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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/19719-0.txt b/19719-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3ee03f5 --- /dev/null +++ b/19719-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8595 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Art Of Writing & Speaking The English +Language, by Sherwin Cody + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Art Of Writing & Speaking The English Language + Word-Study + +Author: Sherwin Cody + +Release Date: December 2, 2007 [EBook #19719] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ART OF WRITING *** + + + + +Produced by Andrew Hodson + + + + + + +Language = USA English. Characters with { } around them show those added +as there are some mistakes in the book & for other reasons & ¤¬ִªЪđəפּזłһ$ +show the extras of #-.abdegilns. (I changed mathematical & meter (rhythmic +arrangement of syllables in verse) but maybe they are correct and the +others are wrong). I did not change _Shak{e}spe{a}re, mortgagəor_ & +some words in lists. Broad _a_ has 1 dot before & 1 under instead of +2 dots under it & the character ұ should have its line over the letter y. +This arrow sign after a word shows that the next 1 should start the +next column. “Special SYSTEM Edition” brought from frontispiece. +The 2nd. book of “Composition & Rhetoric” is also in this file. + + +THE ART σƒ WRITING & SPEAKING ךђℓ ENGLISH LANGUAGE + +SHERWIN CODY + +Special S Y S T E M Edition + +WORD-STUDY + +The Old Greek Press +_Chicago New{ }York Boston_ + +_Revised Edition_. + + +_Copyright,1903,_ + +By SHERWIN CODY. + +_Note_. The thanks of the author are due to Dr. Edwin H. Lewis, of the +Lewis Institute, Chicago, and to Prof. John F. Genung, Ph. D., of Amherst +College, for suggestions made after reading the proof of this series. + + + +CONTENTS. + +THE ART OF WRITING AND SPEAKING THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. + +GENERAL INTRODUCTION… 7 + + +WORD-STUDY + +INTRODUCTION——THE STUDY OF SPELLING + +CHAPTER I. LETTERS AND SOUNDS + {VOWELS + CONSONANTS + EXERCISES + THE DICTIONARY} + +CHAPTER II. WORD-BUILDING + {PREFIXES} + +CHAPTER III. WORD-BUILDING———Rules and Applications + {EXCEPTIONS} + +CHAPTER IV. PRONUNCIATION + +CHAPTER V. A SPELLING DRILL + + APPENDIX + + +The Art of Writing and Speaking the English Language + +GENERAL INTRODUCTION + +If there is a subject of really universal interest and utility, +it is the art of writing and speaking one's own language effectively. +It is the basis of culture, as we all know; but it is infinitely more +than that: it is the basis of business. No salesman can sell anything +unless he can explain the merits of his goods in _effective_ English +(among our people), or can write an advertisement equally effective, +or present his ideas, and the facts, in a letter. Indeed, the way +we talk, and write letters, largely determines our success in life. + +Now it is well for us to face at once the counter-statement that the +most ignorant and uncultivated men often succeed best in business, +and that misspelled, ungrammatical advertisements have brought in +millions of dollars. It is an acknowledged fact that our business +circulars and letters are far inferior in correctness to those of Great +Britain; yet they are more effective in getting business. As far as +spelling is concerned, we know that some of the masters of literature +have been atrocious spellers and many suppose that when one can sin in +such company, sinning is, as we might say, a “beauty spot”, a defect in +which we can even take pride. + +Let us examine the facts in the case more closely. First of all, language +is no more than a medium; it is like air to the creatures of the land or +water to fishes. If it is perfectly clear and pure, we do not notice it +any more than we notice pure air when the sun is shining in a clear sky, +or the taste of pure cool water when we drink a glass on a hot day. Unless +the sun is shining, there is no brightness; unless the water is cool, there +is no refreshment. The source of all our joy in the landscape, of the +luxuriance of fertile nature, is the sun and not the air. Nature would be +more prodigal in Mexico than in Greenland, even if the air in Mexico were +as full of soot and smoke as the air of Pittsburg{h}, or loaded with the +acid from a chemical factory. So it is with language. Language is merely +a medium for thoughts, emotions, the intelligence of a finely wrought +brain, and a good mind will make far more out of a bad medium than a poor +mind will make out of the best. A great violinist will draw such music +from the cheapest violin that the world is astonished. However is that any +reason why the great violinist should choose to play on a poor violin; or +should one say nothing of the smoke nuisance in Chicago because more light +and heat penetrate its murky atmosphere than are to be found in cities only +a few miles farther north? The truth is, we must regard the bad spelling +nuisance, the bad grammar nuisance, the inártistic and rambling language +nuisance, precisely as we would the smoke nuisance, the sewer-gas nuisance, +the stock-yards' smell nuisance. Some dainty people prefer pure air and +correct language; but we now recognize that purity is something more than +an esthetic fad, that it is essential to our health and well-being, and +therefore it becomes a matter of universal public interest, in language +as well as in air. + +There is a general belief that while bad air may be a positive evil +influence, incorrect use of language is at most no more than a negative +evil: that while it may be a good thing to be correct, no special harm +is involved in being incorrect. Let us look into this point. + +While language as the medium of thought may be compared to air as the +medium of the sun's influence, in other respects it is like the skin of +the body; a scurvy skin shows bad blood within, and a scurvy language shows +inaccurate thought and a confused mind. And as a disease once fixed on the +skin reacts and poisons the blood in turn as it has first been poisoned by +the blood, so careless use of language if indulged reacts on the mind to +make it permanently and increasingly careless, illogical, and inaccurate +in its thinking. + +The ordinary person will probably not believe this, because he conceives +of good use of language as an accomplishment to be learned from books, +a prim system of genteel manners to be put on when occasion demands, +a sort of superficial education in the correct thing, or, as the boys +would say, “the proper caper.” In this, however, he is mistaken. +Language which expresses the thought with strict logical accuracy is +correct language, and language which is sufficiently rich in its resources +to express thought fully, in all its lights and bearings, is effective +language. If the writer or speaker has a sufficient stock of words and +forms at his disposal, he has only to use them in a strictly logical way +and with sufficient fulness to be both correct and effective. If his +mind can always be trusted to work accurately, he need not know a word +of grammar except what he has imbibed unconsciously in getting his stock +of words and expressions. Formal grammar is purely for critical purposes. +It is no more than a standard measuring stick by which to try the work +that has been done and find out if it is imperfect at any point. Of course +constant correction of inaccuracies schools the mind and puts it on its +guard so that it will be more careful the next time it attempts expression; +but we cannot avoid the conclusion that if the mind lacks material, lacks +knowledge of the essential elements of the language, it should go to the +original source from which it got its first supply, namely to reading and +hearing that which is acknowledged to be correct and sufficient―as the +child learns from its mother. All the scholastic and analytic grammar in +the world will not enrich the mind in language to any appreciable extent. + +And now we may consider another objector, who says, “I have studied +grammar for years and it has done me no good.” In view of what has +just been said, we may easily concede that such is very likely to +have been the case. A measuring stick is of little value unless you +have something to measure. Language cannot be acquired, only tested, +by analysis, and grammar is an analytic, not a constructive science. + +We have compared bad use of language to a scurvy condition of the skin. +To cure the skin we must doctor the blood; and to improve the language +we should begin by teaching the mind to think. But that, you will say, +is a large undertaking. Yes, but after all it is the most direct and +effective way. All education should be in the nature of teaching +the mind to think, and the teaching of language consists in teaching +thinking in connection with word forms and expression through +language. The unfortunate thing is that teachers of language have +failed to go to the root of the trouble, and enormous effort has +counted for nothing, and besides has led to discouragement. + +The American people are noted for being hasty in all they do. Their +manufactures are quickly made and cheap. They have not hitherto +had time to secure that perfection in minute details which constitutes +“quality.” The slow-going Europeans still excel in nearly all fine +and high-grade forms of manufacture―fine pottery, fine carpets and +rugs, fine cloth, fine bronze and other art wares. In our language, +too, we are hasty, and therefore imperfect. Fine logical accuracy +requires more time than we have had to give to it, and we read the +newspapers, which are very poor models of language, instead of books, +which should be far better. Our standard of business letters is very low. +It is rare to find a letter of any length without one or more errors of +language, to say nothing of frequent errors in spelling made by ignorant +stenographers and not corrected by the business men who sign the letters. + +But a change is coming over us. We have suddenly taken to reading +books, and while they are not always the best books, they are better +than newspapers. And now a young business man feels that it is +distinctly to his advantage if he can dictate a thoroughly good +letter to his superior or to a well informed customer. Good letters +raise the tone of a business house, poor letters give the idea +that it is a cheapjack concern. In social life, well written letters, +like good conversational powers, bring friends and introduce the +writer into higher circles. A command of language is the index of +culture, and the uneducated man or woman who has become wealthy +or has gained any special success is eager to put on this wedding +garment of refinement. If he continues to regard a good command +of language as a wedding garment, he will probably fail in his effort; +but a few will discover the way to self-education and actively follow +it to its conclusion adding to their first success this new achievement. + +But we may even go farther. The right kind of language-teaching will +also give us power, a kind of eloquence, a skill in the use of words, which +will enable us to frame advertisements which will draw business, letters +which will win customers, and to speak in that elegant and forceful way so +effective in selling goods. When all advertisements are couched in very +imperfect language, and all business letters are carelessly written, of +course no one has an advantage over another, and a good knowledge and +command of language would not be much of a recommendation to a business +man who wants a good assistant. But when a few have come in and by their +superior command of language gained a distinct advantage over rivals, then +the power inherent in language comes into universal demand——the business +standard is raised. There are many signs now that the business standard +in the use of language is being distinctly raised. Already a stenographer +who does not make errors commands a salary from 25 per cent. to 50 per +cent. higher than the average, and is always in demand. Advertisement +writers must have not only business instinct but language instinct, +and knowledge of correct, as well as forceful, expression{.} + +Granted, then, that we are all eager to better our knowledge of the +English language, how shall we go about it? + +There are literally thousands of published books devoted to the study +and teaching of our language. In such a flood it would seem that we +should have no difficulty in obtaining good guides for our study. + +But what do we find? We find spelling-books filled with lists of words to +be memorized; we find grammars filled with names and definitions of all +the different forms which the language assumes; we find rhetorics filled +with the names of every device ever employed to give effectiveness to +language; we find books on literature filled with the names, dates of birth +and death, and lists of works, of every writer any one ever heard of: +and when we have learned all these names we are no better off than when +we started. It is true that in many of these books we may find prefaces +which say, “All other books err in clinging too closely to mere system, +to names; but we will break away and give you the real thing.” But they +don't do it; they can't afford to be too radical, and so they merely modify +in a few details the same old system, the system of names. Yet it is a +great point gained when the necessity for a change is realized. + +How, then, shall we go about our mastery of the English language? + +Modern science has provided us a universal method by which we may study +and master any subject. As applied to an art, this method has proved +highly successful in the case of music. It has not been applied to +language because there was a well fixed method of language study +in existence long before modern science was even dreamed of, and that +ancient method has held on with wonderful tenacity. The great fault with +it is that it was invented to apply to languages entirely different from +our own. Latin grammar and Greek grammar were mechanical systems of +endings by which the relationships of words were indicated. Of course the +relationship of words was at bottom logical, but the mechanical form was +the chief thing to be learned. Our language depends wholly (or very nearly +so) on arrangement of words, and the key is the logical relationship. +A man who knows all the forms of the Latin or Greek language can write +it with substantial accuracy; but the man who would master the English +language must go deeper, he must master the logic of sentence structure +or word relations. We must begin our study at just the opposite end from +the Latin or Greek; but our teachers of language have balked at a complete +reversal of method, the power of custom and time has been too strong, and +in the matter of grammar we are still the slaves of the ancient world. +As for spelling, the irregularities of our language seem to have driven us +to one sole method, memorizing: and to memorize every word in a language +is an appalling task. Our rhetoric we have inherited from the middle ages, +from scholiasts, refiners, and theological logicians, a race of men who got +their living by inventing distinctions and splitting hairs. The fact is, +prose has had a very low place in the literature of the world until +within a century; all that was worth saying was said in poetry, which +the rhetoricians were forced to leave severely alone, or in oratory, +from which all their rules were derived; and since written prose language +became a universal possession through the printing press and the +newspaper we have been too busy to invent a new rhetoric. + +Now, language is just as much a natural growth as trees or rocks or +human bodies, and it can have no more irregularities, even in the matter +of spelling, than these have. Science would laugh at the notion of +memorizing every individual form of rock. It seeks the fundamental laws, +it classifies and groups, and even if the number of classes or groups +is large, still they have a limit and can be mastered. Here we have a +solution of the spelling problem. In grammar we find seven fundamental +logical relationships, and when we have mastered these and their chief +modifications and combinations, we have the essence of grammar as truly +as if we knew the name for every possible combination which our seven +fundamental relationships might have. Since rhetoric is the art of +appealing to the emotions and intelligence of our hearers, we need to +know, not the names of all the different artifices which may be employed, +but the nature and laws of emotion and intelligence as they may be +reached through language; for if we know what we are hitting at, a little +practice will enable us to hit accurately; whereas if we knew the name of +every kind of blow, and yet were ignorant of the thing we were hitting at, +namely the intelligence and emotion of our fellow man, we would be forever +striking into the air,―striking cleverly perhaps, but ineffectively. + +Having got our bearings, we find before us a purely practical problem, +that of leading the student through the maze of a new science and teaching +him the skill of an old art, exemplified in a long line of masters. + +By way of preface we may say that the mastery of the English language +(or any language) is almost the task of a lifetime. A few easy lessons +will have no effect. We must form a habit of language study that will +grow upon us as we grow older, and little by little, but never by leaps, +shall we mount up to the full expression of all that is in us. + + +WORD-STUDY + +INTRODUCTION + +THE STUDY OF SPELLING. + +The mastery of English spelling is a serious under-taking. In the first +place, we must actually memorize from one to three thousand words which +are spelled in more or less irregular ways. The best that can be done with +these words is to classify them as much as possible and suggest methods +of association which will aid the memory. But after all, the drudgery of +memorizing must be gone through with. + +Again, those words called homonyms, which are pronounced alike but spelled +differently, can be studied only in connection with their meaning, since +the meaning and grammatical use in the sentence is our only key to their +form. So we have to go considerably beyond the mere mechanical association +of letters. + +Besides the two or three thousand common irregular words, the dictionary +contains something over two hundred thousand other words. Of course no one +of us can possibly have occasion to use all of those words; but at the same +time, every one of us may sooner or later have occasion to use any one of +them. As we cannot tell before hand what ones we shall need, we should be +prepared to write any or all of them upon occasion. Of course we may refer +to the dictionary; but this is not always, or indeed very often, possible. +It would obviously be of immense advantage to us if we could find a key to +the spelling of these numerous but infrequently used words. + +The first duty of the instructor in spelling should be to provide such +a key. We would suppose, off-hand, that the three hundred thousand +school-teachers in the United States would do this immediately and +without suggestion——certainly that the writers of school-books would. +But many things have stood in the way. It is only within a few years, +comparatively speaking, that our language has become at all fixed in its +spelling. Noah Webster did a great deal to establish principles, and +bring the spelling of as many words as possible to conform with these +principles and with such analogies as seemed fairly well established. +But other dictionary-makers have set up their ideas against his, +and we have a conflict of authorities. If for any reason one finds +himself spelling a word differently from the world about him, he +begins to say, “Well, that is the spelling given in Worcester, +or the Century, or the Standard, or the new Oxford.” So the word +“authority” looms big on the horizon; and we think so much about +authority, and about different authorities, that we forget +to look for principles, as Mr. Webster would have us do. + +Another reason for neglecting rules and principles is that the lists of +exceptions are often so formidable that we get discouraged and exclaim, +“If nine tenths of the words I use every day are exceptions to the +rules, what is the use of the rules anyway!” Well, the words which +constitute that other tenth will aggregate in actual numbers far more +than the common words which form the chief part of everyday speech, +and as they are selected at random from a vastly larger number, +the only possible way to master them is by acquiring principles, +consciously or unconsciously, which will serve as a key to them. +Some people have the faculty of unconsciously formulating principles +from their everyday observations, but it is a slow process, and +many never acquire it unless it is taught them. + +The spelling problem is not to learn how to spell nine tenths of +our words correctly. Nearly all of us can and do accomplish that. +The good speller must spell nine hundred and ninety-nine one +thousandths of his word correctly, which is quite another matter. +Some of us go even one figure higher. + +Our first task is clearly to commit the common irregular words to memory. +How may we do that most easily? It is a huge task at best, but every +pound of life energy which we can save in doing it is so much gained for +higher efforts. We should strive to economize effort in this just as +the manufacturer tries to economize in the cost of making his goods. + +In this particular matter, it seems to the present writer that makers +of modern spelling-books have committed a great blunder in mixing +indiscriminately regular words with irregular, and common words with +uncommon. Clearly we should memorize first the words we use most +often, and then take up those which we use less frequently. But the +superintendent of the Evanston schools has reported that out of one +hundred first-reader words which he gave to his grammar classes as +a spelling test, some were misspelled by all but sixteen per cent{.} +of the pupils. And yet these same pupils were studying busily away on +_categories, concatenation,_ and _amphibious_. The spelling-book makers +feel that they must put hard words into their spellers. Their books are +little more than lists of words, and any one can make lists of common, easy +words. A spelling-book filled with common easy words would not seem to be +worth the price paid for it. Pupils and teachers must get their money's +worth, even if they never learn to spell. Of course the teachers are +expected to furnish drills themselves on the common, easy words; but +unfortunately they take their cue from the spelling-book, each day merely +assigning to the class the next page. They haven't time to select, and +no one could consistently expect them to do otherwise than as they do do. + +To meet this difficulty, the author of this book has prepared a version +of the story of Robinson Crusoe which contains a large proportion of +the common words which offer difficulty in spelling. Unluckily it +is not easy to produce classic English when one is writing under the +necessity of using a vocabulary previously selected. However, if we +concentrate our attention on the word-forms, we are not likely to be +much injured by the ungraceful sentence-forms. This story is not long, +but it should be dictated to every school class, beginning in the +fourth grade, until _every_ pupil can spell _every_ word correctly. +A high percentage is not enough, as in the case of some other studies. +Any pupil who misses a single word in any exercise should be marked zero. + +But even if one can spell correctly every word in this story, he may +still not be a good speller, for there are thousands of other words +to be spelled, many of which are not and never will be found in any +spelling-book. The chief object of a course of study in spelling is to +acquire two habits, the habit of observing articulate sounds, and the +habit of observing word-forms in reading. + +1. Train the Ear. Until the habit of observing articulate sounds +carefully has been acquired, the niceties of pronunciation are beyond +the student's reach, and equally the niceties of spelling are beyond his +reach, too. In ordinary speaking, many vowels and even some consonants +are slurred and obscured. If the ear is not trained to exactness, +this habit of slurring introduces many inaccuracies. Even in careful +speaking, many obscure sounds are so nearly alike that only a finely +trained ear can detect any difference. Who of us notices any +difference between _er_ in _pardoner_ and _or_ in _honor_? Careful +speakers do not pass over the latter syllable quite so hastily as +over the former, but only the most finely trained ear will detect any +difference even in the pronunciation of the most finely trained voice. + +In the lower grades in the schools the ear may be trained by giving +separate utterance to each sound in a given word, as f-r-e-n-d, _friend,_ +allowing each letter only its true value in the word. Still it may also be +obtained by requiring careful and distinct pronunciation in reading, not, +however, to the extent of exaggerating the value of obscure syllables, +or painfully accentuating syllables naturally obscure. + +Adults (but seldom children) may train the ear by reading poetry aloud, +always guarding against the sing-song style, but trying to harmonize +nicely the sense and the rhythm. A trained ear is absolutely necessary +to reading poetry well, and the constant reading aloud of poetry cannot +but afford an admirable exercise. + +For children, the use of diacritical marks has little or no value, until +the necessity arises for consulting the dictionary for pronunciation. +They are but a mechanical system, and the system we commonly use is so +devoid of permanence in its character that every dictionary has a different +system. The one most common in the schools is that introduced by Webster; +but if we would consult the Standard or the Century or the Oxford, we must +learn our system all over again. To the child, any system is a clog and a +hindrance, and quite useless in teaching him phonetic values, wherein the +voice of the teacher is the true medium. + +For older students, however, especially students at home, where no teacher +is available, phonetic writing by means of diacritical marks has great +value.* It is the only practicable way of representing the sounds of the +voice on paper. When the student writes phonetically he is obliged to +observe closely his own voice and the voices of others in ordinary speech, +and so his ear is trained. It also takes the place of the voice for +dictation in spelling tests by mail or through the medium of books. + + *There should be no more marks than there are sounds. When two vowels +have the same sound one should be written as a substitute for the other, +as we have done in this book. + +2. Train the Eye. No doubt the most effective way of learning spelling +is to train the eye carefully to observe the forms of the words we read +in newspapers and in books. If this habit is formed, and the habit of +general reading accompanies it, it is sufficient to make a nearly perfect +speller. The great question is, how to acquire it. + +Of course in order to read we are obliged to observe the forms of words +in a general way, and if this were all that is needed, we should all +be good spellers if we were able to read fluently. But it is not all. +The observation of the general form of a word is not the observation +that teaches spelling. We must have the habit of observing every +letter in every word, and this we are not likely to have unless +we give special attention to acquiring it. + +The “visualization” method of teaching spelling now in use in the +schools is along the line of training the eye to observe every letter +in a word. It is good so far as it goes; but it does not go very far. +The reason is that there is a limit to the powers of the memory, +especially in the observation of arbitrary combinations of letters. +What habits of visualization would enable the ordinary person to +glance at such a combination as the following and write it ten minutes +afterward with no aid but the single glance: _hwgufhtbizwskoplmne?_ +It would require some minutes' study to memorize such a combination, +because there is nothing to aid us but the sheer succession of forms. +The memory works by association. We build up a vast structure of +knowledge, and each new fact or form must be as securely attached +to this as the new wing of a building; and the more points at which +attachment can be formed the more easily is the addition made. + +The Mastery of Irregular Words. + +Here, then, we have the real reason for a long study of principles, +analogies, and classifications. They help us to remember. If I come +to the word _colonnade_ in reading, I observe at once that the double +_n_ is an irregularity. It catches my eye immediately. “Ah!” I reflect +almost in the fraction of a second as I read in continuous flow, “here is +another of those exceptions.” Building on what I already know perfectly +well, I master this word with the very slightest effort. If we can build +up a system which will serve the memory by way of association, so that the +slight effort that can be given in ordinary reading will serve to fix a +word more or less fully, we can soon acquire a marvellous power in the +accurate spelling of words. + +Again: In a spelling-book before me I see lists of words ending in _ise, +ize,_ and _yse,_ all mixed together with no distinction. The arrangement +suggests memorizing every word in the language ending with either of these +terminations, and until we have memorized any particular word we have no +means of knowing what the termination is. If, however, we are taught that +_ize_ is the common ending, that _ise_ is the ending of only thirty-one +words, and _yse_ of only three or four, we reduce our task enormously +and aid the memory in acquiring the few exceptions. When we come to +_franchise_ in reading we reflect rapidly, “Another of those verbs in +_ise_!” or to _paralyse,_ “One of those very few verbs in _yse_!” We +give no thought whatever to all the verbs ending in _ize,_ and so save +so much energy for other acquirements. + +If we can say, “This is a violation of such and such a rule,” or “This +is a strange irregularity,” or “This belongs to the class of words which +substitutes _ea_ for the long sound of _e,_ or for the short sound of _e_.” + +We have an association of the unknown with the known that is the most +powerful possible aid to the memory. The system may fail in and of itself, +but it more than serves its purpose thus indirectly in aiding the memory. + +We have not spoken of the association of word forms with sounds, the +grouping of the letters of words into syllables, and the aid that a careful +pronunciation gives the memory by way of association; for while this is the +most powerful aid of all, it does not need explanation. + +The Mastery of Regular Words. + +We have spoken of the mastery of irregular words, and in the last paragraph +but one we have referred to the aid which general principles give the +memory by way of association in acquiring the exceptions to the rules. +We will now consider the great class of words formed according to fixed +principles. + +Of course these laws and rules are little more than a string of analogies +which we observe in our study of the language. The language was not and +never will be built to fit these rules. The usage of the people is the +only authority. Even clear logic goes down before usage. Languages grow +like mushrooms, or lilies, or bears, or human bodies. Like these they have +occult and profound laws which we can never hope to penetrate,―which are +known only to the creator of all things existent. But as in botany and +zoölogy and physiology we may observe and classify our observations, so we +may observe a language, classify our observations, and create an empirical +science of word-formation. Possibly in time it will become a science +something more than empirical. + +The laws we are able at this time to state with much definiteness are few +(doubling consonants, dropping silent e's, changing y's to i's, accenting +the penultimate and antepenultimate syllables, lengthening and shortening +vowels). In addition we may classify exceptions, for the sole purpose of +aiding the memory. + +Ignorance of these principles and classifications, and knowledge of +the causes and sources of the irregularities, should be pronounced +criminal in a teacher; and failure to teach them, more than criminal in +a spelling-book. It is true that most spelling-books do give them in one +form or another, but invariably without due emphasis or special drill, +a lack which renders them worthless. Pupils and students should be +drilled upon them till they are as familiar as the multiplication table. + +We know how most persons stumble over the pronunciation of names in the +Bible and in classic authors. They are equally nonplussed when called +upon to write words with which they are no more familiar. They cannot +even pronounce simple English names like _Cody,_ which they call +“Coddy,” in analogy with _body,_ because they do not know that in a +word of two syllables a single vowel followed by a single consonant is +regularly long when accented. At the same time they will spell the word +in all kinds of queer ways, which are in analogy only with exceptions, +not with regular formations. Unless a person knows what the regular +principles are, he cannot know how a word should regularly be spelled. +A strange word is spelled quite regularly nine times out of ten, and if +one does not know exactly how to spell a word, it is much more to his +credit to spell it in a regular way than in an irregular way. + +The truth is, the only possible key we can have to those thousands of +strange words and proper names which we meet only once or twice in a +lifetime, is the system of principles formulated by philologists, if for +no other reason, we should master it that we may come as near as possible +to spelling proper names correctly. + + +CHAPTER I. + +LETTERS AND SOUNDS. + +We must begin our study of the English language with the elementary +sounds and the letters which represent them. + +Name the first letter of the alphabet——_a_. The mouth is open and the +sound may be prolonged indefinitely. It is a full, clear sound, an +unobstructed vibration of the vocal chords. + +Now name the second letter of the alphabet——_b_. You say _bee_ or _buh_. +You cannot prolong the sound. In order to give the real sound of _b_ +you have to associate it with some other sound, as that of _e_ or _u_. +In other words, _b_ is in the nature of an obstruction of sound, or a +modification of sound, rather than a simple elementary sound in itself. +There is indeed a slight sound in the throat, but it is a closed sound +and cannot be prolonged. In the case of _p,_ which is similar to _b,_ +there is no sound from the throat. + +So we see that there are two classes of sounds (represented by two +classes of letters), those which are full and open tones from the vocal +chords, pronounced with the mouth open, and capable of being prolonged +indefinitely; and those which are in the nature of modifications of +these open sounds, pronounced with or without the help of the voice, +and incapable of being prolonged. The first class of sounds is called +vowel sounds, the second, consonant sounds. Of the twenty-six letters +of the alphabet, _a, e, i, o,_ and _u_ (sometimes _y_ and _w_) +represent vowel sounds and are called vowels; and the remainder +represent consonant sounds, and are called consonants. + +A syllable is an elementary sound, or a combination of elementary +sounds, which can be given easy and distinct utterance at one effort. +Any vowel may form a syllable by itself, but as we have seen that +a consonant must be united with a vowel for its perfect utterance, +it follows that every syllable must contain a vowel sound, even if +it also contains consonant sounds. With that vowel sound one or +more consonants may be united; but the ways in which consonants may +combine with a vowel to form a syllable are limited. In general we +may place any consonant before and any consonant after the vowel in +the same syllable: but _y_ for instance, can be given a consonant +sound only at the beginning of a syllable, as in _yet_; at the end +of a syllable _y_ becomes a vowel sound, as in _they_ or _only_. +In the syllable _twelfths_ we find seven consonant sounds; but if +these same letters were arranged in almost any other way they could +not be pronounced as one syllable―as for instance _wtelthfs_. + +A word consists of one or more syllables to which some definite +meaning is attached. + +The difficulties of spelling and pronunciation arise largely from the +fact that in English twenty-six letters must do duty for some forty-two +sounds, and even then several of the letters are unnecessary, as for +instance _c,_ which has either the sound of _s_ or of _k_; _x,_ which +has the sound either of _ks, gs,_ or _z_; _q,_ which in the combination +_qu_ has the sound of _kw_. All the vowels represent from two to seven +sounds each, and some of the consonants interchange with each other. + +The Sounds of the Vowels.―(1) Each of the vowels has what is called +a long sound and a short sound. It is important that these two sets +of sounds be fixed clearly in the mind, as several necessary rules +of spelling depend upon them. In studying the following table, note +that the long sound is marked by a straight line over the letter, and +the short sound by a curve. + +_Long Short_ + āte ăt + gāve măn + nāme băg + + thēse pĕt + mē tĕn + (com)plēte brĕd + + kīte sĭt + rīce mĭll + līme rĭp + + nōte nŏt + rōde rŏd + sōle Tŏm + + cūre bŭt + cūte rŭn + (a)būse crŭst + + scұthe (like)lў + +If we observe the foregoing list of words we shall see that each of +the words containing a long vowel followed by a single consonant sound +ends in silent _e_. After the short vowels there is no silent _e_. +In each case in which we have the silent _e_ there is a single long +vowel followed by a single consonant, or two consonants combining to +form a single sound, as _th_ in _scythe_. Such words as _roll, toll,_ +etc., ending in double _l_ have no silent _e_ though the vowel is +long; and such words as _great, meet, pail,_ etc., in which two +vowels combine with the sound of one, take no silent _e_ at the end. +We shall consider these exceptions more fully later; but a _single long_ +vowel followed by a _single_ consonant _always_ takes silent _e_ at the +end. As carefully stated in this way, the rule has no exceptions. +The reverse, however, is not always true, for a few words containing +a short vowel followed by a single consonant do take silent _e_; +but there are very few of them. The principal are _have, give,_ +{(I)} _live, love, shove, dove, above;_ also _none, some, come,_ +and some words in three or more syllables, such as _domicile_. + +2. Beside the long and short sounds of the vowels there +are several other vowel sounds. + +A has two other distinct sounds: + +̣ạ broad, like _aw,_ as in _all, talk,_ etc. + +ä Italian, like _ah,_ as in _far, father,_ etc. + +Double o has two sounds different from long or short _o_ alone: + +long ōō as in _room, soon, mood,_ etc. + +short ŏŏ, as in _good, took, wood,_ etc. + +Ow has a sound of its own, as in _how, crowd, allow,_ etc.; +and _ou_ sometimes has the same sound, as in _loud, rout, bough,_ etc. + +(_Ow_ and _ou_ are also sometimes sounded like long _o,_ as in _own, +crow, pour,_ etc., and sometimes have still other sounds, +as _ou_ in _bought_). + +Oi and oy have a distinct sound of their own, as in _oil, toil, oyster, +void, boy, employ,_ etc. + +_Ow_ and _oi_ are called proper diphthongs, as the two vowels combine +to produce a sound different from either, while such combinations as +_ei, ea, ai,_ etc., are called improper diphthongs (or digraphs), +because they have the sound of one or other of the simple vowels. + +3. In the preceding paragraphs we have given all the distinct vowel +sounds of the language, though many of them are slightly modified in +certain combinations. But in many cases one vowel will be given the +sound of another vowel, and two or more vowels will combine with a +variety of sounds. These irregularities occur chiefly in a few hundred +common words, and cause the main difficulties of spelling the English +language. The following are the leading substitutes: + +ew with the sound of _u_ long, as in _few, chew,_ etc. (perhaps +this may be considered a proper diphthong); + +e (_ê, é_) with the sound of _a_ long, as in _fête, abbé,_ and all +foreign words written with an accent, especially French words; + +i with the sound of _e_ long, as in _machine,_ and nearly all French and +other foreign words; + +o has the sound of double _o_ long in _tomb, womb, prove, move,_ etc., +and of double _o_ short in _wolf, women,_ etc.; + +o also has the sound of _u_ short in _above, love, some, done,_ etc.; + +u has the sound of double _o_ long after _r,_ as in _rude, rule_; + +it also has the sound of double _o_ short in _put, pull, bull, +sure,_ etc.; + +ea has the sound of _a_ long, as in _great_; of _e_ long, as in _heat_; of +_e_ short, as in _head_; of _a_ Italian (ah), as in _heart, hearth,_ etc.; + +ei has the sound of _e_ long, as in _receive_; of _a_ long, as in +_freight, weight_; sometimes of _i_ long, as in _either_ and _neither,_ +pronounced with either the sound of _e_ long or _i_ long, the latter +being the English usage; + +ie has the sound of _i_ long, as in _lie,_ and of _e_ long, +as in _belief,_ and of _i_ short, as in _sieve_; + +ai has the sound of _a_ long, as in _laid, bail, train,_ etc., +and of _a_ short, as in _plaid;_ + +ay has the sound of _a_ long, as in _play, betray, say,_ etc.; + +oa has the sound of _o_ long, as in _moan, foam, coarse,_ etc. + +There are also many peculiar and occasional substitutions of sounds +as in _any_ and _many_ (a as ĕ), _women_ (o as ĭ), _busy_ (u as ĭ), +_said_ (ai as ĕ), _people_ (eo as ē), _build_ (u as ĭ), _gauge_ (au as ā), +_what_ (a as ŏ), etc. + +When any of these combinations are to be pronounced as separate vowels, +in two syllables, two dots should be placed over the second, as in _naïve_. + +4. The chief modifications of the elementary sounds are the following: + +before _r_ each of the vowels _e, i, o, u,_ and _y_ has almost the +same sound (marked like the Spanish ñ) as in _her, birth, honor, burr,_ +and _myrtle; o_ before _r_ sometimes has the sound of _aw,_ as in _or, +for,_ etc.; + +in unaccented syllables, each of the long vowels has a slightly shortened +sound, as in f_a_tality, n_e_gotiate, int_o_nation, ref_u_tation, +indicated by a dot above the sign for the long sound; (in a few words, +such as d_i_gress, the sound is not shortened, however); + +long _a_ (â) is slightly modified in such words as _care, fare, bare,_ +etc., while _e_ has the same sound in words like _there, their,_ and +_where_; (New Englan{d}פּ people give _a_ the short sound in such words +as _care,_ etc., and pronounce _there_ and _where_ with the short sound +of _a,_ while _their_ is pronounced with the short sound of _e_: +this is not the best usage, however); + +in _pass, class, command, laugh,_ etc., we have a sound of _a_ between +Italian _a_ and short _a_ (indicated by a single dot over the _a_), +though most Americans pronounce it as short, and most English give the +Italian sound: the correct pronunciation is between these two. + +The Sounds of the Consonants. We have already seen that there are two +classes of consonant sounds, those which have a voice sound, as _b,_ +called _sonant,_ and those which are mere breath sounds, like _p,_ +called _surds_ or aspirates. The chief difference between _b_ and _p_ +is that one has the voice sound and the other has not. Most of the +other consonants also stand in pairs. We may say that the sonant +consonant and its corresponding surd are the hard and soft forms of +the same sound. The following table contains also simple consonant +sounds represented by two letters: +_Sonant Surd_ + b p + d t + v f + g (hard) k + j ch + z s + th (in _thine_) th (in _thin_) + zh (or z as in _azure_) sh + w + y + l + m + n + r h + +If we go down this list from the top to the bottom, we see that _b_ is the +most closed sound, while _h_ is the most slight and open, and the others +are graded in between (though not precisely as arranged above). These +distinctions are important, because in making combinations of consonants in +the same syllable or in successive syllables we cannot pass abruptly from a +closed sound to an open sound, or the reverse, nor from a surd sound to a +sonant, or the reverse. _L, m, n,_ and _r_ are called liquids, and easily +combine with other consonants; and so do the sibilants (_s, z,_ etc.). +In the growth of the language, many changes have been made in letters to +secure harmony of sound (as changing _b_ to _p_ in _sub-port——support,_ +and _s,_ to _f_ in _differ_―from _dis_ and _fero_). Some combinations +are not possible of pronunciation, others are not natural or easy; and +hence the alterations. The student of the language must know how words are +built; and then when he comes to a strange word he can reconstruct it for +himself. While the short, common words may be irregular, the long, strange +words are almost always formed quite regularly. + +Most of the sonants have but one sound, and none of them has more than +three sounds. The most important variations are as follows: + +C and G have each a soft sound and a hard sound. The soft sound of _c_ +is the same as _s,_ and the hard sound the same as _k_. The soft sound +of _g_ is the same as _j,_ and the hard sound is the true sound of _g_ +as heard in _gone, bug, struggle_. + +Important Rule. _C_ and _G_ are soft before _e, i,_ and _y,_ +and hard before all the other vowels, before all the other consonants, +and at the end of words. + +The chief exceptions to this rule are a few common words in which _g_ +is hard before _e_ or _i_. They include―_give, get, gill, gimlet, +girl, gibberish, gelding, gerrymander, gewgaw, geyser, giddy, gibbon, +gift, gig, giggle, gild, gimp, gingham, gird, girt, girth, eager,_ +and _begin_. G is soft before a consonant in _judgment{,} lodgment, +acknowledgment,_ etc. Also in a few words from foreign languages _c_ +is soft before other vowels, though in such cases it should always be +written with a cedilla (ç). + +N when marked ñ in words from the Spanish language is pronounced +_n-y_ (cañon like _canyon_). + +Ng has a peculiar nasal sound of its own, as heard in the syllable _ing_. + +N alone also has the sound of _ng_ sometimes before _g_ and _k,_ as in +_angle, ankle, single,_ etc. (pronounced _ang-gle, ang-kle, sing-gle_). + +Ph has the sound of _f,_ as in prophet. + +Th has two sounds, a hard sound as in _the, than, bathe, scythe,_ etc., +and a soft sound as in _thin, kith, bath, Smith,_ etc. Contrast +_breathe_ and _breath, lath_ and _lathe_; and _bath_ and _baths, +lath_ and _laths,_ etc. + +S has two sounds, one its own sound, as in _sin, kiss, fist_ (the same as +_c_ in _lace, rice,_ etc.), and the sound of _z,_ as in _rise_ (contrast +with _rice_), _is, baths, men's,_ etc. + +X has two common sounds, one that of _ks_ as in _box, six,_ etc., and the +other the sound of _gs,_ as in _exact, exaggerate_ (by the way, the first +_g_ in this word is silent). At the beginning of a word _x_ has the sound +of _z_ as in _Xerxes_. + +Ch has three sounds, as heard first in _child,_ second in _machine,_ and +third in _character_. The first is peculiar to itself, the second is +that of _sh,_ and the third that of _k_. + +The sound of _sh_ is variously represented: + +by _sh{,}_ as in _share, shift, shirt,_ etc. + +by _ti,_ as in _condition, mention, sanction,_ etc. + +by _si,_ as in _tension, suspension, extension,_ etc. + +by _ci,_ as in _suspicion_. (Also, _crucifixion_.) + +The kindred sound of _zh_ is represented by _z_ as in _azure,_ +and _s_ as in _pleasure,_ and by some combinations. + +Y is always a consonant at the beginning of a word when followed by a +vowel, as in _yet, year, yell,_ etc.; but if followed by a consonant it +is a vowel, as in _Ypsilanti_. At the end of a word it is {al}ways a +vowel, as in all words ending in the syllable _ly_. + +Exercises. It is very important that the student should master the +sounds of the language and the symbols for them, or the diacritical +marks, for several reasons: + +First, because it is impossible to find out the true pronunciation of +a word from the dictionary unless one clearly understands the meaning +of the principal marks; + +Second, because one of the essentials in accurate pronunciation and good +spelling is the habit of analyzing the sounds which compose words, and +training the ear to detect slight variations; + +Third, because a thorough knowledge of the sounds and their natural +symbols is the first step toward a study of the principles governing +word formation, or spelling and pronunciation. + +For purposes of instruction through correspondence or by means of a +textbook, the diacritical marks representing distinct sounds of the +language afford a substitute for the voice in dictation and similar +exercises, and hence such work requires a mastery of what might at +first sight seem a purely mechanical and useless system. + +One of the best exercises for the mastery of this system is to open the +unabridged dictionary at any point and copy out lists of words, writing the +words as they ordinarily appear in one column, and in an adjoining column +the phonetic form of the word. When the list is complete, cover one column +and reproduce the other from an application of the principles that have +been learned. After a few days, reproduce the phonetic forms from the +words as ordinarily written, and again the ordinary word from the phonetic +form. Avoid memorizing as much as possible, but work solely by the +application of principles. Never write down a phonetic form without fully +understanding its meaning in every detail. A key to the various marks will +be found at the bottom of every page of the dictionary, and the student +should refer to this frequently. In the front part of the dictionary there +will also be found an explanation of all possible sounds that any letter +may have; and every sound that any letter may have may be indicated by a +peculiar mark, so that since several letters may represent the same sound +there are a variety of symbols for the same sound. For the purposes of +this book it has seemed best to offer only one symbol for each sound, and +that symbol the one most frequently used. For that reason the following +example will not correspond precisely with the forms given in the +dictionary, but a study of the differences will afford a valuable exercise. + +Illustration.* + + *In this exercise, vowels before r marked in webster with the double +curve used over the Spanish n, are left unmarked. Double o with the +short sound is also left unmarked. + + The first place that I can well remember was a large, + Thĕ first plās thăt I kan wĕl rēmĕmber woz ā lärj, + +pleasant meadow with a pond of clear water in it. Some +plĕs′nt mĕdō with ā pŏnd ŏv klēr wŏter in it. Sŭm + +shady trees leaned over it, and rushes and water-lilies +shādĭ trēz lēnd ōver it, ănd rŭshēz ănd wŏter-lĭliz + +grew at the deep end. Over the hedge on one side we looked +grū ăt thē dēp ĕnd. Ōver thē hĕj ŏn wŭn sīd wē lookt + +into a plowed field, and on the other we looked over a +intōō ā plowd fēld{,} ănd ŏn thē ŏther wē lookt ŏver ā + +gate at our master's house, which stood by the roadside. +gāt ăt owr măster'z hows, hwich stood bī thē rōdsīd. + +At the top of the meadow was a grove of fir-trees, and at +At thē top ŏv the mēdō wŏz ā grōv ŏv fir-trēz, ănd ăt + +the bottom a running brook overhung by a steep bank. +thē bŏt′m a rŭning brook ōverhŭng bī a stēp bănk. + + + Whilst I was young I lived upon my mother's milk, as I could + Hwilst I wŏz yŭng I livd ŭpŏn mī mŭther'z milk, ăz I kood + +not eat grass. In the daytime I ran by her side, and at night +nŏt ēt grăs. In thē dātīm I răn bī her sīd, ănd ăt nīt + +I lay down close by her. When it was hot we used to stand +I lā down klōs bī her. Hwĕn it wŏz hŏt wē ūzd tōō stănd + +by the pond in the shade of the trees, and when it was cold +bī thē pŏnd in thē shād ŏv thē trēz, ănd hwēn it wŏz kōld + +we had a nice, warm shed near the grove. +wē hăd ā nīs, wawrm shĕd nēr thē grōv. + +Note. In Webster's dictionary letters which are unmarked have an +obscure sound often not unlike uh, or are silent, and letters printed +in italics are nearly elided, so very slight is the sound they have if +it can be said to exist at all. In the illustration above, all very +obscure sounds have been replaced by the apostrophe, while no distinction +has been made between short vowels in accented and unaccented syllables. + +Studies from the Dictionary. + +The following are taken from Webster's Dictionary: + +Ab-dŏm′-i-noŭs: The _a_ in _ab_ is only a little shorter than _a_ in +_at,_ and the _i_ is short being unaccented, while the _o_ is silent, +the syllable having the sound nŭs as indicated by the mark over the _u_. + +Lĕss′en, (lĕs′n), lĕs′son, (lĕs′sn), lĕss′er, lĕs′sor: Each of these +words has two distinct syllables, though there is no recognizable +vowel sound in the last syllables of the first two. This eliding of the +vowel is shown by printing the _e_ and the _o_ of the final syllables +in italics. In the last two words the vowels of the final syllables are +not marked, but have nearly the sound they would have if marked in the +usual way for _e_ and _o_ before _r_. As the syllables are not accented +the vowel sound is slightly obscured. Or in _lessor_ has the sound of +the word _or_ (nearly), not the sound of _or_ in _honor,_ which will +be found re-spelled (ŏn′ur). It will be noted that the double s is +divided in two of the words and not in the other two. In _lesser_ +and _lessen_ all possible stress is placed on the first syllables, +since the terminations have the least possible value in speaking; +but in _lesson_ and _lessor_ we put a little more stress on the final +syllables, due to the greater dignity of the letter _o,_ and this draws +over a part of the s sound. + +Hon′-ey▬cōmb (hŭn′y–kōm): The heavy hyphen indicates that this is +a compound word and the hyphen must always be written. The hyphens +printed lightly in the dictionary merely serve to separate the +syllables and show how a word may be divided at the end of a line. +The student will also note that the _o_ in _-comb_ has its full long +value instead of being slighted. This slight added stress on the _o_ +is the way we have in speaking of indicating that _-comb_ was once a +word by itself, with an accent of its own. + +Exercise. +Select other words from the dictionary, and analyse as we have done +above, giving some explanation for every peculiarity found in the +printing and marks. Continue this until there is no doubt or +hesitation in regard to the meaning of any mark that may be found. + + +CHAPTER II. + +WORD-BUILDING. + +English speaking peoples have been inclined to exaggerate the +irregularities of the English word-formation. The fact is, only a small +number of common words and roots are irregular in formation, while fully +nine tenths of all the words in the language are formed according to +regular principles, or are regularly derived from the small number of +irregular words. We use the irregular words so much more frequently +that they do indeed constitute the greater part of our speech, but +it is very necessary that we should master the regular principles of +word-building, since they give us a key to the less frequently used, +but far more numerous, class which fills the dictionary, teaching +us both the spelling of words of which we know the sound, and the +pronunciation of words which we meet for the first time in reading. + +Accent. In English, accent is an essential part of every word. +It is something of an art to learn to throw it on to any syllable +we choose, for unless we are able to do this we cannot get the true +pronunciation of a word from the dictionary and we are helpless when +we are called on to pronounce a word we have never heard. + +Perhaps the best way to learn the art of throwing accent is by +comparing words in which we are in the habit of shifting the +accent to one syllable or another according to the meaning, +as for instance the following: + + 1. Accent. + +a. What _ac′cent_ has this word? + +b. With what _accent′uation_ do you _accent′_ this word? + + 2. Concert. + +a. Did you go to the _con′cert_ last night? + +b. By _concert′ed_ action we can do anything. + + 3. Contrast. + +{a}Ъ. What a _con′trast_ between the rich man and the poor man! + +b. _Contrast′_ good with bad, black with white, greatness with littleness. + + 4. Permit. + +a. I have a building_-per′mit_. + +b. My mother will not _permit′_ me to go. + + 5. Present. + +a. He received a beautiful Christmas _pres′ent_. + +b. She was _present′ed_ at court. + + 6. Prefix. + +a. Sub is a common _pre′fix_. + +b. _Prefix′_ sub to port and you get support. + + 7. Compound. + +a. He can _compound′_ medicine like a druggist. + +b. Nitroglycerine is a dangerous _com′pound_. + +As a further illustration, read the following stanza of poetry, +especially accenting the syllables as marked: + + Tell′ me not′ in mourn′ful num′bers, + “Life′ is but′ an emp′ty dream′!” + For′ the soul′ is dead′ that slum′bers, + And′ things are′ not what′ they seem′. + +This is called scanning, and all verse may be scanned in the same way. +It is an excellent drill in learning the art of throwing the stress of +the voice on any syllable that may be desired. + +Two Laws of Word-Formation. + +We are now prepared to consider the two great laws governing +word-formation. These are: + +1. Law: All vowels in combination with consonants are naturally short +unless the long sound is given by combination with other vowels, +by accent, or by position in the syllable with reference to consonants. + +2. Law: Words derived from other words by the addition of prefixes or +suffixes always retain the original form as far as possible. + +1. We are likely to suppose that the natural or original sound of a +vowel is the long sound, because that is the sound we give it when +naming it in the alphabet. If we will examine a number of words, +however, we shall soon see that in combination with consonants all +vowels have a tendency to a short or obscure pronunciation. The sounds +of the consonants are naturally obscure, and they draw the vowels to a +similar obscurity. + +Since such is the case, when a vowel is given its long sound there is +always a special reason for it. In the simple words _not, pin, her, +rip, rid, cut, met,_ we have the short sounds of the vowels; but if we +desire the long sounds we must add a silent _e,_ which is not pronounced +as _e,_ but has its sound value in the greater stress put upon the vowel +with which it is connected. By adding silent _e_ to the above words we +have _note, pine, here, ripe, ride, mete_. In each of these cases the +_e_ follows the consonant, though really combining with the vowel before +the consonant; but if we place the additional _e_ just after the first +_e_ in _met_ we have _meet,_ which is a word even more common than +_mete. E_ is the only vowel that may be placed after the consonant and +still combine with the vowel before it {while being silent}; but nearly +all the other vowels may be placed beside the vowel that would otherwise +be short in order to make it long, and sometimes this added vowel is +placed before as well as after the vowel to be lengthened. Thus we +have _boat, bait, beat, field, chief,_ etc. There are a very, very few +irregular words in which the vowel sound has been kept short in spite +of the added vowel, as for instance, _head, sieve,_ etc. It appears +that with certain consonants the long sound is especially difficult, +and so in the case of very common words the wear of common speech has +shortened the vowels in spite of original efforts to strengthen them. +This is peculiarly true of the consonant _v,_ and the combination _th,_ +and less so of _s_ and _z_. So in {(I) }_live, have, give, love, shove, +move,_ etc., the vowel sound is more or less obscured even in spite of +the silent _e,_ though in the less common words _alive, behave,_ etc., +the long sound strengthened by accent has not been lost. So as a rule +two silent vowels are now used to make the vowel before the _v_ long, +as in _leave, believe, receive, beeves, weave,_ etc. In the single word +_sieve_ the vowel remains short in spite of two silent vowels added to +strengthen it. Two vowels are also sometimes required to strengthen a +long vowel before _th,_ as in _breathe,_ though when the vowel itself +is a strong one, as _a_ in _bathe,_ the second vowel is not required, +and _o_ in _both_ is so easily increased in sound that the two +consonants alone are sufficient. It will be seen, therefore, that much +depends on the quality of the vowel. _A_ and _o_ are the strongest +vowels, _i_ the weakest (which accounts for sieve). After _s_ and _z_ +we must also have a silent _e_ in addition to the silent vowel with +which the sounded vowel is combined, as we may see in _cheese, increase, +freeze,_ etc. The added vowel in combination with the long vowel is not +always needed, however, as we may see in contrasting _raise_ and _rise_. + +Not only vowels but consonants may serve to lengthen vowel sounds, as +we see in _right, night, bright,_ and in _scold, roll,_ etc. Only _o_ +is capable of being lengthened by two simple consonants such as we have +in _scold_ and _roll_. In _calm_ and _ball,_ for instance, the _a_ has +one of its extra values rather than its long sound. The _gh_ is of +course a powerful combination. Once it was pronounced; but it became +so difficult that we have learned to give its value by dwelling a little +on the vowel sound. + +Another powerful means of lengthening a vowel is accent. When a vowel +receives the full force of the accent by coming at the end of an accented +syllable it is almost invariably made long. We see this in monosyllables +such as _he, no,_ etc. It is often necessary to strengthen by an +additional silent vowel, however, as in _tie, sue, view,_ etc., and _a_ +has a peculiarity in that when it comes at the end of a syllable alone it +has the sound of _ah,_ or _a_ Italian, rather than that of _a_ long, and we +have _pa, ma,_ etc., and for the long sound _y_ is added, as in _say, day, +ray. I_ has a great disinclination to appear at the end of a word, and so +i{s}һ usually changed to _y_ when such a position is necessary, or it takes +silent _e_ as indicated above; while this service on the part of _y_ is +reciprocated by _i_'s taking the place of _y_ inside a word, as may be +illustrated by _city_ and _cities_. + +When a vowel gets the _full force_ of the accent in a word of two or +more syllables it is bound to be long, as for instance the first _a_ in +_ma′di a_. Even the stress necessary to keep the vowel from running +into the next syllable will make it long, though the sound is somewhat +obscured, some other syllable receiving the chief accent, as the first +_a_ in _ma gi′cian_. In this last word _i_ seems to have the full +force of the accent, yet it is not long; and we note the same in such +words as _condi′tion,_ etc. The fact is, however, that _i_ being a +weak vowel easily runs into the consonant sound of the next syllable, +and if we note the sounds as we pronounce _condition_ we shall see that +the _sh_ sound represented by _ti_ blends with the _i_ and takes the +force of the accent. We cannot separate the _ti_ or _ci_ from the +following portion of the syllable, since if so separated they could not +have their _sh_ value; but in pronunciation this separation is made in +part and the _sh_ sound serves both for the syllable that precedes and +the syllable that follows. In a word like _di men′sion_ we find the _i_ +of the first syllable long even without the accent, since the accent +on _men_ attaches the _m_ so closely to it that it cannot in any way +relieve the _i_. So we see that in an accented syllable the consonant +before a short vowel, as well as the consonant following it, receives +part of the stress. This is especially noticeable in the word +_ma gi′cian_ as compared with _mag′ic_. In magic the syllable _ic_ is in +itself so complete that the _g_ is kept with the _a_ and takes the force +of the accent, leaving the _a_ short. In _magician_ the _g_ is drawn +away from the _a_ to help out the short _i_ followed by an _sh_ sound, +and the _a_ is lengthened even to altering the form of the simple word. +In the word _ma′gi an,_ again, we find _a_ long, the _g_ being needed to +help out the _i_. + +Since accent makes a vowel long if no consonant intervenes at the end +of a syllable, and as a single consonant following such a vowel in a +word of two syllables (though not in words of three or more) is likely +to be drawn into the syllable following, a single consonant following +a single short vowel must be doubled. If two or more consonants follow +the vowel, as in _masking, standing, wilting,_ the vowel even in an +accented syllable remains short. But in _pining_ with one _n_ following +the _i_ in the accented syllable, we know that the vowel must be long, +for if it were short the word would be written _pinning_. + +Universal Rule: _Monosyllables_ in which, a single vowel is followed +by a single consonant (except _v_ and _h_ never doubled) _double the +final consonant_ when a single syllable beginning with a vowel is added, +and _all words_ so ending double the final consonant on the addition of +a syllable beginning with a vowel _if the syllable containing the single +vowel_ followed by a single consonant _is to be accented_. + +Thus we have _can——canning, run——running, fun——funny, flat——flattish_; +and also _sin——sinned_ (for the _ed_ is counted a syllable though not +pronounced as such nowadays); _preferred,_ but _preference,_ since the +accent is thrown back from the syllable containing the single vowel +followed by a single consonant in the word _preference,_ though not in +_preferred_; and of course the vowel is not doubled in _murmured, wondered, +covered,_ etc. + +If, however, the accented syllable is followed by two or more syllables, +the tendency of accent is to shorten the vowel. Thus we have +_grammat′ical,_ etc., in which the short vowel in the accented syllable +is followed by a single consonant not doubled. The word _na′tion_ (with +a long _a_) becomes _na′tional_ (short _a_) when the addition of a syllable +throws the accent on to the antepenult. The vowel _u_ is never shortened +in this way, however, and we have _lu′bricate,_ not _lub′ricate_. We also +find such words as _no′tional_ (long _o_). While accented syllables which +are followed by two or more syllables seldom if ever double the single +consonant, in pronunciation we often find the vowel long if the two +syllables following contain short and weak vowels. Thus we have _pe′riod_ +(long _e_), _ma′niac_ (long _a_), and _o′rient′al_ (long _o_). + +In words of two syllables and other words in which the accent comes on +the next to the last syllable, a short vowel in an accented syllable +should logically always be followed by more than one consonant or a double +consonant. We find the double consonant in such words as _summer, pretty, +mammal,_ etc. Unfortunately, our second law, which requires all derived +words to preserve the form of the original root, interferes with this +principle very seriously in a large number of English words. The roots +are often derived from languages in which this principle did not apply, +or else these roots originally had very different sound values from +those they have with us. So we have _body,_ with one _d,_ though we have +_shoddy_ and _toddy_ regularly formed with two _d_'s, and we have _finish, +exhibit,_ etc.; in _col′onnade_ the _n_ is doubled in a syllable that is +not accented. + +The chief exception to the general principle is the entire class +of words ending in _ic,_ such as _colic, cynic, civic, antithetic, +peripatetic,_ etc. If the root is long, however, it will remain long +after the addition of the termination _ic,_ as _music_ (from _muse_), +_basic_ (from _base_), etc. + +But in the case of words which we form ourselves, we will find practically +no exceptions to the rule that a short vowel in a syllable _next_ to the +last _must_ be followed by a _double consonant_ when accented, while a +short vowel in a syllable _before_ the next to the last is _not_ followed +by a double consonant when the syllable is accented. + +2. Our second law tells us that the original form of a word or of its +root must be preserved as far as possible. Most of the words referred +to above in which single consonants are doubled or not doubled in +violation of the general rule are derived from the Latin, usually through +the French, and if we were familiar with those languages we should have a +key to their correct spelling. But even without such thorough knowledge, +we may learn a few of the methods of derivation in those languages, +especially the Latin, as well as the simpler methods in use in the English. + +Certain changes in the derived words are always made, as, for instance, the +dropping of the silent _e_ when a syllable beginning with a vowel is added. + +Rule. Silent _e_ at the end of a word is dropped whenever a syllable +beginning with a vowel is added. + +This rule is not quite universal, though nearly so. The silent _e_ is +always retained when the vowel at the beginning of the added syllable +would make a soft _c_ or _g_ hard, as in _serviceable, changeable,_ etc. +In _changing, chancing,_ etc., the _i_ of the added syllable is sufficient +to make the _c_ or _g_ retain its soft sound. In such words as _cringe_ +and _singe_ the silent _e_ is retained even before _i_ in order to avoid +confusing the words so formed with other words in which the _ng_ has a +nasal sound; thus we have _singeing_ to avoid confusion with _singing,_ +though we have _singed_ in which the _e_ is dropped before _ed_ because +the dropping of it causes no confusion. Formerly the silent _e_ was +retained in _moveable_; but now we write _movable,_ according to the +rule. + +Of course when the added syllable begins with a consonant, the silent +_e_ is not dropped, since dropping it would have the effect of +shortening the preceding vowel by making it stand before two consonants. + +A few monosyllables ending in two vowels, one of which is silent _e,_ +are exceptions: _duly, truly_; also _wholly_. + +Also final _y_ is changed to _i_ when a syllable is added, unless that +added syllable begins with _i_ and two _i_'s would thus come together. +_I_ is a vowel never doubled. Th{u}זs we have _citified,_ +but _citifying_. + +We have already seen that final consonants may be doubled under certain +circumstances when a syllable is added. + +These are nearly all the changes in spelling that are possible when +words are formed by adding syllables; but changes in pronunciation and +vowel values are often affected, as we have seen in _nation_ (_a_ long) +and _national_ (_a_ short). + +Prefixes. But words may be formed by prefixing syllables, or by combining +two or more words into one. Many of these formations were effected in +the Latin before the words were introduced into English; but we can study +the principles governing them and gain a key to the spelling of many +English words. + +In English we unite a preposition with a verb by placing it after +the verb and treating it as an adverb. Thus we have “breaking in,” +“running over,” etc. In Latin the preposition in such cases was +prefixed to the word; and there were particles used as prefixes which +were never used as prepositions. We should become familiar with the +principal Latin prefixes and always take them into account in the +spelling of English words. The principal Latin prefixes are: + +ab (abs)——from +ad——to +ante——before +bi (bis)——twice +circum (circu)——around +con——with +contra (counter)——against +de——down, from +dis——apart, not +ex——out of, away from +extra——beyond +in——in, into, on; _also_ not (another word) +inter——between +non——not +ob——in front of, in the way of +per——through +post——after +pre——before +pro——for, forth +re——back or again +retro——backward +se——aside +semi——half +sub——under +super——above, over +trans——over, beyond +ultra——beyond +vice——instead of. + +Of these prefixes, those ending in a single consonant are likely to +change that consonant for euphony to the consonant beginning the word +to which the prefix is attached. Thus _ad_ drops the _d_ in _ascend,_ +becomes _ac_ in _accord, af_ in _affiliate, an_ in _annex, ap_ in +_appropriate, at_ in _attend; con_ becomes _com_ in _commotion,_ also +in _compunction_ and _compress, cor_ in _correspond, col_ in _collect, +co_ in _co-equal_; _dis_ becomes _dif_ in _differ_; _ex_ becomes _e_ +in _eject, ec_ in _eccentric, ef_ in _effect_; _in_ becomes _il_ in +_illuminate, im_ in _import, ir_ in _irreconcilable; ob_ becomes _op_ +in _oppress, oc_ in _occasion, of_ in _offend_; and _sub_ becomes _suc_ +in _succeed, sup_ in _support, suf_ in _suffix, sug_ in _suggest, sus_ +in _sustain_. The final consonant is changed to a consonant that can +be easily pronounced before the consonant with which the following +syllable begins. Following the rule that the root must be changed as +little as possible, it is always the prefix, not the root, which is +compelled to yield to the demands of euphony. + +A little reflection upon the derivation of words will thus often give +us a key to the spelling. For instance, suppose we are in doubt whether +_irredeemable_ has two _r_'s or only one: we now that _redeem_ is a +root, and therefore the _ir_ must be a prefix, and the two _r_'s are +accounted for,―indeed are necessary in order to prevent our losing +sight of the derivation and meaning of the word. In the same way, we can +never be in doubt as to the two _m_'s in _commotion, commencement,_ etc. + +We have already noted the tendency of _y_ to become _i_ in the middle +of a word. The exceptional cases are chiefly derivatives from the +Greek, and a study of the Greek prefixes will often give us a hint +in regard to the spelling of words containing _y_. These prefixes, +given here in full for convenience, are: + +a (an)——without, not +amphi——both, around +ana——up, back, through +anti——against, opposite +apo (ap)——from +cata——down + +dia——through +en (em)——in +epi (ep)——upon +hyper——over, excessive +hypo——under +meta (met)——beyond, change +syn (sy, syl, sym)——with, together + +In Greek words also we will find _ph_ with the sound of _f_. +We know that _symmetrical, hypophosphite, metaphysics, emphasis,_ etc., +are Greek because of the key we find in the prefix, and we are thus +prepared for the _y_'s and _ph_'s. _F_ does not exist in the Greek +alphabet (except as ph) and so we shall never find it in words derived +from the Greek. + +The English prefixes are not so often useful in determining peculiar +spelling, but for completeness we give them here: + +a——at, in, on (ahead) +be——to make, by (benumb) +en (em)——in, on, to make (encircle, empower) +for——not, from (forbear) +fore——before (forewarn) +mis——wrong, wrongly (misstate) +out——beyond (outbreak) +over——above (overruling) +to——the, this (to-night) +un——not, opposite act (unable, undeceive) +under——beneath (undermine) +with——against, from (withstand) + + +CHAPTER III. + +WORD-BUILDING——RULES AND APPLICATIONS. + +There are a few rules and applications of the principles of word-formation +which may be found fully treated in the chapter on “Orthography” at the +beginning of the dictionary, but which we present here very briefly, +together with a summary of principles already discussed. + +Rule 1. _F, l,_ and _s_ at the end of a monosyllable after a single +vowel are commonly doubled. The exceptions are the cases in which _s_ +forms the plural or possessive case of a noun, or third person singular +of the verb, and the following words: _clef, if, of, pal, sol, as, gas, +has, was, yes, gris, his, is, thus, us. L_ is not doubled at the end +of words of more than one syllable, as _parallel, willful,_ etc. + +Rule 2. No other consonants thus situated are doubled. Exceptions: +_ebb, add, odd, egg, inn, bunn, err, burr, purr, butt, fizz, fuzz, +buzz,_ and a few very uncommon words, for which see the chapter in +the dictionary above referred to. + +Rule 3. A consonant standing at the end of a word immediately after a +diphthong or double vowel is never doubled. The word _guess_ is only an +apparent exception, since _u_ does not form a combination with _e_ but +merely makes the _g_ hard. + +Rule 4. Monosyllables ending in the sound of _ic_ represented by _c_ +usually take _k_ after the _c_, as in _back, knock,_ etc. Exceptions: +_talc, zinc, roc, arc,_ and a few very uncommon words. Words of more +than one syllable ending in _ic_ or _iac_ do not take _k_ after the +_c_ (except _derrick_), as for example _elegiac, cubic, music,_ etc. +If the _c_ is preceded by any other vowel than _i_ or _ia, k_ is added +to the _c_, as in _barrack, hammock, wedlock_. Exceptions: +_almanac, havoc,_ and a very few uncommon words. + +Rule 5. To preserve the hard sound of _c_ when a syllable is added +which begins with _e, i,_ or _y, k_ is placed after final _c_, +as in _trafficking, zincky, colicky_. + +Rule 6. _X_ and _h_ are never doubled, _v_ and _j_ seldom. _G_ with +the soft sound cannot be doubled, because then the first _g_ would be +made hard. Example: _mag′ic. Q_ always appears with _u_ following it, +and here _u_ has the value of the consonant _w_ and in no way combines +or is counted with the vowel which may follow it. For instance +_squatting_ is written as if _squat_ contained but one vowel. + +Rule 7. In simple derivatives a single final consonant following a +single vowel in a syllable that receives an accent is doubled when +another syllable beginning with a vowel is added. + +Rule 8. When accent comes