ma x 1111s o f a !' c ll-w1 ~c a nd se lfi s h ex pe n cm:e. Such
a s pirit w o uld look up on thi s fair _e arlh me.rely a 8 o n ~ g reat farm, !ntendcd
011 1.Y t u maintain its numberless d c 111z~ 11 s by Hs pro ~lu c t1v c powe rs; .1l w o ~ld
grudge eve r y a cre no t d e voted lo. tl11s purpose,; It w o ulJ luu k. with an In·
vidi 11t1s eye up o n la k es. a 11d mu1111l<1 ~11 ::: ;1K_~ se l es s rnc un.1l>ra11 cc s; Ill th~ plcasanL Jig·ht u f he a ve n, a nd the _l> luwrn g o f _ll.s breezes, It w o uld rec~ 1 g 111 ze onl.Y
th e m e ans to prom o te vegetatw11, a ud bnug t he harveis t lo matun t.y ; m en 1t
w o uld r eg ard a s m r. rc instrunu.•nt:; in th ese g re a.t o pcn1ti o 11 s; _a 8. liound lo
th e ir co u11try, a nd to each othe r , Uy no 8lro11 gcr ti es , 11 0 l1c tte r f cd 111 g~ , t.h:m
a low a 1HJ Sf-dfi ~ h i11te res t ; to it all el se see 111s supe rt1Lw11s ; all 1h c g lort ou!I
and lie a11tif11l , and a ll the touc hiu g and 1le li cate o f th e 11:1lllral and moral
w o rld, arc unv a lue d and un cared fur . Tho ugh thi s !'alsc cs ti111atc Uc ?ut t_nu
c o 11rn1 u 11 , th e 111i11d t ha t ha s not het ~ ll s uhj <'c l.cd tu ll, 11111Ht l'e \' o lt at its di e ..
t&.t cs . \Vha l ! must all the re fr eshing ga rd c 11 s a nd plea sanl wa lkf-:1 of lifi.· Lie
13 hut , all its d cli glitful prospec ts uU:; tru c leJ, a nd :ill . the g_us hin g s trc a111s uf
the h eart Uc sc~ l e d up 1 Could any 011e urge tin s rn se riuus a r g ume nt, 110
m o r e c:unc ise :\ll <l a ppro pri a le a11s we r co uld li e g i\·e n him , th a 11 th e t_ lcc isiun
of th e C r ea to r him self upon the w ork s of hi s hand, -tha t they a re good , t1 i1
good .
llut tu s uc h co nte rn ne rs of a ll that son rs abo\'e the ir ow n li m it (' d vi ~in n,
the us~ of a r g 11in e 11t see m s altoge1\ie r t-m pt:rfluo11R; the re a rc cc rl •~in e pi_thct11
to w hi c h 11 0 Ucfinitc rnea11i11g is aua cl1cd, IJut "hi c h , wh e n a ppli ed with n
cPrtai11 ma1111 c r of s arca s m , o r rit1ic nll'4 du m o r e to injure th e ir o b_ic ct, than
the m os t <l i r ec l a nJ se \" e rc cr i111i11at io1 1 : th e re is a \'a g uc ncss ali uut them
thal 11 1\·es the ima 1r i11a tion r oo m to ,.c onjure up a tiio usa 11d IJad tiua liLi t'!!i , an J
a ppl)~ t hc 1n lo w h:~lc ve r is th e rn l.1jC'c l of olil oq11y. 01: 1hi s na111rc is. !h e e pithe t rvmont ic, so freq ue nt ly a nd 111 d 1 ~c r1111111 a tcly a ppli ed t o all Ll1c 1 111p11\ ~e ~ ·
whi c h fill the b rea8 ts of those wh o ha ve not lost all th e war1111h and ge ne ros·
ity gi ve n t li P. 111 hy 11al11 rP; who a re exc ~ te d w ith a no b le a r do r_a t the 111 cn tio11 o f g rea t ex amples o i" viriu c 01. l1 c101:-ua ; wl 1u cau ::.l;t: : 1 ~1i l fed _:.he ;.;uh.
lim e au d bea u ti ful i11 11a tur c, a nd 111 che1 raclc r ; who can k 111 d lc wllh lu\·r.,
swell w ith pity, o r w ee p i11 l)11 11pa tli )' \,·ith anotlu·r's woes : th ey ar c told
that all these thin "s will n ot do in the world; tha t th ey are o nly fuund in silly
no ve ls ; in fa ct, tl~at they a re a llugct he r loo rom a nt ic. The te nd ency of thi•
spirit is t u mak e th e yo un g d i ~ tn1 s L tlie ir U ~\· 11 .fee lin gs , ~rnd :~n x i_o u ~ t o s uppr~ sa
e ve ry .word and a e ti o n that 1111 g ht co111c w1th111 th e r ea c h n f 1h1 s lar- :s~vr.c prng
ro111a11lie ; r c~ tra int. am! affec ted i11dilk re11cc bccu 111 c lJttt too fa s h1n1rnble ,
e ve 11 a n w ng t h use who a re fun11 ed fo r bette r thin~s ; th e ir ICu e rs , earl y a11J
Jo n g-wo n .1, al l (~ n g th cea se to ~ al. I , and th~ 1nan ?t a o n ~e wa n11 , he_arl , and
s tro ng a fl ect io11s , becomes a fr1 g 1d a11 d . u11.1 m pa ss 10n ~ d ~lu ng , wh ose 1111p11lsu
a re a ll o f th e low est., co111mu11 e~ t. t.l.-:sc r1pll u 11 . B11l Jt; 1t n;(l l/y so? I~ tliure
1111 y dall g't: I" i11 giving way lo an y ol' 1.l1u ~-a: c ~ 111ul. i11n ~ wlii d 1 an: ~o t:11d111nli11g
in the page "f poetry or ro11i:1111:e 't Arc !he y re ally i11c u1J1patil1lc with tho•O
necc::;isary cJuti cH whi c h are a llotted to mof!: t 111c11 iu th n co111t11011 rouliu c of
li fe and occupati o n 1 Must we ri s k all those 1.Jright vi s io 11s o f life , e n·
live ne d and e nnol.Jled l.Jy the cxc r c i ~e of those fin er fee lin gs w e lo' 'e so lo
dw e ll up un 1 Jn lin e, a re they all of 110 use ? L e t the a nx ious inquirer
lo uk aroun d , and ma rk the ope rntio 11 of some of those sentiments so ha rohly
conde mne d a s romantic and useless.

~f;·f such

we re rr.a l life, if n one o f the holi es t a nd hcsl aOi!r.li nns co11ld lie
indulged with sa fo ty, we ll mi g ht th e g loo my views o f those I.Jc e11 le r1.ain cd,
who look upon the pl easant w o rl d a s a success io n o f e mpty r~othing" , and
· , all om· boas te d impro ve me nts and a d ..a nceme nls a s only te ndrn g to re nde r
them li ghte r a nrl m ore e mpty, and to remove us farth e r fro m all tha t ma k es
~fo worth th" ha viug.
. Such ll foclin" of cli "conte nt, a" it i" pal'licularly 1tpl to se ize upon mind"
most J cl icale l/ tun cd by na ture, rnusl hm•c an injurious effect upo n tire nge,
which has b een r e presented a s, on the who le , •o discriminating a s to what
i1 truly good and useful; since it withdraws from exe rting a h ealthful infln-.
ence those w hose na tural imp ulses w ould ca use them t o p ro m ote its b es t
interests ; but, di sguste d 1.Jy the false , utilitarian spirit just dwe lt upon, the ir·
minds sink into a m orl.Jid a nd r e pining sta le , which questi ons if there be

31

362

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

any thing pleasant, or excellent, co ntcnt.s itse lf with railing at a~ around,

What is a throne 1 ' .Y ha t is a leg isla ture 1 Whal is a Congress 1 What

i!I

and nur s in g its ow n mi sa nthropi c fee lin gs.

I
' I
I

How, then, shall we answer tha t colJ and sarcast ic temper, which, in all
the co11fiJe 11ce of super ior wi sdom, thi11ks lo crush a ll th e generous impul1e1
of a n ardent nature, the as pirati ons of ge ni us, or the buddings of a n un•
feign ed lov e, or strong altaclnncnl, liy a with ering manner of aski ng the
question, Of what Uo>e are all these? \.Ye might a11 s we r with another que..
t io n; O f what use is the plea sa nt li ght uf the ;un 1 For, not more groping,
cold, a nd me lancholy, would be a n eternal, sunless night, than life without
one ray of those wann er feelings to illumine its dark a nd tortuous palh1,
to gi ld the points of a ll the stern e r, harsher duti es, and cast a warm flu sh of
ha pp iness over all its varying scenes. We might te ll them, tha~ , banish these,
a nd the world would be a desert of so harsh and un interestmg an as pect,
th at the most s toical patience r.ou lrl not endu re it long ; a nd, if thei r unsym·
pathi zing minds coul1l not comprehcml how this mi ght be, we might tell them
that to the ICdi ngs they so much despise they a rc indebted for the continu•
a nce of tha t sla te of thin gs whi c h appears to th em so profitable and excel·
lent. Thal they are the great corner-s tones 01i w hi ch soc iety is founded,
the bonds th at ma intain its uni on ; that, but fo r some of the enthusiasm they
so much condemn, ci \ ili 1.a ti on wou ld long since ha\'e stopped in its progre!!,
1

the arts and knowledge wou ld have remained undevelo ped, a nd a ll that tend1
to exa lt a nd refine man's cond ition would s till have s lumbe red. If they
cannot be induced by thi s to acknowledge that the re a rc a ny ot hers but thei r
own heate 11 hi ghways o f lifC, they 111ust re ma in in ig nora uce of a ll its better
part, forfeit a ll the enjoyments which accrue to those who can ri gh!ly csti·
mate its blessings, n m] pl od on in the way they have chose n fo r thcmsc lve• ;
- while , to thooe who have an un d imme d percep ti on o f the good a nd lovely,
li fe spreads it se lf oul like a verdant Ouwery fi e ld , its paths en livened hy the
bordering green, th e ge mmi ng dewdrop• not ye t da shed from its llowerct• 1
and a ll beyond a vi sta of gladness a nd beauty. Happy th ose who choose
thi s better portion, a ud enjoy th at real life whic h those only can hav~, who,
in a ll their est im ates of use, are guideJ by that true philosophy, whi ch , while
it hastens the step of improvement, does not prevent the cooperat ion of our
best na tu re !
MODEL Ill.
FIRST DEGREE.

Pulilic Opinion.
On the rc tnrn of this ancient a 11nivc 1·sary, on this a cade mi cal jubilee,
which borrows all its lu stre fr om the counte nan ce of a great co rnrn1111ity, I
am naturally led lo the con templati on o f the power of a commu uity . It i1
publi c favor which has raised a humble gram mar schoo l into the greate1t
co ll eg iate eo la bli shme nt iu 'our la nJ. And we who are come up this <lay to
1na ke o ur las t obe isance to o ur venerable pa rent , ca nn ot consi<le r withoul

inter est that power out of which she sprang, a nd th a t powe r upon whose
character our ow n fo rtunes must so much depe nd.
'
But the grow th of a literary "em ina ry is but an exhib iti on in miniature of
tha t force of which l s peak . Compared with some o f its g rea ter manifcstati onR, it iR th e applicalio11 of Lite force of ~1ea 111 to Lh c c11U i 11g of dia1110111l1,
or the c nclrn sin g of plate. It is un the •pac iou s "ta gc uf hi story , where
ages are the time, and na ti ons the actors , that l find the jus t exam ples of the
power of puhlic opinion emblazoned. \V hat is th e g reat lesson we learn
from the records of our race 1 What but thi s 1 That the tr ue sovereign of
th e world, the only monarch who is 11 eve r de posed, a nd 11e\'er abri dged of
··
hi s pre roga tive,
" Who sits on no precario us throne,
Nor borrows len ve to be,"

is Public Opinion.

363

.

a co11Rti 111 t. ion 1

I\'l c re pipe~, mer e month-pieces, for the expre~sion of

Public Op ini on. Th e mome nt t hey cease to g ive it \'e nt, the moment they
resist and sc l up for ori g ina l pow e r8, it breaks in p ieces these ' ·encrab le
form s, as Daniel hroke the gi lded ima ge;; of Babyloni sh id olatry , and holds
up the fragm e nts befo re the startled nations, with the same drea<lful iro ny ,
-"Lo, these he the gods ye worship ! "
One would think, fr om what has some times been adva nced, on great au·
thority, t hat Publi c Opin ion was a new power. I am co nfiden t. tha t it is a
mistak e. Pub li c Op ini on is no new creatio n, no stra nger in the world, no
child of its old age . It has mingled in the public affa irs s in ce man first
exchanged hi s cave in the woods fo r the arts an d a lli ances of c ivili zed life.
Born in the prime,•a l conven tions of uncouth savages, it• infant fingers trace
that soc ial con tract lo w hi ch the proud mona r chi es of the Old \Vorld are nut
asham ed to go back for the fiih11l ous cha rte r of the ir legitimacy. And from
that ho11r it ha s go11e ahoul a 111 ong the k ing<loms of the earth, worki11g its
pleasure , whether for good or fo r ev il. You may track its li on s te p acro~s
the Syrian sands, when It led the fan a tic hosts of C hri ste ndom to pour ou t
their lihat.io ns of blood, and sacr ifice their hmna n heca tombs, in pious worship of the Prince of Peace . Or you may fi nd its h a ndiwork in modern
_ Englan d, when it s poiled of it s cro wn the unworthy successor of a line of
' kings ; wa shed away hi s balm, an d laid hi s head upon the block ; turned
· loose an incensed people to hunt down th e remnant of that old house o f
. tyran ts, and purge the reu lm of the ir unclean inf1uence. But, hy aud by, as
if in very wantonness, reverting to its a nci ent faith and affection!?, it recalls
the fu gi tive prin ces from thei r ex ile , a11d rebui lds the rl)·1iasty it had Ol'er turned.
But, if the will of the peo pl e has a lways bee11 the sovereig n , unde r whatever forms it haB hr.en di~guis e d, hy wliate\'er mini sters it has exercised the
fun ctious of so\'ereig nt y, it will be ~sked, how are we to exp lai n certain
dark passages of the hi story of man 1 If th e peo ple have been really the
master, wh ence caiTIP. those od ious i 11l'titutio11s whi ch luu •e preyed from age
to age, like an he reditary disease , on the aggr ie red n at i ons~ How stole the
serpent into th e Ed e n of rl e mocrncy 1 In what chamber of the pPople's
deputies, was the order of kni ghth ood created 1 \Vhat bill of rig ht s was it
that stipulated for th e i11 vio lab ilit y of the Canon and Feudal Law 1 What
. date do the ar ti c les of abdicat ion bear, wherein the major ponion of ma 11ki111I, wea ri e d wit.h the ca res of governmc 11 l, res ign the ir irk some statr., and
~cll thc111 sc lvcs for • la vC's lo the ir fo llow 111c11 1 Wlwrc was the popular US ·
semhly co nve ned , whi ch followed up t. he sple ndid disti11ctions of chil'alry in
Europe, wiL11 the e mol1111H:111s a nd honors of modern ar isloc racy ; "gilding
a little that was ri c h before," a nd lavishin g on an overgrown peerage civil
immunitic~, and inj11rio11~ monopo li es'!
If Public Opinion is supreme, how
came in t hose a h11scs whi ch pl1111 dcr th e ma11y of wealth, a nd honor, a11 d
freedom, to lay th e costly 'Poi ls al th e feet of a fe w 1 Crowns, pri11cipalities, and orders of nobility, - are these th e trophies with which P11hlic
Opinion ha s strow11 its path 1 . • . . . Yes. Eve n these were ca llP.d into
being by the word of the people. And a ll those political evi ls which have
' plagued the suffe ring race of' men, fi rst sprung into life a t the will of the
JH!o pl ~, and rr.r.r. ivr.d :i i. it i;; ow11 ha11tl tl u·i r hlnody r.o mmi ss ion ; lik e fi C' nd s
mi scd hy t.he e 11<:! 0: 111t <' I', wh om they will sl111 r tly tormen t. Fully wa s the
. di sease uf which 1'11hli c O pi11io11 wa s so rely sic k ; l g nor') 11cc wa s the dead. ly charm by w hi ch it was bound; a nd is it s trange that it lay powerless
along the lan d, the vic tiln of petty t.yra nn y1 It was on ly s,1111so11 s ubmitting
hi s i11 vin c ih lc lock s t.o he confined hy t he fin gers of Delilah wi th the pin of
~ wea ••er's beam.
And Oh, how faithfully the old patriarch told its hi story ,
when he prophesied the fortunes of hi s unwur1hy chilrl ! "I ssachar is a
1trong ass, co uchin g down between two burdens ; and he saw that rest was

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good, and the land, that it was pleasant, and he bowed hi s shoulder to bear,

this real Autocrat; that no longe r those titular gentlemen, who, in London
and Paris, on so le mn rlays, wear crowns anrl solemn dre.se•, but Canning,
and Scott, and Malthus, are now the sovereigns of the world. It is in this
fact, that Public Opinion ha s grown wiser, and will continue to be~ome
more informed, that I find the superiority and the hope of our time•. And
the humblest individual, """H"e that his opinions are a portion of the sov·
ereirrn law of the land, would do wrong to concei1·e his influence lo he insignifi ca nt. It is not insignificant. Nut a thought you think, not a syllable
ynu utter, but may, in its consequences, affect the prospffity of your country. Our world is framed like. a 1•as t whi•periug galle_ry, - _m1e of those
curious structures of human •kill, where every breath 1s aud1hle, and the
word that at first was faintly spoken, scarce trusted to the silent air, is sent
swifily onward and around th7 v~1Ulted walls; a thous~nd _bahbling echoes repeat and prolong the sound, till 1t shakes the globe with lls thunder.
Come out of your intlil'idual shell. Give your thought• to the interests
of your race, and, like ~he genie in Oriental st.ory, _who, ere.,pi1!g out ?f the
caske t of a few inc hes , rn winch h e hnd hc'm 1111prrnoncd, rrgamed Ins co ..
lossnl proportion•, you will grow to the •tnture of a godlike intelligence.
Nor will yo u fail of )'Olli" reward.. Those who, by their migh~y i111l11ence,
exert a wise control over the will of the people, always rece1 l'e from the
Public Opinion th ey have enlightened, the ir just mead of praise. It is a
:-pectadc we can neve r he holcl without emotion, the s11pre11rncy of one mind
over this cor1centrau~d inte lligence. It claims our reluctant reverence fur
characters in which the amiable virtues a re wanting. The moral merit of
Cromwell is exceedi ngly quest ionable; but his astonishing nJHstery of the
public mind, and the encr~ies he wielded in the cause of liberty, have procured him the e ndleas gratitude of freemen.
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and became a sen ,.ant to tribute."
But these seasons of patient sufferance do not always last. And long ·
periorls of torpid quiescence are sur.ceederl by awful re actions. It iA thi1
mome nt when Public Opinion chan(i"es, - this turning of the tide, - that i1
the suhlimc moment in the annals ol nations.
.

•· Its •tep is ns the trend
Of n flooil th nt lenve• its berl,
And its march it is ru<le desolatio n."
It bursts through the mounds and lev ees that dammed it np, and strikes ter·
ror into ancient societies, and institutions that lie peacefully over the land,
hy the roar of th e inundation. It is when great events a re pe nding, when
the scales of human des tiny are hung out in hea ve n, n11d the eyes of men
grow dim with watching the doulitful balance, - wh e n old sys tems fail, and
old principle:_;; are a by~word, - when the strong attnH:lio11s which keep so·
ciety in ilH orbit an~ di ssoh ed, arid the winds of Pass ion go s ighing by, it is then that l'ulili c Opinion rc-c" ll"cts itse lf to meet the s" le11111 c111crgcn°
cy; lea\'ing its ancient seats, it s hakes off the dust of ce 11t11ri c~ , an<l carries
the human race forward tn the mark they are pre pared Lo reach.
It was in a cri s is like this, that the k eys of heaven were wrested from the ·
successor" of St. Peter, and the light of the ltcformation le t in upon ll
1no11rni11g chmch . And when the clearer light of another age revealed the
abuses s till ur1r<'formed, P11Llic Opinion invaded once more the ground that
was fen ced with ecc lesiastica l i111.e rdi ctions , continm~ d the lteroic work, and
finally launched it s little fleet of pilgrims on the main, to f.,lluw the setting
sun, a nd lodge the floating ark on the mountains o f a New 'Vorld.
And here in the \Ve" t, it is "t the bidding of Public Opinion, that Liberty has unrolled the oky of lrnlf the globe, for he r s tar s1ia 11gle d banner. lt
is at the same hi g h mandate, that Sc ience throws across our rushing streams
her trin111pha11t arches; yokes toge ther with a Cyclopean architecture the
everlasting hills, and the n leads over their giddy summits the peaceful cara·
vans of commerce.
Ilnt, with all its sp le ndid triumphs , it is still an unsteadfas t and turbulent
principle, ad in co nsta nt as an i11divid11al 111i11d . And th e a1111als of our race
arc but acct1:'-'i11g r eco rd s , which sho w how Public Opinion has given its
voluntary and o mnipoten t sanction t o every form of cri me. It has crossed
grea t enterpris<'s, and brnken brave hea rt<. It ha s doome d to the faggot
and the rack the cha111pions of trnth, am! the children or (;od. It i• 01
much the parent of the lloly I nqni sition, and the Court uf the Star-Chamber,
as or llible Societies, or th e ltoyal Academy.
What, the n, is onr secu rity 1 Can we rear no bulwark 1 Can we dig no
tre nch around our n oblest and moet venerable e'talili,l11nc11ts of Church and
State,1 Are we all e mbarked in a frail vessel, and may thi s blind Polyphe·
nrns sink us at pl ea~·ure with ci swing of his arm~ \\'h e re is the origin of
Public Opinion? It L.:; in private opi11iun. Each grc:H llati onal feelingt
wave nfrer w ave, has bee n first the opinion of a few, the op inion of one.
H e re, then, is th e great check, and safeg narrl, and reg lllat or , in individual
character and influence. Oliviowdv, no ex ternnl force can net on the all·
s11rr111111di11g CIH:rgy of a pt1l1lic 111ir;d. In vain would \\'P pb111. 1-'P lltriefl, or
patrol a w:ll.c h :d10111. thi!-: 1111111:1~t1 : n : d pnw1·r. Tiu• w:i _y lo l !X pl11d1 ~ a rung•
azirw iH to apply t.lw _111alch lo a kcn11·I. Tiu ~ w:1y tn 11111\' C tl11! public, i~ to
affoc:t indi\'idual :;. Every ho111 ·s t cifr1.c11 who111 we ca n c11lightc11; every
mind throu g hout the nation, by which ri g ht viPW!" arc cntc rlained, and
prnpPr (i_·cli11gs d1t • ri ~ hed, is 011e more i111pro\·1·r of P11lilic Opinion.
Let it lie <iePply co us idercd Uy us, si11 ce it thus ur ig i11at.ed, how much
every superior und e rs tanding is its natural coun se llor and guide; and to
what extent such men as Swifi, Ilurke, anJ Mirabeau we re the ministers of
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"For, if we would spenk true,
Much to the rnan is due,
\Vhfl, fro m hiti private gardens, where
He liv ed reserv ed n.11d austere,
A s if hiR hi~hest plot,
To J•lnnt thC Bergamot,
Could 'lJy indus trious valor c1imb
To ruin the g-re11t work of Time,
Arni cn)';L the kingdom's old
Into nuothcr moliJd.,,

But, where virtues and talent s ha.-e alike contributed to im·est an inclividual with this authority over hi H coternporaries, Puhlic Opinion njoires
to pay it s in sl rncter a hearty tribute of dcserl'ed p1aise. It ha" lately_ heen
sigually manife:; lcd, in the dee p sy mpathy in our loss, on the rcs1g!m11on of
his seal al th e liea<l of the university, hy one, for so many years, Its ornament and pride. I cannot "peak o f President Kirkland without a crowd of
atfectio11ate recollections, which, I am sure, are familiar to all who hear
me. For he was one of that trnly fi11e genius which ident ified his ch~racter
with the in s litulion in which he f:at. Whil st he remaine d here , his elegant
mind raine d i11fl11 e 11ce 011 all rhat liarlrnured in irs halls; and it was not easy
for dulness to come under his eye , without being sweetened and r e fin ed .
The stranger who saw him, went away glad, that there was so much savor
in human wit.. lie was a living n •fotarion of that nncient r.alomny, rhat
colh•gcs mak<~ men moro~t~ awl 1111~kilfol in tl.m .ficirn1cc of hm111t11 !•al11r~.
lie had a <:<Jn11t"11a11cc that \V:IH like a IH!1Jed1ctm11. Arni whut wtth Ins
lil1cr:.I lwart, hi ~ rid1 r.onvcr~:i1iou, and the~ gra<"r of hi~ accn111pli:.J1cd manners, he re flected a li.ght upon this seminary, which a jus t cummuuily lune
not failed, and shall not fail to repay with lasting honor.
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MODEl. OF A VALEDICTOilY ENGLISH ORATION.
SECOND DEGREE. -1\las ter's Orution.