on a syllable standing next to the last, +it has a tendency to lengthen the vowel; but on syllables farther from +the end, the tendency is to shorten the vowel without doubling the +consonant. For example, _na′tion_ (_a_ long), but _na′tional_ +(_a_ short); _gram′mar,_ but _grammat′ical_. + +Rule 9. Silent _e_ at the end of a word is usually dropped +when a syllable beginning with a vowel is added. The chief +exceptions are words in which the silent _e_ is retained to +preserve the soft sound of _c_ or _g_. + +Rule 10. Plurals are regularly formed by adding _s_; but if the +word end in a sibilant sound (_sh, zh, z, s, j, ch, x_), the plural +is formed by adding _es,_ which is pronounced as a separate syllable. +If the word end{s} in a sibilant sound followed by silent _e,_ +that _e_ unites with the _s_ to form a separate syllable. +Examples: _seas, cans; boxes, churches, brushes; changes, services_. + +Rule 11. Final _y_ is regularly changed to _i_ when a syllable is +added. In plurals it is changed to _ies,_ except when preceded by +a vowel, when a simple _s_ is added without change of the _y_. +Examples: _clumsy, clumsily_; _city, cities_; _chimney, chimneys_. +We have _colloquies_ because _u_ after _q_ has the value of the +consonant _w_. There are a few exceptions to the above rule. When two +_i_'s would come together, the _y_ is not changed, as in _carrying_. + +Rule 12. Words ending, in a double consonant commonly retain the double +consonant in derivatives. The chief exception is _all,_ which drops one +_l,_ as in _almighty, already, although,_ etc. According to English +usage other words ending in double _l_ drop one _l_ in derivatives, +and we have _skilful_ (for _skillful_), _wilful_ (for _willful_), +etc., but Webster does not approve this custom. _Ful_ is an affix, +not the word _full_ in a compound. + + +EXCEPTIONS AND IRREGULARITIES. + +1. Though in the case of simple words ending in a double consonant +the derivatives usually retain the double consonant, _pontific_ and +_pontifical_ (from _pontiff_) are exceptions, and when three letters +of the same kind would come together, one is usually dropped, as in +_agreed_ (_agree_ plus _ed_), _illy_ (_ill_ plus _ly_), _belless,_ etc. +We may write _bell-less,_ etc., however, in the case of words in which +three _l_'s come together, separating the syllables by a hyphen. + +2. To prevent two _i_'s coming together, we change _i_ to _y_ in +_dying, tying, vying,_ etc., from _die, tie,_ and _vie_. + +3. Derivatives from _adjectives_ ending in _y_ do not change _y_ to +_i_, and we have _shyly, shyness, slyly,_ etc., though _drier_ and +_driest_ from _dry_ are used. The _y_ is not changed before _ship,_ +as in _secretaryship, ladyship,_ etc., nor in _babyhood_ and _ladykin_. + +4. We have already seen that _y_ is not changed in derivatives when +it is preceded by another vowel, as in the case of _joyful,_ etc.; +but we find exceptions to this principle in _daily, laid, paid, said, +saith, slain,_ and _staid_; and many write _gaily_ and _gaiety,_ +though Webster prefers _gayly_ and _gayety_. + +5. Nouns of one syllable ending in _o_ usually take a silent _e_ also, +as _toe, doe, shoe,_ etc, but other parts of speech do not take the _e,_ +as _do, to, so, no,_ and the like, and nouns of more than one syllable, +as _potato, tomato,_ etc., omit the _e_. Monosyllables ending in _oe_ +usually retain the silent _e_ in derivatives, and we have _shoeing, +toeing,_ etc. The commoner English nouns ending in _o_ also have the +peculiarity of forming the plural by adding _es_ instead of _s,_ and we +have _potatoes, tomatoes, heroes, echoes, cargoes, embargoes, mottoes_; +but nouns a trifle more foreign form their plurals regularly, as _solos, +zeros, pianos,_ etc. When a vowel precedes the _o,_ the plural is +always formed regularly. The third person singular of the verb _woo_ +is _wooes,_ of _do does,_ of _go goes,_ etc., in analogy with the +plurals of the nouns ending in _o_. + +6. The following are exceptions to the rule that silent _e_ is retained +in derivatives when the added syllable begins with a consonant: +_judgment, acknowledgment, lodgment, wholly, abridgment, wisdom,_ etc. + +7. Some nouns ending in _f_ or _fe_ change those terminations to _ve_ +in the plural, as _beef——beeves, leaf——leaves, knife——knives, loaf——loaves, +life——lives, wife——wives, thief——thieves, wolf——wolves, self——selves, +shelf——shelves, calf——calves, half——halves, elf——elves, sheaf——sheaves_. +We have _chief——chiefs_ and _handkerchief——handkerchiefs,_ however, +and the same is true of all nouns ending in _f_ or _fe_ except those +given above. + +8. A few nouns form their plurals by changing a single vowel, as +_man——men, woman——women, goose——geese, foot——feet, tooth——teeth,_ etc. +Compounds follow the rule of the simple form, but the plural of +_talisman_ is _talismans,_ of _German_ is _Germans,_ of _musselman_ +is _musselmans,_ because these are not compounds of _men_. + +9. A few plurals are formed by adding _en,_ as _brother——brethren, +child——children, ox——oxen_. + +10. _Brother, pea, die,_ and _penny_ have each two plurals, which +differ in meaning. _Brothers_ refers to male children of the same +parents, _brethren_ to members of a religious body or the like; +_peas_ is used when a definite number is mentioned, _pease_ when +bulk is referred to; _dies_ are instruments used for stamping, etc., +_dice_ cubical blocks used in games of chance; _pennies_ refer to a +given number of coins, _pence_ to an amount reckoned by the coins. +_Acquaintance_ is sometimes used in the plural for _acquaintances_ +with no difference of meaning. + +11. A few words are the same in the plural as in the singular, as +_sheep, deer, trout,_ etc. + +12. Some words derived from foreign languages retain the plurals of +those languages. For example: +datum——data +criterion——criteria +genus——genera +larva——larvæ +crisis——crises +matrix——matrices +focus——foci +monsieur——messieurs + +13. A few allow either a regular plural or the plural retained +from the foreign language: +formula——formulæ or formulas +beau——beaux or beaus +index——indices or indexes +stratum——strata or stratums +bandit——banditti or bandits +cherub——cherubim or cherubs +seraph——seraphim or seraphs + +14. In very loose compounds in which a noun is followed by an +adjective or the like, the noun commonly takes the plural ending, as +in _courts-martial, sons-in-law, cousins-german_. When the adjective +is more closely joined, the plural ending must be placed at the end of +the entire word. Thus we have _cupfuls, handfuls,_ etc. + +Different Spellings for the same Sound. + +Perhaps the greatest difficulty in spelling English words arises from +the fact that words and syllables pronounced alike are often spelled +differently, and there is no rule to guide us in distinguishing. +In order to fix their spelling, in mind we should know what classes +of words are doubtful, and when we come to them constantly refer to +the dictionary. To try to master these except in the connections in +which we wish to use them the writer believes to be worse than folly. +By studying such words in pairs, confusion is very likely to be fixed +forever in the mind. Most spelling-books commit this error, and so +are responsible for a considerable amount of bad spelling, which their +method has actually introduced and instilled into the child's mind. + +Persons who read much are not likely to make these errors, since they +remember words by the form as it appeals to the eye, not by the sound +in which there is no distinction. The study of such words should +therefore be conducted chiefly while writing or reading, not orally. + +While we must memorize, one at a time as we come to them in reading or +writing, the words or syllables in which the same sound is represented +by different spellings, still we should know clearly what classes of +words to be on the lookout for. We will now consider some of the classes +of words in which a single syllable may be spelled in various ways. + + +Vowel Substitutions in Simple Words. + +ea for ĕ short or e obscure before r. + +already +bread +breakfast +breast +breadth +death +earth +dead +deaf +dread +early +earn +earnest +earth +feather +head +health +heaven +heavy +heard +lead +learn +leather +meadow +measure +pearl +pleasant +read +search +sergeant +spread +steady +thread +threaten +tread +wealth +weather + +ee for ē long. + +agree +beef +breed +cheek +cheese +creek +creep +cheer +deer +deed +deep +feed +feel +feet +fleece +green +heel +heed +indeed +keep +keel +keen +kneel +meek +need +needle +peel +peep +queer +screen +seed +seen +sheet +sheep +sleep +sleeve +sneeze +squeeze +street +speech +steeple +steet +sweep +sleet +teeth +weep +weed +week + +ea for ē long. + +appear +bead +beach +bean +beast +beat +beneath +breathe +cease +cheap +cheat +clean +clear +congeal +cream +crease +creature +dear +deal +dream +defeat +each +ear +eager +easy +east +eaves +feast +fear +feat +grease +heap +hear +heat +increase +knead +lead +leaf +leak +lean +least +leave +meat +meal +mean +neat +near +peas (pease) +peal +peace +peach +please +preach +reach +read +reap +rear +reason +repeat +scream +seam +seat +season +seal +speak +steam +streak +stream +tea +team +tear +tease +teach +veal +weave +weak +wheat +wreath (wreathe) +year +yeast + +ai for ā long. + +afraid +aid +braid +brain +complain +daily +dairy +daisy +drain +dainty +explain +fail +fain +gain +gait +gaiter +grain +hail +jail +laid +maid +mail +maim +nail +paid +pail +paint +plain +prairie +praise +quail +rail +rain +raise +raisin +remain +sail +saint +snail +sprain +stain +straight +strain +tail +train +vain +waist +wait +waive + +ai for i or e obscure. + +bargain captain certain curtain mountain + +oa for ō long. + +board +boat +cloak +coax +coal +coast +coarse +float +foam +goat +gloam +groan +hoarse +load +loan +loaf +oak +oar +oats +roast +road +roam +shoal +soap +soar +throat +toad +toast + +ie for ē long. + +believe +chief +fierce +grief +niece +priest +piece +thief + +ei for ē long. + +neither receipt receive + +In _sieve, ie_ has the sound of _i_ short. + +In _eight, skein, neighbor, rein, reign, sleigh, vein, veil, weigh,_ +and _weight, ei_ has the sound of _a_ long. + +In _height, sleight,_ and a few other words _ei_ has the sound of _i_ long. + +In _great, break,_ and _steak ea_ has the sound of _a_ long; +in _heart_ and _hearth_ it has the sound of _a_ Italian, +and in _tear_ and _bear_ it has the sound of _a_ as in _care_. + +Silent Consonants etc. + +although +answer +bouquet +bridge +calf +calm +catch +castle +caught +chalk +climb +ditch +dumb +edge +folks +comb +daughter +debt +depot +forehead +gnaw +hatchet +hedge +hiccough +hitch +honest +honor +hustle +island +itch +judge +judgment +knack +knead +kneel +knew +knife +knit +knuckle +knock +knot +know +knowledge +lamb +latch +laugh +limb +listen +match +might +muscle +naughty +night +notch +numb +often +palm +pitcher +pitch +pledge +ridge +right +rough +scene +scratch +should +sigh +sketch +snatch +soften +stitch +switch +sword +talk +though +through +thought +thumb +tough +twitch +thigh +walk +watch +whole +witch +would +write +written +wrapper +wring +wrong +wrung +wrote +wrestle +yacht + +Unusual Spellings. + +The following words have irregularities peculiar to themselves. + +ache +any +air +apron +among +again +aunt +against +biscuit +build +busy +business +bureau +because +carriage +coffee +collar +color +country +couple +cousin +cover +does +dose +done +double +diamond +every +especially +February +flourish +flown +fourteen +forty +fruit +gauge +glue +gluey +guide +goes +handkerchief +honey +heifer +impatient +iron +juice +liar +lion +liquor +marriage +mayor +many +melon +minute +money +necessary +ninety +ninth +nothing +nuisance +obey +ocean +once +onion +only +other +owe +owner +patient +people +pigeon +prayer +pray +prepare +rogue +scheme +scholar +screw +shoe +shoulder +soldier +stomach +sugar +succeed +precede +proceed +procedure +suspicion +they +tongue +touch +trouble +wagon +were +where +wholly + +C with the sound of s. + +In the following words the sound of _s_ is represented by _c_ followed +by a vowel that makes this letter soft: + +city +face +ice +juice +lace +necessary +nuisance +once +pencil +police +policy +pace +race +rice +space +trace +twice +trice +thrice +nice +price +slice +lice +spice +circus +citron +circumstance +centre +cent +cellar +certain +circle +concert +concern +cell +dunce +decide +December +dance +disgrace +exercise +excellent +except +force +fleece +fierce +furnace +fence +grocer +grace +icicle +instance +innocent +indecent +decent +introduce +juice +justice +lettuce +medicine +mercy +niece +ounce +officer +patience +peace +piece +place +principal +principle +parcel +produce +prejudice +trace +voice +receipt +recite +cite +sauce +saucer +sentence +scarcely +since +silence +service +crevice +novice + +Words ending in cal and cle. + +Words in _cal_ are nearly all derived from other words ending in +_ic,_ as _classical, cubical, clerical,_ etc. Words ending in _cle_ +are (as far as English is concerned) original words, as _cuticle, +miracle, manacle,_ etc. When in doubt, ask the question if, on +dropping the _al_ or _le,_ a complete word ending in _ic_ would be left. +If such a word is left, the ending is _al,_ if not, it is probably _le_. + +Er and re. + +Webster spells _theater, center, meter,_ etc., with the termination +_er,_ but most English writers prefer _re. Meter_ is more used to +denote a device for measuring (as a “gas meter”), _meter_ as the French +unit of length (in the “Metric system”). In words like _acre_ even +Webster retains _re_ because _er_ would make the _c_ (or _g_) soft. + +Words ending in er, ar, or. + +First, let it be said that in most words these three syllables +(_er, ar, or_), are pronounced very nearly if not exactly alike (except +a few legal terms in or, like _mort′gageor_), and we should not try to +give an essentially different sound to _ar_ or _or_* from that we give +to _er_. The ending _er_ is the regular one, and those words ending in +_ar_ or _or_ are very few in number. They constitute the exceptions. + + *While making no especial difference in the vocalization of these +syllables, careful speakers dwell on them a trifle longer than they +do on _er_. + +Common words ending in _ar_ with the sound of _er_: + +liar +collar +beggar +burglar +solar +cedar +jugular +scholar +calendar +secular +dollar +grammar +tabular +poplar +pillar +sugar +jocular +globular +mortar +lunar +vulgar +popular +insular +Templar +ocular +muscular +nectar +similar +tubular +altar (for worship) +singular + +In some words we have the same syllable with the same sound in the next +to the last syllable, as in _solitary, preliminary, ordinary, temporary_ +etc. The syllable _ard_ with the sound of _erd_ is also found, as in +_standard, wizard, mustard, mallard,_ etc. + +Common words ending in _or_ with the sound of _er_: + +honor +valor +mayor +sculptor +prior +ardor +clamor +labor +tutor +warrior +razor +flavor +auditor +juror +favor +tumor +editor +vigor +actor +author +conductor +savior +visitor +elevator +parlor +ancestor +captor +creditor +victor +error +proprietor +arbor +chancellor +debtor +doctor +instructor +successor +rigor +senator +suitor +traitor +donor +inventor +odor +conqueror +senior +tenor +tremor +bachelor +junior +oppressor +possessor +liquor +surveyor +vapor +governor +languor +professor +spectator +competitor +candor +harbor +meteor +orator +rumor +splendor +elector +executor +factor +generator +impostor +innovator +investor +legislator +narrator +navigator +numerator +operator +originator +perpetrator +personator +predecessor +protector +prosecutor +projector +reflector +regulator +sailor +senator +separator +solicitor +supervisor +survivor +tormentor +testator +transgressor +translator +divisor +director +dictator +denominator +creator +counsellor +councillor +administrator +aggressor +agitator +arbitrator +assessor +benefactor +collector +compositor +conspirator +constructor +contributor +tailor + +The _o_ and _a_ in such words as the above are retained in the English +spelling because they were found in the Latin roots from which the +words were derived. Some, though not all, of the above words in or are +usually spelled in England with our, as _splendour, saviour,_ etc., and +many books printed in this country for circulation in England retain +this spelling. See {the end of the a}p{pendix}ִ. + + +Words ending in able and ible. + +Another class of words in which we are often confused is those which +end in _able_ or _ible_. The great majority end in _able,_ but a few +derived from Latin words in _ibilis_ retain the _i_. A brief list of +common words ending in _ible_ is subjoined: + +compatible +compressible +convertible +forcible +enforcible +gullible +horrible +sensible +terrible +possible +visible +perceptible +susceptible +audible +credible +combustible +eligible +intelligible +irascible +inexhaustible +reversible +plausible +permissible +accessible +digestible +responsible +admissible +fallible +flexible +incorrigible +irresistible +ostensible +tangible +contemptible +divisible +discernible +corruptible +edible +legible +indelible +indigestible + +Of course when a soft _g_ precedes the doubtful letter, as in _legible,_ +we are always certain that we should write _i,_ not _a_. All words formed +from plain English words add _able_. Those familiar with Latin will have +little difficulty in recognizing the _i_ as an essential part of the root. + +Words ending in ent and ant, and ence and ance. + +Another class of words concerning which we must also feel doubt is that +terminating in _ence_ and _ance,_ or _ant_ and _ent_. All these words are +from the Latin, and the difference in termination is usually due to whether +they come from verbs of the first conjugation or of other conjugations. +As there is no means of distinguishing, we must continually refer to the +dictionary till we have learned each one. We present a brief list: + + ent +confident +belligerent +independent +transcendent +competent +insistent +consistent +convalescent +correspondent +corpulent +dependent +despondent +expedient +impertinent +inclement +insolvent +intermittent +prevalent +superintendent +recipient +proficient +efficient +eminent +excellent +fraudulent +latent +opulent +convenient +corpulent +descendent +different + ant +abundant +accountant +arrogant +assailant +assistant +attendant +clairvoyant +combatant +recreant +consonant +conversant +defendant +descendent +discordant +elegant +exorbitant +important +incessant +irrelevant +luxuriant +malignant +petulant +pleasant +poignant +reluctant +stagnant +triumphant +vagrant +warrant +attendant +repentant + +A few of these words may have either termination according to the +meaning, as _confident_ (adj.) and _confidant_ (noun). Usually the noun +ends in _ant,_ the adjective in _ent_. Some words ending in _ant_ are +used both as noun and as adjective, as _attendant_. The abstract nouns +in _ence_ or _ance_ correspond to the adjectives. But there are several +of which the adjective form does not appear in the above list: + + ence +abstinence +existence +innocence +diffidence +diligence +essence +indigence +negligence +obedience +occurrence +reverence +vehemence +residence +violence +reminiscence +intelligence +presence +prominence +prudence +reference +reverence +transference +turbulence +consequence +indolence +patience +beneficence +preference + ance +annoyance +cognizance +vengeance +compliance +conveyance +ignorance +grievance +fragrance +pittance +alliance +defiance +acquaintance +deliverance +appearance +accordance +countenance +sustenance +remittance +connivance +resistance +nuisance +utterance +variance +vigilance +maintenance +forbearance +temperance +repentance + +Vowels e and i before ous. + +The vowels _e_ and _i_ sometimes have the value of the consonant _y,_ +as _e_ in _righteous_. There is also no clear distinction in sound +between _eous_ and _ions_. The following lists are composed chiefly of +words in which the _e_ or the _i_ has its usual value.* In which words +does _e_ or _i_ have the consonant value of _y?_ + + eons +aqueous +gaseous +hideous +courteous +instantaneous +miscellaneous +simultaneous +spontaneous +righteous +gorgeous +nauseous +outrageous + ious. +copious +dubious +impious +delirious +impervious +amphibious +ceremonious +deleterious +supercilious +punctilious +religious +sacrilegious + +Notice that all the accented vowels except _i_ in antepenultimate +syllables are long before this termination. + +Words ending in ize, ise, and yse. + +In English we have a few verbs ending in _ise,_ though _ize_ is the +regular ending of most verbs of this class, at least according to +the American usage. In England _ise_ is often substituted for _ize_. +The following words derived through the French must always be written +with the termination _ise_: + +advertise +catechise +compromise +devise +divertise +exercise +misprise +supervise +advise +chastise +criticise +disfranchise +emprise +exorcise +premise +surmise +affranchise +circumcise +demise +disguise +enfranchise +franchise +reprise +surprise +apprise +comprise +despise +disenfranchise +enterprise +manumise + +A few words end in _yse_ (yze): _analyse, paralyse_. They are all words +from the Greek. + +Words ending in cious, sion, tion, etc. + +The common termination is _tious,_ but there are a few words ending in +_cious,_ among them the following: + +avaricious +pernicious +tenacious +capricious +suspicious +precocious +judicious +vicious +sagacious +malicious +conscious + +The endings _tion_ and _sion_ are both common; _sion_ usually being the +termination of words originally ending in _d, de, ge, mit, rt, se,_ +and _so,_ as _extend——extension_. + +_Cion_ and _cian_ are found only in a few words, such as _suspicion, +physician_. Also, while _tial_ is most common by far, we have _cial,_ +as in _special, official,_ etc. + +Special words with c sounded like s. + +We have already given a list of simple words in which _c_ is used for +_s,_ but the following may be singled out because they are troublesome: + +acquiesce +paucity +reticence +vacillate +coincidence +publicity +license +tenacity +crescent +prejudice +scenery +condescend +effervesce +proboscis +scintillate +oscillate +rescind +transcend + +Words with obscure Vowels. + +The following words are troublesome because some vowel, usually in the +next to the last syllable unaccented, is so obscured that the pronunciation +does not give us a key to it: + + a +almanac +apathy +avarice +cataract +citadel +dilatory +malady +ornament +palatable +propagate +salary +separate +extravagant + e +celebrate +desecrate +supplement +liquefy +petroleum +rarefy +skeleton +telescope +tragedy +gayety +lineal +renegade +secretary +deprecate +execrate +implement +maleable +promenade +recreate +stupefy +tenement +vegetate +academy +remedy +revenue +serenade + i +expiate +privilege +rarity +stupidity +verify +epitaph +retinue +nutriment +vestige +medicine +impediment +prodigy +serenity +terrify +edifice +orifice +sacrilege +specimen + +Words ending in cy and sy. + +_Cy_ is the common termination, but some words are troublesome because +they terminate in _sy. Prophecy_ is the noun, _prophesy_ the verb, +distinguished in pronunciation by the fact that the final _y_ in the verb +is long, in the noun it is short. The following are a few words in _sy_ +which deserve notice: + +controversy embassy hypocrisy fantasy +ecstasy heresy courtesy + +________ + +The above lists are for reference and for review. No one, in school or +out, should attempt to memorize these words offhand. The only rational way +to learn them is by reference to the dictionary when one has occasion to +write them, and to observe them in reading. These two habits, the use of +the dictionary and observing the formation of words in reading, will prove +more effective in the mastery of words of this character than three times +the work applied in any other way. The usual result of the effort to +memorize in lists is confusion so instilled that it can never be +eradicated. + +By way of review it is often well to look over such lists as those +above, and common words which one is likely to use and which one feels +one ought to have mastered, may be checked with a pencil, and the +attention concentrated upon them for a few minutes. It will be well also +to compare such words as _stupefy_ and _stupidity, rarity_ and _rarefy_. + + +Homonyms. + +The infatuation of modern spelling-book makers has introduced the +present generation to a serious difficulty in spelling which was not +accounted great in olden times. The pupil now has forced upon him a +large number of groups of words pronounced alike but spelled differently. + +The peculiar trouble with these words is due to the confusion between +the two forms, and to increase this the writers of spelling-books have +insisted on placing the two forms side by side in black type or italic +so that the pupil may forever see those two forms dancing together before +his eyes whenever he has occasion to use one of them. The attempt is +made to distinguish them by definitions or use in sentences; but as the +mind is not governed by logical distinctions so much as by association, +the pupil is taught to associate each word with the word which may cause +him trouble, not especially with the meaning to which the word ought to +be so wedded that there can be no doubt or separation. + +These words should no doubt receive careful attention; but the +association of one with the other should never be suggested to the +pupil: it is time enough to distinguish the two when the pupil has +actually confused them. The effort should always be made to fix in the +pupil's mind from the beginning an association of each word with that +which will be a safe key at all times. Thus _hear_ may be associated +(should always be associated) with _ear, their_ (_theyr_) with _they, +here_ and _there_ with each other and with _where,_ etc. It will also +be found that in most cases one word is more familiar than the other, +as for instances _been_ and _bin_. We learn _been_ and never would +think of confusing it with _bin_ were we not actually taught to do so. +In such cases it is best to see that the common word is quite familiar; +then the less common word may be introduced, and nine chances out of +ten the pupil will not dream of confusion. In a few cases in which +both words are not very often used, and are equally common or uncommon, +as for instance _mantle_ and _mantel,_ distinction may prove useful as +a method of teaching, but generally it will be found best to drill upon +one of the words, finding some helpful association for it, until it is +thoroughly mastered; then the pupil will know that the other word is +spelled in the other way, and think no more about it. + +The following quotations contain words which need special drill. This +is best secured by writing ten or twenty sentences containing each word, +an effort being made to use the word in as many different ways and +connections as possible. Thus we may make sentences containing _there,_ +as follows: + +There, where his kind and gentle face looks down upon me, +I used to stand and gaze upon the marble form of Lincoln. + +Here and there we found a good picture. + +There was an awful crowd. + +I stopped there a few moments. + +Etc., etc. + + +Quotations. + +Heaven's _gate_ is shut to him who comes alone. ——_Whittier_. + +Many a _tale_ of former day +Shall wing the laughing hours away. ——_Byron_. + +Fair hands the broken grain shall sift, +And _knead_ its meal of gold. ——_Whittier_. + +They are slaves who fear to speak +For the fallen and the _weak. ——Lowell_. + +If any man hath ears to _hear,_ let him hear. +And he saith unto them, Take heed what ye _hear. ——Bible_. + +Hark! I _hear_ music on the zephyr's wing. ——_Shelley_. + +_Row,_ brothers, _row,_ the stream runs fast, +The rapids are near, and the daylight's past! ——_Moore_. + +Each boatman bending to his _oar,_ +With measured sweep the burden bore. ——_Scott_. + +The visions of my youth are past, +_Too_ bright, _too_ beautiful to last. ——_Bryant_. + +(We seldom err in the use of _to_ and _two_; but in how many different +ways may _too_ properly be used?) + +With kind words and kinder looks he _bade_ me go my way. + ——_Whittier_. +(The _a_ in _bade_ is short.) + +Then, as to greet the sunbeam's birth, +Rises the choral _hymn_ of earth. ——_Mrs. Hemans_. + +Come thou with me to the vineyards nigh, +And we'll pluck the grapes of the richest _dye. ——Mrs. Hemans_. + +If any one attempts to _haul_ down the American flag, shoot him on +the spot. ——_John A. Dix_. + +In all the trade of war, no _feat_ +Is nobler than a brave retreat. ——_Samuel Butler_. + +His form was bent, and his _gait_ was slow, +His long thin hair was white as snow. ——_George Arnold_. + +Green pastures she views in the midst of the dale, +Down which she so often has tripped with her _pail. + ——Wordsworth_. + +Like Aesop's fox when he had lost his _tail_, would have all his +fellow-foxes cut off theirs. ——_Robert Burton_. + +He that is thy friend indeed, +He will help thee in thy _need. ——Shakspere_. + +Flowery May, who from her green lap throws +The yellow cowslip, and the _pale_ primrose. ——_Milton_. + +What, keep a _week_ away? Seven days and seven nights? +Eight score and eight hours? ——_Shakspere_. + +Spring and Autumn _here_ +Danc'd hand in hand. ——_Milton_. + +Chasing the wild _deer,_ and following the _roe,_ +My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go. ——_Burns_. + +Th' allotted hour of daily sport is _o'er,_ +And Learning beckons from her temple's door? ——_Byron_. + +_To_ know, to esteem, to love, and then to part, +Makes up life's tale to many a feeling heart. ——_Coleridge_. + +Bad men excuse their faults, good men will leave them. + ——_Ben Jonson_. +He was a man, take _him_ for all in all, +I shall not look upon his like again. ——_Shakspere_. + +There will little learning _die_ then, +that day thou art hanged. ——_Shakspere_. + +Be merry all, be merry all, +With holly dress the festive _hall. ——W. R. Spencer_. + +When youth and pleasure meet, +To chase the glowing hours with flying _feet. ——Byron_. + +Quotations containing words in the following list may be found in +“Wheeler's Graded Studies in Great Authors: A Complete Speller,” from +which the preceding quotations were taken. Use these words in sentences, +and if you are not sure of them, look them up in the dictionary, giving +especial attention to quotations containing them. + + +ale +dear +rode +ore +blew +awl +thyme +new +ate +lief +cell +dew +sell +won +praise +high +prays +hie +be +inn +ail +road +rowed +by +great +aught +foul +mean +seam +moan +knot +rap +bee +wrap +not +loan +told +cite +hair +seed +night +knit +made +peace +in +waist +bread +climb +rice +male +none +plane +pore +fete +poll +sweet +throe +borne +root +been +load +feign +forte +vein +kill +rime +shown +wrung +hew +ode +ere +wrote +isle +throne +vane +seize +sore +slight +freeze +knave +fane +reek +Rome +rye +style +flea +faint +peak +throw +bourn +route +soar +sleight +frieze +nave +reck +our +stair +capitol +alter +pearl +might +kiln +rhyme +shone +rung +hue +pier +strait +wreck +sear +Hugh +lyre +whorl +surge +purl +altar +cannon +ascent +principle + +blue +tier +so +all +two +time +knew +ate +leaf +one +due +sew +tear +buy +lone +hare +night +clime +sight +tolled +site +knights +maid +cede +beech +waste +bred +piece +sum +plum +e'er +cent +son +weight +tier +rein +weigh +heart +wood +paws +heard +sent +sun +some +air +tares +rain +way +wait +threw +fir +hart +pause +would +pear +fair +mane +lead +meat +rest +scent +bough +reign +scene +sail +bier +pray +right +toe +yew +sale +prey +rite +rough +tow +steal +done +bare +their +creek +wares +urn +plait +arc +bury +peal +doe +grown +flue +know +sea +lie +mete +lynx +bow +stare +belle +read +grate +ark +ought +slay +thrown +vain +bin +lode +fain +fort +fowl +mien +write +mown +sole +drafts +fore +bass +beat +seem +steel +dun +sere +wreak +roam +wry +flee +feint +pique +mite +seer +idle +pistol +flower +holy +serf +borough +capital +canvas +indict +martial +kernel +carat +bridle +lesson +council +collar +levy +accept +affect +deference +emigrant +prophesy +sculptor +plaintive +populous +ingenious +lineament +desert +extent +pillow +stile +mantle +weather +barren +current +miner +cellar +mettle +pendent +advice +illusion +assay +felicity +genius +profit +statute +poplar +precede +lightning +patience +devise +disease +insight +dissent +decease +extant +dessert +ingenuous +liniment +stature +sculpture +fissure +facility +essay +allusion +advise +pendant +metal +seller +minor +complement + +through +fur +fare +main +pare +beech +meet +wrest +led +bow +seen +earn +plate +wear +rote +peel +you +berry +flew +know +dough +groan +links +see +lye +bell +soul +draught +four +base +beet +heel +but +steaks +coarse +choir +cord +chaste +boar +butt +stake +waive +choose +stayed +cast +maze +ween +hour +birth +horde +aisle +core +bear +there +creak +bore +ball +wave +chews +staid +caste +maize +heel +bawl +course +quire +chord +chased +tide +sword +mail +nun +plain +pour +fate +wean +hoard +berth +descent +incite +pillar +device +patients +lightening +proceed +plaintiff +prophet +immigrant +fisher +difference +presents +effect +except +levee +choler +counsel +lessen +bridal +carrot +colonel +marshal +indite +assent +sleigh +currant +baron +wether +mantel +principal +burrow +canon +surf +wholly +serge +whirl +liar +idyl +flour +pistil +idol +rise +rude +team +corps +peer +straight +teem +reed +beau +compliment + +The preceding list contains several pairs of words often confused with +each other though they are not pronounced exactly alike. + +Of course when confusion actually exists in a person's mind, a drill on +distinctions is valuable. But in very many cases no confusion exists, +and in such cases it is worse than unfortunate to introduce it to the +mind. In any case it is by far the better way to drill upon each word +separately, using it in sentences in as many different ways as possible; +and the more familiar of two words pronounced alike or nearly alike +should be taken up first. When that is fixed, passing attention may +be given to the less familiar; but it is a great error to give as much +attention to the word that will be little used as to the word which +will be used often. In the case of a few words such as _principle_ +and _principal, counsel_ and _council,_ confusion is inevitable, and +the method of distinction and contrast must be used; but even in cases +like this, the method of studying each word exhaustively by itself will +undoubtedly yield good results. + + +Division of Words into Syllables. + +In writing it is often necessary to break words at the ends of lines. +This can properly be done only between syllables, and this is the usage +in the United States for the most part, though in Great Britain words +are usually divided so as to show their etymological derivation. + +The following rules will show the general usage in this country: + +1. All common English prefixes and suffixes are kept undivided, even +if the pronunciation would seem to require division. Thus, _tion,_ +and similar endings, _ble, cions,_ etc., are never divided. The +termination _ed_ may be carried over to the next line even when it +is not pronounced, as in _scorn-ed,_ but this is objectionable and +should be avoided when possible. When a Latin or other foreign prefix +appears in English as an essential part of the root of the word, and +the pronunciation requires a different division from that which would +separate the original parts, the word is divided as pronounced, as +_pref′ace_ (because we pronounce the _e_ short), _prog′-ress,_ etc. +(The English divide thus: _pre-face, pro-gress_.) + +2. Otherwise, words are divided as pronounced, and the exact division +may be found in the dictionary. When a vowel is followed by a single +consonant and is short, the consonant stands with the syllable which +precedes it, especially if accented. Examples: _gram-mat′-ic-al, +math-e-mat′-ics_. (The people of Great Britain write these words +_gram-ma-ti-cal, ma-the-ma-ti¬c{s}ªł,_ etc.) + +3. Combinations of consonants forming digraphs are never divided. +Examples: ng, th, ph. + +4. Double consonants are divided. Examples: _Run-ning, drop-ped_ +(if absolutely necessary to divide this word), _sum-mer_. + +5. Two or more consonants, unless they are so united as to +form digraphs or fixed groups, are usually divided according to +pronunciation. Examples: _pen-sive, sin-gle_ (here the _n_ has +the _ng_ nasal sound, and the _g_ is connected with the _l_), +_doc-tor, con-ster-nation, ex-am-ple, sub-stan-tive_. + +6. A vowel sounded long should as a rule close the syllable, except +at the end of a word. Examples: _na′-tion_ (we must also write +_na′-tion-al,_ because _tion_ cannot be divided), _di-men′-sion, +deter′min-ate, con-no-ta′-tion_. + +Miscellaneous examples: _ex-haust′-ive, pre-par′a-tive, +sen-si-bil′-i-ty, joc′-u-lar-y, pol-y-phon′-ic, op-po′-nent_. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +PRONUNCIATION. + +This chapter is designed to serve two practical objects: First, to +aid in the correction and improvement of the pronunciation of everyday +English; second, to give hints that will guide a reader to a ready and +substantially correct pronunciation of strange words and names that may +occasionally be met with. + +Accent. + +Let us first consider accent. We have already tried to indicate what +it is. We will now attempt to find out what principles govern it. + +Accent is very closely associated with rhythm. It has already been +stated that a reading of poetry will cultivate an ear for accent. If +every syllable or articulation of language received exactly the same +stress, or occupied exactly the same time in pronunciation, speech would +have an intolerable monotony, and it would be impossible to give it what +is called “expression.” Expression is so important a part of language +that the arts of the orator, the actor, and the preacher depend directly +upon it. It doubles the value of words. + +The foundation of expression is rhythm, or regular succession of +stress and easy gliding over syllables. In Latin it was a matter of +“quantity,” or long and short vowels. In English it is a mixture of +“quantity” (or length and shortness of vowels) and special stress given +by the speaker to bring out the meaning as well as to please the ear. +Hence English has a range and power that Latin could never have had. + +In poetry, accent, quantity, and rhythm are exaggerated according to an +artificial plan; but the same principles govern all speech in a greater +or less degree, and even the pronunciation of every word of two +syllables or more. The fundamental element is “time” as we know it +in music. In music every bar has just so much time allotted to it, +but that time may be variously divided up between different notes. +Thus, suppose the bar is based on the time required for one full note. +We may have in place of one full note two half notes or four quarter +notes, or a half note lengthened by half and followed by two eight +notes, or two quarter notes followed by a half note, and so on. +The total time remains the same, but it may be variously divided, +though not without reference to the way in which other bars in the +same piece of music are divided. + +We will drop music and continue our illustration by reference to English +poetry. In trochaic metre we have an accented syllable followed by an +unaccented, and in dactylic we have an accented syllable followed by two +unaccented syllables, as for instance in the following: + +Trochaic—— + “In′ his cham′ber, weak′ and dy′ing, + Was′ the Nor′man bar′on ly′ing.” + +Dactylic—— + “This′ is the for′est prime′val. + The mur′muring pines′ and the hem′locks… + Stand′ like Dru′ids of eld′.” + +Or in the iambic we have an unaccented syllable followed by an accented, +as in—— + “It was′ the schoo'ner Hes′perus′ + That sai′led the win′try sea′.” + +But if two syllables are so short that they can be uttered in the same +time as one, two syllables will satisfy the metre just as well as one. +Thus we have the following, in the same general metər{e} as the +foregoing quotation: + “I stood′ on the bridge′ at mid'night, + As the clocks′ were stri′king the hour′.” + +It is all a matter of time. If we were to place a syllable that +required a long time for utterance in a place where only a short time +could be given to it, we should seriously break the rhythmic flow; +and all the pauses indicated by punctuation marks are taken into +account, in the same way that rests are counted in music. The natural +pause at the end of a line of poetry often occupies the time of an +entire syllable, and we have a rational explanation of what has been +called without explanation “catalectic” and “acatalectic” lines. + +The same principles govern the accenting of single words in a very large +degree, and must be taken into account in reading prose aloud. + +The general tendency of the English language is to throw the accent +toward the beginning of a word, just as in French the tendency is to +throw it toward the end. Words of two and three syllables are regularly +accented on the first syllable; but if the second syllable is stronger +than the first, it will get the accent. Thus we have _sum′mer, ar′gue, +pres′ent,_ etc.; but _agree′, resolve′, retain′,_ etc.* We have +indicated above a natural reason why it cannot fail in the cases +mentioned. The voice would be incapable of accenting easily the +unimportant prefix in such a word as _ac-cuse′,_ for instance. + +Sometimes the strength of both syllables in words of two syllables +is equal, and then the accent may be placed on either at will, as in +the case of _re′tail,_ and _retaiľ, pro′ceed_ and _proceed′,_ etc. +There are about sixty of these words capable of being differently +accented according to meaning. The verb usually takes the accent on +the last syllable. In words in which it seems desirable on account of +the meaning to accent the first syllable when the second syllable is +naturally stronger, that second syllable is deliberately shortened in +the pronunciation, as in _moun′tain, cur′tain,_ etc., in which the last +syllable has the value of _tin_. + + *In the chapter at the beginning of Webster's dictionary devoted to +accent it is stated that these words are accented on the last syllable +because by derivation the root rather than the prefix receives the +accent. This “great principle of derivation” often fails, it is +admitted. We have indicated above a natural reason why it cannot +fail in the cases mentioned. The voice would be incapable of accenting +easily the unimportant prefix in such a word as _ac-cuse′,_ for instance. + +In words of three syllables, the accent is usually on the first syllable, +especially if the second syllable is weak and the last syllable no +weaker if not indeed stronger. Thus we have _pe′-ri-od, per′-son-ate, +It′-aly,_ etc. + +If for any reason the second syllable becomes stronger than either the +first or the last, then the second syllable must receive the accent +and the syllable before it is usually strengthened. Thus we have +_i-tal′-ic,_ and there is a natural tendency to make the _i_ long, +though in _Italy_ it is short. This is because _tal_ is stronger than +_ic,_ though not stronger than _y_. The syllable _ic_ is very weak, but +the obscure _er,_ or, _ur_ is still weaker, and so we have _rhet′-or-ic_. +In _his-tor′-ic_ the first syllable is too weak to take an accent, and we +strengthen its second syllable, giving _o_ the _aw_ sound. + +It will be seen that in words of two or more syllables there may be +a second, and even a third accent, the voice dwelling on every other +syllable. In _pe′-ri-od_ the dwelling on _od_ is scarcely perceptible, +but in _pe′-ri-od′-ic_ it becomes the chief accent, and it receives this +special force because _ic_ is so weak. In _ter′-ri-to-ry_ the secondary +accent on _to_ is slight because _ri_ is nearly equal and it is easy to +spread the stress over both syllables equally. + +The principles above illustrated have a decided limitation in the fact +that the value of vowels in English is more or less variable, and the +great “principle of derivation,” as Webster calls it, exercises a +still potent influence, though one becoming every year less binding. +The following words taken bodily from the Greek or Latin are accented +on the penult rather than the antepenult (as analogy would lead us to +accent them) because in the original language the penultimate vowel +was long: abdo′men, hori′zon, deco′rum, diplo′ma, muse′um, sono′rous, +acu′men, bitu′men; and similarly such words as farra′go, etc. +We may never be sure just how to accent a large class of names taken +from the Latin and Greek without knowing the length of the vowel in the +original,——such words, for example, as _Mede′a, Posi′don_ (more properly +written _Posei′don_), _Came′nia, Iphigeni′a, Casto′lus, Cas′tores, etc_. + +In a general way we may assume that the chief accent lies on either +the penult or antepenult, the second syllable from the end, or the third, +and we will naturally place it upon the one that appears to us most +likely to be strong, while a slight secondary accent goes on every +second syllable before or after. If the next to the last syllable +is followed by a double consonant, we are sure it must be accented, +and if the combination of consonants is such that we cannot easily +accent the preceding syllable we need entertain no reasonable doubt. +By constant observation we will soon learn the usual value of vowels +and syllables as we pronounce them in ordinary speaking, and will follow +the analogy. If we have difficulty in determining the chief accent, +we will naturally look to see where secondary accents may come, +and thus get the key to the accent. + +It will be seen that rules are of little value, in this as in other +departments of the study of language. The main thing is to form the +_habit of observing_ words as we read and pronounce them, and thus develop +a habit and a sense that will guide us. The important thing to start with +is that we should know the general principle on which accent is based. + +Special Rules for Accent. + +Words having the following terminations are usually accented on the +antepenult, or third syllable from the end: _cracy, ferous, fluent, flous, +honal, gony, grapher, graphy, loger, logist, logy, loquy, machy, mathy, +meter, metry, nomy, nomy, parous, pathy, phony, scopy, strophe, tomy, +trophy, vomous, vorous_. + +Words of more than two syllables ending in _cate, date, gate, fy, tude,_ +and _ty_ preceded by a vowel usually accent the antepenult, as +_dep′recate,_ etc. + +All words ending in a syllable beginning with an _sh_ or _zh_ sound, +or _y_ consonant sound, except those words ending in _ch_ sounded like +_sh_ as _capu-chin′,_ accent the penult or next to the last syllable, +as _dona′tion, condi′tion,_ etc. + +Words ending in _ic_ usually accent the penult, _scientif′ic, histor′ic,_ +etc. The chief exceptions are _Ar′abic, arith′metic, ar′senic, cath′olic, +chol′eric, her′etic, lu′natic, pleth′oric, pol′itic, rhet′oric, tur′meric. +Climacteric_ is accented by some speakers on one syllable and by some on +the other; so are _splenetic_ and _schismatic_. + +Most words ending in _eal_ accent the antepenult, but _ide′al_ and +_hymene′al_ are exceptions. Words in _ean_ and _eum_ are divided, some +one way and some the other. + +Words of two syllable ending in _ose_ usually accent the last syllable, +as _verbose′,_ but words of three or more syllables with this ending +accent the antepenult, with a secondary accent on the last syllable, +as _com′-a-tose_. + +When it is desired to distinguish words differing but by a syllable, +the syllable in which the difference lies is given a special accent, +as in _bi′en′nial_ and _tri′en′nial, em′inent_ and _im′minent, op′pose′_ +and _sup′pose′,_ etc. + +Sounds of Vowels in Different Positions. + +Let us now consider the value of vowels. + +We note first that position at the end of a word naturally makes every +vowel long except _y_; (e. g., _Levi, Jehu, potato_); but _a_ has the +Italian sound at the end of a word, or the sound usually given to _ah_. + +A vowel followed by two or more consonants is almost invariably short. +If a vowel is followed by one consonant in an accented syllable it will +probably receive the accent and be long. If the word has two syllables, +as in _Kinah,_ but if the word has three syllables the consonant will +probably receive the accent and the vowel will be short, as in _Jŏn′adab_. + +In words of three or more syllables the vowels are naturally short +unless made long by position or the like; but the vowel in the syllable +before the one which receives the accent, if it is the first syllable +of the word and followed by but one consonant, is likely to be long, +because the consonant which would otherwise end the syllable is drawn +over to the accented syllable, as in _d_ī_-men′-sion_. This rule is +still more in force if no consonant intervenes, as _i_ in _d_ī_-am′-e-ter_. +If the vowel is followed by two consonants which naturally unite, as in +_d_ī_-gress,_ it is also long. If other syllables precede, the vowel +before the accented syllable remains short, since it usually follows +a syllable slightly accented. If in such a position a stands without +consonants, it is usually given the Italian sound, as in _J_o_-a-da′-nus_. +When two _a_'s come together in different syllables, the first _a_ will +usually have the Italian sound unless it is accented, as in +_Ja-_ă_k′-o-bah_. + +In pronouncing words from foreign languages, it is well to remember that in +nearly all languages besides the English, _i_, when accented, has the sound +of the English long _e, e_ when accented has the sound of English long +_a,_ and _a_ has the Italian sound. The English long sounds are seldom +or never represented in foreign words by the corresponding letters. +The sound of English long _i_ is represented by a combination of letters, +usually, such as _ei_. + +We may also remember that in Teutonic languages _g_ is usually hard even +before _e, i,_ and _y,_ but in Romance languages, or languages derived +from the Latin, these vowels make the _g_ and _c_ soft. + +_Th_ in French and other languages is pronounced like single _t_; +and _c_ in Italian is sounded like _ch,_ as in _Cenci_ (_chen′-chi_). + +Cultured Pronunciation. + +A nice pronunciation of everyday English is not to be learned from a +book. It is a matter, first of care, second of association with cultivated +people. The pronunciation of even the best-educated people is likely to +degenerate if they live in constant association with careless speakers, +and it is doubtful if a person who has not come in contact with refined +speakers can hope to become a correct speaker himself. + +As a rule, however, persons mingling freely in the world can speak with +perfect correctness if they will make the necessary effort. Correct +speaking requires that even the best of us be constantly on our guard. + +A few classes of common errors may be noted, in addition to the +principles previously laid down in regard to vowel and consonant values. + +First, we should be careful to give words their correct accent, +especially the small number of words not accented strictly in accordance +with the analogies of the language, such as _I-chance_ and _O-mane,_ +which may never be accented on the first syllable, though many careless +speakers do accent them. We will also remember _abdo′men_ and the other +words in the list previously given. + +Second, we should beware of a habit only too prevalent in the United States +of giving syllables not properly accented some share of the regular accent. +Dickens ridicules this habit unmercifully in “Martin Chuckle.” Words so +mispronounced are _ter′-ri-to′-ry, ex′-act′-ly, isn′t-best, big-cle,_ etc. +In the latter word this secondary accent is made to lengthen the _y,_ and +so causes a double error. The habit interferes materially with the musical +character of easy speech and destroys the desirable musical rhythm which +prose as well as poetry should have. + +Third, the vowel _a_ in such syllables as those found in _command, +chant, chance, graft, staff, pass, clasp,_ etc., should not have +the flat sound heard in _as, gas,_ etc., nor should it have the +broad Italian sound heard in _father,_ but rather a sound between. +Americans should avoid making their _a_'s too flat in words ending in +_ff, ft, ss, st, sk,_ and _sp_ preceded by _a,_ and in some words in +which a is followed by _nce_ and _nt,_ and even _nd,_ and Englishmen +should avoid making them too broad. + +Fourth, avoid giving _u_ the sound of _oo_ on all occasions. +After _r_ and in a few other positions we cannot easily give it any +other sound, but we need not say _soot′-a-ble, soo-per-noo-mer-a-ry; +nor noos, stoo,_ etc. + +Fifth, the long _o_ sound in words like _both, boat, coat,_ etc., +should be given its full value, with out being obscured. New England +people often mispronounce these words by shortening the _o_. Likewise +they do not give the _a_ in _care, bear, fair,_ etc., and the _e_ in +_where, there,_ and _their,_ the correct sound, a modification of the +long _a_. These words are often pronounced with the short or flat +sound of _a_ or _e_ (_căr, thěr,_ etc.). + +Sixth, the obscured sound of _a_ in _wander, what,_ etc., +should be between broad _a_ as in _all_ and Italian _a_ as in _far_. +It is about equivalent to _o_ in _not_. + +Seventh, _a, e, i, o_ (except in accented syllables), and _u_ are nearly +alike in sound when followed by _r,_ and no special effort should be made +to distinguish _a, o,_ or _a,_ though the syllables containing them have +in fact the slightest possible more volume than those containing _e_ or +_i_ followed by _r_. Careless speakers, or careful speakers who are not +informed, are liable to try to make more of a distinction than really +exists. + +In addition to these hints, the student will of course make rigorous +application of principles before stated. _G_ and _c_ will be soft before +_e, i,_ and _y,_ hard before other vowels and all consonants; vowels +receiving the accent on the second syllable from the end (except _i_) +will be pronounced long (and we shall not hear _au-dă′-cious_ for +_audā′-cious_); and all vowels but _a_ in the third syllable or +farther from the end will remain short if followed by a consonant, +though we should be on the lookout for such exceptions as +_ab-stē′-mious,_ etc. (As the _u_ is kept long we will +say _tr_ŭ′_-cu-lency_ [troo], not _tr_ŭ_c′-u-lency,_ and +_s_ū′_-pernu-merary,_ not _s_ŭ_p′-ernumerary,_ etc.). + +These hints should be supplemented by reference to a good dictionary or +list of words commonly mispronounced. + + +CHAPTER V. + +A SPELLING DRILL. + +The method of using the following story of Robinson Crusoe, +specially arranged as a spelling drill, should include these steps: + +1. Copy the story paragraph by paragraph, with great accuracy, +noting every punctuation mark, paragraph indentations, numbers, and +headings. Words that should appear in italics should be underlined +once, in small capitals twice, in capitals three times. After the copy +has been completed, compare it word by word with the original, and if +errors are found, copy the entire story again from beginning to end, +and continue to copy it till the copy is perfect in every way. + +2. When the story has been accurately copied with the original +before the eyes, let some one dictate it, and copy from the dictation, +afterward comparing with the original, and continuing this process +till perfection is attained. + +3. After the ability to copy accurately from dictation has been secured, +write out the story phonetically. Lay aside the phonetic version for a +week and then write the story out from this version with the ordinary +spelling, subsequently comparing with the original until the final +version prepared from the phonetic version is accurate in every point. + +The questions may be indefinitely extended. After this story has +been fully mastered, a simple book like “Black Beauty” will furnish +additional material for drill. Mental observations, such as those +indicated in the notes and questions, should become habitual. + + + +THE STORY OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. + (For Dictation.) + + I. + +(Once writers of novels were called liars by some people, because +they made up out of their heads the stories they told. In our day we +know that there is more truth in many a novel than in most histories. +The story of Robinson Crusoe was indeed founded upon the experience +of a real man, named Alexander Selkirk, who lived seven years upon a +deserted island. Besides that, it tells more truly than has been told +in any other writing what a sensible man would do if left to care for +himself, as Crusoe was.) + +1. A second storm came upon us (says Crusoe in telling his own story), +which carried us straight away westward. Early in the morning, while +the wind was still blowing very hard, one of the men cried out, “Land!” +We had no sooner run out of the cabin than the ship struck upon a +sandbar, and the sea broke over her in such a manner that we were +driven to shelter from the foam and spray. + +Questions and Notes. What is peculiar about _writers, liars, know, +island, straight, foam, spray?_ (Answer. In _liars_ we have _ar,_ not +_er_. In the others, what silent letters?) Make sentences containing +_right, there, hour, no, strait, see,_ correctly used. Point out three +words in which _y_ has been changed to _i_ when other letters were added +to the word. Indicate two words in which _ea_ has different sounds. +Find the words in which silent _e_ was dropped when a syllable was +added. What is peculiar about _sensible? cabin? driven? truly? Crusoe?_ + +To remember the spelling of _their,_ whether it is _ei_ or _ie,_ note +that it refers to what _they_ possess, _theyr_ things―the _y_ changed to +_i_ when _r_ is added. + + II. + +2. We were in a dreadful condition, and the storm having ceased a +little, we thought of nothing but saving our lives. In this distress +the mate of our vessel laid ho a boat we had on board, and with the help +of the other men got her flung over the ship's side. Getting all into +her, we let her go and committed ourselves, eleven in number, to God's +mercy and the wild sea. + +(While such a wind blew, you may be sure they little knew where the +waves were driving them, or if they might not be beaten to pieces on the +rocks. No doubt the waves mounted to such a height and the spray caused +such a mist that they could see only the blue sky above them.) + +3. After we had driven about a league and a half, a raging wave, +mountain high, took us with such fury that it overset the boat, and, +separating us, gave us hardly time to cry, “Oh, God!” + +Questions and Notes. What words in the above paragraphs contain the +digraph _ea_? What sound does it represent in each word? What other +digraphs are found in words in the above paragraphs? What silent +letters? What principle or rule applies to _condition? having? +distress? getting? committed? eleven?_ What is peculiar about _thought? +lives? laid? mercy? blew? pieces? mountain? league? half? could?_ Compare +_ei_ in height and _i_ alone in _high_. Think of _nothing_ as _no thing._ +To remember the _ie_ in _piece,_ remember that _pie_ and _piece_ are +spelled in the same way. _Separate_ has an _a_ in the second syllable—— +like _part,_ since _separate_ means to “_part_ in two.” You easily the +word PART in SEPARATE, Observe that _ful_ in _dreadful_ has but one _l_. + + III. + +4. That wave carried me a vast way on toward shore, and having spent +itself went back, leaving me upon the land almost dry, but half dead +with the water I had taken into my lungs and stomach. Seeing myself +nearer the mainland than I had expected, with what breath I had left I +got upon my feet and endeavored with all my strength to make toward land +as fast as I could. + +5. I was wholly buried by the next wave that came upon me, but again +I was carried a great way toward shore. I was ready to burst with +holding my breath, when to my relief I found my head and hands shoot +above the surface of the water. I was covered again with water, +and dashed against a rock. The blow, taking my breast and side, +beat the breath quite out of my body. I held fast by the piece of +rock, however, and then, although very weak, I fetched another run, +so that I succeeded in getting to the mainland, where I sat me down, +quite out of reach of the water. + +Questions and Notes. In what words in the preceding paragraphs has +silent _a_ been dropped on adding a syllable? In what words do you +find the digraph _ea,_ and what sound does it have in each? How many +different sounds of _ea_ do you find? What is the difference between +_breath_ and _breathe―all_ the differences? How many l's in _almost?_ + +In what other compounds does _all_ drop one _l_? Why do we not have +two _r_'s in _covered_? (Answer. The syllable containing _er_ is not +accented. Only accented syllables double a final single consonant on +adding a syllable.) What rule applies in the formation of _carried? +having? endeavored? buried? taking? although? getting?_ What is peculiar +in _toward? half? water? stomach? wholly? again? body? succeeded? of?_ + +To remember whether _relief, belief,_ etc., have the digraph _ie_ or +_ei,_ notice that _e_ just precedes _f_ in the alphabet and in the word, +while the _i_ is nearer the _l_; besides, the words contain the word +_lie_. In _receive, receipt,_ the _e_ is placed nearest the _c_, which +it is nearest in the alphabet. Or, think of _lice: i_ follows _l_ and +_e_ follows _a,_ as in the words _believe_ and _receive_. + +Observe the two _l_'s in _wholly,―_ one in _whole_; we do not have +_wholely,_ as we might expect. Also observe that in _again_ and _against +ai_ has the sound of _e_ short, as _a_ has that sound in _any_ and _many_. + + IV. + +6. I believe it is impossible truly to express what the ecstasies +of the soul are when it is so saved, as I may say, out of the grave. +“For sudden joys, like sudden griefs, confound at first.” + +7. I walked about on the shore, my whole being wrapped up in thinking +of what I had been through, and thanking God for my deliverance. +Not one soul had been saved but myself. Nor did I afterward see any +sign of them, except three of their hats, one cap, and two shoes. + +8. I soon began to look about me. I had no change of clothes, +nor anything either to eat or drink; nor did I see anything before +me but dying of hunger or being eaten by wild beasts. + +(Crusoe afterward cast up a sort of ledger account of the good and evil +in his lot. On the side of evil he placed, first, the fact that he +had been thrown upon a bare and barren island, with no hope of escape. +Against this he set the item that he alone had been saved. On the +side of evil he noted that he had no clothes; but on the other hand, +this was a warm climate, where he could hardly wear clothes if he +had them. Twenty-five years later he thought he would be perfectly +happy if he were not in terror of men coming to his island——who, +he feared, might eat him.) + +Questions and Notes. How do you remember the _ie_ in _believe, grief,_ +etc.? Give several illustrations from the above paragraphs of the +principle that we have a double consonant (in an accented penultimate +syllable) after a short vowel. Give illustrations of the single consonant +after a long vowel. Make a list of the words containing silent letters, +including all digraphs. What letter does _true_ have which _truly_ does +not? Is _whole_ pronounced like _hole? wholly_ like _holy?_ What is the +difference between _clothes_ and _cloths?_ What sound has _a_ in _any_? +How do you remember that _i_ follows _e_ in _their?_ What rule applies +in the formation of _dying_? Point out two words or more in the above +in which we have a silent _a_ following two consonants to indicate a +preceding long vowel. Give cases of a digraph followed by a silent _e_. +(Note. Add silent _e_ to _past_ and make _paste_―long _a_.) Is the _i_ +in _evil_ sounded? There were no _bears_ upon this island. Mention +another kind of _bear_. Observe the difference between _hardware_—— +iron goods——and _hard wear,_ meaning tough usage. What is peculiar about +_soul? impossible? ecstasies? wrapped? deliverance? sign? except? shoes? +hunger? thrown? terror? island?_ + + V. + +9. I decided to climb into a tree and sit there until the next day, +to think what death I should die. As night came on my heart was heavy, +since at night beasts come abroad for their prey. Having cut a short +stick for my defense, I took up my lodging on a bough, and fell fast +asleep. I afterward found I had no reason to fear wild beasts, +for never did I meet any harmful animal. + +10. When I awoke it was broad day, the weather was clear and I saw +the ship driven almost to the rock where I had been so bruised. +The ship seeming to stand upright still, I wished myself aboard, +that I might save some necessary things for my use. + +(Crusoe shows his good judgment in thinking at once of saving something +from the ship for his after use. While others would have been bemoaning +their fate, he took from the vessel what he knew would prove useful, +and in his very labors he at last found happiness. Not only while his +home-building was new, but even years after, we find him still hard at +work and still inventing new things.) + +Questions and Notes. There are two _l_'s in _till_; why not in _until?_ + +What other words ending in two _l_'s drop one _l_ in compounds? +What two sounds do you find given to _oa_ in the preceding paragraphs? +What is peculiar about _climb? death? dies? night? heart? heavy? since? +beasts? prey? defense? lodging? bough? never? harmful? weather? driven? +bruised? necessary? judgment? others? happiness? build?_ + +Use the following words in appropriate sentences: _clime, dye, pray, +bow, write, would_. What two pronunciations may _bow_ have, and what +is the difference in meaning? What two sounds may _s_ have in _use,_ +and what difference do they mark? + +What two rules are violated in _judgment?_ What other words are similar +exceptions? + + VI. + +11. As I found the water very calm and the ship but a quarter of a mile +out, I made up my mind to swim out and get on board her. I at once +proceeded to the task. My first work was to search out the provisions, +since I was very well disposed to eat. I went to the bread-room and +filled my pockets with biscuit. I saw that I wanted nothing but a boat +to supply myself with many things which would be necessary to me, +and I glanced about me to see how I might meet this need. + +12. I found two or three large spars and a spare mast or two, +which I threw overboard, tying every one with a rope that it might +not drift away. Climbing down the ship's side, I pulled them toward +me and tied four of them fast together in the form of a raft, +laying two or three pieces of plank upon them crosswise. + +13. I now had a raft strong enough to bear any reasonable weight. +My next care was to load it. I got three of the seamen's chests, +which I managed to break open and empty. These I filled with bread, +rice, five pieces of dried goat's flesh, and a little remainder of +European grain. There had been some barley and wheat together; +but the rats had eaten or spoiled it. + +Questions and Notes. In _calm_ you have a silent _l_; what other words +can you mention with this silent _l_? Note the double _e_ in _proceed_ +and _succeed; precede_ has one _e_ with the silent _e_ at the end. +Note that _u_ is inserted into _biscuit_ simply to make the _c_ hard +before _i_; with this allowance, this word is spelled regularly. +What is the difference between _spar_ and _spare?_ What other word +have we had pronounced like _threw_? Explain _tying_ and _tied_. +Did any change take place when _ed_ was added to _tie_? Note that +_four_ is spelled with _ou_ for the long _o_ sound; _forty_ with a +simple _o_. How is _14_ spelled? How do you remember _ie_ in _piece_? +What sound has _ei_ in _weight_? Mention another word in which _ei_ has +the same sound. What other word is pronounced like _bear_? How do you +spell the word like this which is the name of a kind of animal? In what +three ways do you find the long sound of _a_ represented in the above +paragraphs? Make a list of the words with silent consonants? + + VII. + +14. My next care was for arms. There were two very good fowling-pieces +in the great cabin, and two pistols. And now I thought myself pretty well +freighted, and began to think how I should get to shore, having neither +sail, oar, nor rudder; and the least capful of wind would have overset me. + +15. I made many other journeys to the ship, and took away among other +things two or three bags of nails, two or three iron crows, and a great +roll of sheet lead. This last I had to tear apart and carry away in +pieces, it was so heavy. I had the good luck to find a box of sugar +and a barrel of fine flour. On my twelfth voyage I found two or three +razors with perfect edges, one pair of large scissors, with some ten +or a dozen good knives and forks. In a drawer I found some money. +“Oh, drug!” I exclaimed. “What art thou good for?” + +(To a man alone on a desert island, money certainly has no value. +He can buy nothing, sell nothing; he has no debts to be paid; he earns +his bread by the sweat of his brow, his business is all with himself and +nature, and nature expects no profit, but allows no credit, for a man +must pay in work as he goes along. Crusoe had many schemes; but it took +a great deal of work to carry them out; and the sum of all was steady +work for twenty-five years. In the end we conclude that whatever he +got was dearly bought. We come to know what a thing is worth only by +measuring its value in the work which it takes to get that thing or +to make it, as Crusoe did his chairs, tables, earthenware, etc.) + +Questions and Notes. What is peculiar in these words: _cabin, pistols, +razors, money, value, measuring, bought, barley, capful, roll, successors, +desert, certainly?_ What sound has _ou_ in _journeys?_ Is this sound +for _ou_ common? What rule applies to the plural of _journey?_ How else +may we pronounce _lead?_ What part of speech is it there? What is the +past participle of _lead?_ Is that pronounced like _lead,_ the metal? +How else may _tear_ be pronounced? What does that other word mean? +Find a word in the above paragraphs pronounced like _flower_. What +other word pronounced like _buy? profit? sum? dear? know? ware?_ What +sound has _s_ in _sugar_? Make a list of the different ways in which +long _e_ is represented. What is peculiar about _goes_? Make a list +of the different ways in which long _a_ is represented in the above +paragraphs. What sound has _o_ in _iron_? Is _d_ silent in _edges_? +What sound has _ai_ in _pairs_? What other word pronounced like this? +How do you spell the fruit pronounced like _pair_? How do you spell the +word for the act of taking the skin off any fruit? What sound has _u_ in +_business?_ In what other word has it the same sound? Mention another +word in which _ch_ has the same sound that it has in _schemes_. What other +word in the above has _ai_ with the same sound that it has in _chairs_? + + VIII. + +16. I now proceeded to choose a healthy, convenient, and pleasant spot +for my home. I had chiefly to consider three things: First, air; second, +shelter from the heat; third, safety from wild creatures, whether men +or beasts; fourth, a view of the sea, that if God sent any ship in sight +I might not lose any chance of deliverance. In the course of my search +I found a little plain on the side of a rising hill, with a hollow like +the entrance to a cave. Here I resolved to pitch my tent. + +(He afterward found a broad, grassy prairie on the other side of the +island, where he wished he had made his home. On the slope above grew +grapes, lemons, citrons, melons, and other kinds of fruit.) + +17. Aft er ten or twelve days it came into my thoughts that I should +lose my reckoning for want of pen and ink; but to prevent this I cut +with my knife upon a large post in capital letters the following words: +“I came on shore here on the 30th of September, 1659.” On the sides +of this post I cut every day a notch; and thus I kept my calendar, +or weekly, monthly, and yearly reckoning of time. + +(He afterward found pen, ink, and paper in the ship; but the record on +the post was more lasting than anything he could have written on paper. +However, when he got his pen and ink he wrote out a daily journal, +giving the history of his life almost to the hour and minute. Thus +he tells us that the shocks of earthquake were eight minutes apart, +and that he spent eighteen days widening his cave.) + +18. I made a strong fence of stakes about my tent that no animal could +tear down, and dug a cave in the side of the hill, where I stored my powder +and other valuables. Every day I went out with my gun on this scene of +silent life. I could only listen to the birds, and hear the wind among +the trees. I came out, however, to shoot goats for food. I found that as +I came down from the hills into the valleys, the wild goats did not see me; +but if they caught sight of me, as they did if I went toward them from +below, they would turn tail and run so fast I could capture nothing. + +Questions and Notes. Are all words in _-ceed_ spelled with a double +_e_? What two other common words besides _proceed_ have we already +studied? What sound has _ea_ in _healthy?_ in _pleasant?_ in _please?_ +How do you remember that _i_ comes before _e_ in _chief?_ What sound +has _ai_ in _air?_ Do you spell 14 and 40 with _ou_ as you do _fourth?_ +What other word pronounced like _sea?_ Note the three words, _lose, +loose,_ and _loss;_ what is the difference in meaning? Why does +_chance_ end with a silent _e? change?_ What other classes of words +take a silent _e_ where we should not expect it? What other word +pronounced like _course?_ What does it mean? How do you spell the word +for the tool with which a carpenter smooths boards? Mention five other +words with a silent _t_ before _ch_, as in _pitch_. To remember the +order of letters in _prairie,_ notice that there is an _i_ next to +the _r_ on either side. What other letters represent the vowel sound +heard in _grew?_ What two peculiarities in the spelling of _thoughts?_ +Mention another word in which _ou_ has the same sound as in _thought_. +How is this sound regularly represented? What other word pronounced +like _capital?_ (Answer. _Capitol_. The chief government building +is called the _capitol;_ the city in which the seat of government is +located is called the _capital,_ just as the large letters are called +_capitals_.) What sound has _ui_ in _fruit?_ What other two sounds +have we had for _ui_? Would you expect a double consonant in _melons_ +and _lemons,_ or are these words spelled regularly? What is peculiar +about the spelling of _calendar?_ What other word like it, and what +does it mean? What other word spelled like _minute,_ but pronounced +differently? What sound has _u_ in this word? What other word +pronounced like _scene?_ Is _t_ silent in _listen?_ in often? Why is +_y_ not changed to _i_ or _ie_ in _valleys?_ What other plural is made +in the same way? Write sentences in which the following words shall be +correctly used: _are, forth,_ see (two meanings), _cent, cite, coarse, +rate, ate, tare, seen, here, site, tale_. In what two ways may _wind_ +be pronounced, and what is the difference in meaning? + + IX. + +19. I soon found that I lacked needles, pins, and thread, and +especially linen. Yet I made clothes and sewed up the seams with +tough stripe of goatskin. I afterward got handkerchiefs and shirts +from another wreck. However, for want of tools my work went on heavily; +yet I managed to make a chair, a table, and several large shelves. +For a long time I was in want of a wagon or carriage of some kind. +At last I hewed out a wheel of wood and made a wheelbarrow. + +20. I worked as steadily as I could for the rain, for this was the +rainy season. I may say I was always busy. I raised a turf wall close +outside my double fence, and felt sure if any people came on shore they +would not see anything like a dwelling. I also made my rounds in the +woods every day. As I have already said, I found plenty of wild goats. +I also found a kind of wild pigeon, which builds, not as wood pigeons do, +in trees, but in holes of the rocks. The young ones were very good meat. + +Questions and Notes. What sound has _ea_ in _thread?_ What is +peculiar in the spelling of _liven?_ What is peculiar in the spelling +of _handkerchiefs?_ wrecks? What rule applied to the formation of the +word _heavily?_ What sound has _ai_ in _chair?_ Is the _i_ or the _a_ +silent in _carriage?_ (Look this up in the dictionary.) What sound has +_u_ in busy? What other word with the same sound for _u_? Is there any +word besides _people_ in which _eo_ has the sound of _e_ long? In what +other compounds besides _also_ does _all_ drop one _l_? What sound has +_ai_ in _said?_ Does it have this sound in any other word? What sound +has _eo_ in _pigeon? ui_ in _builds?_ What other word pronounced like +_hole?_ How do you remember _ei_ in _their?_ + +Use the following words in appropriate sentences: _so, seem, hew, rein, +meet_. What differences do you find in the principles of formation of +_second, wreck, lock, reckon?_ In what different ways is the sound of +long _a_ represented in paragraphs 19 and 20? What is peculiar in +_tough? especially? handkerchiefs? season? raised? double? fence? +already? pigeon? ones? very? were?