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In se ler.ti11g for om· lopic:, "The Spirit that ~ l1011ld acco111pa11y onr Hcpuh·
li ca 11 l11 ~ lit u tio11 ~," le t it 11ot IJC :111ticipatcd 1hat we arc IJringing hid1er n
politi ca l tirade lo fret and raw'! about uursel\'cs, or that we mea n ~o run

mad al t.lic Aotrnd of our own \'oicf:, aR it pro1101111<:cs t.lic word "rcpulilic!'
\Ve have uot arra yed 011r~r:lvt ·~, gladialor lik e, to aUack or defend public

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to despatch i11 the ICw 111ornen1s allotted 11 s all the political
or to set right the exec utive,
leg islative, and judicial <lepa rt111 en ls of our government, i11 the !:hort period
or twe 11ty minutes . \.Ve co111e not to hat.tie with politi c ians , whoev er they
may be, and whether they stand on either bank or in th e midd le of the RuUico11.
\!Ve come not to sweep down reg im e nts of the m with a sentence,
or to hlow up !he co untry wilh a rna g'17. i11e of wo rd s. No; we woulcJ cl well
upon thi s s pirit., wiLl1out taking tlic won.I "pnlitics" upon our lips. Theim
have e nte red i11to a 11d con1a111inated every uth<!r place, - let the house of
God, the temple of litera ture , be •acred a little lunger. L e t there be. one
s pot le l't where ratio11al, thinking man may re lrcat from po li tical, tall:ing
man. \ V
• e will not be 1he first lo tread it with a sac ril egious ste p. No;
in the •pirit in which the proph et of old pnl off hi• shoes on Mount Horeb,
"Ucca use the gro1111cl whereon he s tood wa ~ holy,'' we wuult.l venture in
thiil plac:e lo speak of 1hat sp irit which s hould guide aud animate us in the
enjoyment uf our pec uliar ins titutions.
And address ing, as we trnsl, nay, as we know, a re publi can assembly,
born un der the influe nce, s111To111Hled and supported by the sp irit of free in·
s tituti ons, what inquiry ca n be more imponanl limn that which opens to
them the way in whic:h they can mos t s:ife ly keeJ>, and mos t perfectly enjoy,
these i11 st il11tiuns 1 The work of auaining them is accomplished. The
balllc is over, the victory is won, and our fath e rs are at r est, These instituti ons are now ours. Praise cannot make th e m more, no r detraction lc~s
so. 'J'hcy are ours, bou ght and paid for. J311t they arc ours u11dcr a so lemn
n'!spo 11 si hle11ess, - u11dc r none other than the tru st that we wil l prc!'crve,
exalt, a11d exte11d 1!11!111. But we Rhall discharge thi~ hi gh and honoralilo
tru~I, only a~ we hold them i11 a riglil t-:pirit, and exPrci~e them upon proper
priuciples . 'V e !' peak 11ot f~ X lravaga11tly, the n, whc11 we fiil)', that in 111ain·
tai11i11 g- and holdi11g- t-;:H:n :d dial ~ pirit whi ch will ador11 :111d pc rpct11:il.c thcso
i11 ~ tillltio11 !-I , and give tlu•111 Lim 011ly !.11i11g: lht!,Y w:111t, tlu:ir free co urse• , con ..
sists the whol e duty o f our general ion j and that whe n thi~ ceases lo Ue im·
portant a nd inter esting in our eyes, we cease to deserve them. Honor and
gratitude have uer.n to those who allained,-honor and gratitude shall be
to those who preserve the m.
Th e "pirit, th e n, in the first. place, whose claim s we would advocate, is a
spirit of nati on al 111odcsty. \Ve u.sc the terrn in distinction from that na ..
tional arrogan ce or vanity which we dcc 111 1rnhcco 111i11g :rnd dange rous.
\Ve arc aware that the hi .:-; tory of 011r country iH a pt·c1iliar uue,-pcculiar in its int erest and i111porta11ce, and 11ot to us only, but to the world.
\Ve ha ve read with a thrilling intereot lhe stor y of our fath ers' doings, dwelt
upon the ir glorious anticipation ~, and hail eJ the f11lfil111 c11t of the m, as }'Car
.after )"""' they h:ivc hce n dcvd opcd. But where i11 all thi s is the oc:ca•io11
of arr11gance lo 0 11rse l vt~s and den1111r.iatiun of others, as if we stood on the
on ly e lev ation, and, what is more, had reache d that elevation mrrHPlves 1
··Our duty, we have said, is to adorn our inst itutions; ostentation is its very
oppo•ite,- ln diffuse them ahruacl ; detraction of others will defeat us.
But who are they who would th11 s s tride the ea rth like a co loss us 1 Where
.is the history uf their toil, and danger, and rnfTering 1 Where are the mon·
questi1,n s that uow interes t us as a people, -

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361

uments of their personal valor and heroi s m, and splendid achievement 1
Wh ere is the r eco rd of the ir ma rtyrdom 1 We have seen the conceited descenda11l of so me ri ch ancestor, decked in the rohes which that ancestor has
toiled th:tt he might wear,- flult e ring about, the puppet of an hour, yet
walking, as he imag·i11 es, a god amidst the s111Tom11li11g pigmies, - talking
as if the world were 111ad c for him alone, licc:w sc , forE<ooth, he really cannot
concc ivt!, - as certainly no other ca11, - how he could have been 11m<lc for
the wor ld. \.Ye have see n, I say, thi R poor imitati on of humanity, and
looked wilh conlcntpt. on what we cou ld not pity. llut what do tlll'y more
or l>e tll ~ r, who in the costm11e of national va11 i1 y arc s talking about amongst
the natiu11s of the earth, vai11ly d1-:clai111ing about their i11 stitutions, -tlu'! irs,
becau se they happened to he born whe re th ese had been planted, - and
swecp inl( dow n the ins titnlions of others, for the modest yet coge11t reason
of the Pharisee, that they are not "" their own.
13ut w e wou ld see amongst us as a nation, that modesty which we admire
so mu ch in d ome, tic life . Individual rnodes ty,-we have all seen her, - is a
love ly da111scl, with simp le 111ie11, re liring manne rs, and chaste array. '!'here
is nothing nhu11t he r to re mind u11c of a flow e r garden in t.li s trcss, or a rain~
bow bewitched. \Vhat is gaudy she hates, - di s play is her aho111i11alion.
The fce11e of her g lory is at home , acting, not speak ing her prai ~es. T 'his
is i11divid11al modesty, and national modesty is the sa me damsel grown into
a discreet and state ly matron. S he has changed her robes, it is true, but
not their character nor her own. She is •!i ll the •ame, only more perfect
in her principl es, as s he is more ex tended in her i11flue11cc, - seen, only in
the unassu ming deportment of her children, - heard, only in the voice of
their e nt e rprise , - known, as every good tree is, on ly by her fruits. \Ve
would honor the ma tron, as we courted the damsel. \Ve would hold her
fast, fur s he is our ornament;- we would love her, for she is altogether
lovely.
W e would not, - for it is the spirit that, in the second place, we would
advoc~le, - we would not, fur we dare not, decry that national pride, honest, open, hi ghminded prid e, which origi11atcs in se lf-re$pect, is nurtured by
all the generous sympathies that gathe1· ronnd the name of our native land,
and which brings forth a" its fruits national enterprise and sll'e11 g1h, and
what is 111orc, nationa l virtue. National pride in this scni::c is patriotism,
and who shall de cry palrioti"111 1 But the vanity that we condc11111 is opposite in it" "''cry look, fcatnrc. ancl gesture, lo this honorable vinuc, n11d it
is Lccamm we think it so , 1hat we do cundP11111 it. Vanity i~ mean,- patrioti~111 is 11ohlc.
Va11ity jg da11 gc ro111~, - patrioti ~ m is our lmlwark. Va11ity
is w cakll ('H~, - patriotism is powcl'. Thu organ of the one is lhc to11guc,
- that of the olher the hea rt. An uld poet has said of a somewhat differeut
passion, - and there are !hose who hear me who can bear witness to its
truth, - that
"Passion s nre likened best lo floods and st reams;
Th e shallow murmur, - bul lh c deer are dumb;
Sn wlH:n 111fec:linns yield discn 11rsc, It Hee r11 s
Th e ho1to111 i!i hut i;hnllow whc11cc lhey Coffie.
They tllfll nrc ri ch in words ni111~t 11ccd1"J t.Ji i;cover,

Th .; y nre Out poor iu Lhat which makes n Jover.''

Anrl there is philosophy as well as poetry in the idea.
Id it '"keel, then , who is the friend, the firm, lrne-heartcrl, e''er to be
trnslc1I friP11d of our ins titutions 1 \.Ye would ans\\·e r, not he who is perc h·
r.d upon the housc ·lop, shouling ho!:!a 11nas to the four corners of the ea rth,
and proclairni11g lo the world," L o, here and here alone perfec tion has tak en up her abode' ;-Lui rather he who has placed himself at the hottom, in
the mos t honorab le of all altitudes, that of strenuous yet unass uming exer. tion ; - not he who talk s, hut he who does the mos t. Is it asked again,
· where the n are we to look for the praises of these ins titutions at home, and

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their acceptance and diffusion abroad~ We would answer ag11in, not to
tlu~ d:.~nge.rons s \y e~ping P.ancgyrica of us and ours, or the more dangerous
swecp111g dc11unc1at1011~ uf all others and all things e l:.e, L11t to th e good
th ey have du?e, the e \•il they have pre\"C~1t.e d, the happiness they h:\\'e diffused, the mi sery . the y ha ve healed or n11t1gared. Ask of hones t industry,
why s he labo rs with a s t!·ong ha~d and a sm iling face. Ask of com merce,
why s he dance• Joke a sa ilor hoy 111 the hreeze, joyo us and impatient. Lis·
ten tu the busy, g ladsome hum of art mingling with the voice of nature on
eve ry stream, amt the so~g o f con~entment blending with and perfecting the
melody. Belw_ld ~duc:_1t111n 1 the 111ma te of the hurnbles t dwelling,-man
e nli g htened, tl11nk111g for himse lf, and worshipping his Maker in the only
acceptable way.' his own way. Look at yourselves, your c hildre n, your
h_ome~.
And 11 you •cc not, hear no t, feel no t, the prai ses o f these institn·
t1011s 111 all these, eloquence cannot varnish them. L et them begone,- they
are not what they seem to be.
'rhe_f'pi1:it, .;:tgain,, whog.e _clai_ms \~e would advocate ag nn accompaniment
~>four 111 sllllt lt u n:;, H.;.a i-: p1n.t of 1~at1011al _rno~lc~n.tt io11 .. Tl_tc theo ry, and 111ay
1t e \'er lrn !he practical c fl cct ol ~hesc r11st1tu11on•, ' " tl11s; that e\·cry free
mcmlwr of the commu111t):, he he l11gh or low, rich or poor, has a right equal
and unquest1 ?nal>le, .ro tl1111k, Fpeak , aud act upon every measure or igina ting
among a nd 1nt.ere~w1~ us as a people. ~nrl, still furth er, th e foll develop·
m e 11t of these 111st1tut11>11s de mand s the four and 1111shac kled Pxer tio n of this
~ight. .Take thi s single fact in co~11exion with the hi story of man. What
JS the hi sto ry of man, we mean political man, as he is a me mhe r o f the com·
mun it~· and the s ubj ect uf gove rnmen t 1 It is but a hi stor y of parties,-of
tl11 s "de and tha t " id e of some undefina ble line, the direction o f which no
earthly philosophy ca n trace . Yes; strange as it may seem and inco11sist·
e_nt with that ra nk in creation to which man has laid claim, ever since the
tune when A bra ham and Lot went one to the ri<>ht hand and the other to
the le ft, me n have divided them se lves into pa rti es ~l the names of which the
hu.11 ia11 tongue falters, and t~1 e h~11mu1 unders tandi ng sh ri11ks ag hast. And
tl 11~ has bee n the ca•e, win le, 111st.cad of a general freedom of speech and
action, H few o nl y of me n, a very few , lmve been acknowledged t o be human
b e 111 g,, Hnd Hll the rest have been left to mak e them se lves out so. \Vhat is
to lie the co nsequence no"-, whe n .a ll are adm itted to be so 1 Jarring and
con.fusion, and c~nsequ e nt. deElrur.llon, h;:ne made up the story of mankind,
wl11le t.yr:rnny lmdl ed the ll' . tongues, and despoti sm hnng like a dead weight
upon the II' sp irits. 'vVhat 1s to be the resu lt now, when tyranny and clespPlt s rn have bee n hurled "to the moles and the lmt ~," and 1he tonoue nnd
the • pirit uf every 1.nan arc admitted, required to he free 1 Th e history of
o ur ra ce, w e perceive , re:ul s u" hut a sorry lesso n upon the subject. Anti
the l11 slory of our own co.untry fonn3 by no means a perfect exception to
th e rule , for an old Spanish a uthor, not a hundred years ago declared
"that the a ir o f that cou ntry ycleped America was marvellousl/iufectious'
a nd inr.linetl men'9 minds to wrangling a nd contention."
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But the spirit which, if any can, must put an e nd to this hitherto close
a.llrnn.ce be tween freedom a11~ cor!tention,- the ~pi rit whi c h , like our liber·
ties, 1s no w he1:e to b':' found '". lnstury, bnt ,~, hi c: h mu st spring up with and
pr?t~c:t tl~em! 1s a epm~ o~ n at.rnnal moderation, - that generous, Christian
s pint wh1?h 1s crn~ I whde 1t tl111!k s , and ch• ntable while it speaks and acts,
-1.hat ~pin t, w_h1 ch , . 1f 1~xp<~ ri c 11 cc doeg unt ~:rnctio11, n~a so n docri, nnd
winch, 1f to he lo1111d 111 no other record, is yet fo1111d and enforced in thnl
of. tlw pat.tern of all i11 stit11tion s, -Ghri s tia11ity. Yes ; the s ing le consider·
at1on, - and we ne ed no other, - the single consideration of th e broad extent .o f onr libertie>, is in itself the. most e loquent '" " 'ocate of moderation.
Pcrlect freedom must take her for tis ha ndma id for wherever it has started
with1'.ut he r, it has fail e d. That which, if ""Y 'th ing ca n, must distinguish
the l11story of the present from that of all pas t time, is the operation of the

ENGLISH COnIPOSITION.

369

trne republican principle, that the full enjoyment of liberty by all depends
upon the modera te nse o f it by eac h.
llut _why argu~ an ab~tract principle 1 Who a re they that oppose it 1
What 1s it. that 11npcdes 1td progress 1 'Ve arc not rlecryiug, - God forbid
that we ever ~hnuld, - a ~pi rit of free, open discussion. On the contrnry,
w_e arlv~cate 11 ?S the li fe-bloo d of o ur in stituti o ns, the very promoter of
moderation
It 1s an abandonment of this fair discussion that we condemn
as fatal to it, - a willingness to act in obed ien ce to othe r than our own unbiasse~I judgment. It is they who would surrender the ir pe rsonal i11d ependc!1ce for the b ondage of partisans, who would sacr ifi ce their sacred birth·
right of fr ee th ong ht and action, to become th e meanest, bcr:anse the voluntary, s la\'cs of anot he r, who must answer for the discord and confusion that
re ~u lt.
Who is he that. talks of freedom and equality anrl rights, and yet
tl~mk s. as another man tl11nk s, acts as he acts, and si mply because that other
blfls 111111 so th111k ~nd act 1 If this .be liberty, that liberty of which we have
hea rd so much, g":e us ha~' k aga111 the d:ork ages , for then at least we
shall n ot sec the c ha111 that luncls 11, to the carih.
Oppose d a lso to this spi rit of moder:ot ion, is that rlesire of controversial
di slin ct!o 11 in t1.1e )'Ounger rnemb~rs of the ;.ommunity, which, when it has
well spice d . t.h~ll' ton gue and embitte r ed their pen, produces what is called
~ a youn.g po lit~ c 1 a11.
I know. not a more l\tnusing, we re it not so dnngerou::3
~, spr.c11ncn t~f o ur race, as tlus c la ss of inexper ienced yet fiery combatantf: .
1 he y .co me 111lo the world, and the first cry you hear is,"' 'vVe mu st fight.'
Our lath e r• a.nd our g ra11dfa1h c rs. fc>11ght, and why should not we 1 Trne,
we have n.11lh111g Yery special. to fight abot1t, Lut sti ll we m11.!'t fi ght. The
old p~ny fires ha ve hee~ 1 burn mg 0!1ly half a century; why put them ~ ut so
soon . And the quesuons that lundled them, thouoh
a little out ol date
0
have sti ll two s id es left , a nd what need we more 1" And so the bttle be:
gins,-wo.uld I.hat it might e nd "'.d1cre it beg:111,- in s imple, un ;1tta ined,
an<l ur1 att:~1 n11bl c nothing. \\le admire their zeal, applaud the ir i11o e n11ity,
a!·e ast.o n1shP.d at th ei r mo1:e th a n (l uixolic valor; bu t we laugh ~l their
s11npl1c11y.' "''.' w.onder at their fo lly, we deprecate their effects. 'Ve would
trust our rn ~ l1t11t10n s to coo ler heads and safe r hands. Expe riencr., - that
gray-hcad 1,J old gen tl eman, who followed tim e into the world and who was
cote1npo rary with wiBdom, e re the foundations of the ea rth w~re laid is altogether rh e. t.a fe s~ guardian of SL!cl.1 precious treasures . True, he m:'lY not
hara.ngt1r. with f{tTlte ~o much rapnhty rmd fierceness as thei:;e fluent u:=:t1rpers
of ht s place; but die words w in ch drop s low ly from his honored lips are
full as wi se a11rl full as worthy o f pre servation as thei rs . And thonnh he
stan~I lc.'11.1 ing "!"Jll hi ~ staff. and look i11g wit.h straining eyes, we woulJ trust
to. l11s \'1 s10 11 qmte as. 1mpl1c1tly, a• to that of the stately, elast ic }OUth, who,
wnh you nge r and b1:1ghte r. eyes, does n ot always see. 'vVe would call back
this venerable ~eer. from hi s obscurity . He is growing old fashioned . 'Ve
would a rra )'. him 111 a modern. costume, and set him in o ur hi gh places.
Tl~e free air of our country will re ne w his yo111.h, and h e, iu return will
build up onr i11~titulions in the spiri t o f' wi::idorn and moderation.
'
~Ve would .ban ish from amongst 1~ s, the n, these an d all o the r dispositions,
wh1~h sta nrl 111 the way of that nalt0nal moderation which we d eem so es·
sentrnl. A rnl then, be hold a cont.m s!.! Place yourself upon the highest
elevation, !hat ove rlook ~ your cou ntry. Ba11ish moderation from the 111ultit11<l e. b<'ll <' alh you. Yon ma y ha,·e hr:ml t.hc roar of the thund er, and the
la~lun g of lite ocean, l!nt yo u h:.n ·e l u ~anl 11111 ~ic, lite ral ums ic, rmnparc<l
wrth th e roa r and h~sl1111g of a n 1111111oderatc, 1111charitable, nngry, free peo·
pie: But look agarn, - s he has rP;t t~rn ed. B e hulrl th~ sublimes t sight
wl11ch th e e arth can alfonl, - ten milhons of free me n, rl11fe rent each from
the o the r , et w.ith a common country, a common inte rest , an<l a common
hope, m ee ting, d1 sc u~sing, differi ng indeed in opinion abou t common measures,- but the time for action has come, - they have gone up like Chris-

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371

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

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tian men to discharge their duty to their country, - it is over,- they have
gone like C hristian men to discharge their duty to themselves. Be the latte r pi c ture ours, and freedom will ind eed be a godd ess; be it ours, and we
could almost say that a little vanity would he excusable.
From s pea king of the spirit which s hould animate us as members of onr
great repnbli c , th e occaeion natnrally IJl'ings us C.11· a moment to the •pirit
with which we meet as mcmuera of that smaller re p11hlic of letter• , whoso
anniversary has thi& day bro11ght us together. To those of us who hero ·
meet a(J"ain, where a short time s ince we parted, the occasion is one of min-

gled fe"e lings. \Ve ha ve gathered again in thi s g..-e~ t congregation, a nd
around thi s sacred altar; b11t not all. In the little tune that has elapsed
s ince onr separati o 11, three of our number, anti among the m one who, in

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th e e vent which has placed him whom you hear before you, would have so
much more a bly fill ed the spo t wh ere I am standing, h<tve jo ined that greater congregation, around a holi er altar. The tho11ght is a Eolemn and melancholy one. But as , in the wi i!dom or Provid e nce , tlwy we re not pcrmillcd
to enter upon the public stage, the foeling • at llwir loss belong not to the
public . It is not h""'' that we shu11lrl speak or their "inucs which we loved,
or their t:ilents which we re spec ted. Th ese foelin gs belong to us as individual s and a• m embers of that little circle, their connexion with which we
shall always hold in pleas ing recollection .
But we look round again, and behold another wid e breach has been made
within thi s s hort pe ri od, in which nll of us hal'C a common inte res t. The
ve ne rabl e head of our i11stit111.ion,*"-thc g11ardia11, in ~ trn c t c r, fri e nd, the
father or hi s pupils, - he under whose be nignant auspices we commenced
and completed our co lleg iate career, and who dismi s>ed us fro m these hospitab le wall s with a parental bless ing, no longer occupies th a t sea l which
he fill e d so long, so honorably, a nd so use fully. \V e wo11ld mingle our regret with th e general foe ling that has gone with him to hi s re tirement. We
w ould se nd to him th e gratefol rememhrance and filial affection of those,
who will eve r be proud to rem em ber thei r conn ex ion with him. We would
bid him farewell on this s pot, consecrated hy assoc iati ons whi ch will e ver
brin g him to our rememb1'ance: In the nam e o f that educ?tion which he
advanced, of th a t litern ture which he encouraged, of that rclig1on wl11 ch he
adorned, we would hid him an alTectionate fi1re well. \Ve pray that the old
age of !hat man may he se re ne and chcerfol, whose yonlh ha s bee n so brilliant, and whose manhood so use ful. The smiles of a kind Providence be
ever with him . The con sciencP. of a faithful s tewa rd is hi s reward here,
- his reward herca fl e r he ha s lea rned from higher au1hority.
With these feelinrrs of reg re t to sadden this otherwise joyons occasion,
may it not have bee~ we ll for us to ha ve occupi ed it in dw e lling upon the
s pirit that should accompany those institutions, into the mi ds t of which ~e
a r e has tening. It is to the young men of our tim es that the ca ll of our ms t. ituti ons on this subject is the loudest. Ile it th e irs , then , to cultivate a.nrl
diffuse thi s spirit. And then what if no trnmpet-t ongued orator shall rise
up to procla im their prai ses, - what if eloquence be dumh , - the ton_gue of
man !::l il e nt 1

Th ey have a hea ven-born e loque nce, Rweeter than music,

yet

louder than thund er , - the e loquence of trnth. They have a n argument,
whi<'h, tho11rrh it s pea k not, is heard through the universe, - !he argument
of a good

c~use,

011

a Hotrnd bortorn.

Let the .-:pirit that Rlto11ld accompany

tlwrn Im al.road, - h!t 11a I ion a I rrwdt ~~ r y, 111rnlc:r:11 i011 , c hari I y, i 11dt • p1~111ln11c c ,
a11d, abov e all, 1hc Rpirit of Cltri i-;tia11i1y, he llu·ir guard , aud tlu ~ 11, lilu~
Chri sti;111itv, the powp rs of 11alure mny !:i i.rive :i ga in s l them, hut they will
•tancl, f.,,· th ey are founded upon a rock . Man ~a11n o t overthrow th e m, and
the Almighty will not.

• Rev. John Thornton Kirk!an<l.

MODEL OF A VALEDICTORY ORATION IN LATIN.

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Omnibus nunc rite e t feliciter peractis, resta t, au<litores •pectatissimi, ut
vobis pro hac benevolentia gratias ag_a mus , om1~ia fausta. pre?e mur, e t pace

decPdere et valere ' 'Os j11bea 111us. S1 s pec tand1 et audtend1 vos tredet, ut
citig:i imc abcati s pnr.st abim11s.
. .
Scd pri111111n, orr111iln1 s qui ad es ti~, quod la m frequcntcs c?1wcn1~t1s, tam
alle nte audi~tis, tam benignc plausislis, gralias bcnc r~ent a.s agn~t~s ; vobis pnec iptte , yjrgines dilcc tre , m~l~on~ sq11 e h?noratm,, JUV e n1~us ''1nsque
spes et sohtium. Quid no~ tra com1t1a_ s ine vob.1s 1 Q.u1d .n os d1 sertos , eloqu e11 tcs denique e ffi ce re t, s1 non ut aunbus ocubsque vcstris nos coinmende ..
remus 't Etsi nonnullre
'' Spectatum veniunt, veniunt spectentur ut ipsre," ~
et ignosc imns et probai~m~. Cur v_e nimus 1.10~ juvenes, n?s .v11·1, nisi ut

spectemur, au1liarnur e t 1ps 1 1 Sed plures, n11mrum, ut audiat1s, ut oculis,
lingnis , votis favcatis. lgitnr grates, scd
"Grntes persolvcres dignns
Non op is est nostrm."

Vir excellentissime, nos tr:n r e ipuUlicre pri11ceps, te ex animo salntamus,
ac virum tantum, bonis'lue omnibus tam probatum, nos tr is adesse comitiis
,... gau (!emus. . .
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Virum t1b1 conJunct1ss1mum, pa tnreque et v1rtul1s fautonbu!:I car1ssimu~1,
nc, dum vixerit, integ ritati s, prude ntire, omnisque virtutis ~x~ mplum,, m

se<les altiores arcessitum, tecum lugcmus. Sed bonorum a01m1s, omn1um
desiderio, " l\lanet mansururnque est quidquid in eo amavimus, quidqui<l
admirati sumus. Placid e quiesca t."
Prreclara quirle m nostrre reipublicre felicitas videtur, quum inter tam multos virtute eximios ne mo oh amorem erga illam ins ignem se reddere potest;
quum omnia prosµere pulchreque e ve niunt~ .Flore ntilm.s reh11.s,. f: um.m&. lm-

jus re ipubli cre tranquillitate, s ummft concord1a, respublica m1l11

. qu1de~n

et

aliis multis ut confido cari .ss ima tui s aus piciis evasit nova;* ohm qmdem

terris nunc r e e t leg ibus a vobis di sj uncta; ul a liam sese libertatis vindicem
exhilieat, alium amicilire vinculum adjiciat. Perduret atque valeat. Vale,
vir excell e nti ss ime.
Et tu ho noratiss imc , cu i virticcm mtatc pro vcclo albcntcm civilcs usque
ambiun: hon o res · et vos, Conciliarii, Curatoresque hon o ra ndi, quilrns faven ..
tibn s e t adjuva ntibus , vigent res sunu.na

~1~st1:aque A ca.de ~nia, va~ele.

. .

Vale e t tn Prreses r evere nde et, s1 mil11 li cea t, canss11ne, CllJllS prres1 d10
lumen yeritaiis, patrum au~piciis in nostrm Acad emi a: pene tra lil.>us olim. accens um, ful sil fulget<JU C novo sempe r p11riore11ue s ple ndore. Esto sernp1term11n .

Valcte Professores e ruditi ssi mi ac prrestantissimi !

Quibug eloquemur

verbis quanti't obsen·an ti f1 vos h a~e nrn;, quam grati:; a n i 1~is ve.strtim in nos

assiduorum laburmn, curreque vigilant1s record a mur 1 Sit vob1s hoc excelsum ct pcne <livinu111 nnl11us et pnc mium. Omnibus qui me rentur certissime
cvcnict.

Amici sodalcsque carissimi, it erum de niquc, po st aliquo<l temporis inter vallum co nvenimus, ut his se<libus amatis, quas veluti beato rum ins ulas
dolent~s reliquinms, nos tnc c ustodibus juv~ntutis mer ito honoratis, nobis

i1n1icc m ct illi s valcdicc111t1::i. Quis cnim, q1111m tcrnp ori R inter r:a ma~ nas c t
cum amici s ac ti r cmini : '.H :itur, dolorc m 110 11 ~cntiat qnod his urn11ihm1 11i111i11111
citO i;esc cripcrc, mariq11c iucc rlo ac L1111111lt110:-;o sc committcrc oportcnt,
nunquam rc diturum, 111mq11:u11 ~.oda lium ora j11~;1.111da :lspcclurum ~ 1111..crjccto

jam nun c lnev i tantum tnennw, multos opt1111e dilectos ocul1s a 1111noque
fru s tra req uirimus.
Quid ego non audio tantum 1

Eorum quos inter-l ect is~imos ha buimmi,

• Anno 1820, re sp . Maine a rep. Mass. se scparavit.

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a lter morti occubuit , a lter in te rris exlernis abes t. Quid illos
quos amavimu s a me nominari necesse_ sit 1 Qui sque vestru~n .eos ·eqmnt,
qni sque dcsitlcrat. Valcant omn cs qm alJs unt, e t vos , a m1 c1 ·atresq11c,
va le te !
Vos q 11 orp1c valc tc, 0 11111 cs rpti a1lestis,_-: sc nes ntrp1 ~ juv~nr. . , quihm1. fortuna fida cl q11ili11 ~ pcrlida , - 111a t ro11;c virg1ncsquc , quilJUs ~1 l ' ccor qmlrns·
que d es it ; - \'ol.Ji s a ds int ante om nia vi rt us,
" I.. iR 1111n<prnm toJ?ll rnrr1, m e ns qni e tn,

It will n ot, p erl rnp•, be hazn rd ous to affirm, tha t within the range of
.anci e nt and 111 ode rn hi s tory, it is rliffic uh, if n ot im possible , to p o int out a
!'ingle i11di\•id11:tl, in whom wa s di scoverable so va ( ious a combination of
literary a cco111 p li s h111 e nls. It may al so lie safe ly afll rme d, that he seemed
to p ossc8' a 111i11rl which act nall y co ntaine d a g re at er and mo re vari~gatcd
ma ss of k1111wlcdge than any othe 1· pe rson h as b een k11own to po ~sess. It
will not ho wel'cr I.Jc s11rpris i11 g , tha t hi s prod uc tion s excited th e wonde r a nd
astoni shme nt or 1nanki11d, wh e ll W C re fl ec t, that he harJ a m"mory which a t
any murnc nl con ld furni sh him with all that he had ever rea d , a nd a jnd g ment whi c h could exac tly com bine a nd co mpare, ana lyze an J agg re ga te, the
most sub tle reaso ning, a nd a love of lca rni11g neve r satiated by in d 11l ge 11ce.
A clear h e a d a nt.I ni ce di sc rimina tion, a log ica l meth od and mathe matical
preci s io n , ren der ed him one of the mos t powerfol r easoners of hi s age. A
character so e min e nt, it is no! likely co uld pa•s hi s own times without muc h
animadve r s ion and much prni sc. A s h e wns th e mos t con~ pi c 11 0 11 s lite ra ry
ma n of hi s nat io n, it is not 1rrnltcr of Stl l'pri se, tha t w e fii11I \\'rillcnt of hi111
mo n~ th:.11 it would liC' i::a C
e impli ci tly to c re dit , a111! prc~ 11111pli11n u11iv cr.!':illy
lo di sbe li eve. S oon after hi s dea th, he w:is \•c ry justly com pare d lo Ilic
si ck li o n in the litl.Jlc , w ho m, w hil e lil'ing, fe w had t he te me rit y ro attack,
but ngain~t whm11, w he n in the de fe nceless s ta te of a corse , a ll in w hom
the 111ali g- na1H'.y of e nv y , nr the force of pnti11dice , o r the excitcmc11t of rcSe ntmc11t c;o.:. i f-l l c d . 1111 i tc d tlu~ i r a ssaults with rancor n11 d bi Ht~ rn css. In rnally,
the g ratification of th ese fee lings was li ke the rury of canine ma dness. They
bit with the mordacit y of the ' ' ipe r ; but the impa>s ive m e ta l rend e re d r e tributive justi ce to the ir efforts , and the good se nse of mank ind r eproba te d
their folly .
It is a de li ghtfol em ploy me nt to tra ce th roug h th e stages o f infanti11 e imbec ility, the grow th o r a ge nius , w h ich, in th e progress ive g radat io n• or ir s.
maturity, exp"'1d s li ke the maj es ti c branch es of" t he Prid e o f the Fo res t ,"
by slow d r g rees, a nd na tive hard ih ood, acquirin g s trength and e nl arg<' me r1 t ,
and hccoming at last " subli me ern bl1·,lll or inde pe ndence, of fortitud e , a nd
du rahilit y. Th e d e ve lopme nt o f Dr .•John so n 's mind, is a s ubj e ct , fr om
the co nte mpl a ti o n o f whi ch, we may de rive much p leaH1re a nc.J improve m e n t.
lt w as nu t lik e a s ic kly a nd le nd e r plnn t, to h e nursed wirh the most a nx ious soli c itud e . It pnssesscd a 11ali\"e vigor and CllP. rgy, which n e ith e r th e
disadva ntages of an 11npro pitio11 s c ulture could retard , n or the hla s ls of adverse fortun e could depress . The tempestuous s torm:::, to w hi c h n na t ure
less ha rd y wo uld ha\'C y ir. ld f' d, il horc wilh i11fle xil,Jc.• fin1111 c:::!'l ; a nd, lik e a
1'0Ck ill tJi e 111id ~ I. of flu ~ IH'.(';111, j!l~f_ Jll' Oll ' lllli11 g n ho\" P. li H' \\'H\' I ~~ , Ii \' \\' Jii cJi
it if: F:iolll e t i1111 ·s ov1 ~ rllow, ~ d. a 11d , 111. 1\ie rf'fl11e11n ~ of the hillow ~. \\ ith iin11 g htv
pride bcco111cs a~ai11 \' is ibl r.. it w itli ~t.no d the co n flirt of conle11di11g elt·1n<~ 11t;.
Undau nted by d 1tlie11llie8 , rr u111 which a rnind 11 ot 1111 dc:;('l'\' ill g of rP ::::JWt't n-ntdd
in\'oluntarily ha\·c rern ilcci, w e obser\'r ir, in the progrr~~ of his lifr, ~ lrm­
ming t he c urrent of achcrsi ty , ra1h c r i11 th e pride of 1ri11mph , 1ha11 in the
In ft,Jl ow ing h im t hro11 g h I li c d ange r:; and
humili at io n of rl c~ pond e 11 cr: .
hardships whi c h he too fre qu ~ nrly had to e 11 co11n lc r, w e lllHJ obse r ve how
wonde rfully h is 111i11d ga in ed effic ie ncy hy r es istance; and, li ke an impe tuous
torre nt, o vc rlcap in g the barri e r~ of its course, w ilh re nova ted strengt h he
overwhe lrneu oppos iti on.
The nin th yea r o f the eight eenth century g:\\'e loirth to the man, wh o w:io
afterward s to become the g lor y o f hi s cou ntry, th e c hampi on of hi s langu ag e ,
and tl1c h onor and or 11 a mc 11l of lhc litera ture of hi s age . Among so me of
the biographers or Dr. J o hnson, we di scover a tl ispos iti on to indulge in
tales o r abs urdity ; asc ribin g to him a jingle of boyioh rh ymes at the age o r ·
three years , a11d le ad ing reade rs to suppose him to h:ive mo unte d hi s Pegas us
before h e wao e n ti re ly out of th e c radle. Little ~ppca rs to have b ee n known
respec tin g hi s ea rly c hildhood, a nd muc h less with regard to th e · prog ress he
made in learnin g und e r h is ear li es t teache rs, both o r w h ich were per haps of

1

Vires i11irc1111m salub re Cl'r pus;
Quad silis ess~ vehlis, nihilque mnlitis ."

MODEL OF A BOWDOIN PRIZE DISS.ERTATION .

Essay on th e Literary Character of Dr. Samuel Joh nson.

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Wh ile a n author ie l ivi ng, it is not ex traonlinary that 111a~1ki111l ~ ho1.1l1l
for m an c rroncom; cs li111a le of hi ~ works. The i11flu r. 11 cc wli~ c li ~ll't;,1111l1 cc
an d par t iality ol"r.c 11 po :-i~cH~ ~)Vl~r lh <~ .111i11d ~. of hi s c.m1 tc 111por:_nu :~, 19 1~1<:0111p a tible with a correct dcc1 s 10 11 of In s m cnts. lt 1s. 11 ot u111ol ll'.llC It.is c rface d the reco ll ection o r party foe li11 gs, whe n th ~ Vtrl.ll CS a u tl fo ibl es or the
man a r e forgotten, and the wa rm emoti ons of fr1 e11d$h_q> or rcsc 11~111 ent a re
11 0 lonrrer felt, that the merit of an aulh or c an be. fairl y :u•ce r.1a111.cd. So
v:uiahl~ is public o pini on , whi c h is ofte n fun 11 c d w11l10_11t cx: u~1111 at ion , a nd
li able t o be warpe d by cap ri ce, that works of re al 111<:rtt are lrcq1ic.11tly I.er!
for p os te rity to di scover and admire, while t~1 ; p on~ po 11s. e tl or l ? ~ f 11npc 1ll·
l he g1ga 11 t1c. g c'.n"" o r S hak ·
11 ence a n d fo lly a re the w ond e rs of the age.
spea re so fa r s urpa >sed die learni ng a nd p c ne.tra llo n .~f h os t111ws , th,~t In s
producti o ns were the n lt ~t l e rea<l and less aclm n ed.
J h e 1e .we1e .re", .w ho
could u nde r st a nd, a nd s till fowe r who could rei t• h th ~ bea 11t1 ?e; o r '.' \Hil er,
whose sty le was as va ri ous as hi s talents were s urpri s mg. I .h e 1111n:or ta l
Milton suffe re d the mortificati o n of pu blic neg lec t, a fre r h av 111 g e nri ched
the litera ture of hi s country wilh a p oem , which ha s s i1~cn bef: 11 esteemed
the m os t b ea utiful co mpos itio n in hi s lang uage ; ;_~ 1111 h rn poc t_1c.;.d tale nl 9,
which entitled him to a re putatiun the m ust e:< l ~n s 1v e a nd g r a 11ry 111 g, could
scarce ly proc ure for him , in hi s ow n t11nes, u U 1 s ll~ cll~ n aho\'~ rC ~)ntem p'? ' ~'~Y
authors who are now fo rgot te n. l q 11 ora n ce a nd 111te1est.' c m ) ,111<1 p o hl 1r,1 I
rancor, have concea le d from public notice w o rk s, winch !11? e nl1 g ht~n ~d
inte llige nce o r a fte r a ges have de li ghted to r escue from O ~J lo v t o n ; .an d If IS
no less comm on for poRle rity to forg-ct c plmmcra l prml11ct1011 H, whwh were
the admiration or the da y i11 whi ch llu •y wen~ prod 11c1:d . .
In a r e tros pect of tlic literature of. a11y age, the 111111d new!'! tl1_e n~!-l pr.r.­
tive authors as a gruup of stat ues, w in ch a c ursory g la11c_e of .the cje disr'.~\'·
ers a t a Uis tan ce; a11d alth ough, on a neare r exa m111~ll?11, ~l could admire
th e features a n<l beauti es di scuver nble in. those of a J1111111ut1v e appearance,
yet th e e ne rge ti c expressio!' a nd lo rty att itude of so~e wh~ ov:- r' '.' I' 11:':' res !,
exclusive ly attrac t our not ice a 1Hl comma oJ ~ttcnt10 11: 1 c r h .lp~ thuc has
bee n no age co 11 ccr11ing which thi s ~emark is more Jt1s tl y app\1 ca1Jle, tha n
th e eigh tee nth centu ry. In that. perwrl , n m ost nmn r rous ;~n n ~1 of ~ u t h ora
took the fi e ld, g r ea te r pe rhaps 111 number, but. not cxceed 111g 111 he ight of
s ta ture, excelle nce of skill , or brilli a nce of ac hi eveme nt, the g reat men of
the three p rece ding cen turi es
.
.
.
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In con te mplatin g- thi t-1 co llec ti on of wntr:rs, the. ntle nlton rs necessarily
withdrawn fro m th ose ove r wh om the towcr111g gen ms o f Dr . J o hn so n. seerr_1s
Lo bend, and is a ttracte d hy the co lossa l ~ tatu e which .re prcs.e nts the g 1ga nt1c
powers o f hi s mind. \ \l hc the r we r cg:m.1 the ,.:ll'l e~ y of l11 s tale nt" , the
soundn c ~s o f hi 5 judg me nt, the c~ c pth of I.u s pe n c tra t w n, the acute um;s ~ f
hi s s:-tgacity, the s ubtlc nf'ss of l11 s re a so n111~ fa c ulty , or t he . cx ~e nt of lus
kn owledge , h e is e qua lly the s uhjcct o f aston'"l1111cnt a nd adm1rat1o n •.

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no consequence; storie~ of s~ch stra~ge J?reco~ity usually carr:i: with the'.1'·
selves their own refutation. fhe earliest intelligence, upon winch we m.•y
rely, informs us, that J ohnson, while at the Litc~1field school.' ha? a sta~<l·
ing scarcely respectable. The only ta~ent by winch he ~v.a~ th~n 1~ any w1ao
.li 8 tingnishct!, was a rcmarknl.le tenacity of memory. I Ins, 1t will. bo ""01!,
w:rn of the utmost importance to him. After a preparatory course 111 cln•HI•
cal literature we find him, at the age of nineteen, entered as a commoner
in Peml>roke' College, Oxford, assisting the studies of '.' young gentlem~n,
IJy whose aid he was maintai~1ed. The perfurmanc; w~1,'c~1 first IJr~JUght l~11n
into notice was the translat10n of Pope's "Mess iah
into Latm, which
possessed 1;0 other poetical merit than purity of diction. ~ircumsla~ces
occurred, which deprived him of the only support upon wl~1ch be rehe<l;
the ~enl leman under his charge changing his plan of education. After va·

tion of Juvenal's Third Satire, to which he gave the name of" London." It
has bee n thonght, that, under the name of Thales, he addresses his friend
Savage, whose life he subsequently wrote, and with whom he had previously
passed many of his dissipated hours. Savage was n man of very great
genius, hut of nn irregular ancl clissipatccl life, from the contamination nf
which, nothing hut good principles, deep rooted, which he had early imbibed,
could have pres.erved the morals of Johnson.
If not among the most important of his efforts, th is poem, and "The
Vanity of J-lunmn \Vishes ," another sim ilar tu it, in imitation of the Tenth
Satire of Juvenal, may be esteemed among hi s most happy attempts. The
· spirit and energy with which he wrote, fully equals the poignancy of the
Roman satiri>t. Juvenal and Johnson were bolh engaged in the cause of
virtue, and the poetic fire and sarcastic severity of the imitation is well
wonhy of the original. The lines of the English author flow with all that
grace and dignity with which the Latin poet al>ounds. That he should have
written with the same ardor and• animation, is natural; and the nccmmtori~
al strain of invective in which he writes, does ample justice to the ce nsorial
department of the satir ist. It is related that Mr. Pope, after reading his
"London," ob,erved, in a llusion to the passage from Terence, which was
once applied to Milton, "Uhi, ubi est, diu celari non polest," - a remark
l"hi ch provecl truly prophetic.
· 1t iH a mcla11chnly re fl ection, that the superior talents of this eminent
wrilcr, at the age of thirty, were scarcely al>le to provide him with an in·
come adequate to his wants. Be ing bred to no profession, he was compelled to resort to his pen as a last resource. Many of his schemes in publication fail ed for want of encouragement, and others, in which he succeeded,. proved of little benefit to him. We find some of his fugitive pieces at
this time appea ring in the "Gentleman's Magazine," and among them
several very masterly touches in biographical delineation. In biography,
Johnson peculiarly excelled. The "Lives of the Poets," which he at a
much later per iod sent into the world, will remain a lasting monnment of
his genius, a11d critica l rngacity. Few, perhaps, more feelingly illustrated

rion~ discouragements, and emlmrrassrnents in his yccuniur~ res~urc~s, he
was compelled to quit the university, where his res11len~e, with little rnler·
ruption, had IJee n continued nearly three year~. Havin~ e ndeavou.rcd to
obtain the means of living by assisting at a pu.hhc .school, 111 a short t1111e.ho
relinquished nn en~ployme nl, whifh .yielded h11n hule ple~sure, and which
became the more irksome from a chsgust he had taken with the pers?n by
whom it was patronized. It was al _thi~ period, that ~ resort to lus pen
IJecame necessary for the Aupport of l11s hfe. ~ ~ranslat1.on . of a. voyage tu

1\hyssi11 ia, Uy Jerome Lobo,. a Portuguese m1ss1ona!·y, Jt 1s believed, w~s

the lirsl literary effort l>y wl11ch he allcmpted lo. raiee a revenue. I.n ~111•
production, Johnson discovers 1.m1ch of that punty and energy of d1ct1~n,
IJy which he was afte1:wards d1st111~t11~hed. An easy flow of la1'.guage! wnh
a stre ngth of expression, gave a dignity to the translated au~ho1 he chd not
naturally possess. The flexibility and harmony of the English to~gue added an importance and interest to the pe1-formance, to which, for its sub•e·
t)Uent re putation, it was muc~1 indebted. .
.
.
.
In March, 1737, Johnson, 111 company with Dav!d Garnet<, made l11s entry
into London, eac h to try his fortune on the extens11•e th.ea tre ~f the metropu·
lis. The former, hitherto the chi ld of disaster an~ d1sapporntment, deter·
mined to enlarge the spher~ in which .to crowd lus way ; and l>oth were
equally undaunted by the failure of their schemes. .
.
. .
The biographers of Johnsou arc unahl.e lo fix ~~1th ccrto.111ty the p:nod al
which the Tragedy of " Irene " was. fimsl~ed .. I hough th~re appeals som_c
evirlence of its completion prior l~ 111s arr11:al rn ~ondon, 1t was doom7rl, if
written al that time, to slumber 111 obscuri ty, u11t1l the fortune and fnentl·
ship of Garrick, who, in 1747, lx'came one of the m:magers of Drury La~1e
Theatre, enahled him to produc: it on .the stage: W, 1th respect .to the men~•
of this production, an ul>servauon wl11ch was JU<hciously apphed to A<lch·
son's "Cato," may, with equa l justice, l>e made; "It wants much .of th~t
contrivance and effect, which is best understood by those who are ski lled in
writina for the •Lage." It is , in a great measure, destitute of _that style,
and th~se incid ents, which would render it iuteresting lo an auchence; and
will much IJetLer delight a reader in the retirement of the closet, than. the
confused asseml>lage of the theau·e. The lang~iage is dignified and forc1ule,
and the seutiments worthy of its author._ L11erary m;~· " '. ho are plea~e<l
with "chill philosophy," and "unaffectrng elegance, w1~l adm1_re 1t i
readers of taste will he delighted with the beauty of some of its senl1111entP,
and many elegant paHH"A'"~ which ii .cm11.ai118, which will loug prc"on·e
it from obliviun.
Garrick, upon hcmg askc1l why he did not procl!1co
another traaedy from his Lilchlicld friend, replied, "when Johnson wnlet
tragedy, pa~sion sleeps, and decla~ation mars." Johnson himself appea~I
to have IJeen in some degree sensible. of the truth of suc.h a rem'.'rk, as th11
was his first and only allempl. Having had a run of tl11rteen nights, Irene
was never after revived.

Al>out the year l73S, we find him again invoking his muse, in an imita·

Juvenal's axiom,
"IJnml facile emergunt, quorum virtutibns obstnt
Res nngusln domi. 1:

But the independence of his spirit, a11d the native energy of his mind, rendered him little sensible to the sombre ~hades by which fortune had snr·
rouucled him .
His parliamentary speeches, which appeare1l about this time, are a model
of purity of diction, copiousness of la11g1mge, a11d flowing eloquence. In
reflec ting how scanty were the ma terials from which they were wrilten, ou r
surprise and adm iration are equally excited. His l>iographers relate, that
frequently he was only informed who were the speakers, the order in whi ch
lhey spoke, and lhe sides they took. At best, the notes which were pro·
cured were nf hut little use lo him; and it is well known, he was but once
in Parliamenl- housc fur thi s purpose. \Ve are charmed with the dignity
and energy which these speeches possess. \Vithout disparagement, some of
them may he compared to the ancient specimens of the Grecian and Roman
orators. In force of •tyle, harmony of diction, and copiousness of expres·
Fio n, they "'l""I any insta11c"s of anr.ie11t or modern eloquence.
.
Tlwre iA 11 0 view i11 which .J o h11 ~01 1 npprnu·"' lc:is ndvnntngnou~, thun n~ a
political writer. llis warmest fricncla are ready to ack11owleclge, 1lrnt his
reputation would have suffered no loss, had he never meddled with politics.
His arguments, indeerl, were ingenious; but strong prejudices and partialities gave lo his yen a direction which his understanding cou ld not approve,
and, in mome nts of cooler reflection, his conscience must have condemned.
With the sentiments of a warm tory and rigid high-churchman, his character was frec1uently exposed to much severity of aspersion; but, possessed

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377

with the ge nius and reputation of th e greatest scholar of his a ge , and the

had he b een a t firs t, as he afterwards was, convinced of the injustice of the

virtues of a man, over who m tnorality and religion had muc h inHucnce, he

cansn in which he m1gaged. The reca ntation he extorted from th e person,
wh o had thu s ill\'e igled him intu thi s infar.nous \)Ian, made honorable amends

mi ght we ll de fy the attacks of his enemies.
At about the age of forty, he commenced a work which added to his rep·
utation, and gave him, with no iucon sideruble degree of jus tice, the name of
th e lt: 11glish morali st.

.

With ve ry little ass is tance, he co mplete d, in a course of two years, the
puhlicatio11 of th e " Ramlile r," giving to the world, on stated day•, two
l"ll" "·s in a wed<. It appears, that, though tho'e essays anrnunl.e1l to l1Yo
hu11drcd and l'igltt, he rc1;civcd but ten 1m111hcrs from the pcn 13 of hi s fri end s.
The di sadvantages und e r w hi c h an a uth or la bors, in pe ri od ical pnblications,
whose fre<juency leaves littl e time for the int e rruptio ns of rec rea tion or ne·
cess ity, he has most fee lin ;;ly described. "He tha t condemns himsel f to
compose on a •lated day, will often briug to his task a n attentiou di ss ipated ,
a memo ry c mbarras:::ed, a n ima~ination ove rwhe lm e d, a mind di stracted
with anxictie~, a body langui shi11g with tli sr.asc'; he will labor on a Lanen

topic, till it is too late to chauge it; or, in the a rdor nf inve nti on, diffuse his
thoughts into wild exuberance, which the present hour ca unot suffer judg·
ment to exam ine or red uce ."
1
For de pth of moral re fl ect ion, the "Ramblers" of .J ohuson must el'er
be pree mine nt. The ethics of the ancient.• are not sto red with a more vahiahle ma sFi of moral in structio n ; anti in vain may wn search fo r the princi-

ples of the pures t philnsnphy so heantifully blended with th e love liness of
v irtue. It was not probaule that the fra ilti es or peculi a riti es of mankind
could esca pe his acute penetration, whi ch was e ve r 011 the a le rt,
u

To mRrk the nge, shoot fo11y ns it fli e~ ,
An<l catch the mann e rs living a~ lhey rise."