_ + + X. + +21. I found that the seasons of the year might generally be divided, +not into summer and winter, as in Europe, but into the rainy seasons and +the dry seasons, which were generally thus: From the middle of February to +the middle of April (including March), rainy; the sun being then on or near +the equinox. From the middle of April to the middle of August (including +May, June, and July), dry; the sun being then north of the equator. From +the middle of August till the middle of October (including September), +rainy; the sun being then come back to the equator. From the middle of +October till the middle of February (including November, December, and +January), dry; the sun being then to the south of the equator. + +22. I have already made mention of some grain that had been spoiled +by the rats. Seeing nothing but husks and dust in the bag which had +contained this, I shook it out one day under the rock on one side of my +cave. It was just before the rainy season began. About a month later +I was surprised to see ten or twelve ears of English barley that had +sprung up and several stalks of rice. You may be sure I saved the seed, +hoping that in time I might have enough grain to supply me with bread. +It was not until the fourth season that I could allow myself the least +particle to eat, and none of it was ever wasted. From this handful, +I had in time all the rice and barley I needed for food,―above forty +bushels of each in a year, as I might guess, for I had no measure. + +23. I may mention that I took from the ship two cats; and the ship's +dog which I found there was so overjoyed to see me that he swam ashore +with me. These were much comfort to me. But one of the cats disappeared +and I thought she was dead. I heard no more of her till she came home +with three kittens. In the end I was so overrun with cats that I had +to shoot some, when most of the remainder disappeared in the woods and +did not trouble me any more. + +Questions and Notes. Why is _g_ soft in _generally?_ How do you +pronounce _February?_ What sound ha{ve the _}s{_'}s in _surprised?_ +Mention three or four other words ending in the sound of _ize_ which +are spelled with an _s_. What sound has _ou_ in _enough?_ What other +words have _gh_ with the sound of _f_? We have here the spelling of +waste——meaning carelessly to destroy or allow to be destroyed; what is +the spelling of the word which means the middle of the body? Is _ful_ +always written with one _l_ in derivatives, as in _handful_ above? +Mention some other words in which _ce_ has the sound of _c_ as in _rice_. +How do you spell _14_? like forty? Why is _u_ placed before _e_ in +_guess?_ Is it part of a digraph with _e_? What sound has _ea_ in +_measure?_ What sound has it in this word? What other word pronounced +like _heard?_ Which is spelled regularly? How many _l_'s has _till_ +in compounds? Mention an example. + +Use the following words in sentences: _herd, write, butt, reign, won, +bred, waist, kneaded, sum_. What is peculiar about _year? divided? +equator? December? grain? nothing? contain? barley? until? each? there? +thought? some? disappeared? trouble?_ + + XI. + +24. One day in June I found myself very ill. I had a cold fit and +then a hot one, with faint sweats after it. My body ached all over, +and I had violent pains in my head. The next day I felt much better, +but had dreadful fears of sickness, since I remembered that I was alone, +and had no medicines, and not even any food or drink in the house. +The following day I had a terrible headache with my chills and fever; +but the day after that I was better again, and went out with my gun +and shot a she-goat; yet I found myself very weak. After some days, +in which I learned to pray to God for the first time after eight years +of wicked seafaring life, I made a sort of medicine _by_ steeping +tobacco leaf in rum. I took a large dose of this several times a day. +In the course of a week or two I got well; but for some time after I +was very pale, and my muscles were weak and flabby. + +25. After I had discovered the various kinds of fruit which grew on +the other side of the island, especially the grapes which I dried for +raisins, my meals were as follows: I ate a bunch of raisins for my +breakfast; for dinner a piece of goat's flesh or of turtle broiled; +and two or three turtle's eggs for supper. As yet I had nothing in +which I could boil or stew anything. When my grain was grown I had +nothing with which to mow or reap it, nothing with which to thresh +it or separate it from the chaff, no mill to grind it, no sieve to +clean it, no yeast or salt to make it into bread, and no oven in +which to bake it. I did not even have a water-pail. Yet all these +things I did without. In time I contrived earthen vessels which were +very useful, though rather rough and coarse; and I built a hearth which +I made to answer for an oven. + +Questions and Notes. What is peculiar about _body?_ What sound has +_ch_ in _ached?_ Note that there are t{w}o _i_'s in _medicine_. What +is peculiar about _house?_ What other word pronounced like _weak?_ +Use it in a sentence. What is the plural of _leaf?_ What are all the +differences between _does_ and _dose?_ Why is _week_ in the phrase +“In the course of a week or two” spelled with double _e_ instead of +_ea?_ What is irregular about the word _muscles?_ Is _c_ soft before +_l_? Is it silent in _muscles?_ What three different sounds may _ui_ +have? Besides _fruit,_ what other words with _ui_? What sound has +_ea_ in _breakfast?_ What two pronunciations has the word _mow?_ +What difference in meaning? What sound has _e_ in _thresh?_ How do +you remember the _a_ in _separate?_ What sound has _ie_ in _sieve?_ +Do you know any other word in which _ie_ has this sound? What other +sound does it often have? Does _ea_ have the same sound in _earthen_ +and _hearth?_ Is _w_ sounded in _answer?_ What sound has _o_ in _oven?_ +Use the following words in sentences: _week, pole, fruit, pane, weak, +course, bred, pail, ruff_. + + XII. + +26. You would have smiled to see me sit down to dinner with my family. +There was my parrot, which I had taught to speak. My dog was grown very +old and crazy; but he sat at my right hand. Then there were my two +cats, one on one side of the table and one on the other. Besides these, +I had a tame kid or two always about the house, and several sea-fowls +whose wings I had clipped. These were my subjects. In their society +I felt myself a king. I was lord of all the land about, as far as my +eye could reach. I had a broad and wealthy domain. Here I reigned sole +master for twenty-five years. Only once did I try to leave my island in +a boat; and then I came near being carried out into the ocean forever by +an ocean current I had not noticed before. + +27. When I had been on the island twenty-three years I was greatly +frightened to see a footprint in the sand. For two years after I saw +no human being; but then a large company of savages appeared in canoes. +When they had landed they built a fire and danced about it. Presently +they seemed about to make a feast on two captives they had brought with +them. By chance, however, one of them escaped. Two of the band followed +him; but he was a swifter runner than they. Now, I thought, is my chance +to get a servant. So I ran down the hill, and with the butt of my musket +knocked down one of the two pursuers. When I saw the other about to draw +his bow. I was obliged to shoot him. The man I had saved seemed at first +as frightened at me as were his pursuers. But I beckoned him to come to +me and gave him all the signs of encouragement I could think of. + +28. He was a handsome fellow, with straight, strong limbs. He had a +very good countenance, not a fierce and surly appearance. His hair was +long and black, not curled like wool; his forehead was very high and large; +and the color of his skin was not quite black, but tawny. His face was +round and plump; his nose small, not flat like that of negroes; and he had +fine teeth, well set, and as white as ivory. + +29. Never man had a more faithful, loving, sincere servant than Friday +was to me (for so I called him from the day on which I had saved his +life). I was greatly delighted with him and made it my business to teach +him everything that was proper to make him useful, handy, and helpful. +He was the aptest scholar that ever was, and so merry, and so pleased when +he could but understand me, that it was very pleasant to me to talk to him. +Now my life began to be so easy, that I said to myself, that could I but +feel safe from more savages, I cared not if I were never to remove from the +place where I lived. + +(Friday was more like a son than a servant to Crusoe. Here was one +being who could under-stand human speech, who could learn the difference +between right and wrong, who could be neighbor, friend, and companion. +Crusoe had often read from his Bible; but now he might teach this +heathen also to read from it the truth of life. Friday proved a good +boy, and never got into mischief.) + +Questions and Notes. What is the singular of _canoes?_ What is the +meaning of _butt?_ How do you spell the word pronounced like this which +means a hogshead? In what two ways is _bow_ pronounced? What is the +difference in meaning? What other word pronounced like _bow_ when it +means the front end of a boat? _Encouragement_ has an _e_ after the +_g_; do you know two words ending in _ment_ preceəded by the soft +_g_ sound which omit the silent _e_? Make a list of all the words +you know which, like _fierce,_ have _ie_ with the sound of _a_ long. +How do you pronounce _forehead?_ Mention two peculiarities in the +spelling of _color_. Compare it with _collar_. What is the singular +of _negroes?_ What other words take _es_ in the plural? What is the +plural of _tobacco?_ Compare _speak,_ with its _ea_ for the sound of +_e_ long, and _speech,_ with its double _e_. What two peculiarities in +_neighbor?_ What sound has _ie_ in _friend?_ In the last paragraph +above, how do you pronounce the first word _read?_ How the second? +What other word pronounced like _read_ with _ea_ like short _a_? +Compare to _lead, led,_ and the metal _lead_. How do you pronounce +_mischief?_ Use the following words in sentences: _foul, reign, sole, +strait, currant_. What is peculiar in these words: _parrot? taught? +always? reach? only? leave? island? carried? ocean? notice? built? +dance? brought? get? runner? butt? knock?_ + +Derivation of words. + +It is always difficult to do two things at the same time, and for that +reason no reference has been made in the preceding exercises to the +rules for prefixes and suffixes, and in general to the derivation of words. +This should be taken up as a separate study, until the meaning of every +prefix and suffix is clear in the mind in connection with each word. +This study, however, may very well be postponed till the study of grammar +has been taken up. + + +APPENDIX + +VARIOUS SPELLINGS + +Authorized by Different Dictionaries. + +There are not many words which are differently spelled by the various +standard dictionaries. The following is a list of the more common ones. + +The form preferred by each dictionary is indicated by letters in +parantheses as follows: C., Century; S., Standard; I., Webster's +International; W., Worcester; E., English usage as represented by the +Imperial. When the new Oxford differs from the Imperial, it is indicated +by O. Stormonth's English dictionary in many instances prefers Webster's +spellings to those of the Imperial. + +accoutre (C., W., E.) + accouter (S., I.) +aluminium (C., I., W., E.) + aluminum (S.) +analyze (C., S., I., W.) + analyse (E.) +anesthetic (C., S.) + anæsthetic (I., W., E.) +appal (C., S., E.) + appall (I., W.) +asbestos (C., S., W., E.) + asbetus (I.) +ascendancy (C., W.) + ascendancy (S., I., E.) +ax (C., S., I.) + axe (W., E.) +ay [forever] (C., S., O.) + aye ¨ (I., W., E.) +aye [yes] (C., S., I., O.) + ay ¨ (W., E.) +bandana (C., E.) + bandanna (S.,{ }I.,{ }W.,{ }O.) +biased (C., S., I., O.) + biassed (W., E.) +boulder (C., S., W., E.) + bowlder (I.) +Brahman (C., S., I., E.) + Brahmin (W., O.) +braize (C., S.) + braise (I., W., E.) +calif (C., S., E.) + caliph (I., W., O.) +callisthenics (C., S., E.) + calisthenics (I., W.) +cancelation (C., S.) + cancellation (I., W., E.) +clue (C., S., E.) + clew (I., W.) +coolie (C., S., E.) + cooly (I., W.) +courtezan (C., I., E.) + courtesan (I., W., O.) +cozy (C., S., I.) + cosey (W., E.) + cosy (O.) +crozier (C., I., E.) + crosier (I., W., O.) +defense (C., S., I.) + defence (W., E.) + +despatch (C., S., W., E.) + dispatch (I., O.) +diarrhea (C., S., I.) + diarrhœoa (W., E.) +dicky (C., W., O.) + dickey (S., I., E.) +disk (C., S., I., W., O.) + disc (E.) +distil (C., S., W., E.) + distill (I.) +dullness (C., I., O.) + dulness (S., W., E.) +employee (C., S., E.) + employé {[male]}(I., W., O.) +encumbrance (C., S., W., I.) + incumbrance (I.) +enforce——see reinforce +engulf (C., S., W., E.) + ingulf (I.) +enrolment (C., S., W., E.) + enrollment (I.) +enthrall (C., S., E.) + inthrall (I., W.) +equivoke (C., S., W.) + equivoque (I., E.) +escalloped (C., S., O.) + escaloped (I., W., E.) +esthetic (C., S.) + æsthetic (I., W., E.) +feces (C., S.) + fæces (I., W., E.) +fetish (C., S., O.) + fetich (I., W., E.) +fetus (C., S., I., E.) + fœtus (W., O.) +flunky (C., S., I., W.) + flunkey (E.) +fulfil (C., S., W., E.) + fulfill (I.) +fullness (C., I., O.) + fulness (S., W., E.) +gage [measure] (C., S.) + gauge ¨ (I., W., E{.)} +gaiety (C., S., E.) + gayety (I., W.) +gazel (C., S.) + gazelle (I., W., E.) +guild (I., W., E.) + gild (C., S.) +gipsy (C., S., O.) + gypsy (I., W., E.) +gram (C., S., I.) + gramme (W., E.) +gruesome (C., S., O.) + grewsome (I., W., E.) +harken (C., S.) + hearken (I., W., E.) +hindrance (C., S., I., O.) + hinderance (W., E.) +Hindu (C., S., E.) + Hindoo (I., W.) +Hindustani (C., S., E.) + Hindoostanee (I.) +homeopathic (C., S., I.) + homœopathic (W., E.) +impale (C., I., E.) + empale (S., W.) +incase (C., S., I., E.) + encase (W., O.) +inclose (C., I., E.) + enclose (S., W., O.) +instil (C., S., W., E.) + instill (I.) +jewelry (C., S., I., E.) + jewellery (W., O.) +kumiss (C., S., E.) + koumiss (I., W., O.) +maugre (C., S., W., E.) + mauger (I.) +meager (C., S., I.) + meagre (W., E.) + +medieval (C., S.) + mediæval (I., W., E.) +mold (C., S., I.) + mould (W., E.) +molt (C., S., I.) + moult (W., E) +offense (C., S., I.) + offence (W., E.) +pandoor (C., W., E.) + pandour (S., I.) +papoose (C., S., W., E.) + pappoose (W.) +paralyze (C., S., W., I.) + paralyse (E.) +pasha (C., S., I., E.) + pacha (W.) +peddler (C., I.) + pedler (S., W.) + pedlar (E.) +phenix (C., S., I.) + phœnix (W., E.) +plow (C., S., I.) + plough (W., E.) +pretense (C., S., I.) + pretence (W., E.) +program (C., S.) + programme (I., W., E.) +racoon (C.) + raccoon (S., I., W., E.) +rajah (I., W., E.) + raja (C., S.) +reconnaissance (C., S., E.) + reconnoissance (I., W.) +referable (C., S., I.) + referrible (W., E.) +reinforce (C., E.) + reënforce (S., I., W.) +reverie (C., S., I., E.) + revery (W.) +rhyme (I., W., E.) + rime (C., S.) + +rondeau (W., E.) + rondo (C., S., I.) +shinny (C., S.) + shinty (I., W., E.) +skean (C., S., I., E.) + skain (W.) +skilful (C., S., W., E.) + skillful (I.) +smolder (C., S., I.) + smoulder (W., E.) +spoony (C., S., E.) + spooney (I., W.) +sumac (C., S., I., E.) + sumach (W.) +swingletree (C., S., W.) + singletree (I.) +synonym (C., S., I., E.) + synonyme (W.) +syrup (C., E.) + sirup (S., I., W.) +Tartar (I., W., E.) + Tatar (C., S.) +threnody (C., S., W., E.) + threnode (I.) +tigerish (C., S., I.) + tigrish (W., E.) +timbal (C., S.) + tymbal (I., W., E) +titbit (C., S.) + tidbit (I., W., E.) +vise [tool] (C., S., I.) + vice ¨ (W., E.) +vizier (S., I., W., E.) + vizir (C.) +visor (I., W., E.) + vizor (C., S.) +whippletree (S., I., W., E.) + whiffletree (C.) +whimsy (C., S.) + whimsey (I., W., E.) + +whisky (C., S., I., E.) + whiskey (W.{, Irish}) +wilful (C., S., W., E.) + willful (I.) +woeful (C., I., E.) + woful (S., W.) +worshiped (C., S., I.) + worshipped (W., E.) + +All dictionaries but the Century make _envelop_ the verb, _envelope_ +the noun. The Century spells the noun _envelop_ as well as the verb. + +According to the Century, Worcester, and the English dictionaries, +_practise_ (with _s_) is the verb, _practice_ (with _c_) is the noun. +The Standard spells both _practise,_ and Webster both practice. + +Doubling l. + +Worcester and the English dictionaries double a final _l_ in all cases +when a syllable is added, Webster, the Century, and the Standard only +when the rule requires it. Thus: wool——woollen, Jewel——jewelled, +travel——traveller. + +Re for er. + +The following are the words which Worcester and the English dictionaries +spell _re_, while Webster, the Century, and the Standard prefer _er:_ +Calibre, centre, litre, lustre, manœuvre (I. maneuver), meagre, metre, +mitre, nitre, ochre, ombre, piastre, sabre, sceptre, sepulchre, sombre, +spectre, theatre, zaffre,{.} + +English words with our. + +The following are the words in which the English retain the _u_ in +endings spelled _or_ by American dictionaries. All other words, +such as _author, emperor,_ etc., though formerly spelled with _u,_ +no longer retain it even in England: + +Arbour, ardour, armour, behaviour, candour, clamour, colour, contour, +demeanour, dolour, enamour, endeavour, favour, fervour, flavour, +glamour, harbour, honour, humour, labour, neighbour, odour, parlour, +rancour, rigour, rumour, saviour, splendour, succour, tabour, tambour, +tremour, valour, vapour, vigour,. + + +_____________________________________________________________________ + + +THE ART σƒ WRITING & SPEAKING ךђℓ ENGLISH LANGUAGE + +SHERWIN CODY + +Special S Y S T E M Edition + +COMPOSITION & Rhetoric + +The Old Greek Press +_Chicago New{ }York Boston_ + +_Revised Edition_. + + +_Copyright,1903,_ BY SHERWIN CODY. + +_Note_. The thanks of the author are due to Dr. Edwin H. Lewis, of the +Lewis Institute, Chicago, and to Prof. John F. Genung, Ph. D., of Amherst +College, for suggestions made after reading the proof of this series. + + +CONTENTS. + +INTRODUCTION.——THE METHOD OF THE MASTERS… 7 +СНАРТΕR I. DICTION. +CHAPTER II. FIGURES OF SPEECH. +CHAPTER III. STYLE. +CHAPTER IV. HUMOR.———Addison, Stevenson, Lamb. +CHAPTER V. RIDICULE.———Poe. +CHAPTER VI. THE RHETORICAL, IMPASSIONED AND LOFTY STYLES. + ———Macaulay and De Quincey. +CHAPTER VII. RESERVE.———Thackeray. +CHAPTER VIII. CRITICISM.———Matthew Arnold and Ruskin. +CHAPTER IX. THE STYLE OF FICTION: + NARRATIVE, DESCRIPTION, AND DIALOGUE.————Dickens. +CHAPTER X. THE EPIGRAMMATIC STYLE.————Stephen Crane. +CHAPTER XI. THE POWER OF SIMPLICITY.————The Bible, Franklin, Lincoln. +CHAPTER XII. HARMONY OF STYLE.————Irving and Hawthorne. +CHAPTER XIII. IMAGINATION AND REALITY.————THE AUDIENCE. +CHAPTER XIV. THE USE OF MODELS IN WRITING FICTION. +CHAPTER XV. CONTRAST. + APPENDIX + + +COMPOSITION + +INTRODUCTION. + +THE METHOD OF THE MASTERS + +For Learning to Write and Speak Masterly English. + +The first textbook on rhetoric which still remains to us was written +by Aristotle. He defines rhetoric as the art of writing effectively, +viewing it primarily as the art of persuasion in public speaking, +but making it include all the devices for convincing or moving the +mind of the hearer or reader. + +Aristotle's treatise is profound and scholarly, and every textbook of +rhetoric since written is little more than a restatement of some part +of his comprehensive work. It is a scientific analysis of the subject, +prepared for critics and men of a highly cultured and investigating turn +of mind, and was not originally intended to instruct ordinary persons +in the management of words and sentences for practical purposes. + +While no one doubts that an ordinary command of words may be learned, +there is an almost universal impression in the public mind, and has been +even from the time of Aristotle himself, that writing well or ill is +almost purely a matter of talent, genius, or, let us say, instinct. +It has been truly observed that the formal study of rhetoric never has +made a single successful writer, and a great many writers have succeeded +preëminently without ever having opened a rhetorical textbook. It has +not been difficult, therefore, to come to the conclusion that writing +well or ill comes by nature alone, and that all we can do is to pray for +luck,―or, at the most, to practise incessantly. Write, write, write; +and keep on writing; and destroy what you write and write again; cover +a ton of paper with ink; some day perhaps you will succeed―says the +literary adviser to the young author. And to the business man who +has letters to write and wishes to write them well, no one ever says +anything. The business man himself has begun to have a vague impression +that he would like to improve his command of language; but who is there +who even pretends to have any power to help him? There is the school +grind of “grammar and composition,” and if it is kept up for enough +years, and the student happens to find any point of interest in it, some +good may result from it. That is the best that anyone has to offer. + +Some thoughtful people are convinced that writing, even business +letters, is as much a matter for professional training as music +or painting or carpentry or plumbing. That view certainly seems +reasonable. And against that is the conviction of the general public +that use of language is an art essentially different from any of the +other arts, that all people possess it more or less, and that the +degree to which they possess it depends on their general education +and environment; while the few who possess it in a preëminent degree, +do so by reason of peculiar endowments and talent, not to say genius. +This latter view, too, is full of truth. We have only to reflect +a moment to see that rhetoric as it is commonly taught can by no +possibility give actual skill. Rhetoric is a system of scientific +analysis. Aristotle was a scientist, not an artist. Analysis tears +to pieces, divides into parts, and so destroys. The practical art of +writing is wholly synthesis,―building up, putting together, creating, +―and so, of course, a matter of instinct. All the dissection, or +vivisection, in the world, would never teach a man how to bring a human +being into the world, or any other living thing; yet the untaught instinct +of all animals solves the problem of creation every minute of the world's +history. In fact, it is a favorite comparison to speak of poems, stories, +and other works of literary art as being the children of the writer's +brain; as if works of literary art came about in precisely the same simple, +yet mysterious, way that children are conceived and brought into the world. + +Yet the comparison must not be pushed too far, and we must not lose +sight of the facts in the case. You and I were not especially endowed +with literary talent. Perhaps we are business men and are glad we +are not so endowed. But we want to write and speak better than we do, +―if possible, better than those with whom we have to compete. Now, +is there not a practical way in which we can help ourselves? There +is no thought that we shall become geniuses, or anything of the kind. +For us, why should there be any difference between plumbing and +writing? If all men were born plumbers, still some would be much +better than others, and no doubt the poor ones could improve their +work in a great measure, simply by getting hints and trying. However, +we all know that the trying will not do _very_ much good without the +hints. Now, where are the master-plumber's hints―or rather, the +master-writer's hints, for the apprentice writer? + +No doubt some half million unsuccessful authors will jump to their feet +on the instant and offer their services. But the business man is not +convinced of their ability to help him. Nor does he expect very much +real help from the hundred thousand school teachers who teach “grammar +and composition” in the schools. The fact is, the rank and file of +teachers in the common schools have learned just enough to know that +they want help themselves. Probably there is not a more eager class +in existence than they. + +The stock advice of successful authors is, Practise. But unluckily +I have practised, and it does not seem, to do any good. “I write one +hundred long letters (or rather dictate them to my stenographer) every +day,” says the business man. “My newspaper reports would fill a hundred +splendid folios,” says the newspaper man, “and yet―and yet―I can't +seem to hit it when I write a novel.” No, practice without guidance will +not do very much, especially if we happen to be of the huge class of the +uninspired. Our lack of genius, however, does not seem to be a reason +why we should continue utterly ignorant of the art of making ourselves +felt as well as heard when we use words. Here again use of language +differs somewhat from painting or music, for unless we had some talent +there would be no reason for attempting those arts. + +Let us attack our problem from a common-sense point of view. How have +greater writers learned to write? How do plumbers learn plumbing? + +The process by which plumbers learn is simple. They watch the +master-plumber, and then try to do likewise, and they keep at this for +two or three years. At the end they are themselves master-plumbers, +or at least masters of plumbing. + +The method by which great writers, especially great writers who didn't +start with a peculiar genius, have learned to write is much the same. +Take Stevenson, for instance: he says he “played the sedulous ape.” +He studied the masterpieces of literature, and tried to imitate them. +He kept at this for several years. At the end he was a master himself. +We have reason to believe that the same was true of Thackeray, of Dumas, +of Cooper, of Balzac, of Lowell. All these men owe their skill very +largely to practice in imitation of other great writers, and often of +writers not as great as they themselves. Moreover, no one will accuse +any of these writers of not being original in the highest degree. +To imitate a dozen or fifty great writers never makes imitators; the +imitator, so called, is the person who imitates one. To imitate even +two destroys all the bad effects of imitation. + +Franklin, himself a great writer, well describes the method in his +autobiography: + +How Franklin Learned to Write. + +“A question was once, somehow or other, started between Collins and me, +of the propriety of educating the female sex in learning, and their +abilities for study. He was of the opinion that it was improper, +and that they were naturally unequal to it. I took the contrary side, +perhaps a little for dispute's sake. He was naturally more eloquent, +having a ready plenty of words, and sometimes, as I thought, I was +vanquished more by his fluency than by the strength of his reasons. +As we parted without settling the point, and were not to see one another +again for some time, I sat down to put my arguments in writing, which +I copied fair and sent to him. He answered, and I replied. Three or +four letters on a side had passed, when my father happened to find my +papers and read them. Without entering into the subject in dispute, +he took occasion to talk to me about the manner of my writing; observed +that, though I had the advantage of my antagonist in correct spelling +and pointing (which I owed to the printing-house), I fell far short +in elegance of expression, in method, and in perspicuity, of which he +convinced me by several instances. I saw the justice of his remarks, +and thence grew more attentive to the manner in writing, and determined +to endeavor an improvement. + +“About this time I met with an odd volume of the _Spectator_. +It was the third. I had never before seen any of them. I bought it, +read it over and over, and was much delighted with it. I thought the +writing excellent, and wished it possible to imitate it. With this view +I took some of the papers, and making short hints of the sentiments in +each sentence, laid them by a few days, and then, without looking at +the book, tried to complete the papers again, by expressing each hinted +sentiment at length, and as fully as it had been expressed before, +in any suitable words that should come to hand. Then I compared my +_Spectator_ with the original, discovered some of my faults, and +corrected them. But I found I wanted a stock of words, or a readiness +in recollecting and using them, which I thought I should have acquired +before that time if I had gone on making verses, since the continued +search for words of the same import, but of different length to suit the +measure, or of different sound for the rhyme, would have laid me under +a constant necessity of searching for variety, and also have tended to +fix that variety in mind, and make me master of it. Therefore I took +some of the tales and turned them into verse; and, after a time, +when I had pretty well forgotten the prose, turned them back again. + +“I also sometimes jumbled my collection of hints into confusion, and +after some weeks endeavored to reduce them into the best order before +I began to form the full sentences and complete the subject. This was +to teach me method in the arrangement of the thoughts. By comparing my +work with the original, I discovered my faults and amended them; but I +sometimes had the pleasure of fancying, that, in certain particulars of +small import, I had been fortunate enough to improve the method or the +language, and this encouraged me to think that I might possibly in time +come to be a tolerable English writer; of which I was extremely ambitious. +My time for these exercises and for reading was at night, after work, or +before it began in the morning, or on Sundays, when I contrived to be in +the printing-house alone, evading as much as I could the common attendance +on public worship which my father used to exact of me when I was under +his care, and which indeed I still continued to consider a duty, though +I could not, as it seemed to me, afford time to practise it.” + + +A Practical Method. + +Aristotle's method, though perfect in theory, has failed in practice. +Franklin's method is too elementary and undeveloped to be of general +use. Taking Aristotle's method (represented by our standard textbooks +on rhetoric) as our guide, let us develop Franklin's method into a +system as varied and complete as Aristotle's. We shall then have a +method at the same time practical and scholarly. + +We have studied the art of writing words correctly (spelling) and +writing sentences correctly (grammar).* Now we wish to learn to write +sentences, paragraphs, and entire compositions _effectively_. + + *See the earlier volume$ in this series. + +First, we must form the habit of observing the meanings and values +of words, the structure of sentences, of paragraphs, and of entire +compositions as we read standard literature―just as we have been +trying to form the habit of observing the spelling of words, and +the logical relationships of words in sentences. In order that we +may know what to look for in our observation we must analyse a _little,_ +but we will not imagine that we shall learn to do a thing by endless +talk about doing it. + +Second, we will practise in the imitation of selections from master +writers, in every case fixing our attention on the rhetorical element +each particular writer best illustrates. This imitation will be +continued until we have mastered the subject toward which we are +especially directing our attention, and all the subjects which go to +the making of an accomplished writer. + +Third, we will finally make independent compositions for ourselves with +a view to studying and expressing the stock of ideas which we have to +express. This will involve a study of the people on whom we wish to +impress our ideas, and require that we constantly test the results of +our work to see what the actual effect on the mind of our audience is. + +Let us now begin our work. + + +CHAPTER I. + +DICTION. + +“Diction” is derived from the Latin _dictio,_ a word, and in rhetoric +it denotes choice of words. In the study of grammar we have learned +that all words have logical relationships in sentences, and in some +cases certain forms to agree with particular relationships. We have +also taken note of “idioms,” in which words are used with peculiar values. + +On the subject of Idiom Arlo Bates in his book “On Writing English” has +some very forcible remarks. Says he, “An idiom is the personal―if +the word may be allowed―the personal idiosyncrasy of a language. +It is a method of speech wherein the genius of the race making the +language shows itself as differing from that of all other peoples. +What style is to the man, that is idiom to the race. It is the +crystalization in verbal forms of peculiarities of race temperament― +perhaps even of race eccentricities …… English which is not idiomatic +becomes at once formal and lifeless, as if the tongue were already dead +and its remains embalmed in those honorable sepulchres, the philological +dictionaries. On the other hand, English which goes too far, and fails +of a delicate distinction between what is really and essentially idiomatic +and what is colloquial, becomes at once vulgar and utterly wanting in that +subtle quality of dignity for which there is no better term than +_distinction_.”* + + *As examples of idioms Mr. Bates gives the following: A ten-foot +(instead of ten-feet) pole; the use of the “flat adverb” or adjective +form in such expressions as “speak loud.” “walk fast,” “the sun shines +hot,” “drink deep;” and the use of prepositions adverbially at the end +of a sentence, as in “Where are you going to?” “The subject which I spoke +to you about,” etc. + +We therefore see that idiom is not only a thing to justify, +but something to strive for with all our might. The use of it gives +character to our selection of words, and better than anything else +illustrates what we should be looking for in forming our habit of +observing the meanings and uses of words as we read. + +Another thing we ought to note in our study of words is the _suggestion_ +which many words carry with them in addition to their obvious meaning. +For instance, consider what a world of ideas the mere name of Lincoln +or Washington or Franklin or Napoleon or Christ calls up. On their +face they are but names of men, or possibly sometimes of places; but we +cannot utter the name of Lincoln without thinking of the whole terrible +struggle of our Civil War; the name of Washington, without thinking +of nobility, patriotism, and self-sacrifice in a pure and great man; +Napoleon, without thinking of ambition and blood; of Christ, without +lifting our eyes to the sky in an attitude of worship and thanksgiving +to God. So common words carry with them a world of suggested thought. +The word _drunk_ calls up a picture horrid and disgusting; _violet_ +suggests blueness, sweetness, and innocence; _oak_ suggests sturdy +courage and strength; _love_ suggests all that is dear in the histories +of our own lives. Just what will be suggested depends largely on the +person who hears the word, and in thinking of suggestion we must reflect +also on the minds of the persons to whom we speak. + +The best practical exercise for the enlargement of one's vocabulary is +translating, or writing verses. Franklin commends verse-writing, but +it is hardly mechanical enough to be of value in all cases. At the same +time, many people are not in a position to translate from a foreign +language; and even if they were, the danger of acquiring foreign idioms +and strange uses of words is so great as to offset the positive gain. +But we can easily exercise ourselves in translating one kind of English +into another, as poetry into prose, or an antique style into modern. +To do this the constant use of the English dictionary will be necessary, +and incidentally we shall learn a great deal about words. + +As an example of this method of study, we subjoin a series of notes on +the passage quoted from Franklin in the last chapter. In our study we +constantly ask ourselves, “Does this use of the word sound perfectly +natural?” At every point we appeal to our _instinct,_ and in time come +to trust it to a very great extent. We even train it. To train our +instinct for words is the first great object of our study. + + +Notes on Franklin. +(See “How Franklin Learned to Write” in preceding chapter.) + +1. “The female sex” includes animals as well as human beings, +and in modern times we say simply “women,” though when Franklin wrote +“the female sex” was considered an elegant phrase. + +2. Note that “their” refers to the collective noun “sex.” + +3. If we confine the possessive case to persons we would not say +“for dispute's sake,” and indeed “for the sake of dispute” +is just as good, if not better, in other respects. + +4. “Ready plenty” is antique usage for “ready abundance.” Which is +the stronger? + +5. “Reasons” in the phrase “strength of his reasons” is a simple and +forcible substitute for “arguments.” + +6. “Copied fair” shows an idiomatic use of an adjective form which +perhaps can be justified, but the combination has given way in these +days to “made a fair copy of.” + +7. Observe that Franklin uses “pointing” for _punctuation,_ and +“printing-house” for _printing-office_. + +8. The old idiom “endeavor at improvement” has been changed to +_endeavor to improve,_ or _endeavor to make improvement_. + +9. Note how the use of the word _sentiment_ has changed. We would be +more likely to say _ideas_ in a connection like this. + +10. For “laid them by,” say _laid them away_. + +11. For “laid me under …… necessity” we might say _compelled me,_ or +_made it necessary that I should_. + +12. “Amended” is not so common now as _corrected_. + +13. For “evading” (attendance at public worship) we should now say +_avoiding_. We “evade” more subtle things than attendance at church. + +There are many other slight differences in the use of words which the +student will observe. It would be an excellent exercise to write out, +not only this passage, but a number of others from the Autobiography, +in the most perfect of simple modern English. + +We may also take a modern writer like Kipling and translate his style +into simple, yet attractive and good prose; and the same process may +be applied to any of the selections in this book, simply trying to find +equivalent and if possible equally good words to express the same ideas, +or slight variations of the same ideas. Robinson Crusoe, Bacon's +Essays, and Pilgrim's Progress are excellent books to translate into +modern prose. The chief thing is to do the work slowly and thoughtfully. + + +CHAPTER II. + +FIGURES OF SPEECH. + +It is not an easy thing to pass from the logical precision of grammar +to the vague suggestiveness of words that call up whole troops of ideas +not contained in the simple idea for which a word stands. Specific idioms +are themselves at variance with grammar and logic, and the grammarians +are forever fighting them; but when we go into the vague realm of poetic +style, the logical mind is lost at once. And yet it is more important +to use words pregnant with meaning than to be strictly grammatical. +We must reduce grammar to an instinct that will guard us against being +contradictory or crude in our construction of sentences, and then we +shall make that instinct harmonize with all the other instincts which +a successful writer must have. When grammar is treated (as we have +tried to treat it) as “logical instinct,” then there can be no conflict +with other instincts. + +The suggestiveness of words finds its specific embodiment in the so +called “figures of speech.” We must examine them a little, because +when we come to such an expression as “The kettle boils” after +a few lessons in tracing logical connections, we are likely to +say without hesitation that we have found an error, an absurdity. +On its face it is an absurdity to say “The kettle boils” when we mean +“The water in the kettle boils.” But reflection will show us that we +have merely condensed our words a little. Many idioms are curious +condensations, and many figures of speech may be explained as natural +and easy condensations. We have already seen such a condensation in +“more complete” for “more nearly complete.” + +The following definitions and illustrations are for reference. We +do not need to know the names of any of these figures in order to use +them, and it is altogether probable that learning to name and analyse +them will to some extent make us too self-conscious to use them at all. +At the same time, they will help us to explain things that otherwise +might puzzle us in our study. + +1. Simile. The simplest figure of speech is the _simile_. It is +nothing more or less than a direct comparison by the use of such +words as _like_ and _as_. + +Examples: Unstable as water, thou shalt not excel. How often would I +have gathered my children together, as a hen doth gather her broodunder +her wings! The Kingdom of God is like a grain of mustard seed, is like +leaven hidden in three measures of meal. Their lives glide on like +rivers that water the woodland. Mercy droppeth as the gentle rain +from heaven upon the place beneath. + +2. Metaphor. A _metaphor_ is an implied or assumed comparison. The +words _like_ and _as_ are no longer used, but the construction of the +sentence is such that the comparison is taken for granted and the thing +to which comparison is made is treated as if it were the thing itself. + +_Examples_: The valiant taste of death but once. Stop my house's ears. +His strong mind reeled under the blow. The compressed passions of a +century exploded in the French Revolution. It was written at a white +heat. He can scarcely keep the wolf from the door. Strike while the +iron is hot. Murray's eloquence never blazed into sudden flashes, +but its clear, placid, and mellow splendor was never overclouded. + +The metaphor is the commonest figure of speech. Our language is a sort +of burying-ground of faded metaphors. Look up in the dictionary the +etymology of such words as _obvious, ruminating, insuperable, dainty, +ponder,_ etc., and you will see that they got their present meanings +through metaphors which have now so faded that we no longer recognize them. + +Sometimes we get into trouble by introducing two comparisons in the same +sentence or paragraph, one of which contradicts the other. Thus should +we say “Pilot us through the wilderness of life” we would introduce two +figures of speech, that of a ship being piloted and that of a caravan in +a wilderness being guided, which would contradict each other. This is +called a “mixed metaphor.” + +3. Allusion. Sometimes a metaphor consists in a reference or +allusion to a well known passage in literature or a fact of history. +_Examples_: Daily, with souls that cringe and plot, we Sinais climb and +know it not. (Reference to Moses on Mt. Sinai). He received the lion's +share of the profits. (Reference to the fable of the lion's share). +Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed by a kiss. (Reference to the +betrayal of Christ by Judas). + +4. Personification. Sometimes the metaphor consists in speaking of +inanimate things or animals as if they were human. This is called the +figure of _personification_. It raises the lower to the dignity of the +higher, and so gives it more importance. + +_Examples_: Earth felt the wound. Next Anger rushed, his eyes on fire. +The moping Owl doth to the Moon complain. True Hope is swift and flies +with swallow's wings. Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, as to be +hated needs but to be seen. Speckled Vanity will sicken soon and die. + +(Note in the next to the last example that the purely impersonal is +raised, not to human level, but to that of the brute creation. Still +the figure is called personification). + +5. Apostrophe. When inanimate things, or the absent, whether +living or dead, are addressed as if they were living and +present, we have a figure of speech called _apostrophe_. +This figure of speech gives animation to the style. _Examples_: +O Rome, Rome, thou hast been a tender nurse to me. Blow, winds, +and crack your cheeks. Take her, O Bridegroom, old and gray! + +6. Antithesis. The preceding figures have been based on likeness. +_Antithesis_ is a figure of speech in which opposites are contrasted, +or one thing is set against another. Contrast is almost as powerful as +comparison in making our ideas clear and vivid. + +_Examples_: (Macaulay, more than any other writer, habitually uses +antitheses). Saul, seeking his father's asses, found himself turned +into a king. Fit the same intellect to a man and it is a bowstring; +to a woman and it is a harp-string. I thought that this man had been a +lord among wits, but I find that he is only a wit among lords. Better to +reign in hell than to serve in heaven. For fools rush in where angels +fear to tread. + +7. Metonymy. Besides the figures of likeness and unlikeness, +there are others of quite a different kind. _Metonymy_ consists in the +substitution for the thing itself of something closely associated with +it, as the sign or symbol for the thing symbolized, the cause for the +effect, the instrument for the user of it, the container for the thing +contained, the material for the thing made of it, etc. + +_Examples_: He is a slave to the _cup_. Strike for your _altars_ and +your _fires_. The _kettle boils,_ He rose and addressed the _chair_. +The _palace_ should not scorn the _cottage_. The watched _pot_ never +boils. The red _coats_ turned and fled. _Iron_ bailed and _lead_ +rained upon the enemy. The _pen_ is mightier than the _sword_. + +8. Synecdoche. There is a special kind of metonymy which is given the +dignity of a separate name. It is the substitution of the part for the +whole or the whole for the part. The value of it consists in putting +forward the thing best known, the thing that will appeal most powerfully +to the thought and feeling. + +_Examples_: Come and trip it as you go, on the light fantastic _toe_. +American commerce is carried in British _bottoms_. He bought a +hundred _head_ of cattle. It is a village of five hundred _chimneys_. +He cried, “A sail, a sail!” The busy _fingers_ toll on. + +Exercise. + +Indicate the figure of speech used in each of the following sentences: + +1. Come, seeling Night, scarf up the tender eye of pitiful Day. + +2. The coat does not make the man. + +3. From two hundred observatories in Europe and America, the glorious +artillery of science nightly assaults the skies. + +4. The lamp is burning. + +5. Blow, blow, thou winter wind, thou art not so unkind as man's +ingratitude. + +6. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff. + +7. Laughter and tears are meant to turn the wheels of the machinery of +sensibility; one is wind power, the other water power. + +8. When you are an anvil, hold you still; when you are a hammer, strike +your fill. + +9. Save the ermine from pollution. + +10. There is a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood, +leads on to fortune; omitted, all the voyage of their lives is bound in +shallows and in miseries. + +Turn each of the above sentences into plain language. Key: (the +numbers in parantheses indicate the figure of speech in the sentences +as numbered above). 1. (4); 2. (7); 3. (2); 4. (7); 5. (5); 6. (1); +7. (2 and 6); 8. (2 and 6); 9. (7); 10. (2). + + +CHAPTER III. + +STYLE. + +There have been many definitions of style; but the disputes of the +rhetoricians do not concern us. _Style,_ as the word is commonly +understood, is the choice and arrangement of words in sentences and of +sentences in paragraphs as that arrangement is effective in expressing +our meaning and convincing our readers or hearers. A _good style_ is +one that is effective, and a _bad style_ is one which fails of doing +what the writer wishes to do. There are as many ways of expressing +ideas as there are ways of combining words (that is, an infinite number), +and as many styles as there are writers. None of us wishes precisely to +get the style of any one else; but we want to form a good one of our own. + +We will briefly note the elements mentioned by those who analyse style, +and then pass on to concrete examples. + +Arrangement of words in a sentence. The first requirement is that the +arrangement of words should be logical, that is grammatical. +The rhetorical requirements are that― + +1. One sentence, with one principal subject and one principal +predicate, should try to express one thought and no more. If we try +to mix two thoughts in the same sentence, we shall come to grief. +Likewise, we shall fail if we attempt to mix two subjects in the +same paragraph or composition. + +2. The words in the sentence should be arranged that those which are +emphatic will come in the emphatic places. The beginning and the end +of a sentence are emphatic positions, the place before any mark of +punctuation is usually emphatic, and any word not in its usual place +with relation to the word it modifies grammatically is especially +emphatic. We must learn the emphatic positions by experience, and +then our instinct will guide us. The whole subject is one of the +relative values of words. + +3. The words in a sentence should follow each other in such a simple, +logical order that one leads on to another, and the whole meaning flows +like a stream of water. The reader should never be compelled to stop +and look back to see how the various ideas “hang together.” This is +the rhetorical side of the logical relationship which grammar requires. +Not only must grammatical rules be obeyed, but logical instinct must be +satisfied with the linking of idea to idea to make a complete thought. +And the same law holds good in linking sentences into paragraphs and +paragraphs into whole compositions. + +These three requirements have been named Unity, Mass, and Coherence. + +The variations in sentences due to emphasis have given rise to a rhetorical +division of sentences into two classes, called loose and periodic. + +A loose sentence is one in which words follow each other in their +natural order, the modifiers of the verb of course following the verb. +Often many of these modifiers are not strictly necessary to complete the +sense and a period may be inserted at some point before the close of the +sentence without destroying its grammatical completeness. The addition +of phrases and clauses not strictly required constitutes _looseness_ +of sentence structure. + +A periodic sentence is one which is not grammatically or logically +complete till the end. If the sentence is somewhat long, the mind is +held in suspense until the last word is uttered. + +_Example_. The following is a loose sentence: “I stood on the bridge +at midnight, as the clocks were striking the hour.” The same sentence +becomes periodic by transposition of the less important predicate +modifiers, thus―“At midnight, as the clocks were striking the hour, +I stood on the bridge.” + +It will be observed that the periodic form is adapted to oratory and +similar forms of eloquent writing in which the mind of the reader or hearer +is keyed up to a high pitch of expectancy; while the loose sentence is the +one common in all simple narrative and unexcited statement. + +Qualities of Style. Writers on rhetoric note three essential qualities +of style, namely _clearness, force,_ and _elegance_. + +Clearness of style is the direct result of clearness and simplicity of +thought. Unless we have mastered our thought in every particular before +trying to express it, confusion is inevitable. At the same time, if we +have mastered our thought perfectly, and yet express it in language not +understood by the persons to whom and for whom we write or speak, our +style will not be clear to them, and we shall have failed in conveying +our thoughts as much as if we had never mastered them. + +Force is required to produce an effect on the mind of the hearer. He +must not only understand what we say, but have some emotion in regard +to it; else he will have forgotten our words before we have fairly +uttered them. Force is the appeal which words make to the feeling, +as clearness is the appeal they make to the understanding. + +Elegance is required only in writing which purports to be good +literature. It is useful but not required in business letters, or in +newspaper writing; but it is absolutely essential to higher literary +art. It is the appeal which the words chosen and the arrangement +selected make to our sense of beauty. That which is not beautiful has +no right to be called “literature,” and a style which does not possess +the subtle elements of beauty is not a strictly “literary” style. + +Most of us by persistent effort can conquer the subject of clearness. +Even the humblest person should not open his mouth or take up his pen +voluntarily unless he can express himself clearly; and if he has any +thought to express that is worth expressing, and wants to express it, +he will sooner or later find a satisfactory way of expressing it. + +The thing that most of us wish to find out is, how to write with force. +Force is attained in various ways, summarized as follows: + +1. By using words which are in themselves expressive. + +2. By placing those words in emphatic positions in the sentence. + +3. By varying the length and form of successive sentences so that the +reader or hearer shall never be wearied by monotony. + +4. By figures of speech, or constant comparison and illustration, +and making words suggest ten times as much as they say. + +5. By keeping persistently at one idea, though from every possible +point of view and without repetition of any kind, till that idea has +sunk into the mind of the hearer and has been fully comprehended. + +Force is destroyed by the―Vice of repetition with slight change or +addition; Vice of monotony in the words, sentences or paragraphs; +Vice of over-literalness and exactness; Vice of trying to emphasize more +than one thing at a time; Vice of using many words with little meaning; +or words barren of suggestiveness and destitute of figures of speech; +and its opposite, the Vice of overloading the style with so many figures +of speech and so much suggestion and variety as to disgust or confuse. +These vices have been named tautology, dryness, and “fine writing.” +Without doubt the simplest narration is the hardest kind of composition +to write, chiefly because we do not realize how hard it is. The first +necessity for a student is to realize the enormous requirements for a +perfect mastery of style. The difficulties will not appear to the one +who tries original composition by way of practice, since there is no +way of “checking up” his work. He may (or may not) be aware that what +he is doing does not produce the effect that the writing of a master +produces; but if he does realize it, he will certainly fail to discover +wherein his own weakness consists. + +The only effective way of making the discovery is that described by +Franklin, and there is no masterpiece of literature better to practise +upon than Ruskin's “The King of the Golden River.” Unlike much +beautiful and powerful writing, it is so simple that a child can +understand it. Complete comprehension of the meaning is absolutely +necessary before any skill in expressing that meaning can be looked for, +and an attempt to imitate that which is not perfectly clear will not +give skill. And with this simplicity there is consummate art. Ruskin +uses nearly all the devices described in the preceding pages. Let us +look at some of these in the first three paragraphs of Ruskin's story: + +In a secluded and mountainous part of Styria, there was, in old time, +a valley of most surprising and luxuriant fertility. It was surrounded +on all sides by steep and rocky mountains rising into peaks which were +always covered with snow and from which a number of torrents descended +in constant cataracts. One of these fell westward, over the face of +a crag so high that, when the sun had set to everything else, and all +below was darkness, his beams still shone full upon this waterfall, +so that it looked like a shower of gold. It was, therefore, called by +the people of the neighborhood the Golden River{.} It was strange that +none of these streams fell into the valley itself. They all descended +on the other side of the mountains, and wound through broad plains and +by populous cities. But the clouds were drawn so constantly to the +snowy hills, and rested so softly in the circular hollow, that, in time +of drought and heat, when all the country round was burnt up, there was +still rain in the little valley; and its crops were so heavy, and its +hay so high, and its apples so red, and its grapes so blue, and its wine +so rich, and its honey so sweet, that it was a marvel to every one who +beheld it, and was commonly called the Treasure Valley. + +The whole of this little valley belonged to three brothers, called +Schwartz, Hans, and Gluck. Schwartz and Hans, the two elder brothers, +were very ugly men, with overwhelming eyebrows and small, dull eyes, +which were always half shut, so that you couldn't see into them, and +always fancied they saw very far into _you_. They lived by farming +the Treasure Valley, and very good farmers they were. They killed +everything that did not pay for its eating. They shot the blackbirds, +because they pecked the fruit; and killed the hedge-hogs, lest they +should suck the cows; they poisoned the crickets for eating the crumbs +in the kitchen; and smothered the cicadas, which used to sing all summer +in the lime-trees. They worked their servants without any wages, till +they could not work any more, and then quarrelled with them and turned +them out of doors without paying them. It would have been very odd, +if, with such a farm, and such a system of farming, they hadn't got +very rich; and very rich they did get. + +They generally contrived to keep their corn by them till it was very +dear, and then sell it for twice its value; they had heaps of gold lying +about on their floors, yet it was never known that they had given so +much as a penny or a crust in charity; they never went to mass; grumbled +perpetually at paying tithes; and were, in a word, of so cruel and +grinding a temper, as to receive from all those with whom they had any +dealings, the nickname of the “Black Brothers.” + +The youngest brother, Gluck, was as completely opposed, in both +appearance and character, to his seniors as could possibly be imagined +or desired. He was not above twelve years old, fair, blue-eyed, and +kind in temper to every living thing. He did not, of course, agree +particularly well with his brothers, or rather they did not agree with +him. He was usually appointed to the honorable office of turnspit, +when there was anything to roast, which was not often; for, to do the +brothers justice, they were hardly less sparing upon themselves than +upon other people. At other times he used to clean the shoes, the floors, +and sometimes the plates, occasionally getting what was left on them, +by way of encouragement, and a wholesome quantity of dry blows, by way +of education. + +The author starts out with a periodic sentence, beginning with a +predicate modifier and placing the subject last. This serves to fix +our attention from the first. The arrangement also throws the emphasis +on “surprising and luxuriant fertility.” The last word is the essential +one in conveying the meaning, though a modifier of the simple subject +noun “valley.” The next sentence is a loose one. After catching the +attention of the reader, we must not burden his mind too much till he +gets interested. We must move along naturally and easily, and this +Ruskin does. The third sentence is periodic again. We are now awake +and able to bear transposition for the sake of emphasis. Ruskin first +emphasizes “so high,” the adjective being placed after its noun, and +then leads the way to the chief emphasis, which comes on the word +“gold,” the last in the sentence. There is also an antithesis between +the darkness below and the light on the peak which is bright enough to +turn the water into gold. This also helps to emphasize “gold.” We +have now had three long sentences and the fourth sentence, which +concludes this portion of the subject, is a short one. “Golden River” +is emphasized by being thrown quite to the end, a little out of its +natural order, which would have been immediately after the verb. The +emphasis on “gold” in the preceding sentence prepared the way for the +emphasis on “Golden River;” and by looking back we see how every word +has been easily, gracefully leading up to this conclusion. + +Ordinarily this would be the end of a paragraph. We may call the first +four sentences a “sub-paragraph.” The capital letters in “Golden River” +mark the division to the eye, and the emphasis marks the division to the +mind. We do not begin with a new paragraph, simply because the subject +that follows is more closely connected with the first four sentences +than with the paragraph which follows. + +Beginning with “It was strange that none of these streams” etc., we have +two rather short, simple, loose sentences, which introduce us in a most +natural manner to the subject to be presented, and prepare the way for a +very long, somewhat complicated sentence, full of antitheses, ending with +the emphatic words “Treasure Valley.” These two words are to this part +of the paragraph what the words “Golden River” were to the first part; +and besides, we see before us the simple, beautiful picture of the Golden +River above the Treasure Valley, presented in words whose power and grace +we cannot fail to appreciate. + +The second paragraph goes forward in the most matter-of-course and +easy way. The first sentence is short, but the second is longer, +with a pleasing variation of long and short phrases, and it ends with +a contrast marked to the eye by the italic words “them” and “you.” +The next two sentences are quite short, and variety is given by the +simple transposition in “and very good farmers they were.” This is +no more than a graceful little twirl to relieve any possible monotony. +The fourth sentence in the paragraph is also very short, purposely made +so for emphasis. It gives in a word what the following long sentence +presents in detail. And observe the constant variation in the form of +this long sentence: in the first clause we have “They shot … because,” +in the second, “and killed … lest” (the subject of killed being implied, +but its place supplied by and), while in the third, the subject of the +verb is again expressed, and then we have the prepositional form “for +eating” instead of the conjunction and verb in a subordinate sentence. +Moreover we have three different verbs meaning the same thing―shot, +killed, poisoned. By the variation Ruskin avoids monotony; yet by the +similarity he gains emphasis. The likeness of the successive clauses +is as important as their difference. There is also in each an implied +contrast, between the severe penalty and the slight offense. By +implication each word gives an added touch to the picture of hardness +and cruelty of the two brothers. Ruskin finds a dozen different ways +of illustrating the important statement he made in the second sentence +(the first sentence being merely introductory). And at the end of +the paragraph we have the whole summed up in a long sentence full +of deliberate rather than implied contrasts, which culminate in the +two words “Black Brothers.” + +It is easy to see that much of the strength of these two paragraphs lies +in the continued and repeated use of contrast. The first paragraph, +with its beautiful description of the “Golden River” and the “Treasure +Valley,” is itself a perfect contrast to the second, with its “Black +Brothers” and all their meanness; and we have already seen that the +second paragraph itself is filled with antitheses. + +In these two paragraphs we have but two simple ideas, that of the place +with all its beauty, and that of the brothers with all their ugliness. +Ruskin might have spoken of them in two sentences, or even in one; but +as a matter of fact, in order to make us think long enough about these +two things, he takes them one at a time and gives us glints, like the +reflections from the different facets of a diamond slowly turned about +in the light. Each is almost like the preceding, yet a little different; +and when we have seen all in succession, we understand each better, and +the whole subject is vividly impressed on our minds. + +In the third paragraph we have still another contrast in the description +of little Gluck. This paragraph is shorter, but the same devices are +used that we found in the preceding. + +In these three paragraphs the following points are well illustrated: + +1. Each paragraph develops one subject, which has a natural relation to +what precedes and what follows; + +2. Each idea is presented in a succession of small details which follow +in easy, logical order one after the other; + +3. There is constant variety and contrast, difference with likeness and +likeness with difference. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +HUMOR: + +Addison, Stevenson, Lamb. + +Mere correctness in sentence structure (grammar) may be purely +scientific; but the art of rhetoric is so wrapped up with human emotion +that the study of human nature counts for infinitely more than the +theory of arrangement, figures of speech, etc., Unless the student has +some idea how the human mind works (his own mind and the minds of his +readers), he will make little or no progress in his study of this +subject. Professional teachers ignore this almost completely, and that +is one reason why they so often fail; and it is also a reason why persons +who do not go to them for training so often succeed: the latter class +finds that knowledge of the human heart makes up for many deficiencies. + +The first important consideration is _good nature_. It is not often +that we can use words to compel; we must win; and it is an old proverb +that “more flies are caught with molasses than with vinegar.” The novice +in writing is always too serious, even to morbidness, too “fierce,” too +arrogant and domineering in his whole thought and feeling. Sometimes +such a person compels attention, but not often. The universal way is +to attract, win over, please. Most of the arts of formal rhetoric are +arts of making language pleasing; but what is the value of knowing the +theory in regard to these devices when the spirit of pleasing is absent? + +We must go at our work gently and good-naturedly, and then there will +be no straining or morbidness or repulsiveness of manner. But all this +finds its consummation in what is called _humor_. + +Humor is a thing that can be cultivated, even learned; and it is one +of the most important things in the whole art of writing. + +We will not attempt to say just what humor is. The effort could bring +no results of value. Suffice it to say that there is implanted in most +of us a sense of the ridiculous―of the incongruous. If a thing is a +little too big or a little too small for the place it is intended to +fill, for some occult reason we regard it as funny. The difference of +a hair seems to tickle us, whereas a great difference does not produce +that kind of effect at all. + +We may secure humor by introducing into our writing the slightest +possible exaggeration which will result in the slightest possible +incongruity. Of course this presupposes that we understand the facts +in a most thorough and delicate way. Our language is not precisely +representative of things as they are, but it proves better than any +other language that we know just what the truth is. + +Humor is the touchstone by which we ought to try ourselves and our work. + +It will prevent our getting very far away from what is normal and natural. + +So much for its effect on ourselves. To our readers it proves that we +are good-natured, honest, and determined to be agreeable. Besides, it +makes an appeal to them on their weakest side. Few people can resist a +joke. There is never any occasion for them to cultivate resistance. So +there is no more certain way by which we can get quickly and inevitably +into their confidence and fellowship. When once we are on good terms +with them they will listen to us while we say anything we may have to say. +Of course we shall often have many serious things to say; but humor will +open the way for us to say them better than any other agency. + +It is to be noted that humor is slighter and more delicate than any other +form of wit, and that it is used by serious and accomplished writers. +It is the element of success in nearly all essay-writing, especially in +letters; and the business man will find it his most powerful weapon in +advertising. Its value is to be seen by uses so various. + +The student is invited to study three examples of humor. The first is +Addison's “Advice in Love.” It is obvious that this subject could not +very well be treated in any other way. It is too delicate for anything +but delicate humor, for humor can handle subjects which would be +impossible for any other kind of language. Besides, the sentiment would +be likely to nauseate us by its excess or its morbidity, except for the +healthy salt of humor. Humor makes this essay instructive and interesting. + +Next we present two letters from Stevenson. Here we see that humor +makes commonplace things interesting. How deadly dull would be the +details Stevenson gives in these letters but for the enlivenment of humor! +By what other method could anything worth reading have been gotten out of +the facts? + +The selection from Charles Lamb is an illustration of how humor may save +the utterly absurd from being unreadable. Lamb had absolutely nothing +to say when he sat down to write this letter; and yet he contrived to be +amusing, if not actually interesting. + +The master of humor can draw upon the riches of his own mind, and +thereby embellish and enliven any subject he may desire to write upon. + +Of these three selections, the easiest to imitate is Addison. First, +we should note the old-fashioned phrasing and choice of words, and +perhaps translate Addison into simple, idiomatic, modern English, +altering as little as possible. We note that the letter offered by +Addison is purposely filled with all the faults of rhetoric which we +never find in his own writing. Addison's humorous imitation of these +faults gives us twice as good a lesson as any possible example of real +faults made by some writer unconsciously. + +In Stevenson's letters we see the value of what has been called “the +magic word.” Nearly the whole of his humor consists in selecting a +word which suggests ten times as much as it expresses on its face. +There is a whole world of fun in this suggestion. Sometimes it is +merely commonplace punning, as when he speaks of the “menial” of +“high Dutch extraction” as yet “only partially extracted;” and again +it is the delicate insinuation contained in spelling “Parc” with a _c,_ +for that one letter gives us an entire foreign atmosphere, and the +disproportion between the smallness of the letter and the extent of +the suggestiveness touches our sense of the ridiculous. + +The form of study of these passages may be slightly altered. Instead +of making notes and rewriting exactly as the original authors wrote, +we should keep the original open before us and try to produce something +slightly different in the same vein. We may suppose the letter on love +written by a man instead of by a woman. Of course its character will +be quite different, though exactly the same characteristics will be +illustrated. This change will require an alteration in almost every +sentence of the essay. Our effort should be to see how little change +in the wording will be required by this one change in subject; though +of course we should always modernize the phrasing. In the case of +Stevenson, we may suppose that we are writing a similar letter to friends, +but from some other city than San Francisco. We may imitate Lamb by +describing our feelings when afflicted by some other ailment than a cold. + + +ADVICE IN LOVE. + +By Joseph Addison. + +It is an old observation, which has been made of politicians who would +rather ingratiate, themselves with their sovereign, than promote his +real service, that they accommodate their counsels to his inclinations, +and advise him to such actions only as his heart is naturally set upon. +The privy-counsellor of one in love must observe the same conduct, +unless he would forfeit the friendship of the person who desires his +advice. I have known several odd cases of this nature. Hipparchus was +going to marry a common woman, but being resolved to do nothing without +the advice of his friend Philander, he consulted him upon the occasion. +Philander told him his mind freely, and represented his mistress to him +in such strong colors, that the next morning he received a challenge for +his pains, and before twelve o'clock was run through the body by the man +who had asked his advice. Celia was more prudent on the like occasion; +she desired Leonilla to give her opinion freely upon a young fellow who +made his addresses to her. Leonilla, to oblige her, told her with great +frankness, that she looked upon him as one of the most worthless― +Celia, foreseeing what a character she was to expect, begged her not to +go on, for that she had been privately married to him above a fortnight. + +The truth of it is a woman seldom asks advice before she has bought her +wedding clothes. When she has made her own choice, for form's sake she +sends a _congé d'élire_ to her friends. + +If we look into the secret springs and motives that set people at work +on these occasions, and put them upon asking advice, which they never +intend to take; I look upon it to be none of the least, that they +are incapable of keeping a secret which is so very pleasing to them. +A girl longs to tell her confidant that she hopes to be married in a +little time, and, in order to talk of the pretty fellow that dwells so +much in her thoughts, asks her gravely, what she would advise her to +in a case of so much difficulty. Why else should Melissa, who had not +a thousand pounds in the world, go into every quarter of the town to +ask her acquaintance whether they would advise her to take Tom Townly, +that made his addresses to her with an estate of five thousand a year? +'Tis very pleasant on this occasion to hear the lady propose her doubts, +and to see the pains she is at to get over them. + +I must not here omit a practice that is in use among the vainer part +of our own sex, who will often ask a friend's advice, in relation to a +fortune whom they are never likely to come at. Will Honeycomb, who is +now on the verge of threescore, took me aside not long since, and ask +me in his most serious look, whether I would advise him to marry my Lady +Betty Single, who, by the way, is one of the greatest fortunes about +town. I stared him full in the face upon so strange a question; upon +which he immediately gave me an inventory of her jewels and estate, +adding, that he was resolved to do nothing in a matter of such +consequence without my approbation. Finding he would have an answer, +I told him, if he could get the lady's consent, he had mine. This is +about the tenth match which, to my knowledge, Will has consulted +his friends upon, without ever opening his mind to the party herself. + +I have been engaged in this subject by the following letter, which comes +to me from some notable young female scribe, who, by the contents of it, +seems to have carried matters so far that she is ripe for asking advice; +but as I would not lose her good-will, nor forfeit the reputation which +I have with her for wisdom, I shall only communicate the letter to the +public, without returning any answer to it. + + “Mr. Spectator, + Now, sir, the thing is this: Mr. Shapely is the prettiest gentleman +about town. He is very tall, but not too tall neither. He dances like +an angel. His mouth is made I do not know how, but it is the prettiest +that I ever saw in my life. He is always laughing, for he has an +infinite deal of wit. If you did but see how he rolls his stockings! +He has a thousand pretty fancies, and I am sure, if you saw him, you +would like him, he is a very good scholar, and can talk Latin as +fast as English. I wish you could but see him dance. Now you must +understand poor Mr. Shapely has no estate; but how can he help that, +you know? And yet my friends are so unreasonable as to be always +teasing me about him, because he has no estate: but I am sure he has +that that is better than an estate; for he is a good-natured, ingenious, +modest, civil, tall, well-bred, handsome man, and I am obliged to him +for his civilities ever since I saw him. I forgot to tell you that he +has black eyes, and looks upon me now and then as if he had tears in +them. And yet my friends are so unreasonable, that they would have me +be uncivil to him. I have a good portion which they cannot hinder me +of, and I shall be fourteen on the 29th day of August next, and am +therefore willing to settle in the world as soon as I can, and so is +Mr. Shapely. But everybody I advise with here is poor Mr. Shapely's +enemy. I desire, therefore, you will give me your advice, for I know +you are a wise man: and if you advise me well, I am resolved to follow +it. I heartily wish you could see him dance, and am, + “Sir, your most humble servant. + B. D.” +“He loves your Spectator mightily.” + +Notes. + +Addison's object in writing this paper is largely serious: he wishes +to criticise and correct manners and morals. He is satirical, but so +good-humored in his satire that no one could be offended. He also +contrives to give the impression that he refers to “the other fellow,” +not to you. This delicacy and tact are as important in the writer as in +the diplomat, for the writer quite as much as the diplomat lives by favor. + +Addison is not a very strict writer, and his works have given examples +for the critics by the score. One of these is seen in “begged her not +to go on, _for-that_ she had been privately married:” “begged” and “for +that” do not go well together. To a modern reader such a phrasing as +“If we look into …… I look upon it to be” etc., seems a little awkward, +if not crude; but we may excuse these seeming discrepancies as “antique +usage,” along with such phrases as “advise her to in a case of such +difficulty” and “to hear the lady _propose_ her doubts, and to see the +pains she is _at_ to get over them.” + +“Fortune whom” is evidently a personification. The use of _party_ in +“to the party herself” is now reckoned an Americanism (!) “Engaged +_in_ this subject” is evidently antiquated. + +We miss in Addison the variety which we found in Ruskin. He does not +seem to understand the art of alternating long and short sentences, +and following one sentence form by another in quick succession. The +fact is, English prose style has made enormous advances since the time +of Addison, and we learn more by comparing him with a writer like Ruskin +than by deliberately imitating him. At the same time his method is +simpler, and since it is so we may find him a good writer to begin our +study with. In spite of any little faults we may find with him, he was +and is a great writer, and we should be sure we can write as _well_ as he +before we reject him. + +LETTERS. + +By Robert Louis Stevenson. + + I. + +My Dear Mother,―I am here at last, sitting in my room, without coat or +waistcoat, and with both window and door open, and yet perspiring like a +terra-cotta jug or a Gruy{è}əre cheese: + +We had a very good passage, which we certainly deserved no compensation +for having to sleep on the cabin floor and finding absolutely nothing +fit for human food in the whole filthy embarkation. We made up for lost +time by sleeping on deck a good part of the forenoon. When I awoke, +Simpson was still sleeping the sleep of the just, on a coil of ropes and +(as appeared afterwards) his own hat; so I got a bottle of Bass and a +pipe and laid hold of an old Frenchman of somewhat filthy aspect (fiat +experimentum in corpora vii) to try my French upon. I made very heavy +weather of it. The Frenchman had a very pretty young wife; but my +French always deserted me entirely when I had to answer her, and so she +soon drew away and left me to her lord, who talked of French politics, +Africa, and domestic economy with great vivacity. From Ostend a smoking +hot journey to Brussels! At Brussels we went off after dinner to the +Pare. If any person wants to be happy, I should advise the Pare. You +sit drinking iced drinks and smoking penny cigars under great old trees. + +The band place, covered walks, etc., are all lit up; and you can't fancy +how beautiful was the contrast of the great masses of lamplit foliage +and the dark sapphire night sky with just one blue star set overhead +in the middle of the largest patch. In the dark walks, too, there +are crowds of people whose faces you cannot see, and here and there a +colossal white statue at the corner of an alley that gives the place a +nice, _artificial,_ eighteenth-century sentiment. There was a good deal +of summer lightning blinking overhead, and the black avenues and white +statues leapt out every minute into short-lived distinctness. + + II. + +My dear Colvin,―Any time between eight and half-past nine in the +morning, a slender gentleman in an ulster, with a volume buttoned into +the breast of it, may be observed leaving No. 608 Bush and descending +Powell with an active step. The gentleman is R. L. S.; the volume +relates to Benjamin Franklin, on whom he meditates one of his charming +essays. He descends Powell, crosses Market, and descends in Sixth on +a branch of the original Pine Street Coffee House, no less; I believe he +would be capable of going to the original itself, if he could only find +it. In the branch he seats himself at a table covered with waxcloth, +and a pampered menial, of high Dutch extraction and, indeed, as yet only +partially extracted, lays before him a cup of coffee, a roll, and a pat +of butter, all, to quote the deity, very good. Awhile ago, and H. L. S. +used to find the supply of butter insufficient; but he has now learned +the art to exactitude, and butter and roll expire at the same moment. +For this refection he pays ten cents, or five pence sterling (£0 0s 5d). + +Half an hour later, the inhabitants of Bush Street observe the same +slender gentleman armed, like George Washington, with his little +hatchet, splitting kindling, and breaking coal for his fire. He +does this quasi-publicly upon the window-sill; but this is not to +be attributed to any love of notoriety, though he is indeed vain of +his prowess with the hatchet (which he persists in calling an axe), +and daily surprised at the perpetuation of his fingers. The reason is +this: that the sill is a strong, supporting beam, and that blows of the +same emphasis in other parts, of his room might knock the entire shanty +into hell. Thenceforth, for from three to four hours, he is engaged +darkly with an ink-bottle. Yet he is not blacking _his_ boots, for the +only pair that he possesses are innocent of lustre and wear the natural +hue of the material turned up with caked and venerable slush. The youngest +child of his landlady remarks several times a day, as this strange occupant +enters or quits the house, “Dere's de author.” Can it be that this +bright-haired innocent has found the true clue to the mystery? The being +in question is, at least, poor enough to belong to that honorable craft. + +Notes. + +The first of these two letters by Stevenson was written very early in his +literary career, the second when he may be supposed to have been at the +height of his powers. It is interesting to see to what extent he had +improved his style. + +Note now much suggestiveness (apart from the apparent meaning) is +contained in such words and phrases as “the whole filthy embarkation;” +“made very heavy weather of it” (speaking French); “Parc”; +“_artificial_” (the peculiar meaning being indicated by italicizing); +“pampered menial” (the reference being to just the opposite). + +There is a peculiar mechanical sort of humor in omitting the word +_street_ after “Bush,” “Powell,” etc., and in giving the cost of his +meal so elaborately―“ten cents, or fivepence sterling (£0 0s 5d).” + +The chief source of fun is in giving small things an importance they +do not deserve. The author is making fun at himself. Of course since +he makes fun at himself it is good-natured; but it must be just as +good-natured if one is to make fun of any one else. Addison was so +successful because no suggestion of malice ever crept into his satire. + +A LETTER TO BERNARD BARTON. + +By Charles Lamb. + +January 9, 1824. + +Dear B. B.,―Do you know what it is to succumb under an insurmountable +day-mare,―a “whoreson lethargy,” Falstaff calls it,―an indisposition +to do anything or to be anything; a total deadness and distaste; a +suspension of vitality; an indifference to locality; a numb, soporifical +good-for-nothingness; an ossification all over; an oyster-like +insensibility to the passing events; a mind-stupor; a brawny de-fiance +to the needles of a thrust-in conscience? Did you ever have a very +bad cold with a total irresolution to submit to water-gruel processes? +This has been for many weeks my lot and my excuse. My fingers drag +heavily over this paper, and to my thinking it is three-and-twenty +furlongs from here to the end of this demi-sheet. I have not a thing to +say, nothing is of more importance than another. I am flatter than a +denial or a pancake; emptier than Judge Parke's wig when the head is in +it; duller than a country stage when the actors are off it,―a cipher, +an o! I acknowledge life at all only by an occasional convulsional +cough, and a permanent phlegmatic pain in the chest. I am weary of the +world; life is weary of me. My day is gone into twilight, and I don't +think it worth the expense of candles. My wick bath a thief in it, +but I can't muster courage to snuff it. I inhale suffocation; I can't +distinguish veal from mutton; nothing interests me. 'Tis twelve +o'clock, and Thurtell* is just now coming out upon the new drop, Jack +Ketch alertly tucking up his greasy sleeves to do the last office of +mortality; yet cannot I elicit a groan or a moral reflection. If you +told me the world will be at an end tomorrow, I should say “Will it?” +I have not volition enough left to dot my i's, much less to comb my +eyebrows; my eyes are set in my head; my brains are gone out to see a +poor relation in Moorfields, and they did not say when they'd come +back again; my skull is a Grub-street attic to let,―not so much as a +joint-stool left in it; my hand writes, not I, from habit, as chickens +run about a little when their heads are cut off. Oh for a vigorous fit +of gout, colic, toothache―an earwig{†}¤ in my auditory, a fly in my +visual organs; pain is life,―the sharper the more evidence of life; +but this apathy, this death! Did you ever have an obstinate cold, +a six or seven weeks' unintermitting chill and suspension of hope, fear, +conscience, and everything? Yet do I try all I can to cure it. I try +wine, and spirits, and smoking, and snuff in unsparing quantities; but +they all only seem to make me worse, instead of better. I sleep in a damp +room, but it does no good; I come home late o' nights, but do not find +any visible amendment! Who shall deliver me from the body of this death? + + *Hanged that day for the murder of Weare. + + {†}¤An ant + +It is just fifteen minutes after twelve. Thurtell is by this time a good +way on his journey, baiting at Scorpion, perhaps. Ketch is bargaining +for his cast coat and waistcoat; and the Jew demurs at first at three +half-crowns, but on consideration that he may get somewhat by showing 'em +in the town, finally closes. C. L. + +Notes. + +The danger of not adapting your method to your auditor is well +illustrated by the beginning of Lamb's next letter to the same person: + +“My dear sir,―That peevish letter of mine, which was meant to convey +an apology for my incapacity to write, seems to have been taken by +you in too serious a light,―it was only my way of telling you I had +a severe cold.” + +Lamb's letter is filled with about every figure of speech known to +rhetoricians: It will be a useful exercise to pick them out. + +Any person who does not have a well developed sense of humor will hardly +see the force of the reference to Thurtell, the murderer. It is a +whimsical way of indicating by a specific example how empty the writer's +brain was, forcing him to reflect on such a subject in so trivial a manner. + +Observe the occasional summing up of the meaning, curiously repeating +exactly the same thing―“Did you ever have a very bad cold―?” “Did you +ever have an obstinate cold―?” The very short sentences summarize the +very long ones. The repetition is meant to give the impression of being +clumsy and stupid. In describing harshness we use words that are harsh, +in describing awkwardness we use words that are awkward, in describing +brightness and lightness we use words that are bright and light, in the +very words themselves giving a concrete illustration of what we mean. + + +CHAPTER V. + +RIDICULE: + +Poe. + +I have said that humor is good-natured and winning. This is always +true, though the winning of one reader may be at the expense of some +other. Humor used to win one at the expense of another is called +_satire_ and _sarcasm_. The simplest form of using satire and sarcasm +is in direct _ridicule_. + +Ridicule, satire, and sarcasm are suitable for use against an open +enemy, such as a political opponent, against a public nuisance which +ought to be suppressed, or in behalf of higher ideals and standards. +The one thing that makes this style of little effect is anger or morbid +intensity. While some thing or some one is attacked, perhaps with +ferocity, results are to be obtained by winning the reader. So it comes +about that winning, good-natured humor is an essential element in really +successful ridicule. If intense or morbid hatred or temper is allowed +to dominate, the reader is repulsed and made distrustful, and turns away +without being affected in the desired way at all. + +The following, which opens a little known essay of Edgar Allan Poe's, +is one of the most perfect examples of simple ridicule in the English +language. We may have our doubts as to whether Poe was justified in +using such withering satire on poor Mr. Channing; but we cannot help +feeling that the workmanship is just what it ought to be when ridicule +is employed in a proper cause. Perhaps the boosting of books into +public regard by the use of great names is a proper and sufficient +subject for attack by ridicule. + +WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING. + +By Edgar Allan Poe. + +In speaking of Mr. William Ellery Channing, who has just published a +very neat little volume of poems, we feel the necessity of employing the +indefinite rather than the definite article. He is _a,_ and by no means +_the,_ William Ellery Channing. He is only the _son_* of the great +essayist deceased… It may be said in his favor that nobody ever heard +of him. Like an honest woman, he has always succeeded in keeping +himself from being made the subject of gossip. His book contains +about sixty-three things, which he calls poems, and which he no doubt +seriously supposes to be such. They are full of all kinds of mistakes, +of which the most important is that of their having been printed at all. + +They are not precisely English―nor will we insult a great nation by +calling them Kickapoo; perhaps they are Channingese. We may convey +some general idea of them by two foreign terms not in common use―the +Italian _pavoneggiarsi,_ “to strut like a peacock,” and the German word +for “sky-rocketing,” _Schwarmerei_. They are more preposterous, in a word, +than any poems except those of the author of “Sam Patch;” for we presume +we are right (are we not?) in taking it for granted that the author of +“Sam Patch” is the very worst of all the wretched poets that ever existed +upon the earth. + +In spite, however, of the customary phrase of a man's “making a fool of +himself,” we doubt if any one was ever a fool of his own free will and +accord. A poet, therefore, should not always be taken too strictly to +task. He should be treated with leniency, and even when damned, should +be damned with respect. Nobility of descent, too, should be allowed +its privileges not more in social life than in letters. The son of a +great author cannot be handled too tenderly by the critical Jack Ketch. +Mr. Channing must be hung, that's true. He must be hung _in terrorem +——and_ for this there is no help under the sun; but then we shall do +him all manner of justice, and observe every species of decorum, and +be especially careful of his feelings, and hang him gingerly and +gracefully, with a silken cord, as Spaniards hang their grandees of +the blue blood, their nobles of the _sangre azul_. + + *Really the _nephew_. + +To be serious, then, as we always wish to be, if possible, Mr. Channing +(whom we suppose to be a _very_ young man, since we are precluded from +supposing him a _very_ old one), appears to have been inoculated at the +same moment with _virus_ from Tennyson and from Carlyle, etc. + +Notes. + +The three paragraphs which we have quoted illustrate three different +methods of using ridicule. The first is the simple one of contemptuous +epithets——“calling names,” as we put it in colloquial parlance. So long +as it is good-humored and the writer does not show personal malice, it +is a good way; but the reader soon tires of it. A sense of fairness +prevents him from listening to mere calling of names very long. So +in the second paragraph Poe changes his method to one more subtile: he +pretends to apologize and find excuses, virtually saying to the reader, +“Oh, I'm going to be perfectly fair,” while at the same time the excuses +are so absurd that the effect is ridicule of a still more intense and +biting type. In the third paragraph Poe seems to answer the reader's +mental comment to the effect that “you are merely amusing us by your +clever wit” by asserting that he means to be extremely serious. He then +proceeds about his business with a most solemn face, which is as amusing +in literature as it is in comic representations on the stage. + +In practising upon this type of writing one must select a subject that +he feels to be decidedly in need of suppression. Perhaps the most +impersonal and easy subject to select for practice is a popular novel +in which one can see absurdities, or certain ridiculous departments in +the newspapers, such as the personal-advice column. Taking such a +subject, adapt Poe's language to it with as little change as possible. + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE RHETORICAL, IMPASSIONED AND LOFTY STYLES: + +Macaulay and De Quincey. The familiar style of the humorist is almost +universal in its availability. It is the style of conversation, to +a great extent―at least of the best conversation,―of letter-writing, +of essay-writing, and, in large part, of fiction. But there are moments +when a different and more, hard and artificial style is required. These +moments are few, and many people never have them at all. Some people +try to have them and thereby fall into the fault of “fine writing.” +But it is certainly very important that when the great moment comes we +should be prepared for it. Then a lofty and more or less artificial +style is demanded as imperatively as the key-stone of an arch when +the arch is completed except for the key-stone. Without the ability +to write one lofty sentence, all else that we have said may completely +fail of its effect, however excellent in itself. + +There are three kinds of prose which may be used on such occasions +as we have described. The lowest and most common of these, as it is +the most artificial and most easily acquired, is the rhetorical, or +oratorical, style, the style of all orators, the style which is called +eloquence. Of course we may find specimens of it in actual oratory, but +it is best illustrated in its use for written compositions in Macaulay. +The next variety, more rarely used, was especially developed if not +actually invented by De Quincey and was called by him impassioned prose. + +It would seem at first that language could go no higher; but it does +mount a little higher simply by trying to do less, and we have loftiness +in its plain simplicity, as when man stands bareheaded and humble in the +presence of God alone. + +Macaulay's style is highly artificial, but its rotundity, its movement, +its impressive sweep have made it popular. Almost any one can acquire +some of its features; but the ease with which it is acquired makes it +dangerous in a high degree, for the writer becomes fascinated with it and +uses it far too often. It is true that Macaulay used it practically all +the time; but it is very doubtful it Macaulay would have succeeded so well +with it to-day, when the power of simplicity is so much better understood. + +De Quincey's “impassioned prose” was an attempt on his part to imitate +the effects of poetry in prose. Without doubt he succeeded wonderfully; +but the art is so difficult that no one else has equalled him and prose +of the kind that he wrote is not often written. Still, it is worth +while to try to catch some of his skill. He began to write this kind of +composition in “The Confessions of an English Opium Eater,” but he reached +perfection only in some compositions intended as sequels to that book, +namely, “Suspiria de Profundis,” and “The English Mail Coach,” with its +“Vision of Sudden Death,” and “Dream-Fugue” upon the theme of sudden death. + +What we should strive for above all is the mighty effect of simple and +bare loftiness of thought. Masters of this style have not been few, +and they seem to slip into it with a sudden and easy upward sweep that +can be compared to nothing so truly as to the upward flight of an eagle. +They mount because their spirits are lofty. No one who has not a lofty +thought has any occasion to write the lofty style; and such a person +will usually succeed best by paying very little attention to the manner +when he actually comes to write of high ideas. Still, the lofty style +should be studied and mastered like any other. + +It is to be noted that all these styles are applicable chiefly if not +altogether to description. Narration may become intense at times, +but its intensity demands no especial alteration of style. Dialogue, +too, may be lofty, but only in dramas of passion, and very few people +are called upon to write these. But it is often necessary to indicate +a loftier, a more serious atmosphere, and this is effected by +description of surrounding details in an elevated manner. + +One of the most natural, simple, and graceful of lofty descriptions +may be found in Ruskin's “King of the Golden River,” Chapter III, +where he pictures the mountain scenery: + +It was, indeed, a morning that might have made any one happy, even with +no Golden River to seek for. Level lines of dewy mist lay stretched +along the valley, out of which rose the massy mountains,―their lower +cliffs in pale gray shadow, hardly distinguishable from the floating +vapor, but gradually ascending till they caught the sunlight, which +ran in sharp touches of ruddy color along the angular crags, and +pierced in long, level rays, through their fringes of spear-like Pine. +Far above, shot up splintered masses of castellated rock, jagged and +shivered into myriads of fantastic forms, with here and there a streak +of sunlit snow, traced down their chasms like a line of forked lightning; +and, far beyond, and far above all these, fainter than the morning cloud, +but purer and changeless, slept in the blue sky, the utmost peaks of the +eternal snow. + +If we ask how this loftiness is attained, the reply must be, first, +that the subject is lofty and deserving of lofty description. +Indeed, the description never has a right to be loftier than the +subject. Then, examining this passage in detail, we find that the +words are all dignified, and in their very sound they are lofty, as +for instance “massy,” “myriads,” “castellated,” “angular crags.” +The very sound of the words seems to correspond to the idea. Notice +the repetition of the letter _i_ in “Level lines of dewy mist lay +stretched along the valley.” This repetition of a letter is called +alliteration, and here it serves to suggest in and of itself the idea +of the level. The same effect is produced again in “streak of sunlit +snow” with the repetition of _s_. The entire passage is filled with +_alliteration,_ but it is used so naturally that you would never think +of it unless your attention were called to it. + +Next, we note that the structure rises gradually but steadily upward. +We never jump to loftiness, and always find it necessary to climb there. + +“Jumping to loftiness” is like trying to lift oneself by one's +boot-straps: it is very ridiculous to all who behold it. Ruskin begins +with a very ordinary sentence. He says it was a fine morning, just as any +one might say it. But the next sentence starts suddenly upward from the +dead level, and to the end of the paragraph we rise, terrace on terrace, +by splendid sweeps and jagged cliffs, till at the end we reach “the +eternal snow.” + +Exercise. + +The study of the following selections from Macaulay and De Quincey may +be conducted on a plan a trifle different from that heretofore employed. + +The present writer spent two hours each day for two weeks reading this +passage from Macaulay over and over: then he wrote a short essay on +“Macaulay as a Model of Style,” trying to describe Macaulay's style as +forcibly and skillfully as Macaulay describes the Puritans. The resulting +paper did not appear to be an imitation of Macaulay, but it had many of +the strong features of Macaulay's style which had not appeared in previous +work. The same method was followed in the study of De Quincey's “English +Mail Coach,” with even better results. The great difficulty arose from +the fact that these lofty styles were learned only too well and were not +counterbalanced by the study of other and more universally useful styles. +It is dangerous to become fascinated with the lofty style, highly useful +as it is on occasion. + +If the student does not feel that he is able to succeed by the method of +study just described, let him confine himself to more direct imitation, +following out Franklin's plan. + + +THE PURITANS. + +(From the essay on Milton.) + +By T. B. Macaulay. + +We would speak first of the Puritans, the most remarkable body of men, +perhaps, which the world has ever produced. The odious and ridiculous +parts of their character lie on the surface. He that runs may read +them; nor have there been wanting attentive and malicious observers to +point them out. For many years after the Restoration, they were the +theme of unmeasured invective and derision. They were exposed to the +utmost licentiousness of the press and of the stage, when the press +and the stage were most licentious. They were not men of letters; +they were, as a body, unpopular; they could not defend themselves; +and the public would not take them under its protection. They +were therefore abandoned, without reserve, to the tender mercies +of the satirists and dramatists. The ostentatious simplicity of their +dress, their sour aspect, their nasal twang, their stiff posture, their +long graces, their Hebrew names, the Scriptural phrases which they +introduced on every occasion, their contempt of human learning, their +destestation of polite amusements, were indeed fair game for the +laughers. But it is not from the laughers alone that the philosophy +of history is to be learnt. And he who approaches this subject should +carefully guard against the influence of that potent ridicule which has +already misled so many excellent writers. + + . . . . . . . . + +Those who roused the people to resistance, who directed their measures +through a long series of eventful years, who formed out of the most +unpromising materials, the finest army that Europe has ever seen, who +trampled down King, Church, and Aristocracy, who, in the short intervals +of domestic sedition and rebellion, made the name of England terrible +to every nation on the face of the earth, were no vulgar fanatics. +Most of their absurdities were mere external badges, like the signs of +freemasonry, or the dress of the friars. We regret that these badges +were not more attractive. We regret that a body to whose courage and +talents mankind has owed inestimable obligations had not the lofty +elegance which distinguished some of the adherents of Charles the First, +or the easy good-breeding for which the court of Charles the Second +was celebrated. But, if we must make our choice, we shall, like Bassanio +in the play, turn from the specious caskets which contain only the Death's +head and the Fool's head and fix on the plain leaden chest which conceals +the treasure. + +The Puritans were men whose minds had derived a peculiar character +from the daily contemplation of superior beings and eternal interests. +Not content with acknowledging in general terms an overruling +Providence, they habitually ascribed every event to the will of the +Great Being, for whose power nothing was too vast, for whose inspection +nothing was too minute. To know him, to serve him, to enjoy him, +was with them the great end of existence. They rejected with contempt +the ceremonious homage which other sects substituted for the pure +worship of the soul. Instead of catching occasional glimpses of the +Deity through an obscuring veil, they aspired to gaze full on his +intolerable brightness, and to commune with him face to face. Hence +originated their contempt for terrestrial distinctions. The difference +between the greatest and the meanest of mankind seemed to vanish, when +compared with the boundless intervals which separated the whole race +from him on whom their eyes were constantly fixed. They recognized no +title to superiority but his favor; and, confident of that favor, they +despised all the accomplishments and all the dignities of the world. +If they were unacquainted with the works of philosophers and poets, +they were deeply read in the oracles of God. If their names were not +found in the registers of heralds, they were recorded in the Book of Life. +If their steps were not accompanied by a splendid train of menials, legions +of ministering angels had charge over them. Their palaces were houses not +made with hands; their diadems crowns of glory which should never fade +away. On the rich and the eloquent, on nobles and priests, they looked +down with contempt: for they esteemed themselves rich in a more precious +treasure, and eloquent in a more sublime language, nobles' by the right +of an earlier creation, and priests by the imposition of a mightier hand. +The very meanest of them was a being to whose fate a mysterious and +terrible importance belonged, on whose slightest action the spirits of +light and darkness looked with anxious interest, who had been destined, +before heaven and earth were created, to enjoy a felicity which should +continue when heaven and earth should have passed away. Events which +shortsighted politicians ascribed to earthly causes, had been ordained on +his account. For his sake empires had risen, and flourished, and decayed. +For his sake the Almighty had proclaimed his will by the pen of the +Evangelist, and the harp of the prophet. He had been wrested by no common +deliverer from the grasp of no common foe. He had been ransomed by the +sweat of no vulgar agony, by the blood of no earthly sacrifice. It was +for him that the sun had been darkened, that the rocks had been rent, that +the dead had risen, that all nature had shuddered at the suffering of her +expiring God. + +Thus the Puritans were made up of two different men, the one all +self-abasement, penitence, gratitude, passion, the other proud, calm, +inflexible, sagacious. He prostrated himself in the dust before his +Maker: but he set his foot on the neck of his king. In his devotional +retirement, he prayed with convulsions, and groans, and tears. +He was half maddened by glorious or terrible illusions. He heard the +lyres of angels or the tempting whispers of fiends. He caught a gleam +of the Beatific Vision, or woke screaming from dreams of everlasting +fire. Like Vane, he thought himself intrusted with the sceptre of the +millienial year. Like Fleetwood he cried in the bitterness of his soul +that God had hid his face from him. But when he took his seat in the +council, or girt on his sword for war, these tempestuous works of the +soul had left no perceptible trace behind them. + +People who saw nothing of the godly but their uncouth visages, and heard +nothing from them but their groans and their whining hymns, might laugh +at them. But those had little reason to laugh who encountered them in +the hall of debate or in the field of battle. These fanatics brought +to civil affairs a coolness of judgment and an immutability of purpose +which some writers have thought inconsistent with their religious zeal, +but which were in fact the necessary effects of it. The intensity +of their feelings on one subject made them tranquil on every other. +One overpowering sentiment had subjected to itself pity and hatred, +ambition and fear. Death had lost its terrors, and pleasure its charms. + +They had their smiles and their tears, their raptures and their sorrows, +but not for the things of this world. Enthusiasm had made them Stoics, +had cleared their minds from every vulgar passion and prejudice, +and raised them above the influence of danger and of corruption. It +sometimes might lead them to pursue unwise ends, but never to choose +unwise means. They went through the world like Sir Artegal's iron man +Talus with his flail, crushing and trampling down oppressors, mingling +with human beings, but having neither part nor lot in human infirmities, +insensible to fatigue, to pleasure, and to pain, not to be pierced by +any weapon, not to be withstood by aһ barrier. + +Such we believe to have been the character of the Puritans. We perceive +the absurdity of their manners. We dislike the sullen gloom of their +domestic habits. We acknowledge that the tone of their minds was often +injured by straining after things too high for mortal reach: and we know +that, in spite of their hatred of Popery, they too often fell into the +worst vices of that bad system, intolerance and extravagant austerity, +that they had their anchorites and their crusades, their Dunstans and +their De Montforts, their Dominics and their Escobars. Yet, when all +circumstances are taken into consideration, we do not hesitate to +pronounce them a brave, a wise, an honest, and a useful body. + +Notes. + +The most casual examination of Macaulay's style shows us that the words, +the sentences, and the paragraphs are all arranged in rows, one on this +side, one on that, a column here, another just like it over there, +a whole row of columns above this window, and a whole row of columns +above that window, just as bricks are built up in geometrical design. +Almost every word contains an antithesis. The whole constitutes what +is called the _balanced structure_. + +We see also that Macaulay frequently repeats the same word again and +again, and the repetition gives strength. Indeed, repetition is necessary +to make this balanced structure: there must always be so much likeness and +so much unlikeness―and the likeness and unlikeness must just balance. + +We have shown the utility of variation: Macaulay shows the force there +is in monotony, in repetition. In one sentence after another through +an entire paragraph he repeats the same thing over and over and over. +There is no rising by step after step to something higher in Macaulay: +everything is on the dead level; but it is a powerful, heroic level. + +The first words repeated and contrasted are press and stage. The sentence +containing these words is balanced nicely. In the following sentence we +have four short sentences united into one, and the first clause contrasts +with the second and the third with the fourth. The sentence beginning +“The ostentatious simplicity of their dress” gives us a whole series of +subjects, all resting on a single short predicate―“were fair game for +the laughers.” The next sentence catches up the, word “laughers” and +plays upon it. + +In the second paragraph we have as subject “those” followed by a whole +series of relative clauses beginning with “who,” and this series again +rests on a very short predicate―“were no vulgar fanatics.” + +And so on through the entire description, we find series after series, +contrast after contrast; now it is a dozen words all in the same +construction, now a number of sentences all beginning in the same way +and ending in the same way. + +The first paragraph takes up the subject of the contrast of those who +laughed and those who were laughed at. The second paragraph enlarges +upon good points in the objects of the examination. The third paragraph +describes their minds, and we perceive that Macaulay has all along been +leading into this by his series of contrasts. In the fourth paragraph +he brings the two sides into the closest possible relations, so that the +contrast reaches its height. The last short paragraph sums up the facts. + +This style, though highly artificial, is highly useful when used in +moderation. It is unfortunate that Macaulay uses it so constantly. +When he cannot find contrasts he sometimes makes them, and to make +them he distorts the truth. Besides, he wearies us by keeping us too +monotonously on a high dead level. In time we come to feel that he is +making contrasts merely because he has a passion for making them, not +because they serve any purpose. But for one who wishes to learn this +style, no better model can be found in the English language. + + + +DREAM-FUGUE + +On the Theme of Sudden Death.* + +By Thomas De Quincey. + + *“The English Mail-Coach” consists of three sections, “The Glory of +Motion,” “vision of Sudden Death,” and “Dream-Fugue.” De Quincey +describes riding on the top of a heavy mail-coach. In the dead of +night they pass a young couple in a light gig, and the heavy mail-coach +just escapes shattering the light gig and perhaps killing the young +occupants. De Quincey develops his sensations in witnessing this +“vision of sudden death,” and rises step by step to the majestic beauty +and poetic passion of the dream-fugue. + + “Whence the sound + Of instruments, that made melodious chime, + Was heard, of harp and organ; and who moved + Their stops and chords, was seen; his volant touch + Instinct through all proportions, low and high, + Fled and pursued transverse the resonant fugue.” + +Paradise Lost, Book XI. + + + +_Tumultuosissimamente_. + +Passion of sudden death! that once in youth I read and interpreted by +the shadows of thy averted signs!―rapture of panic taking the shape +(which amongst tombs in churches I have seen) of woman bursting her +selpuchral bonds―of woman's ionic form bending forward from the ruins +of her grave with arching foot, with eyes upraised, with clasped, +adoring hands―waiting, watching, trembling, praying for the trumpet's +call to rise from dust forever! Ah, vision too fearful of shuddering +humanity on the brink of mighty abysses!―vision that didst start back, +that didst reel away, like a shivering scroll before the wrath of fire +racing on the wings of the wind! Epilepsy so brief of horror, wherefore +is it that thou canst not die? Passing so suddenly into darkness, +wherefore is it that still thou sheddest thy sad funeral blights upon +the gorgeous mosaic of dreams? Fragments of music too passionate, +heard once and heard no more, what aileth thee, that thy deep rolling +chords come up at intervals through all the worlds of sleep, +and after forty years, have lost no element of horror? + + I. + +Lo, it is summer―almighty summer! The everlasting gates of life and +summer are thrown open wide; and on the ocean tranquil and verdant as +a savannah, the unknown lady from the dreadful vision and I myself are +floating―she upon a fairy pinnace, and I upon an English three-decker. + +Both of us are wooing gales of festive happiness within the domain +of our common country, within that ancient watery park, within that +pathless chase of ocean, where England takes her pleasure as a huntress +through winter and summer, from the rising to the setting sun. Ah, +what a wilderness of floral beauty was hidden, or was suddenly revealed, +upon the tropic islands through which the pinnace moved! And upon her +deck what a bevy of human flowers―young women how lovely, young men bow +noble, that were dancing together, and slowly drifting toward us amidst +music and incense, amidst blossoms from forests and gorgeous corymbi +from vintages, amidst natural carolling, and the echoes of sweet +girlish laughter. Slowly the pinnace nears us, gaily she hails us, +and silently she disappears beneath the shadow of our mighty bows. +But then, as at some signal from heaven, the music, and the carols, +and the sweet echoing of girlish laughter,―all are hushed. What evil +has smitten the pinnace, meeting or overtaking her? Did ruin to our +friends couch within our own dreadful shadow? Was our shadow the shadow +of death? I looked over the bow for an answer, and, behold! the pinnace +was dismantled; the revel and the revellers were found no more; the glory +of the vintage was dust; and the forests with their beauty were left +without a witness upon the seas. “But where,” and I turned to our crew― +“where are the lovely women that danced beneath the awning of flowers and +clustering corynibi? Whither have fled the noble young men that danced +with _them?_” Answer there was none. But suddenly the man at the +masthead, whose countenance darkened with alarm, cried out, “Sail on +the weather beam! Down she comes upon us; in seventy seconds she +also will founder,” + + II. + +I looked to the weather side, and the summer had departed. The sea +was rocking, and shaking with gathering wrath. Upon its surface sat +mighty mists, which grouped themselves into arches and long cathedral +aisles. Down one of these, with the fiery pace of a quarrel from a +crossbow, ran a frigate right athwart our course. “Are they mad?” +some voice exclaimed from our deck. “Do they woo their ruin?” +But in a moment, as she was close upon us, some impulse of a heady +current or local vortex gave a wheeling bias to her course, and off +she forged without a shock. As she ran past us, high aloft amongst +the shrouds stood the lady of the pinnace. The deeps in malice +opened ahead to receive her, the billows were fierce to catch her. +But far away she was borne upon the desert spaces of the sea: whilst +still by sight I followed her, she ran before the howling gale, +chased by angry sea-birds and by maddening billows: still I saw her, +as at the moment when she ran past us, standing amongst the shrouds, +with her white draperies streaming before the wind. There she stood, +with hair dishevelled, one hand clutched amongst the tackling―rising, +sinking, fluttering, trembling, praying―there for leagues I saw her as +she stood, raising at intervals one hand to heaven, amidst the fiery +crests of the pursuing waves and the raving of the storm; until at last, +upon a sound from afar of malicious laughter and mockery, all was hidden +forever in driving showers; and afterwards, but when I know not, nor how. + +Notes. + +De Quincey's “Dream-Fugue” is as luxuriant and extravagant a use of +metaphor as Macaulay's “Puritans” is of the use of antithesis and the +balanced structure. The whole thing is a metaphor, and every part is a +metaphor within a metaphor. + +This is much more than mere fine writing. It is a metaphorical +representation of the incident he has previously described. In that +incident he was particular struck by the actions of the lady. The young +man turned his horse out of the path of the coach, but some part of the +coach struck one of the wheels of the gig, and as it did so, the lady +involuntarily started up, throwing up her arms, and at once sank back +as in a faint. De Quincey did not see her face, and hence he speaks +in this description of “averted signs?” The “woman bursting her +sepulchral bonds” probably refers to a tomb in Westminster Abbey which +represents a woman escaping from the door of the tomb, and Death, a +skeleton, is just behind her, but too late to catch her “arching foot” +as she flies upward―presumably as a spirit. + +So every image corresponds to a reality, either in the facts or in +De Quincey's emotion at the sight of them. The novice fails in such +writing as this because he becomes enamored of his beautiful images and +forgets what he is trying to illustrate. The relation between reality +and image should be as invariable as mathematics. If such startling +images cannot be used with perfect clearness and vivid perception of +their usefulness and value, they should not be used at all. De Quincey +is so successful because his mind comprehends every detail of the scene, +and through the images we see the bottom truth as through a perfect +crystal. A clouded diamond is no more ruined by its cloudiness than +a clouded metaphor. + +As in Ruskin's description of the mountain, we see in this the value +of the sounds of words, and how they seem to make music in themselves. +A Word lacking in dignity in the very least would have ruined the whole +picture, and so would a word whose rotund sound did not correspond +to the loftiness of the passage. Perhaps the only word that jars is +“English three-decker”―but the language apparently afforded De Quincey +no substitute which would make his meaning clear. + + +CHAPTER VII. + +RESERVE: + +Thackeray. + +It has been hinted that the rhetorical, impassioned, and lofty styles +are in a measure dangerous. The natural corrective of that danger is +artistic _reserve_. + +Reserve is a negative quality, and so it has not been emphasized by +writers on composition as it ought to be. But if it is negative, +it is none the less real and important, and fortunately we have in +Thackeray a masterly example of its positive power. + +Originally reserve is to be traced to a natural reticence and modesty +in the character of the author who employs it. It may be studied, +however, and cultivated as a characteristic of style. As an artistic +quality it consists in saying exactly what the facts demand, no more, +no less―and to say no more especially on those occasions when most +people employ superlatives. Macaulay was not characterized by reserve. +He speaks of the Puritans as “the most remarkable body of men the world +ever produced.” “Most” is a common word in his vocabulary, since it +served so well to round out the phrase and the idea. Thackeray, on the +other hand, is almost too modest. He is so afraid of saying too much +that sometimes he does not say enough, and that may possibly account +for the fact that he was never as popular as the overflowing Dickens. +The lack of reserve made Dickens “slop over” occasionally, as indelicate +critics have put it; and the presence of reserve did more than any other +one thing to give Thackeray the reputation for perfect style which all +concede to him. + +One of the most famous passages in all of Thackeray's works is the +description of the battle of Waterloo in “Vanity Fair,” ch. XXXII: + + +All that day, from morning till past sunset, the cannon never ceased to +roar. It was dark when the cannonading stopped all of a sudden. + +All of us have read of what occurred during that interval. The tale is +in every Englishman's mouth; and you and I, who were children when the +great battle was won and lost, are never tired of hearing and recounting +the history of that famous action. Its remembrance rankles still in the +bosoms of millions of the countrymen of those brave men who lost the +day. They pant for an opportunity of revenging that humiliation; and if +a contest, ending in a victory on their part, should ensue, elating them +in their turn, and leaving its cursed legacy of hatred and rage behind +to us, there is no end to the so called glory and shame, and to the +alternation of successful and unsuccessful murder, in which two +high-spirited nations might engage. Centuries hence, we Frenchmen +and Englishmen might be boasting and killing each other still, +carrying out bravely the Devil's code of honor. + +All our friends took their share, and fought like men in the great +field. All day long, while the women were praying ten miles away, +the lines of the dauntless English infantry were receiving and repelling +the furious charges of the French horsemen. Guns which were heard in +Brussels were ploughing up their ranks, and comrades falling, and the +resolute survivors closing in. Towards evening, the attack of the +French, repeated and resisted so bravely, slackened in its fury. +They had other foes besides the British to engage, or were preparing +for a final onset. It came at last; the columns of the Imperial Guard +marched up the hill of Saint Jean, at length and at once to sweep the +English from the height which they had maintained all day and spite of +all; unscared by the thunder of the artillery, which hurled death from +the English line,―the dark rolling column pressed on and up the hill. +It seemed almost to crest the eminence, when it began to wave and +falter. Then it stopped, still facing the shot. Then, at last, +the English troops rushed from the post from which no enemy had been +able to dislodge them, and the Guard turned and fled. + +No more firing was heard at Brussels,―the pursuit rolled miles away. +Darkness came down on the field and city; and Amelia was praying for +George, who was lying on his face, dead, with a bullet through his heart.” + + +Who before ever began the description of a great victory by praising the +enemy! And yet when we consider it, there is no more artistically +powerful method than this, of showing how very great the enemy was, +and then saying simply, “The English defeated them.” + +But Thackeray wished to do more than this. He was preparing the reader +for the awful presence of death in a private affliction, Amelia's loss +of her husband George. To do this he lets his heart go out in sympathy +for the French, and by that sympathy he seems to rise above all race, to +a supreme height where exist the griefs of the human heart and God alone. + +With all this careful preparation, the short, simple closing paragraph― +the barest possible statement of the facts―produces an effect unsurpassed +in literature. The whole situation seems to cry out for superlatives; +yet Thackeray uses none, but remains dignified, calm, and therefore grand. + +The following selection serves as a sort of preface to the novel +“Vanity Fair.” It is quite as remarkable for the things it leaves +unsaid as for the things it says. Of course its object is to whet the +reader's appetite for the story that is to follow; but throughout the +author seems to be laughing at himself. In the last paragraph we see +one of the few superlatives to be found In Thackeray―he says the show +has been “most favorably noticed” by the “conductors of the Public +Press, and by the Nobility and Gentry.” Those capital letters prove the +humorous intent of the superlative, which seems to be a burlesque on +other authors who praise themselves. One of the criticisms had been +that Amelia was no better than a doll; and Thackeray takes the critics +at their word and refers to the “Amelia Doll,” merely hinting gently +that even a doll may find friends. + + +BEFORE THE CURTAIN. + +(Preface to “Vanity Fair.”) + +By W. M. Thackeray. + +As the Manager of the Performance sits before the curtain on the boards, +and looks into the Fair, a feeling of profound melancholy comes over him +in his survey of the bustling place. There is a great quantity of +eating and drinking, making love and jilting, laughing and the contrary, +smoking, cheating, fighting, dancing, and fiddling: there are bullies +pushing about, bucks ogling the women, knaves picking pockets, policemen +on the lookout, quacks (other quacks, plague take them!) bawling in +front of their booths, and yokels looking up at the tinselled dancers +and poor old rouged tumblers, while the light-fingered folk are +operating upon their pockets behind. Yes, this is Vanity Fair; not a +moral place certainly; nor a merry one, though very noisy. Look at the +faces of the actors and buffoons when they come off from their business; +and Tom Fool washing the paint off his cheeks before he sits down to +dinner with his wife and the little Jack Puddings behind the canvas. +The curtain will be up presently, and he will be turning over head and +heels, and crying, “How are you?” + +A man with a reflective turn of mind, walking through an exhibition +of this sort, will not be oppressed, I take it, by his own or other +people's hilarity. An episode of humor or kindness touches and amuses +him here and there,―a pretty child looking at a gingerbread stall; +a pretty girl blushing whilst her lover talks to her and chooses her +fairing; poor Tom Fool, yonder behind the wagon mumbling his bone +with the honest family which lives by his tumbling; but the general +impression is one more melancholy than mirthful. When you come home, +you sit down, in a sober, contemplative, not uncharitable frame of mind, +and apply yourself to your books or your business. + +I have no other moral than this to tag to the present story of “Vanity +Fair.” Some people consider Fairs immoral altogether, and eschew such, +with their servants and families; very likely they are right. But persons +who think otherwise, and are of a lazy, or a benevolent, or a sarcastic +mood, may perhaps like to step in for half an hour, and look at the +performances. There are scenes of all sorts; some dreadful combats, +some grand and lofty horse-riding, some scenes of high life, and some +of very middling indeed; some love-making for the sentimental, and some +light comic business; the whole accompanied by appropriate scenery, +and brilliantly illuminated with the Author's own candles. + +What more has the Manager of the Performance to say?―To acknowledge the +kindness with which it has been received in all the principal towns of +England through which the show has passed, and where it has been most +favorably noticed by the respected conductors of the Public Press, and by +the Nobility and Gentry. He is proud to think that his Puppets have given +satisfaction to the very best company in this empire. The famous little +Becky Puppet has been pronounced to be uncommonly flexible in the joints, +and lively on the wire: the Amelia Doll, though it has had a smaller +circle of admirers, has yet been carved and dressed with the greatest care +by the artist: the Dobbin Figure, though apparently clumsy, yet dances in +a very amusing and natural manner: the Little Boy's Dance has been liked +by some; and please to remark the richly dressed figure of the Wicked +Nobleman, on which no expense has been spared, and which Old Nick will +fetch away at the end of this singular performance. + +And with this, and a profound bow to his patrons, the Manager retires, +and the curtain rises. + +London, June 28, 1848. + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +CRITICISM: + +Matthew Arnold and Ruskin. + +The term “criticism” may appropriately be used to designate all writing +in which logic predominates over emotion. The style of criticism is +the style of argument, exposition, and debate, as well as of literary +analysis; and it is the appropriate style to be used in mathematical +discussions and all scientific essays. + +Of course the strictly critical style may be united with almost any other. +We are presenting pure types; but very seldom does it happen that any +composition ordinarily produced belongs to any one pure type. Criticism +would be dull without the enlivening effects of some appeal to the +emotions. We shall illustrate this point in a quotation from Ruskin. + +The critical style has just one secret: It depends on a very close +definition of work in ordinary use, words do not have a sufficiently +definite meaning for scientific purposes. Therefore in scientific writing +it is necessary to define them exactly, and so change common words into +technical terms. To these may be added the great body of words used in +no other way than as technical terms. + +Of course our first preparation for criticism is to master the technical +terms and technical uses of words peculiar to the subject we are treating. +Then we must make it clear to the reader that we are using words in their +technical senses so that he will know how to interpret them. + +But beyond that we must make technical terms as we go along, by defining +common words very strictly. This is nicely illustrated by Matthew Arnold, +one of the most accomplished of pure critics. The opening paragraphs +of the first chapter of “Culture and Anarchy”―the chapter entitled +“Sweetness and Light”―will serve for illustration, and the student is +referred to the complete work for material for further study and imitation. + +From “Sweetness and Light.” + +The disparagers of culture, [says Mr. Arnold], make its motive +curiosity; sometimes, indeed, they make its motive mere exclusiveness +and vanity. The culture which is supposed to plume itself on a +smattering of Greek and Latin is a culture which is begotten by nothing +so intellectual as curiosity; it is valued either out of sheer vanity +and ignorance, or else as an engine of social and class distinction, +separating its holder, like a badge or title, from other people who have +not got it. No serious man would call this _culture,_ or attach any +value to it, as culture, at all. To find the real ground for the very +different estimate which serious people will set upon culture, we must +find some motive for culture in the terms of which may lie a real +ambiguity; and such a motive the word _curiosity_ gives us. + +I have before now pointed out that we English do not, like the +foreigners, use this word in a good sense as well as in a bad sense. +A liberal and intelligent eagerness about the things of the mind may be +meant by a foreigner when he speaks of curiosity, but with us the word +always conveys a certain notion of frivolous and unedifying activity. +In the _Quarterly Review,_ some little time ago, was an estimate of +the celebrated French critic, M. Sainte-Beuve, and a very inadequate +estimate it in my judgment was. And its inadequacy consisted chiefly +in this: that in our English way it left out of sight the double sense +really involved in the word _curiosity,_ thinking enough was said to +stamp M. Sainte-Beuve with blame if it was said that he was impelled +in his operations as a critic by curiosity, and omitting either to +perceive that M. Sainte-Beuve himself, and many other people with +him, would consider that this was praiseworthy and not blameworthy, +or to point out why it ought really to be accounted worthy of blame +and not of praise. For as there is a curiosity about intellectual +matters which is futile, and merely a disease, so there is certainly +a curiosity,―a desire after the things of the mind simply for their +own sakes and for the pleasure of seeing them as they are,―which is, +in an intelligent being, natural and laudable. Nay, and the very desire +to see things as they are implies a balance and regulation of mind which +is not often attained without fruitful effort, and which is the very +opposite of the blind and diseased impulse of mind which is what we mean +to blame when we blame curiosity. Montesquieu says: ‘The first motive +which ought to impel us to study is the desire to augment the excellence +of our nature, and to render an intelligent being yet more intelligent.’ +This is the true ground to assign for the genuine scientific passion, +however manifested, and for culture, viewed simply as a fruit of this +passion; and it is a worthy ground, even though we let the term +_curiosity_ stand to describe it. + +Starting with exact definitions of words, it is easy to pass to exact +definitions of ideas, which is the thing we should be aiming at all +the time. The logical accuracy of our language, however, is apparent +throughout. + +Matthew Arnold does not embellish his criticism, nor does he make any +special appeal to the feelings or emotions of his readers. Not so Ruskin. +He discovers intellectual emotions, and makes pleasant appeals to those +emotions. Consequently his criticism has been more popular than Matthew +Arnold's. As an example of this freer, more varied critical style, let +us cite the opening paragraphs of the lecture “Of Queens' Gardens”——in +“Sesame and Lilies”: + +From “Sesame and Lilies.” + +It will be well … that I should shortly state to you my general +intention… The questions specially proposed to you in my former +lecture, namely How and What to Read, rose out of a far deeper one, +which it was my endeavor to make you propose earnestly to yourselves, +namely, Why to Read I want you to feel, with me, that whatever advantage +we possess in the present day in the diffusion of education and of +literature, can only be rightly used by any of us when we have apprehended +clearly what education is to lead to, and literature to teach. I wish +you to see that both well directed moral training and well chosen reading +lead to the possession of a power over the ill-guided and illiterate, +which is, according to the measure of it, in the truest sense kingly;* +conferring indeed the purest kingship that can exist among men. Too many +other kingships (however distinguished by visible insignia or material +power) being either spectral, or tyrannous; spectral―that is to say, +aspects and shadows only of royalty, hollow as death, and which only the +“likeness of a kingly crown have on;” or else tyrannous―that is to say, +substituting their own will for the law of justice and love by which all +true kings rule. + + *The preceding lecture was entitled “Of Kings's Treasures.” + +There is then, I repeat (and as I want to leave this idea with you, I +begin with it, and shall end with it) only one pure kind of kingship, +―an inevitable or eternal kind, crowned or not,―the kingship, namely, +which consists in a stronger moral state and truer thoughtful state +than that of others, enabling you, therefore, to guide or to raise them. +Observe that word “state” we have got into a loose way of using it. It +means literally the standing and stability of a thing; and you have the +full force of it in the derived word “statue”―“the immovable thing.” +A king's majesty or “state,” then, and the right of his kingdom to be +called a State, depends on the movelessness of both,―without tremor, +without quiver of balance, established and enthroned upon a foundation +of eternal law which nothing can alter or overthrow. + +Believing that all literature and all education are only useful so +far as they tend to confirm this calm, beneficent, and therefore kingly, +power,―first over ourselves, and, through ourselves, over all around +us,―I am now going to ask you to consider with me further, what special +portion or kind of this royal authority, arising out of noble education, +may rightly be possessed by women; and how far they also are called to a +true queenly power,―not in their households merely, but over all within +their sphere. And in what sense, if they rightly understood and exercised +this royal or gracious influence, the order and beauty induced by such +benignant power would justify us in speaking of the territories over which +each of them reigned as ‘Queens' Gardens.’ + +Here still is the true critical style, with exact definitions; but the +whole argument is a metaphor, and the object of the criticism is to +rouse feelings that will lead to action. + +It will be observed that words which by definition are to be taken in +some sort of technical sense are distinguished to the eye in some way. +Matthew Arnold used italics. Ruskin first places “state” within quotation +marks, and then, when he uses the word in a still different sense, +he writes it with a capital letter―State. Capitalization is perhaps +the most common way for designating common words when used in a special +sense which is defined by the writer―or defined by implication. This is +the explanation of the capital letters with which the writings of Carlyle +are filled. He constantly endeavors to make words mean more than, or +something different from, the meaning they usually have. + +The peculiar embellishments of the critical writer are epigram, paradox, +and satire. An _epigram_ is a very short phrase or sentence which is +so full of implied meaning or suggestion that it catches the attention +at once, and remains in the memory easily. The _paradox_ is something +of the same sort on a larger scale. It is a statement that we can +hardly believe to be true, since it seems at first sight to be +self-contradictory, or to contradict well known truths or laws; but +on examination we find that in a peculiar sense it is strictly true. +_Satire_ is a variation of humor peculiarly adapted to criticism, since +it is intended to make the common idea ridiculous when compared with the +ideas which the critic is trying to bring out: it is a sort of argument +by force of stinging points. We may find an example of satire in its +perfection in Swift, especially in his “Gulliver's Travels”―since these +are satires the point of which we can appreciate to-day. Oscar Wilde +was peculiarly given to epigram, and in his plays especially we may find +epigram carried to the same excess that the balanced structure is carried +by Macaulay. More moderate epigram may be found in Emerson and Carlyle. +Paradox is something that we should use only on special occasion. + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE STYLE OF FICTION: + +Narrative, Description, and Dialogue. + +Dickens. + +In fiction there are three different kinds of writing which must be blended +with a fine skill, and this fact makes fiction so much the more difficult +than any other sort of writing. History is largely narrative, pure and +simple, newspaper articles are description, dramas are dialogue, but +fiction must unite in a way peculiar to itself the niceties of all three. + +We must take each style separately and master it thoroughly before +trying to combine the three in a work of fiction. The simplest is +narrative, and consists chiefly in the ability to tell a plain story +straight on to the end, just as in conversation Neighbor Gossip comes +and tells a long story to her friend the Listener. A writer will gain +this skill if he practise on writing out tales or stories just as nearly +as possible as a child would do it, supposing the child had a sufficient +vocabulary. Letter-writing, when one is away from home and wishes +to tell his intimate friends all that has happened to him, is practice +of just this sort, and the best practice. + +Newspaper articles are more descriptive than any other sort of writing. +You have a description of a new invention, of a great fire, of a +prisoner at the bar of justice. It is not quite so spontaneous as +narrative. Children seldom describe, and the newspaper man finds +difficulty in making what seems a very brief tale into a column article +until he can weave description as readily as he breathes. + +Dialogue in a story is by no means the same as the dialogue of a play: +it ought rather to be a description of a conversation, and very seldom +is it a full report of what is said on each side. + +Description is used in its technical sense to designate the presentation +of a scene without reference to events; narrative is a description +of events as they have happened, a dialogue is a description of +conversation. Fiction is essentially a descriptive art, and quite +as much is it descriptive in dialogue as in any other part. + +The best way to master dialogue as an element by itself is to study the +novels of writers like Dickens, Thackeray, or George Eliot. Dialogue has +its full development only in the novel, and it is here and not in short +stories that the student of fiction should study it. The important points +to be noticed are that only characteristic and significant speeches are +reproduced. When the conversation gives only facts that should be known +to the reader it is thrown into the indirect or narrative form, and +frequently when the impression that a conversation makes is all that +is important, this impression is described in general terms instead of +in a detailed report of the conversation itself. + +So much for the three different modes of writing individually +considered. The important and difficult point comes in the balanced +combination of the three, not in the various parts of the story, but in +each single paragraph. Henry James in his paper on “The Art of Fiction,” +says very truly that every descriptive passage is at the same time +narrative, and every dialogue is in its essence also descriptive. The +truth is, the writer of stories has a style of his own, which we may call +the narrative-descriptive-dialogue style, which is a union in one and +the same sentence of all three sorts of writing. In each sentence, to +be sure, narrative or description or dialogue will predominate; but still +the narrative is always present in the description, and the description +in the dialogue, as Mr. James says; and if you take a paragraph this fact +will appear more clearly, and if you take three or four paragraphs, or a +whole story, the fusion of all three styles in the same words is clearly +apparent. + +It is impossible to give fixed rules for the varying proportion of +description, narration, or dialogue in any given passage. The writer +must guide himself entirely by the impression in his own mind. He sees +with his mind's eye a scene and events happening in it. As he describes +this from point to point he constantly asks himself, what method of +using words will be most effective here? He keeps the impression always +closely in mind. He does not wander from it to put in a descriptive +passage or a clever bit of dialogue or a pleasing narrative: he follows +out his description of the impression with faithful accuracy, thinking +only of being true to his own conception, and constantly ransacking his +whole knowledge of language to get the best expression, whatever it may +be. Now it may be a little descriptive touch, now a sentence or two out +of a conversation, now plain narration of events. Dialogue is the most +expansive and tiring, and should frequently be relieved by the condensed +narrative, which is simple and easy reading. Description should seldom +be given in chunks, but rather in touches of a brief and delicate kind, +and with the aim of being suggestive rather than full and detailed. + +Humor, and especially good humor, are indispensable to the most +successful works of fiction. Above all other kinds of writing, +fiction must win the heart of the reader. And this requires that the +heart of the writer should be tender and sympathetic. Harsh critics +call this quality sentiment, and even sentimentality. Dickens had it +above all other writers, and it is probable that this popularity has +never been surpassed. Scott succeeded by his splendid descriptions, but +no one can deny that he was also one of the biggest hearted men in the +world. And Thackeray, with all his reserve, had a heart as tender and +sympathetic as was ever borne by so polished a gentleman. + +As an almost perfect example of the blending of narrative, description, +and dialogue, all welded into an effective whole by the most delicate +and winning sentiment, we offer the following selection from +Barbox Bros. & Co., in “Mugby Junction.” + +POLLY. + +By Charles Dickens. + +Although he had arrived at his journey's end for the day at noon, he +had since insensibly walked about the town so far and so long that the +lamplighters were now at their work in the streets, and the shops were +sparkling up brilliantly. Thus reminded to turn towards his quarters, +he was in the act of doing so, when a very little hand crept into his, +and a very little voice said: + +“O! If you please, I am lost!” + +He looked down, and saw a very little fair-haired girl. + +“Yes,” she said, confirming her words with a serious nod. “I am, indeed. +I am lost.” + +Greatly perplexed, he stopped, looked about him for help, descried none, +and said, bending low: + +“Where do you live, my child?” + +“I don't know where I live,” she returned. “I am lost.” + +“What is your name?” + +“Polly.” + +“What is your other name?” + +The reply was prompt, but unintelligible. + +Imitating the sound, as he caught it, he hazarded the guess, “Trivits?” + +“O no!” said the child, shaking her head. “Nothing like that.” + +“Say it again, little one” + +An unpromising business. For this time it had quite a different sound. + +He made the venture: “Paddens?” + +“O no!” said the child. “Nothing like that.” + +“Once more. Let us try it again, dear.” + +A most hopeless business. This time it swelled into four syllables. +“It can't be Tappitarver?” $ªזđ said Barbox Brothers, rubbing his +head with his hat in discomfiture. + +“No! It ain't,” the child quietly assented. + +On her trying this unfortunate name once more, with extraordinary +efforts at distinction, it swelled into eight syllables at least. + +“Ah! I think,” said Barbox Brothers, with a desperate air of +resignation, “that we had better give it up.” + +“But I am lost,” said the child nestling her little hand more closely +in his, “and you'll take care of me, won't you?” + +If ever a man were disconcerted by division between compassion on the one +hand, and the very imbecility of irresolution on the other, here the man +was. “Lost!” he repeated, looking down at the child. “I am sure I am. +What is to be done!” + +“Where do _you_ live?” asked the child, looking up at him wistfully. + +“Over there,” he answered, pointing vaguely in the direction of the hotel. + +“Hadn't we better go there?” said the child. + +“Really,” he replied, “I don't know but what we had.” + +So they set off, hand in hand;―he, through comparison of himself +against his little companion, with a clumsy feeling on him as if he had +just developed into a foolish giant;―she, clearly elevated in her own +tiny opinion by having got him so neatly out of his embarrassment. + +“We are going to have dinner when we get there, I suppose?” said Polly. + +“Well,” he rejoined, “I―yes, I suppose we are.” + +“Do you like your dinner?” asked the child. + +“Why, on the whole,” said Barbox Brothers, “yes, I think I do.” + +“I do mine,” said Polly “Have you any brothers and sisters?” + +“No, have you?” + +“Mine are dead.” + +“O!” said Barbox Brothers. With that absurd sense of unwieldiness of +mind and body weighing him down, he would not have known how to pursue +the conversation beyond this curt rejoinder, but that the child was +always ready for him. + +“What,” she asked, turning her soft hand coaxingly in his, “are you going +to do to amuse me, after dinner?” + +“Upon my soul, Polly,” exclaimed Barbox Brothers, very much at a loss, +“I have not the slightest idea!” + +“Then I tell you what,” said Polly. “Have you got any cards at the house?” + +“Plenty,” said Barbox Brothers, in a boastful vein. + +“Very well. Then I'll build houses, and you shall look at me. You +mustn't blow, you know.” + +“O no!” said Barbox Brothers. “No, no, no! No blowing! Blowing's +not fair.” + +He flattered himself that he had said this pretty well for an idiotic +monster; but the child, instantly perceiving the awkwardness of his +attempt to adapt himself to her level, utterly destroyed his hopeful +opinion of himself by saying, compassionately: “What a funny man you are!” + +Feeling, after this melancholy failure, as if he every minute grew +bigger and heavier in person, and weaker in mind, Barbox gave himself +up for a bad job. No giant ever submitted more meekly to be led in +triumph by all-conquering Jack, than he to be bound in slavery to Polly. + +“Do you know any stories?” she asked him. + +He was reduced to the humiliating confession: + +“What a dunce you must be, mustn't you?” said Polly. + +He was reduced to the humiliating confession: + +“Would you like me to teach you a story? But you must remember it, +you know, and be able to tell it right to somebody else afterwards?” + +He professed that it would afford him the highest mental gratification +to be taught a story, and that he would humbly endeavor to retain it in +his mind. Whereupon Polly, giving her hand a new little turn in his, +expressive of settling down for enjoyment, commenced a long romance, +of which every relishing clause began with the words: “So this,” or +“And so this.” As, “So this boy;” or, “So this fairy;” or “And so this +pie was four yards round, and two yards and a quarter deep.” The interest +of the romance was derived from the intervention of this fairy to punish +this boy for having a greedy appetite. To achieve which purpose, this +fairy made this pie, and this boy ate and ate and ate, and his cheeks +swelled and swelled and swelled. There were many tributary circumstances, +but the forcible interest culminated in the total consumption of this pie, +and the bursting of this boy. Truly he was a fine sight, Barbox Brothers, +with serious attentive face, an ear bent down, much jostled on the +pavements of the busy town, but afraid of losing a single incident of +the epic, lest he should be examined in it by-and-by and found deficient. + +Exercise. Rewrite this little story, locating the scene in your own +town and describing yourself in the place of Barbox Bros. Make as few +changes in the wording as possible. + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE EPIGRAMMATIC STYLE: + +Stephen Crane. + +A peculiarly modern style is that in which very short sentences are used +for pungent effect. If to this characteristic of short sentences we +add a slightly unusual though perfectly obvious use of common words, we +have what has been called the “epigrammatic style,” though it does not +necessarily have any epigrams in it. It is the modern newspaper and +advertisement writer's method of emphasis; and if it could be used in +moderation, or on occasion, it would be extremely effective. But to use +it at all times and for all subjects is a vice distinctly to be avoided. + +Stephen Crane's “The Red Badge of Courage” is written almost wholly in +this style. If we read three or four chapters of this story we may see +how tiring it is for the mind to be constantly jerked along. At the +same time, in a brief advertising booklet probably no other style that +is sufficiently simple and direct would be as likely to attract immediate +attention and hold it for the short time usually required to read an +advertisement. + +Crane's style has a literary turn and quality which will not be found +in the epigrammatic advertisement, chiefly because Crane is descriptive, +while the advertiser is merely argumentative. However, the +advertisement writer will learn the epigrammatic style most surely +and quickly by studying the literary form of it. + +From “The Red Badge of Courage.” + +The blue haze of evening was upon the field. The lines of forest were +long purple shadows. One cloud lay along the western sky partly +smothering the red. + +As the youth left the scene behind him, he heard the guns suddenly roar +out. He imagined them shaking in black rage. They belched and howled +like brass devils guarding a gate. The soft air was filled with the +tremendous remonstrance. With it came the shattering peal of opposing +infantry. Turning to look behind him, he could see sheets of orange +light illumine the shadowy distance. There were subtle and sudden +lightnings in the far air. At times he thought he could see heaving +masses of men. + +He hurried on in the dusk. The day had faded until he could barely +distinguish place for his feet. The purple darkness was filled with men +who lectured and jabbered. Sometimes he could see them gesticulating +against the blue and somber sky. There seemed to be a great ruck of men +and munitions spread about in the forest and in the fields… + +His thoughts as he walked fixed intently upon his hurt. There was a +cool, liquid feeling about it and he imagined blood moving slowly down +under his hair. His head seemed swollen to a size that made him think +his neck to be inadequate. + +The new silence of his wound made much worriment. The little blistering +voices of pain that had called out from his scalp were, he thought, +definite in their expression of danger. By them he believed that he could +measure his plight. But when they remained ominously silent he became +frightened and imagined terrible fingers that clutched into his brain. + +Amid