From a n early periorl, he had accustomed himself to a ha bit of close thinking. His ac ti ve a nd vigorous mind always firs t matured w ha t he ha d to advance, a nd hi s confidence in his assertions was owing to deductions which
r esulte d from the deepe•t reasoning.
Th e moralizing "Rambler" is always rli g nifie rl in hi • 8entime nl.s, logical
in hi s infere nces, and energetic in hi s style . Though ma ny of hi s papers
ns~mrn c a gravity which fo rbid s trining, his rema rk 9 a rc sente nti ous and
forcibl e . They do not always partake of th e snmhre s had es of melancholy,
a11d se ld om see m to partic ipa te of a cy nica l severity . Th e st ra iu of morality whi ch fl ows from hi s pen, di scovers a minrl at. time;; 1m1lc r the inflnence
of g lo11111y rc fl cct io11 8, and incli11ed to i111lulgc in I.he so l""' fo 1di11g" of a 1111111
prone to look upon the darkes t side. ln stni ction and '11blin1ity may bo
found in hi s pa pers. The majority of mankind will admire the m in the retire ment o f the closet, when the mind is inclined to seri ous ad,•ice; and the
fri ends of virtue will ever r ejo ice that the g reat lea rning of the crit ic and
scholar has so s uccessfully labored in her servi ce . The papers of the
"Idle r," and those of the " Adve nturer ," \\'rittc n by J ol111 so 11 , exhibit the
same powe rs of mind, and fowcr of hi s peculiar faults .
As a Latin poc f, he c an 011ly Lie ranked with o th e r ad111ired wri1 ers, who

a tle mpte d me trica l exce llence in a Iangunge that a ll ows no new ex press ion~.
The m os t successful writer ca11 i.lo no more than imitate the fl owe rs which
he haf-l di scove re d on cla ss ic ground, and di s play to th n world hi ~ acq11aint-

a 11ce with ilM prodncti 1111s. JI., may heat hi M111i11d with the spirit with which
th e poe ts of a ntiquity have written. li e may imbibe a porti on of tl1"ir tas te,
a nd, as far as he is able , copy their sty le. JJ.i s producti ous, in the ir Ian•
gunge, will s till fail o f o ri g ina lity, and savor of i11iita ti on.
There can be little duuht but that the affair in which .Johnson was con·
nected with Laude r, wa s always to himself a source of regret. His integrity, it may safely be presumed, would have withhold en him from giving
countenance to an attempt to injure the reputation of the immortal llfilton,

to the injured c harac te r of the poet. Th a t he iad been made a dupe to. th e
dupli c ity of the e ne my of Milton, could, in his own feelings, be but little
all eviated bv an acknowledgment of his c rime. A s he harboured ~10 malevo lence of feeling to wards thi s s ublime writ ~ r, posterity. have httl~ of
which to acc1rne him; as the be•t men may at tunes be dece1ve d, .especmlly
when the inllncnce of party ICclings li>Rters the ir prej udices, and .g ives .to the
j11d g111 ent , fo r a mnme nt, a bias, whi c h calm rellection, a nd d1 spass 1ona te
examination, a fte rwa rds perce ives, ack nowledges , and corrects.
His "English Dictionary" will long remai n a lasti ng record of the
powerful mind of Or . .Johnson. By it, he has fixed the s ta nda!·d of onr
languarre, a nd , with the most indefat igable la hor and acuteness, given precis iou to the meaning of our word s, which, hithe rto , had bee n too. mu~h
neg lected by the lexicograph ers who preceded him . He has pruned of the ir
excrescences the inde terminate 8ignilication of many term s , n_nd pla ced
in a ppropri a te gradations the flu c tua ting import of many expressions. Until hi s time, the re ha d been no author upon whose judgme nt the world seemed i111plicitly to rely; and time has since prov~d, that the stu1~<'1Hlous. labor,
and powerful tal ents of J ohnson have le ft noth111g for succeed mg lex1cogrn·
phe rs to du in dclinin!l' the English language..
.
Hi s bcnevolcht foelrngR often engaged him tn the service of m::my for w~o111
. he had little fri e nd ship, and who could lay no chum to the a•s 1stance ot . l11 s
pe n. The number of d«dications, prologues, a !1d recomm".n? a tory e ffu sions
which issned from it, in behalf of indig ent merit, or .u~asp1n11g modesty , ~t
once illus trates the kindness of his hear t, and the d1s111terested11ess of l11 s

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moti't·es.

Durin g a season , in which his mind was oppreBsed with the gloomy r efl ections of a fflicti on, occasioned by the loss of his aged mother, to who~n
he was te nrlerlv and allect ionate ly attached, it is re lated, tha t he wrote 111•
"Ra sse las ." "This elega nt spec imen of Ori e ntal imagery, '~e at·e told, was
written during th e eve nings of a s in gle week, to enabl~ him to de~·ay t~e
fun era l expe nses of hi s deceased pare nt. Perhaps there ts no prosaic efl usio n , in whic h the exuberance a nd ha rmony of our language has bee n more
artfully combined, or more full y displayed. It is here tha t ~1e di scove rs
tho•e snrpris ing powers of imagin a ti on, which were . tl~e aston1sl.11nent ~nd
admiratinn of mankind. Though the ~train of 111ornliz111g reflection, whi ch
per vad es the whole s tory, seems to partake of t.he glo9m,Y shad ~s which occas ionally overshadowed his mind , it may ye t be questioned., 1f .the world
will aga in soo n he favored with a trifle, from any pe n, in which 1t ma y be,
at the same time, more delighted and improve d.
In the poetry· nf Dr . .Johnson, if we do not di scover the ha rmony wl~ich
delights a mt1'ica l ear, we are full y compensated by a n energy of ex pression,
a lofty sty le, and a c riti cal clcg:rncc of d.icti on. The maj':'"'Y of hi s 111m1 bera rc'c1111iles th e tones of a powe rful rnstrumc nt, not di scordant Ly the
s trc n~th of their parts .
His ve rsifica tion ca nnot b oas t of an unbrok en
me lo1Jy , but hi s measures flow lik e the slow a nd solem n progress of a mighty
river, ratlll'r than like the graceful g lidings of a s ha llow s t!·ea m. . I~ he does
not t'" "css I.he s111ooth1wss of poetical n111nlicr• , the ear rn not fatignflll liy
the sa mcnc"S of hi s ,1.yJe; :111d \VO lllllY continne lo be de lighted with the
. variety a nd di gnity of hi s ex press ions, whrn we s hould . be glad to be relieved from the monoton<J11s hHmony of poets of more muB1 ca l ears.
John son had for some time been so li ci ted by hi s book selle r to undertak e
the editor ial department in a s plendid edition of the British Poets.. Thi •
wa s the last. great e ffort of his mind. His reputation needed not, at this period, an accession to give permane ncy to his fame; yet a nother laurel was
added to grace hi s brow.
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Thi • stupendous publication, which was to be compri sed in seve nty vol·
nmes, in the course of a few years was offerer! lo the world, with the live~

stud y, as bu t a secondary a ss istance to it s operations ; and, though mankind
should pla ce lint liule va lue upon hi s com mentar ies on the text, they may
justly fee l in debted for hi s de velopme nt of the geuina of S ha k speare. Jt i•
not a ma lier of wond e r, lhat lhe exqu is ite ly beauliful preface to the e dili on
of S hak , pe;u·c's plays, s hould la y c laim to such supe rla tive merit. \.Yhcthe r we regard the abundance a11d class ical selecti on of its allusions, the accuracy a nd j11sli ce of the c ri t ic ism• , or its jus t appreciation of the exce llences and defec ls of the poet, it is equa lly th e subj ect of admiration.
Th e lite rary character of D r . Johnso n, may, perhaps, r eceive illustration
by examining hi s li fe, as well as by c riti cizing his writings. That prejudice
s houl d ham fonnd no place in a mind of • nch astoni shing e nergy, would
scc m as wonde rful as it mu st have been rnrc . It woul d seem equally" s trange,
if hi " a 11ti pa1 hies were no t someti me• ma nifes ted in the hea t of pass ion, or
in the ardor of debate. The Scotch a nd Disse nters , the schola rs of Camhridge, a nd the \Vhigs, were ofte n mentioned with more acrimony than discre ti on. Th ere wa s, pe rlmps, no man who more stre nuous ly ad v.ocated the
pr in c iples of s uhordina t ion , and fow who di • played the m lcB8 in pra c tice .
The lc111pers uf men a re more nnde r the influence of externa l c ircum stances
than mora l writers in general a re d isposed to a llow. Dr. J ohn son too severe ly fe lt th e weight of disappointment a nd penury in his ea rly years. At
a late r pe riod, he was gratified by app la use a nd uni versal ad ul a ti on. Can
il lie wu1ul erfnl , then, that, with the stro11g fee lings of vigorous passions, and

o f eac h a uthor pre fixed, co ntaining c riti ca l observati ons on the ir writings.

Thr"" prefaces were afterwanls republi • ltcd in fonr separate volumes, to
which was given the title or J ohnson 's "Lives of lhc l'oe ts ." It is here
1hat the philosophical t:d en ls of this great 111an we re fnll y deve lopc <l. If a
vigorous lm de rstanding , a sound judg ment, a scrutin iz ing penetration, com~
prc hensive know ledge, a nd a discriminating sagacity, were qualifications for
• nch an undertaking, it would have been dillicult lo di scover an individual
whose nativ e energy of mind, and critical talen ts , more pecu li ar ly fitted him,
than J ohnso n. He posses•ed the ability lo di scern , the judgment to comme nd, a nd the taste lo adm ire the excelle nces of his authors, while, at the
sa me 1i111e, he had the independence lo cornle mn th e ir failin gs, even should
hi s a nim adversions be in opposi ti on to public opini on. The man who would
sin g ly di spute the admirati on of his contempora ri es, chooses for himself a
ha zardous undertaking . But the mind of J ohn so n did not deig n to stoop to
vulgar prejudices, and hi s nohle11ess of s pir it Rpurncd al opposing the die·
laleo o r truth a11d so und jud gmen t, th ough e rror was popular in the best of
company . \Vhen we compare the decis ion of h is c riti c isms with the rules
of tas te , a nd the learne d Institutes of A ri stotle a 1HI Quimilian, we are
irres is tibly compe llerl to revere his op ini ons. Th e "Lives of the English
l'oe ts" may justly be cons ide red as 1he noblest Rpec imen of e legant and
so lid cr iti c ism which any age has produce d. It is, ho weve r , a malter of surpri se , that he should have included many in hi s li st or English Poets, who
are much less en titled to this distinction, than ot hers, who are om iued . In
a ll hi s work he gives no excuse for excludin g the admired a uthor of the
Fairy IJ,uee n.
II is e ne 111i cs accuse him of writing, in hi s li fe o f Milton, with a mind
wa rped by unmanly prejudice, and minglin g the fee lin gs of party sp irit anti
bigotry in hi s de lin ea tion of the poet . If he has not bestowed the just
mee d of panegyr ic as the biographer of Milton, a ll mus t a llo w that he has
done him amp le just ice as hi s commenta tor. H ie cri tic ism of "Paradise
Los t" would have done honor to a ny pe n. As that poe m is a prod uc tion
w hi c h the gen ius of Milton only could have produced, so the criticism cf
J ol111rnn is such as only J olrnso n coul d have writte n.
Hi s "Life of P ope" is a masterly effort of acute judgment a nd critical
sk ill. He wa s, perhaps, as justly ab le t o estimate the gen ius and poetical
tale nts of that Eng li sh bard , as a ny man li vi ng. F ri endship had induced
hi111 to write the "L ife of Savage," whi ch is prized as one or the fin est
pi eces of hingn• phy now exta nt. Hi s othel' li ves lllOl'e or less pal'take or
the oe nius o f a writer , who, fo r nervous e lcga 11 ce and justnr.ss o f :-:ent im ~n t,

has ~carce ly a competitor. His two prefa ces , th e one lo hi s "English Di ctio na ry," the othe r to an edition of Shakspeare, whi ch was published

unde r hi s s upe rinte ndence , will long rema in the as lon is hm e 11l a nd admira ..
r.inn of ma nkind. Few write rs hare obtaine d any approach to compet ition

wi th these pi eces.

Though enti re ly dilleren t in th e ir subjer.t, lhe same closene n :ous stre ng th, and di g11it y of sty le, in
eac h a re eq nally co nspicuous. Neve r had a n esti111 a le of the ge niu s ancl
111crits of S hakspeare been g iven to the world, to whi ch it woultl have been
sa fP. 1.0 yit: ld i111pli c il credence. Tim l r11lh waB, no <>Ill! had pe1 fo ctly 11rnler~l.11od 111111 .
I le lhn !W li ght 11p1111 p:1rlH of' Iii ~ d1ar:t1:1f ·r , w\iid1 Jiad ll4 !VU I'
l w l ~, l'f ~ l1ct• 111 •x p11 !-1od tu ,, j4:w.
l .t:antc cl i11V(' t-1 li ~:i 1i11111 : 11al1l cd .l o l11 1Ho11 lo tll!C''
hi s a11Ll111r i11 a11 a ~ p cc l wh ic h prc \•iu11rl co 11111u:11l:iturs had e ither never
11 ot iccd, or uc ve r had the •agaei ty lo di >ce rn. H e co mpa res hi s perfor111a111:cs wi th the nll es wh ic h the genius of an tiquity had discovered and ilhlA·
tra tccl, and not wilh th e prejudice' of 111 odcrn urroga11ce a nd imbecility.
n e.~s o f thoug ht, purity of di c ti on,

Il e ~a"e th e most ex alte d comm enda ti on to a mind, w hose intuitive intelli-

gence rendered the laboriuu,; a<'quirc111c11t vf know ledge, a nd the culture of

!he

co 111111 o n. failin gs ~f

human nature,, _h e should, a l times,

!3e

carr ied away

conve rsa ti on, and 111 lmsty compos1uons, farther than lu s maturer judgrnen l would sa uc li on, or the better foel ings of hi s heart ap11rove. There
were few me n whose enlloquial powers could give more rlelight to those
arou nd hi111 , and scarcely another whose in sulted feelings were more aw fully
dread ed. Th ough he might not pass for a scientific scholar, the world can
have. lilt!? reas~ n lo clo1_ihl t he exte nt of hi s lea rning,, or the unbounded range
of Ill s 11ilnrmallon. H 1s des ultory manne l' 9f read rng ma de his knowledge
mor e comp rehensive than minul e; and hi s quickness of percepti on gave him
a n ~slon i s hin g facility in grasping th e id eas of an a~1lh o r without tiring hi s
pa ti e nce hy perus111g a whole book. His extraordrna ry powers of understanding were much cultivated by s tndv, an d still more bv reflection . The
accuracy of his obsen>ations, and the justness o f hi s remark s, were the result of mature deliberation, anrl depth of meditation before he uttered his
senti men ts ; and hi s memory furni shed him with an inexhaustible fund, from
which hi s reason ings wer e ass isted and e nforced . The aptness of hi s illustrati ons wa s a stro ng ev id ence of the sagacity of hi s perceptions and the
soundneRs or hi s judgme nL His obRerva lion s. rece_ived ~d dition;I weight
from the loudness of his voi ce , and the solemnity w ith wl11 ch they wer e de livered. T he sophistry of an antagnn iRl a lways fell a prey to the pi er c in g
glance of l11 s penetrati.on; and he beca me th e more e lated by triumph whe n
hi s.o pp?nc11ls_ had hecn mos t decided . The gr eat.ori gina lity whi~h appear ed Ill hi s w nt111gs, res 11lted from an acllv lty of mind, whi ch hab it had acc11 sto1.11ed to r easo n wi.Lh prec ision. _Hi s co ncep ti ons of things Rp r a ng not
f1ym id le lh ou~ht, or 1~ do l ent re fl ec l10n, but from tl'.e k~en energ ies of a
v1goro11s .'nte llec t, a~s '. s t ed. by the_ e ffort s · ? f a so~rmg imag ination. His
Ill

co 11 vcrsatw 11 was s tnkrng, mtcrcsl m g, a11d rn stru c l1ve , and req uire d no cx -

Nlio11 lo lir: 111ulcrstond fr om the per•pic 11i ty and for ce of hi s re mark"; a 11 d hi "
r.1·:i l for Llil' i1111 ~rci-;I~ of n :li g-io11 111111 vir1t10 WllH 11fw11 1111111i foA tt•d iu hi ~

1·011r:-:1:.

di . : -

I lo wa s rn< p(!l'I. 111. 11rg11111c11l11tio11, 1111d t.lw Hc hunlH of dPcla111nti o 11

r~ rnld not Lua s l o f a more s ul 1.tle rc.aso 11 c r~ or a m ore Rrlful ~op hi ~ t , w he n hi s

side was a l.J;'.d one; fo r he ofte n d isputed as much for the sa ke of vi c tory as
of lrulh. .I I 1s answe rs. w:-re s_o power ful, that few dared to engage with
l11m . U n1verna ! sub1111 i;s 1on, It 1s lik e ly, gave an appa re nt dogmatism
whi ch he oth erwi se m1ghl n o ~ have posseRserl. If th ere was a n asriec t of
ha rsh scven iy 111 l11 s retorts, 11 s houl d he remembe re d, how fre<1uently they

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were provnked, hy the insults of impertinence, and the conceit of ignorance.
'J'he ~pccious garb of 1lissimnlation he 'li r;;pi sed.

A nohl'! spirit of imJe.-

pende ncc actuate1l his dcmeanpr. He did nnl violate the integr ity of hi•
foeling s by stooping to gratify the pride of rank, whe n unaccompanied by a
superiority of int ellect commensurate with its di gnity . lli s ull er abhorrence of flattery :11111 adulation lost hirn that patronage of the g-rcat, which
he otherwise mi ght probably sooner have :u:qnircd; and he rose to eminence
rather by the tmassisted cfli>l'ls of his own g:eni113, than the cn couragemenle
of the ri ch and th e learned. IIe was little ind e bted 1.0 I.he a8' islance of hi•
fri end s for hi s great reputation. The irres is tible energy of his character
carried him through all hi s ditliculties wit.h an unbroken sp irit, and a n unblemished fame. If he paid not his court to the noble, it was not from disrespect to the subordinations of rank in soc iety, but a di slike to the arts of
di ss imulation, and an aversion to the degradation of sc ience at the shrine of
patronage. His sarcastic letter to the Earl of Chesterfie ld is a nohle
•pccimcn of hi• independence of spirit, mul his co nte mpt of the se nile art~
of adulation. It is a fe eling cxp•isition of the hanl shipH he haJ endured,
until royal munificence placed him Leyond the boundaries of want, and
smoothed his descent to the grave .
Hi s knowledge of the Greek language, in comparison with hi s acqnaiutauce with the Latin, was superficial. In hi s ea rly years , he had del'oterl
himself so cloRely t.o th e study of lhe ancie nt poets, that it may he questioned, if hi R familiarity with Lh e m i11 his own tim es coulll (ind a su1wri or.
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supply the deficiency of the Roman language, and that the "great and comprehens ive conceptions of J ohnson could not easily Le expressed liy common wo rd s. ,,

Should it he thou ght that the style of this learned author has injured our
language, he must ha\'e committed this injury Ly makinu it more subordinate
lo gran1111atical rules. Foreigners, and future gener~tious, will be more
capabl e of understanding it, si nce he has exclud ed expressions which are
only to he found in colloquial intercourse, a nd vulgar phrascolo!]Y· From
ho s ex :11npl1" men may learn to give to the ir style energy, perspicuity, and
elegance. They may acquire a habit of close thinking, and Lecome accustomed to exp ress their ideas with force and prec is i.:;n.
His politi ca l writings will be rea d and admired only for the dignity and
energ-y of their sty le. His composition s are a most valuable addition to the
literature of his country, and will confer a lasting reputation to hi s name.
Th ey arc rcpl elc with "useful instruction, and elegant entertainment," anti
liY. l"'rus ing: the.no m:~nkind may advnncc in know ledge. and vi~·tue . . '.l'hc
c ll 11 r1 s of ho " mmd di scover a life of study anti rned1tat1011. IJ1s wnt111ns
di splay a gc11i11s cnltivated with industry, and qnick e ncd by exertion . H1s
multifari ous productions are an honor to the English nation; and hi s answer
to hi s so •·ereign mi ght more fairly be a llowed , "that he had written his
share ," if he had n ot written so well. His mind has been laid open to the
publi c in hi s printe d work ~ , without "rese rvation o r disguise"; and with
all hi " i'a11lts and failiugs, he is still the admiration of mankind.

dec isive dl' nt111ciations against the genui11e11css of O ss ian's por:m s created
him many opponents, upon a subject, respecting which, " truth had never

been established, or fallacy detected."
.
It is not a little strange , that, in many in stances, the biographers of Johnson hav e appeared lik e enemies. It may, how e•·e r, Le observed, that few
men could hilve stood the ordeal to which the minuteness of Boswe ll exposed
him, with so much honor to the re putation of the ir heart and their head.
Thi s mighty Ca liban of lit era ture is here stripped of e very disguise, and
held up to public view. Though the world has bee n deli ghted and improved
Ly the record of his conversation, in which his learning, his genius, and hi•
undi suuised sen tim ents have so conspicuously shone forth, it cann ot but be
allow~d, that it is informed of much, which it was not important, and, perha ps, was oot proper for it to know; and that the color ing , whi ch the painter has gi ven to hi s portrait, will ndmit of many different shades, from which
th e partiali1y of fricnd , hip Hhould have ~narded hi s pencil. It is here,
how c \ic r, that

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may tra ce

llic

i11crcdih\t!

v;i:;LllP.RH or :HI

i11leilect, dc slinctf

lo licco n1c the glory of hi" conntry, nnrl the pride of En gli"h lii.craturc.
\Ve may co1;template the gigantic powers of John son's mind with feeling•
s imilar to those sublime emotions with which we view the boundle<s expanse of the ocean, fathomless to human rneasnrement, and who•e cnpacity
exceeds our c:onr.eption. In his writinga:, appears m ore conspicuomdy than
in hi~ co nversa tion, the compass and extent o f hi s und e rstanding. .His fac.
ulti es w e re vigorous, hi s curiosity and a" i<lity for knowledge in snt iable and
tmlimit.ed, his mind vehement and ardent, th e co111hina tiuns of his fancy
variou~ and original, nnd his imagination neith er cloud ed or depresse<l Uy

th e di sc ipline of sturly, or the mi sfortunes of life. Hi s reade rs are delighted
and a "toni shcd at the wonderful beant.y of his c1J nccptions , and the depth of
rr.llcction which his opinions diocover. In hi s st.yle , he is di gnified and
for c ible, in his lang11ag<·, e lega nt and copiuw;.

I le givcA to C\lc ry word i1s

true meaning, and its illustrati•'e purport. II is epithets arc used with jmlg111Pnt and di sc rimination.
l~,·cry thing which he ~ ayi:; ha s a determinate

LESSON LXXV.
ON

THE 'coMPOSITION

OF A SERMON.•

On the Choice of Texts.
are, in general, five parts of a sermon: the cxordium, the
connexion, th e divis ion, the di scussion, and the nppli cn tion; but as
connexion an d division are parts which ought to be extrt-' mely ~hort,
we can properly reckon only three parts; exordium, di sc uss ion, nncl
application. llow ever, we will just take notice of connexion and diviHio11 ai'ter we have spoken n little on lhc choice of te xts, nnd a few
general ru Jes of di scussing the m .
I. N eve r choose s u c h texts ns have not complete sense; for only
impe rtin en t and foolish people will attempt to preach from one or
two words, which s ignify nothing.
2 Nol only words which hav e a complete sense of th e mselv es must
UP. taken, Lut th ey must also include th e complete sense of the writer,
whose words they are; for it is hi s la ng uage , nnd they are his sentinlf'nts which you ex plain . For examp le, s hould you tak e these words
of ~ Cor. 1 : :!. "Blessed be God, th e Fath e r of our Lord J esus
C l:ri • t, the Fath e r nf merc ies, n nd th e God of nil co mfiirt," and stop
l11' re, yon will in c lude n. cnmplet.c scnsP; Lut it would not he the
Apos ll e" s se nse . 8houltl you go farth e r , and add" who co mforle th us
in a ll ou i- tribul ation ," it would n ot then Le the complete sense of St.
TH ERE

ti ~ns. If he introduces hard words, their pecu liar adapta tion to hi s meanin g should atone for his ~ ramliloquism. It should also be remembered, t.hat
Cicero introduced Greek terms when treating upon learned eulijects, to

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sirTnilica 11cy, and hi ~ words conv ey no more than the imporl of hi s conce p-

• Th em directions an d rem arks are taken fr om H annam's "Pulpit Assistant. " The student will also find much aid from Gresley's "Treatise on
Preac hing."

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Paul, nor would his meaning be wholly taken in, unless you went to
the end of the fourth verse. When the complete sense of the sacred
writer is taken, you may stop; for there are few texts in Scripture,
which do not afford matter sufficient for a sermon, and it is equally
inconv e nient to take too much text or loo little; both extremes must
be avoided.
General rules of scrrnons. l. A sermon should clearly and purely
explain a text, make the sense easily to be compre hen<led, and place
things before the people's eyes, so that they may be understood without difficulty . This rule condemns embarrassment and obscurity, the
most disagreeable thing in the world in a gospe l pulpit. It ought to
be remembered, that the greatest part of the heare rs are simple people, whose profit, however, must be nimed at in preaching : but it is
impossible to edify them, unless you be very clear. Bishop Burnett
says, "a preacher is to fancy himself as in the room of the most unlearn ed man in the whole parish, nnd must therefore put snch pnrtA of
his discourses as he would have all understand, in so plain a form of
words, that it may not be beyond the meanest of them. This he will
certainly study to do if his des ire be to edify the m, rather than lo
make them admire himself as a learn ed and high spoken man."
2. A sermon must give the entire sense of the whole text, in order
to which it must be considered in every view. This rule condemns
dry and barren explications, wherein the preacher discovers neither
study nor invention, and leaves unsaid a great number of beautiful
things with which his text might have furnished him . In matters of
religion and piety, not to edify much is lo destroy much; and a ser·
mon cold and poor, will do more mischief in an hour, than a hundred
rich sermons can do good.
3. The preacher must be wise, in opposition to those impertinent
people who utter jests, comical comparisons, quirks, and extravagances; sober, in opposition to those rash spirits who would penetrate
all, and curiously dive into mysteries beyond the bounds of modesty;
chaste, in opposition to those bold and imprudent geniuses who are
not ashamed of saying many things which produce unclean ideas in
the mind.
4 . A preacher must be simple and grave. Simple, speaking thi"ngs
of goo<l natural sense, without metaphysical speculations ; grnve,
because all sorts of vulgar and proverbial sayings ought to be avoided.
The pulpit is the seat of good natural sense, and the good sense of
good men .
5. The understanding must be informed, but in a manner, however,
which affects the heart; either to comfort the hearers, or to excite
them to acts of piety, repentance, or holiness.
6. One of the most important precepts for the discussion of a text,
and the composition of a sermon, is·, above all things to avoid excess: 1. There must not be too much genius. I mean, not too many
brilliant, sparkling, and shining things: for they would produce very
lnul Plfoct.s. Tiu? auditor will 11ever fail lo say," The man prc•n.clwN
himself, aims lo display his gen ins, nnd is not animated by the Spirit
of God, hut by that of the world ."
2. A Se rmon must not be overcharged with ,doctrine, because the
hearers' memori es cannot retain it all; and by aiming lo keep nil,
they will lose all. Take care, then, not to charge your sermon with
too much mat.ler.