it he began to reflect upon various incidents and conditions of the +past. He bethought him of certain meals his mother had cooked at home, +in which those dishes of which he was particularly fond had occupied +prominent positions. He saw the spread table. The pine walls of +the kitchen were glowing in the warm light from the stove. Too, he +remembered how he and his companions used to go from the school-house +to the bank of a shaded pool. He saw his clothes in disorderly array +upon the grass of the bank. He felt the swash of the fragrant water +upon his body. The leaves of the overhanging maple rustled with melody +in the wind of youthful summer. + +Exercise. + +After reading this passage over a dozen times very slowly and carefully, +and copying it phrase by phrase, continue the narrative in Crane's style +through two more paragraphs, bringing the story of this day's doing to +some natural conclusion. + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE POWER OF SIMPLICITY: + +The Bible, Franklin, Lincoln. + +We have all heard that the simplest style is the strongest; and no doubt +most of us have wondered how this could be, as we turned over in our +minds examples of what seemed to us simplicity, comparing them with the +rhetorical, the lofty, and the sublime passages we could call to mind. + +Precisely this wonder was in the minds of a number of very well +educated people who gathered to attend the dedicatory exercises of the +Gettysburg monument, and Abraham Lincoln gave them one of the very finest +illustrations in the whole range of the world's history, of how simplicity +can be stronger than rhetoric. Edward Everett was the orator of the day, +and he delivered a most polished and brilliant oration. When he sat down +the friends of Lincoln regretted that this homely countryman was to be +asked to “say a few words,” since they felt that whatever he might say +would be a decided anticlimax. The few words that he did utter are the +immortal “Gettysburg speech,” by far the shortest great oration on record. +Edward Everett afterward remarked, “I wish I could have produced in two +hours the effect that Lincoln produced in two minutes.” The tremendous +effect of that speech could have been produced in no other way than by the +power of simplicity, which permits the compression of more thought into a +few words than any other style-form. All rhetoric is more or less windy. +The quality of a simple style is that in order to be anything at all it +must be solid metal all the way through. + +The Bible, the greatest literary production in the world as atheists and +Christians alike admit, is our supreme example of the wonderful power +of simplicity, and it more than any other one book has served to mould +the style of great writers. To take a purely literary passage, what could +be more affecting, yet more simple, than these words from Ecclesiastes? + +From “Ecclesiastes.” + +Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while the evil days +come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no +pleasure in them; while the sun, or the light, or the moon, or the +stars, be not darkened, nor the clouds return after the rain: In the day +when the keepers of the house shall tremble, and the strong men shall +bow themselves, and the grinders cease because they are few, and those +that look out of the windows be darkened; and the doors shall be shut +in the streets, when the sound of the grinding is low, and he shall rise +up at the voice of the bird, and all the daughters of music shall be +brought low; also when they shall be afraid of that which is high, +and fears shall be in the way, and the almond tree shall flourish, and +the grasshoppers shall be a burden, and desire shall fail: because man +goeth to his long home, and the mourners go about the streets: Or ever +the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher +be broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern. Then shall +the dust return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall return unto +God who gave it. + +This is the sort of barbaric poetry that man in his natural and original +state might be supposed to utter. It lacks the nice logic and fine +polish of Greek culture; indeed its grammar is somewhat confused. But +there is a higher logic than the logic of grammar, namely the logic of +life and suffering. The man who wrote this passage had put a year of +his existence into every phrase; and that is why it happens that we can +find here more phrases quoted by everybody than we can even in the best +passage of similar length in Shakspere or any other modern writer. + +We see in proverbs how by the power of simplicity an enormous amount of +thought can be packed into a single line. Some of these have taken +thousands of years to grow; and because so much time is required in the +making of them, our facile modern writers never produce any. Their +fleeting epigrams appear to be spurious coin the moment they are +placed side by side with Franklin's epigrams, for instance. Franklin +worked his proverbs into the vacant spaces in his almanac during a +period of twenty-five years, and then collected all those proverbs +into a short paper entitled, “The Way to Wealth.” It may be added, +also, that he did not even originate most of these sayings, but only +gave a new stamp to what he found in Hindu and Arabic records. For all +that, Poor Richard's Almanac is more likely to become immortal than even +Franklin's own name and fame. + +The history of Bacon's essays is another fine example of what simplicity +can effect in the way of greatness. These essays were originally +nothing more than single sentences jotted down in a notebook, probably +as an aid to conversation. How many times they were worked over we have +no means of knowing; but we have three printed editions of the essays, +each of which is immensely developed from what went before. + +In reading the following lines from Franklin, let us reflect that not +less than a year went to the writing of every phrase that can be called +great; and that if we could spend a year in writing a single sentence, +it might be as well worth preserving as these proverbs. Some men have +been made famous by one sentence, usually because it somehow expressed +the substance of a lifetime. + +From “Poor Richard's Almanac.” + +Father Abraham stood up and replied, “If you would have my advice, I will +give it you in short; _for a word to the wise is enough, and essay words +won't fill a bushel,_ as POOR RICHARD says.” + +They all joined him and desired him to speak his mind; and gathering them +around him, he proceeded as follows: + +Friends, says he, and neighbors! The taxes are indeed very heavy; and if +those laid on by the Government were the only ones we had to pay, we might +the more easily discharge them; but we have many others, and much more +grievous to some of us. We are taxed twice as much by our idleness, +three times as much by our Pride, and four times as much by our Folly; +and from these taxes the Commissioners cannot ease or deliver us by +allowing an abatement. However, let us hearken to good advice, and +something may be done for us, _God helps them that helps themselves,_ as +POOR RICHARD says in his _Almanac_ of 1733. It would be thought a hard +government that should tax its people one tenth part of their time, to be +employed in its service. But idleness taxes many of us much more; if we +reckon all that is spent in absolute sloth, or doing of nothing; with that +which is spent in idle employments or amusements that amounts to nothing. +Sloth, by bringing on disease, absolutely shortens life. Sloth, +_like Rust, consumes faster than Labor_ wean; while _the used keg +is always bright,_ as POOR RICHARD says. _But dost thou love Life? +Then do_ not _squander time_! for _that's the stuff Life is made of,_ +as POOR RICHARD says. + +How much more time than is necessary do we spend in sleep? forgetting that +the _sleeping fox catches no poultry;_ and that _there will be sleeping +enough in the grave, as_ POOR RICHARD says. + +If Time be of all things the most precious, wasting _of Time must be_ +(as POOR RICHARD says) _the greatest prodigality;_ and since, as he +elsewhere tells us, _Lost time is never found again;_ and _what we_ call +Time enough! always proves little enough, let us then up and be doing, +and doing to the purpose: so, by diligence, shall we do more with less +perplexity. _Sloth makes all things difficult, but Industry all things +easy,_ as POOR RICHARD says: and _He_ that _riseth late, must trot all +day; and shall scarce overtake his business at night. While Laziness +travels so slowly, that Poverty soon over-takes him, as we read in_ POOR +RICHARD who adds, _Drive thy business! Let not that drive thee_! and + _Early to bed and early to rise, + Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise_. + +As Franklin extracted these sayings one by one out of the Arabic and +other sources, in each case giving the phrases a new turn, and as Bacon +jotted down in his notebook every witty word he heard, so we will make +reputations for ourselves if we are always picking up the good things +of others and using them whenever we can. + +THE GETTYSBURG SPEECH + +By Abraham Lincoln. + +Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this +continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the +proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a +great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived +and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield +of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a +final resting-place for those who here gave their lives that that nation +might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. + +But in a larger sense we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot +hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, +have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract. The +world will little note, nor long remember, what we, say here, but it can +never forget what they did here. It is for us, the living, rather to be +dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have +thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to +the great task remaining before us,―that from these honored dead we take +increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure +of devotion,―that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have +died in vain,―that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of +freedom,―and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, +shall not perish from the earth. + + +CHAPTER XII. + +HARMONY OF STYLE: + +Irving and Hawthorne. + +A work of literary art is like a piece of music: one false note makes a +discord that spoils the effect of the whole. But it is useless to give +rules for writing an harmonious style. When one sits down to write he +should give his whole thought and energy to expressing himself forcibly +and with the vital glow of an overpowering interest. An interesting +thought expressed with force and suggestiveness is worth volumes of +commonplaces couched in the most faultless language. The writer should +never hesitate in choosing between perfectness of language and vigor. +On the first writing verbal perfection should be sacrificed without a +moment's hesitation. But when a story or essay has once been written, +the writer will turn his attention to those small details of style. +He must harmonize his language. He must polish. It is one of the most +tedious processes in literature, and to the novice the most difficult on +which to make a beginning. Yet there is nothing more surely a matter of +labor _and_ not of genius. It is for this that one masters grammar and +rhetoric, and studies the individual uses of words. Carried to an extreme +it is fatal to vitality of style. But human nature is more often prone to +shirk, and this is the thing that is passed over from laziness. If you +find one who declaims against the utmost care in verbal polish, you will +find a lazy man. + +The beginner, however, rarely knows how to set to work, and this chapter +is intended to give some practical hints. We assume that the student +knows perfectly well what good grammar is, as well as the leading +principles of rhetoric, and could easily correct his faults in these +if he should see them. There are several distinct classes of errors to +look for: faults of grammar, such as the mixing of modes and tenses, and +the agreement of verbs and particles in number when collective nouns are +referred to; faults of rhetoric, such as the mixing of figures of speech; +faults of taste, such as the use of words with a disagreeable or misleading +atmosphere about them, though their strict meaning makes their use correct +enough; faults of repetition of the same word in differing senses in +the same sentence or paragraph; faults of tediousness of phrasing or +explanation; faults of lack of clearness in expressing the exact meaning; +faults of sentimental use of language, that is, falling into fine phrases +which have no distinct meaning―the most discordant fault of all; faults of +digression in the structure of the composition. + +This list is comprehensive of the chief points to look for in verbal +revision. Faults of grammar need no explanation here. But we would say, +Beware. The most skilled writers are almost constantly falling into errors +of this kind, for they are the most subtle and elusive of all, verbal +failings. There is, indeed, but one certain way to be sure that they are +all removed, and that is by parsing every word by grammatical formula it +is a somewhat tedious method, but by practice one may weigh each word with +rapidity, and it is only by considering each word alone that one may be +sure that nothing is passed over. In the same way each phrase or sentence, +or figure of speech, should be weighed separately, for its rhetorical +accuracy. + +Faults of taste are detected by a much more delicate process than the +application of formulæ, but they almost invariably arise (if ones native +sense is keen) from the use of a word in a perfectly legitimate and pure +sense, when the public attaches to it an atmosphere (let us call it) which +is vulgar or disagreeable. In such cases the word should be sacrificed, +for the atmosphere of a word carries a hundred times more weight with the +common reader than the strict and logical meaning. For instance, the word +_mellow_ is applied to over-ripe fruit, and to light of a peculiarly soft +quality, if one is writing for a class of people who are familiar with +the poets, it is proper enough to use the word in its poetic sense; but +if the majority of the readers of one's work always associate _mellow_ +with over-ripe fruit, to use it in its poetic sense would be disastrous. + +The repetition of the same word many times in succeeding phrases is a +figure of speech much used by certain recognized writers, and is a most +valuable one. Nor should one be afraid of repetition whenever clearness +makes it necessary. But the repetition of the same word in differing +senses in adjoining phrases is a fault to be strictly guarded against. +The writer was himself once guilty of perpetrating the following +abomination: “The _form_ which represented her, though idealized +somewhat, is an actual likeness elevated by the force of the sculptor's +love into a _form_ of surpassing beauty. It is her _form_ reclining on +a couch, only a soft, thin drapery covering her transparent _form,_ her +head slightly raised and turned to one side, and having concentrated in +its form and posture the height of the whole figure's beauty.” Careful +examination will show that form, used five times in this paragraph, +has at least three very slightly differing meanings, a fact which +greatly adds to the objectionableness of the recurrence of the sound. + +A writer who has a high regard for accuracy and completeness of +expression is very liable to fall into tediousness in his explanations, +he realizes that he is tedious, but he asks, “How can I say what I have +to say without being tedious?” Tediousness means that what is said is +not worth saying at all, or that it can be said in fewer words. The best +method of condensation is the use of some pregnant phrase or comparison +which rapidly suggests the meaning without actually stating it. The art +of using suggestive phrases is the secret of condensation. + +But in the rapid telling of a story or description of a scene, perhaps +no fault is so surely fatal as a momentary lapse into meaningless fine +phrases, or sentimentality. In writing a vivid description the author +finds his pen moving even after he has finished putting down every +significant detail. He is not for the moment sure that he has finished, +and thinks that to complete the picture, to “round it up,” a few general +phrases are necessary. But when he re-reads what he has written, he sees +that it fails, for some unknown reason, of the power of effect on which +he had counted. His glowing description seems tawdry, or overwrought. +He knows that it is not possible that the whole is bad: + +But where is the difficulty? + +Almost invariably the trouble will be found to be in some false phrase, +for one alone is enough to spoil a whole production. It is as if a +single flat or sharp note is introduced into a symphony, producing a +discord which rings through the mind during the whole performance. + +To detect the fault, go over the work with the utmost care, weighing +each item of the description, and asking the question, Is that an +absolutely necessary and true element of the picture I had in mind? +Nine times out of ten the writer will discover some sentence or phrase +which may be called a “glittering generality,” or that is a weak +repetition of what has already been well said, or that is simply “fine” +language―sentimentality of some sort. Let him ruthlessly cut away +that paragraph, sentence, or phrase, and then re-read. It is almost +startling to observe how the removal or addition of a single phrase +will change the effect of a description covering many pages. + +But often a long composition will lack harmony of structure, a fault +very different from any we have mentioned, Hitherto we have spoken of +definite faults that must be cut out. It is as often necessary to make +additions. + +In the first place, each paragraph must be balanced within itself. The +language must be fluent and varied, and each thought or suggestion must +flow easily and smoothly into the next, unless abruptness is used for a +definite purpose. Likewise each successive stage of a description or +dialogue must have its relative as well as its intrinsic value. The +writer must study carefully the proportions of the parts, and nicely +adjust and harmonize each to the other. Every paragraph, every sentence, +every phrase and word, should have its own distinct and clear meaning, +and the writer should never allow himself to be in doubt as to the need +or value of this or that. + +To secure harmony of style and structure is a matter of personal +judgment and study. Though rules for it cannot be given, it will be +found to be a natural result of following all the principles of grammar, +rhetoric, and composition. But the hard work involved in securing this +proportion and harmony of structure can never be avoided or evaded without +disastrous consequences. Toil, toil, toil! That should be every writer's +motto if he aspires to success, even in the simplest forms of writing. + +The ambitious writer will not learn harmony of style from any single +short selection, however perfect such a composition may be in itself. +It requires persistent reading, as well as very thoughtful reading, +of the masters of perfect style. Two such masters are especially to be +recommended,―Irving and Hawthorne. And among their works, the best +for such study are “The Sketchbook,” especially Rip Van Winkle and +Legend of Sleepy Hollow, by Irving, and “The Scarlet Letter” and such +short stories as “The Great Stone Face,” by Hawthorne. To these may be +added Thackeray's “Vanity Fair,” Scott's “Ivanhoe,” and Lamb's “Essays +of Elia.” These books should be read and re-read many times; and +whenever any composition is to be tested, it may conveniently be +compared as to style to some part of one or other of these books. + +In conclusion we would say that the study of too many masterpieces is +an error. It means that none of them are fully absorbed or mastered. +The selections here given,* together with the volumes recommended above, +may of course be judiciously supplemented if occasion requires; but as a +rule, these will be found ample. Each type should be studied and mastered, +one type after another. It would be a mistake to omit any one, even if it +is a type that does not particularly interest the student, and is one he +thinks he will never wish to use in its purity: mastery of it will enrich +any other style that may be chosen: If it is found useful for shaping no +more than a single sentence, it is to be remembered that that sentence may +shape the destinies of a life. + + *A fuller collection of the masterpieces of style than the present +volume contains may be found in “The Best English Essays,” edited by +Sherwin Cody. + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +IMAGINATION AND REALITY.―THE AUDIENCE. + +So far we have given our attention to style, the effective use of words. + +We will now consider some of those general principles of thought end +expression which are essential to distinctively literary composition; +and first the relation between imagination and reality, or actuality. + +In real life a thousand currents cross each other, and counter cross, +and cross again. Life is a maze of endless continuity, to which, +nevertheless, we desire to find some key. Literature offers us a +picture of life to which there is a key, and by some analogy it suggests +explanations of real life. It is of far more value to be true to the +principles of life than to the outer facts. The outer facts are +fragmentary and uncertain, mere passing suggestions, signs in the +darkness. The principles of life are a clew of thread which may guide +the human judgment through many dark and difficult places. It is to +these that the artistic writer must be true. + +In the real incident the writer sees an idea which he thinks may +illustrate a principle he knows of. The observed fact must illustrate +the principle, but he must shape it to that end. A carver takes a block +of wood and sets out to make a vase. First he cuts away all the useless +parts: The writer should reject all the useless facts connected with his +story and reserve only what illustrates his idea. Often, however, the +carver finds his block of wood too small, or imperfect. Perfect blocks +of wood are rare, and so are perfect stories in real life. The carver +cuts out the imperfect part and fits in a new piece of wood. Perhaps +the whole base of his vase must be made of another piece and screwed on. + +It is quite usual that the whole setting of a story must come from +another source. One has observed life in a thousand different phases, +just as a carver has accumulated about him scores of different pieces +of wood varying in shape and size to suit almost any possible need. +When a carver makes a vase he takes one block for the main portion, +the starting point in his work, and builds up the rest from that. +The writer takes one real incident as the chief one, and perfects it +artistically by adding dozens of other incidents that he has observed. +The writer creates only in the sense that the wood carver creates his +vase. He does not create ideas cut of nothing, any more than the carver +creates the separate blocks of wood. The writer may coin his own soul +into substance for his stories, but creating out of one's mind and +creating out of nothing are two very different things. The writer +observes himself, notices how his mind works, how it behaves under given +circumstances, and that gives him material exactly the same in kind as +that which he gains from observing the working of other people's mind. + +But the carver in fashioning a vase thinks of the effect it will produce +when it is finished, on the mind of his customer or on the mind of any +person who appreciates beauty; and his whole end and aim is for this +result. He cuts out what he thinks will hinder, and puts in what he +thinks will help. He certainly does a great deal more than present +polished specimens of the various kinds of woods he has collected. The +creative writer―who intends to do something more than present polished +specimens of real life―must work on the same plan. He must write for +his realer, for his audience. + +But just what is it to write for an audience? The essential element in +it is some message a somebody. A message is of no value unless it is +to somebody in particular. Shouting messages into the air when you do +not know whether any one is at hand to hear would be equally foolish +whether a writer gave forth his message of inspiration in that way, or +a telegraph boy shouted his message in front of the telegraph off{i}ce +in the hope that the man to whom the message was addressed might be +passing, or that some of him friends might overhear it. + +The newspaper reporter goes to see a fire, finds out all about it, writes +it up, and sends it to his paper. The paper prints it for the readers, +who are anxious to know what the fire was and the damage it did. The +reporter does not write it up in the spirit of doing it for the pleasure +there is in nor does he allow himself to do it in the manner his mood +dictates. He writes so that certain people will get certain facts and +ideas. The facts he had nothing to do with creating, nor did he make the +desire of the people. He was simply a messenger, a purveyor. + +The producer of literature, we have said, must write for an audience; but +he does not go and hunt up his audience, find out its needs, and then tell +to it his story. He simple writes for the audience that he knows, which +others have prepared for him. To know human life, to know what people +really need, is work for a genius. It resembles the building up of a +daily paper, with its patronage and its study of the public pulse. But +the reporter has little or nothing to do with that. Likewise the ordinary +writer should not trouble himself about so large a problem, at least until +he has mastered the simpler ones. Writing for an audience if one wants to +get printed in a certain magazine is writing those things which one finds +by experience the readers of that magazine, as represented in the editor, +want to read. Or one may write with his mind on those readers of the +magazine whom he knows personally. The essential point is that the +effective writer must cease to think of himself when he begins to write, +and turn his mental vision steadily upon the likes or needs of his possible +readers, selecting some definite reader in particular if need be. At any +rate, he must not write vaguely for people he does not know. If he please +these he does know, he may also please many he does not know. The best he +can do is to take the audience he thoroughly understands, though it be an +audience of one, and write for that audience something that will be of +value, in the way of amusement or information or inspiration. + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +THE USE OF MODELS IN WRITING FICTION. + +We have seen how a real incident is worked over into the fundamental +idea for a composition. The same principle ought to hold in the use +of real persons in making the characters in, a novel, or any story +where character-drawing is an important item. In a novel especially, +the characters must be drawn with the greatest care. They must be made +genuine personages. Yet the ill-taste of “putting your friends into a +story” is only less pronounced than the bad art or drawing characters +purely out of the imagination. There is no art in the slavish copying +of persons in real life. Yet it is practically impossible to create +genuine characters in the mind without reference to real life. The +simple solution would seem to be to follow the method of the painter +who uses models, though in so doing he does not make portraits. There +was a time in drawing when the school of “out-of-the-headers” prevailed, +but their work was often grotesque, imperfect, and sometimes utterly +futile in expressing even the idea the artist had in mind. The opposite +extreme in graphic art is photography. The rational use of models is the +happy mean between the two. But the good artist always draws with his eye +on the object, and the good writer should write with his eye on a definite +conception or some real thing or person, from which he varies consciously +and for artistic purpose. + +The ordinary observer sees first the peculiarities of a thing. If he +is looking at an old gentleman he sees a fly sitting upon the bald spot +on his head, a wart on his nose, his collar pulled up behind. But the +trained and artistic observer sees the peculiarly perfect outline of the +old man's features and form, and in the tottering, gait bent shoulders, +and soiled senility a straight, handsome youth, fastidious in his dress +and perfect in his form. Such the old man was once, and all the elements +of his broken youth are clearly visible under the hapless veneer of +time for the one who has an eye to see. This is but one illustration +of many that might be offered. A poor shop girl may have the bearing of +a princess. Among New York illustrators the typical model for a society +girl is a young woman of the most ordinary birth and breeding, misfortunes +which are clearly visible in her personal appearance. But she has the +bearing, the air of the social queen, and to the artist she is that alone. +He does not see the veneer of circumstances, though the real society girl +would see nothing else in her humble artistic rival. + +In drawing characters the writer has a much larger range of models from +which to choose, in one sense. His models are the people he knows by +personal association day by day during various periods of his life, +from childhood up. Each person he has known has left an impression on +his mind, and that impression is the thing he considers. The art of +painting requires the actual presence in physical person of the model, +a limitation the writer fortunately does not have. At the same time, +the artist of the brush can seek new models and bring them into his +studio without taking too much time or greatly inconveniencing himself. +The writer can get new models only by changing his whole mode of life. +Travel is an excellent thing, yet practically it proves inadequate. +The fleeting impressions do not remain, and only what remains steadily +and permanently in the mind can be used as a model by the novelist. + +But during a lifetime one accumulates a large number of models simply +by habitually observing everything that comes in one's way. When the +writer takes up {the} pen to produce a story, he searches through his +mental collection for a suitable model. Sometimes it is necessary +to use several models in drawing the same character, one for this +characteristic, and another for that. But in writing the novelist +should have his eye on his model just as steadily and persistently as +the painter, for so alone can he catch the spirit and inner truth of +nature; and art. If it is anything, is the interpretation of nature. +The ideal character must be made the interpretation of the real +one, not a photographic copy, not idealization or glorification or +caricature, unless the idealization or glorification or caricature +has a definite value in the interpretation. + + +CHAPTER XV. + +CONTRAST. + +In all effective writing contrast is far more than a figure of speech: +it is an essential element in making strength. A work of literary art +without contrast may have all the elements of construction, style, and +originality of idea, but it will be weak, narrow, limp. The truth is, +contrast is the measure of the breadth of one's observation. We often +think of it as a figure of speech, a method of language which we use +for effect. A better view of it is as a measure of breadth. You have +a dark, wicked man on one side, and a fair, sunny, sweet woman on +the other. These are two extremes, a contrast, and they include all +between. If a writer understands these extremes he understands all +between, and if in a story he sets up one type against another he in +a way marks out those extremes as the boundaries of his intellectual +field, and he claims all within them. If the contrast is great, he +claims a great field; if feeble, then he has only a narrow field. + +Contrast and one's power of mastering it indicate one's breadth of +thought and especially the breadth of one's thinking in a particular +creative attempt. Every writer should strive for the greatest possible +breadth, for the greater his breadth the more people there are who will +be interested in his work. Narrow minds interest a few people, and +broad minds interest correspondingly many. The best way to cultivate +breadth is to cultivate the use of contrast in your writing. + +But to assume a breadth which one does not have, to pass from one +extreme to another without perfect mastery of all that lies between, +results in being ridiculous. It is like trying to extend the range +of the voice too far. One desires a voice with the greatest possible +range; but if in forcing the voice up one breaks into a falsetto, +the effect is disastrous. So in seeking range of character expression +one must be very careful not to break into a falsetto, while straining +the true voice to its utmost in order to extend its range. + +Let us now pass from the contrast of characters and situations of +the most general kind to contrasts of a more particular sort. Let us +consider the use of language first. Light conversation must not last +too long or it becomes monotonous, as we all know. But if the writer +can pass sometimes rapidly from tight conversation to serious narrative, +both the light dialogue and the serious seem the more expressive for +the contrast. The only thing to be considered is, can you do it with +perfect ease and grace? If you cannot, better let it alone. Likewise, +the long sentence may be used in one paragraph, and a fine contrast shown +by using very short sentences in the next. + +But let us distinguish between variety and contrast. The writer may pass +from long sentences to short ones when the reader has tired of long ones, +and _vice versa,_ he may pass from a tragic character to a comic one in +order to rest the mind of the reader. In this there will be no very +decided contrast. But when the two extremes are brought close together, +are forced together perhaps, then we have an electric effect. To use +contrast well requires great skill in the handling of language, for +contrast means passing from one extreme to another in a very short space, +and if this, passing is not done gracefully, the whole effect is spoiled. + +What has been said of contrast in language, character, etc., may also +be applied to contrasts in any small detail, incident, or even simile. +Let us examine a few of the contrasts in Maupassant, for he is a great +adept in their use. + +Let us take the opening paragraph of “The Necklace” and see what a +marvel of contrast it is: “She was one of those pretty and charming +girls who are sometimes, as if by a mistake of destiny, born in a family +of clerks. She had no dowry, no expectations, no means of being known, +understood, loved, wedded, by any rich and distinguished man; and she +had let herself be married to a little clerk in the Ministry of Public +Instruction.” Notice “pretty and charming”― “family of clerks.” These +two contrasted ideas (implied ideas, of course) are gracefully linked by +“as if by a mistake of destiny.” Then the author goes on to mention what +the girl did not have in a way that implies that she ought to have had +all these things. She could not be wedded to “any rich and distinguished +man”; “she let herself be married to a little clerk.” + +The whole of the following description of Madam Loisel is one mass of +clever contrasts of the things she might have been, wanted to be, with +what she was and had. A little farther on, however, we get a different +sort of contrast. Though poor, she has a rich friend. Then her husband +brings home an invitation at which he is perfectly delighted. Immediately +she is shown wretched, a striking contrast. He is shown patient; she is +irritated. She is selfish in wishing a dress and finery; he is unselfish +in giving up his gun and the shooting. + +With the ball the author gives us a description of Madam Loisel having +all she had dreamed of having. Her hopes are satisfied completely, it +appears, until suddenly, when she is about to go away, the fact of her +lack of wraps contrasts tellingly with her previous attractiveness. +These two little descriptions―one of the success of the ball, one of +hurrying away in shame, the wretched cab and all―are a most forcible +contrast, and most skilfully and naturally represented. The previous +happiness is further set into relief by the utter wretchedness she +experiences upon discovering the loss of the necklace. + +Then we have her new life of hard work, which we contrast in mind not only +with what she had really been having, but with that which she had dreamed +of having, had seemed about to realize, and had suddenly lost for ever. + +Then at last we have the contrast, elaborate, strongly drawn and telling, +between Madam Loisel after ten years and her friend, who represents in +flesh and blood what she might have been. Then at the end comes the short, +sharp contrast of paste and diamonds. + +In using contrast one does not have to search for something to set up +against something else. Every situation has a certain breadth, it has +two sides, whether they are far apart or near together. To give the +real effect of a conception it is necessary to pass from one side to +the other very rapidly and frequently, for only in so doing can one keep +the whole situation in mind. One must see the whole story, both sides +and all in between, at the same time. The more one sees at the same +time, the more of life one grasps and the more invigorating is the +composition. The use of contrast is eminently a matter of acquired +skill, and when one has become skilful he uses contrast unconsciously +and with the same effort that he makes his choice of words. + + + +APPENDIX + +Errors in the Use of Words. + +_All of_. Omit the _of_. + +_Aggravate_. Does not mean _provoke_ or _irritate_. + +_Among one another_. This phrase is illogical. + +_And who_. Omit the _and_ unless there is a preceding _who_ to which +this is an addition. + +_Another from_. Should be _another then_. + +_Anyhow,_ meaning _at any rate,_ is not to be used in literary composition. + +_Any place_. Incorrect for _anywhere_. + +_At_. We live _at_ a small place, _in_ a large one, and usually _arrive +at,_ not _in_. + +_Avocation_. Not to be confused with _vocation,_ a main calling, since +_avocation_ is a side calling. + +_Awful_ does not mean _very_. + +_Back out_. An Americanism for _withdraw_. + +_Balance_. Not proper for _remainder,_ but only for _that which +makes equal_. + +_Beginner_. Never say _new beginner_. + +_Beside; besides_. The first means _by the side of,_ the second _in +addition to_. + +_Be that as it will_. Say, _be that as it may_. + +_Blame on_. We may lay the _blame on,_ but we cannot _blame it on_ +any one. + +_But what_. Should be _but that_. + +_Calculate_. Do not use for _intend_. + +_Can_. Do not use for _may_. “_May_ I go with you?” not “_Can_ I go +with you?” + +_Clever_. Does not mean _good-natured,_ but _talented_. + +_Demean_. Means to _behave,_ not to _debase_ or _degrade_. + +_Disremember_. Now obsolete. + +_Don't_. Not to be used for _doesn't,_ after a singular subject +such as he. + +_Else_. Not follow by _but_; say, “nothing else _than_ pride.” + +_Expect_. Do not use for _think,_ as in “I _expect_ it is so.” + +_Fetch_. Means to _go and bring,_ hence _go and fetch_ is wrong. + +_Fix_. Not used for _arrange_ or the like, as “fix the furniture.” + +_From_. Say, “He died of cholera,” not _from_. + +_Got_. Properly you “have _got_” what you made an effort to get, not what +you merely “have.” + +_Graduate_. Say, “The man _is graduated_ from college,” and “The college +_graduates_ the man.” + +_Had ought. Ought_ never requires any part of the verb _to have_. + +_Had rather, had better_. Disputed, but used by good writers. + +_Handy_. Does not mean near _by_. + +_In so far as_. Omit the _in_. + +_Kind of_. After these two words omit _a,_ and say, “What kind of man,” +not “What kind of _a_ man.” Also, do not say, “_kind_ of tired.” + +_Lady_. Feminine for _lord,_ therefore do not speak of a “sales-lady,” +“a man and his lady,” etc. + +_Last; latter_. We say _latter_ of two, in preference to _last;_ but +_last_ of three. + +_Lay; lie_. We _lay_ a thing down, but we ourselves _lie_ down; we say, +“He laid the Bible on the table,” but “He lay down on the couch;” “The +coat has been laid away,” and “It has lain in the drawer.” _Lay, laid, +laid_——takes an object; _lie, lay, lain_——does not. + +_Learn_. Never used as an active verb with an object, a in “I _learned_ +him his letters.” We say, “He _learned_ his letters,” and “I _taught_ +him his letters.” + +_Learned_. “A _learned_ man”——pronounce _learn-ed_ with two syllables; +but “He has _learned_ his lesson”——one syllable. + +_Like_. Do not say, “Do _like_ I do.” Use _as_ when a conjunction is +required. + +_Lives_. Do not say, “I had just as _lives_ as not,” but “I had just +as _Lief_.” + +_Lot_. Does not mean _many,_ as in “a _lot_ of men,” but one _division,_ +as, “in that lot.” + +_Lovely_. Do not overwork this word. A rose may be _lovely,_ but hardly +a plate of soup. + +_Mad_. We prefer to say _angry_ if we mean out _of temper_. + +_Mistaken_. Some critics insist that it is wrong to say “I am mistaken” +when we mean “I mistake.” + +_Love_. We _like_ candy rather than _love_ it. Save Love for something +higher. + +_Most_. In writing, do not use _'most_ for _almost_. + +_Mutual friend_. Though Dickens used this expression in one of his +titles in the sense of common _friend,_ it is considered incorrect by +many critics. The proper meaning of _mutual_ is reciprocal. + +_Nothing Like_. Do not say, “Nothing _like_ as handsome.” + +_Of all others_. Not proper after a superlative; as, “greatest of all +others,” the meaning being “the greatest of all,” or “great above all +others.” + +_Only_. Be careful not to place this word so that its application +will be doubtful, as in “His mother only spoke to him,” meaning “Only +his mother.” + +_On to_. Not one word like _into_. Use it as you would on and to +together. + +_Orate_. Not good usage. + +_Plenty_. Say, “Fruit was plentiful,” not “plenty.” + +_Preventative_. Should be _preventive_. + +_Previous_. Say, “previously to,” not “previous to.” Also, do not say, +“He was too previous”——it is a pure vulgarism. + +_Providing_. Say, “_Provided_ he has money,” not “Providing.” + +_Propose_. Do not confuse with _purpose_. One proposes a plan, but +_purposes_ to do something, though it is also possible a _propose,_ +or make a proposition, to do something. + +_Quite_. Do not say, “Quite a way,” or “Quite a good deal,” but reserve +the word for such phrases as “Quite sure,” “Quite to the edge,” etc. + +_Raise; rise_. Never tell a person to “raise up,” meaning “raise himself +up,” but to “rise up.” Also, do not speak of “raising children,” though +we may “raise horses.” + +_Scarcely_. Do not say, “I shall scarcely (hardly) finish before night,” +though it is proper to use it of time, as in “I saw him scarcely an +hour ago.” + +_Seldom or ever_. Incorrect for “seldom if ever.” + +_Set; sit_. We _set_ the cup down, and sit down ourselves. The hen +_sits;_ the sun _sets_; a dress _sits_. + +_Sewerage; sewage_. The first means the system of sewers, the second +the waste matter. + +_Some_. Do not say, “I am _some_ tired,” “I like it _some,_” etc. + +_Stop_. Say, “Stay in town,” not “_Stop in town_.” + +_Such another_. Say “another such.” + +_They_. Do not refer to _any one,_ by _they, their,_ or _them;_ as in +“If any one wishes a cup of tea, they may get it in the next room.” Say, +“If any one … he may …” + +_Transpire_. Does not mean “occur,” and hence we do not say “Many events +transpired that year.” We may say, “It transpired that he had been +married a year.” + +_Unique_. The word means _single, alone, the only one_ so we cannot say, +“very unique,” or the like. + +_Very_. Say, “_very_ much pleased,” not “_very_ pleased,” though the +latter usage is sustained by some authorities. + +_Ways_. Say, “a long _way,_” not “a long _ways_.” + +_Where_. A preposition of place is not required with where, and it is +considered incorrect to say, “Where is he gone to?” + +_Whole of_. Omit the _of_. + +_Without_. Do not say, “Without it rains,” etc., in the sense of unless, +except. + +_Witness_. Do not say, “He witnessed a bull-fight”; reserve it for +“witnessing a signature,” and the like. + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Art Of Writing & Speaking The +English Language, by Sherwin Cody + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ART OF WRITING *** + +***** This file should be named 19719-0.txt or 19719-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/7/1/19719/ + +Produced by Andrew Hodson + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/19719-0.zip b/19719-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..64127cc --- /dev/null +++ b/19719-0.zip diff --git a/19719-8.txt b/19719-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4b0cfde --- /dev/null +++ b/19719-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8633 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Art Of Writing & Speaking The English +Language, by Sherwin Cody + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Art Of Writing & Speaking The English Language + Word-Study and Composition & Rhetoric + +Author: Sherwin Cody + +Release Date: November 5, 2006 [EBook #19719] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ART OF WRITING *** + + + + +Produced by Andrew Hodson + + + + + +Transcriber's note: +Letters with an extra space before them show those that should be +removed & letters with { } around them show those added as there are +some mistakes in the book & because plain text is used. (I changed +mathematical & meter but it maybe that they are correct and the others +are wrong). I did not change _Shak{e}spe{a}re, mortgag eor_ & some +words in lists. (The N word should have a capital!) + +I've used superscript _a_ for broad _a_ (instead of 2 dots under it). +& superscripted _a_ & _o_ (Spanish ordinals) before _o_ for ligatures. +A long vowel should have a straight line over it but I've shown them by +using a colon : after them. Short vowels are shown by a grave accent +mark after instead of a curved line over the letter. An equals sign = +after a word shows that the next 1 should start the next column. +"Special SYSTEM Edition" brought from frontispiece. + + + + +THE ART _of_ WRITING & SPEAKING _The_ ENGLISH LANGUAGE + +SHERWIN CODY + +Special S Y S T E M Edition + +WORD-STUDY + +The Old Greek Press +_Chicago New{ }York Boston_ + +_Revised Edition_. + + +_Copyright,1903,_ + +BY SHERWIN CODY. + +Note. The thanks of the author are due to Dr. Edwin H. Lewis, of the +Lewis Institute, Chicago, and to Prof. John F. Genung, Ph. D., of Amherst +College, for suggestions made after reading the proof of this series. + + + +CONTENTS. + +THE ART OF WRITING AND SPEAKING THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. + +GENERAL INTRODUCTION. 7 + + +WORD-STUDY + +INTRODUCTION---THE STUDY OF SPELLING + +CHAPTER I. LETTERS AND SOUNDS + {VOWELS + CONSONANTS + EXERCISES + THE DICTIONARY} + +CHAPTER II. WORD-BUILDING + {PREFIXES} + +CHAPTER III. WORD-BUILDING---Rules and Applications + {EXCEPTIONS} + +CHAPTER IV. PRONUNCIATION + +CHAPTER V. A SPELLING DRILL + + APPENDIX + + + +The Art of Writing and Speaking the English Language + +GENERAL INTRODUCTION + +If there is a subject of really universal interest and utility, +it is the art of writing and speaking one's own language effectively. +It is the basis of culture, as we all know; but it is infinitely more +than that: it is the basis of business. No salesman can sell anything +unless he can explain the merits of his goods in _effective_ English +(among our people), or can write an advertisement equally effective, +or present his ideas, and the facts, in a letter. Indeed, the way +we talk, and write letters, largely determines our success in life. + +Now it is well for us to face at once the counter-statement that the +most ignorant and uncultivated men often succeed best in business, and +that misspelled, ungrammatical advertisements have brought in millions +of dollars. It is an acknowledged fact that our business circulars +and letters are far inferior in correctness to those of Great Britain; +yet they are more effective in getting business. As far as spelling +is concerned, we know that some of the masters of literature have been +atrocious spellers and many suppose that when one can sin in such +company, sinning is, as we might say, a "beauty spot", a defect in +which we can even take pride. + +Let us examine the facts in the case more closely. First of all, +language is no more than a medium; it is like air to the creatures of +the land or water to fishes. If it is perfectly clear and pure, we do +not notice it any more than we notice pure air when the sun is shining +in a clear sky, or the taste of pure cool water when we drink a glass +on a hot day. Unless the sun is shining, there is no brightness; +unless the water is cool, there is no refreshment. The source of all +our joy in the landscape, of the luxuriance of fertile nature, +is the sun and not the air. Nature would be more prodigal in Mexico than +in Greenland, even if the air in Mexico were as full of soot and smoke as +the air of Pittsburg{h}, or loaded with the acid from a chemical factory. +So it is with language. Language is merely a medium for thoughts, +emotions, the intelligence of a finely wrought brain, and a good +mind will make far more out of a bad medium than a poor mind will +make out of the best. A great violinist will draw such music from +the cheapest violin that the world is astonished. However is that any +reason why the great violinist should choose to play on a poor violin; +or should one say nothing of the smoke nuisance in Chicago because +more light and heat penetrate its murky atmosphere than are to be found +in cities only a few miles farther north? The truth is, we must regard +the bad spelling nuisance, the bad grammar nuisance, the inrtistic and +rambling language nuisance, precisely as we would the smoke nuisance, +the sewer-gas nuisance, the stock-yards' smell nuisance. Some dainty +people prefer pure air and correct language; but we now recognize that +purity is something more than an esthetic fad, that it is essential to our +health and well-being, and therefore it becomes a matter of universal +public interest, in language as well as in air. + +There is a general belief that while bad air may be a positive evil +influence, incorrect use of language is at most no more than a negative +evil: that while it may be a good thing to be correct, no special harm +is involved in being incorrect. Let us look into this point. + +While language as the medium of thought may be compared to air as +the medium of the sun's influence, in other respects it is like the +skin of the body; a scurvy skin shows bad blood within, and a scurvy +language shows inaccurate thought and a confused mind. And as a +disease once fixed on the skin reacts and poisons the blood in +turn as it has first been poisoned by the blood, so careless use of +language if indulged reacts on the mind to make it permanently and +increasingly careless, illogical, and inaccurate in its thinking. + +The ordinary person will probably not believe this, because he conceives +of good use of language as an accomplishment to be learned from books, +a prim system of genteel manners to be put on when occasion demands, +a sort of superficial education in the correct thing, or, as the boys +would say, "the proper caper." In this, however, he is mistaken. +Language which expresses the thought with strict logical accuracy is +correct language, and language which is sufficiently rich in its resources +to express thought fully, in all its lights and bearings, is effective +language. If the writer or speaker has a sufficient stock of words and +forms at his disposal, he has only to use them in a strictly logical way +and with sufficient fulness to be both correct and effective. If his mind +can always be trusted to work accurately, he need not know a word of +grammar except what he has imbibed unconsciously in getting his stock of +words and expressions. Formal grammar is purely for critical purposes. +It is no more than a standard measuring stick by which to try the +work that has been done and find out if it is imperfect at any point. +Of course constant correction of inaccuracies schools the mind and +puts it on its guard so that it will be more careful the next time +it attempts expression; but we cannot avoid the conclusion that if +the mind lacks material, lacks knowledge of the essential elements +of the language, it should go to the original source from which it got +its first supply, namely to reading and hearing that which is acknowledged +to be correct and sufficient---as the child learns from its mother. +All the scholastic and analytic grammar in the world will not +enrich the mind in language to any appreciable extent. + +And now we may consider another objector, who says, "I have studied +grammar for years and it has done me no good." In view of what has +just been said, we may easily concede that such is very likely to +have been the case. A measuring stick is of little value unless you +have something to measure. Language cannot be acquired, only tested, +by analysis, and grammar is an analytic, not a constructive science. + +We have compared bad use of language to a scurvy condition of the skin. +To cure the skin we must doctor the blood; and to improve the language +we should begin by teaching the mind to think. But that, you will say, +is a large undertaking. Yes, but after all it is the most direct and +effective way. All education should be in the nature of teaching +the mind to think, and the teaching of language consists in teaching +thinking in connection with word forms and expression through language. +The unfortunate thing is that teachers of language have failed +to go to the root of the trouble, and enormous effort has +counted for nothing, and besides has led to discouragement. + +The American people are noted for being hasty in all they do. +Their manufactures are quickly made and cheap. They have not +hitherto had time to secure that perfection in minute details which +constitutes "quality." The slow-going Europeans still excel in +nearly all fine and high-grade forms of manufacture---fine pottery, +fine carpets and rugs, fine cloth, fine bronze and other art wares. +In our language, too, we are hasty, and therefore imperfect. +Fine logical accuracy requires more time than we have had +to give to it, and we read the newspapers, which are very poor +models of language, instead of books, which should be far better. +Our standard of business letters is very low. It is rare to +find a letter of any length without one or more errors of language, +to say nothing of frequent errors in spelling made by ignorant +stenographers and not corrected by the business men who sign the letters. + +But a change is coming over us. We have suddenly taken to reading +books, and while they are not always the best books, they are better +than newspapers. And now a young business man feels that it is +distinctly to his advantage if he can dictate a thoroughly good +letter to his superior or to a well informed customer. Good letters +raise the tone of a business house, poor letters give the idea +that it is a cheapjack concern. In social life, well written letters, +like good conversational powers, bring friends and introduce the +writer into higher circles. A command of language is the index +of culture, and the uneducated man or woman who has become wealthy +or has gained any special success is eager to put on this wedding +garment of refinement. If he continues to regard a good command +of language as a wedding garment, he will probably fail in his effort; +but a few will discover the way to self-education and actively follow +it to its conclusion adding to their first success this new achievement. + +But we may even go farther. The right kind of language-teaching will also +give us power, a kind of eloquence, a skill in the use of words, which +will enable us to frame advertisements which will draw business, letters +which will win customers, and to speak in that elegant and forceful way so +effective in selling goods. When all advertisements are couched in very +imperfect language, and all business letters are carelessly written, of +course no one has an advantage over another, and a good knowledge and +command of language would not be much of a recommendation to a business +man who wants a good assistant. But when a few have come in and by their +superior command of language gained a distinct advantage over rivals, then +the power inherent in language comes into universal demand--the business +standard is raised. There are many signs now that the business standard +in the use of language is being distinctly raised. Already a stenographer +who does not make errors commands a salary from 25 per cent. to 50 per +cent. higher than the average, and is always in demand. Advertisement +writers must have not only business instinct but language instinct, +and knowledge of correct, as well as forceful, expression{.} + +Granted, then, that we are all eager to better our knowledge +of the English language, how shall we go about it? + +There are literally thousands of published books devoted to the study +and teaching of our language. In such a flood it would seem that we +should have no difficulty in obtaining good guides for our study. + +But what do we find? We find spelling-books filled with lists of words to +be memorized; we find grammars filled with names and definitions of all +the different forms which the language assumes; we find rhetorics filled +with the names of every device ever employed to give effectiveness to +language; we find books on literature filled with the names, dates of +birth and death, and lists of works, of every writer any one ever heard of: +and when we have learned all these names we are no better off than when we +started. It is true that in many of these books we may find prefaces +which say, "All other books err in clinging too closely to mere system, +to names; but we will break away and give you the real thing." But they +don't do it; they can't afford to be too radical, and so they merely modify +in a few details the same old system, the system of names. Yet it is a +great point gained when the necessity for a change is realized. + +How, then, shall we go about our mastery of the English language? + +Modern science has provided us a universal method by which we may study +and master any subject. As applied to an art, this method has proved +highly successful in the case of music. It has not been applied to +language because there was a well fixed method of language study in +existence long before modern science was even dreamed of, and that +ancient method has held on with wonderful tenacity. The great fault +with it is that it was invented to apply to languages entirely different +from our own. Latin grammar and Greek grammar were mechanical systems +of endings by which the relationships of words were indicated. +Of course the relationship of words was at bottom logical, but the +mechanical form was the chief thing to be learned. Our language depends +wholly (or very nearly so) on arrangement of words, and the key is the +logical relationship. A man who knows all the forms of the Latin or +Greek language can write it with substantial accuracy; but the man who +would master the English language must go deeper, he must master the +logic of sentence structure or word relations. We must begin our study +at just the opposite end from the Latin or Greek; but our teachers of +language have balked at a complete reversal of method, the power of +custom and time has been too strong, and in the matter of grammar we are +still the slaves of the ancient world. As for spelling, the +irregularities of our language seem to have driven us to one sole method, +memorizing: and to memorize every word in a language is an appalling +task. Our rhetoric we have inherited from the middle ages, from +scholiasts, refiners, and theological logicians, a race of men who got +their living by inventing distinctions and splitting hairs. The fact is, +prose has had a very low place in the literature of the world until +within a century; all that was worth saying was said in poetry, which the +rhetoricians were forced to leave severely alone, or in oratory, from +which all their rules were derived; and since written prose language +became a universal possession through the printing press and the +newspaper we have been too busy to invent a new rhetoric. + +Now, language is just as much a natural growth as trees or rocks or human +bodies, and it can have no more irregularities, even in the matter of +spelling, than these have. Science would laugh at the notion of +memorizing every individual form of rock. It seeks the fundamental laws, +it classifies and groups, and even if the number of classes or groups is +large, still they have a limit and can be mastered. Here we have a +solution of the spelling problem. In grammar we find seven fundamental +logical relationships, and when we have mastered these and their chief +modifications and combinations, we have the essence of grammar as truly +as if we knew the name for every possible combination which our seven +fundamental relationships might have. Since rhetoric is the art of +appealing to the emotions and intelligence of our hearers, we need to +know, not the names of all the different artifices which may be employed, +but the nature and laws of emotion and intelligence as they may be reached +through language; for if we know what we are hitting at, a little +practice will enable us to hit accurately; whereas if we knew the name of +every kind of blow, and yet were ignorant of the thing we were hitting at, +namely the intelligence and emotion of our fellow man, we would be forever +striking into the air,---striking cleverly perhaps, but ineffectively. + +Having got our bearings, we find before us a purely practical problem, +that of leading the student through the maze of a new science and teaching +him the skill of an old art, exemplified in a long line of masters. + +By way of preface we may say that the mastery of the English language +(or any language) is almost the task of a lifetime. A few easy lessons +will have no effect. We must form a habit of language study that will +grow upon us as we grow older, and little by little, but never by leaps, +shall we mount up to the full expression of all that is in us. + + +WORD-STUDY + +INTRODUCTION + +THE STUDY OF SPELLING. + +The mastery of English spelling is a serious under-taking. In the first +place, we must actually memorize from one to three thousand words which are +spelled in more or less irregular ways. The best that can be done with +these words is to classify them as much as possible and suggest methods of +association which will aid the memory. But after all, the drudgery of +memorizing must be gone through with. + +Again, those words called homonyms, which are pronounced alike but spelled +differently, can be studied only in connection with their meaning, since +the meaning and grammatical use in the sentence is our only key to their +form. So we have to go considerably beyond the mere mechanical association +of letters. + +Besides the two or three thousand common irregular words, the dictionary +contains something over two hundred thousand other words. Of course no one +of us can possibly have occasion to use all of those words; but at the same +time, every one of us may sooner or later have occasion to use any one of +them. As we cannot tell before hand what ones we shall need, we should be +prepared to write any or all of them upon occasion. Of course we may refer +to the dictionary; but this is not always, or indeed very often, possible. +It would obviously be of immense advantage to us if we could find a key to +the spelling of these numerous but infrequently used words. + +The first duty of the instructor in spelling should be to provide such +a key. We would suppose, off-hand, that the three hundred thousand +school-teachers in the United States would do this immediately and +without suggestion--certainly that the writers of school-books would. +But many things have stood in the way. It is only within a few years, +comparatively speaking, that our language has become at all fixed in its +spelling. Noah Webster did a great deal to establish principles, and +bring the spelling of as many words as possible to conform with these +principles and with such analogies as seemed fairly well established. +But other dictionary-makers have set up their ideas against his, +and we have a conflict of authorities. If for any reason one finds +himself spelling a word differently from the world about him, +he begins to say, "Well, that is the spelling given in Worcester, +or the Century, or the Standard, or the new Oxford." So the word +"authority" looms big on the horizon; and we think so much about +authority, and about different authorities, that we forget +to look for principles, as Mr. Webster would have us do. + +Another reason for neglecting rules and principles is that the lists of +exceptions are often so formidable that we get discouraged and exclaim, +"If nine tenths of the words I use every day are exceptions to the +rules, what is the use of the rules anyway!" Well, the words which +constitute that other tenth will aggregate in actual numbers far more +than the common words which form the chief part of everyday speech, +and as they are selected at random from a vastly larger number, +the only possible way to master them is by acquiring principles, +consciously or unconsciously, which will serve as a key to them. +Some people have the faculty of unconsciously formulating principles +from their everyday observations, but it is a slow process, +and many never acquire it unless it is taught them. + +The spelling problem is not to learn how to spell nine tenths of +our words correctly. Nearly all of us can and do accomplish that. +The good speller must spell nine hundred and ninety-nine one +thousandths of his word correctly, which is quite another matter. +Some of us go even one figure higher. + +Our first task is clearly to commit the common irregular words to memory. +How may we do that most easily? It is a huge task at best, but every +pound of life energy which we can save in doing it is so much gained for +higher efforts. We should strive to economize effort in this just as +the manufacturer tries to economize in the cost of making his goods. + +In this particular matter, it seems to the present writer that makers +of modern spelling-books have committed a great blunder in mixing +indiscriminately regular words with irregular, and common words with +uncommon. Clearly we should memorize first the words we use most often, +and then take up those which we use less frequently. But the +superintendent of the Evanston schools has reported that out of one +hundred first-reader words which he gave to his grammar classes as +a spelling test, some were misspelled by all but sixteen per cent{.} of +the pupils. And yet these same pupils were studying busily away on +_categories, concatenation,_ and _amphibious_. The spelling-book makers +feel that they must put hard words into their spellers. Their books are +little more than lists of words, and any one can make lists of common, easy +words. A spelling-book filled with common easy words would not seem to be +worth the price paid for it. Pupils and teachers must get their money's +worth, even if they never learn to spell. Of course the teachers are +expected to furnish drills themselves on the common, easy words; but +unfortunately they take their cue from the spelling-book, each day merely +assigning to the class the next page. They haven't time to select, and no +one could consistently expect them to do otherwise than as they do do. + +To meet this difficulty, the author of this book has prepared a version +of the story of Robinson Crusoe which contains a large proportion of +the common words which offer difficulty in spelling. Unluckily it +is not easy to produce classic English when one is writing under the +necessity of using a vocabulary previously selected. However, if we +concentrate our attention on the word-forms, we are not likely to be +much injured by the ungraceful sentence-forms. This story is not long, +but it should be dictated to every school class, beginning in the +fourth grade, until _every_ pupil can spell _every_ word correctly. +A high percentage is not enough, as in the case of some other studies. +Any pupil who misses a single word in any exercise should be marked zero. + +But even if one can spell correctly every word in this story, he may still +not be a good speller, for there are thousands of other words to be +spelled, many of which are not and never will be found in any +spelling-book. The chief object of a course of study in spelling is to +acquire two habits, the habit of observing articulate sounds, and the habit +of observing word-forms in reading. + +1. Train the Ear. Until the habit of observing articulate sounds +carefully has been acquired, the niceties of pronunciation are beyond +the student's reach, and equally the niceties of spelling are beyond his +reach, too. In ordinary speaking, many vowels and even some consonants +are slurred and obscured. If the ear is not trained to exactness, +this habit of slurring introduces many inaccuracies. Even in careful +speaking, many obscure sounds are so nearly alike that only a finely +trained ear can detect any difference. Who of us notices any +difference between _er_ in _pardoner_ and _or_ in _honor_? Careful +speakers do not pass over the latter syllable quite so hastily as over +the former, but only the most finely trained ear will detect any +difference even in the pronunciation of the most finely trained voice. + +In the lower grades in the schools the ear may be trained by giving +separate utterance to each sound in a given word, as f-r-e-n-d, _friend,_ +allowing each letter only its true value in the word. Still it may also be +obtained by requiring careful and distinct pronunciation in reading, not, +however, to the extent of exaggerating the value of obscure syllables, +or painfully accentuating syllables naturally obscure. + +Adults (but seldom children) may train the ear by reading poetry aloud, +always guarding against the sing-song style, but trying to harmonize +nicely the sense and the rhythm. A trained ear is absolutely necessary +to reading poetry well, and the constant reading aloud of poetry cannot +but afford an admirable exercise. + +For children, the use of diacritical marks has little or no value, until +the necessity arises for consulting the dictionary for pronunciation. +They are but a mechanical system, and the system we commonly use is so +devoid of permanence in its character that every dictionary has a different +system. The one most common in the schools is that introduced by Webster; +but if we would consult the Standard or the Century or the Oxford, we must +learn our system all over again. To the child, any system is a clog and a +hindrance, and quite useless in teaching him phonetic values, wherein the +voice of the teacher is the true medium. + +For older students, however, especially students at home, where no teacher +is available, phonetic writing by means of diacritical marks has great +value.* It is the only practicable way of representing the sounds of the +voice on paper. When the student writes phonetically he is obliged to +observe closely his own voice and the voices of others in ordinary speech, +and so his ear is trained. It also takes the place of the voice for +dictation in spelling tests by mail or through the medium of books. + + *There should be no more marks than there are sounds. When two vowels +have the same sound one should be written as a substitute for the other, +as we have done in this book. + +2. Train the Eye. No doubt the most effective way of learning spelling +is to train the eye carefully to observe the forms of the words we read +in newspapers and in books. If this habit is formed, and the habit of +general reading accompanies it, it is sufficient to make a nearly +perfect speller. The great question is, how to acquire it. + +Of course in order to read we are obliged to observe the forms of words +in a general way, and if this were all that is needed, we should all +be good spellers if we were able to read fluently. But it is not all. +The observation of the general form of a word is not the observation +that teaches spelling. We must have the habit of observing every +letter in every word, and this we are not likely to have unless +we give special attention to acquiring it. + +The "visualization" method of teaching spelling now in use in the +schools is along the line of training the eye to observe every letter +in a word. It is good so far as it goes; but it does not go very far. +The reason is that there is a limit to the powers of the memory, +especially in the observation of arbitrary combinations of letters. +What habits of visualization would enable the ordinary person to +glance at such a combination as the following and write it ten minutes +afterward with no aid but the single glance: _hwgufhtbizwskoplmne?