· 3. Care must also be taken never to strain any particular part,
either in attempting to exhaust it, or to penetrate too far into it. Frequently in attempting it, you will distil the subject till it evaporates.
4 . Figures must not be overstrained. This is done by stretching
metaphor into allegory, or by carrying a parallel too far . A metaphor
is changed into an allt'gory when a numbe r of things are heaped up,
which agree to the subject in keeping close to the metaphor. Allegories may sometimes be used very agreeably: but they must not be
strained : that is, all that can be said of them must not be said.
5 . Reasoning must not be carried too far . This may be done many
ways; either by long trains of reasons, composed of a number of
propositions chained together, or principles and consequences, which
way of reasoning is embarrassing and painful lo the auditor. The
mind of man loves to be conducted in a more smooth and easy way.
Of connexion. -The connexion is the relation of your text to the
foregoing or following verses. To find this, consider the scope of the
discourse, and consult commentators; particularly exercise your own
good sense.
Whe n the coherence will furnish any agreeable considerations for
the illustrations of the text, they must be put in the discussion; and
they will very often hnppen. Sometimes, also, you may draw thence
an exordium: in such a case, the exordium and connexion will be
confou n.d ed together.
Of division. - Division in general ought lo be restrained to a small
number of parts; they should never exceed four or five al the most;
the most admired sermons have only two or three parts.
There are two sorts of divisions which we may very properly
make; the first, which is the most common, is the division of the
text into its parts : the other is of the discourse, or sermon itself,
which is made on the text.
1. This method is proper when a prophecy of the Old Testament is
handled; for, generally, the understanding of these prophecies depends on many general considerations, which by exposing and refutin¥, false senses, open a way to the true explication.
2. This method is also proper on a text taken from a dispute, the
underslandin~ of which must depend on the state of the question,
the hypothesis of adversaries, and t.he principles of the inspired
writers. All these lights are previously necessary; and they can only
be given by general considerations; for example, Rom. iii. 28. " We
conclude that a man is justified by faith without the deeds of the
law.'' Some general considerations must precede, which clear up
the slate of the question between St. Paul and the Jews, touching
justification, which mark the hypothesis of the Jews upon that subject, and which discover the true principle which St. Paul would
establish; so that in the end, the text may be clearly understood.
3. This method also is proper in a conclusion drawn from a long
preceding discourse; as for example, Rom. v. l. "Therefore being
justified uy faith, we have pence with God, through our Lord Jesus
Christ ." The discourse must be dividr<l into two purls; the lirst
consisting of some general considerations on the doclnne of justification, which St. Paul estaulishes in the preceding chapters; and the
second of his conclusion, that, being thus justified, we have peace
with God, &c.
The same may be said of the first verse of the eighth of Romans ;
"Them is, therefore, now no condemnation," &c., for it is a consequence drawn from what he had been establishing before.

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4. Th e same method is prope r for te xts which are quoted i~ the
New T estam ent from the Old. You mnst prove by general considerations th at th e text is properly produ ce d, and thr n . you. may con:ie
c lea rly to its ex plication. Of this kind are. 1-l e brews J. f>? h . ., " ,l w~!l
he to hi111 a Father," &c. "011c in a. ccrtam pl ace l.1•Hl.1fl<'<i , &.c., 11.
H. "Whcreli>rc as tlic ll oly Ghost sa ith, " &c ., iii . 7'. There nm
many passagPs of this kind in th e Ne.w. T est.arne nl:
G. ln thi s c lass mu st be placed divi stons rnto d1ff<:·r c nt regards, or
diffow11l vi ewH. Th ese , to s peak properly, arc not di visions of a.text
into its parts, but rather different a pplications, whieh are made of the
same te xts to divers subj ects. T ypical tex ts should be divided thus;
and a great number of passages in the Psalms, whi ch re late not only
to Dav' id, but also to Je sus Christ; such should be co nside red first
literally, us th ey relate to David; and then in the my stica l sense, as
they refe r lo the L ord J es us.
.
.
. .
There are also ly pica! passages, whic h, besides th e ir literal. se nse,
have also fi g urativ e meanings, relating not on.ly to .Jesus C hn st, but
also to the c hurch in g'meral, and to e ve ry belwv e r 111 parti cular.
For exa mpl e , ~)an. ix. 7 ; 0 Lord, ri g htco ns,i:ess hrd o11geth t~ th~ e ,
but unto us co nfusion of face as at tin s day; nin sl not hP di v1dl'd
i11to parts , but considered in difle rcnt :' i e w~: 1. in n•gard _l<',all mPn
in gene ml. 2. In rega rd to the Jewi sh Church 111 Daniels tun e.
;3. ln regard lo onrse l ves al thi s prese nt day.
So a<Tain H eb. iii. 7, 8. "To.day if ye will hea r his voice,"
which i~ talrnn fr om Psalm xcv cannot be bette r divided than by
re ferring it -1. To David's lime. 2. St. Paul 's. And lastly, to our
own.
As to the division of the text itself, sometimes the order of the
word s is so clear and natural, that no division is necessary, you need
·only follow simply the order of the words. As for example , Eph . i. 3.
"Blessed be the God and Fathe r of our Lord J esus Christ who hath
blessed us with all spiritual bless ings in hea.ve nly places _i~ Christ."
It is not n ecessary to divide this text, because the words d1v1d e themselves and to explain th em we need onlv to follow th e m. Here is n
gratef:11 ackn owledgment. "Illesse d be God. " The title under
which the A post le blesses God, "The F'athe r of our Lord Jesus
Christ." Th e reason for which he hl esses him , because" he hn.th
blesse d us ." Th e pl e nlitude of this bless in g, "with all bl essings."
The nature or kind s ignified by the term spiritual. The place where
he hath bl esse d us," In heavenly places ." In whom he hath blessed
us," in Christ."
Most texts however ought to be formally divided; for which pur·
pose you mu st prin cipally have regard to th e orde r of nature, and put
that division whi c h naturally precedes, in the fir st place , and the rest
must follow, eac h in its proper order.
The re are two natural orders; one natural in regard to subjects
the mse lves; th e other natural in regard lo us .
And thou"h in ge neral you may follow which of the two oth ers
you pl ease, ye t the re are so me tex ts that dete rmi ne the divi sion ; ~R
Phil. ii. 1:3. "It is God who worketh effectually in you both to Wiii
and to do of hi s own good pleasure." There are, it is plain, three
things to be di sc nss~ d; the action of God's g ~ace 11 pon men, . " God
worke th effectually 111 you;" the effect of tl11s grace , "to will an.d
to do;" and th e spring or ·s ource of the action , according to "l11s
good pleasure." 1 think the division would not be prope r if we were

to treat, 1. Of God 's good pleasure ; 2 . Of his grace ; and 3. Of the
will and works of men .
Above nll things, in divi sion s, take care of putting any thing int.he
fir st part which supposeR the und erstanding of the second, or which
oblig<'H yo u to lrl'al of tlw Recond to rnnk e the fir st und erstood ; for,
by t.li ese mean s, you will throw yourself into great confusion, and be
obliged to mak e many tedi ous re pe titi ons . You must endeavour to
dise ngage th e one from the other 11 s we ll as you can ; and when your
parts are loo closdy connec ted with each other, place th e mos t de tached fir st, and e nd ea vour to mak e th at se rv e for a found a tion to the
exp lic ation of th e second, and the secon d to the third ; so that , at the
end of yo ur e xplication, the hea rer may at a g lance perce iv e, as it
were, a perfe ct body, a well finish ed building; for one of the gr eates t
exce ll e nces of a se rmon is , th e harmon y of its com pone nt parts ; that
th e first lead s to the sec ond, the second se rves to introduc e th e third;
that they which go before , exc ite a desire for those whi ch are to
foll ow.
When, in a tex t, th ere are several terms which nee d a parti cular
explanatinn, nnd which cannot be explained without conf'usion, or·
"'. ilho11t dividing th e tex t in to too man y parts, the n I would n ot di vid e the text. a1. all; but I would divid e th e discourse into two or
three parts; and 1 would propose , first, to explain th e te rm s , and th en
the snhjc ct itse lf.
There are many tex ts , in discussing which, it is not necessa ry to
treat of e ither subject or attribute ; but all th e discussion de pends
on th e te rm s, syncatcgoremalica ( word s, which, of themselves, s ig nify nothin g, but, in co njun ction with oth e rs, are ve ry sig nificalive) .
~'or e xampl e, J ohn iii. 16, "God so lo ve d th e world." The categorical proposition is, God lov e d th e world ; ye t , it is neitli e r necessary to in sist much upon the term Goel, nor to speak in a co mmonplace way of th e love of God; but, divid e the te xt into tw o parts;
fir st, th e g ift. whi c h God in hi s love hath made of hi s so n; se condly,
the end for whi c h he gav e him , "thnt whosoe ver believe th in him
sh ould not peri s h, but have eve rl as ting life."
The re are texts of reasoning, which are composed of an objection
and an an swe r, and th e divi sion of such is plain; for they naturally
divid e into th e objP.cti on and so luti on. As, R omans vi. J, 2, " Whnt
shall we say th e n, " &c.
. The re are so me texts of re:i.soning whi ch are e xtremely difficult to
d1v1d e, because th ey cannot be reduce d into many propositions without confu sion. As, J ohn iv . 10, "lf thou lrnewest th e gift of God,"
&c. I think it mi g- ht not be imprope r to divid e it i11to two parts,
the fir st in c ludin g th e ge nf' ral pr opos iti ons contained in th e words;
and th e seco nd , the particular appli cation of th ese to the Samaritan

384

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w o rnan .

The re are some texts which imply ma ny important truths without
expressi ng th ~ m ; and yet it will be necessary to men~ion and e nlarge ·
upon the m, e ith e r because they are useful on some rn1porlnnl occasion, or becau se they arc important of themselves. Then the text
· mny be divided into two parts, one implied, and the other expressed .
ln texts of history, divisions are easy; sometimes an action is re- lated in all its circumstances, and th en you may consider the action .
in itse lf first, and afterward the circumstances of the action.
To re nd e r a divi sion agreeable, and easy to be remembered hy the ·
hearer, endeavour lo reduce it as often ns possible to simple terms.
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ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

As to subdivisions, it is always necessary to make them, for they
very much assist the composition, and diffuse perspicuity into a dio·
course; but it is not always necessary to me ntion th em; on the con·
trary, they must be very seldom mentioned, because it will load the
hearer's mind with a multitude of particulars. '
Discussion. There are four methods of discussion . Clear subject.•
must be discussed by observation, or continued application; diflicult
and important ones by explication or proposition .
I. By Explicalion. - The difficulty is in regard lo the terms, lo the
subject, or to both.
1. Explication of Terms . -The difficulties of these arise from
three causes; either the terms do not seem to make any sense, or
they are equivocal, forming diffe rent senses; or, the sense they seem
to make, at first appears perplexed, imprnper, or contradictory; or
the meaning, though clear, may be controve rted, and is exposed to
cavil.
Propose the rnlio dubittmrli, which makes the difficulty; then
determine it as briefly as you can.
2 . Of Things - Difficult things. If the difllculty ar_ise from er·
rors, or false senses, refute and remove them; then est.abhsh the truth.
If from the intricacy of the subject itself, do not propose difllculties,
and raise objections, but enter immediately into the explication of the
matte r, and take care to arrange your ideas we ll.
3. Important things, though. clear, must be discussed by explication, because they are important.
The re are two sorts of expli'£ations; the one, simple and plnin,
n ee ds only to be proposed, and agreeably elucidated; lhe other must
be confirme d, if it speak of fact, by proofS of fact ; if of right, by
proofs of right; if of both, proofs of both. A great and important
subject, consistin g of many branches, may be reduced to a certain
number of propos itions or questions, and discussed one after the other.
N . B . Sometimes what you will have to ex plain in a text will consist of one or more simple terms; of ways of speaking peculiar to
Seri plure ; of particles called syncategorematica; and sometimes of
difThre nt propos iti ons.
] . Simple ter m~ are the divine attributes, goodness, &c., man 's
virtu es or vices, faith, hope, &c. Simple term s are either proper or
figurativ e; if figurative, give the meaning of the figure, and, without slopping long, pass on to the thing itself. S ome simple terms
must only be explained just as they relate lo the inte ntion of the
sacred author ; in a word,"explain simple term s as much as possible,
in re lation to the design of the sacred author. Sometimes the simple
t erms inn text must be discussed professe dly, in ord e r to give a clear
and full view of the subject. Sometimes, wh en th ere are many, it
mi&'ht be injudicious to treat of them separately, but beautifully to
do 1t by comparison .
2. Expression• peculiar to Scripture dC'se rve a particular e xplana·
tion, bt•cause thr.y are rich in meaning; such nR," to be in Christ,"
"corni• 1tficr C hri ~ t," &c.
Particles called synwtegore11111.lica. (snch ns none , some, all, now,
Toh en , &c.), which aug ment, or limit the mea ning of the proposition,
should be carefully examined; for ofte n the whole explication depends npon lh t> m.
3. When th e matter lo be explained in a tex t consists of a proposition, give the sense clearly; if necessary, show its importance; if
it require confirmation, confirm it.

. In all ~ases, i!lu•trnte by reasons, examples, comparisons of the subject; . their relati ons, conformities, or differences. You may du it by
~onsequ e nces; by the person, lois slate, &c., who proposes the subject; or the persons to whom it is proposed; by circumstance, time,
pl~c e , &c. Y ?u ~rny illustrate 11 proposition by its evidence or inev~d e nce. lt 1s discoverable by the light of nature, or only by revelat1011. L e t good sense choose the best topics.
. Sof!! e limes a proposition includes many truths which must be disllngu1shed; sometimes a proposition must be discu sse d in different
views_; sorneti1_nes it has different degrees, which must be remarked;
som et11nes 1t 1s .ge neral, and of. little importance ; then examine
whe ther some of its parts be not more considerable; if so they must
be discussed by a particular application.
'
1I. By observa_tion; which .is best for clear and. historical passages.
Some te xts require both explication and observation. Sometimes an
uusc rvat.i on may be made hy wny of e xr•licntion . Oh~ervnl.ions, for
th~. mos t part, oug ht lo be theo logical; historkal, philosophical, or
cnt1cal, ve ry seldom. They must not .be proposed in a scholastic
style, n or commonplace form, but in a free, ·easy, familiar manner.
llL By continual 11pplication. -This may be done without ex'j>lainmg, or making observations. !_n this manner we must principaUy manage texts _e xhortmg_ to holmess and repentance. In using
~lus me th od somel.hmg searchmg and ,powerful must be said, or better
1t should be le t alone.
. Iv: By proposition. -The texts must be reduced to two propositions at leas_t, and three or four al most, having a mutual dependence
and connexion.
This me th od opens the most extensive fi eld for discussion. In
the. former me thods· _vou a~e re ~train e d to your. text; but here your
sub,1 ec l is the matter contained rn your propos1t1on.
1:he way o~ explication*. is m~s~ proper to _give the meaning of
~cnpture; tins of systematical d1vrn1ty; and 1t bas this advantage,
1t will equally serve either theory or practice.
N . R. Thoug h th ese four ways are different from eaoh other for
many tex ts it may be necessary to use two or three and for s~me
all the fou r; the discourse has its name from the pr~vailing method
of handling it.
The conclusio_n. This ought. to. be lively and animating, full of
great and bea utiful fig~ue s . Arnung to move Christian affections.
As th e love of God, hope, zeal, repentance, self-condemnation a desire of self-correction, consolati on, admiration of eternal b~ nefits
hope o~ felicity, ?ourage, and constancy in afl.lictions, steadiness i~
templallons, _gratitud e lo God, recourse lo him by prayer, and other
such d1 s pos 1lwns.
Th e re,:~re ti.tree sorts of dispositions; the violent, tender, and elevated . lo raise these , the conclusion should be violent tender or
elevated. It may be .sometimes mixe d, it must always be' diversifled.
N. B . Let the pernmtion, or conclnsi on , be short; let it be bold
arid lov r ly. Ll'l sor11e one or more striking ideM , not nlt'nl.ionc<l in
the d1scuss1011, be reserved for this parl, and applied with vigor.
" See No. I. on the previous page,

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MODEL OF THE SKELETON OF A SERMON.

The existence of God.
Psalms xiv . J.

cc The fool hath said," - it is e~ident that none but a fool would
have said it.
The fool., a te rm in Sc ripture, si g nify ing a wi ck e d man ; on~ who
hath losl his wisdom, and right appr<o> he nsinn of G od; one dea_d m srn,
yet on e not so much void of rational faculties , as o f grace. m those
faculti es; not o ne that wants rea eon, but on e who abuses l11s re_ason.
" Said in his heart"; i.e. hfl thinks, or he doubts, or he w1 s h~s.
Thou ., hls are word3 in heaven. Ile drnes n ot ope nly publish it,
thou gi1 he dares se cre tly think it; he douuls, he wi sh~s , aud some·
time s hop es.
'
"The re is no God," - no jud ge , no one to gove r_n , re'~ ard, or pm~·
ish. Those who de ny the provide nce of God, do, 111 efl e cl, de ny.Ins
existen ce ; they strip him of~Lhat wi sdom, goodn ess, mercy, and JUStice, whi c h arc th e glory of the D e ily.
l\l e n wh o desire libe rty to cum111il works of darknc•ss, would not
only have the lights in the house dimme d, but e xliugui s he d. \Vhat
men say again st Provide nce, becau se th ey wo.nld have no ch ec k, they
would say in their hearts agamst the very existe nce of God, because
they wo uld have no judge.
.
. .
Th e exi s te n ce of G od is the foundati o n of all re li g ion. Th e whole
buildin g totlers', if the foundation be o ut, of course . We must be lieve
that he is, and that he is wh:i.l he declared hnnse lf, before we can seek
him, adore him, and lo ve him.
.
It is, th e re fore, necessary we should know why we belie ve, tl111:t our
belief be found ed 0 11 und e niable e vidence, and that we may give a
bette r rt> ason for hi s exisl.enr.e , than that we have heard our parents
and te ac he rs te ll us so. It is as much as to say, "There is no God,"
wh e n w e have no be tte r arguments than those.
That w e may be fully persuade d of, and establi shed in this truth,
endeavour,
I. To lJrinrT forward a few ob,e rvations in the de fe nce th e re of.
1. All nat~re shows th e existe nce of its .Mak e r. \Ve cann ot open
our ry es bul we di scove r this truth shine throu g h all crPa lur,es . The
whole unive rse bears th e charac te r and , ta111p o f a Firs t Cause, Ill·
finite ly wi se , infinite ly powerful. Le t us cast ':' ur et •s on th e e_~rth
which bears us, and ask, "Who laid I.he founda.llnn' Joh xxxvrn_. 4.

L e t. n s look

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••The fo ol hnth suid in his heart, there is no God."

.~

that va ~ t nrc li of" s kir~ tl1at cov.-rs u s , and

lll<]Utre,

"'Vito hath L1111s stretc hed it forth, " l saiah xi. ~I . :u. "\Vho is it
nlso who har.h fix e d so many lumin ous bodie s, with so mn c h oru e r and
re gularity ? " Job xx vi . J 3. The vari o us work s o f c reati on proclann
to us" lliR ele rnnl power and ~ndll!'ad," H.01n:urn i. ~O ; Act" xiv. Hi,
J.i; xvii . ~Ii . Evrry planl, 1·v1 ·ry al.11111, "" well :LH <'V<'ry Hl.:tr, bear
wil.IH'HH of a lkil.y.
\Vho l'Vl'I H:t\V Hl.1tl.llPH, Ill" pil'.l.llr< 'H, h11I. r.on·
cl11<ll'd tlwrl' had· bern a slal uary a11d li111n.-r ? 'vVho can ht•lwld
garm e nts , s hips , or hou ses, and nut understand the re was a weaver,
a carpPnlc r, an architect? All thin g s that are , dPmon slrate some
thino- from wh e nce they are. A man may as we ll doubt whether
ther; be a sun, whe n h e sees his beams gilding the earth, as doubt

389

whether there be a God, when he sees his works.
Psalms xix
1-G.
Th e Atheist is, th e refore, a fool, because he denies, that which every
creature in his constitution asserts; can he behold the spider's net, or
the silk-worm's well, the uee 's closets, or Lhe ant's granaries, without
acknowledging a higher being than a creature, who hath planted that
g e nius in the m' Job xxxix.; Psalms civ. 24. "The · slars fought
against Sisera," Judges v . 20. All the stars in heaven, and the dust
on earth, oppose the Al.heist.. Rornaus i. 19, 20.
2 . The dread of conscie nce is an argum e nt to convince us of this
truth. "Every one that finds m e shall slay me," G e nesis iv. 14, was
the language of Cain; and the like appreh e nsions are not seldom in
those who feel the fury of an enraged conscience. The psalmist tells
us concerning those who say in their heart, cc There is no God," that
"LIJ@'y are in fear, wh e re 110 foar is,·• Psalms !iii. 5. Their gnilly
minds invent terrors, and there by confess a Deity, whilst they de ny
it, -that there is a sovere ign Uei11g who will punish. l'nshur, who
wick edly insulted the prophet .Je remiah, had this for his reward,
" that his name should be Magor-missabib," i. e . " fear round
about," Jeremiah xx. 3, 4.
When Be lshazzar saw the handwriting, "his counte nance was ch anged," Daniel v. 6. The apostle
who Lelis us, that the re is a" law written in the hearts of men," adds,
their "con sciences also bear witness," R omans ii. 15. The natural
sting and horror of conscience are a demonstration that there is a
God to judge and punish.
The Atheist is a fool, because he useth violence to his conscience.
The operations of conscience are universal. The iron bars upon
Pharaoh 's conscience al last gave way. Exodus ix. 27.
3. Universal consent is another argument. The notion of a God is
found among all nations; it i~ the language of every country and region; the most abominable idolatry argues a Deity. All nations,
though e ver so barbarous and profligate, have confessed some God.
This universal ve rdict of mankind is no other than the voice of God,
the testimony of reason, and the language of ·nature; there is no
speech, nor tongue where this voice is not heard.
ls it not, therefore , folly for any man lo deny that which nature has
engrav e n on the minds of all~
. 4. Ex l~aordinary j_udgmenls. Wh~n a just r~ven~e follows nbommable cnrnes, especially whe n the Judgme nt is suited to the sin;
whe n t.he sin is mad e legibl" by th e inflicted judgments. "The Lord
is kn own by the judgments which he executes," Psalms ix. Hi.
H e rod Agrippa re ce iv e d the flatte ring applause of the people, and
thought hilll se lf a God; but wa.s, by the judf.menl inflicted upon him,
forced lo confoss another. Acts xii. ~l - 2::l; Judges i. 6, 7; Acls
v. 1- 10.
5 . .!Jccomplishments of prophecies. To foretell things that are future, as if ll1ey did already exist, or had existe d long ago, must be
the result of 11 min<I infinitely int.Pllicrpnt. "Show the things thnt
arc lo come hcre11ft..,r." 1Hai11h xii . '!:'!:!. "l nlll God, dcclnrimr th e
('Ill~ fro111_thc lu·gin11i11ir." lsninh xlvi. JU. Cyrus wns propheBi~d or,
Isaiah xlrv. 28 , and xiv. l, long before he was born; Alexander·s
sight of Danie l's prophecy concernin~ his victories move d him to
spare .Jerusalem. The four monarclues are plainly deciphered in
Daniel, before the fourth rose up.
That power, which foretells
things beyond the wit of man, and orders all causes to bring about

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those predictions, must be n.n infinite power ; the snme as made, sue·
tains, an d governs all things according to his plPnsure, n.nd to bring
about his own ends; and this bei ng is God. "1 am the Lord, and
th e re is none else," Isaiah xiv. 6, 7.
'What folly, th en, for any to shut their eyes , and slop their ears; to
attribute those things to blind chance, which nothin~ less than an in·
finitely wise and infinitely powerful lle ing could etlect!
II. A few obse rvations.
1. If God can be seen in creation, study the creatures; the crea·
tu res are the heralds of God's glory. " The glory of the Lord shall
endure," Psa lms civ. 3l.
The world is a sacred temple; man is introduced to contemplate
it. As grace does not destroy nature , so the book of redem ption does
not blot out the book of creation. R ead nature; uature is a friend to
truth.
~. If it be a folly t.n deny or doubt thn being of' Goel, iR it. not a folly
alHo llot to worship God, when we acl\llowlcclge hiH 1·xiHl.en ce ? "'J'o
fear God, and keep his commandments, is the wlwlP duty of man.'~
We are not reasonable if we are not religious. " Your reasonablE>
service," Romans xii. 1.
3. If it be a folly to deny the existence of God, will it not be our
wi sdom, since we acknowledge his being, often to think of him? 1t
is the black mark of a fool, " God is not in all his thoughts," Psalms
x . 4.
4. lf we believe th e beiiQ; of God, let us abhor practical Atheism.
Actions speak louder than ,Wl:>.rds.
"They professed that they knew God," Titus i. 16. M en's prac·
tices are th e bes t ind exes to _their principles. "Let your light shine
before men," l\1atthew v. 16. · ,

- th ere is sornt>thing for us to do, - prayer is one reason of it. Nothin g otherwise. - Farmer. - Mec hanic,-health by medicine.
1V. J\ pplicahility of the tex t to all the poor unfortunate, - stran·
ger, - wi dow, - orphan, - mourner, - Christian in temptation, quality of all, a guilty conscience.