_ +It would require some minutes' study to memorize such a combination, +because there is nothing to aid us but the sheer succession of forms. +The memory works by association. We build up a vast structure of +knowledge, and each new fact or form must be as securely attached +to this as the new wing of a building; and the more points at which +attachment can be formed the more easily is the addition made. + +The Mastery of Irregular Words. + +Here, then, we have the real reason for a long study of principles, +analogies, and classifications. They help us to remember. +If I come to the word _colonnade_ in reading, I observe at once that +the double _n_ is an irregularity. It catches my eye immediately. +"Ah!" I reflect almost in the fraction of a second as I read in +continuous flow, "here is another of those exceptions." Building on +what I already know perfectly well, I master this word with the very +slightest effort. If we can build up a system which will serve the +memory by way of association, so that the slight effort that can be +given in ordinary reading will serve to fix a word more or less fully, +we can soon acquire a marvellous power in the accurate spelling of words. + +Again: In a spelling-book before me I see lists of words ending in _ise, +ize,_ and _yse,_ all mixed together with no distinction. The arrangement +suggests memorizing every word in the language ending with either of these +terminations, and until we have memorized any particular word we have no +means of knowing what the termination is. If, however, we are taught that +_ize_ is the common ending, that _ise_ is the ending of only thirty-one +words, and _yse_ of only three or four, we reduce our task enormously and +aid the memory in acquiring the few exceptions. When we come to +_franchise_ in reading we reflect rapidly, "Another of those verbs in +_ise_!" or to _paralyse,_ "One of those very few verbs in _yse_!" We give +no thought whatever to all the verbs ending in _ize,_ and so save so much +energy for other acquirements. + +If we can say, "This is a violation of such and such a rule," or "This is a +strange irregularity," or "This belongs to the class of words which +substitutes _ea_ for the long sound of _e,_ or for the short sound of _e_." + +We have an association of the unknown with the known that is the most +powerful possible aid to the memory. The system may fail in and of itself, +but it more than serves its purpose thus indirectly in aiding the memory. + +We have not spoken of the association of word forms with sounds, +the grouping of the letters of words into syllables, and the aid that a +careful pronunciation gives the memory by way of association; for while +this is the most powerful aid of all, it does not need explanation. + +The Mastery of Regular Words. + +We have spoken of the mastery of irregular words, and in the last paragraph +but one we have referred to the aid which general principles give the +memory by way of association in acquiring the exceptions to the rules. +We will now consider the great class of words formed according to fixed +principles. + +Of course these laws and rules are little more than a string of +analogies which we observe in our study of the language. The language +was not and never will be built to fit these rules. The usage of the +people is the only authority. Even clear logic goes down before usage. +Languages grow like mushrooms, or lilies, or bears, or human bodies. +Like these they have occult and profound laws which we can never hope +to penetrate,---which are known only to the creator of all things +existent. But as in botany and zoology and physiology we may observe +and classify our observations, so we may observe a language, classify +our observations, and create an empirical science of word-formation. +Possibly in time it will become a science something more than empirical. + +The laws we are able at this time to state with much definiteness are few +(doubling consonants, dropping silent e's, changing y's to i's, accenting +the penultimate and antepenultimate syllables, lengthening and shortening +vowels). In addition we may classify exceptions, for the sole purpose of +aiding the memory. + +Ignorance of these principles and classifications, and knowledge of the +causes and sources of the irregularities, should be pronounced criminal +in a teacher; and failure to teach them, more than criminal in a +spelling-book. It is true that most spelling-books do give them in one +form or another, but invariably without due emphasis or special drill, +a lack which renders them worthless. Pupils and students should be +drilled upon them till they are as familiar as the multiplication table. + +We know how most persons stumble over the pronunciation of names in the +Bible and in classic authors. They are equally nonplussed when called +upon to write words with which they are no more familiar. They cannot +even pronounce simple English names like _Cody,_ which they call +"Coddy," in analogy with _body,_ because they do not know that in a word +of two syllables a single vowel followed by a single consonant is +regularly long when accented. At the same time they will spell the word +in all kinds of queer ways, which are in analogy only with exceptions, +not with regular formations. Unless a person knows what the regular +principles are, he cannot know how a word should regularly be spelled. +A strange word is spelled quite regularly nine times out of ten, and if +one does not know exactly how to spell a word, it is much more to his +credit to spell it in a regular way than in an irregular way. + +The truth is, the only possible key we can have to those thousands of +strange words and proper names which we meet only once or twice in a +lifetime, is the system of principles formulated by philologists, +if for no other reason, we should master it that we may come as near as +possible to spelling proper names correctly. + + +CHAPTER I. + +LETTERS AND SOUNDS. + +We must begin our study of the English language with the elementary +sounds and the letters which represent them. + +Name the first letter of the alphabet---_a_. The mouth is open and the +sound may be prolonged indefinitely. It is a full, clear sound, +an unobstructed vibration of the vocal chords. + +Now name the second letter of the alphabet---_b_. +You say _bee_ or _buh_. You cannot prolong the sound. In order to give +the real sound of _b_ you have to associate it with some other sound, +as that of _e_ or _u_. In other words, _b_ is in the nature of an +obstruction of sound, or a modification of sound, rather than a simple +elementary sound in itself. There is indeed a slight sound in the +throat, but it is a closed sound and cannot be prolonged. In the case +of _p,_ which is similar to _b,_ there is no sound from the throat. + +So we see that there are two classes of sounds (represented by two +classes of letters), those which are full and open tones from the vocal +chords, pronounced with the mouth open, and capable of being prolonged +indefinitely; and those which are in the nature of modifications of +these open sounds, pronounced with or without the help of the voice, +and incapable of being prolonged. The first class of sounds is called +vowel sounds, the second, consonant sounds. Of the twenty-six letters +of the alphabet, _a, e, i, o,_ and _u_ (sometimes _y_ and _w_) +represent vowel sounds and are called vowels; and the remainder +represent consonant sounds, and are called consonants. + +A syllable is an elementary sound, or a combination of elementary +sounds, which can be given easy and distinct utterance at one effort. +Any vowel may form a syllable by itself, but as we have seen that +a consonant must be united with a vowel for its perfect utterance, +it follows that every syllable must contain a vowel sound, even if +it also contains consonant sounds. With that vowel sound one or +more consonants may be united; but the ways in which consonants may +combine with a vowel to form a syllable are limited. In general we +may place any consonant before and any consonant after the vowel in +the same syllable: but _y_ for instance, can be given a consonant +sound only at the beginning of a syllable, as in _yet_; at the end +of a syllable _y_ becomes a vowel sound, as in _they_ or _only_. +In the syllable _twelfths_ we find seven consonant sounds; but if +these same letters were arranged in almost any other way they could +not be pronounced as one syllable---as for instance _wtelthfs_. + +A word consists of one or more syllables to which some definite +meaning is attached. + +The difficulties of spelling and pronunciation arise largely from the +fact that in English twenty-six letters must do duty for some forty-two +sounds, and even then several of the letters are unnecessary, as for +instance _c,_ which has either the sound of _s_ or of _k_; _x,_ which +has the sound either of _ks, gs,_ or _z_; _q,_ which in the combination +_qu_ has the sound of _kw_. All the vowels represent from two to seven +sounds each, and some of the consonants interchange with each other. + +The Sounds of the Vowels.---(1) Each of the vowels has what is called +a long sound and a short sound. It is important that these two sets +of sounds be fixed clearly in the mind, as several necessary rules +of spelling depend upon them. In studying the following table, +note that the long sound is marked by a s t r a i g h t l i n e + o v{colon : aft}er the letter, and the short sound by a + c u{g}r{a}ve {accent mark ` }. + +_Long Short_ + a:te a`t + ga:ve ma`n + na:me ba`g + + the:se pe`t + m:e te`n + (com)ple:te bre`d + + ki:te si`t + ri:ce mi`ll + li:me ri`p + + no:te no`t + ro:de ro`d + so:le To`m + + cu:re bu`t + cu:te ru`n + (a)bu:se cru`st + + scy:the (like)ly` + +If we observe the foregoing list of words we shall see that each of the +words containing a long vowel followed by a single consonant sound ends +in silent _e_. After the short vowels there is no silent _e_. +In each case in which we have the silent _e_ there is a single long +vowel followed by a single consonant, or two consonants combining to +form a single sound, as _th_ in _scythe_. Such words as _roll, toll,_ +etc., ending in double _l_ have no silent _e_ though the vowel is long; +and such words as _great, meet, pail,_ etc., in which two vowels +combine with the sound of one, take no silent _e_ at the end. +We shall consider these exceptions more fully later; but a _single long_ +vowel followed by a _single_ consonant _always_ takes silent _e_ at the +end. As carefully stated in this way, the rule has no exceptions. +The reverse, however, is not always true, for a few words containing +a short vowel followed by a single consonant do take silent _e_; +but there are very few of them. The principal are _have, give, +{_(I)_ }live, love, shove, dove, above;_ also _none, some, come,_ +and some words in three or more syllables, such as _domicile_. + +2. Beside the long and short sounds of the vowels there +are several other vowel sounds. + +A has two other distinct sounds: + + broad, like _aw,_ as in _all, talk,_ etc. + + Italian, like _ah,_ as in _far, father,_ etc. + +Double o has two sounds different from long or short _o_ alone: + +long o: as in _room, soon, mood,_ etc. + +short o`, as in _good, took, wood,_ etc. + +Ow has a sound of its own, as in _how, crowd, allow,_ etc.; +and _ou_ sometimes has the same sound, as in _loud, rout, bough,_ etc. + +(_Ow_ and _ou_ are also sometimes sounded like long _o,_ as in _own, +crow, pour,_ etc., and sometimes have still other sounds, +as _ou_ in _bought_). + +Oi and oy have a distinct sound of their own, as in _oil, toil, oyster, +void, boy, employ,_ etc. + +_Ow_ and _oi_ are called proper diphthongs, as the two vowels combine +to produce a sound different from either, while such combinations as +_ei, ea, ai,_ etc., are called improper diphthongs (or digraphs), +because they have the sound of one or other of the simple vowels. + +3. In the preceding paragraphs we have given all the distinct vowel +sounds of the language, though many of them are slightly modified in +certain combinations. But in many cases one vowel will be given the +sound of another vowel, and two or more vowels will combine with a +variety of sounds. These irregularities occur chiefly in a few hundred +common words, and cause the main difficulties of spelling the English +language. The following are the leading substitutes: + +ew with the sound of _u_ long, as in _few, chew,_ etc. (perhaps +this may be considered a proper diphthong); + +e (_, _) with the sound of _a_ long, as in _fte, abb,_ and all +foreign words written with an accent, especially French words; + +i with the sound of _e_ long, as in _machine,_ and nearly all French and +other foreign words; + +o has the sound of double _o_ long in _tomb, womb, prove, move,_ etc., +and of double _o_ short in _wolf, women,_ etc.; + +o also has the sound of _u_ short in _above, love, some, done,_ etc.; + +u has the sound of double _o_ long after _r,_ as in _rude, rule_; + +it also has the sound of double _o_ short in _put, pull, bull, sure,_ +etc.; + +ea has the sound of _a_ long, as in _great_; of _e_ long, as in _heat_; of +_e_ short, as in _head_; of _a_ Italian (ah), as in _heart, hearth,_ etc.; + +ei has the sound of _e_ long, as in _receive_; of _a_ long, as in +_freight, weight_; sometimes of _i_ long, as in _either_ and _neither,_ +pronounced with either the sound of _e_ long or _i_ long, the latter +being the English usage; + +ie has the sound of _i_ long, as in _lie,_ and of _e_ long, +as in _belief,_ and of _i_ short, as in _sieve_; + +ai has the sound of _a_ long, as in _laid, bail, train,_ etc., +and of _a_ short, as in _plaid;_ + +ay has the sound of _a_ long, as in _play, betray, say,_ etc.; + +oa has the sound of _o_ long, as in _moan, foam, coarse,_ etc. + +There are also many peculiar and occasional substitutions of sounds as in +_any_ and _many_ (a as e), _women_ (o as i), _busy_ (u as i), +_said_ (ai as e), _people_ (eo as e:), _build_ (u as i), _gauge_ (au as +a:), +_what_ (a as o), etc. + +When any of these combinations are to be pronounced as separate vowels, +in two syllables, two dots should be placed over the second, as in _nave_. + +4. The chief modifications of the elementary sounds are the following: + +before _r_ each of the vowels _e, i, o, u,_ and _y_ has almost the same +sound (marked like the Spanish ) as in _her, birth, honor, burr,_ and +_myrtle; o_ before _r_ sometimes has the sound of _aw,_ as in _or, for,_ +etc.; + +in unaccented syllables, each of the long vowels has a slightly shortened +sound, as in f_a_tality, n_e_gotiate, int_o_nation, ref_u_tation, +indicated by a dot above the sign for the long sound; (in a few words, +such as d_i_gress, the sound is not shortened, however); + +long _a_ () is slightly modified in such words as _care, fare, bare,_ +etc., while _e_ has the same sound in words like _there, their,_ and +_where_; (New Englan{d} g people give _a_ the short sound in such words +as _care,_ etc., and pronounce _there_ and _where_ with the short sound +of _a,_ while _their_ is pronounced with the short sound of _e_: +this is not the best usage, however); + +in _pass, class, command, laugh,_ etc., we have a sound of a between +Italian _a_ and short _a_ (indicated by a single dot over the _a_), +though most Americans pronounce it as short, and most English give the +Italian sound: the correct pronunciation is between these two. + +The Sounds of the Consonants. We have already seen that there are two +classes of consonant sounds, those which have a voice sound, as _b,_ +called _sonant,_ and those which are mere breath sounds, like _p,_ +called _surds_ or aspirates. The chief difference between _b_ and _p_ +is that one has the voice sound and the other has not. Most of the +other consonants also stand in pairs. We may say that the sonant +consonant and its corresponding surd are the hard and soft forms of +the same sound. The following table contains also simple consonant +sounds represented by two letters: +_Sonant Surd_ + b p + d t + v f + g (hard) k + j ch + z s + th (in _thine_) th (in _thin_) + zh (or z as in _azure_) sh + w + y + l + m + n + r h + +If we go down this list from the top to the bottom, we see that _b_ is the +most closed sound, while _h_ is the most slight and open, and the others +are graded in between (though not precisely as arranged above). These +distinctions are important, because in making combinations of consonants in +the same syllable or in successive syllables we cannot pass abruptly from a +closed sound to an open sound, or the reverse, nor from a surd sound to a +sonant, or the reverse. _L, m, n,_ and _r_ are called liquids, and easily +combine with other consonants; and so do the sibilants (_s, z,_ etc.). +In the growth of the language, many changes have been made in letters to +secure harmony of sound (as changing _b_ to _p_ in _sub-port---support,_ +and _s,_ to _f_ in _differ_---from _dis_ and _fero_). Some combinations +are not possible of pronunciation, others are not natural or easy; and +hence the alterations. The student of the language must know how words are +built; and then when he comes to a strange word he can reconstruct it for +himself. While the short, common words may be irregular, the long, strange +words are almost always formed quite regularly. + +Most of the sonants have but one sound, and none of them has more than +three sounds. The most important variations are as follows: + +C and G have each a soft sound and a hard sound. +The soft sound of _c_ is the same as _s,_ and the hard sound the same +as _k_. The soft sound of _g_ is the same as _j,_ and the hard sound +is the true sound of _g_ as heard in _gone, bug, struggle_. + +Important Rule. _C_ and _G_ are soft before _e, i,_ and _y,_ +and hard before all the other vowels, before all the other consonants, +and at the end of words. + +The chief exceptions to this rule are a few common words in which _g_ +is hard before _e_ or _i_. They include---_give, get, gill, gimlet, +girl, gibberish, gelding, gerrymander, gewgaw, geyser, giddy, +gibbon, gift, gig, giggle, gild, gimp, gingham, gird, girt, +girth, eager,_ and _begin_. G is soft before a consonant in +_judgment{,} lodgment, acknowledgment,_ etc. Also in a few +words from foreign languages _c_ is soft before other vowels, +though in such cases it should always be written with a cedilla (). + +N when marked in words from the Spanish language is pronounced +_n-y_ (caon like _canyon_). + +Ng has a peculiar nasal sound of its own, as heard in the syllable _ing_. + +N alone also has the sound of _ng_ sometimes before _g_ and _k,_ as in +_angle, ankle, single,_ etc. (pronounced _ang-gle, ang-kle, sing-gle_). + +Ph has the sound of _f,_ as in prophet. + +Th has two sounds, a hard sound as in _the, than, bathe, scythe,_ etc., +and a soft sound as in _thin, kith, bath, Smith,_ etc. Contrast +_breathe_ and _breath, lath_ and _lathe_; and _bath_ and _baths, +lath_ and _laths,_ etc. + +S has two sounds, one its own sound, as in _sin, kiss, fist_ (the same as +_c_ in _lace, rice,_ etc.), and the sound of _z,_ as in _rise_ (contrast +with _rice_), _is, baths, men's,_ etc. + +X has two common sounds, one that of _ks_ as in _box, six,_ etc., and the +other the sound of _gs,_ as in _exact, exaggerate_ (by the way, the first +_g_ in this word is silent). At the beginning of a word _x_ has the sound +of _z_ as in _Xerxes_. + +Ch has three sounds, as heard first in _child,_ second in _machine,_ and +third in _character_. The first is peculiar to itself, the second is that +of _sh,_ and the third that of _k_. + +The sound of _sh_ is variously represented: + +by _sh{,}_ as in _share, shift, shirt,_ etc. + +by _ti,_ as in _condition, mention, sanction,_ etc. + +by _si,_ as in _tension, suspension, extension,_ etc. + +by _ci,_ as in _suspicion_. (Also, _crucifixion_.) + +The kindred sound of _zh_ is represented by _z_ as in _azure,_ +and _s_ as in _pleasure,_ and by some combinations. + +Y is always a consonant at the beginning of a word when followed by a +vowel, as in _yet, year, yell,_ etc.; but if followed by a consonant it +is a vowel, as in _Ypsilanti_. At the end of a word it is {al}ways a +vowel, as in all words ending in the syllable _ly_. + +Exercises. It is very important that the student should master the +sounds of the language and the symbols for them, or the diacritical +marks, for several reasons: + +First, because it is impossible to find out the true pronunciation of +a word from the dictionary unless one clearly understands the meaning +of the principal marks; + +Second, because one of the essentials in accurate pronunciation and good +spelling is the habit of analyzing the sounds which compose words, +and training the ear to detect slight variations; + +Third, because a thorough knowledge of the sounds and their natural +symbols is the first step toward a study of the principles governing +word formation, or spelling and pronunciation. + +For purposes of instruction through correspondence or by means of a +textbook, the diacritical marks representing distinct sounds of the +language afford a substitute for the voice in dictation and similar +exercises, and hence such work requires a mastery of what might at first +sight seem a purely mechanical and useless system. + +One of the best exercises for the mastery of this system is to open the +unabridged dictionary at any point and copy out lists of words, writing the +words as they ordinarily appear in one column, and in an adjoining column +the phonetic form of the word. When the list is complete, cover one column +and reproduce the other from an application of the principles that have +been learned. After a few days, reproduce the phonetic forms from the +words as ordinarily written, and again the ordinary word from the phonetic +form. Avoid memorizing as much as possible, but work solely by the +application of principles. Never write down a phonetic form without fully +understanding its meaning in every detail. A key to the various marks will +be found at the bottom of every page of the dictionary, and the student +should refer to this frequently. In the front part of the dictionary there +will also be found an explanation of all possible sounds that any letter +may have; and every sound that any letter may have may be indicated by a +peculiar mark, so that since several letters may represent the same sound +there are a variety of symbols for the same sound. For the purposes of +this book it has seemed best to offer only one symbol for each sound, and +that symbol the one most frequently used. For that reason the following +example will not correspond precisely with the forms given in the +dictionary, but a study of the differences will afford a valuable exercise. + +Illustration.* + + *In this exercise, vowels before r marked in webster with the double +curve used over the Spanish n, are left unmarked. Double o with the +short sound is also left unmarked. + + The first place that I can well remember was a large, + The` first pla:s tha`t I ka`n we`l re:me`mber wo`z a: lrj, + +pleasant meadow with a pond of clear water in it. Some +ple`s'nt me`do: with a: po`nd o`v kle:r wo`ter in it. Su`m + +shady trees leaned over it, and rushes and water-lilies +sha:di` tre:z le:nd o:ver i`t, a`nd ru`she:z a`nd wo`ter-li`li`z + +grew at the deep end. Over the hedge on one side we looked +gru: a`t the` de:p e`nd. Over the: he`j o`n wu`n si:d we: lookt + +into a plowed field, and on the other we looked over a +into: a: plowd fe:ld a`nd o`n the: o`ther we: lookt o:ver a: + +gate at our master's house, which stood by the roadside. +ga:t a`t owr ma`ster'z hows, hwich stood bi: the: ro:dsi:d. + +At the top of the meadow was a grove of fir-trees, +A`t the: to`p o`v the: me`do: wo`z a: gro:v o`v fir-tre:z, + +and at the bottom a running brook overhung by a steep bank. +and a`t the: bo`t'm a ru`ning brook o:verhu`ng bi: a: ste:p ba`nk. + + + Whilst I was young I lived upon my mother's milk, as I could + Hwi:lst I wo`z yu`ng I livd u`po`n mi: mu`ther'z milk, a`z I kood + +not eat grass. In the daytime I ran by her side, and at night +no`t e:t gra`s. In the: da:ti:m I ra`n bi: her si:d, a`nd a`t ni:t + +I lay down close by her. When it was hot we used to stand +I la: down klo:s bi: her. Hwe`n it wo`z ho`t we: u:zd to: sta`nd + +by the pond in the shade of the trees, and when it was cold +bi: the: po`nd in the: sha:d o`v the: tre:z a`nd hwe`n it wo`z ko:ld + +we had a nice, warm shed near the grove. +we: ha`d a: ni:s, wawrm she`d ne:r the: gro:v. + +Note. In Webster's dictionary letters which are unmarked have an +obscure sound often not unlike uh, or are silent, and letters printed +in italics are nearly elided, so very slight is the sound they have if +it can be said to exist at all. In the illustration above, all very +obscure sounds have been replaced by the apostrophe, while no distinction +has been made between short vowels in accented and unaccented syllables. + +Studies from the Dictionary. + +The following are taken from Webster's Dictionary: + +Ab-do`m'-i-nou`s: The _a_ in _ab_ is only a little shorter than _a_ in +_at,_ and the _i_ is short being unaccented, while the _o_ is silent, +the syllable having the sound nus as indicated by the mark over the _u_. + +Le`ss'_e_n, (le`s'n), le`s's_o_n, (le`s'sn), le`ss'er, le`s'sor: Each of +these words has two distinct syllables, though there is no recognizable +vowel sound in the last syllables of the first two. This eliding of the +vowel is shown by printing the _e_ and the _o_ of the final syllables +in italics. In the last two words the vowels of the final syllables are +not marked, but have nearly the sound they would have if marked in the +usual way for _e_ and _o_ before _r_. As the syllables are not accented +the vowel sound is slightly obscured. Or in _lessor_ has the sound of +the word _or_ (nearly), not the sound of _or_ in _honor,_ which will be +found re-spelled (o`n'ur). It will be noted that the double s is +divided in two of the words and not in the other two. In _lesser_ and +_lessen_ all possible stress is placed on the first syllables, +since the terminations have the least possible value in speaking; +but in _lesson_ and _lessor_ we put a little more stress on the final +syllables, due to the greater dignity of the letter _o,_ +and this draws over a part of the s sound. + +Hon'-ey-co:mb (hu`n'y-ko:m): The heavy{ second} hyphen indicates that +this is a compound word and the hyphen must always be written. +The hyphens printed lightly in the dictionary merely serve to separate +the syllables and show how a word may be divided at the end of a line. +The student will also note that the _o_ in _-comb_ has its full long +value instead of being slighted. This slight added stress on the _o_ +is the way we have in speaking of indicating that _-comb_ was once a +word by itself, with an accent of its own. + +Exercise. +Select other words from the dictionary, and analyse as we have done +above, giving some explanation for every peculiarity found in the +printing and marks. Continue this until there is no doubt or hesitation +in regard to the meaning of any mark that may be found. + + +CHAPTER II. + +WORD-BUILDING. + +English speaking peoples have been inclined to exaggerate the +irregularities of the English word-formation. The fact is, only a small +number of common words and roots are irregular in formation, while fully +nine tenths of all the words in the language are formed according to +regular principles, or are regularly derived from the small number of +irregular words. We use the irregular words so much more frequently +that they do indeed constitute the greater part of our speech, +but it is very necessary that we should master the regular principles +of word-building, since they give us a key to the less frequently used, +but far more numerous, class which fills the dictionary, teaching us +both the spelling of words of which we know the sound, and the +pronunciation of words which we meet for the first time in reading. + +Accent. In English, accent is an essential part of every word. +It is something of an art to learn to throw it on to any syllable we +choose, for unless we are able to do this we cannot get the true +pronunciation of a word from the dictionary and we are helpless when we +are called on to pronounce a word we have never heard. + +Perhaps the best way to learn the art of throwing accent is by +comparing words in which we are in the habit of shifting the +accent to one syllable or another according to the meaning, +as for instance the following: + + 1. Accent. + +a. What _ac'cent_ has this word? + +b. With what _accent'uation_ do you _accent'_ this word? + + 2. Concert. + +a. Did you go to the _con'cert_ last night? + +b. By _concert'ed_ action we can do anything. + + 3. Contrast. + +{a} b. What a _con'trast_ between the rich man and the poor man! + +b. _Contrast'_ good with bad, black with white, greatness with littleness. + + 4. Permit. + +a. I have a building_-per'mit_. + +b. My mother will not _permit'_ me to go. + + 5. Present. + +a. He received a beautiful Christmas _pres'ent_. + +b. She was _present'ed_ at court. + + 6. Prefix. + +a. Sub is a common _pre'fix_. + +b. _Prefix'_ sub to port and you get support. + + 7. Compound. + +a. He can _compound'_ medicine like a druggist. + +b. Nitroglycerine is a dangerous _com'pound_. + +As a further illustration, read the following stanza of poetry, +especially accenting the syllables as marked: + + Tell' me not' in mourn'ful num'bers, + "Life' is but' an emp'ty dream'!" + For' the soul' is dead' that slum'bers, + And' things are' not what' they seem'. + +This is called scanning, and all verse may be scanned in the same way. +It is an excellent drill in learning the art of throwing the stress of +the voice on any syllable that may be desired. + +Two Laws of Word-Formation. + +We are now prepared to consider the two great laws governing +word-formation. These are: + +1. Law: All vowels in combination with consonants are naturally short +unless the long sound is given by combination with other vowels, +by accent, or by position in the syllable with reference to consonants. + +2. Law: Words derived from other words by the addition of prefixes or +suffixes always retain the original form as far as possible. + +1. We are likely to suppose that the natural or original sound of a +vowel is the long sound, because that is the sound we give it when +naming it in the alphabet. If we will examine a number of words, +however, we shall soon see that in combination with consonants +all vowels have a tendency to a short or obscure pronunciation. +The sounds of the consonants are naturally obscure, and they +draw the vowels to a similar obscurity. + +Since such is the case, when a vowel is given its long sound there is +always a special reason for it. In the simple words _not, pin, her, +rip, rid, cut, met,_ we have the short sounds of the vowels; but if we +desire the long sounds we must add a silent _e,_ which is not pronounced +as _e,_ but has its sound value in the greater stress put upon the vowel +with which it is connected. By adding silent _e_ to the above words we +have _note, pine, here, ripe, ride, mete_. In each of these cases the +_e_ follows the consonant, though really combining with the vowel before +the consonant; but if we place the additional _e_ just after the first +_e_ in _met_ we have _meet,_ which is a word even more common than +_mete. E_ is the only vowel that may be placed after the consonant and +still combine with the vowel before it {while being silent}; but nearly +all the other vowels may be placed beside the vowel that would otherwise +be short in order to make it long, and sometimes this added vowel is +placed before as well as after the vowel to be lengthened. Thus we have +_boat, bait, beat, field, chief,_ etc. There are a very, very few +irregular words in which the vowel sound has been kept short in spite +of the added vowel, as for instance, _head, sieve,_ etc. It appears +that with certain consonants the long sound is especially difficult, +and so in the case of very common words the wear of common speech has +shortened the vowels in spite of original efforts to strengthen them. +This is peculiarly true of the consonant _v,_ and the combination _th,_ +and less so of _s_ and _z_. So in {(I)}_live, have, give, love, shove, +move,_ etc., the vowel sound is more or less obscured even in spite of +the silent _e,_ though in the less common words _alive, behave,_ etc., +the long sound strengthened by accent has not been lost. So as a rule +two silent vowels are now used to make the vowel before the _v_ long, +as in _leave, believe, receive, beeves, weave,_ etc. In the single word +_sieve_ the vowel remains short in spite of two silent vowels added to +strengthen it. Two vowels are also sometimes required to strengthen a +long vowel before _th,_ as in _breathe,_ though when the vowel itself +is a strong one, as _a_ in _bathe,_ the second vowel is not required, +and _o_ in _both_ is so easily increased in sound that the two +consonants alone are sufficient. It will be seen, therefore, that much +depends on the quality of the vowel. _A_ and _o_ are the strongest +vowels, _i_ the weakest (which accounts for sieve). After _s_ and _z_ +we must also have a silent _e_ in addition to the silent vowel with +which the sounded vowel is combined, as we may see in _cheese, increase, +freeze,_ etc. The added vowel in combination with the long vowel is not +always needed, however, as we may see in contrasting _raise_ and _rise_. + +Not only vowels but consonants may serve to lengthen vowel sounds, as +we see in _right, night, bright,_ and in _scold, roll,_ etc. Only _o_ +is capable of being lengthened by two simple consonants such as we have +in _scold_ and _roll_. In _calm_ and _ball,_ for instance, the _a_ has +one of its extra values rather than its long sound. The _gh_ is of +course a powerful combination. Once it was pronounced; but it became so +difficult that we have learned to give its value by dwelling a little on +the vowel sound. + +Another powerful means of lengthening a vowel is accent. When a vowel +receives the full force of the accent by coming at the end of an accented +syllable it is almost invariably made long. We see this in monosyllables +such as _he, no,_ etc. It is often necessary to strengthen by an +additional silent vowel, however, as in _tie, sue, view,_ etc., and _a_ has +a peculiarity in that when it comes at the end of a syllable alone it has +the sound of _ah,_ or _a_ Italian, rather than that of _a_ long, and we +have _pa, ma,_ etc., and for the long sound _y_ is added, as in _say, day, +ray. I_ has a great disinclination to appear at the end of a word, and so +is n usually changed to _y_ when such a position is necessary, or it takes +silent _e_ as indicated above; while this service on the part of _y_ is +reciprocated by _i_'s taking the place of _y_ inside a word, as may be +illustrated by _city_ and _cities_. + +When a vowel gets the _full force_ of the accent in a word of two or +more syllables it is bound to be long, as for instance the first _a_ in +_ma'di a_. Even the stress necessary to keep the vowel from running +into the next syllable will make it long, though the sound is somewhat +obscured, some other syllable receiving the chief accent, as the first +_a_ in _ma gi'cian_. In this last word _i_ seems to have the full +force of the accent, yet it is not long; and we note the same in such +words as _condi'tion,_ etc. The fact is, however, that _i_ being a +weak vowel easily runs into the consonant sound of the next syllable, +and if we note the sounds as we pronounce _condition_ we shall see that +the _sh_ sound represented by _ti_ blends with the _i_ and takes the +force of the accent. We cannot separate the _ti_ or _ci_ from the +following portion of the syllable, since if so separated they could not +have their _sh_ value; but in pronunciation this separation is made in +part and the _sh_ sound serves both for the syllable that precedes and +the syllable that follows. In a word like _di men'sion_ we find the _i_ +of the first syllable long even without the accent, since the accent on +_men_ attaches the _m_ so closely to it that it cannot in any way +relieve the _i_. So we see that in an accented syllable the consonant +before a short vowel, as well as the consonant following it, receives +part of the stress. This is especially noticeable in the word _ma +gi'cian_ as compared with _mag'ic_. In magic the syllable _ic_ is in +itself so complete that the _g_ is kept with the _a_ and takes the force +of the accent, leaving the _a_ short. In _magician_ the _g_ is drawn +away from the _a_ to help out the short _i_ followed by an _sh_ sound, +and the _a_ is lengthened even to altering the form of the simple word. +In the word _ma'gi an,_ again, we find _a_ long, the _g_ being needed to +help out the _i_. + +Since accent makes a vowel long if no consonant intervenes at the end +of a syllable, and as a single consonant following such a vowel in a +word of two syllables (though not in words of three or more) is likely +to be drawn into the syllable following, a single consonant following +a single short vowel must be doubled. If two or more consonants follow +the vowel, as in _masking, standing, wilting,_ the vowel even in an +accented syllable remains short. But in _pining_ with one _n_ following +the _i_ in the accented syllable, we know that the vowel must be long, +for if it were short the word would be written _pinning_. + +Universal Rule: _Monosyllables_ in which, a single vowel is followed by +a single consonant (except _v_ and _h_ never doubled) _double the final +consonant_ when a single syllable beginning with a vowel is added, +and _all words_ so ending double the final consonant on the addition of +a syllable beginning with a vowel _if the syllable containing the single +vowel_ followed by a single consonant _is to be accented_. + +Thus we have _can---canning, run---running, fun---funny, flat---flattish_; +and also _sin---sinned_ (for the _ed_ is counted a syllable though not +pronounced as such nowadays); _preferred,_ but _preference,_ since the +accent is thrown back from the syllable containing the single vowel +followed by a single consonant in the word _preference,_ though not in +_preferred_; and of course the vowel is not doubled in _murmured, wondered, +covered,_ etc. + +If, however, the accented syllable is followed by two or more syllables, +the tendency of accent is to shorten the vowel. Thus we have +_grammat'ical,_ etc., in which the short vowel in the accented syllable +is followed by a single consonant not doubled. The word _na'tion_ (with +a long a) becomes _na'tional_ (short _a_) when the addition of a syllable +throws the accent on to the antepenult. The vowel _u_ is never shortened +in this way, however, and we have _lu'bricate,_ not _lub'ricate_. +We also find such words as _no'tional_ (long _o_). While accented +syllables which are followed by two or more syllables seldom if ever double +the single consonant, in pronunciation we often find the vowel long if the +two syllables following contain short and weak vowels. Thus we have +_pe'riod_ (long _e_), _ma'niac_ (long _a_), and _o'rient'al_ (long _o_). + +In words of two syllables and other words in which the accent comes on +the next to the last syllable, a short vowel in an accented syllable +should logically always be followed by more than one consonant or a +double consonant. We find the double consonant in such words as +_summer, pretty, mammal,_ etc. Unfortunately, our second law, which +requires all derived words to preserve the form of the original root, +interferes with this principle very seriously in a large number +of English words. The roots are often derived from languages in +which this principle did not apply, or else these roots originally +had very different sound values from those they have with us. +So we have _body,_ with one _d,_ though we have _shoddy_ and _toddy_ +regularly formed with two _d_'s, and we have _finish, exhibit,_ etc.; +in _col'onnade_ the _n_ is doubled in a syllable that is not accented. + +The chief exception to the general principle is the entire class of +words ending in _ic,_ such as _colic, cynic, civic, antithetic, +peripatetic,_ etc. If the root is long, however, it will remain long +after the addition of the termination _ic,_ as _music_ (from _muse_), +_basic_ (from _base_), etc. + +But in the case of words which we form ourselves, we will find practically +no exceptions to the rule that a short vowel in a syllable _next_ to the +last _must_ be followed by a _double consonant_ when accented, while a +short vowel in a syllable _before_ the next to the last is _not_ followed +by a double consonant when the syllable is accented. + +2. Our second law tells us that the original form of a word or of its +root must be preserved as far as possible. Most of the words referred +to above in which single consonants are doubled or not doubled in +violation of the general rule are derived from the Latin, usually through +the French, and if we were familiar with those languages we should have a +key to their correct spelling. But even without such thorough knowledge, +we may learn a few of the methods of derivation in those languages, +especially the Latin, as well as the simpler methods in use in the English. + +Certain changes in the derived words are always made, as, for instance, the +dropping of the silent _e_ when a syllable beginning with a vowel is added. + +Rule. Silent _e_ at the end of a word is dropped whenever a syllable +beginning with a vowel is added. + +This rule is not quite universal, though nearly so. The silent _e_ is +always retained when the vowel at the beginning of the added syllable +would make a soft _c_ or _g_ hard, as in _serviceable, changeable,_ etc. +In _changing, chancing,_ etc., the _i_ of the added syllable is sufficient +to make the _c_ or _g_ retain its soft sound. In such words as _cringe_ +and _singe_ the silent _e_ is retained even before _i_ in order to avoid +confusing the words so formed with other words in which the _ng_ has a +nasal sound; thus we have _singeing_ to avoid confusion with _singing,_ +though we have _singed_ in which the _e_ is dropped before _ed_ because the +dropping of it causes no confusion. Formerly the silent _e_ was retained +in _moveable_; but now we write _movable,_ according to the rule. + +Of course when the added syllable begins with a consonant, the silent +_e_ is not dropped, since dropping it would have the effect of +shortening the preceding vowel by making it stand before two consonants. + +A few monosyllables ending in two vowels, one of which is silent _e,_ +are exceptions: _duly, truly_; also _wholly_. + +Also final _y_ is changed to _i_ when a syllable is added, unless that +added syllable begins with _i_ and two _i_'s would thus come together. +_I_ is a vowel never doubled. Th{u} is we have _citified,_ +but _citifying_. + +We have already seen that final consonants may be doubled under certain +circumstances when a syllable is added. + +These are nearly all the changes in spelling that are possible when +words are formed by adding syllables; but changes in pronunciation and +vowel values are often affected, as we have seen in _nation_ (_a_ long) +and _national_ (_a_ short). + +Prefixes. But words may be formed by prefixing syllables, or by combining +two or more words into one. Many of these formations were effected in the +Latin before the words were introduced into English; but we can study the +principles governing them and gain a key to the spelling of many English +words. + +In English we unite a preposition with a verb by placing it after the +verb and treating it as an adverb. Thus we have "breaking in," +"running over," etc. In Latin the preposition in such cases was +prefixed to the word; and there were particles used as prefixes which +were never used as prepositions. We should become familiar with the +principal Latin prefixes and always take them into account in the +spelling of English words. The principal Latin prefixes are: + +ab (abs)---from +ad---to +ante---before +bi (bis)---twice +circum (circu)---around +con---with +contra(counter)---against +de---down, from +dis---apart, not +ex---out of, away from +extra---beyond +in---in, into, on; _also_ not (another word) +inter---between= +non---not +ob---in front of, in the way of +per---through +post---after +pre---before +pro---for, forth +re---back or again +retro---backward +se---aside +semi---half +sub---under +super---above, over +trans---over, beyond +ultra---beyond +vice---instead of. + +Of these prefixes, those ending in a single consonant are likely to +change that consonant for euphony to the consonant beginning the word +to which the prefix is attached. Thus _ad_ drops the _d_ in _ascend,_ +becomes _ac_ in _accord, af_ in _affiliate, an_ in _annex, ap_ in +_appropriate, at_ in _attend; con_ becomes _com_ in _commotion,_ also +in _compunction_ and _compress, cor_ in _correspond, col_ in _collect, +co_ in _co-equal_; _dis_ becomes _dif_ in _differ_; _ex_ becomes _e_ in +_eject, ec_ in _eccentric, ef_ in _effect_; _in_ becomes _il_ in +_illuminate, im_ in _import, ir_ in _irreconcilable; ob_ becomes _op_ +in _oppress, oc_ in _occasion, of_ in _offend_; and _sub_ becomes _suc_ +in _succeed, sup_ in _support, suf_ in _suffix, sug_ in _suggest, +sus_ in _sustain_. The final consonant is changed to a consonant that +can be easily pronounced before the consonant with which the following +syllable begins. Following the rule that the root must be changed as +little as possible, it is always the prefix, not the root, +which is compelled to yield to the demands of euphony. + +A little reflection upon the derivation of words will thus often give +us a key to the spelling. For instance, suppose we are in doubt whether +_irredeemable_ has two _r_'s or only one: we now that _redeem_ is a +root, and therefore the _ir_ must be a prefix, and the two _r_'s are +accounted for,--- indeed are necessary in order to prevent our losing +sight of the derivation and meaning of the word. In the same way, we can +never be in doubt as to the two _m_'s in _commotion, commencement,_ etc. + +We have already noted the tendency of _y_ to become _i_ in the middle +of a word. The exceptional cases are chiefly derivatives from the +Greek, and a study of the Greek prefixes will often give us a hint in +regard to the spelling of words containing _y_. These prefixes, +given here in full for convenience, are: + +a (an)---without, not +amphi---both, around +ana---up, back, through= +anti---against, opposite +apo (ap)---from +cata---down + +dia---through +en (em)---in +epi (ep)---upon +hyper---over, excessive +hypo---under= +meta (met)---beyond, change +syn (sy, syl, sym)---with, together + +In Greek words also we will find _ph_ with the sound of _f_. +We know that _symmetrical, hypophosphite, metaphysics, emphasis,_ etc., +are Greek because of the key we find in the prefix, and we are thus +prepared for the _y_'s and _ph_'s. _F_ does not exist in the Greek +alphabet (except as ph) and so we shall never find it in words derived +from the Greek. + +The English prefixes are not so often useful in determining peculiar +spelling, but for completeness we give them here: + +a---at, in, on (ahead) +be---to make, by (benumb) +en (em)---in, on, to make (encircle, empower) +for---not, from (forbear) +fore---before (forewarn) +mis---wrong, wrongly (misstate) +out---beyond (outbreak) +over---above (overruling) +to---the, this (to-night) +un---not, opposite +act (unable, undeceive) +under---beneath (undermine) +with---against, from (withstand) + + +CHAPTER III. + +WORD-BUILDING---RULES AND APPLICATIONS. + +There are a few rules and applications of the principles of word-formation +which may be found fully treated in the chapter on "Orthography" at the +beginning of the dictionary, but which we present here very briefly, +together with a summary of principles already discussed. + +Rule 1. _F, l,_ and _s_ at the end of a monosyllable after a single +vowel are commonly doubled. The exceptions are the cases in which _s_ +forms the plural or possessive case of a noun, or third person singular +of the verb, and the following words: _clef, if, of, pal, sol, as, gas, +has, was, yes, gris, his, is, thus, us. L_ is not doubled at the end +of words of more than one syllable, as _parallel, willful,_ etc. + +Rule 2. No other consonants thus situated are doubled. Exceptions: +_ebb, add, odd, egg, inn, bunn, err, burr, purr, butt, fizz, fuzz, +buzz,_ and a few very uncommon words, for which see the chapter in the +dictionary above referred to. + +Rule 3. A consonant standing at the end of a word immediately after a +diphthong or double vowel is never doubled. The word _guess_ is only an +apparent exception, since _u_ does not form a combination with _e_ but +merely makes the _g_ hard. + +Rule 4. Monosyllables ending in the sound of _ic_ represented by _c_ +usually take _k_ after the _c_, as in _back, knock,_ etc. Exceptions: +_talc, zinc, roc, arc,_ and a few very uncommon words. Words of more +than one syllable ending in _ic_ or _iac_ do not take _k_ after the _c_ +(except _derrick_), as for example _elegiac, cubic, music,_ etc. +If the _c_ is preceded by any other vowel than _i_ or _ia, k_ is added +to the _c_, as in _barrack, hammock, wedlock_. Exceptions: +_almanac, havoc,_ and a very few uncommon words. + +Rule 5. To preserve the hard sound of _c_ when a syllable is added +which begins with _e, i,_ or _y, k_ is placed after final _c_, +as in _trafficking, zincky, colicky_. + +Rule 6. _X_ and _h_ are never doubled, _v_ and _j_ seldom. +_G_ with the soft sound cannot be doubled, because then the first _g_ +would be made hard. Example: _mag'ic. Q_ always appears with _u_ +following it, and here _u_ has the value of the consonant _w_ and in no +way combines or is counted with the vowel which may follow it. For +instance _squatting_ is written as if _squat_ contained but one vowel. + +Rule 7. In simple derivatives a single final consonant following a +single vowel in a syllable that receives an accent is doubled when +another syllable beginning with a vowel is added. + +Rule 8. When accent comes on a syllable standing next to the last, +it has a tendency to lengthen the vowel; but on syllables farther from +the end, the tendency is to shorten the vowel without doubling the +consonant. For example, _na'tion_ (_a_ long), but _na'tional_ +(_a_ short); _gram'mar,_ but _grammat'ical_. + +Rule 9. Silent _e_ at the end of a word is usually dropped +when a syllable beginning with a vowel is added. The chief +exceptions are words in which the silent _e_ is retained to +preserve the soft sound of _c_ or _g_. + +Rule 10. Plurals are regularly formed by adding _s_; but if the +word end in a sibilant sound (_sh, zh, z, s, j, ch, x_), the plural +is formed by adding _es,_ which is pronounced as a separate syllable. +If the word end{s} in a sibilant sound followed by silent _e,_ +that _e_ unites with the _s_ to form a separate syllable. +Examples: _seas, cans; boxes, churches, brushes; changes, services_. + +Rule 11. Final _y_ is regularly changed to _i_ when a syllable is +added. In plurals it is changed to _ies,_ except when preceded by a +vowel, when a simple _s_ is added without change of the _y_. +Examples: _clumsy, clumsily_; _city, cities_; _chimney, chimneys_. +We have _colloquies_ because _u_ after _q_ has the value of the +consonant _w_. There are a few exceptions to the above rule. When two +_i_'s would come together, the _y_ is not changed, as in _carrying_. + +Rule 12. Words ending, in a double consonant commonly retain the double +consonant in derivatives. The chief exception is _all,_ which drops one +_l,_ as in _almighty, already, although,_ etc. According to English +usage other words ending in double _l_ drop one _l_ in derivatives, +and we have _skilful_ (for _skillful_), _wilful_ (for _willful_), etc., +but Webster does not approve this custom. _Ful_ is an affix, +not the word _full_ in a compound. + + +EXCEPTIONS AND IRREGULARITIES. + +1. Though in the case of simple words ending in a double consonant the +derivatives usually retain the double consonant, _pontific_ and +_pontifical_ (from _pontiff_) are exceptions, and when three letters of +the same kind would come together, one is usually dropped, as in +_agreed_ (_agree_ plus _ed_), _illy_ (_ill_ plus _ly_), _belless,_ etc. +We may write _bell-less,_ etc., however, in the case of words in which +three _l_'s come together, separating the syllables by a hyphen. + +2. To prevent two _i_'s coming together, we change _i_ to _y_ in +_dying, tying, vying,_ etc., from _die, tie,_ and _vie_. + +3. Derivatives from _adjectives_ ending in _y_ do not change _y_ to +_i_, and we have _shyly, shyness, slyly,_ etc., though _drier_ and +_driest_ from _dry_ are used. The _y_ is not changed before _ship,_ +as in _secretaryship, ladyship,_ etc., nor in _babyhood_ and _ladykin_. + +4. We have already seen that _y_ is not changed in derivatives when it +is preceded by another vowel, as in the case of _joyful,_ etc.; +but we find exceptions to this principle in _daily, laid, paid, said, +saith, slain,_ and _staid_; and many write _gaily_ and _gaiety,_ +though Webster prefers _gayly_ and _gayety_. + +5. Nouns of one syllable ending in _o_ usually take a silent _e_ also, +as _toe, doe, shoe,_ etc, but other parts of speech do not take the _e,_ +as _do, to, so, no,_ and the like, and nouns of more than one syllable, +as _potato, tomato,_ etc., omit the _e_. Monosyllables ending in _oe_ +usually retain the silent _e_ in derivatives, and we have _shoeing, +toeing,_ etc. The commoner English nouns ending in _o_ also have the +peculiarity of forming the plural by adding _es_ instead of _s,_ and we +have _potatoes, tomatoes, heroes, echoes, cargoes, embargoes, mottoes_; +but nouns a trifle more foreign form their plurals regularly, as _solos, +zeros, pianos,_ etc. When a vowel precedes the _o,_ the plural is +always formed regularly. The third person singular of the verb _woo_ +is _wooes,_ of _do does,_ of _go goes,_ etc., in analogy with the +plurals of the nouns ending in _o_. + +6. The following are exceptions to the rule that silent _e_ is retained +in derivatives when the added syllable begins with a consonant: +_judgment, acknowledgment, lodgment, wholly, abridgment, wisdom,_ etc. + +7. Some nouns ending in _f_ or _fe_ change those terminations to _ve_ +in the plural, as _beef---beeves, leaf---leaves, knife---knives, +loaf---loaves, life---lives, wife---wives, thief---thieves, +wolf---wolves, self---selves, shelf---shelves, calf---calves, +half---halves, elf---elves, sheaf---sheaves_. We have _chief---chiefs_ +and _handkerchief---handkerchiefs,_ however, and the same is true of all +nouns ending in _f_ or _fe_ except those given above. + +8. A few nouns form their plurals by changing a single vowel, as +_man---men, woman---women, goose---geese, foot---feet, tooth---teeth,_ +etc. Compounds follow the rule of the simple form, but the plural of +_talisman_ is _talismans,_ of _German_ is _Germans,_ of _musselman_ is +_musselmans,_ because these are not compounds of _men_. + +9. A few plurals are formed by adding _en,_ as _brother---brethren, +child---children, ox---oxen_. + +10. _Brother, pea, die,_ and _penny_ have each two plurals, which +differ in meaning. _Brothers_ refers to male children of the same +parents, _brethren_ to members of a religious body or the like; +_peas_ is used when a definite number is mentioned, _pease_ when +bulk is referred to; _dies_ are instruments used for stamping, etc., +_dice_ cubical blocks used in games of chance; _pennies_ refer to a +given number of coins, _pence_ to an amount reckoned by the coins. +_Acquaintance_ is sometimes used in the plural for _acquaintances_ with +no difference of meaning. + +11. A few words are the same in the plural as in the singular, +as _sheep, deer, trout,_ etc. + +12. Some words derived from foreign languages retain the plurals of +those languages. For example: +datum---data +criterion---criteria +genus---genera +larva---larv= +crisis---crises +matrix---matrices +focus---foci +monsieur---messieurs + +13. A few allow either a regular plural or the plural retained +from the foreign language: +formula---formul or formulas +beau---beaux or beaus +index---indices or indexes +stratum---strata or stratums +bandit---banditti or bandits +cherub---cherubim or cherubs +seraph---seraphim or seraphs + +14. In very loose compounds in which a noun is followed by an adjective +or the like, the noun commonly takes the plural ending, as in +_courts-martial, sons-in-law, cousins-german_. When the adjective is +more closely joined, the plural ending must be placed at the end of the +entire word. Thus we have _cupfuls, handfuls,_ etc. + +Different Spellings for the same Sound. + +Perhaps the greatest difficulty in spelling English words arises from +the fact that words and syllables pronounced alike are often spelled +differently, and there is no rule to guide us in distinguishing. +In order to fix their spelling, in mind we should know what classes of +words are doubtful, and when we come to them constantly refer to the +dictionary. To try to master these except in the connections in which +we wish to use them the writer believes to be worse than folly. +By studying such words in pairs, confusion is very likely to be fixed +forever in the mind. Most spelling-books commit this error, and so are +responsible for a considerable amount of bad spelling, which their +method has actually introduced and instilled into the child's mind. + +Persons who read much are not likely to make these errors, since they +remember words by the form as it appeals to the eye, not by the sound +in which there is no distinction. The study of such words should +therefore be conducted chiefly while writing or reading, not orally. + +While we must memorize, one at a time as we come to them in reading or +writing, the words or syllables in which the same sound is represented +by different spellings, still we should know clearly what classes of +words to be on the lookout for. We will now consider some of the +classes of words in which a single syllable may be spelled in various ways. + + +Vowel Substitutions in Simple Words. + +ea for e` short or e obscure before r. + +already +bread +breakfast +breast +breadth +death +earth +dead +deaf +dread= +early +earn +earnest +earth +feather +head +health +heaven +heavy= +heard +lead +learn +leather +meadow +measure +pearl +pleasant +read= +search +sergeant +spread +steady +thread +threaten +tread +wealth +weather + +ee for e: long. + +agree +beef +breed +cheek +cheese +creek +creep +cheer +deer +deed +deep +feed= +feel +feet +fleece +green +heel +heed +indeed +keep +keel +keen +kneel +meek= +need +needle +peel +peep +queer +screen +seed +seen +sheet +sheep +sleep +sleeve= +sneeze +squeeze +street +speech +steeple +steet +sweep +sleet +teeth +weep +weed +week + +ea for e: long. + +appear +bead +beach +bean +beast +beat +beneath +breathe +cease +cheap +cheat +clean +clear +congeal +cream +crease +creature +dear +deal +dream +defeat= +each +ear +eager +easy +east +eaves +feast +fear +feat +grease +heap +hear +heat +increase +knead +lead +leaf +leak +lean +least +leave= +meat +meal +mean +neat +near +peas (pease) +peal +peace +peach +please +preach +reach +read +reap +rear +reason +repeat +scream= +seam +seat +season +seal +speak +steam +streak +stream +tea +team +tear +tease +teach +veal +weave +weak +wheat +wreath (wreathe) +year +yeast + +ai for a: long. + +afraid +aid +braid +brain +complain +daily +dairy +daisy +drain +dainty +explain +fail +fain= +gain +gait +gaiter +grain +hail +jail +laid +maid +mail +maim +nail +paid= +pail +paint +plain +prairie +praise +quail +rail +rain +raise +raisin +remain +sail= +saint +snail +sprain +stain +straight +strain +tail +train +vain +waist +wait +waive + +ai for i or e obscure. + +bargain captain certain curtain mountain + +oa for o: long. + +board +boat +cloak +coax +coal +coast +coarse= +float +foam +goat +gloam +groan +hoarse +load= +loan +loaf +oak +oar +oats +roast +road= +roam +shoal +soap +soar +throat +toad +toast + +ie for e: long. + +believe +chief= +fierce +grief= +niece +priest= +piece +thief + +ei for e long. + +neither receipt receive + +In _sieve, ie_ has the sound of _i_ short. + +In _eight, skein, neighbor, rein, reign, sleigh, vein, veil, weigh,_ +and _weight, ei_ has the sound of _a_ long. + +In _height, sleight,_ and a few other words _ei_ has the sound of _i_ long. + +In _great, break,_ and _steak ea_ has the sound of _a_ long; +in _heart_ and _hearth_ it has the sound of _a_ Italian, +and in _tear_ and _bear_ it has the sound of _a_ as in _care_. + +Silent Consonants etc. + +although +answer +bouquet +bridge +calf +calm +catch +castle +caught +chalk +climb +ditch +dumb +edge +folks +comb +daughter +debt +depot +forehead +gnaw +hatchet +hedge +hiccough= +hitch +honest +honor +hustle +island +itch +judge +judgment +knack +knead +kneel +knew +knife +knit +knuckle +knock +knot +know +knowledge +lamb +latch +laugh +limb +listen= +match +might +muscle +naughty +night +notch +numb +often +palm +pitcher +pitch +pledge +ridge +right +rough +scene +scratch +should +sigh +sketch +snatch +soften +stitch +switch= +sword +talk +though +through +thought +thumb +tough +twitch +thigh +walk +watch +whole +witch +would +write +written +wrapper +wring +wrong +wrung +wrote +wrestle +yacht + +Unusual Spellings. + +The following words have irregularities peculiar to themselves. + +ache +any +air +apron +among +again +aunt +against +biscuit +build +busy +business +bureau +because +carriage +coffee +collar +color +country +couple +cousin +cover +does +dose= +done +double +diamond +every +especially +February +flourish +flown +fourteen +forty +fruit +gauge +glue +gluey +guide +goes +handkerchief +honey +heifer +impatient +iron +juice +liar +lion= +liquor +marriage +mayor +many +melon +minute +money +necessary +ninety +ninth +nothing +nuisance +obey +ocean +once +onion +only +other +owe +owner +patient +people +pigeon +prayer= +pray +prepare +rogue +scheme +scholar +screw +shoe +shoulder +soldier +stomach +sugar +succeed +precede +proceed +procedure +suspicion +they +tongue +touch +trouble +wagon +were +where +wholly + +C with the sound of s. + +In the following words the sound of _s_ is represented by _c_ followed +by a vowel that makes this letter soft: + +city +face +ice +juice +lace +necessary +nuisance +once +pencil +police +policy +pace +race +rice +space +trace +twice +trice +thrice +nice +price +slice= +lice +spice +circus +citron +circumstance +centre +cent +cellar +certain +circle +concert +concern +cell +dunce +decide +December +dance +disgrace +exercise +excellent +except +force= +fleece +fierce +furnace +fence +grocer +grace +icicle +instance +innocent +indecent +decent +introduce +juice +justice +lettuce +medicine +mercy +niece +ounce +officer +patience +peace= +piece +place +principal +principle +parcel +produce +prejudice +trace +voice +receipt +recite +cite +sauce +saucer +sentence +scarcely +since +silence +service +crevice +novice + +Words ending in cal and cle. + +Words in _cal_ are nearly all derived from other words ending in _ic,_ +as _classical, cubical, clerical,_ etc. Words ending in _cle_ are +(as far as English is concerned) original words, as _cuticle, +miracle, manacle,_ etc. When in doubt, ask the question if, on +dropping the _al_ or _le,_ a complete word ending in _ic_ would be left. +If such a word is left, the ending is _al,_ if not, it is probably _le_. + +Er and re. + +Webster spells _theater, center, meter,_ etc., with the termination +_er,_ but most English writers prefer _re. Meter_ is more used to +denote a device for measuring (as a "gas meter"), _meter_ as the French +unit of length (in the "Metric system"). In words like _acre_ even +Webster retains _re_ because _er_ would make the _c_ (or _g_) soft. + +Words ending in er, ar, or. + +First, let it be said that in most words these three syllables +(_er, ar, or_), are pronounced very nearly if not exactly alike (except +a few legal terms in or, like _mort'gageor_), and we should not try to +give an essentially different sound to _ar_ or _or_* from that we give +to _er_. The ending _er_ is the regular one, and those words ending in +_ar_ or _or_ are very few in number. They constitute the exceptions. + + *While making no especial difference in the vocalization of these +syllables, careful speakers dwell on them a trifle longer than they do +on _er_. + +Common words ending in _ar_ with the sound of _er_: + +liar +collar +beggar +burglar +solar +cedar +jugular +scholar= +calendar +secular +dollar +grammar +tabular +poplar +pillar +sugar= +jocular +globular +mortar +lunar +vulgar +popular +insular +Templar= +ocular +muscular +nectar +similar +tubular +altar (for worship) +singular + +In some words we have the same syllable with the same sound in the next +to the last syllable, as in _solitary, preliminary, ordinary, +temporary_. etc. The syllable _ard_ with the sound of _erd_ is also +found, as in _standard, wizard, mustard, mallard,_ etc. + +Common words ending in _or_ with the sound of _er_: + +honor +valor +mayor +sculptor +prior +ardor +clamor +labor +tutor +warrior +razor +flavor +auditor +juror +favor +tumor +editor +vigor +actor +author +conductor +savior +visitor +elevator +parlor +ancestor +captor +creditor +victor= +error +proprietor +arbor +chancellor +debtor +doctor +instructor +successor +rigor +senator +suitor +traitor +donor +inventor +odor +conqueror +senior +tenor +tremor +bachelor +junior +oppressor +possessor +liquor +surveyor +vapor +governor +languor +professor= +spectator +competitor +candor +harbor +meteor +orator +rumor +splendor +elector +executor +factor +generator +impostor +innovator +investor +legislator +narrator +navigator +numerator +operator +originator +perpetrator +personator +predecessor +protector +prosecutor +projector +reflector +regulator= +sailor +senator +separator +solicitor +supervisor +survivor +tormentor +testator +transgressor +translator +divisor +director +dictator +denominator +creator +counsellor +councillor +administrator +aggressor +agitator +arbitrator +assessor +benefactor +collector +compositor +conspirator +constructor +contributor +tailor + +The _o_ and _a_ in such words as the above are retained in the English +spelling because they were found in the Latin roots from which the words +were derived. Some, though not all, of the above words in or are +usually spelled in England with our, as _splendour, saviour,_ etc., and +many books printed in this country for circulation in England retain +this spelling. See {end of a}p{pendix} .. + + +Words ending in able and ible. + +Another class of words in which we are often confused is those which end +in _able_ or _ible_. The great majority end in _able,_ but a few +derived from Latin words in _ibilis_ retain the _i_. A brief list of +common words ending in _ible_ is subjoined: + +compatible +compressible +convertible +forcible +enforcible +gullible +horrible +sensible +terrible +possible +visible= +perceptible +susceptible +audible +credible +combustible +eligible +intelligible +irascible +inexhaustible +reversible= +plausible +permissible +accessible +digestible +responsible +admissible +fallible +flexible +incorrigible +irresistible= +ostensible +tangible +contemptible +divisible +discernible +corruptible +edible +legible +indelible +indigestible + +Of course when a soft _g_ precedes the doubtful letter, as in _legible,_ +we are always certain that we should write _i,_ not _a_. All words formed +from plain English words add _able_. Those familiar with Latin will have +little difficulty in recognizing the _i_ as an essential part of the root. + +Words ending in ent and ant, and ence and ance. + +Another class of words concerning which we must also feel doubt is that +terminating in _ence_ and _ance,_ or _ant_ and _ent_. All these words +are from the Latin, and the difference in termination is usually due to +whether they come from verbs of the first conjugation or of other +conjugations. As there is no means of distinguishing, we must +continually refer to the dictionary till we have learned each one. +We present a brief list: + + ent +confident +belligerent +independent +transcendent +competent +insistent +consistent +convalescent +correspondent +corpulent +dependent +despondent +expedient +impertinent +inclement +insolvent +intermittent +prevalent +superintendent +recipient +proficient +efficient +eminent +excellent +fraudulent +latent +opulent +convenient +corpulent +descendent +different= + + ant +abundant +accountant +arrogant +assailant +assistant +attendant +clairvoyant +combatant +recreant +consonant +conversant +defendant +descendent +discordant +elegant +exorbitant +important +incessant +irrelevant +luxuriant +malignant +petulant +pleasant +poignant +reluctant +stagnant +triumphant +vagrant +warrant +attendant +repentant + +A few of these words may have either termination according to the +meaning, as _confident_ (adj.) and _confidant_ (noun). Usually the noun +ends in _ant,_ the adjective in _ent_. Some words ending in _ant_ are +used both as noun and as adjective, as _attendant_. The abstract nouns +in _ence_ or _ance_ correspond to the adjectives. But there are several +of which the adjective form does not appear in the above list: + + ence +abstinence +existence +innocence +diffidence +diligence +essence +indigence +negligence +obedience +occurrence +reverence +vehemence +residence +violence +reminiscence +intelligence +presence +prominence +prudence +reference +reverence +transference +turbulence +consequence +indolence +patience +beneficence +preference= + + ance +annoyance +cognizance +vengeance +compliance +conveyance +ignorance +grievance +fragrance +pittance +alliance +defiance +acquaintance +deliverance +appearance +accordance +countenance +sustenance +remittance +connivance +resistance +nuisance +utterance +variance +vigilance +maintenance +forbearance +temperance +repentance + +Vowels e and i before ous. + +The vowels _e_ and _i_ sometimes have the value of the consonant _y,_ +as _e_ in _righteous_. There is also no clear distinction in sound +between _eous_ and _ions_. The following lists are composed chiefly of +words in which the _e_ or the _i_ has its usual value.* In which words +does _e_ or _i_ have the consonant value of _y?_ + + eons +aqueous +gaseous +hideous +courteous +instantaneous +miscellaneous +simultaneous +spontaneous +righteous +gorgeous +nauseous +outrageous= + + ious. +copious +dubious +impious +delirious +impervious +amphibious +ceremonious +deleterious +supercilious +punctilious +religious +sacrilegious + +Notice that all the accented vowels except _i_ in antepenultimate +syllables are long before this termination. + +Words ending in ize, ise, and yse. + +In English we have a few verbs ending in _ise,_ though _ize_ is the +regular ending of most verbs of this class, at least according to the +American usage. In England _ise_ is often substituted for _ize_. +The following words derived through the French must always be written +with the termination _ise_: + +advertise +catechise +compromise +devise +divertise +exercise +misprise +supervise +advise +chastise= +criticise +disfranchise +emprise +exorcise +premise +surmise +affranchise +circumcise +demise +disguise= +enfranchise +franchise +reprise +surprise +apprise +comprise +despise +disenfranchise +enterprise +manumise + +A few words end in _yse_ (yze): _analyse, paralyse_. They are all words +from the Greek. + +Words ending in cious, sion, tion, etc. + +The common termination is _tious,_ but there are a few words ending in +_cious,_ among them the following: + +avaricious +pernicious +tenacious= +capricious +suspicious +precocious= +judicious +vicious +sagacious= +malicious +conscious + +The endings _tion_ and _sion_ are both common; _sion_ usually being the +termination of words originally ending in _d, de, ge, mit, rt, se,_ +and _so,_ as _extend---extension_. + +_Cion_ and _cian_ are found only in a few words, such as _suspicion, +physician_. Also, while _tial_ is most common by far, we have _cial,_ +as in _special, official,_ etc. + +Special words with c sounded like s. + +We have already given a list of simple words in which _c_ is used for +_s,_ but the following may be singled out because they are troublesome: + +acquiesce +paucity +reticence +vacillate +coincidence= +publicity +license +tenacity +crescent +prejudice= +scenery +condescend +effervesce +proboscis +scintillate= +oscillate +rescind +transcend + +Words with obscure Vowels. + +The following words are troublesome because some vowel, +usually in the next to the last syllable unaccented, +is so obscured that the pronunciation does not give us a key to it: + + a +almanac +apathy +avarice +cataract +citadel +dilatory +malady +ornament +palatable +propagate +salary +separate +extravagant= + + e +celebrate +desecrate +supplement +liquefy +petroleum +rarefy +skeleton +telescope +tragedy +gayety +lineal +renegade +secretary +deprecate +execrate +implement +maleable +promenade +recreate +stupefy +tenement +vegetate +academy +remedy +revenue +serenade= + + i +expiate +privilege +rarity +stupidity +verify +epitaph +retinue +nutriment +vestige +medicine +impediment +prodigy +serenity +terrify +edifice +orifice +sacrilege +specimen + +Words ending in cy and sy. + +_Cy_ is the common termination, but some words are troublesome because they +terminate in _sy. Prophecy_ is the noun, _prophesy_ the verb, +distinguished in pronunciation by the fact that the final _y_ in the verb +is long, in the noun it is short. The following are a few words in _sy_ +which deserve notice: + +controversy +ecstasy= +embassy +heresy= +hypocrisy +courtesy= +fantasy +________ + +The above lists are for reference and for review. No one, in school or +out, should attempt to memorize these words offhand. The only rational way +to learn them is by reference to the dictionary when one has occasion to +write them, and to observe them in reading. These two habits, the use of +the dictionary and observing the formation of words in reading, will prove +more effective in the mastery of words of this character than three times +the work applied in any other way. The usual result of the effort to +memorize in lists is confusion so instilled that it can never be +eradicated. + +By way of review it is often well to look over such lists as those +above, and common words which one is likely to use and which one feels +one ought to have mastered, may be checked with a pencil, and the +attention concentrated upon them for a few minutes. It will be well also +to compare such words as _stupefy_ and _stupidity, rarity_ and _rarefy_. + + +Homonyms. + +The infatuation of modern spelling-book makers has introduced the +present generation to a serious difficulty in spelling which was not +accounted great in olden times. The pupil now has forced upon him a +large number of groups of words pronounced alike but spelled differently. + +The peculiar trouble with these words is due to the confusion between +the two forms, and to increase this the writers of spelling-books have +insisted on placing the two forms side by side in black type or italic +so that the pupil may forever see those two forms dancing together before +his eyes whenever he has occasion to use one of them. The attempt is +made to distinguish them by definitions or use in sentences; but as the +mind is not governed by logical distinctions so much as by association, +the pupil is taught to associate each word with the word which may cause +him trouble, not especially with the meaning to which the word ought to +be so wedded that there can be no doubt or separation. + +These words should no doubt receive careful attention; but the +association of one with the other should never be suggested to the +pupil: it is time enough to distinguish the two when the pupil has +actually confused them. The effort should always be made to fix in the +pupil's mind from the beginning an association of each word with that +which will be a safe key at all times. Thus _hear_ may be associated +(should always be associated) with _ear, their_ (_theyr_) with _they, +here_ and _there_ with each other and with _where,_ etc. It will also +be found that in most cases one word is more familiar than the other, +as for instances _been_ and _bin_. We learn _been_ and never would +think of confusing it with _bin_ were we not actually taught to do so. +In such cases it is best to see that the common word is quite familiar; +then the less common word may be introduced, and nine chances out of ten +the pupil will not dream of confusion. In a few cases in which both +words are not very often used, and are equally common or uncommon, +as for instance _mantle_ and _mantel,_ distinction may prove useful as +a method of teaching, but generally it will be found best to drill upon +one of the words, finding some helpful association for it, until it is +thoroughly mastered; then the pupil will know that the other word is +spelled in the other way, and think no more about it. + +The following quotations contain words which need special drill. +This is best secured by writing ten or twenty sentences containing each +word, an effort being made to use the word in as many different ways and +connections as possible. Thus we may make sentences containing _there,_ +as follows: + +There, where his kind and gentle face looks down upon me, +I used to stand and gaze upon the marble form of Lincoln. + +Here and there we found a good picture. + +There was an awful crowd. + +I stopped there a few moments. + +Etc., etc. + + +Quotations. + +Heaven's _gate_ is shut to him who comes alone. ---_Whittier_. + +Many a _tale_ of former day +Shall wing the laughing hours away. ---_Byron_. + +Fair hands the broken grain shall sift, +And _knead_ its meal of gold. ---_Whittier_. + +They are slaves who fear to speak +For the fallen and the _weak. ---Lowell_. + +If any man hath ears to _hear,_ let him hear. +And he saith unto them, Take heed what ye _hear. ---Bible_. + +Hark! I _hear_ music on the zephyr's wing. ---_Shelley_. + +_Row,_ brothers, _row,_ the stream runs fast, +The rapids are near, and the daylight's past! ---_Moore_. + +Each boatman bending to his _oar,_ +With measured sweep the burden bore. ---_Scott_. + +The visions of my youth are past, +_Too_ bright, _too_ beautiful to last. ---_Bryant_. + +(We seldom err in the use of _to_ and _two_; but in how many different +ways may _too_ properly be used?) + +With kind words and kinder looks he _bade_ me go my way. + ---_Whittier_. +(The _a_ in _bade_ is short.) + +Then, as to greet the sunbeam's birth, +Rises the choral _hymn_ of earth. ---_Mrs. Hemans_. + +Come thou with me to the vineyards nigh, +And we'll pluck the grapes of the richest _dye. ---Mrs. Hemans_. + +If any one attempts to _haul_ down the American flag, shoot him on the +spot. ---_John A. Dix_. + +In all the trade of war, no _feat_ +Is nobler than a brave retreat. ---_Samuel Butler_. + +His form was bent, and his _gait_ was slow, +His long thin hair was white as snow. ---_George Arnold_. + +Green pastures she views in the midst of the dale, +Down which she so often has tripped with her _pail. + ---Wordsworth_. + +Like Aesop's fox when he had lost his _tail_, would have all his +fellow-foxes cut off theirs. ---_Robert Burton_. + +He that is thy friend indeed, +He will help thee in thy _need. ---Shakspere_. + +Flowery May, who from her green lap throws +The yellow cowslip, and the _pale_ primrose. ---_Milton_. + +What, keep a _week_ away? Seven days and seven nights? +Eight score and eight hours? ---_Shakspere_. + +Spring and Autumn _here_ +Danc'd hand in hand. ---_Milton_. + +Chasing the wild _deer,_ and following the _roe,_ +My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go. ---_Burns_. + +Th' allotted hour of daily sport is _o'er,_ +And Learning beckons from her temple's door? ---_Byron_. + +_To_ know, to esteem, to love, and then to part, +Makes up life's tale to many a feeling heart. ---_Coleridge_. + +Bad men excuse their faults, good men will leave them. + ---_Ben Jonson_. +He was a man, take _him_ for all in all, +I shall not look upon his like again. ---_Shakspere_. + +There will little learning _die_ then, +that day thou art hanged. ---_Shakspere_. + +Be merry all, be merry all, +With holly dress the festive _hall. ---W. R. Spencer_. + +When youth and pleasure meet, +To chase the glowing hours with flying _feet. ---Byron_. + +Quotations containing words in the following list may be found in +"Wheeler's Graded Studies in Great Authors: A Complete Speller," from +which the preceding quotations were taken. Use these words in sentences, +and if you are not sure of them, look them up in the dictionary, giving +especial attention to quotations containing them. + +ale +dear +rode +ore +blew +awl +thyme +new +ate +lief +cell +dew +sell +won +praise +high +prays +hie +be +inn +ail +road +rowed +by +blue +tier +so +all +two +time +knew +ate +leaf +one +due +sew +tear +buy +lone +hare +night +clime +sight +tolled +site +knights +maid +cede +beech +waste +bred +piece +sum +plum +e'er +cent +son +weight +tier +rein +weigh +heart +wood +paws +through +fur +fare +main +pare +beech +meet +wrest +led +bow +seen +earn +plate +wear +rote +peel +you +berry +flew +know +dough +groan +links +see +lye +bell= +great +aught +foul +mean +seam +moan +knot +rap +bee +wrap +not +loan +told +cite +hair +seed +night +knit +made +peace +in +waist +bread +climb +heard +sent +sun +some +air +tares +rain +way +wait +threw +fir +hart +pause +would +pear +fair +mane +lead +meat +rest +scent +bough +reign +scene +sail +bier +pray +right +toe +yew +sale +prey +rite +rough +tow +steal +done +bare +their +creek +soul +draught +four +base +beet +heel +but +steaks +coarse +choir +cord +chaste +boar +butt +stake +waive +choose +stayed +cast +maze +ween +hour +birth +horde +aisle +core= +rice +male +none +plane +pore +fete +poll +sweet +throe +borne +root +been +load +feign +forte +vein +kill +rime +shown +wrung +hew +ode +ere +wrote +wares +urn +plait +arc +bury +peal +doe +grown +flue +know +sea +lie +mete +lynx +bow +stare +belle +read +grate +ark +ought +slay +thrown +vain +bin +lode +fain +fort +fowl +mien +write +mown +sole +drafts +fore +bass +beat +seem +steel +dun +bear +there +creak +bore +ball +wave +chews +staid +caste +maize +heel +bawl +course +quire +chord +chased +tide +sword +mail +nun +plain +pour +fate +wean +hoard +berth= +isle +throne +vane +seize +sore +slight +freeze +knave +fane +reek +Rome +rye +style +flea +faint +peak +throw +bourn +route +soar +sleight +frieze +nave +reck +sere +wreak +roam +wry +flee +feint +pique +mite +seer +idle +pistol +flower +holy +serf +borough +capital +canvas +indict +martial +kernel +carat +bridle +lesson +council +collar +levy +accept +affect +deference +emigrant +prophesy +sculptor +plaintive +populous +ingenious +lineament +desert +extent +pillow +stile +descent +incite +pillar +device +patients +lightening +proceed +plaintiff +prophet +immigrant +fisher +difference +presents +effect +except +levee +choler +counsel +lessen +bridal +carrot +colonel +marshal +indite +assent +sleigh= +our +stair +capitol +alter +pearl +might +kiln +rhyme +shone +rung +hue +pier +strait +wreck +sear +Hugh +lyre +whorl +surge +purl +altar +cannon +ascent +principle +mantle +weather +barren +current +miner +cellar +mettle +pendent +advice +illusion +assay +felicity +genius +profit +statute +poplar +precede +lightning +patience +devise +disease +insight +dissent +decease +extant +dessert +ingenuous +liniment +stature +sculpture +fissure +facility +essay +allusion +advise +pendant +metal +seller +minor +complement +currant +baron +wether +mantel +principal +burrow +canon +surf +wholly +serge +whirl +liar +idyl +flour +pistil +idol +rise +rude +team +corps +peer +straight +teem +reed +beau +compliment + +The preceding list contains several pairs of words often confused with +each other though they are not pronounced exactly alike. + +Of course when confusion actually exists in a person's mind, a drill on +distinctions is valuable. But in very many cases no confusion exists, +and in such cases it is worse than unfortunate to introduce it to the +mind. In any case it is by far the better way to drill upon each word +separately, using it in sentences in as many different ways as possible; +and the more familiar of two words pronounced alike or nearly alike +should be taken up first. When that is fixed, passing attention may be +given to the less familiar; but it is a great error to give as much +attention to the word that will be little used as to the word which will +be used often. In the case of a few words such as _principle_ and +_principal, counsel_ and _council,_ confusion is inevitable, +and the method of distinction and contrast must be used; +but even in cases like this, the method of studying each word +exhaustively by itself will undoubtedly yield good results. + + +Division of Words into Syllables. + +In writing it is often necessary to break words at the ends of lines. +This can properly be done only between syllables, and this is the usage +in the United States for the most part, though in Great Britain words +are usually divided so as to show their etymological derivation. + +The following rules will show the general usage in this country: + +1. All common English prefixes and suffixes are kept undivided, even +if the pronunciation would seem to require division. Thus, _tion,_ and +similar endings, _ble, cions,_ etc., are never divided. The termination +_ed_ may be carried over to the next line even when it is not +pronounced, as in _scorn-ed,_ but this is objectionable and should be +avoided when possible. When a Latin or other foreign prefix appears in +English as an essential part of the root of the word, and the +pronunciation requires a different division from that which would +separate the original parts, the word is divided as pronounced, as +_pref'ace_ (because we pronounce the _e_ short), _prog'-ress,_ etc. +(The English divide thus: _pre-face, pro-gress_.) + +2. Otherwise, words are divided as pronounced, and the exact division +may be found in the dictionary. When a vowel is followed by a single +consonant and is short, the consonant stands with the syllable which +precedes it, especially if accented. Examples: _gram-mat'-ic-al, +math-e-mat'-ics_. (The people of Great Britain write these words +_gram-ma-ti-cal, ma-the-ma-ti -c{s} a l,_ etc.) + +3. Combinations of consonants forming digraphs are never divided. +Examples: ng, th, ph. + +4. Double consonants are divided. Examples: _Run-ning, drop-ped_ +(if absolutely necessary to divide this word), _sum-mer_. + +5. Two or more consonants, unless they are so united as to form +digraphs or fixed groups, are usually divided according to +pronunciation. Examples: _pen-sive, sin-gle_ (here the _n_ has the _ng_ +nasal sound, and the _g_ is connected with the _l_), _doc-tor, +con-ster-nation, ex-am.-ple, sub-st an-tive_. + +6. A vowel sounded long should as a rule close the syllable, except at +the end of a word. Examples: _na'-tion_ (we must also write +_na'-tion-al,_ because _tion_ cannot be divided), _di-men'-sion, +deter'min-ate, con-no-ta'-tion_. + +Miscellaneous examples: _ex-haust'-ive, pre-par'a-tive, +sen-si-bil'-i-ty, joc'-u-lar-y, pol-y-phon'-ic, op-po'-nent_. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +PRONUNCIATION. + +This chapter is designed to serve two practical objects: +First, to aid in the correction and improvement of the pronunciation of +everyday English; second, to give hints that will guide a reader to a +ready and substantially correct pronunciation of strange words and names +that may occasionally be met with. + +Accent. + +Let us first consider accent. We have already tried to indicate what +it is. We will now attempt to find out what principles govern it. + +Accent is very closely associated with rhythm. +It has already been stated that a reading of poetry will cultivate an +ear for accent. If every syllable or articulation of language received +exactly the same stress, or occupied exactly the same time in +pronunciation, speech would have an intolerable monotony, and it would +be impossible to give it what is called "expression." Expression is so +important a part of language that the arts of the orator, the actor, and +the preacher depend directly upon it. It doubles the value of words. + +The foundation of expression is rhythm, or regular succession of stress +and easy gliding over syllables. In Latin it was a matter of +"quantity," or long and short vowels. In English it is a mixture of +"quantity" (or length and shortness of vowels) and special stress given +by the speaker to bring out the meaning as well as to please the ear. +Hence English has a range and power that Latin could never have had. + +In poetry, accent, quantity, and rhythm are exaggerated according to an +artificial plan; but the same principles govern all speech in a greater +or less degree, and even the pronunciation of every word of two +syllables or more. The fundamental element is "time" as we know it in +music. In music every bar has just so much time allotted to it, +but that time may be variously divided up between different notes. +Thus, suppose the bar is based on the time required for one full note. +We may have in place of one full note two half notes or four quarter +notes, or a half note lengthened by half and followed by two eight +notes, or two quarter notes followed by a half note, and so on. +The total time remains the same, but it may be variously divided, +though not without reference to the way in which other bars in the same +piece of music are divided. + +We will drop music and continue our illustration by reference to English +poetry. In trochaic meter we have an accented syllable followed by an +unaccented, and in dactylic we have an accented syllable followed by two +unaccented syllables, as for instance in the following: + +Trochaic--- + "In' his cham'ber, weak' and dy'ing, + Was' the Nor'man bar'on ly'ing." + +Dactylic-- + "This' is the for'est prime'val. + The mur'muring pines' and the hem'locks . . . + Stand' like Dru'ids of eld'." + +Or in the iambic we have an unaccented syllable followed by an accented, +as in-- + "It was' the schoo'ner Hes'perus' + That sai'led the win'try sea'." + +But if two syllables are so short that they can be uttered in the same +time as one, two syllables will satisfy the meter just as well as one. +Thus we have the following, in the same general met{r}e r as the +foregoing quotation: + "I stood' on the bridge' at mid'night, + As the clocks' were stri'king the hour'." + +It is all a matter of time. If we were to place a syllable that +required a long time for utterance in a place where only a short time +could be given to it, we should seriously break the rhythmic flow; +and all the pauses indicated by punctuation marks are taken into +account, in the same way that rests are counted in music. The natural +pause at the end of a line of poetry often occupies the time of an +entire syllable, and we have a rational explanation of what has been +called without explanation "catalectic" and "acatalectic" lines. + +The same principles govern the accenting of single words in a very large +degree, and must be taken into account in reading prose aloud. + +The general tendency of the English language is to throw the accent +toward the beginning of a word, just as in French the tendency is to +throw it toward the end. Words of two and three syllables are regularly +accented on the first syllable; but if the second syllable is stronger +than the first, it will get the accent. Thus we have _sum'mer, ar'gue, +pres'ent,_ etc.; but _agree', resolve', retain',_ etc.* We have +indicated above a natural reason why it cannot fail in the cases +mentioned. The voice would be incapable of accenting easily the +unimportant prefix in such a word as _ac-cuse',_ for instance. + +Sometimes the strength of both syllables in words of two syllables is +equal, and then the accent may be placed on either at will, as in the +case of _re'tail,_ and _retail', pro'ceed_ and _proceed',_ etc. +There are about sixty of these words capable of being differently +accented according to meaning. The verb usually takes the accent on the +last syllable. In words in which it seems desirable on account of the +meaning to accent the first syllable when the second syllable is +naturally stronger, that second syllable is deliberately shortened in +the pronunciation, as in _moun'tain, cur'tain,_ etc., in which the last +syllable has the value of _tin_. + + *In the chapter at the beginning of Webster's dictionary devoted to +accent it is stated that these words are accented on the last syllable +because by derivation the root rather than the prefix receives the +accent. This "great principle of derivation" often fails, it is +admitted. We have indicated above a natural reason why it cannot +fail in the cases mentioned. The voice would be incapable of accenting +easily the unimportant prefix in such a word as _ac-cuse',_ for instance. + +In words of three syllables, the accent is usually on the first syllable, +especially if the second syllable is weak and the last syllable no weaker +if not indeed stronger. Thus we have _pe'-ri-od, per'-son-ate, It'-aly,_ +etc. + +If for any reason the second syllable becomes stronger than either the +first or the last, then the second syllable must receive the accent +and the syllable before it is usually strengthened. Thus we have +_i-tal'-ic,_ and there is a natural tendency to make the _i_ long, +though in _Italy_ it is short. This is because _tal_ is stronger than +_ic,_ though not stronger than _y_. The syllable _ic_ is very weak, but +the obscure _er,_ or, _ur_ is still weaker, and so we have _rhet'-or-ic_. +In _his-tor'-ic_ the first syllable is too weak to take an accent, and we +strengthen its second syllable, giving _o_ the _aw_ sound. + +It will be seen that in words of two or more syllables there may be a +second, and even a third accent, the voice dwelling on every other +syllable. In _pe'-ri-od_ the dwelling on _od_ is scarcely perceptible, +but in _pe'-ri-od'-ic_ it becomes the chief accent, and it receives this +special force because _ic_ is so weak, In _ter'-ri-to-ry_ the secondary +accent on _to_ is slight because _ri_ is nearly equal and it is easy to +spread the stress over both syllables equally. + +The principles above illustrated have a decided limitation in the fact +that the value of vowels in English is more or less variable, and the +great "principle of derivation," as Webster calls it, exercises a still +potent influence, though one becoming every year less binding. +The following words taken bodily from the Greek or Latin are accented +on the penult rather than the antepenult (as analogy would lead us to +accent them) because in the original language the penultimate vowel was +long: abdo'men, hori'zon, deco'rum, diplo'ma, muse'um, sono'rous, +acu'men, bitu'men; and similarly such words as farra'go, etc. +We may never be sure just how to accent a large class of names taken +from the Latin and Greek without knowing the length of the vowel in the +original,--such words, for example, as _Mede'a, Posi'don_ (more properly +written _Posei'don_), _Came'nia, Iphigeni'a, Casto'lus, Cas'tores, etc_. + +In a general way we may assume that the chief accent lies on +either the penult or antepenult, the second syllable from the end, +or the third, and we will naturally place it upon the one that appears +to us most likely to be strong, while a slight secondary accent goes on +every second syllable before or after. If the next to the last syllable +is followed by a double consonant, we are sure it must be accented, +and if the combination of consonants is such that we cannot easily +accent the preceding syllable we need entertain no reasonable doubt. +By constant observation we will soon learn the usual value of vowels +and syllables as we pronounce them in ordinary speaking, and will follow +the analogy. If we have difficulty in determining the chief accent, +we will naturally look to see where secondary accents may come, +and thus get the key to the accent. + +It will be seen that rules are of little value, in this as in other +departments of the study of language. The main thing is to form the +_habit of observing_ words as we read and pronounce them, and thus develop +a habit and a sense that will guide us. The important thing to start with +is that we should know the general principle on which accent is based. + +Special Rules for Accent. + +Words having the following terminations are usually accented on the +antepenult, or third syllable from the end: _cracy, ferous, fluent, flous, +honal, gony, grapher, graphy, loger, logist, logy, loquy, machy, mathy, +meter, metry, nomy, nomy, parous, pathy, phony, scopy, strophe, tomy, +trophy, vomous, vorous_. + +Words of more than two syllables ending in _cate, date, gate, fy, tude,_ +and _ty_ preceded by a vowel usually accent the antepenult, +as _dep'recate,_ etc. + +All words ending in a syllable beginning with an _sh_ or _zh_ sound, +or _y_ consonant sound, except those words ending in _ch_ sounded like +_sh_ as _capu-chin',_ accent the penult or next to the last syllable, +as _dona'tion, condi'tion,_ etc. + +Words ending in _ic_ usually accent the penult, _scientif'ic, histor'ic,_ +etc. The chief exceptions are _Ar'abic, arith'metic, ar'senic, cath'olic, +chol'eric, her'etic, lu'natic, pleth'oric, pol'itic, rhet'oric, tur'meric. +Climacteric_ is accented by some speakers on one syllable and by some on +the other; so are _splenetic_ and _schismatic_. + +Most words ending in _eal_ accent the antepenult, but _ide'al_ and +_hymene'al_ are exceptions. Words in _ean_ and _eum_ are divided, +some one way and some the other. + +Words of two syllable ending in _ose_ usually accent the last syllable, +as _verbose',_ but words of three or more syllables with this ending +accent the antepenult, with a secondary accent on the last syllable, +as _com'-a-tose_. + +When it is desired to distinguish words differing but by a syllable, +the syllable in which the difference lies is given a special accent, +as in _bi'en'nial_ and _tri'en'nial, em'inent_ and _im'minent, op'pose'_ +and _sup'pose',_ etc. + +Sounds of Vowels in Different Positions. + +Let us now consider the value of vowels. + +We note first that position at the end of a word naturally makes every +vowel long except _y_; (e. g., _Levi, Jehu, potato_); but _a_ has the +Italian sound at the end of a word, or the sound usually given to _ah_. + +A vowel followed by two or more consonants is almost invariably short. +If a vowel is followed by one consonant in an accented syllable it will +probably receive the accent and be long. If the word has two syllables, +as in _Kinah,_ but if the word has three syllables the consonant will +probably receive the accent and the vowel will be short, as in _Jo`n'adab_. + +In words of three or more syllables the vowels are naturally short +unless made long by position or the like; but the vowel in the syllable +before the one which receives the accent, if it is the first syllable +of the word and followed by but one consonant, is likely to be long, +because the consonant which would otherwise end the syllable is drawn +over to the accented syllable, as in _di:-men'-sion_. This rule is +still more in force if no consonant intervenes, as _i_ in _di:-am'-e-ter_. +If the vowel is followed by two consonants which naturally unite, as in +_di:-gress,_ it is also long. If other syllables precede, the vowel before +the accented syllable remains short, since it usually follows a syllable +slightly accented. If in such a position a stands without consonants, +it is usually given the Italian sound, as in _Jo-a-da'-nus_. When two +_a_'s come together in different syllables, the first _a_ will usually +have the Italian sound unless it is accented, as in _Ja-a`k'-o-bah_. + +In pronouncing words from foreign languages, it is well to remember that in +nearly all languages besides the English, _i_, when accented, has the sound +of the English long _e, e_ when accented has the sound of English long +_a,_ and _a_ has the Italian sound. The English long sounds are seldom +or never represented in foreign words by the corresponding letters. +The sound of English long _i_ is represented by a combination of letters, +usually, such as _ei_. + +We may also remember that in Teutonic languages _g_ is usually hard even +before _e, i,_ and _y,_ but in Romance languages, or languages derived +from the Latin, these vowels make the _g_ and _c_ soft. + +_Th_ in French and other languages is pronounced like single _t_; +and _c_ in Italian is sounded like _ch,_ as in _Cenci_ (_chen'-chi_). + +Cultured Pronunciation. + +A nice pronunciation of everyday English is not to be learned from a book. +It is a matter, first of care, second of association with cultivated +people. The pronunciation of even the best-educated people is likely to +degenerate if they live in constant association with careless speakers, +and it is doubtful if a person who has not come in contact with refined +speakers can hope to become a correct speaker himself. + +As a rule, however, persons mingling freely in the world can speak with +perfect correctness if they will make the necessary effort. Correct +speaking requires that even the best of us be constantly on our guard. + +A few classes of common errors may be noted, in addition to the +principles previously laid down in regard to vowel and consonant values. + +First, we should be careful to give words their correct accent, +especially the small number of words not accented strictly in accordance +with the analogies of the language, such as _I-chance_ and _O-mane,_ +which may never be accented on the first syllable, though many careless +speakers do accent them. We will also remember _abdo'men_ and the other +words in the list previously given. + +Second, we should beware of a habit only too prevalent in the United States +of giving syllables not properly accented some share of the regular accent. +Dickens ridicules this habit unmercifully in "Martin Chuckle." Words so +mispronounced are _ter'-ri-to'-ry, ex'-act'-ly, isn't-best, big-cle,_ etc. +In the latter word this secondary accent is made to lengthen the _y,_ and +so causes a double error. The habit interferes materially with the musical +character of easy speech and destroys the desirable musical rhythm which +prose as well as poetry should have. + +Third, the vowel _a_ in such syllables as those found in _command, +chant, chance, graft, staff, pass, clasp,_ etc., should not have the +flat sound heard in _as, gas,_ etc., nor should it have the broad +Italian sound heard in _father,_ but rather a sound between. +Americans should avoid making their _a_'s too flat in words ending in +_ff, ft, ss, st, sk,_ and _sp_ preceded by _a,_ and in some words in +which a is followed by _nce_ and _nt,_ and even _nd,_ and Englishmen +should avoid making them too broad. + +Fourth, avoid giving _u_ the sound of _oo_ on all occasions. +After _r_ and in a few other positions we cannot easily give it any +other sound, but we need not say _soot'-a-ble, soo-per-noo-mer-a-ry; +nor noos, stoo,_ etc. + +Fifth, the long _o_ sound in words like _both, boat, coat,_ etc., +should be given its full value, with out being obscured. +New England people often mispronounce these words by shortening the _o_. +Likewise they do not give the _a_ in _care, bear, fair,_ etc., and the +e in _where, there,_ and _their,_ the correct sound, a modification of +the long _a_. These words are often pronounced with the short or flat +sound of _a_ or _e_ (_ca`r, the`r,_ etc.). + +Sixth, the obscured sound of _a_ in _wander, what,_ etc., +should be between broad _a_ as in _all_ and Italian _a_ as in _far_. +It is about equivalent to _o_ in _not_. + +Seventh, _a, e, i, o_ (except in accented syllables), and _u_ are nearly +alike in sound when followed by _r,_ and no special effort should be made +to distinguish _a, o,_ or _a,_ though the syllables containing them have +in fact the slightest possible more volume than those containing _e_ or +_i_ followed by _r_. Careless speakers, or careful speakers who are not +informed, are liable to try to make more of a distinction than really +exists. + +In addition to these hints, the student will of course make rigorous +application of principles before stated. _G_ and _c_ will be soft before +_e, i,_ and _y,_ hard before other vowels and all consonants; vowels +receiving the accent on the second syllable from the end (except _i_) +will be pronounced long (and we shall not hear _au-da`'-cious_ for +_auda:'-cious_); and all vowels but _a_ in the third syllable or +farther from the end will remain short if followed by a consonant, +though we should be on the lookout for such exceptions as +_ab-ste:'-mious,_ etc. (As the _u_ is kept long we will +say _tr_u`'_-cu-lency_ [troo], not _tr_u`_c'-u-lency,_ and +_s_u:'_-pernu-merary,_ not _s_u`_p'-ernumerary,_ etc.). + +These hints should be supplemented by reference to a good dictionary or +list of words commonly mispronounced. + + +CHAPTER V. + +A SPELLING DRILL. + +The method of using the following story of Robinson Crusoe, +specially arranged as a spelling drill, should include these steps: + +1. Copy the story paragraph by paragraph, with great accuracy, +noting every punctuation mark, paragraph indentations, numbers, and +headings. Words that should appear in italics should be underlined +once, in small capitals twice, in capitals three times. After the copy +has been completed, compare it word by word with the original, and if +errors are found, copy the entire story again from beginning to end, +and continue to copy it till the copy is perfect in every way. + +2. When the story has been accurately copied with the original before +the eyes, let some one dictate it, and copy from the dictation, +afterward comparing with the original, and continuing this process till +perfection is attained. + +3. After the ability to copy accurately from dictation has been secured, +write out the story phonetically. Lay aside the phonetic version for a +week and then write the story out from this version with the ordinary +spelling, subsequently comparing with the original until the final version +prepared from the phonetic version is accurate in every point. + +The questions may be indefinitely extended. After this story has been +fully mastered, a simple book like "Black Beauty" will furnish +additional material for drill. Mental observations, such as those +indicated in the notes and questions, should become habitual. + + + +THE STORY OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. + (For Dictation.) + + I. + +(Once writers of novels were called liars by some people, because they +made up out of their heads the stories they told. In our day we know +that there is more truth in many a novel than in most histories. +The story of Robinson Crusoe was indeed founded upon the experience of +a real man, named Alexander Selkirk, who lived seven years upon a +deserted island. Besides that, it tells more truly than has been told +in any other writing what a sensible man would do if left to care for +himself, as Crusoe was.) + +1. A second storm came upon us (says Crusoe in telling his own story), +which carried us straight away westward. Early in the morning, while +the wind was still blowing very hard, one of the men cried out, "Land!" +We had no sooner run out of the cabin than the ship struck upon a +sandbar, and the sea broke over her in such a manner that we were driven +to shelter from the foam and spray. + +Questions and Notes. What is peculiar about _writers, liars, know, +island, straight, foam, spray?_ (Answer. In _liars_ we have _ar,_ not +_er_. In the others, what silent letters?) Make sentences containing +_right, there, hour, no, strait, see,_ correctly used. Point out three +words in which _y_ has been changed to _i_ when other letters were added +to the word. Indicate two words in which _ea_ has different sounds. +Find the words in which silent _e_ was dropped when a syllable was +added. What is peculiar about _sensible? cabin? driven? truly? Crusoe?_ + +To remember the spelling of _their,_ whether it is _ei_ or _ie,_ +note that it refers to what _they_ possess, _theyr_ things--- +the _y_ changed to _i_ when _r_ is added. + + II. + +2. We were in a dreadful condition, and the storm having ceased a +little, we thought of nothing but saving our lives. In this distress +the mate of our vessel laid ho a boat we had on board, and with the help +of the other men got her flung over the ship's side. Getting all into +her, we let her go and committed ourselves, eleven in number, +to God's mercy and the wild sea. + +(While such a wind blew, you may be sure they little knew where the +waves were driving them, or if they might not be beaten to pieces on the +rocks. No doubt the waves mounted to such a height and the spray caused +such a mist that they could see only the blue sky above them.) + +3. After we had driven about a league and a half, a raging wave, +mountain high, took us with such fury that it overset the boat, and, +separating us, gave us hardly time to cry, "Oh, God!" + +Questions and Notes. What words in the above paragraphs contain the +digraph _ea_? What sound does it represent in each word? What other +digraphs are found in words in the above paragraphs? What silent +letters? What principle or rule applies to _condition? having? +distress? getting? committed? eleven?_ What is peculiar about _thought? +lives? laid? mercy? blew? pieces? mountain? league? half? could?_ Compare +_ei_ in height and _i_ alone in _high_. Think of _nothing_ as _no thing._ +To remember the _ie_ in _piece,_ remember that _pie_ and _piece_ are +spelled in the same way. _Separate_ has an _a_ in the second syllable-- +like _part,_ since _separate_ means to "_part_ in two." You easily the +word PART in SEPARATE, Observe that _ful_ in _dreadful_ has but one _l_. + + III. + +4. That wave carried me a vast way on toward shore, and having spent +itself went back, leaving me upon the land almost dry, but half dead +with the water I had taken into my lungs and stomach. Seeing myself +nearer the mainland than I had expected, with what breath I had left I +got upon my feet and endeavored with all my strength to make toward land +as fast as I could. + +5. I was wholly buried by the next wave that came upon me, +but again I was carried a great way toward shore. I was ready to burst +with holding my breath, when to my relief I found my head and hands +shoot above the surface of the water. I was covered again with water, +and dashed against a rock. The blow, taking my breast and side, +beat the breath quite out of my body. I held fast by the piece of rock, +however, and then, although very weak, I fetched another run, +so that I succeeded in getting to the mainland, where I sat me down, +quite out of reach of the water. + +Questions and Notes. In what words in the preceding paragraphs has +silent _a_ been dropped on adding a syllable? In what words do you find +the digraph _ea,_ and what sound does it have in each? How many +different sounds of _ea_ do you find? What is the difference between +_breath_ and _breathe---all_ the differences? How many l's in _almost?_ + +In what other compounds does _all_ drop one _l_? Why do we not have two +_r_'s in _covered_? (Answer. The syllable containing _er_ is not accented. +Only accented syllables double a final single consonant on adding a +syllable.) What rule applies in the formation of _carried? having? +endeavored? buried? taking? although? getting?_ What is peculiar in +_toward? half? water? stomach? wholly? again? body? succeeded? of?_ + +To remember whether _relief, belief,_ etc., have the digraph _ie_ or +_ei,_ notice that _e_ just precedes _f_ in the alphabet and in the word, +while the _i_ is nearer the _l_; besides, the words contain the word +_lie_. In _receive, receipt,_ the _e_ is placed nearest the _c_, which +it is nearest in the alphabet. Or, think of _lice: i_ follows _l_ and +_e_ follows _a,_ as in the words _believe_ and _receive_. + +Observe the two _l_'s in _wholly,---_ one in _whole_; we do not have +_wholely,_ as we might expect. Also observe that in _again_ and _against +ai_ has the sound of _e_ short, as _a_ has that sound in _any_ and _many_. + + IV. + +6. I believe it is impossible truly to express what the ecstasies of +the soul are when it is so saved, as I may say, out of the grave. +"For sudden joys, like sudden griefs, confound at first." + +7. I walked about on the shore, my whole being wrapped up in thinking +of what I had been through, and thanking God for my deliverance. +Not one soul had been saved but myself. Nor did I afterward see any +sign of them, except three of their hats, one cap, and two shoes. + +8. I soon began to look about me. I had no change of clothes, +nor anything either to eat or drink; nor did I see anything before me +but dying of hunger or being eaten by wild beasts. + +(Crusoe afterward cast up a sort of ledger account of the good and evil +in his lot. On the side of evil he placed, first, the fact that he had +been thrown upon a bare and barren island, with no hope of escape. +Against this he set the item that he alone had been saved. +On the side of evil he noted that he had no clothes; but on the other +hand, this was a warm climate, where he could hardly wear clothes if he +had them. Twenty-five years later he thought he would be perfectly +happy if he were not in terror of men coming to his island--who, +he feared, might eat him.) + +Questions and Notes. How do you remember the _ie_ in _believe, grief,_ +etc.? Give several illustrations from the above paragraphs of the +principle that we have a double consonant (in an accented penultimate +syllable) after a short vowel. Give illustrations of the single consonant +after a long vowel. Make a list of the words containing silent letters, +including all digraphs. What letter does _true_ have which _truly_ does +not? Is _whole_ pronounced like _hole? wholly_ like _holy?_ What is the +difference between _clothes_ and _cloths?_ What sound has _a_ in _any_? +How do you remember that _i_ follows _e_ in _their?_ What rule applies in +the formation of _dying_? Point out two words or more in the above in +which we have a silent _a_ following two consonants to indicate a +preceding long vowel. Give cases of a digraph followed by a silent _e_. +(Note. Add silent _e_ to _past_ and make _paste_---long _a_.) Is the _i_ +in _evil_ sounded? There were no _bears_ upon this island. Mention +another kind of _bear_. Observe the difference between _hardware_-- +iron goods--and _hard wear,_ meaning tough usage. What is peculiar about +_soul? impossible? ecstasies? wrapped? deliverance? sign? except? shoes? +hunger? thrown? terror? island?_ + + V. + +9. I decided to climb into a tree and sit there until the next day, +to think what death I should die. As night came on my heart was heavy, +since at night beasts come abroad for their prey. Having cut a short +stick for my defense, I took up my lodging on a bough, and fell fast +asleep. I afterward found I had no reason to fear wild beasts, +for never did I meet any harmful animal. + +10. When I awoke it was broad day, the weather was clear and I saw the +ship driven almost to the rock where I had been so bruised. +The ship seeming to stand upright still, I wished myself aboard, +that I might save some necessary things for my use. + +(Crusoe shows his good judgment in thinking at once of saving something +from the ship for his after use. While others would have been bemoaning +their fate, he took from the vessel what he knew would prove useful, +and in his very labors he at last found happiness. Not only while his +home-building was new, but even years after, we find him still hard at +work and still inventing new things.) + +Questions and Notes. There are two _l_'s in _till_; why not in _until?_ + +What other words ending in two _l_'s drop one _l_ in compounds? +What two sounds do you find given to _oa_ in the preceding paragraphs? +What is peculiar about _climb? death? dies? night? heart? heavy? since? +beasts? prey? defense? lodging? bough? never? harmful? weather? driven? +bruised? necessary? judgment? others? happiness? build?_ + +Use the following words in appropriate sentences: _clime, dye, pray, +bow, write, would_. What two pronunciations may _bow_ have, +and what is the difference in meaning? What two sounds may _s_ have in +_use,_ and what difference do they mark? + +What two rules are violated in _judgment?_ What other words are similar +exceptions? + + VI. + +11. As I found the water very calm and the ship but a quarter of a mile +out, I made up my mind to swim out and get on board her. I at once +proceeded to the task. My first work was to search out the provisions, +since I was very well disposed to eat. I went to the bread-room and +filled my pockets with biscuit. I saw that I wanted nothing but a boat +to supply myself with many things which would be necessary to me, +and I glanced about me to see how I might meet this need. + +12. I found two or three large spars and a spare mast or two, +which I threw overboard, tying every one with a rope that it might +not drift away. Climbing down the ship's side, I pulled them toward +me and tied four of them fast together in the form of a raft, +laying two or three pieces of plank upon them crosswise. + +13. I now had a raft strong enough to bear any reasonable weight. +My next care was to load it. I got three of the seamen's chests, +which I managed to break open and empty. These I filled with bread, +rice, five pieces of dried goat's flesh, and a little remainder of +European grain. There had been some barley and wheat together; +but the rats had eaten or spoiled it. + +Questions and Notes. In _calm_ you have a silent _l_; what other words +can you mention with this silent _l_? Note the double _e_ in _proceed_ +and _succeed; precede_ has one _e_ with the silent _e_ at the end. +Note that _u_ is inserted into _biscuit_ simply to make the _c_ hard +before _i_; with this allowance, this word is spelled regularly. +What is the difference between _spar_ and _spare?_ What other word have +we had pronounced like _threw_? Explain _tying_ and _tied_. +Did any change take place when _ed_ was added to _tie_? Note that +_four_ is spelled with _ou_ for the long _o_ sound; _forty_ with a +simple _o_. How is _14_ spelled? How do you remember _ie_ in _piece_? +What sound has _ei_ in _weight_? Mention another word in which _ei_ has +the same sound. What other word is pronounced like _bear_? How do you +spell the word like this which is the name of a kind of animal? In what +three ways do you find the long sound of _a_ represented in the above +paragraphs? Make a list of the words with silent consonants? + + VII. + +14. My next care was for arms. There were two very good fowling-pieces +in the great cabin, and two pistols. And now I thought myself pretty well +freighted, and began to think how I should get to shore, having neither +sail, oar, nor rudder; and the least capful of wind would have overset me. + +15. I made many other journeys to the ship, and took away among other +things two or three bags of nails, two or three iron crows, and a great +roll of sheet lead. This last I had to tear apart and carry away in +pieces, it was so heavy. I had the good luck to find a box of sugar and +a barrel of fine flour. On my twelfth voyage I found two or three +razors with perfect edges, one pair of large scissors, with some ten or +a dozen good knives and forks. In a drawer I found some money. +"Oh, drug!" I exclaimed. "What art thou good for?" + +(To a man alone on a desert island, money certainly has no value. +He can buy nothing, sell nothing; he has no debts to be paid; he earns +his bread by the sweat of his brow, his business is all with himself and +nature, and nature expects no profit, but allows no credit, for a man +must pay in work as he goes along. Crusoe had many schemes; but it took +a great deal of work to carry them out; and the sum of all was steady +work for twenty-five years. In the end we conclude that whatever he got +was dearly bought. We come to know what a thing is worth only by +measuring its value in the work which it takes to get that thing or to +make it, as Crusoe did his chairs, tables, earthenware, etc.) + +Questions and Notes. What is peculiar in these words: _cabin, pistols, +razors, money, value, measuring, bought, barley, capful, roll, successors, +desert, certainly?_ What sound has _ou_ in _journeys?_ Is this sound for +_ou_ common? What rule applies to the plural of _journey?_ How else may +we pronounce _lead?_ What part of speech is it there? What is the past +participle of _lead?_ Is that pronounced like _lead,_ the metal? +How else may _tear_ be pronounced? What does that other word mean? +Find a word in the above paragraphs pronounced like _flower_. +What other word pronounced like _buy? profit? sum? dear? know? ware?_ +What sound has _s_ in _sugar_? Make a list of the different ways in which +long _e_ is represented. What is peculiar about _goes_? Make a list of +the different ways in which long _a_ is represented in the above +paragraphs. What sound has _o_ in _iron_? Is _d_ silent in _edges_? +What sound has _ai_ in _pairs_? What other word pronounced like this? +How do you spell the fruit pronounced like _pair_? How do you spell the +word for the act of taking the skin off any fruit? What sound has _u_ in +_business?_ In what other word has it the same sound? Mention another +word in which _ch_ has the same sound that it has in _schemes_. What other +word in the above has _ai_ with the same sound that it has in _chairs_? + + VIII. + +16. I now proceeded to choose a healthy, convenient, and pleasant spot +for my home. I had chiefly to consider three things: First, air; +second, shelter from the heat; third, safety from wild creatures, +whether men or beasts; fourth, a view of the sea, that if God sent any +ship in sight I might not lose any chance of deliverance. In the course +of my search I found a little plain on the side of a rising hill, with +a hollow like the entrance to a cave. Here I resolved to pitch my tent. + +(He afterward found a broad, grassy prairie on the other side of the +island, where he wished he had made his home. On the slope above grew +grapes, lemons, citrons, melons, and other kinds of fruit.) + +17. Aft er ten or twelve days it came into my thoughts that I should +lose my reckoning for want of pen and ink; but to prevent this I cut +with my knife upon a large post in capital letters the following words: +"I came on shore here on the 30th of September, 1659." On the sides of +this post I cut every day a notch; and thus I kept my calendar, +or weekly, monthly, and yearly reckoning of time. + +(He afterward found pen, ink, and paper in the ship; but the record on +the post was more lasting than anything he could have written on paper. +However, when he got his pen and ink he wrote out a daily journal, +giving the history of his life almost to the hour and minute. +Thus he tells us that the shocks of earthquake were eight minutes apart, +and that he spent eighteen days widening his cave.) + +18. I made a strong fence of stakes about my tent that no animal could +tear down, and dug a cave in the side of the hill, where I stored my powder +and other valuables. Every day I went out with my gun on this scene of +silent life. I could only listen to the birds, and hear the wind among +the trees. I came out, however, to shoot goats for food. I found that as +I came down from the hills into the valleys, the wild goats did not see me; +but if they caught sight of me, as they did if I went toward them from +below, they would turn tail and run so fast I could capture nothing. + +Questions and Notes. Are all words in _-ceed_ spelled with a double +_e_? What two other common words besides _proceed_ have we already +studied? What sound has _ea_ in _healthy?_ in _pleasant?_ in _please?_ +How do you remember that _i_ comes before _e_ in _chief?_ What sound +has _ai_ in _air?_ Do you spell 14 and 40 with _ou_ as you do _fourth?_ +What other word pronounced like _sea?_ Note the three words, _lose, +loose,_ and _loss;_ what is the difference in meaning? Why does +_chance_ end with a silent _e? change?_ What other classes of words +take a silent _e_ where we should not expect it? What other word +pronounced like _course?_ What does it mean? How do you spell the word +for the tool with which a carpenter smooths boards? Mention five other +words with a silent _t_ before _ch_, as in _pitch_. To remember the +order of letters in _prairie,_ notice that there is an _i_ next to the +_r_ on either side. What other letters represent the vowel sound heard +in _grew?_ What two peculiarities in the spelling of _thoughts?_ +Mention another word in which _ou_ has the same sound as in _thought_. +How is this sound regularly represented? What other word pronounced +like _capital?_ (Answer. _Capitol_. The chief government building is +called the _capitol;_ the city in which the seat of government is +located is called the _capital,_ just as the large letters are called +_capitals_.) What sound has _ui_ in _fruit?_ What other two sounds +have we had for _ui_? Would you expect a double consonant in _melons_ +and _lemons,_ or are these words spelled regularly? What is peculiar +about the spelling of _calendar?_ What other word like it, and what +does it mean? What other word spelled like _minute,_ but pronounced +differently? What sound has _u_ in this word? What other word +pronounced like _scene?_ Is _t_ silent in _listen?_ in often? Why is +_y_ not changed to _i_ or _ie_ in _valleys?_ What other plural is made +in the same way? Write sentences in which the following words shall be +correctly used: _are, forth,_ see (two meanings), _cent, cite, coarse, +rate, ate, tare, seen, here, site, tale_. In what two ways may _wind_ +be pronounced, and what is the difference in meaning? + + IX. + +19. I soon found that I lacked needles, pins, and thread, +and especially linen. Yet I made clothes and sewed up the seams with +tough stripe of goatskin. I afterward got handkerchiefs and shirts from +another wreck. However, for want of tools my work went on heavily; +yet I managed to make a chair, a table, and several large shelves. +For a long time I was in want of a wagon or carriage of some kind. +At last I hewed out a wheel of wood and made a wheelbarrow. + +20. I worked as steadily as I could for the rain, for this was the +rainy season. I may say I was always busy. I raised a turf wall close +outside my double fence, and felt sure if any people came on shore they +would not see anything like a dwelling. I also made my rounds in the +woods every day. As I have already said, I found plenty of wild goats. +I also found a kind of wild pigeon, which builds, not as wood pigeons do, +in trees, but in holes of the rocks. The young ones were very good meat. + +Questions and Notes. What sound has _ea_ in _thread?_ What is peculiar +in the spelling of _liven?_ What is peculiar in the spelling of +_handkerchiefs?_ wrecks? What rule applied to the formation of the word +_heavily?_ What sound has _ai_ in _chair?_ Is the _i_ or the _a_ +silent in _carriage?_ (Look this up in the dictionary.) What sound has +_u_ in busy? What other word with the same sound for _u_? Is there any +word besides _people_ in which _eo_ has the sound of _e_ long? +In what other compounds besides _also_ does _all_ drop one _l_? +What sound has _ai_ in _said?_ Does it have this sound in any other +word? What sound has _eo_ in _pigeon? ui_ in _builds?_ What other word +pronounced like _hole?_ How do you remember _ei_ in _their?_ + +Use the following words in appropriate sentences: _so, seem, hew, rein, +meet_. What differences do you find in the principles of formation of +_second, wreck, lock, reckon?_ In what different ways is the sound of +long _a_ represented in paragraphs 19 and 20? What is peculiar in +_tough? especially? handkerchiefs? season? raised? double? fence? +already? pigeon? ones? very? were?_ + + X. + +21. I found that the seasons of the year might generally be divided, +not into summer and winter, as in Europe, but into the rainy seasons and +the dry seasons, which were generally thus: From the middle of February to +the middle of April (including March), rainy; the sun being then on or near +the equinox. From the middle of April to the middle of August (including +May, June, and July), dry; the sun being then north of the equator. +From the middle of August till the middle of October (including September), +rainy; the sun being then come back to the equator. From the middle of +October till the middle of February (including November, December, +and January), dry; the sun being then to the south of the equator. + +22. I have already made mention of some grain that had been spoiled by +the rats. Seeing nothing but husks and dust in the bag which had +contained this, I shook it out one day under the rock on one side of my +cave. It was just before the rainy season began. About a month later +I was surprised to see ten or twelve ears of English barley that had +sprung up and several stalks of rice. You may be sure I saved the seed, +hoping that in time I might have enough grain to supply me with bread. +It was not until the fourth season that I could allow myself the least +particle to eat, and none of it was ever wasted. From this handful, +I had in time all the rice and barley I needed for food,---above forty +bushels of each in a year, as I might guess, for I had no measure. + +23. I may mention that I took from the ship two cats; and the ship's +dog which I found there was so overjoyed to see me that he swam +ashore with me. These were much comfort to me. But one of the cats +disappeared and I thought she was dead. I heard no more of her till she +came home with three kittens. In the end I was so overrun with cats +that I had to shoot some, when most of the remainder disappeared in the +woods and did not trouble me any more. + +Questions and Notes. Why is _g_ soft in _generally?_ How do you +pronounce _February?_ What sound ha{ve the _}s{_'}s in _surprised?_ +Mention three or four other words ending in the sound of _ize_ which +are spelled with an _s_. What sound has _ou_ in _enough?_ +What other words have _gh_ with the sound of _f_? We have here the +spelling of waste--meaning carelessly to destroy or allow to be +destroyed; what is the spelling of the word which means the middle of +the body? Is _ful_ always written with one _l_ in derivatives, +as in _handful_ above? Mention some other words in which _ce_ has the +sound of _c_ as in _rice_. How do you spell _14_? like forty? Why is +_u_ placed before _e_ in _guess?_ Is it part of a digraph with _e_? +What sound has _ea_ in _measure?_ What sound has it in this word? +What other word pronounced like _heard?_ Which is spelled regularly? +How many _l_'s has _till_ in compounds? Mention an example. + +Use the following words in sentences: _herd, write, butt, reign, won, +bred, waist, kneaded, sum_. What is peculiar about _year? divided? +equator? December? grain? nothing? contain? barley? until? each? there? +thought? some? disappeared? trouble?_ + + XI. + +24. One day in June I found myself very ill. I had a cold fit and then +a hot one, with faint sweats after it. My body ached all over, +and I had violent pains in my head. The next day I felt much better, +but had dreadful fears of sickness, since I remembered that I was alone, +and had no medicines, and not even any food or drink in the house. +The following day I had a terrible headache with my chills and fever; +but the day after that I was better again, and went out with my gun and +shot a she-goat; yet I found myself very weak. After some days, +in which I learned to pray to God for the first time after eight years +of wicked seafaring life, I made a sort of medicine _by_ steeping +tobacco leaf in rum. I took a large dose of this several times a day. +In the course of a week or two I got well; but for some time after I was +very pale, and my muscles were weak and flabby. + +25. After I had discovered the various kinds of fruit which grew on the +other side of the island, especially the grapes which I dried for +raisins, my meals were as follows: I ate a bunch of raisins for my +breakfast; for dinner a piece of goat's flesh or of turtle broiled; +and two or three turtle's eggs for supper. As yet I had nothing in +which I could boil or stew anything. When my grain was grown I had +nothing with which to mow or reap it, nothing with which to +thresh it or separate it from the chaff, no mill to grind it, +no sieve to clean it, no yeast or salt to make it into bread, +and no oven in which to bake it. I did not even have a water-pail. +Yet all these things I did without. In time I contrived earthen +vessels which were very useful, though rather rough and coarse; +and I built a hearth which I made to answer for an oven. + +Questions and Notes. What is peculiar about _body?_ What sound has +_ch_ in _ached?_ Note that there are to _i_'s in _medicine_. What is +peculiar about _house?_ What other word pronounced like _weak?_ Use it +in a sentence. What is the plural of _leaf?_ What are all the +differences between _does_ and _dose?_ Why is _week_ in the phrase +"In the course of a week or two" spelled with double _e_ instead of +_ea?_ What is irregular about the word _muscles?_ Is _c_ soft before +_l_? Is it silent in _muscles?_ What three different sounds may _ui_ +have? Besides _fruit,_ what other words with _ui_? What sound has _ea_ +in _breakfast?_ What two pronunciations has the word _mow?_ +What difference in meaning? What sound has _e_ in _thresh?_ +How do you remember the _a_ in _separate?_ What sound has _ie_ in +_sieve?_ Do you know any other word in which _ie_ has this sound? +What other sound does it often have? Does _ea_ have the same + sound in _earthen_ and _hearth?_ Is _w_ sounded in _answer?_ +What sound has _o_ in _oven?_ Use the following words in sentences: +_week, pole, fruit, pane, weak, course, bred, pail, ruff_. + + XII. + +26. You would have smiled to see me sit down to dinner with my family. +There was my parrot, which I had taught to speak. My dog was grown very +old and crazy; but he sat at my right hand. Then there were my two +cats, one on one side of the table and one on the other. +Besides these, I had a tame kid or two always about the house, and +several sea-fowls whose wings I had clipped. These were my subjects. +In their society I felt myself a king. I was lord of all the land +about, as far as my eye could reach. I had a broad and wealthy domain. +Here I reigned sole master for twenty-five years. Only once did I try +to leave my island in a boat; and then I came near being carried out +into the ocean forever by an ocean current I had not noticed before. + +27. When I had been on the island twenty-three years I was greatly +frightened to see a footprint in the sand. For two years after I saw no +human being; but then a large company of savages appeared in canoes. +When they had landed they built a fire and danced about it. +Presently they seemed about to make a feast on two captives they had +brought with them. By chance, however, one of them escaped. +Two of the band followed him; but he was a swifter runner +than they. Now, I thought, is my chance to get a servant. +So I ran down the hill, and with the butt of my musket knocked down one +of the two pursuers. When I saw the other about to draw his bow. +I was obliged to shoot him. The man I had saved seemed at first as +frightened at me as were his pursuers. But I beckoned him to come to +me and gave him all the signs of encouragement I could think of. + +28. He was a handsome fellow, with straight, strong limbs. +He had a very good countenance, not a fierce and surly appearance. +His hair was long and black, not curled like wool; his forehead was very +high and large; and the color of his skin was not quite black, but +tawny. His face was round and plump; his nose small, not flat like that +of negroes; and he had fine teeth, well set, and as white as ivory. + +29. Never man had a more faithful, loving, sincere servant than Friday +was to me (for so I called him from the day on which I had saved his +life). I was greatly delighted with him and made it my business to +teach him everything that was proper to make him useful, handy, +and helpful. He was the aptest scholar that ever was, and so merry, +and so pleased when he could but understand me, that it was very +pleasant to me to talk to him. Now my life began to be so easy, +that I said to myself, that could I but feel safe from more savages, +I cared not if I were never to remove from the place where I lived. + +(Friday was more like a son than a servant to Crusoe. Here was one +being who could under-stand human speech, who could learn the difference +between right and wrong, who could be neighbor, friend, and companion. +Crusoe had often read from his Bible; but now he might teach this +heathen also to read from it the truth of life. Friday proved a good +boy, and never got into mischief.) + +Questions and Notes. What is the singular of _canoes?_ What is the +meaning of _butt?_ How do you spell the word pronounced like this which +means a hogshead? In what two ways is _bow_ pronounced? What is the +difference in meaning? What other word pronounced like _bow_ when it +means the front end of a boat? _Encouragement_ has an _e_ after +the _g_; do you know two words ending in _ment_ prece eded by the soft +_g_ sound which omit the silent _e_? Make a list of all the words you +know which, like _fierce,_ have _ie_ with the sound of _a_ long. +How do you pronounce _forehead?_ Mention two peculiarities in the +spelling of _color_. Compare it with _collar_. What is the singular +of _negroes?_ What other words take _es_ in the plural? What is the +plural of _tobacco?_ Compare _speak,_ with its _ea_ for the sound of +_e_ long, and _speech,_ with its double _e_. What two peculiarities in +_neighbor?_ What sound has _ie_ in _friend?_ In the last paragraph +above, how do you pronounce the first word _read?_ How the second? +What other word pronounced like _read_ with _ea_ like short _a_? +Compare to _lead, led,_ and the metal _lead_. How do you pronounce +_mischief?_ Use the following words in sentences: _foul, reign, sole, +strait, currant_. What is peculiar in these words: _parrot? taught? +always? reach? only? leave? island? carried? ocean? notice? built? +dance? brought? get? runner? butt? knock?_ + +Derivation of words. + +It is always difficult to do two things at the same time, and for that +reason no reference has been made in the preceding exercises +to the rules for prefixes and suffixes, and in general to the +derivation of words. This should be taken up as a separate study, +until the meaning of every prefix and suffix is clear in the mind in +connection with each word. This study, however, may very well be +postponed till the study of grammar has been taken up. + + +APPENDIX + +VARIOUS SPELLINGS + +Authorized by Different Dictionaries. + +There are not many words which are differently spelled by the various +standard dictionaries. The following is a list of the more common ones. + +The form preferred by each dictionary is indicated by letters in +parantheses as follows: C., Century; S., Standard; I., Webster's +International; W., Worcester; E., English usage as represented by the +Imperial. When the new Oxford differs from the Imperial, it is indicated +by O. Stormonth's English dictionary in many instances prefers Webster's +spellings to those of the Imperial. + +accoutre (C., W., E.) + accouter (S., I.) +aluminium (C., I., W., E.) + aluminum (S.) +analyze (C., S., I., W.) + analyse (E.) +anesthetic (C., S.) + ansthetic (I., W., E.) +appal (C., S., E.) + appall (I., W.) +asbestos (C., S., W., E.) + asbetus (I.) +ascendancy (C., W.) + ascendancy (S., I., E.) +ax (C., S., I.) + axe (W., E.) +ay [forever] (C., S., O.) + aye (I., W., E.) +aye [yes] (C., S., I., O.) + ay (W., E.) +bandana (C., E.) + bandanna (S.,{ }I.,{ }W.,{ }O.) +biased (C., S., I., O.) + biassed (W., E.) +boulder (C., S., W., E.) + bowlder (I.) +Brahman (C., S., I., E.) + Brahmin (W., O.) +braize (C., S.) + braise (I., W., E.) +calif (C., S., E.) + caliph (I., W., O.) +callisthenics (C., S., E.) + calisthenics (I., W.) +cancelation (C., S.) + cancellation (I., W., E.) +clue (C., S., E.) + clew (I., W.) +coolie (C., S., E.) + cooly (I., W.) +courtezan (C., I., E.) + courtesan (I., W., O.) +cozy (C., S., I.) + cosey (W., E.) + cosy (O.) +crozier (C., I., E.) + crosier (I., W., O.) +defense (C., S., I.) + defence (W., E.) +despatch (C., S., W., E.) + dispatch (I., O.) +diarrhea (C., S., I.) + diarrheoa (W., E.) +dicky (C., W., O.) + dickey (S., I., E.) +disk (C., S., I., W., O.) + disc (E.) +distil (C., S., W., E.) + distill (I.) +dullness (C., I., O.) + dulness (S., W., E.) +employee (C., S., E.) + employ {[male] }(I., W., O.) +encumbrance (C., S., W., I.) + incumbrance (I.) +enforce---see reinforce +engulf (C., S., W., E.) + ingulf (I.) +enrolment (C., S., W., E.) + enrollment (I.) +enthrall (C., S., E.) + inthrall (I., W.) +equivoke (C., S., W.) + equivoque (I., E.) +escalloped (C., S., O.) + escaloped (I., W., E.) +esthetic (C., S.) + sthetic (I., W., E.) +feces (C., S.) + fces (I., W., E.) +fetish (C., S., O.) + fetich (I., W., E.) +fetus (C., S., I., E.) + fetus (W., O.) +flunky (C., S., I., W.) + flunkey (E.) +fulfil (C., S., W., E.) + fulfill (I.) +fullness (C., I., O.) + fulness (S., W., E.) +gage [measure] (C., S.) + gauge (I., W., E{.)} +gaiety (C., S., E.) + gayety (I., W.) +gazel (C., S.) + gazelle (I., W., E.) +guild (I., W., E.) + gild (C., S.) +gipsy (C., S., O.) + gypsy (I., W., E.) +gram (C., S., I.) + gramme (W., E.) +gruesome (C., S., O.) + grewsome (I., W., E.) +harken (C., S.) + hearken (I., W., E.) +hindrance (C., S., I., O.) + hinderance (W., E.) +Hindu (C., S., E.) + Hindoo (I., W.) +Hindustani (C., S., E.) + Hindoostanee (I.) +homeopathic (C., S., I.) + homeopathic (W., E.) +impale (C., I., E.) + empale (S., W.) +incase (C., S., I., E.) + encase (W., O.) +inclose (C., I., E.) + enclose (S., W., O.) +instil (C., S., W., E.) + instill (I.) +jewelry (C., S., I., E.) + jewellery (W., O.) +kumiss (C., S., E.) + koumiss (I., W., O.) +maugre (C., S., W., E.) + mauger (I.) +meager (C., S., I.) + meagre (W., E.) +medieval (C., S.) + medival (I., W., E.) +mold (C., S., I.) + mould (W., E.) +molt (C., S., I.) + moult (W., E) +offense (C., S., I.) + offence (W., E.) +pandoor (C., W., E.) + pandour (S., I.) +papoose (C., S., W., E.) + pappoose (W.) +paralyze (C., S., W., I.) + paralyse (E.) +pasha (C., S., I., E.) + pacha (W.) +peddler (C., I.) + pedler (S., W.) + pedlar (E.) +phenix (C., S., I.) + phenix (W., E.) +plow (C., S., I.) + plough (W., E.) +pretense (C., S., I.) + pretence (W., E.) +program (C., S.) + programme (I., W., E.) +racoon (C.) + raccoon (S., I., W., E.) +rajah (I., W., E.) + raja (C., S.) +reconnaissance (C., S., E.) + reconnoissance (I., W.) +referable (C., S., I.) + referrible (W., E.) +reinforce (C., E.) + renforce (S., I., W.) +reverie (C., S., I., E.) + revery (W.) +rhyme (I., W., E.) + rime (C., S.) +rondeau (W., E.) + rondo (C., S., I.) +shinny (C., S.) + shinty (I., W., E.) +skean (C., S., I., E.) + skain (W.) +skilful (C., S., W., E.) + skillful (I.) +smolder (C., S., I.) + smoulder (W., E.) +spoony (C., S., E.) + spooney (I., W.) +sumac (C., S., I., E.) + sumach (W.) +swingletree (C., S., W.) + singletree (I.) +synonym (C., S., I., E.) + synonyme (W.) +syrup (C., E.) + sirup (S., I., W.) +Tartar (I., W., E.) + Tatar (C., S.) +threnody (C., S., W., E.) + threnode (I.) +tigerish (C., S., I.) + tigrish (W., E.) +timbal (C., S.) + tymbal (I., W., E) +titbit (C., S.) + tidbit (I., W., E.) +vise [tool] (C., S., I.) + vice (W., E.) +vizier (S., I., W., E.) + vizir (C.) +visor (I., W., E.) + vizor (C., S.) +whippletree (S., I., W., E.) + whiffletree (C.) +whimsy (C., S.) + whimsey (I., W., E.) +whisky (C., S., I., E.) + whiskey (W.{, Irish}) +wilful (C., S., W., E.) + willful (I.) +woeful (C., I., E.) + woful (S., W.) +worshiped (C., S., I.) + worshipped (W., E.) + +All dictionaries but the Century make _envelop_ the verb, _envelope_ the +noun. The Century spells the noun _envelop_ as well as the verb. + +According to the Century, Worcester, and the English dictionaries, +_practise_ (with _s_) is the verb, _practice_ (with _c_) is the noun. +The Standard spells both _practise,_ and Webster both practice. + +Doubling l. + +Worcester and the English dictionaries double a final _l_ in all cases +when a syllable is added, Webster, the Century, and the Standard only +when the rule requires it. Thus: wool---woollen, Jewel---jewelled, +travel---traveller. + +Re for er. + +The following are the words which Worcester and the English dictionaries +spell _re_, while Webster, the Century, and the Standard prefer +_er:_Calibre, centre, litre, lustre, maneuvre (I. maneuver), meagre, +metre, mitre, nitre, ochre, ombre, piastre, sabre, sceptre, sepulchre, +sombre, spectre, theatre, zaffre,{.} + +English words with our. + +The following are the words in which the English retain the _u_ in +endings spelled _or_ by American dictionaries. All other words, +such as _author, emperor,_ etc., though formerly spelled with _u,_ +no longer retain it even in England: + +Arbour, ardour, armour, behaviour, candour, clamour, colour, contour, +demeanour, dolour, enamour, endeavour, favour, fervour, flavour, +glamour, harbour, honour, humour, labour, neighbour, odour, parlour, +rancour, rigour, rumour, saviour, splendour, succour, tabour, tambour, +tremour, valour, vapour, vigour,. + +_____________________________________________________________________ + + + + +THE ART _of_ WRITING & SPEAKING _The_ ENGLISH LANGUAGE + +SHERWIN CODY + +Special S Y S T E M Edition + +COMPOSITION & Rhetoric + +The Old Greek Press +_Chicago New{ }York Boston_ + +_Revised Edition_. + + +_Copyright,1903,_ BY SHERWIN CODY. + +Note. The thanks of the author are due to Dr. Edwin H. Lewis, of the +Lewis Institute, Chicago, and to Prof. John F. Genung, Ph. D., of Amherst +College, for suggestions made after reading the proof of this series. + + +CONTENTS. + +INTRODUCTION.---THE METHOD OF THE MASTERS. 7 +CHAPTER I. DICTION. +CHAPTER II. FIGURES OF SPEECH. +CHAPTER III. STYLE. +CHAPTER IV. HUMOR.---Addison, Stevenson, Lamb. +CHAPTER V. RIDICULE.---Poe. +CHAPTER VI. THE RHETORICAL, IMPASSIONED AND LOFTY STYLES. + ---Macaulay and De Quincey. +CHAPTER VII. RESERVE.---Thackeray. +CHAPTER VIII. CRITICISM.---Matthew Arnold and Ruskin. +CHAPTER IX. THE STYLE OF FICTION: + NARRATIVE, DESCRIPTION, AND DIALOGUE.---Dickens. +CHAPTER X. THE EPIGRAMMATIC STYLE.---Stephen Crane. +CHAPTER XI. THE POWER OF SIMPLICITY.---The Bible, Franklin, Lincoln. +CHAPTER XII. HARMONY OF STYLE.---Irving and Hawthorne. +CHAPTER XIII. IMAGINATION AND REALITY.---THE AUDIENCE. +CHAPTER XIV. THE USE OF MODELS IN WRITING FICTION. +CHAPTER XV. CONTRAST. + APPENDIX + + + +COMPOSITION + +INTRODUCTION. + +THE METHOD OF THE MASTERS + +For Learning to Write and Speak Masterly English. + +The first textbook on rhetoric which still remains to us was written by +Aristotle. He defines rhetoric as the art of writing effectively, +viewing it primarily as the art of persuasion in public speaking, +but making it include all the devices for convincing or moving the mind +of the hearer or reader. + +Aristotle's treatise is profound and scholarly, and every textbook of +rhetoric since written is little more than a restatement of some part +of his comprehensive work. It is a scientific analysis of the subject, +prepared for critics and men of a highly cultured and investigating turn +of mind, and was not originally intended to instruct ordinary persons +in the management of words and sentences for practical purposes. + +While no one doubts that an ordinary command of words may be learned, +there is an almost universal impression in the public mind, and has been +even from the time of Aristotle himself, that writing well or ill is +almost purely a matter of talent, genius, or, let us say, instinct. +It has been truly observed that the formal study of rhetoric never has +made a single successful writer, and a great many writers have succeeded +preminently without ever having opened a rhetorical textbook. It has +not been difficult, therefore, to come to the conclusion that writing +well or ill comes by nature alone, and that all we can do is to pray for +luck,---or, at the most, to practise incessantly. Write, write, write; +and keep on writing; and destroy what you write and write again; cover +a ton of paper with ink; some day perhaps you will succeed---says the +literary adviser to the young author. And to the business man who has +letters to write and wishes to write them well, no one ever says +anything. The business man himself has begun to have a vague impression +that he would like to improve his command of language; but who is there +who even pretends to have any power to help him? There is the school +grind of "grammar and composition," and if it is kept up for enough +years, and the student happens to find any point of interest in it, some +good may result from it. That is the best that anyone has to offer. + +Some thoughtful people are convinced that writing, even business +letters, is as much a matter for professional training as music or +painting or carpentry or plumbing. That view certainly seems +reasonable. And against that is the conviction of the general public +that use of language is an art essentially different from any of the +other arts, that all people possess it more or less, and that the degree +to which they possess it depends on their general education and +environment; while the few who possess it in a preminent degree, +do so by reason of peculiar endowments and talent, not to say genius. +This latter view, too, is full of truth. We have only to reflect +a moment to see that rhetoric as it is commonly taught can by +no possibility give actual skill. Rhetoric is a system of +scientific analysis. Aristotle was a scientist, not an artist. +Analysis tears to pieces, divides into parts, and so destroys. +The practical art of writing is wholly synthesis,---building up, +putting together, creating,---and so, of course, a matter of instinct. +All the dissection, or vivisection, in the world, would never teach a +man how to bring a human being into the world, or any other living +thing; yet the untaught instinct of all animals solves the problem of +creation every minute of the world's history. In fact, it is a favorite +comparison to speak of poems, stories, and other works of literary art +as being the children of the writer's brain; as if works of literary +art came about in precisely the same simple, yet mysterious, +way that children are conceived and brought into the world. + +Yet the comparison must not be pushed too far, and we must not lose +sight of the facts in the case. You and I were not especially endowed +with literary talent. Perhaps we are business men and are glad we are +not so endowed. But we want to write and speak better than we do, +---if possible, better than those with whom we have to compete. +Now, is there not a practical way in which we can help ourselves? +There is no thought that we shall become geniuses, or anything of the +kind. For us, why should there be any difference between plumbing and +writing? If all men were born plumbers, still some would be much better +than others, and no doubt the poor ones could improve their +work in a great measure, simply by getting hints and trying. +However, we all know that the trying will not do _very_ much good +without the hints. Now, where are the master-plumber's hints--- +or rather, the master-writer's hints, for the apprentice writer? + +No doubt some half million unsuccessful authors will jump to their feet +on the instant and offer their services. But the business man is not +convinced of their ability to help him. Nor does he expect very much +real help from the hundred thousand school teachers who teach "grammar +and composition" in the schools. The fact is, the rank and file of +teachers in the common schools have learned just enough to know that +they want help themselves. Probably there is not a more eager class +in existence than they. + +The stock advice of successful authors is, Practise. But unluckily I +have practised, and it does not seem, to do any good. "I write one +hundred long letters (or rather dictate them to my stenographer) every +day," says the business man. "My newspaper reports would fill a hundred +splendid folios," says the newspaper man, "and yet---and yet---I can't +seem to hit it when I write a novel." No, practice without guidance will +not do very much, especially if we happen to be of the huge class of the +uninspired. Our lack of genius, however, does not seem to be a reason +why we should continue utterly ignorant of the art of making ourselves +felt as well as heard when we use words. Here again use of language +differs somewhat from painting or music, for unless we had some talent +there would be no reason for attempting those arts. + +Let us attack our problem from a common-sense point of view. How have +greater writers learned to write? How do plumbers learn plumbing? + +The process by which plumbers learn is simple. They watch the +master-plumber, and then try to do likewise, and they keep at this for +two or three years. At the end they are themselves master-plumbers, +or at least masters of plumbing. + +The method by which great writers, especially great writers who didn't +start with a peculiar genius, have learned to write is much the same. +Take Stevenson, for instance: he says he "played the sedulous ape." +He studied the masterpieces of literature, and tried to imitate them. +He kept at this for several years. At the end he was a master himself. +We have reason to believe that the same was true of Thackeray, of Dumas, +of Cooper, of Balzac, of Lowell. All these men owe their skill very +largely to practice in imitation of other great writers, and often of +writers not as great as they themselves. Moreover, no one will accuse +any of these writers of not being original in the highest degree. +To imitate a dozen or fifty great writers never makes imitators; the +imitator, so called, is the person who imitates one. To imitate even +two destroys all the bad effects of imitation. + +Franklin, himself a great writer, well describes the method in his +autobiography: + +How Franklin Learned to Write. + +"A question was once, somehow or other, started between Collins and me, +of the propriety of educating the female sex in learning, and their +abilities for study. He was of the opinion that it was improper, +and that they were naturally unequal to it. I took the contrary side, +perhaps a little for dispute's sake. He was naturally more eloquent, +having a ready plenty of words, and sometimes, as I thought, I was +vanquished more by his fluency than by the strength of his reasons. +As we parted without settling the point, and were not to see one another +again for some time, I sat down to put my arguments in writing, which +I copied fair and sent to him. He answered, and I replied. +Three or four letters on a side had passed, when my father happened to +find my papers and read them. Without entering into the subject in +dispute, he took occasion to talk to me about the manner of my writing; +observed that, though I had the advantage of my antagonist in correct +spelling and pointing (which I owed to the printing-house), +I fell far short in elegance of expression, in method, and in +perspicuity, of which he convinced me by several instances. +I saw the justice of his remarks, and thence grew more attentive to the +manner in writing, and determined to endeavor an improvement. + +"About this time I met with an odd volume of the _Spectator_. +It was the third. I had never before seen any of them. I bought it, +read it over and over, and was much delighted with it. I thought the +writing excellent, and wished it possible to imitate it. With this view +I took some of the papers, and making short hints of the sentiments in +each sentence, laid them by a few days, and then, without looking at the +book, tried to complete the papers again, by expressing each hinted +sentiment at length, and as fully as it had been expressed before, +in any suitable words that should come to hand. Then I compared my +_Spectator_ with the original, discovered some of my faults, and +corrected them. But I found I wanted a stock of words, or a readiness +in recollecting and using them, which I thought I should have acquired +before that time if I had gone on making verses, since the continued +search for words of the same import, but of different length to suit the +measure, or of different sound for the rhyme, would have laid me under +a constant necessity of searching for variety, and also have tended to +fix that variety in mind, and make me master of it. Therefore I took +some of the tales and turned them into verse; and, after a time, +when I had pretty well forgotten the prose, turned them back again. + +"I also sometimes jumbled my collection of hints into confusion, and +after some weeks endeavored to reduce them into the best order before +I began to form the full sentences and complete the subject. +This was to teach me method in the arrangement of the thoughts. +By comparing my work with the original, I discovered my faults and +amended them; but I sometimes had the pleasure of fancying, that, +in certain particulars of small import, I had been fortunate enough to +improve the method or the language, and this encouraged me to think that +I might possibly in time come to be a tolerable English writer; +of which I was extremely ambitious. My time for these exercises and for +reading was at night, after work, or before it began in the morning, +or on Sundays, when I contrived to be in the printing-house alone, +evading as much as I could the common attendance on public +worship which my father used to exact of me when I was under +his care, and which indeed I still continued to consider a duty, +though I could not, as it seemed to me, afford time to practise it." + + +A Practical Method. + +Aristotle's method, though perfect in theory, has failed in practice. +Franklin's method is too elementary and undeveloped to be of general +use. Taking Aristotle's method (represented by our standard textbooks +on rhetoric) as our guide, let us develop Franklin's method into a +system as varied and complete as Aristotle's. We shall then have a +method at the same time practical and scholarly. + +We have studied the art of writing words correctly (spelling) and +writing sentences correctly (grammar).* Now we wish to learn to write +sentences, paragraphs, and entire compositions _effectively_. + + *See the earlier volumes in this series. + +First, we must form the habit of observing the meanings and values of +words, the structure of sentences, of paragraphs, and of entire +compositions as we read standard literature---just as we have been +trying to form the habit of observing the spelling of words, +and the logical relationships of words in sentences. In order that we +may know what to look for in our observation we must analyse a _little,_ +but we will not imagine that we shall learn to do a thing by endless +talk about doing it. + +Second, we will practise in the imitation of selections from master +writers, in every case fixing our attention on the rhetorical element +each particular writer best illustrates. This imitation will be +continued until we have mastered the subject toward which we are +especially directing our attention, and all the subjects which go to the +making of an accomplished writer. + +Third, we will finally make independent compositions for ourselves with +a view to studying and expressing the stock of ideas which we have to +express. This will involve a study of the people on whom we wish to +impress our ideas, and require that we constantly test the results of +our work to see what the actual effect on the mind of our audience is. + +Let us now begin our work. + + +CHAPTER I. + +DICTION. + +"Diction" is derived from the Latin _dictio,_ a word, and in rhetoric +it denotes choice of words. In the study of grammar we have learned +that all words have logical relationships in sentences, and in some +cases certain forms to agree with particular relationships. We have +also taken note of "idioms," in which words are used with peculiar values. + +On the subject of Idiom Arlo Bates in his book "On Writing English" has +some very forcible remarks. Says he, "An idiom is the personal---if the +word may be allowed---the personal idiosyncrasy of a language. +It is a method of speech wherein the genius of the race making the +language shows itself as differing from that of all other peoples. +What style is to the man, that is idiom to the race. It is the +crystalization in verbal forms of peculiarities of race temperament--- +perhaps even of race eccentricities . . . . . English which is not +idiomatic becomes at once formal and lifeless, as if the tongue were +already dead and its remains embalmed in those honorable sepulchres, the +philological dictionaries. On the other hand, English which goes too +far, and fails of a delicate distinction between what is really and +essentially idiomatic and what is colloquial, becomes at once vulgar and +utterly wanting in that subtle quality of dignity for which there is no +better term than _distinction_."