The following Skeletons are on a different plan.
1.
. Psalm x!~i. 1, "God is our refuge and strength, a very present help
111 trouble.
Sorrow is our common .lot, many seem to know little of it, the wid·
ow, fat.hC'rl f'ss, &c.; text nPeds no expla.nation.
I. The wou<lerfol co nclcscc nsion of Uod in assuming- this character
towards man, - not, however, according to the usual reason ing, man's greatness,- his progressive faculties will eq ual an ge ls, &c.
Surpass all intelligence except God, - but th ere will still be an
infi11itP distance between God and man, - Man 's moral estate;
th ese the reasons.
II. The e mphasis of the text, - prcse.itt, r,cry J>rcsent, - our mechanical hab its, - the divine presence not realized, - a man first
awakened or convicted feels it; - but soon is lost, - suppose a pure
and holy being were present at yonr sins, - as an angel, - but Goo
is presen t! See the Christian in a storm a t sea; - hearing the crash,
indulging sin. Objection to th e infinite G od's caring for man,- all worlds parti·
cles of sand. - How should this thou ght affect us, - Mother! Jesus
stood at the coffin of thy infant- child, at th e grave of thy parents!
l le is with thr.e. Shall we weep and repine e ven in a ganet, when
Uod is with us?
111. Cautiousness, of the text. - H e is a help, - not sole deliverer,

2.
Rev . vii. 17, "God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes."
Context . - Nature and probable design of these prophecies . I. Atliictions in the prese nt state of the Christian, an important and
advantageous part of his moral disciplin e. 1. The fact that they are
pern1itted,,.i10ws they are advantageous. - How many instances, tex ts.
2. They afford e xercise for our Christian virtues, moral, -fortitude,
patie ncr>, rf•si~rmtion.
:1. 'l'l11•y Hh11w "" tho fulilit.y of worldly comforts,- our friends 1lie,
- health aud beauty fade, - wenlth nn<l plcnsurn must be It.fl Ld1iud
us.
IL This di scipline is preparatory to another which shall be exempt
from afHiction .
l. Th e Scriptures assert the existence of such a place called heaven,
Kingdnlfl of God, Paradise , New Jerusalem, &c. It is implied in the
doctrine or i1111nortality.
~ . It ie con,istent with all rational supposition. -- Analogy between
this world and other planets. -3. All causes of sorrow shall cease
there . - 4 . lt is everlasting in its duration. -

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Do I ad dress the mourner who has lost friends, estate, health ?the aged ?- youth declining in early life? &c.
3.
Gal. iii . 18, "But it is good to be zealously affected alw~ys in a
good thing.
Christianity is designed to call into activity the noblest sentiments
of the heart, - firm resolve, - intrepid daring and undaunted perse·
veran cP, - zral. -The Christian's life is a holy warfare, - a holy
chivalry. -The Apostle lays down the prr>position thnt if nny thing
is good, it is good to be 1.ealously a.fleeted in that good cause, - Chris·
ti anity is good considered,
J. ln respec t to its origin, - di vine, - bears its marks, - it is inter·
esting to contemplate nature, - but much more revelation, - the no·
blest gift of Uod to man. II. In its nature, -its theory of doc trines,- its code of moral
rul es was neve r equalled by l. Philosop hy , - 2. Education, - all
i1n provemen t has failed without it. - Its nature renders it efficient in
its effects, - its preservation, - triumph over infidelity. I I I. Its e ff11cts, - individual effects. - 1. Benevolence,-2. Death,
- :1. l'e:ice of conscience.
2. General eftects, 1. It prevents crime. 2. Elevates society.
3. Sustains good government. 4. War.
\Ve sh ou ld be zealous, l. Beca use God commands us to be so,
2. The wants of the world call for it. 3. Our happiness he reafler
will be proportioned to our zeal, - a philosophical as well as Scriptural
fact. 4. "Ve hav e high examples to copy, - the apostles, martyrs,
and reformers,- Wesley, Whitefield, &c.

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ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

A LIST OF SUBJECTS SUGGESTED FOR 'rHEMES, ESSAYS,

CONFERENCl!:S, COLLOQUYS, DISCUSSIONS, DISQUlSI'l'JONS,
ORA'l'JONS, POEMS, DESCltll'TlONS, NA ilRATIONS, &c.
]))S~Ell'J'A'l'LONS,

l. On Attention.
2. " Adve rsity.
3. " Affectation.
4. " Affection, parental.
5. " Ardor of mind.
(j
" Art.
7. " Attachment, local.
8. " Autumn .
9. " Anger.
10. " Air.
11 · " Admiration .
12. " Benevolence.
13.
Bea u ty.
14. " Beauties of Natu re.
15. " Biography.
16. " Bad scholar.
17. " C harity.
18. " Chastity.
19. " Clemency.
20.
Compassion.
" Conscience.
Constancy .
" Courage.
Cruelty.
Carlessness.
"
26. " Curiosity .
27. " Control of the passions.
28. " Control of the temper.
2\J. " Cheerfulness.
3U. " Contentment.
31. " Calumny.
32. " Candor.
33 . " Cu n ning.
34. " Di ligence.
35. " D isinterestedness.
36. " D isease.
37. " Duplicity.
38. " Disobedience.
39. " Dissipation.
40. " Education.
41. " E<1uity.
'12. " }!;arl y impressions.
43. " Early rising.
44 . " Envy.
45. " Evening.
4(;.
" Extravagance.
47. " Eagerness.

"

"

48. On Formality.
49. " Friendship.
50. " Fortune.
51.
Faith, religous.
52. " Failh, publick.
53. " Faith, priva te.
54. " Fear.
55.
Flattery.
56. " Forgiveness.
57. " Fidelity.
58. " Government.
5f). " Gaming.
GU. " Generosity.
61. " Grammar .
62. " Good scholar.
63. " Geography.
64. " Grandeur.
65. " Grea tness.
6G. " Genius.
67· " Hab it.
68. " Honor.
69. " Honesty.
70.
Happiness.
71. " Humanity.
72. " Humility.
73. " Hypocrisy.
74. " History.
75. " Hope.
7G. " Jndole nce.
77. " Indulgence .
78.
Incontinence.
79. " Ind ustry.
80.
I ngratitude.
81.
Justice.
82. " J ealousy.
83. " J oy.
84. " Kindness .
85. " Learning.
86. " Li terature.
87. " Love.
88. " Love of fame.
8!J. " Lux ury .
!JU. " Modesty.
91. " Magnanimity .
!J2. " Music.
93. " . Morning.
94.
Moon.

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95. On Melancholy.
96. " Novelty.
97. " Nobil ity . .
98. " Negligence.
!J!J. " Night.
100.,J' Noise.
101. " Noon.
1U2. " Ordn.
103. " O rder of nature.
104. " Oddity.
105. " Obedience.
106. " Obstinacy.
J•.>7. " Ocean.
108. " !'ride.
JO!). " Purity of manners.
110. " Purity of thoughts.
11 l.
" Power of conscience.
])2. " Power of resolution.
1 13. " Poverty.
114.
Principle.
1 15. " Patie nce.
116. " Prudence.
J 17. " Perseve rance.
118. " Patriotism .
lHJ. " Pol itenes3.
120. " Prodigality.
12l. " Providence.
122. " Punr- luality.
123. " Poetry.
124. " Precocity.
125. " Piety.
126. " Pitv .
127. " Quarrel ling.
128. " Qu ie tnpss.
129. " Reli gion .
130. " Rashness.
131.
llesolution.
J:\2, " llellection.
1:n. " [Revenge.
134. " Regular ity.
135. " Rhetoric .
I !JG. " !leading.
1!37. " Rese ntme nt.
138. " Since rity.

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182.

JS:J.
J81 .
H:l5.
Jl:!li.

JH7.
lti8.
189.

139.
140.
141.
142.
143.
144.
145.
146.
147.
148.
149.
150.
151.
152.
153.
154.
155.
156.
.157.
158.
159.
160.
161.
1G2.
163.
164.
165.
166.
167.
168.
169.
170.
171.
172.
173.
174.
175.
176.
177.
178.
179.
180 ..
181.

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393

On Sublimity.
ickness.
" SSummer.
" Spring.
" Starry heavens.
"
" Sun.
" Self-governme nt .
" System.
" Tru th.
" TastP.
Treachery.
" Time.
" Tyranny.
" Talent.
" Temptation.
" Unanimity.
" ncha1itable spirit.
" UVanity
.
" Veracity.
" Vivacity.
" Vice .
"
" Virtue.
" W it.
" Worldly-mindedness.
lth.
" Wea
.
" World
" Winter.
Writing.
" Youth.
" Zeal.
"
Female virtues.
Know ledge is power.
Progress of error.
Government of the t.ongue.
Governm~nt of the thoughts.
Government of lhe temper.
Government of the affec·
lions.
Progress of knowledgt>.
Attachmt>nt to early habi ts.
The power of Association.
The immorta lity of the soul.
The uses of knowledge.
The happiness ofin uocence.

Beware of des perate steps, - the darkest day, Live till to-mo1row , - wi ll have passed away.
Oft from apparent ill our hlessings ris"..
Trifles captivate lilt.le mi11d s.
True happ iness is of a r!'li red natu re .
No man can learn all things.
What most we wis h, with ease we fancy near .
J l appy the man who sees a God employed
In all th e good and ill that checker life.
Suspicion is a heavy armor, and
W ith its own weight, impedes us more.

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192.

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199.
200.
201.
2112.
203.
204.
205.
20G.
207.
208.
20!J.
210.
211.
212.
213.
214.
215.
216.
217.
218.
219.
220.
221.
222.
223.
224.
225.
2~G.

2:a .
228.
229.
2:10.
231.
232.

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS T O

R ise with the lark, and with the lark to bed.
The breath of night 's destructive to the hue
Of every flower that blows.
Sweet is the breath of morn.
Health is the vital principle of bliss,
And exerc ise of hen Ith.
ll ow happy they who know their joys are true!
At every trifle scorn to toke offence.
Seo to w lmt deeds ferocious discord drives.
Trust not appearances.
Levity of manners is prejudicial to every virtue.
Who wins by force but half overcomes his foe.
Our tempers must be governed or they will govern us.
The planetary system.
The power of custom.
The use and abuse of world ly advantages.
The power and the glory of the Creator, as displayed in the
wo rk s of creation.
The value of an unspotted reputation.
The advantages derived by mankind from the invention of the
mariner's compass, - from the invention of the telescope, the steam engine, - the art of printing.
Th e powe r of graviiy and its irnporlance on the nrnl.rrial world.
The consequences of a faculty of locomotion uniutluenced by
grav ity .
The impnrtance of order.
.
Eve ry man the architect of his own fortune.
A rolling stone gathers no moss;·
Never too old to learn .
The earth a scene of pleasure and improvement.
Di! igeilce insures success.
Idleness destroys character.
Abilities without exerc ise canno t insure success.
Life is short.and art is long.
The power of habit.
Power of conscience.
Narration and description united in an account of n voyage
to Calcutta, - to South Ame rica, - Spain, - Portugal,England , - Scotland,- Ireland, - France , &c., &c.
A superficial attention to a great varie ty of pursuits, prejudicial.
Contrivance proves design.
Hope never dies .
·
The fa lse contempt of an enemy naturally leads to insecurity.
The danger which is despised. a rrives soon est.
.
He alon e is free, who relies on his own resources, in depende nce on Providence alone.
The sou l has no sec ret which the conduct does not revea l.
The history aud characte r of the Patriarchs Joseph, - Job, .J acob, - .loHhun, - the apoH Ll e l'aul, &c.
The danger of disobedience.
F e male c haracter.
Female influence.
History of a looking-glass.
History of a needle.

History of a pin.
History of a cen t.
J.fotory of a bible.
History of a belle.
History of n be nu.
II istory of u hat.
D escription of the city of Iloston.
D escription of the c ity of New York.
Description of the cit.y of l'hilnde lphin.
Description of the city of Baltimore, &c. &c.
The journal of a day's occupa tion.
The history of a school-room.
Journal of a voyage round the world.
An account of the various religions of the world, with their
ri se and progress.
247. Iliography of Washington.
248. Biography of Columbus.
249. Biography of Napoleon Bonaparte.
250. 13ut dreadfu l is their doom whom doubt has driven
To censure fate and pious hope forego.
251. A mother-wit and wise without the schools.
2S2. The quarrels of re lativ es are the most violent.
253. Those gifts are ever the most acceptable which the giver has
made precious.
254. Remember to preserve an equal mind in arduous affairs.
255. 'l'oo much care undermines the constitution .
256. The earth opens equally for the prince and the peasant.
257. The things which belong to others please us more, and that
which is ours is more pleasing to others .
. 258. The greatest ge niu s has its weaknesses.
25!J. Vice lives and thriv es by concealment.
260. No one lives for himself alone.
261. Love and wisdom dwell apart .
2li2. Modesty graces every other virtue.
263. The necessity of relaxation.
264. A vo id extremes.
265. l~xampl e is better than precept.
2!.i!i. The pleasures of memory .
2!.i7. Ari stocracy.
268. Popular clamor. .
269. He labo rs in vain who strives to please all.
270. A_ ~ i s it to a school, public or p rivate.
27l.
tmas,
c

273.
274.
275.
27fi .
277.
278 .
27!).
280.
281.
282.

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233.
234.
2:35,
23G.
2:17.
2:1s .
23!).
240.
2<1I.
242.
243.
244.
245.
246.

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A birth -day ce lebration .
A marriage , baptism, funeral.
A shipw reck, storm nt sen, n fire, n hurricane, an enrthfjnnke.
Nn citizen entire ly usrkss .
Contention benefits neither pnrty.
Intemperance the prirne·minister of death.
C hristi anity the true philosophy.
Unintt>lligible language is a lantern without a light.
Education should be ndnp ted to th e condition.
Rank gives force to example.

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n is exposure.

2!)0.
2[)1.
292.
293.
2'14 .

2%.
290.
207.
298.

299.
300.
301.
302.
303.
304.

ie in ue nce an
importance o 1e e ma e character.
Is the expec tation of reward or the fear of punishment the
greater ince ntive to exe rtion?
The value of tim e, and the uses to which it should be applied. '
The character of the Roman Emperor Nero, - of Caligula, of Au g ustus,-of Julius Cresar,- of Numa Pompilius.
The duties we owe to our parents and the consequences of a
neglect of th e m.
How blessings bri ghten as they hke their flight.
H ow dear are all the ties that bind our race in gentle ness lo·
gethr.r.
Tho ndvant:i.gc s of cnrly ri sing : and the argume nts whi ch mny
be adduce d to pro11e it 11 duty .
Mise ry is wed to gui lt
A soul without reflection, like a pile
With out inhabitant, to ruin runs.
Still whe re rosy pleasure leads
See a kindred g rief pursue,
Ilt> hind th e steps that mi sery treads
Approaching comforts vie w.
'T is Providence alone secures,
In every change, both mine and yours.
Know then thi s truth, enough for man to know,
Virtue alone is happiness below.
Pray e r ardent opens heaven.
Whateve r is, is ri ght.
Kno wledge anti pl enty vie with each other.
vVhen begga rs die there are no comets seen ;
The heavens themsel ves blaze forth the death of princes.

SUBJECTS FOR CONFERENCES.

2.
3.
4.
5.

6.

D.

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1 ' -_""""'l_ _- - - ; . .

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396

289.

.

On the min e ral , animal, and vegetable kingdoms, as furni shing sub·
j ects of interesting inquiry.
On re fl ec tion, read ing, and;observation as affording a kn owledge of
human nature.
On th e present cha rac ter of the inhabitants of N ew- l~nglnnd, as re·
su itin g from the civil, lite rary, and religious institutions of our
fo refathers .
The Rtability of th e General Governm e nt of the U nited Stales as
affec ted by a national li terature, common dan ge rs, fac ilit y of mu·
tu al intercourse, and a general diffusion of knowledg-e.
The ob li ga ti ons of a country to h er warriors, her ~ta te smcn, her
arti i;ts, 1111d h<'f authurs.
Public amuse ments, splendid rel igious ce rem on ies, warlilw pre para·
.• oti c power.
ti ons and dis la of a ri id poli ce as n
ie com para 1ve v irtu e o tie en 1g 1tened and ignnraot c asses.
o a na 1 o
e
·
·
e nces, nnd li terature.
The assoc iati ons e xcited hy visiting Italy, Greece, Egypt, and
Palestine cons idered with reference to their ancien t history.

ENGLISH. COM.POSITION.

397

IO. On the fine arts, as affecting the rnomls, refinement, patriotism,
and re li g ion of a cou ntry.
11. On architectrue, painting, poetry, and music, as tending to produce and perpe tuate re li gious impressions.
12 On th e comparative operation in obstructing the progress of truth,
. of the sp irit of controversy, th e re vere nce of antiquity, the pas·
sion o f novelty, and the acquiescence in authority.
13. On the character of Hume, Robertson, G ibbon, and :Mitford, as
hi storians.
·
14. On th e characteristics of man and government, as found in the ·
savage, pastoral, agricultural, and commercial state.
15. On patronage, emulation, and personal necessity, as promotive of
li terary e xertion.
16. On th e effect of agriculture a nd manufactures on the morals of
th e community.
17. On the influence of Greek, Lntin, English, and 1"re11ch litcrnturc·
on tnsl.e .
~ 1 s. On novels formed on fashionable, humble, and sea life.
]!), Natural, civi l, ecclesiastical, and literary history, considered in re- lation to the tendency of each to improve and elevate the in te ll ectual faculties.
20. Miss Edgeworth, Hannah More, and Mrs. H emans.
21. The lette rs of Lady Mary Wortley :Montagu, Horace Walpole, .
and Co wper. ·
22. Personal merit and powerful friends, as promotinu
advancement
0
in life.
2:1. The influence of You ng's and C~wper's poems.
24 . Th e commercial spirit of mod ern times , considered in its influe nce on the political, moral , and literary character of a nation.
25. Stern e, Rabelais , and Cervantes.
·
26. Th e differe nce of feeling in the young and the old, with regard to ·
innov tio
The political reform er, the school master , and the missionary.
29. The country gentle man and the plebeian.
30. Ancient and modern honors to the dead.
31. Common se nse, genius, and learning, - their characteristics,
comparative value, and success.
32. Th e prospects of a scholar, a politician, and an independent gen·
tleman, in the United States .
33. Contemporary and subsequent narratives, of historical even ts.
34. Franklin, Davy, and Fulton. The comparative value of their
discoveries and improvements.
35. The comparative influence of natural scenery 1 the institutions of
society, and individual genius on taste .
3G H e raclitus, Democritus, Epicurus, and Dioge nes.
37. The ages of Quee n Elizabeth, Charles the Second, Queen Anne, .
and the prese nt nge, considered in n literary point of view.
38. E gy pt as described by . Herodotus, Greece under P ericles, the
Au g ustan age of Rome, Spain under Isabella, Italy in the
fifteenth and _sixteenth centuries, and 1''rance unde r Louis the
Fourteenth .
39. R eading, writing, observation of men and manners, and the
study of nature, as means of intellectual development.
34.

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40. Popular elections, a free press, and gene ral educ~ tion.
. .
41. The Roman ceremonies, the system of .the Druids, the religion
of the Hindoos, and the superstitions of the American lndi~ns .
42. The lite rature and morals of a country, us affected Ly the eflorts
of individual milllls, the pre vailing reli g ious faith, th e estalilished for111 of government, und the cwploymcnt most gcncrul
among the people.
.
. .
43. Actions, words, manners, and expression of countenance, as mdacative of character.
44. The poets of l!:ngland, Spain, France, and lt~ly.
45. The military character of Napol eo n, Wash11~ g to n, Wellington,
Frederick th e Great, and Charles the Tw eltth .
4G. The ages of Augustus, Lorenzo de Medicis, Louis the Fourtee nth,
and Quee n Anne.
47. The re ligi ous institutionR of Ei;y pt, Greece, and Rome .
.
48. Politics, war, literature , and scie nce, as a fi eld for the exercise of
talents.
49. Astronomy, Anatomy, the instinct ofa!limals, and th e moral . and
intell ec tual nature of man, as affording proof of un rnte lhgent
Creator.
GO. History, bi ogra phy, and fiction .
.
.
.
5L. The e vils of a lifo of so litude, of fashion, of busmess , and ol public office.
.
52. On classical learning, the study of tl! e ~athe m~ti cs, and of the ~ct·
ence of the human mind as contnbutmg to intellec tual culture.
53. On the operation of climate on the moral, intellectual, and military character.
.
. .
54. On the pow e r of the oriental, Gothic, a.nd classical superst1t1ons,
to affect the imauin ation and the feelings.
55. On pastoral, e pic, ~nd dramatic poetry.
56. On the rank and value or the mental endowments of Shakspenre,
Scott Locke , Newton, nnd the Earl of Chatham.
57. Roman; Grec ian, and Ei;yptian remains.
.
[i8. On the influe nce of spnng, summer, autumn, and wmter upon
·
the thoughts,. feelings, and imaginati?n.
.
.
59. Britain, France, llaly, and Gree ce, as mlerestang to an Am encan
traveller.
60. On the pleasures of the antiquary, the traveller, the literary re·
cluse, and the man of business. .
·.
61. On the bene ficial effects ofmechamcs, chemistry, astronomy, and
agriculture.
. .
.
.
62. On the influence of peace upon the cond1twn of the ngncultunst,
the manufacturer the merchant, and the professional man .
63. On the views of lil; taken by Democritus, Heraclitus, Dioge nes,
and Zeno.
64. On the tendency of poetry, history, and ethical science, to promote improvement in virtue.
.
· .
G5. On the influence on personal happiness, of natural temper, culti~xternal condition, and social intercourse .
~
~ 6G. On novelty, sUblimity, beauty, and harmony, as sources of gratification.
67. Ancient epics, considered as pict.ures of manners, as proofs of
g enius 1 or as sources of ente rtamment.
68. Th e unio n which a harmony of m_otive produces between me? ~f
different pursuits, and that which results merely from a s1m1larity of action.

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

399

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6'.). The res pective claims of poetry , painting, architecture, and sculpture, as means of re fin e me nt of taste .
70. Pe rso nal mem oirs and formal histories , as illustrations of national
progress .
71. An olc.l and a new country, as fi elds for enterprise.
i'2 . Th e su pe riority of conscience to human laws.
7:3. Anci e nt and modern notions of liberty.
74. The scientific trave ller and the missionary.
75. A profound philosophy and a wide obse rvation of men, as elements
of a statesman.
I
7u. The pastoral and the hu11te r's life.
77. The wnr spirit in republics and in monarchies.
78. Modern exp loration s in Africa and America.
7!) . The influence of devotion to the person of the Sove reign in
monarc hi es, nnd to that of aJopul ar favorite in re public~ .
Explorati ons by sea and by Ian .
The study of g rammer, logic, and the mathematics, ns contributin g to th e deve lopm en t of the intellectual powers .
82. Pe rso nal beauty, elevation of rank, and the possession of riches,
as pass ports in society.
83. The animal, the mineral, and the vege table kingdom s , as fi elds of
sc ientific di scove ry.
84. Th e pulpit, th e press, and the school-room, as efficient agents on
the morals of a people.
Si:i. Th e horse, th e cow, and the sheep, as contributing to the comfort
and convenience of mankind .
BG. The expectrrti on of reward and the fear of punishment, as affectin g a moral age nt.
87. The pursuits of agricullme, the profeRsion of arms, the business
of trade, and the labors of the mechanic, as affecting the taste
and morals of a people.
88. Color, form, and size, as elements of physical beauty.
89. Quickness of perception, rete ntiveness of memory, nnd plodding
perseverance, ns contributin~ to mental advancement.
90. Th e •ix follies of science. 'l he quadrature of the circle ; the·
multiplication of the cube; perpe tual motion; the philosopher"s
, stone; magic; and judicial astrology.

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SUDJECTS FOR COLLOQUYS, OR COLLOQUIAL DISCUSS\ONS,

]. Attac hment. to party as a ground of action, for an upright politician.
2. On th e defec ts and ndvrrntngea of hi story , as affording a knowledge
of the motives and actions of individuals, and of the character of
human nature.
3. On the
4. n th e moral influ ence of the Christian Sabbath.
fi. On the influ ence of fn•hion on the judgment of right and wrong.
G. On the influence of the multiplicity of books, on the interests of
litnature and scie nce .
7. Defe rence to great names in philosophy, and lo high rank in the
social state.
8. The e nthu si ast and the matter of fact man.
9. Ont.he advantages and disadvantages resulting to a scholar, from
frl'qu ent intercourse with mixed society.

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ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

AIDS TO

10. On the effects of literary reviews, as at prese nt conduc~ed.,
11. On the comparative prevale nce and strength of the prmc1ples of

loyalty au<l in<le peu<le nce in man.

12. On the character of anci e nt an<l mod e rn patriotism.
13. Of establi shing a Unive rsity iu the country or in a city.
14. Forei g n trave llers in the U11itcd Slates.
15. On the ditle re nt views, which literary men take of the world at

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18. The comparative influe nce of governments and of md1v1duals, m
effec ting great public improveme nts.

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fiO. Moore and David.
51. Addi son and St. .John.
52. Dyron a nd l~ z e kiel.
53. 11 ume and Moses.
SUBJECTS FOR FORENSIC DTSPU'fATIONS.

1. Wh et.her the in c reased fncilitiC's of intercourse between Europe ·

th eir first entrance upon it.

Hi. The diffore ncc of11rn.nners in Rome and in mod e rn civilized states .
17. On active profession, as injuring or assisting th e e fforts of a literary man.

401

HJ. The literary influe nce of a read in g public.
20. The views tak e n of a nation, by ilsr> lf and others.
21. Th e moral e ffec ts of puhlic, and of domestic a mu se me nts.
2\!. Th e eflects of controversy on partisans, an<l on the public.
2:.l. The intluence of the R oman Gladiatorial shows, an<l of th e Greek
games on the c haracter of th e people.
24. Th e co mparativ e e ffec ts of literature and of' science, on the pro!!l'Css of civilization.
25. Th;, effec t. which acquc.inlnn cc \\·ith fo reign langu age s hae upon
th e originalitv of a nation 's literature.
26. The comparative intlu e nce of individu als .an<l lenrn ed societies in
forming the lite rary characle ~ of a nation.
.
27. Th e influence of the multip!tcallon of books upon l1le ralure.
28. Th e studv of nature , and of nmn, as affording a prope r field for

J1~~~r:~1!r~~~T6ichar<lson,

:.
;nd th.e.author ofWav.e rley.
31. Th e comparative importance of the exped1llons to ascertam the
N orth W est passage, a nd the source of the Nige r.
.·
32. Intell ec tual, moral, and physical education .
:33. Th e pros pects of Christianity in India.
34. The satires of Horace an<l Juve nal.
35. How far the ri crht should be controlled by the expedi e nt.
36. On the cornpa~ative value of contemporaneous and posthumous
fume.
37. On the evils of a?archy, and of an arbitrary government.
38. Dilige nt observallon of facts and ph1l oso ph1cal use of them.
a9. On superstition and skepticism .
.
40. Th e self.devotion -0f the Christian martyr a1~d the Roman patriot.
41. Poe ts and novelists of th e poor.
4~. Strafford nnrl Sir H e nry Vane the Younge r.
43. The i<lea of the beautiful, as de ve loped in Grecia n lite rature nnd
art .

44. Th e influe nce of the association of id eas on our practical ope ralions.
45. The moral and inte ll ec tual influence of the prin cipl e of emulnlion,
on systems of education.
.
.
46. Ente rtaining myste ries , no~els ~ f r.eal life, .and romantic or supernatural ficti ons, as afford111g sumlar spec ies of delight.
47. Th e Sacred and Profane poets.
4C!. Milton and Isaiah.
49. Johnson and St. Paul.

and the United States, be favorabl e to thi s country.
2 . Wh e th er more e vil or good is to be expected, from the disposition
manifested at the prese nt day, to try existing institutions by
first principl es.
3. Wh e th e r voting by ballot should be introduced into all elective
an<l legislati ve procee,!i ngs.
4. \Vhe th er forms of' go vc rn111 c 11t exe rt any importr111t infl uence on
the ~ rowf.h anti clrnrnclcr of nation al literature.
,, 5. Whether any a tte mpt s hou ld be made to preserve severity of mann Pr8 in a niod e rn republic
6. Ong ht Co ngress to pa"s an inte rnntionnl copy-tight law >
7 . JA tl1erc reason to think that th e pul>lic min<l -wi ll ever be more
" settled than al present, about the character of Mary, Queen of
: Scots.
8. vVIH:'th e r more good than ev il has resulted lo the world , from the
life nnd re ligion of Mahomet.
~>. \Vh e th e r popular superstiti ons, or e nlighten ed opinions, be most
favorable to the growth of poe ti cal literature .
10. vVhe th e r the lite roture of Ameri ca be injured by that of modern
for<'ign countriC's.
11. Whethe r a want of reverence be justly chargeable .on o.ur age and
country.
J\!. vVhcthe r the diversities of individual character be owing more to
physical , thnn to moral causes.
13. Wh e th e r the advance m e nt of civil liberty be more indebted to
inte llect.u a l culture, than to physical suffering.
14. vVhether the fine or the useful arts afford the better field for the
display of originality.
15. Whe the r prosperity and increase ofwenlth have a favorable influence upon the 111anners and morals of a people .
Hi. Wh e the r modern facilities of testing literary efforts by popular
opinion, he unfavorabl e to the production of great works .
. 17. Whe the r the choice of a representative should he restricted to the
inhabitants of the town, or district re prese nted.
rn. 'Wh e th e r the sum of human happiness on earth, be greater by a
s uccession of ge nerations, than it would have bee n by one continu ed race; the numbe r of inhabitants being the same.
19. vVhe the r in a public seminary, the course of study established by
rule should be the same for all.
20. Do savage nations possess n full right to the soil.
21. Whe ther a State have a right to recede from the Union .
22. Whethe r, in tim es of political discussion, it is the duty of e very
citizen to dechire his opinion, and attach himself to some party.
23. Whe ther there were greate r faciliti es, in ancie nt times, for an individual acquiring influence, than there are now.
24. Whe ther the inequalities of our social condition be favorable to
the progress of knowledge.
34*

402

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HI

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403

AIDS TO

ENGLISH · C01\1POSITION.

25. Is it expedient to make colonies of convicts.
26. ls the cause of des potism strengthened by the extermination of
the Poles.
27. Whether the inequalities of genius in different countries be owing to moral causes.
2d. Whether inflicting capital punishments publicly has any tendency to diminish crime.
29. 'Whethe r the personal dependence, incident to a minute division
of labor in the arts and sciences, be dangerous lo our free insli·
tutions.
30. "\Vhe lher the influences which tend to perpetuate, be stronger
than those which lend lo dissolve, the union of the United States.
31. Whether we sho uld abstain from publishing the truth, from a fear
lest the world be not .Pre pared to receive it.
32. Whether the popularity of a literary work is lo be received as an
evide nce of its real merits.
33. ls there uny objection to a man's propo~ing hi111sclf for public
office, and using mea ns lo obtain it.
34. D oes proselytism favor the cause of truth.
3~. Whether priv atee ring be incident to the right of war.
:m. Whether a written constitution be e!licacious in securing civil
libe rty .
37. \Vh ether the progress of knowledge lessen the estimation of the
fine arts.
38. Whe ther the exclusion of foreign articl es, lo encourage domestic
manufactures, be conducive to public wealth.
39. Whether the world be advancing in moral improvement.
40. Whether the progress of. civilization diminish the love of martial glory.
41. Whether personal intere•t in a subject of investigation be favor·
able to the discovery of truth.
42. Whether the power of eloquence be diminished by the progress
of literat ure and science.
43. Whether the prevalence of des potism in Asia be occasioned prinr,ipally by physical causes.
.
44. Whether the present circumstances of Europe furni sh reason to
expect an essential amelioration of human affairs.
45. Do facts, or fiction, contribute mos t to menta l enjoyment.
40. Whether wrilern of fiction be morally responsible for unchaste
and profane language in their productions.
47. Th e policy of requiring property qualifications for office.
4il. Ought capital punishments lo be inflicted in tim e of peace .
4!J. Does the system of modern warfare indicate any advancement in
civilization.

4. On the alleged degeneracy of animals and vegetables in America.
(Philosop hical Discussion .)
5. Wheth er works of imagination should be designed to produce a
·
specific moral effect. (Literary Discussion.)
G. The English styles that have attracted the most imitators. (Literary Disquisition.)
7. "Mahomet Ali." (Political Disquisition.)
8. Whe ther national literature is to be regarded more as a cause or a
consequence of national refineme nt.
(Deliberative Discussion.)
D. Originality in literature, as affected by sound criticism. (Literary
Disquisition.)
10. The influe nce of superstition on science and literature. (Philosophical Disquisition.)
11 . On the materiality of light. (Philosophical Disputation.)
12. ls the preservation of the bnlnnce of power a justifiable cause of
war. (Deliuerative Discussion .)
13. On the causes of the variety of complex ion . and figure in the
human species. (Philosophical Disputation.)
14 . On the policy of encouraging manufacturing establishments in
the United Stales. (Deliberative Discussion.)
15. The me rits of Geological systems. (Disquisition .)
Hi. Th e co mparative interest and importance, of Grecian and Roman
history. (Literary Discussion.)
17. Th e causes of llui present pecuniary distresses of the commercial
world . (Disquisition.)
18. The effects of the Crusades. (Literary Inquiry.)
19. Changes in English style, since the lime of Milton. (Literary
Discussion.)
20. Comparative advantages of politics and literature , us professions
: in this country. (Deliberative Discu~sion.)
21. The influence of the dramatic write rs on the age of Elizabeth and
Charles the Second. (Literary Discussion.)
22. Th e restoration of Greece lo political ind ependence. (Deliberative
D isc ussion. )
23. The litnary influC'nce of the early English prose writers. (Literary Disquisition.)
24. Of presenting literature and science in jlOpular forms . (Literary
Discussion.)
25. Manual and intellectual lubor. (Philosophical Discussion.)
26. Will the present proposed parliamentary reform, endanger the
monarchical and aristocralical portion of the British constitution. (Deliberative Discussion.)
27. Importance of independent criticism, to the growth of national
litera ture. (Literary Disquisition.)
28. Causes of ill health in literary men. (Philosphicul Disquisition .)
2fl. The influence of superstition on science and literature. (Philosophical Discussion.)
30. English biogruphy nnd French memoirs. (Literary Discussion .)
31. Arc political improvemen ts best efiectcd by rulers, or the people.
(Deliberative Discussion .)
32. The influence of ancient art on ancient literature. (Literary
Disquisition .)
33. The poet of un enrly age, and of a civilized one. (Literary Discussion.)

SUBJECTS FOR DELIDERATlVE, POLITICAL, CRITICAL, PHILO•
SOPlllCAJ,,
IN<lUIRIES,

AND

LITERARY

DISCUSSIONS,

DISQUISITIONS,

&c.

I. On the right of legislative bodies to provide by law for the support
of religion. (Deliberative Discussion .)
2. The character of a philosophical historian . (Philosophical Disquisition)
3. Th e e ffec t of prev ailing philosophical views on the sly le of elegant
litera ture. (Disquisit10n .)

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404

405

AIDS TO

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

34. Comparative utility of the moral and physical sciences in the
present age. (Philosophical Discussion.) .
'
35. On what does the security of our institutions depend? (Political
Disquisition.)
36. 'l'hc exycdicncy of inf.r.rvention hy one nation in the civil and
, publt.c contests of others. (.Deliberative Discussion .)
37. 1 he ey•!s and benefits of large books. (Literary Discussion.)
38. Skept1c1 sm and love of trnt.h, ns indicati ons of' mental charncter
and vigor. (l'hilosophical Discussion.)
3(). Te~1dency of free institutions to bring first principles into quesllo~. (Deliberative Discussion.)
'
40. The mfluence of Lord Bacon's writings, on the progress of
knowledge. (Philosophical Discussion.)
41. An author's writing many books, or resting his fame on a few.
(Literary Discussion.)
42. Universal Suffrage. (Political Disquisition.)
43. The resources and encouragements of e legant literature in the Old
and New \\'.orld. (Literary Discussion .)
44. The compar.allve power of moral and physical causes, in forming
the Amencan character. (Philosophical Discussion.)
45. Are short terms of political office desirable? (Deliberative Discussion.)
•
46. Modern imitation of the ancient Greek tragedy. (Literary Dis·
quisition.)
•
47. The real or supposed decline of science, at the present day.
(Philosophical Disqui~ition.)
48. English novels in the reigns of George the Second, and George
the Third. (Literary Disc,nssion .)
4!). The expediency of making authorship a profession. (Philosoph·
ical Discussion.)
50. Whether patriotism was inculcated to excess in the ancient republics. (Deliberative Discussion.)
51. The life and services of Linnreus. (Philosophical Disquisition.)
52. The obs~rva.n~~ of poetical justice in fictitious writings. (Litera ry D1squis1t1on.)
53. <?reek .and Ron~an. comedies. (Critical Disquisition.)
51. 1'.d~1cat10i:i, as. anmng to ?e~e.lope all the faculties equally, or to
foster rnd1v1dual pecuhant1es of taste and intellect. (Philosophical Discussion.)
55. Utility of chemical knowledge to professional men. (Philosoph·
ical Disquisition.)
56. Th~ ~xpediency of reli.gious establishments under any form of
civil governm ent. (Deliberative Discussion .)
f>7. On the pr~cticability of reaching the North pole, and the ndvnntng~s wh1~h would attend such an expedition. (Philosophical
D1spu tat1on.)
58. Sho~ld _the righ~ of suffrage. in any case depend upon different
pnnc1ples, as 1t respects differe nt classes or individuals in the
srune country . (Deliberative Discussion.)
5!'J. On .the probal!ility of prolonging the term of human life, hy the
aid of physical. or moral causes_. (Philo_sophical Discussion.)
60. Upon the Huttonrnn and Wemenan theories of the earth. (Philosophical Disputation.)
61. On ~he us_e of heathen mythology in modem poetry. (Literary
Discuss10n.)
•. ,

62. On the tendency of a legal provision for the support of the poor,
.
to diminish human misery. (Deliberative Disc~ssion.).
63. The moral tendency of the natural sciences. (Plulosophical Discussion.)
.
{i4. The me rits of the· histories of Hume and Lingard. (Liternry
Discussion.)
r: Liberal principles, as affecting the strength of a government.
{j ;).
(O~liberative Discussion.)
(j(), l'olit.icnl patronage in Republics.
(Political Disquisitions.) .
ti7. The poe t of an early, and of a civilized age . (Literary Discus·
sion ; see No. 33.)
{i8. Are mental resources and moral energy most developed in unprincipled men? (Philosophical Discussion.)
.
69. Whether heat have an independent existence. (Philosophical
Disputations.)
70. On the probable disposition and mutual relation of the fixed stars.
71. On the a ll eged improvement in the art of composition since the
age of Queen Anne.
72. On the expediency of a national university. (Deliberative Discus·
s~)
.
73. Wheth er the climate of any country have undergone any perma·
nent change. (Philosophical Disputation.)
74. 'Whether extensiveness of territory be favorable to the preservation of a republican form of government.
75. What reasons are there for not expecting anoth~r . great epic
poem. (Literary Inquiry.)
76. The probability of the study of the dimd languages always being
essential to a liberal education.
77. Why are men pleased with imitation, and disgusted with mimicry?
78. What grounds are there distinct from revelation,~to believe in
the .immortality of the soul?
79. On the comparative utility of the moral and physical sciences, in
the United States.
80. The views entertained of the duties and objects of public offices
by the incumbents.
81. The use of a divernity of languages.
8:!. The amount nnd clrnrncter of cmne in an age of barbarism, and
an nge of laws.
.
83. An inquiry into the cause of the growth of the power of ancient
Rome . The favoring circumstances, - character of the peo·
pi e , - local situation, - early institutions of the republic, condition of other slates.
84. The use of ballacls and popular songs in a rude and in a civilized
age.
·
85. The assistance derived from friends, party, and · wealth in a democracy; and from ancestry, court favor, and title in a des·
potism .
81i. The favorite of nature and the crc1tture of art.
87. The connexion of religion~ celebrations with public festivities, as
seen both in Pagan and Christian countries.
88. Comparison of Horace's reasons for abandoning irreligion, (See
13ook Jsl, Ode ~8th, (Parcus Deorum,) with those that might
affect a fr10dern skeptic.
89. Comparison of Hume with Sallust in the delineation <;>f character.

ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

406

SUBJECTS FOR

!JO. Sket.ch<'s of character, as given by the historian, with Shake·

peare's (or the dramatist's) mode of 09unint~ng ~s. with men.
91. Spokf'n nnd writte n language , as deceptive.or m e_fhc1c ~t modde.s of
communication . (Note. -w e are often disappointed m rea mg,
what we much admired in hearing)
.
!l2 . Th e advantages and di s adva~tuges of negative cliara~f.~ r. (Note.
"Deficiency of character 1s oftener taken for pns1t1ve perf~c­
tion; want of ardor is exalte d into self-command and superior
prude.nee . The cold and i~diffe~e!1t n e ve~, offe nd by zealous
inte rfere nce, and never get into d1fficult1es . ) .
.
93. The ca uses which have ch ecked prngress, or improvement m
moral and phy sical sc ie nce , or in arts and governm e nt.
94. The triumph s of the soldi e r and the philosopher, as of Alexander
and Aristotle, Bonaparte and Cuvier.
9il. El e vation of rank, as affecting turpitude of characte r.
!)6. The influence of successive gen e rations, instead of one pennnnent race , on human improve ment.
!17. The ~:nglish language as it is spoken, nnd as it is writte n.
98. Of what c lasses of pleas ure and gratification nre those unfo~tu­
nate be incrs su sce ptible , who are de stitute of the seu ses of sight
nncl hC' ari'n g, as we ll as the faculty of s p<'c ch ? .
.
,
!l!l . l s th e loss of sight., or of spee ch, the greate r <lc pr1vat1 011 .
100. Of 111aki11!! changes in the political constituti on of free stat.rs,
e asy . (Uelibe rntiv e Di scussion.)
101. The history of A stronomy. (Disquisition .)
102. The grounds for thinking that the Malaria will eventually depopulate Rome. (Philosophical Disputation .) .
103. The e ffects on Am e rican lite rature, of a community of language
with England . (Literary Discussion.)
.
104. Th e comparative advantages of W e.stern _Afnc~ and Hayti, for
colonizing fre e blacks. (D eliberative D1scuss10n.)
sun.IEf:TS FOil POEMS TN ENr.Lisn, LATIN , GR EE K,

I. Numina Ve le rum, or th e Ancient Divinities.
2. Nature . the source of poe ti c in spiration.
:1. Un th e. di scov<' f\' o f l lcrcu la11<' 11rn. (l ; rrf'!c)
'1. (In
pl1' as 11 n;s and pa i1rn o f th e s t udc 11 l.
r,_ (I n th <' p u rs u it of fa m e .
fi l l<k t.o fancy.
7 . i':lnq11rnrf'.
~. t\n1it"ipalinn.
~ ). /\. vi~ i n n nf :11 nh it inn.
111 . 'l'l1P 1 n i ~~io 11 :irv
II 1\d 'I"'"'- ( I ;n lin.) To h npr.

u,.,

_.:!:

I •!. NovPl ty. (C;rPf'k.)
1:1 A d p·w1•1<1. ( 1,atin.)
H. ( :011 t0 1n pin l ion.
011 L11 1w.
jt; ( In r ank and I ilks.
17 On ,-,inl lilw rty.
!~.

407

AIDS TO

!le!int•111e11 t.

} / f(l!

noTtJTOq.

& c.

DISSERTATIO~S,

1. On diversity of talents among mankind.
2 . On the d1 •pc ndcnce of the mental operations, on the condition of
the co rporeal frame.
3. On th e causes of the superiority of characte r in moilern Euro~e.
4. On the causes, which, i11de pe n<le ntly of their merit, have contributed lo e levate the ancie nt cla•sics.
5. Milton nnu Homer contrnsted and compared.
G. On the Ii tcrature of the Romans, as affected by their government,
re ligi on , and slate of society .
7. The it1 fluence of the fine arts upon religion.
8. Th e inte rest attached to places where rh s tinguished persons have
dwe lt, or which Poets have commemorated.
9. The importance of a popular history, in which the actions of m~n
shall be re prese nted nccording lo the principles of the Clmstinn re li g ion.
10. The peculiar facilities, in mod e rn times, for effecting great purposes in government and in religion .
J l. A comparison of the domestic lite of the ancient Greeks and
Itoniarrn, and that of our own countrymen .
.
l\!. On the influ e n ce of Chri s tianity in producing the moral and mtelle c lual revivnl of Europe, alter the dark nges.
.
.
13. On the utility of the study of political economy, considered rn
r e lation lo our own country .
l 4. On the nece Rsity of public and private patronage , to the advancem e nt of literature in our country.
15. The ge ol ogi cal age of the w orld.
16. Agitation, as a means of effecl111g reform.
17. The conflict of duties.
18 . On the be nefit accruing to an individual from a knowledge of the
phy sical sc ie nces.
!~) . On Chri s tianity as aflec ti ng "nr uo mes ti c habits.
20. S eve rit y of nH11111 c rs i11 a 1cp11lilic .
\!l. Jleav e 11 li es abo ut us in our in fa ncy .
22. Th e influ e n ce of fashion on our m orn! judg me nts.
~!:I . Tli c pn 1Vcr of the lnw i11 fr ee Rlat1•s.
2-1. T he c li a rncll" r of C h ief .ln sl ic1' l\ la rs lrn ll.
2:,. l listi1<i:tiu11 s of rank i11 the United StaleH.
2li. Th e e11co11rag~mc11 l to young 111en lo educate thcmse l vrs , exclu sively or chir il v fo r h igh political o flicc s .
~!7 . Origin :i lit.y of tho1<gh t , s.\1pp usc d tu be necessa rily lessened as the

I
1

I

w1 1rld 1• 1n \ YS c1lcll'r.
2~. :\J11d1·~ ,J'.""1n1hli~!1ing, circulating, and pf'rp1;lunli11g litera ry works
in dilll·1l·lll ngcs aud co unt1 ic:-;.
:2'.l . L:1fa\' c llc.
::11 . 'l' he ·:rrcspo11silil1· n ess of ano11y 111o u s writi11g-~.
'.~l. Th e rt· ~ p Cf' l d11c fn1111 COIHJll('fors to worh ~ of ;1rt.
:\·!. T l1c clli-<:1. 11f 111arili1<1e 1• 11 krJ'ri >CB 011 th e i11lcllcclunl cliarnclcr
of' a 11ati1lll.
:t~. 'l'hC' 1i!·ld 111wttl'd 1;1r t!1t'll of enli•rpri~t · in tliP \.\'p~f..

:-1 1. Hrep,.l"l {(•r pnldic n1< 111 111nc 11ts, whethn trinmplial or for the
..1 ... ,.. 1.
~l:i . Cha racte r und writ ings of S ir .TnmP• Ma .. ki ntosh .
:JG Lite rary character of our first settlers.

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408

AIDS TO

37. The infirmities of men of genius.
33. The prospects of genuine liberty in Europe.
39. The be nefits to be derived from the in stitution of Lyceums.
40. Th e be ne fit acc ruing to an individual from a kn ow ledge of the
exact sc iences . (::iec No . 18.)
41. Pros pec ts of young me n in the different learned profess ions.
4.:!. 'I'hc characte r of ~ncrates .
4::1. Long life.
.
41. O n the c har1'C of in~ratitmle mad!' a~ai11st r<>p11 hlw ".
45. The et1ec t of the u11i versal diffus wn of k11u\\·lcd g<' on the \\· c llbci11rr of socil'l y.
4G. The du rues tic lifo. of th e 1toma11s.
47. T he domestic life of the G ree ks.
<'Id. The do1n esl ic life nf LI "' ancient E!!r Pti;i11 s.
4!J . On i1na g in al ion a11d se 11 si!Ji!ity, a s ailccted by the age of the indi vidua l.
GO. Of makini.:: c hanges in au author's wurks, lo rulopt thc111 l•J 1111J<l ·
crn tastci<

ii :

11

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Gl. On th e reciprocal i11lluc11ce of lilt•rnt11r~ and morals .
GZ. On simplicity and ornamen t in writiug .
53. Characte ristic defects of modern English poetry.
54. The effects of seclusion and of society upon the lite rary character.
55. Pulilic opinion, as a standard of right.
G6. The m oral power of sympathy .
57. The diffe rent views which literary men take of the world, at,
th e ir first entrance upon it. (See Colloquy, No . JG.)
58. The vie w which a great mind takes of its own productions .
59. The principal c harges prefe rred against the present age, by phi·
losopiiers and philan1hrnph't1'.
60. Chauce r and his age.
6 l. Visits to re markable places.
62. The contributions of oratory to lite rature.
·
63. The influe n ce of the multiplication of books upon literature.
64. The effect ur belie !' rn immortality upon litera ture .
65. Th e res traints imposed , in modern times, on the warlike spirit.
U6. The lyric poetry of Scotland.
67. The fate of re formers.
68. The dread of the prevale nce of ske pticism.
69. Ages of action and of re fl ection.
70. The moral te nde ncy of tbe principles of Malthus.
71. The educati on of the senses.
72. On the acquisition and use of intellectual power .
73. The literary character of the sacred scrip tures.
SUBJECTS

FOR

ORATIONS

IN

ENGLISH, FREN CH, LA'I'JN 1

GREEK, SPANISH, HEBREW ,

I.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.

&c.,

ESSAYS,

&c.

The utilitari1rn system of education.
Se lf-sncrilicc.
Phil ant hropy.
On the names of Deity in the H ebrew scriptures. (Hebrew.)
On the old age of the sc h olar.
On the importance of classical literature .
On the durability of our political ins titutions.
The effect of miracles on the character of the J ews. (Hebrew.)

I
•

~
~
~

1
Ji

l

~

'

I
I
I•

I

.ENGLISH COMPOSITION.

9. On the progress of the exact sciences in France and England.
(Essay.)

JO. On th e progress of literature.
J I.
l'! .
f'.l

'''·

I:) .

11.i.
17 .
I d.

(Gree k .)
On th e ltolllan chnrnc f<'r n.nd in:>titnt ions . (Lotin .)
On I.he di,:rnity and u t ili ty of !hr pliilosci phy of' thP l111111an 1ni nd.
'!'h e ns pr el of revolutions, on the adrnnc e n1 c nt ot' tl1e rn11td .
f In the rlrcl1nr nf' pnPtry .
011 th' cnllivatinn o f the taste and irnn f'innt ion.
On thr follacy nf hist.err .
~
(I 11 l 1lcr.i r \' ,:,. i Is.
011 t.l1 c i11flu c 1i c c of pliil nsnpliy n 11 Chri ~t ia11ity.

.l!I . Un ll1 e i11fluf'ncc pf' Uw arts a 11 d ~cicn c t· ::: 011 civil li\1rrt\r ,
:.!ll. 011 I.h e ddlere ut styles of elu1111e11ce pre vadi11 g al d illc·rc; 1l periods
nf' snc iPty .

:21 . Ptild1c npi11inn.
~'2 Tl11· ~p i11 t whi c h s h ould acc o1npa11y our re pu\Jlican ino t itu l ions.
:!:l. !'uLl ic s laliun .
:!-L J\ ~a!utato r r oration
~.-). ;\ v alcdictc;rv o ration .

2C. On an ac4uaiutam:e with the Sptrnish fanguage an d literature.
(In Span ish .)
27. On the character of By ron.
28. On the progress of r efinement.
29. On the conditi on and prospec ts of the American people.
30. On the sub lim ity of the Holy Scriptures.
31. De rece ntioribus cum nntiquis collatis; or ancients nnd mode rns
compared . (In Latin .)
32 On Ame rican feeling.
:t). (ln nati0nal ek•quence .
34 . The influence of commerce upon letters.
35. A modern canon of criticism.
36. Supposed degeneracy of the age.
37. No good that is possible, but shall one day be real.
:.Its. l'ubli c 1ecreation s.
:1!J. Em piri cism.
40. The litera ry profession.
41. Moral effort.
42. D e virorum illustrium exemplis . (Latin.) The exampies of iilu st rious men.
43 Criticism.
44 . The Christian philosophy, its political application.
45. M e ntal refinem e nt.
4G. P opul ar ity.
47. D ecision of characte r, as de manded in our day and country.
48. The character of Lord llaco n.
49. The div e rsiti es of characte r .
50. Litera ry ju•tice.
r,t, Snpc rHt.ition.
r;•J . Th e influence of specu lative minds.
fi:l. Ame rica n Aristocracy .
G4. Th e value of the political lessons left us by the founders of our
fr ee institutions.
GG. Enthu sia,srn.
5G. D e mnrt ui s nil nisi honum . (Latin.) Speak no evi l of the dead,
57. Th e spirit of reform.

35
I

409

~.

~

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-----?. ·---

. . .---..

·-------------------------····-----------------------=~

410

AIDS TO

58. The spirit of a nc ient and modern education.
5!J. The lot of th e portrayer of pass ion.
GO. The love of truth - a practical principle.
(jJ. The prog ress of mun.
G2. Ilndicalism.
G:l. Anc ie nt ve neration for the public.
G4. The dangers of intol erance unde r a popular government.
135. The dangers to which the minds of young men in our country
nre e xpose d.
Gfi. Th e character and prospec ts of the Slate of New Y ork.
67. Mutati on of Taste.
68. Patriotism.
(i!J. Eve ry m an a debtor to his pro fess ion.
70. Of livin g in times of great intellec tual excite ment.
71. The diffusion of sc ientific kn owl edge among th e peopl e.
72. The importance of e fforts and ins titutions for the diffusion of
kno w ledge .
73. Early prejudices.
74. The advance me nt of the age.
75. The prog rf'ss of human nature.
76. Moral sublimity .
77. Home - th e Ame ri can home .
78. Th e permane nce of literary fame.
79. The claims of th e age on the yo ung men of America.
80. On Physiogn omy. (In H ebrew .)
81. Sur I~ Revolution Fran~aise. (l?rench.) On the French Revo-

ENGLI SH COMPOSITION.

108.
10!1.
1 JO.
11 l.
112.
11:3.

114.
1 I fi.
llG .
117.
IJ S.
119.
120.
121.
122.
12:3.
124.
J2Ci.
J 26.
127.
128.
12!J.
J 30.
131.
132.

..

=---·=--.1;;=
=-'"-"==~- ,,..,,..
=:i ........._~__ .. ~ ..h'"-4~---

411

On the reciprocal influence of ge nius and knowle dge.
On the revoluti onary Rpirit. of mod ern times.
On the du rability of th e Fede ral Union.
Prese nt influences on Am erican literature .
The re turn to P a lestine.
D e Grrecarum literarum studio. (Latin.)
D e vita in Universitate nos tra .
Ele me nts of poetry nnd romance in America.
D e phil osophi m studio.
The pride of sch olarsh ip.
The physical sciences.
.
The prese nt and former condition of Greece. (Greek.)
De oratoribus Americanis.
Periodical literature .
De lrnjus temporis indole.
Th e teacher .
D e eloqu enti ro studio in sc holis nostris neglecto.
Ameri can political influences.
D e literarum scholis noslris.
The sc holar's hope. .
D e rebus preteritis et presentibua.
Pursuit of universal truth.
Literre A mericanre.
R e voluti ons of literature.
De lingure Latinre hoc tempore usu .

lution .

82. On decision of character.
83. On innovation.
84. On the restoration of Greece .
85. De institutorum Americanorum eventus et libertatis causID
conjun ctione . (Latin.)
86. The Middle A ges .
87. D e oraculis. (L alin .)
88. The he roic character .
8!). The duties of republican citizPns.
DO. The duti es of nn Am erica n citize n.
DI. On re publican institutions as affecting private characte r.
!)2. On im agination as affecting individual happiness.
93. On war.
94. De Rom a me libertatis et eloquenti re casu. The decline of Rom an liberty and eloquence.
D5. Views of happiness.
!J6. De Caii .l\forii revo . (Latiµ.) The nge of Caius M ariu s.
D7. Skepticism .
!JS. D e fos tis diebus qui nostra in Universitate cele brantur. (Latin.)
D!J. Mod ern patri otism.
100. De lite ris L atinis .
JOI. The sacrifi ces and recompense of litera ry lite.
102. Quid de artibu s inge nuis in civitatibus Ameri cre speran<lum sit.
103. The Ame rican lite rary chara cter.
104. D e Loco rum in nnimum vi.
·
105. Marty rd om .
106. Socrates. (Greek .)
107. De priscorum diis. (Latin .) The ancie nt divinities.

ERRATA.
Page 204, in th e " R eply," for at dinner, read to dinner.
" 339 , lin e 27th, for wife af an oth er, read wife of an Ottthor.
" 340, line 5th from th e bottom, iusert the word previous between long

m ental.

"

Billi

line 3d from the bottom, for appear, read appeal.

"

311, first line, for pa.'l;/sion ~, rend pnssinn .
" line I Bth from the bottom , ln•ert liim Aner preceded.
" li11 e 12 th from the bottom, ins ert if nner not.

"
"

" line 4th from the bottom, for true, read here.
342, dele the quotation marks atier empty, and insert them aner com1iositor,
four lines below :
" line 6th , for interest , read interests.
348, in the title of th e Model, for Superstition, r end Superstitions.
" line 11th from the bottom, for these, read those .

"

"

The following beautiful allegory was prepured for the 150th page , but was
accidentally omitted.
"A humming-bi rd once met a butterfly, and, being pleased with the beauty
of its person a11d glory of its wings, made an offer of perpetunl friendship.
" ' I cnnn ot think of it,' wns th e reply,' as you ouco spurned me, and cnlled me
n drnwllng dolt .'

"'Impossible ,' cxclnim ed the humming-bird; 'I always entertained the highes t
res pect fo r such benutilill cren tu rcs as you.'
"'Perhaps yon do now,' said lh e o th er; 'but when you ineulted me, I wns n
caterpillar. So Jet me give you this piece or advice : Never insult the h umble,
as th ey may one day become your s uperior.'"
A part of page 44 has been accidentally repeated on page 316.

t ··

1· e12

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In presenting a list of authorities which have been consulted·
in the preparation of th is volume, the author makes this general
acknowled meat; that,
P,9~Iity, fias oeen
as in some i
tl~ntrtt"f!l'f"rom the pages
.f: those, i whom he has found a nythi ng of value subservient to
his purpose ; in some he has taken the liberty to alter the phraseology, and in others entirely to remodel the principles which he
has found scattered throu ghout these authorities. The works
to which he has been most largely indebted, are llooth's Principles of English Composition, Walker's 1'eacher's Assistant,
Newman's, Ill air's, \V hately's, and J amiesoo's Rhetoric, and
Jardine's Principles of English Composition. Other works from
which he has gleaned something of value, or hints, for the improvement of what he has elsewhere gathered are as follow :
Rippingham's Ru les of English Composition; Rice's Composition; Carey's English Proso<l'y; Roe's E lements of English
Metre ; Steele's Prmiodia &ationalis ; Crabbe's Synonyrnes;
Harris' Hermes; Pickbourne on the English Verb ; D'Israeli's
Curiosities of Modern Literaturl'l; Walker's, Johnson's, Sh e ridan's, Richardson's, and Webster's Dictionaries; Lock e's Essay
on the Understanding; Wattiton the mind; Dictionary of Quotations; Andrew's and Stoddard's, and Adam's Latin Grammars;
.Murray's, Brown's, Felton's, L ennie's, Parke r's and Fox's English G rammars ; Hedge's Logic ; Enclyclopredia Americana ;
Dictionary of Arts and Sciences ; Towne's A alysis of Derivative Words ; American First Class Book ; Ma1o's essons on
Objects; Milla r's Practice of English Composition; Lockhart's
Life of Scott; Tay lor's Elements of Thought; ,llannarn's Pulpit
Assistant ; Claude's Essay on the Composition of a Sermon ;
The London Quarterly Journal of Education ; Beau ties of History; The Spectator; Inn's Rhetorical Class Book; Lallemand's
Artillery Service.*
" On the 1S2d page will be found a li st of particulars which should enter
into general descriptions. In "Lallemand's Artillery Service," under
the ar ticle "Reconnoitring," will be fo und s imilat· and more extensive
lidts of particulars for desc riptions, as useful to the literary writer, as to the
topographical c ngi 11c"1·. Tim author 1·1,grcts that he co11l1I not pro<'.urc the
valuable work of Lallemand, in season to be rendered available i11 tha t part
of this vo lume.

INDEX.

r.!r
I

LESSON
I.
II.
Ill.

IV.

Objects and their Parts
.
•
Objects, their Qua liti es, and Uses •
•
Objects, their Parts, Qua lities, Properties, Uses, and
Appendages

PAGE

VII.
VIII.
IX .

x.

XI.
XII.
Xlll.
XIV.

xv.

XVI.
XVII ..
XVIII.
XIX .

xx.

9

Evc 11ls

.
•
S im ple Dialogue , or <;:onversation
The Use of Words
.
U se of \Vordd and Phrases
Use of \Vords and Phrases, continue~!. - Suppiy of.
Omissions
.
.
.
.
.
.
Use of \Vords with the Expans ion of the Idea
Arrangement of Words in Sen tences .
•
Se ntences . - Words to be arranged
A11alys is of Componnd Se11 te11ces
Synthes i• of Simple Sentences
Arrangement, or Classification
Capital L etters
Punctuati on
•
.
.
•
.
D erivatio11 and Composition of \Vords
Syno nymes
. ' .
.
.
.
.
.
Variety of Expression. - Methods of Inversion and .
'fransposition .

XXJ.
XXJI.
XX111.
XXIV .

xxv.

XXVI.
XXVII.
XXVlll.

XX IX.

xxx.

XXXI.

XXXII.

xxxn r.
XXX!V.
xxxv.

.

.

.

.

. .

.

r'

8

V. Objects and Events
VI.

I

7

.

Vari ety of Expression, continued. - Periphras is or
Circum locution
•
•
•
.
.
'
Var!ery of E,xpressi.on, conti.nuerl. - Tautology
.
Vanety of Expre"s ton, continued. - Plconas111, Verbos ity, and Redundancy
•
•
•
.
•
Variety of Ex pression , continued. - Antononmsia
Variety of Express ion, continued. - Euphem ism or·
S oftened Expression
.
.
•
.
.'
•
Var iety of Expression, continued. - Sarne Idea expressed in differe nt Words
.
.
Tran sposition , or the Conversion of Poetry into Prose •
Anagrams
.
.
.
•
•
.
•
Of Grammatica l Propr iety
.
.
,
•
.
On the Se lection of Word s and Expressions. - Purity
l'ropriet.y, and Prcci siu11
,
.
.
•
'
Of the Constrnctiun of Sen tences. - Clearness Uni~y
Strength , and Hannony
.
•
.
'
'
Onornatopc.cia, or Sound adapted to the Sense
Definition and Distinction, or Difference
A!1alog.l'., or Resemblance . .
.
•
•
•
F1gur?t1ve L~nguage. - F igurative Language converted mto P lam •

JO
JO
12
21

i

~i

22
23

I'!

r

25
26

28
29
30
33

~

·1

35
37

48
54
63
76 ,
77

79
82
83
85
88

101
102

109
110
116
ll8
123
124

ll '

I "

.

~

~ l

.

'

I ,('

.

~

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.

~-

---------.------I

414

I

INDEX.

XXXVI.

Figurative Language, continued. - Plain Language ·
converted into Figurative
,
•
130
XXXVJI. Prosopopoo ia , or Personification
132
XXXVIII. Simile, or Comparison
135
XXXIX. Antithes is, or Contrast ,
137
XL. Parallel
•
•
•
.
•
•
140
XLI. Allegory, Apologuc, Fahie, Ri1ldlc, Charndc, Enigma,
ltcbus, l'urouomasia or l'un, Conundrum •
•
153
XLII. Hyperbol e, or Exaggeration
155
156
XLlll. A postrophc
•
•
•
.
•
157
XLlY. Interrogation, Exclamation, and Vi sion
XLV. Climax and Anti-climax
158
XLVI. Allusion
161
161
XLVII. Irony
•
XLVJII. Alliteration
162
•
.
XLTX . Paraphrase , or Explana ti on
165
•
L. Narrat.ion, with a n Outline .
166
LI. Narration from Detached Sentences
169
Lii. N arration amplified
170
LUI. Description
182
.
.
.
•
•
•
LIV. Narrati on and Descr iption unitccl .
.
183
19,l
LY. Epistolary Correspondence, or L etter \Yriting
LYI. Simple Themes
209
LYII. Complex Themes
214
LYlll. Easy Essays •
218
LIX. l\leth o<lizing
224
228
LX. ln1•estigation •
•
.
•
LXI. On the Trea tment of a Suhject
234
LXII. Generalization of a Subject .
242
LXllT. Poetry and Versific~•tion
245
.
•
LXIY. Rhy.me. - Vocabulary of Rhymes
256
L X Y. Lyri c P oetry
.
.
.
•
292
LXYI. Pastoral a nd Elegiac Poetry •
297
LXVII. Of the higher Species of Poetry
302
LXYlll. Style
•
.
.
•
.
•
.
•
305
LXIX. Direc\ion~ to Students, a~d Sng~estions to. Teachers, in
reue_wmg and correcting their Compositions , &c.
308
LXX. Correction of the Press. - Techni cal Terms relating to
Bon k a
.
•
•
•
•
•
•
.
314
LXX I. Obium1·y Notice
Bl7
LXX II. Critical Notices
320
LXX lll. College Exercises
321
LXXIV. Orations •
353
LXXV. Sermons
381
A LIST OF SunJECTS SUGGESTED FOR '!'HF.M ES, EssAvs,
CONFERENCES, CoLLoQoYs, Dis c us s t oNs, D1sQ01s1T10Ns,
D1ssEttTATHINS, ORATIONS, POEM S, Di:scR IPTIONS, NAnttATlONS, &c.

392

LI ST OF WORKS CONSULTED IN THE PREPARATION OF THIS
VOLUME

412

I·

i

INDEX OF SUBJECTS

I

-I·

MENTIONED IN THIS VOLUME.

Page.

Page.

Arrangement of words in sentences ,
Ana lyses of compound sentcn-

27

~es ,
29
Arrangement or classification,
33
Apostrophe, meaning of,
42
A ccent,
43
Allix,
49
52
alphabeti cal synopsis of,
A postrophc,
89
A11agra111s,
JOO
An a logy or resemblance,
123
Antithesis or contrast,
137
Allegory,
, 145
Apologue,
150
"
how it differs from a
paralle l,
151
Apostrophe,
156
Anticlimax,
160
161
Allusion,
162
Alliteration,
alphabetical,
16•1
Amphibrach,
246
A naprest,
246
ii lexniulrinc mea sure,
248
Anap:cstic verse ,
2-18
Anti strophe,
294
Acrostic,
296
Apophthegm,
304
Apothem,
304
Apothegm,
304
Argumentative writing,
305
Barbarism,
108
Blank verse ,
256
Honts ri1i1es,
257
I3allad,
294
Buco I ics ,
297
303
urletta

'
Compound sentences,
analysis
of,
Cap ital letters,
Comma, meaning of,

29
35
38

Colon and semi-colon, when to
be used,
39
Catchword,
45
Composition of words,
48
Circumlocution,
76
Clearness,
110
Comparison,
135
"
principal purposes of, 136
rules in drawing,
136
15:!, 296
Charade,
154
Co nundrum, 11.ote,
158
Climax,
205
Cards , forms of,
246
Couplet,
249
Cresura,
295
Cantata,
295
Canzonet,
303
Co medy,
320
Cr iti ca l notice,
321
College exercises,
321
Conference,
824
"
mo1lcl of,
Conferences, l isl of subjects for, 396
321
Colloquy,
326
"
morlel of,
Colloquya 0 1· colloi111inl discus·
399
s ions, list of subjects for,
12, 321
Dia logue,
the 1'•1tor and bis
"
14
Pupils ,
Derivation and composition of
48
words ,
Derivative words, Latin and
52
Saxon,
89
Direr·e~is,
D efinition and distinction or
118
diffe rence,
182
Description,
183
"
terms used in,
"
particulars to be noticed,
184
Sir Waller Scott's
fidelity aud accuracy in,
184

"

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416

INDEX OF StlBJECTS.
·

INDEX OF SUBJECTS.

Page.

Description, specific preferred to
general term s,
a nd narrati ve united,
Defen ce of literary studies in
mr. n of business ,
D istich,
Dactyl,
Dac tylic verse is defective anaJ>;.c stic,
Duet,
Dramatic poetry,
Didacti c poe try,
D escriptive poetry,
Drama,
"
rules of,
Descripti1•c writing,
Didac ti c writing ,
Directions for ac11uiring a good
style,
to students in re1' iew-

Pago.

Epopea or Epopcc ia,
186 Epilogue,
188 E ssay,
"
model of,
236 l~thica.l 1.lo s11uisition, model of,
2116

.l •~xonl111m,

246 Fronti spi ece , ·
Fi~ura~i\'e lang uage ,.

.

302
303
328

329.
336
m;.1
4<l
124
12-l

218
'
converted mto phun,
295 Fi~ure, e lymol.o gicaJ,
124
302
sy ntacti ca l,
124
302
rhetori ca l,
"
124
302 Figurat ive language ,
130
302
plain converted into , 130
" "
303 Fahie,
150
305 Feet, poetical,
246
305
" sccon<larJ', g ive variety
to melody,
252
3Q7 Farce,
303
Folio,
316
ing and correcting
Forensic di sputa ti on,
348
tl1e il' compos itions, 309 Gra111111ali cal peculiarities and .,,.
316
Duo<lcci 1no,
impropri eties,
G7
334 Genevra,
Disserta tion,
95
372 Gram111atical propriety,
"
Bowdoin Prize,
102
Disqui s ition,
336 Generalization of a subject,
242
Discuss ion, philosophica l,
339 Hyperbaton,
89
342 H a rmony,
"
literary,
110
delibent li\fe,
344
"
rules for,
114
402 H yperbo le or exagaeration,
"
li st of suhjects for,
155
Di spu tati on, fore nsic,
348 H emisti ch,
"
'2<16
"
"
li st of 8UbHypenneter,
.247
jects for, 401 H eroic mea sure,
255, 247
philosophical,
352 Hymns,
294
"
Events,
10 Higher spec ies of poetry,
302
Eyes ancl no eyes, or the art of
IIarangne,
354
14 Italic words in Old and New
seein~,
E xpa 11s1on of an idea,
25
T esla menl s,
45
41 Inversion and tran sposition,
Ellipsis how indicated,
Euphonic l 1~ tters,
~9
me thods of,
G3
73 lmprupri etv ,
English language , of the,
108
89 lnt~ rroga ti~n,
Elision,
157
Enallage,
89 Irony,
lGl
89 Invitation, notes of,
Ellipsis,
202
Enin·ma,
152
"
models of the forms of, 203
157 Inves tiga tion,
Exciamation,
228
184 larnhus,
Epi stolary cotTe•pondence,
246
218 Iambic verse,
Essays, easy,
247
257 Impromptu,
Echo ve rses ,
296
29·1 ldyl, l<lyllion or Idyllimn,
Epode,
297
296 Jests and J okes ,
15,l
Epig ra m,
297 Legend of !11odena,
Elegiac poetry,
97
297 Looseness of style, cause of,
:Eclogue,
109
297 Letter-writing,
Elegy,
184
297 Lette1·s, s tyle of,
Epitaph;
195
302
Epic poetry,
" what they should embrace, 196
302 Letter, model of the form of a, 197
Epic,

Jlngn .

l .. cttr ri::, fc>rmal,
fol d ing of,
directions for superscription and forms of address ,
directions for scaling,
Lyric poerry,
Lin es addre5sed to Lady I3yron,
Logugriph,
Lampoon,
L etters, frequency of their occur ~e nce, respectively,
Literary discussion,
Metaphor,
Metaphors, rules of,
l\[pga n, story of,
Methodizing,
Metre,

Pngr.

197 Poetry,
.
"
figura!ive langnnpe in,
198
"

what Il consists in,

200 Pyrrhic ,
20-1. P ~ alms,
292 l\ca n ~ ,
293 Pastoral Poetry,
296 l'astorals,
304 Poetry, e pir.,
"
didac tic,
descrirtive,
316

342

417

dramatic,

245
245
245
246
294
29-l
297
297
302
302
302
302

303
126 Poetic justice,
303
130 Prologue,
Parodies,
303
175
l'nHquinaclc,
30·l
224
30-l
246 Poe try, scntirncntul,
Pathetic writing,
305
" long, common, short, par331
246 Poem (college), model of,
ti cnlar,
" li st of su bj ects for,
406
296
Madri ga ls,
297 Philosophical cli sr. uss ion,
339
Monologue ,
352
303 Philo•ophical di sputati on,
Moc k heroics,
Pathetic pa rt of a n oration,
354
Made of correcting a composi22
ti on,
312 Phrnses, use of,
Punctuation,
37
Ma rk s used by printers in cor"
importance
of,
37
recting the press ,
314
rul
es
of,
38
Matignon, Dr. Francis, obitua38
317 Period, meaning of,
ry notice of,
Parenthesis,
40
Newton, Sir I saac, how he con49
102 Prefix,
cea led his di scoveri es,
"
Alphabetical Synopses of, 50
166
Narrati on with an outline,
68
from detached sentences, 169 Preposition, how to be used,
76
170 Periphras is,
" ... amplified,
l'l eonasm,
79
" particulars generally em89
170 P a rngoge,
braced in,
89
188 Prosthes is,
" descripti on united,
89
253 Pleonasm ,
N onsense verses,
305 Poetic cliction,
90
N(lrrative writi11g,
7 Participle in i11 g, when used in
Objects and th e ir parts,
a passive sense,
105, n ntr.
8
" " qua liti es an<l uses ,
Purity, propri ety, preci sion,
108
"
pa rtR, qua liti es, uses ,
108
and appendages,
9 Propriety, rules of,
109
Objects and eve nts,
10 Precision, definition of,
Onomatopreia,
116 l'rosopopre ia or personification, 132
140
Ocie,
294 Parallel,
"
between Pope and
Ornamentive style,
305
Dryden,
140
Octavo,
316
Obituary noti ce,
317 Parallel between Jay and Hamilton,
142
Obituary notice of Dr. Matignon, 317
246
Orati on,
353 Quantity of syllal>lcs,
295
college models of, 354, 358, Q1mtrains,
362 Quartette,
295
316
Oration valedi ctory, English,
36[i Q uarto,
44
Oration valedictory, Latin,
371 Running-title,
49
"
li st of subjects for,
408 Root of a word,
49
Paronomas ia or pun,
153 Radi cal letters,
79
Paraphrase,
165 Redundancy,

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INDEX TO SUBJECTS.
Page.

Pnge.

J

152 ' Sermon, general rnles of,
382
Riddle,
153
"
skeletons of,
388, 390
Rebus, note,
176 Subjects, list of, for Themes,
Revolutionary story,
256
Essay•, Conferences, Co lloRhyme,
2!i7
•111ys, l>iscussions, l>i"1111isi"
vocabulary of,
tio11s, Uisscrlations , Orations,
"
shou ltl begin on the accented syllable,
256
Poems, Descriptions, Narrations, &c.,
392
perfect and allowable,
256
"
rules of,
256, 258 Technical terms relating to books, 44
Rondeau,
296 Tautology,
77
Rondo,
296 Trnn.sposition, or conversion
Roundo,
296
of poetry into prose,
88
Roundel,
296 Tmesis,
89
Roundelay,
296 Trope,
126
Romance,
302 Titles of a1ldress,
200
Synthesis of simple sentences,
30 Themes, simple,
209
Semicolon, meaning of,
38
"
directio11~ for writing, 209
Synonymes,
54
complex,
214
complex, directions for
89
Synreresis,
"
Selection of wordS'and expreswriting,
215
392
sions,
subject for, List of,
108
Solecism,
108 Trochee,
2-16
246
Strength,
110 Tibrach,
"
of a sentence, rules
Trnchaic verse,
247
111
for preserving,
is defective lam116 r hie_,
Sound adapted to the sense,
248
135 1e!·z1nes,
Simile,
295
161 1no,
295
Sarcasm,
210 Tale,
Subject, method of treating,
302
"
on tl1e treatment of a, 234 Trage<ly,
303
245 Travesties,
Stanza,
303
246 Type, different kinds of,
Spondee,
316
Specimens of different kinds
Title-page,
44
of English verse,
250 Theme, model of,
322
Strophe,
294 Treatise,
321
Sonnet,
295 1"1ract,
321
295 Thesis,
Sonnet, to one beloved,
32 1
304 T exts, on the choice of,
Satire,
381
304
Unity,
Sentimental Poetry,
110
305
Ill
"
rules for preserving,
Style,
306 Vignette,
44
'"' concise,
306 Verbosity,
ne rvous,
79
306 Variety of expression, same
" diffuse,
306
e legant,
iJea dilT1<re11tly expressed,
84
306 Vision,
feeble,
157
306 Versification,
245
dry,
306 Ven,e,
245
plain,
306 Verses English, how divide1l,
247
neat,
307 Valedictory, Orntio11 in F.11glish, 3fi6
" flowery, 01· florid,
ll07
"
"
in Latin, 371
" sirnplc,
:107 Word•, use of",
" alfoctcd,
21
cc vel1c111c11l,
307 \Vi11gcd worshippers,
lW:J
Suggestions to teachers, wi th
Writing na rrative,
305
regard to the written exer"
descripti\'e,
305
309
cises of students,
didactic,
305
353
Speech,
argumentative,
305
Sermon, on the composition of 381
1

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PUBLISHED BY ROBERT S. DA VIS, BOSTON.
GREENLEAF'S INTilODUCTION TO THE NATIONAL ARI'fHJ\1ETIC,
On 1hc l111l11ctivc Sy"tcm, co111bi11i11g the A11alytie a11<l Synthetic Mct.hoils,
. with the Ca11cclling Sy8lcm, i11 which the Principles of Arithmetic are ex·i plaineJ and illnstt·~ted in a familiar manner ; d~signed for Common Scho?ls
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GREENLEAF'S NATIONAL ARITHMETIC,
,
Designed for the more advanced scho lars in Common Schools and Academies, forming a volume of upwards of 300 page•, hanclsomely printed on fine
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GREEN LEAF'S COMPLETE KEY (for teachers only.)
B. GREENLEAF, Esq. Dear Sir: \Ve have examined your Arithmetics,
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ALGER'S MURRAY'S ENGLISH GRAMMAR, AND EXERCIS.ES.

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SMITH'S CLASS IlOOK OF ANATOMY,
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Greek Exerci ses; conta ining the suusta nce of the Greek Sy11tax, illustrated by Passages from the best G ree k Authors , lo he writle11 om from the
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Fi sk'• Greek Exerc ises are well adapted lo il lustrnle the rules of the
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LEVERETT'S CMSAR'S COMMENTARIES.
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FOLSOM'S CICERO'S ORATIONS.
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BOSTON SCHOOL ATLAS, one vnl111nc, quarto.
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