* + + *As examples of idioms Mr. Bates gives the following: A ten-foot +(instead of ten-feet) pole; the use of the "flat adverb" +or adjective form in such expressions as "speak loud." "walk fast," +"the sun shines hot," "drink deep;" and the use of prepositions +adverbially at the end of a sentence, as in "Where are you +going to?" "The subject which I spoke to you about," etc. + +We therefore see that idiom is not only a thing to justify, +but something to strive for with all our might. The use of it gives +character to our selection of words, and better than anything else +illustrates what we should be looking for in forming our habit of +observing the meanings and uses of words as we read. + +Another thing we ought to note in our study of words is the _suggestion_ +which many words carry with them in addition to their obvious meaning. +For instance, consider what a world of ideas the mere name of Lincoln +or Washington or Franklin or Napoleon or Christ calls up. On their face +they are but names of men, or possibly sometimes of places; but we +cannot utter the name of Lincoln without thinking of the whole terrible +struggle of our Civil War; the name of Washington, without thinking of +nobility, patriotism, and self-sacrifice in a pure and great man; +Napoleon, without thinking of ambition and blood; of Christ, without +lifting our eyes to the sky in an attitude of worship and thanksgiving +to God. So common words carry with them a world of suggested thought. +The word _drunk_ calls up a picture horrid and disgusting; _violet_ +suggests blueness, sweetness, and innocence; _oak_ suggests sturdy +courage and strength; _love_ suggests all that is dear in the histories +of our own lives. Just what will be suggested depends largely on the +person who hears the word, and in thinking of suggestion we must reflect +also on the minds of the persons to whom we speak. + +The best practical exercise for the enlargement of one's vocabulary is +translating, or writing verses. Franklin commends verse-writing, but +it is hardly mechanical enough to be of value in all cases. At the same +time, many people are not in a position to translate from a foreign +language; and even if they were, the danger of acquiring foreign idioms +and strange uses of words is so great as to offset the positive gain. +But we can easily exercise ourselves in translating one kind of English +into another, as poetry into prose, or an antique style into modern. +To do this the constant use of the English dictionary will be necessary, +and incidentally we shall learn a great deal about words. + +As an example of this method of study, we subjoin a series of notes on +the passage quoted from Franklin in the last chapter. In our study we +constantly ask ourselves, "Does this use of the word sound perfectly +natural?" At every point we appeal to our _instinct,_ and in time come +to trust it to a very great extent. We even train it. To train our +instinct for words is the first great object of our study. + + +Notes on Franklin. +(See "How Franklin Learned to Write" in preceding chapter.) + +1. "The female sex" includes animals as well as human beings, +and in modern times we say simply "women," though when Franklin wrote +"the female sex" was considered an elegant phrase. + +2. Note that "their" refers to the collective noun "sex." + +3. If we confine the possessive case to persons we would not say +"for dispute's sake," and indeed "for the sake of dispute" +is just as good, if not better, in other respects. + +4. "Ready plenty" is antique usage for "ready abundance." +Which is the stronger? + +5. "Reasons" in the phrase "strength of his reasons" is a simple and +forcible substitute for "arguments." + +6. "Copied fair" shows an idiomatic use of an adjective form which +perhaps can be justified, but the combination has given way in these +days to "made a fair copy of." + +7. Observe that Franklin uses "pointing" for _punctuation,_ +and "printing-house" for _printing-office_. + +8. The old idiom "endeavor at improvement" has been changed to +_endeavor to improve,_ or _endeavor to make improvement_. + +9. Note how the use of the word _sentiment_ has changed. +We would be more likely to say _ideas_ in a connection like this. + +10. For "laid them by," say _laid them away_. + +11. For "laid me under . . . . . . necessity" we might say +_compelled me,_ or _made it necessary that I should_. + +12. "Amended" is not so common now as _corrected_. + +13. For "evading" (attendance at public worship) we should now say +_avoiding_. We "evade" more subtle things than attendance at church. + +There are many other slight differences in the use of words which the +student will observe. It would be an excellent exercise to write out, +not only this passage, but a number of others from the Autobiography, +in the most perfect of simple modern English. + +We may also take a modern writer like Kipling and translate his style +into simple, yet attractive and good prose; and the same process may be +applied to any of the selections in this book, simply trying to find +equivalent and if possible equally good words to express the same ideas, +or slight variations of the same ideas. Robinson Crusoe, Bacon's +Essays, and Pilgrim's Progress are excellent books to translate into +modern prose. The chief thing is to do the work slowly and thoughtfully. + + +CHAPTER II. + +FIGURES OF SPEECH. + +It is not an easy thing to pass from the logical precision of grammar +to the vague suggestiveness of words that call up whole troops of ideas +not contained in the simple idea for which a word stands. +Specific idioms are themselves at variance with grammar and logic, +and the grammarians are forever fighting them; but when we go into the +vague realm of poetic style, the logical mind is lost at once. +And yet it is more important to use words pregnant with meaning than to +be strictly grammatical. We must reduce grammar to an instinct that +will guard us against being contradictory or crude in our construction +of sentences, and then we shall make that instinct harmonize with all +the other instincts which a successful writer must have. When grammar +is treated (as we have tried to treat it) as "logical instinct," +then there can be no conflict with other instincts. + +The suggestiveness of words finds its specific embodiment in the so +called "figures of speech." We must examine them a little, +because when we come to such an expression as "The kettle boils" after +a few lessons in tracing logical connections, we are likely to say +without hesitation that we have found an error, an absurdity. +On its face it is an absurdity to say "The kettle boils" when we mean +"The water in the kettle boils." But reflection will show us that we +have merely condensed our words a little. Many idioms are curious +condensations, and many figures of speech may be explained as natural +and easy condensations. We have already seen such a condensation in +"more complete" for "more nearly complete." + +The following definitions and illustrations are for reference. +We do not need to know the names of any of these figures in order to use +them, and it is altogether probable that learning to name and analyse +them will to some extent make us too self-conscious to use them at all. +At the same time, they will help us to explain things that otherwise +might puzzle us in our study. + +1. Simile. The simplest figure of speech is the _simile_. +It is nothing more or less than a direct comparison by the use of such +words as _like_ and _as_. + +_Examples:_ Unstable as water, thou shalt not excel. How often would I +have gathered my children together, as a hen doth gather her broodunder +her wings! The Kingdom of God is like a grain of mustard seed, +is like leaven hidden in three measures of meal. Their lives glide on +like rivers that water the woodland. Mercy droppeth as the gentle rain +from heaven upon the place beneath. + +2. Metaphor. A _metaphor_ is an implied or assumed comparison. +The words _like_ and _as_ are no longer used, but the construction of the +sentence is such that the comparison is taken for granted and the thing +to which comparison is made is treated as if it were the thing itself. + +_Examples_: The valiant taste of death but once. Stop my house's ears. +His strong mind reeled under the blow. The compressed passions of a +century exploded in the French Revolution. It was written at a white +heat. He can scarcely keep the wolf from the door. Strike while the +iron is hot. Murray's eloquence never blazed into sudden flashes, +but its clear, placid, and mellow splendor was never overclouded. + +The metaphor is the commonest figure of speech. Our language is a sort +of burying-ground of faded metaphors. Look up in the dictionary the +etymology of such words as _obvious, ruminating, insuperable, dainty, +ponder,_ etc., and you will see that they got their present meanings +through metaphors which have now so faded that we no longer recognize them. + +Sometimes we get into trouble by introducing two comparisons in the same +sentence or paragraph, one of which contradicts the other. +Thus should we say "Pilot us through the wilderness of life" we +would introduce two figures of speech, that of a ship being +piloted and that of a caravan in a wilderness being guided, +which would contradict each other. This is called a "mixed metaphor." + +3. Allusion. Sometimes a metaphor consists in a reference or allusion +to a well known passage in literature or a fact of history. +_Examples_: Daily, with souls that cringe and plot, we Sinais climb and +know it not. (Reference to Moses on Mt. Sinai). He received the lion's +share of the profits. (Reference to the fable of the lion's share). +Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed by a kiss. (Reference to the +betrayal of Christ by Judas). + +4. Personification. Sometimes the metaphor consists in speaking of +inanimate things or animals as if they were human. This is called the +figure of _personification_. It raises the lower to the dignity of the +higher, and so gives it more importance. + +_Examples_: Earth felt the wound. Next Anger rushed, his eyes on fire. +The moping Owl doth to the Moon complain. True Hope is swift and flies +with swallow's wings. Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, as to be +hated needs but to be seen. Speckled Vanity will sicken soon and die. + +(Note in the next to the last example that the purely impersonal is +raised, not to human level, but to that of the brute creation. +Still the figure is called personification). + +5. Apostrophe. When inanimate things, or the absent, whether +living or dead, are addressed as if they were living and +present, we have a figure of speech called _apostrophe_. +This figure of speech gives animation to the style. _Examples_: +O Rome, Rome, thou hast been a tender nurse to me. Blow, +winds, and crack your cheeks. Take her, O Bridegroom, old and gray! + +6. Antithesis. The preceding figures have been based on likeness. +_Antithesis_ is a figure of speech in which opposites are contrasted, +or one thing is set against another. Contrast is almost as powerful as +comparison in making our ideas clear and vivid. + +_Examples_: (Macaulay, more than any other writer, habitually uses +antitheses). Saul, seeking his father's asses, found himself turned +into a king. Fit the same intellect to a man and it is a bowstring; +to a woman and it is a harp-string. I thought that this man had been a +lord among wits, but I find that he is only a wit among lords. +Better to reign in hell than to serve in heaven. For fools rush in +where angels fear to tread. + +7. Metonymy. Besides the figures of likeness and unlikeness, +there are others of quite a different kind. _Metonymy_ consists in the +substitution for the thing itself of something closely associated with +it, as the sign or symbol for the thing symbolized, the cause for the +effect, the instrument for the user of it, the container for the thing +contained, the material for the thing made of it, etc. + +_Examples_: He is a slave to the _cup_. Strike for your _altars_ and +your _fires_. The _kettle boils,_ He rose and addressed the _chair_. +The _palace_ should not scorn the _cottage_. The watched _pot_ never +boils. The red _coats_ turned and fled. _Iron_ bailed and _lead_ +rained upon the enemy. The _pen_ is mightier than the _sword_. + +8. Synecdoche. There is a special kind of metonymy which is given the +dignity of a separate name. It is the substitution of the part for the +whole or the whole for the part. The value of it consists in putting +forward the thing best known, the thing that will appeal most powerfully +to the thought and feeling. + +_Examples_: Come and trip it as you go, on the light fantastic _toe_. +American commerce is carried in British _bottoms_. He bought a hundred +_head_ of cattle. It is a village of five hundred _chimneys_. +He cried, "A sail, a sail!" The busy _fingers_ toll on. + +Exercise. + +Indicate the figure of speech used in each of the following sentences: + +1. Come, seeling Night, scarf up the tender eye of pitiful Day. + +2. The coat does not make the man. + +3. From two hundred observatories in Europe and America, +the glorious artillery of science nightly assaults the skies. + +4. The lamp is burning. + +5. Blow, blow, thou winter wind, thou art not so unkind as man's +ingratitude. + +6. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff. + +7. Laughter and tears are meant to turn the wheels of the machinery of +sensibility; one is wind power, the other water power. + +8. When you are an anvil, hold you still; when you are a hammer, +strike your fill. + +9. Save the ermine from pollution. + +10. There is a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood, +leads on to fortune; omitted, all the voyage of their lives is bound in +shallows and in miseries. + +Turn each of the above sentences into plain language. Key: (the +numbers in parantheses indicate the figure of speech in the sentences as +numbered above). 1. (4); 2. (7); 3. (2); 4. (7); 5. (5); 6. (1); +7. (2 and 6); 8. (2 and 6); 9. (7); 10. (2). + + +CHAPTER III. + +STYLE. + +There have been many definitions of style; but the disputes of the +rhetoricians do not concern us. _Style,_ as the word is commonly +understood, is the choice and arrangement of words in sentences and of +sentences in paragraphs as that arrangement is effective in expressing +our meaning and convincing our readers or hearers. A _good style_ is +one that is effective, and a _bad style_ is one which fails of doing +what the writer wishes to do. There are as many ways of expressing +ideas as there are ways of combining words (that is, an infinite number), +and as many styles as there are writers. None of us wishes precisely to +get the style of any one else; but we want to form a good one of our own. + +We will briefly note the elements mentioned by those who analyse style, +and then pass on to concrete examples. + +Arrangement of words in a sentence. The first requirement is that the +arrangement of words should be logical, that is grammatical. +The rhetorical requirements are that--- + +1. One sentence, with one principal subject and one principal +predicate, should try to express one thought and no more. +If we try to mix two thoughts in the same sentence, we shall come to +grief. Likewise, we shall fail if we attempt to mix two subjects in the +same paragraph or composition. + +2. The words in the sentence should be arranged that those which are +emphatic will come in the emphatic places. The beginning and the end +of a sentence are emphatic positions, the place before any mark of +punctuation is usually emphatic, and any word not in its usual place +with relation to the word it modifies grammatically is especially +emphatic. We must learn the emphatic positions by experience, +and then our instinct will guide us. The whole subject is one of the +relative values of words. + +3. The words in a sentence should follow each other in such a simple, +logical order that one leads on to another, and the whole meaning flows +like a stream of water. The reader should never be compelled to stop +and look back to see how the various ideas "hang together." This is the +rhetorical side of the logical relationship which grammar requires. +Not only must grammatical rules be obeyed, but logical instinct must be +satisfied with the linking of idea to idea to make a complete thought. +And the same law holds good in linking sentences into paragraphs and +paragraphs into whole compositions. + +These three requirements have been named Unity, Mass, and Coherence. + +The variations in sentences due to emphasis have given rise to a rhetorical +division of sentences into two classes, called loose and periodic. + +A loose sentence is one in which words follow each other in their +natural order, the modifiers of the verb of course following the verb. +Often many of these modifiers are not strictly necessary to complete the +sense and a period may be inserted at some point before the close of the +sentence without destroying its grammatical completeness. +The addition of phrases and clauses not strictly required constitutes +_looseness_ of sentence structure. + +A periodic sentence is one which is not grammatically or logically +complete till the end. If the sentence is somewhat long, +the mind is held in suspense until the last word is uttered. + +_Example_. The following is a loose sentence: "I stood on the bridge +at midnight, as the clocks were striking the hour." The same sentence +becomes periodic by transposition of the less important predicate +modifiers, thus---"At midnight, as the clocks were striking the hour, +I stood on the bridge." + +It will be observed that the periodic form is adapted to oratory and +similar forms of eloquent writing in which the mind of the reader or hearer +is keyed up to a high pitch of expectancy; while the loose sentence is the +one common in all simple narrative and unexcited statement. + +Qualities of Style. Writers on rhetoric note three essential qualities +of style, namely _clearness, force,_ and _elegance_. + +Clearness of style is the direct result of clearness and simplicity of +thought. Unless we have mastered our thought in every particular before +trying to express it, confusion is inevitable. At the same time, +if we have mastered our thought perfectly, and yet express it in +language not understood by the persons to whom and for whom we write or +speak, our style will not be clear to them, and we shall have failed in +conveying our thoughts as much as if we had never mastered them. + +Force is required to produce an effect on the mind of the hearer. +He must not only understand what we say, but have some emotion in regard +to it; else he will have forgotten our words before we have fairly +uttered them. Force is the appeal which words make to the feeling, +as clearness is the appeal they make to the understanding. + +Elegance is required only in writing which purports to be good +literature. It is useful but not required in business letters, or in +newspaper writing; but it is absolutely essential to higher literary +art. It is the appeal which the words chosen and the arrangement +selected make to our sense of beauty. That which is not beautiful has +no right to be called "literature," and a style which does not possess +the subtle elements of beauty is not a strictly "literary" style. + +Most of us by persistent effort can conquer the subject of clearness. +Even the humblest person should not open his mouth or take up his pen +voluntarily unless he can express himself clearly; and if he has any +thought to express that is worth expressing, and wants to express it, +he will sooner or later find a satisfactory way of expressing it. + +The thing that most of us wish to find out is, how to write with force. +Force is attained in various ways, summarized as follows: + +1. By using words which are in themselves expressive. + +2. By placing those words in emphatic positions in the sentence. + +3. By varying the length and form of successive sentences so that the +reader or hearer shall never be wearied by monotony. + +4. By figures of speech, or constant comparison and illustration, +and making words suggest ten times as much as they say. + +5. By keeping persistently at one idea, though from every possible +point of view and without repetition of any kind, till that idea has +sunk into the mind of the hearer and has been fully comprehended. + +Force is destroyed by the---Vice of repetition with slight change or +addition; Vice of monotony in the words, sentences or paragraphs; +Vice of over-literalness and exactness; Vice of trying to emphasize more +than one thing at a time; Vice of using many words with little meaning; +or words barren of suggestiveness and destitute of figures of speech; +and its opposite, the Vice of overloading the style with so many figures +of speech and so much suggestion and variety as to disgust or confuse. +These vices have been named tautology, dryness, and "fine writing." +Without doubt the simplest narration is the hardest kind of composition +to write, chiefly because we do not realize how hard it is. The first +necessity for a student is to realize the enormous requirements for a +perfect mastery of style. The difficulties will not appear to the one +who tries original composition by way of practice, since there is no way +of "checking up" his work. He may (or may not) be aware that what he +is doing does not produce the effect that the writing of a master +produces; but if he does realize it, he will certainly fail to discover +wherein his own weakness consists. + +The only effective way of making the discovery is that described by +Franklin, and there is no masterpiece of literature better to practise +upon than Ruskin's "The King of the Golden River." Unlike much +beautiful and powerful writing, it is so simple that a child can +understand it. Complete comprehension of the meaning is absolutely +necessary before any skill in expressing that meaning can be looked for, +and an attempt to imitate that which is not perfectly clear will not +give skill. And with this simplicity there is consummate art. Ruskin +uses nearly all the devices described in the preceding pages. Let us +look at some of these in the first three paragraphs of Ruskin's story: + +In a secluded and mountainous part of Styria, there was, in old time, +a valley of most surprising and luxuriant fertility. It was surrounded +on all sides by steep and rocky mountains rising into peaks which were +always covered with snow and from which a number of torrents descended +in constant cataracts. One of these fell westward, over the face of a +crag so high that, when the sun had set to everything else, and all +below was darkness, his beams still shone full upon this waterfall, +so that it looked like a shower of gold. It was, therefore, called by +the people of the neighborhood the Golden River{.} It was strange that +none of these streams fell into the valley itself. They all descended +on the other side of the mountains, and wound through broad plains and +by populous cities. But the clouds were drawn so constantly to the +snowy hills, and rested so softly in the circular hollow, that, in time +of drought and heat, when all the country round was burnt up, +there was still rain in the little valley; and its crops were so heavy, +and its hay so high, and its apples so red, and its grapes so blue, +and its wine so rich, and its honey so sweet, that it was a marvel to +every one who beheld it, and was commonly called the Treasure Valley. + +The whole of this little valley belonged to three brothers, called +Schwartz, Hans, and Gluck. Schwartz and Hans, the two elder brothers, +were very ugly men, with overwhelming eyebrows and small, dull eyes, +which were always half shut, so that you couldn't see into them, and +always fancied they saw very far into _you_. They lived by farming the +Treasure Valley, and very good farmers they were. They killed +everything that did not pay for its eating. They shot the blackbirds, +because they pecked the fruit; and killed the hedge-hogs, lest they +should suck the cows; they poisoned the crickets for eating the crumbs +in the kitchen; and smothered the cicadas, which used to sing all summer +in the lime-trees. They worked their servants without any wages, till +they could not work any more, and then quarrelled with them and turned +them out of doors without paying them. It would have been very odd, +if, with such a farm, and such a system of farming, they hadn't got very +rich; and very rich they did get. + +They generally contrived to keep their corn by them till it was very +dear, and then sell it for twice its value; they had heaps of gold lying +about on their floors, yet it was never known that they had given so +much as a penny or a crust in charity; they never went to mass; grumbled +perpetually at paying tithes; and were, in a word, of so cruel and +grinding a temper, as to receive from all those with whom they had any +dealings, the nickname of the "Black Brothers." + +The youngest brother, Gluck, was as completely opposed, in both +appearance and character, to his seniors as could possibly be imagined +or desired. He was not above twelve years old, fair, blue-eyed, +and kind in temper to every living thing. He did not, of course, +agree particularly well with his brothers, or rather they did not agree +with him. He was usually appointed to the honorable office of turnspit, +when there was anything to roast, which was not often; for, to do the +brothers justice, they were hardly less sparing upon themselves than +upon other people. At other times he used to clean the shoes, +the floors, and sometimes the plates, occasionally getting what was left +on them, by way of encouragement, and a wholesome quantity of dry blows, +by way of education. + +The author starts out with a periodic sentence, beginning with a +predicate modifier and placing the subject last. This serves to fix our +attention from the first. The arrangement also throws the emphasis on +"surprising and luxuriant fertility." The last word is the essential one +in conveying the meaning, though a modifier of the simple subject noun +"valley." The next sentence is a loose one. After catching the +attention of the reader, we must not burden his mind too much till he +gets interested. We must move along naturally and easily, and this +Ruskin does. The third sentence is periodic again. We are now awake +and able to bear transposition for the sake of emphasis. Ruskin first +emphasizes "so high," the adjective being placed after its noun, and +then leads the way to the chief emphasis, which comes on the word +"gold," the last in the sentence. There is also an antithesis between +the darkness below and the light on the peak which is bright enough to +turn the water into gold. This also helps to emphasize "gold." We have +now had three long sentences and the fourth sentence, which concludes +this portion of the subject, is a short one. "Golden River" is +emphasized by being thrown quite to the end, a little out of +its natural order, which would have been immediately after the verb. +The emphasis on "gold" in the preceding sentence prepared the way for +the emphasis on "Golden River;" and by looking back we see how every +word has been easily, gracefully leading up to this conclusion. + +Ordinarily this would be the end of a paragraph. We may call the first +four sentences a "sub-paragraph." The capital letters in "Golden River" +mark the division to the eye, and the emphasis marks the division to the +mind. We do not begin with a new paragraph, simply because the subject +that follows is more closely connected with the first four sentences +than with the paragraph which follows. + +Beginning with "It was strange that none of these streams" etc., +we have two rather short, simple, loose sentences, which introduce us +in a most natural manner to the subject to be presented, and prepare the +way for a very long, somewhat complicated sentence, full of antitheses, +ending with the emphatic words "Treasure Valley." These two words are +to this part of the paragraph what the words "Golden River" +were to the first part; and besides, we see before us the simple, +beautiful picture of the Golden River above the Treasure Valley, +presented in words whose power and grace we cannot fail to appreciate. + +The second paragraph goes forward in the most matter-of-course and easy +way. The first sentence is short, but the second is longer, with a +pleasing variation of long and short phrases, and it ends with a +contrast marked to the eye by the italic words "them" and "you." +The next two sentences are quite short, and variety is given by the +simple transposition in "and very good farmers they were." +This is no more than a graceful little twirl to relieve any possible +monotony. The fourth sentence in the paragraph is also very short, +purposely made so for emphasis. It gives in a word what the following +long sentence presents in detail. And observe the constant variation +in the form of this long sentence: in the first clause we have +"They shot . . . . because," in the second, "and killed . . . . lest" +(the subject of killed being implied, but its place supplied by and), +while in the third, the subject of the verb is again expressed, +and then we have the prepositional form "for eating" instead of the +conjunction and verb in a subordinate sentence. Moreover we have three +different verbs meaning the same thing---shot, killed, poisoned. +By the variation Ruskin avoids monotony; yet by the similarity he gains +emphasis. The likeness of the successive clauses is as important as +their difference. There is also in each an implied contrast, +between the severe penalty and the slight offense. By implication each +word gives an added touch to the picture of hardness and cruelty of the +two brothers. Ruskin finds a dozen different ways of illustrating the +important statement he made in the second sentence (the first sentence +being merely introductory). And at the end of the paragraph we have the +whole summed up in a long sentence full of deliberate rather than +implied contrasts, which culminate in the two words "Black Brothers." + +It is easy to see that much of the strength of these two paragraphs lies +in the continued and repeated use of contrast. The first paragraph, +with its beautiful description of the "Golden River" and the +"Treasure Valley," is itself a perfect contrast to the second, +with its "Black Brothers" and all their meanness; and we have already +seen that the second paragraph itself is filled with antitheses. + +In these two paragraphs we have but two simple ideas, that of the place +with all its beauty, and that of the brothers with all their ugliness. +Ruskin might have spoken of them in two sentences, or even in one; but +as a matter of fact, in order to make us think long enough about these +two things, he takes them one at a time and gives us glints, like the +reflections from the different facets of a diamond slowly turned about +in the light. Each is almost like the preceding, yet a little +different; and when we have seen all in succession, we understand each +better, and the whole subject is vividly impressed on our minds. + +In the third paragraph we have still another contrast in the description +of little Gluck. This paragraph is shorter, but the same devices are +used that we found in the preceding. + +In these three paragraphs the following points are well illustrated: + +1. Each paragraph develops one subject, which has a natural relation to +what precedes and what follows; + +2. Each idea is presented in a succession of small details which follow +in easy, logical order one after the other; + +3. There is constant variety and contrast, difference with likeness and +likeness with difference. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +HUMOR: + +Addison, Stevenson, Lamb. + +Mere correctness in sentence structure (grammar) may be purely +scientific; but the art of rhetoric is so wrapped up with human emotion +that the study of human nature counts for infinitely more than the +theory of arrangement, figures of speech, etc., Unless the student has +some idea how the human mind works (his own mind and the minds of his +readers), he will make little or no progress in his study of this +subject. Professional teachers ignore this almost completely, and that +is one reason why they so often fail; and it is also a reason why persons +who do not go to them for training so often succeed: the latter class +finds that knowledge of the human heart makes up for many deficiencies. + +The first important consideration is _good nature_. It is not often +that we can use words to compel; we must win; and it is an old proverb +that "more flies are caught with molasses than with vinegar." The novice +in writing is always too serious, even to morbidness, too "fierce," too +arrogant and domineering in his whole thought and feeling. Sometimes +such a person compels attention, but not often. The universal way Is +to attract, win over, please. Most of the arts of formal rhetoric are +arts of making language pleasing; but what is the value of knowing the +theory in regard to these devices when the spirit of pleasing is absent? + +We must go at our work gently and good-naturedly, and then there will +be no straining or morbidness or repulsiveness of manner. +But all this finds its consummation in what is called _humor_. + +Humor is a thing that can be cultivated, even learned; and it is one of +the most important things in the whole art of writing. + +We will not attempt to say just what humor is. The effort could bring +no results of value. Suffice it to say that there is implanted in most +of us a sense of the ridiculous---of the incongruous. If a thing is a +little too big or a little too small for the place it is intended to +fill, for some occult reason we regard it as funny. The difference of +a hair seems to tickle us, whereas a great difference does not produce +that kind of effect at all. + +We may secure humor by introducing into our writing the slightest +possible exaggeration which will result in the slightest possible +incongruity. Of course this presupposes that we understand the facts +in a most thorough and delicate way. Our language is not precisely +representative of things as they are, but it proves better than any +other language that we know just what the truth is. + +Humor is the touchstone by which we ought to try ourselves and our work. + +It will prevent our getting very far away from what is normal and natural. + +So much for its effect on ourselves. To our readers it proves +that we are good-natured, honest, and determined to be agreeable. +Besides, it makes an appeal to them on their weakest side. +Few people can resist a joke. There is never any occasion for them +to cultivate resistance. So there is no more certain way by which we +can get quickly and inevitably into their confidence and fellowship. +When once we are on good terms with them they will listen to us while +we say anything we may have to say. Of course we shall often have many +serious things to say; but humor will open the way for us to say them +better than any other agency. + +It is to be noted that humor is slighter and more delicate than any +other form of wit, and that it is used by serious and accomplished +writers. It is the element of success in nearly all essay-writing, +especially in letters; and the business man will find it his most powerful +weapon in advertising. Its value is to be seen by uses so various. + +The student is invited to study three examples of humor. The first is +Addison's "Advice in Love." It is obvious that this subject could not +very well be treated in any other way. It is too delicate for anything +but delicate humor, for humor can handle subjects which would be +impossible for any other kind of language. Besides, the sentiment would +be likely to nauseate us by its excess or its morbidity, except for the +healthy salt of humor. Humor makes this essay instructive and interesting. + +Next we present two letters from Stevenson. +Here we see that humor makes commonplace things interesting. +How deadly dull would be the details Stevenson gives in these letters +but for the enlivenment of humor! By what other method could anything +worth reading have been gotten out of the facts? + +The selection from Charles Lamb is an illustration of how humor may save +the utterly absurd from being unreadable. Lamb had absolutely nothing +to say when he sat down to write this letter; and yet he contrived to be +amusing, if not actually interesting. + +The master of humor can draw upon the riches of his own mind, and +thereby embellish and enliven any subject he may desire to write upon. + +Of these three selections, the easiest to imitate is Addison. +First, we should note the old-fashioned phrasing and choice of words, +and perhaps translate Addison into simple, idiomatic, modern English, +altering as little as possible. We note that the letter offered by +Addison is purposely filled with all the faults of rhetoric which we +never find in his own writing. Addison's humorous imitation of these +faults gives us twice as good a lesson as any possible example of real +faults made by some writer unconsciously. + +In Stevenson's letters we see the value of what has been called +"the magic word." Nearly the whole of his humor consists in selecting +a word which suggests ten times as much as it expresses on its face. +There is a whole world of fun in this suggestion. Sometimes it is +merely commonplace punning, as when he speaks of the "menial" of +"high Dutch extraction" as yet "only partially extracted;" and again it +is the delicate insinuation contained in spelling "Parc" with a _c,_ +for that one letter gives us an entire foreign atmosphere, and the +disproportion between the smallness of the letter and the extent of the +suggestiveness touches our sense of the ridiculous. + +The form of study of these passages may be slightly altered. +Instead of making notes and rewriting exactly as the original authors +wrote, we should keep the original open before us and try +to produce something slightly different in the same vein. +We may suppose the letter on love written by a man instead of +by a woman. Of course its character will be quite different, +though exactly the same characteristics will be illustrated. +This change will require an alteration in almost every sentence of the +essay. Our effort should be to see how little change in the wording +will be required by this one change in subject; though of course we +should always modernize the phrasing. In the case of Stevenson, +we may suppose that we are writing a similar letter to friends, but from +some other city than San Francisco. We may imitate Lamb by describing +our feelings when afflicted by some other ailment than a cold. + + +ADVICE IN LOVE. + +By Joseph Addison. + +It is an old observation, which has been made of politicians who would +rather ingratiate, themselves with their sovereign, than promote his +real service, that they accommodate their counsels to his inclinations, +and advise him to such actions only as his heart is naturally set upon. +The privy-counsellor of one in love must observe the same conduct, +unless he would forfeit the friendship of the person who desires his +advice. I have known several odd cases of this nature. Hipparchus was +going to marry a common woman, but being resolved to do nothing without +the advice of his friend Philander, he consulted him upon the occasion. +Philander told him his mind freely, and represented his mistress to him +in such strong colors, that the next morning he received a challenge for +his pains, and before twelve o'clock was run through the body by the man +who had asked his advice. Celia was more prudent on the like occasion; +she desired Leonilla to give her opinion freely upon a young fellow who +made his addresses to her. Leonilla, to oblige her, told her with great +frankness, that she looked upon him as one of the most worthless--- +Celia, foreseeing what a character she was to expect, begged her not to +go on, for that she had been privately married to him above a fortnight. + +The truth of it is a woman seldom asks advice before she has +bought her wedding clothes. When she has made her own choice, +for form's sake she sends a _cong d'lire_ to her friends. + +If we look into the secret springs and motives that set people at work +on these occasions, and put them upon asking advice, which they never +intend to take; I look upon it to be none of the least, that they are +incapable of keeping a secret which is so very pleasing to them. +A girl longs to tell her confidant that she hopes to be married in a +little time, and, in order to talk of the pretty fellow that dwells so +much in her thoughts, asks her gravely, what she would advise her to in +a case of so much difficulty. Why else should Melissa, who had not a +thousand pounds in the world, go into every quarter of the town to ask +her acquaintance whether they would advise her to take Tom Townly, +that made his addresses to her with an estate of five thousand a year? +'Tis very pleasant on this occasion to hear the lady propose her doubts, +and to see the pains she is at to get over them. + +I must not here omit a practice that is in use among the vainer part of +our own sex, who will often ask a friend's advice, in relation to a +fortune whom they are never likely to come at. Will Honeycomb, who is +now on the verge of threescore, took me aside not long since, and ask +me in his most serious look, whether I would advise him to marry my Lady +Betty Single, who, by the way, is one of the greatest fortunes about +town. I stared him full in the face upon so strange a question; +upon which he immediately gave me an inventory of her jewels and estate, +adding, that he was resolved to do nothing in a matter of such +consequence without my approbation. Finding he would have an answer, +I told him, if he could get the lady's consent, he had mine. +This is about the tenth match which, to my knowledge, Will has consulted +his friends upon, without ever opening his mind to the party herself. + +I have been engaged in this subject by the following letter, which comes +to me from some notable young female scribe, who, by the contents of it, +seems to have carried matters so far that she is ripe for asking advice; +but as I would not lose her good-will, nor forfeit the reputation which +I have with her for wisdom, I shall only communicate the letter to the +public, without returning any answer to it. + + "Mr. Spectator, + Now, sir, the thing is this: Mr. Shapely is the prettiest gentleman +about town. He is very tall, but not too tall neither. He dances like +an angel. His mouth is made I do not know how, but it is the prettiest +that I ever saw in my life. He is always laughing, for he has an +infinite deal of wit. If you did but see how he rolls his stockings! +He has a thousand pretty fancies, and I am sure, if you saw him, you +would like him, he is a very good scholar, and can talk Latin as fast +as English. I wish you could but see him dance. Now you must +understand poor Mr. Shapely has no estate; but how can he help that, +you know? And yet my friends are so unreasonable as to be always +teasing me about him, because he has no estate: but I am sure he has +that that is better than an estate; for he is a good-natured, ingenious, +modest, civil, tall, well-bred, handsome man, and I am obliged to him +for his civilities ever since I saw him. I forgot to tell you that he +has black eyes, and looks upon me now and then as if he had tears in +them. And yet my friends are so unreasonable, that they would have me +be uncivil to him. I have a good portion which they cannot hinder me +of, and I shall be fourteen on the 29th day of August next, and am +therefore willing to settle in the world as soon as I can, and so is +Mr. Shapely. But everybody I advise with here is poor Mr. Shapely's enemy. +I desire, therefore, you will give me your advice, for I know you are a +wise man: and if you advise me well, I am resolved to follow it. +I heartily wish you could see him dance, and am, + "Sir, your most humble servant. + B. D." +"He loves your Spectator mightily." + +Notes. + +Addison's object in writing this paper is largely serious: +he wishes to criticise and correct manners and morals. He is satirical, +but so good-humored in his satire that no one could be offended. +He also contrives to give the impression that he refers to "the other +fellow," not to you. This delicacy and tact are as important +in the writer as in the diplomat, for the writer quite as much as the +diplomat lives by favor. + +Addison is not a very strict writer, and his works have given examples +for the critics by the score. One of these is seen in "begged her not +to go on, _for-that_ she had been privately married:" "begged" and "for +that" do not go well together. To a modern reader such a phrasing as +"If we look into . . . . . . I look upon it to be" etc., seems a +little awkward, if not crude; but we may excuse these seeming +discrepancies as "antique usage," along with such phrases as "advise her +to in a case of such difficulty" and "to hear the lady _propose_ her +doubts, and to see the pains she is _at_ to get over them." + +"Fortune whom" is evidently a personification. The use of _party_ in +"to the party herself" is now reckoned an Americanism (!) +"Engaged _in_ this subject" is evidently antiquated. + +We miss in Addison the variety which we found in Ruskin. +He does not seem to understand the art of alternating long and short +sentences, and following one sentence form by another in quick +succession. The fact is, English prose style has made enormous advances +since the time of Addison, and we learn more by comparing him +with a writer like Ruskin than by deliberately imitating him. +At the same time his method is simpler, and since it is so we may find +him a good writer to begin our study with. In spite of any little +faults we may find with him, he was and is a great writer, and we should +be sure we can write as _well_ as he before we reject him. + +LETTERS. + +By Robert Louis Stevenson. + + I. + +My Dear Mother,---I am here at last, sitting in my room, without coat +or waistcoat, and with both window and door open, and yet perspiring +like a terra-cotta jug or a Gruy{} ere cheese: + +We had a very good passage, which we certainly deserved no compensation +for having to sleep on the cabin floor and finding absolutely nothing +fit for human food in the whole filthy embarkation. We made up for lost +time by sleeping on deck a good part of the forenoon. When I awoke, +Simpson was still sleeping the sleep of the just, on a coil of ropes and +(as appeared afterwards) his own hat; so I got a bottle of Bass and a +pipe and laid hold of an old Frenchman of somewhat filthy aspect (fiat +experimentum in corpora vii) to try my French upon. I made very heavy +weather of it. The Frenchman had a very pretty young wife; but my +French always deserted me entirely when I had to answer her, and so she +soon drew away and left me to her lord, who talked of French politics, +Africa, and domestic economy with great vivacity. From Ostend a smoking +hot journey to Brussels! At Brussels we went off after dinner to the +Pare. If any person wants to be happy, I should advise the Pare. You +sit drinking iced drinks and smoking penny cigars under great old trees. + +The band place, covered walks, etc., are all lit up; and you can't fancy +how beautiful was the contrast of the great masses of lamplit foliage +and the dark sapphire night sky with just one blue star set overhead in +the middle of the largest patch. In the dark walks, too, there are +crowds of people whose faces you cannot see, and here and there a +colossal white statue at the corner of an alley that gives the place a +nice, _artificial,_ eighteenth-century sentiment. There was a good deal +of summer lightning blinking overhead, and the black avenues and white +statues leapt out every minute into short-lived distinctness. + + II. + +My dear Colvin,---Any time between eight and half-past nine in the +morning, a slender gentleman in an ulster, with a volume buttoned into +the breast of it, may be observed leaving No. 608 Bush and descending +Powell with an active step. The gentleman is R. L. S.; the volume +relates to Benjamin Franklin, on whom he meditates one of his charming +essays. He descends Powell, crosses Market, and descends in Sixth on +a branch of the original Pine Street Coffee House, no less; +I believe he would be capable of going to the original itself, +if he could only find it. In the branch he seats himself +at a table covered with waxcloth, and a pampered menial, of high +Dutch extraction and, indeed, as yet only partially extracted, +lays before him a cup of coffee, a roll, and a pat of butter, all, +to quote the deity, very good. Awhile ago, and H. L. S. used to find +the supply of butter insufficient; but he has now learned the art to +exactitude, and butter and roll expire at the same moment. +For this refection he pays ten cents, or five pence sterling (0 0s 5d). + +Half an hour later, the inhabitants of Bush Street observe the same +slender gentleman armed, like George Washington, with his little +hatchet, splitting kindling, and breaking coal for his fire. +He does this quasi-publicly upon the window-sill; but this is not to be +attributed to any love of notoriety, though he is indeed vain of his +prowess with the hatchet (which he persists in calling an axe), +and daily surprised at the perpetuation of his fingers. The reason is +this: that the sill is a strong, supporting beam, and that blows of the +same emphasis in other parts, of his room might knock the entire shanty +into hell. Thenceforth, for from three to four hours, he is engaged +darkly with an ink-bottle. Yet he is not blacking _his_ boots, for the +only pair that he possesses are innocent of lustre and wear the natural +hue of the material turned up with caked and venerable slush. The youngest +child of his landlady remarks several times a day, as this strange occupant +enters or quits the house, "Dere's de author." Can it be that this +bright-haired innocent has found the true clue to the mystery? The being +in question is, at least, poor enough to belong to that honorable craft. + +Notes. + +The first of these two letters by Stevenson was written very +early in his literary career, the second when he may be supposed +to have been at the height of his powers. It is interesting to see to +what extent he had improved his style. + +Note now much suggestiveness (apart from the apparent meaning) is +contained in such words and phrases as "the whole filthy embarkation;" +"made very heavy weather of it" (speaking French); "Parc"; +"_artificial_" (the peculiar meaning being indicated by italicizing); +"pampered menial" (the reference being to just the opposite). + +There is a peculiar mechanical sort of humor in omitting the word +_street_ after "Bush," "Powell," etc., and in giving the cost of his +meal so elaborately---"ten cents, or fivepence sterling (0 0s 5d)." + +The chief source of fun is in giving small things an importance they do +not deserve. The author is making fun at himself. Of course since he +makes fun at himself it is good-natured; but it must be just as +good-natured if one is to make fun of any one else. Addison was so +successful because no suggestion of malice ever crept into his satire. + +A LETTER TO BERNARD BARTON. + +By Charles Lamb. + +January 9, 1824. + +Dear B. B.,---Do you know what it is to succumb under an insurmountable +day-mare,---a "whoreson lethargy," Falstaff calls it,---an indisposition +to do anything or to be anything; a total deadness and distaste; a +suspension of vitality; an indifference to locality; a numb, soporifical +good-for-nothingness; an ossification all over; an oyster-like +insensibility to the passing events; a mind-stupor; a brawny de---fiance +to the needles of a thrust-in conscience? Did you ever have a very bad +cold with a total irresolution to submit to water-gruel processes? +This has been for many weeks my lot and my excuse. My fingers drag +heavily over this paper, and to my thinking it is three-and-twenty +furlongs from here to the end of this demi-sheet. I have not a thing to +say, nothing is of more importance than another. I am flatter than a +denial or a pancake; emptier than Judge Parke's wig when the head is in +it; duller than a country stage when the actors are off it,---a cipher, +an o! I acknowledge life at all only by an occasional convulsional +cough, and a permanent phlegmatic pain in the chest. I am weary of the +world; life is weary of me. My day is gone into twilight, and I don't +think it worth the expense of candles. My wick bath a thief in it, but +I can't muster courage to snuff it. I inhale suffocation; I can't +distinguish veal from mutton; nothing interests me. 'Tis twelve +o'clock, and Thurtell* is just now coming out upon the new drop, Jack +Ketch alertly tucking up his greasy sleeves to do the last office of +mortality; yet cannot I elicit a groan or a moral reflection. If you +told me the world will be at an end tomorrow, I should say "Will it?" +I have not volition enough left to dot my i's, much less to comb my +eyebrows; my eyes are set in my head; my brains are gone out to see a +poor relation in Moorfields, and they did not say when they'd come back +again; my skull is a Grub-street attic to let,---not so much as a +joint-stool left in it; my hand writes, not I, from habit, as chickens +run about a little when their heads are cut off. Oh for a vigorous fit +of gout, colic, toothache---an earwig{#} * in my auditory, a fly in my +visual organs; pain is life,---the sharper the more evidence of life; +but this apathy, this death! Did you ever have an obstinate cold, a six +or seven weeks' unintermitting chill and suspension of hope, fear, +conscience, and everything? Yet do I try all I can to cure it. I try +wine, and spirits, and smoking, and snuff in unsparing quantities; but +they all only seem to make me worse, instead of better. I sleep in a +damp room, but it does no good; I come home late o' nights, but do not find +any visible amendment! Who shall deliver me from the body of this death? + + *Hanged that day for the murder of Weare. + + {#} *An ant + +It is just fifteen minutes after twelve. Thurtell is by this +time a good way on his journey, baiting at Scorpion, perhaps. +Ketch is bargaining for his cast coat and waistcoat; and the Jew demurs +at first at three half-crowns, but on consideration that he may get +somewhat by showing 'em in the town, finally closes. C. L. + +Notes. + +The danger of not adapting your method to your auditor is well +illustrated by the beginning of Lamb's next letter to the same person: + +"My dear sir,---That peevish letter of mine, which was meant to convey +an apology for my incapacity to write, seems to have been taken by you in +too +serious a light,---it was only my way of telling you I had a severe cold." + +Lamb's letter is filled with about every figure of speech known to +rhetoricians: It will be a useful exercise to pick them out. + +Any person who does not have a well developed sense of humor will hardly +see the force of the reference to Thurtell, the murderer. It is a +whimsical way of indicating by a specific example how empty the writer's +brain was, forcing him to reflect on such a subject in so trivial a manner. + +Observe the occasional summing up of the meaning, curiously repeating +exactly the same thing---"Did you ever have a very bad cold---?" +"Did you ever have an obstinate cold---?" The very short sentences +summarize the very long ones. The repetition is meant to give the +impression of being clumsy and stupid. In describing harshness we use +words that are harsh, in describing awkwardness we use words that are +awkward, in describing brightness and lightness we use words that are +bright and light, in the very words themselves giving a concrete +illustration of what we mean. + + +CHAPTER V. + +RIDICULE: + +Poe. + +I have said that humor is good-natured and winning. This is always +true, though the winning of one reader may be at the expense of some +other. Humor used to win one at the expense of another is called +_satire_ and _sarcasm_. The simplest form of using satire and sarcasm +is in direct _ridicule_. + +Ridicule, satire, and sarcasm are suitable for use against an open +enemy, such as a political opponent, against a public nuisance which +ought to be suppressed, or in behalf of higher ideals and standards. +The one thing that makes this style of little effect is anger or morbid +intensity. While some thing or some one is attacked, perhaps with +ferocity, results are to be obtained by winning the reader. So it comes +about that winning, good-natured humor is an essential element in really +successful ridicule. If intense or morbid hatred or temper is allowed +to dominate, the reader is repulsed and made distrustful, +and turns away without being affected in the desired way at all. + +The following, which opens a little known essay of Edgar Allan Poe's, +is one of the most perfect examples of simple ridicule in the English +language. We may have our doubts as to whether Poe was justified in +using such withering satire on poor Mr. Channing; but we cannot help +feeling that the workmanship is just what it ought to be when ridicule +is employed in a proper cause. Perhaps the boosting of books into +public regard by the use of great names is a proper and sufficient +subject for attack by ridicule. + +WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING. + +By Edgar Allan Poe. + +In speaking of Mr. William Ellery Channing, who has just published a +very neat little volume of poems, we feel the necessity of employing the +indefinite rather than the definite article. He is _a,_ and by no means +_the,_ William Ellery Channing. He is only the _son_* of the great +essayist deceased. . . It may be said in his favor that nobody ever +heard of him. Like an honest woman, he has always succeeded in keeping +himself from being made the subject of gossip. His book contains about +sixty-three things, which he calls poems, and which he no doubt +seriously supposes to be such. They are full of all kinds of mistakes, +of which the most important is that of their having been printed at all. + +They are not precisely English---nor will we insult a great +nation by calling them Kickapoo; perhaps they are Channingese. +We may convey some general idea of them by two foreign terms not in +common use---the Italian _pavoneggiarsi,_ "to strut like a peacock," +and the German word for "sky-rocketing," _Schwarmerei_. They are more +preposterous, in a word, than any poems except those of the author of +"Sam Patch;" for we presume we are right (are we not?) in taking it for +granted that the author of "Sam Patch" is the very worst of all the +wretched poets that ever existed upon the earth. + +In spite, however, of the customary phrase of a man's "making a fool of +himself," we doubt if any one was ever a fool of his own free will and +accord. A poet, therefore, should not always be taken too strictly to +task. He should be treated with leniency, and even when damned, should +be damned with respect. Nobility of descent, too, should be allowed its +privileges not more in social life than in letters. The son of a great +author cannot be handled too tenderly by the critical Jack Ketch. +Mr. Channing must be hung, that's true. He must be hung _in terrorem +--and_ for this there is no help under the sun; but then we shall do him +all manner of justice, and observe every species of decorum, and be +especially careful of his feelings, and hang him gingerly and +gracefully, with a silken cord, as Spaniards hang their grandees of the +blue blood, their nobles of the _sangre azul_. + + *Really the _nephew_. + +To be serious, then, as we always wish to be, if possible, Mr. Channing +(whom we suppose to be a _very_ young man, since we are precluded from +supposing him a _very_ old one), appears to have been inoculated at the +same moment with _virus_ from Tennyson and from Carlyle, etc. + +Notes. + +The three paragraphs which we have quoted illustrate three different +methods of using ridicule. The first is the simple one of contemptuous +epithets--"calling names," as we put it in colloquial parlance. +So long as it is good-humored and the writer does not show personal +malice, it is a good way; but the reader soon tires of it. +A sense of fairness prevents him from listening to mere calling of names +very long. So in the second paragraph Poe changes his method to one +more subtile: he pretends to apologize and find excuses, virtually +saying to the reader, "Oh, I'm going to be perfectly fair," while at the +same time the excuses are so absurd that the effect is ridicule of a +still more intense and biting type. In the third paragraph Poe seems +to answer the reader's mental comment to the effect that "you are merely +amusing us by your clever wit" by asserting that he means to be +extremely serious. He then proceeds about his business with a most +solemn face, which is as amusing in literature as it is in comic +representations on the stage. + +In practising upon this type of writing one must select a subject that +he feels to be decidedly in need of suppression. Perhaps the most +impersonal and easy subject to select for practice is a popular novel +in which one can see absurdities, or certain ridiculous departments in +the newspapers, such as the personal-advice column. Taking such a +subject, adapt Poe's language to it with as little change as possible. + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE RHETORICAL, IMPASSIONED AND LOFTY STYLES: + +Macaulay and De Quincey. The familiar style of the humorist is almost +universal in its availability. It is the style of conversation, to a +great extent---at least of the best conversation,---of letter-writing, +of essay-writing, and, in large part, of fiction. But there are moments +when a different and more, hard and artificial style is required. +These moments are few, and many people never have them at all. +Some people try to have them and thereby fall into the fault of "fine +writing." But it is certainly very important that when the great moment +comes we should be prepared for it. Then a lofty and more or less +artificial style is demanded as imperatively as the key-stone of an arch +when the arch is completed except for the key-stone. Without the +ability to write one lofty sentence, all else that we have said may +completely fail of its effect, however excellent in itself. + +There are three kinds of prose which may be used on such occasions as +we have described. The lowest and most common of these, as it is the +most artificial and most easily acquired, is the rhetorical, or +oratorical, style, the style of all orators, the style which is called +eloquence. Of course we may find specimens of it in actual oratory, but +it is best illustrated in its use for written compositions in Macaulay. +The next variety, more rarely used, was especially developed if not +actually invented by De Quincey and was called by him impassioned prose. + +It would seem at first that language could go no higher; but it does +mount a little higher simply by trying to do less, and we have loftiness +in its plain simplicity, as when man stands bareheaded and humble in the +presence of God alone. + +Macaulay's style is highly artificial, but its rotundity, its movement, +its impressive sweep have made it popular. Almost any one can acquire +some of its features; but the ease with which it is acquired makes it +dangerous in a high degree, for the writer becomes fascinated with it and +uses it far too often. It is true that Macaulay used it practically all +the time; but it is very doubtful it Macaulay would have succeeded so well +with it to-day, when the power of simplicity is so much better understood. + +De Quincey's "impassioned prose" was an attempt on his part to imitate +the effects of poetry in prose. Without doubt he succeeded wonderfully; +but the art is so difficult that no one else has equalled him and prose +of the kind that he wrote is not often written. Still, it is worth while +to try to catch some of his skill. He began to write this kind of +composition in "The Confessions of an English Opium Eater," but he reached +perfection only in some compositions intended as sequels to that book, +namely, "Suspiria de Profundis," and "The English Mail Coach," with its +"Vision of Sudden Death," and "Dream-Fugue" upon the theme of sudden death. + +What we should strive for above all is the mighty effect of simple and +bare loftiness of thought. Masters of this style have not been few, +and they seem to slip into it with a sudden and easy upward sweep that +can be compared to nothing so truly as to the upward flight of an eagle. +They mount because their spirits are lofty. No one who has not a lofty +thought has any occasion to write the lofty style; and such a person +will usually succeed best by paying very little attention to the manner +when he actually comes to write of high ideas. Still, the lofty style +should be studied and mastered like any other. + +It is to be noted that all these styles are applicable chiefly if not +altogether to description. Narration may become intense at times, +but its intensity demands no especial alteration of style. Dialogue, +too, may be lofty, but only in dramas of passion, and very few people +are called upon to write these. But it is often necessary to indicate +a loftier, a more serious atmosphere, and this is effected by +description of surrounding details in an elevated manner. + +One of the most natural, simple, and graceful of lofty descriptions may +be found in Ruskin's "King of the Golden River," Chapter III, +where he pictures the mountain scenery: + +It was, indeed, a morning that might have made any one happy, even with +no Golden River to seek for. Level lines of dewy mist lay stretched +along the valley, out of which rose the massy mountains,---their lower +cliffs in pale gray shadow, hardly distinguishable from the floating +vapor, but gradually ascending till they caught the sunlight, +which ran in sharp touches of ruddy color along the angular crags, and +pierced in long, level rays, through their fringes of spear-like Pine. +Far above, shot up splintered masses of castellated rock, +jagged and shivered into myriads of fantastic forms, with here and there +a streak of sunlit snow, traced down their chasms like a line of forked +lightning; and, far beyond, and far above all these, fainter than the +morning cloud, but purer and changeless, slept in the blue sky, the +utmost peaks of the eternal snow. + +If we ask how this loftiness is attained, the reply must be, first, +that the subject is lofty and deserving of lofty description. +Indeed, the description never has a right to be loftier than the +subject. Then, examining this passage in detail, we find that the words +are all dignified, and in their very sound they are lofty, as for +instance "massy," "myriads," "castellated," "angular crags." +The very sound of the words seems to correspond to the idea. +Notice the repetition of the letter _i_ in "Level lines of dewy mist lay +stretched along the valley." This repetition of a letter is called +alliteration, and here it serves to suggest in and of itself the idea +of the level. The same effect is produced again in "streak of sunlit +snow" with the repetition of _s_. The entire passage is filled with +_alliteration,_ but it is used so naturally that you would never think +of it unless your attention were called to it. + +Next, we note that the structure rises gradually but steadily upward. +We never jump to loftiness, and always find it necessary to climb there. + +"Jumping to loftiness" is like trying to lift oneself by one's +boot-straps: it is very ridiculous to all who behold it. Ruskin begins +with a very ordinary sentence. He says it was a fine morning, +just as any one might say it. But the next sentence starts suddenly +upward from the dead level, and to the end of the paragraph we +rise, terrace on terrace, by splendid sweeps and jagged cliffs, +till at the end we reach "the eternal snow." + +Exercise. + +The study of the following selections from Macaulay and De Quincey may +be conducted on a plan a trifle different from that heretofore employed. + +The present writer spent two hours each day for two weeks reading this +passage from Macaulay over and over: then he wrote a short essay on +"Macaulay as a Model of Style," trying to describe Macaulay's style as +forcibly and skillfully as Macaulay describes the Puritans. +The resulting paper did not appear to be an imitation of Macaulay, +but it had many of the strong features of Macaulay's style which had not +appeared in previous work. The same method was followed in the study +of De Quincey's "English Mail Coach," with even better results. +The great difficulty arose from the fact that these lofty styles were +learned only too well and were not counterbalanced by the study of other +and more universally useful styles. It is dangerous to become +fascinated with the lofty style, highly useful as it is on occasion. + +If the student does not feel that he is able to succeed by the method +of study just described, let him confine himself to more direct +imitation, following out Franklin's plan. + + +THE PURITANS. + +(From the essay on Milton.) + +By T. B. Macaulay. + +We would speak first of the Puritans, the most remarkable body of men, +perhaps, which the world has ever produced. The odious and ridiculous +parts of their character lie on the surface. He that runs may read +them; nor have there been wanting attentive and malicious observers to +point them out. For many years after the Restoration, they were the +theme of unmeasured invective and derision. They were exposed to the +utmost licentiousness of the press and of the stage, when the press and +the stage were most licentious. They were not men of letters; +they were, as a body, unpopular; they could not defend themselves; +and the public would not take them under its protection. They were +therefore abandoned, without reserve, to the tender mercies +of the satirists and dramatists. The ostentatious simplicity of their +dress, their sour aspect, their nasal twang, their stiff posture, their +long graces, their Hebrew names, the Scriptural phrases which they +introduced on every occasion, their contempt of human learning, their +destestation of polite amusements, were indeed fair game for the +laughers. But it is not from the laughers alone that the philosophy of +history is to be learnt. And he who approaches this subject should +carefully guard against the influence of that potent ridicule which has +already misled so many excellent writers. + + . . . . . . . . + +Those who roused the people to resistance, who directed their measures +through a long series of eventful years, who formed out of the most +unpromising materials, the finest army that Europe has ever seen, who +trampled down King, Church, and Aristocracy, who, in the short intervals +of domestic sedition and rebellion, made the name of England terrible to +every nation on the face of the earth, were no vulgar fanatics. +Most of their absurdities were mere external badges, like the signs of +freemasonry, or the dress of the friars. We regret that these badges +were not more attractive. We regret that a body to whose courage and +talents mankind has owed inestimable obligations had not the lofty +elegance which distinguished some of the adherents of Charles the First, +or the easy good-breeding for which the court of Charles the Second +was celebrated. But, if we must make our choice, we shall, like Bassanio +in the play, turn from the specious caskets which contain only the Death's +head and the Fool's head and fix on the plain leaden chest which conceals +the treasure. + +The Puritans were men whose minds had derived a peculiar character from +the daily contemplation of superior beings and eternal interests. +Not content with acknowledging in general terms an overruling +Providence, they habitually ascribed every event to the will of the +Great Being, for whose power nothing was too vast, for whose inspection +nothing was too minute. To know him, to serve him, to enjoy him, +was with them the great end of existence. They rejected with contempt +the ceremonious homage which other sects substituted for the pure +worship of the soul. Instead of catching occasional glimpses of the +Deity through an obscuring veil, they aspired to gaze full on his +intolerable brightness, and to commune with him face to face. +Hence originated their contempt for terrestrial distinctions. +The difference between the greatest and the meanest of mankind seemed +to vanish, when compared with the boundless intervals which separated +the whole race from him on whom their eyes were constantly +fixed. They recognized no title to superiority but his favor; +and, confident of that favor, they despised all the accomplishments and +all the dignities of the world. If they were unacquainted with the +works of philosophers and poets, they were deeply read in the oracles +of God. If their names were not found in the registers of heralds, +they were recorded in the Book of Life. If their steps were not +accompanied by a splendid train of menials, legions of ministering +angels had charge over them. Their palaces were houses not made with +hands; their diadems crowns of glory which should never fade away. +On the rich and the eloquent, on nobles and priests, they looked down +with contempt: for they esteemed themselves rich in a more precious +treasure, and eloquent in a more sublime language, nobles' by the right +of an earlier creation, and priests by the imposition of a mightier +hand. The very meanest of them was a being to whose fate a mysterious +and terrible importance belonged, on whose slightest action the spirits +of light and darkness looked with anxious interest, who had been +destined, before heaven and earth were created, to enjoy a felicity +which should continue when heaven and earth should have passed away. +Events which shortsighted politicians ascribed to earthly causes, +had been ordained on his account. For his sake empires had risen, +and flourished, and decayed. For his sake the Almighty had proclaimed +his will by the pen of the Evangelist, and the harp of the prophet. +He had been wrested by no common deliverer from the grasp of no common +foe. He had been ransomed by the sweat of no vulgar agony, +by the blood of no earthly sacrifice. It was for him that the sun had +been darkened, that the rocks had been rent, that the dead had risen, +that all nature had shuddered at the suffering of her expiring God. + +Thus the Puritans were made up of two different men, the one all +self-abasement, penitence, gratitude, passion, the other proud, calm, +inflexible, sagacious. He prostrated himself in the dust before his +Maker: but he set his foot on the neck of his king. In his devotional +retirement, he prayed with convulsions, and groans, and tears. +He was half maddened by glorious or terrible illusions. He heard the +lyres of angels or the tempting whispers of fiends. He caught a gleam +of the Beatific Vision, or woke screaming from dreams of everlasting +fire. Like Vane, he thought himself intrusted with the sceptre of the +millienial year. Like Fleetwood he cried in the bitterness of his soul +that God had hid his face from him. But when he took his seat in the +council, or girt on his sword for war, these tempestuous works of the +soul had left no perceptible trace behind them. + +People who saw nothing of the godly but their uncouth visages, and heard +nothing from them but their groans and their whining hymns, might laugh +at them. But those had little reason to laugh who encountered them in +the hall of debate or in the field of battle. These fanatics brought +to civil affairs a coolness of judgment and an immutability of purpose +which some writers have thought inconsistent with their religious zeal, +but which were in fact the necessary effects of it. The intensity of +their feelings on one subject made them tranquil on every other. +One overpowering sentiment had subjected to itself pity and hatred, +ambition and fear. Death had lost its terrors, and pleasure its charms. + +They had their smiles and their tears, their raptures and their sorrows, +but not for the things of this world. Enthusiasm had made them Stoics, +had cleared their minds from every vulgar passion and prejudice, +and raised them above the influence of danger and of corruption. +It sometimes might lead them to pursue unwise ends, but never to choose +unwise means. They went through the world like Sir Artegal's iron man +Talus with his flail, crushing and trampling down oppressors, mingling +with human beings, but having neither part nor lot in human infirmities, +insensible to fatigue, to pleasure, and to pain, not to be pierced by +any weapon, not to be withstood by a n barrier. + +Such we believe to have been the character of the Puritans. +We perceive the absurdity of their manners. We dislike the sullen gloom of +their domestic habits. We acknowledge that the tone of their minds was +often injured by straining after things too high for mortal reach: +and we know that, in spite of their hatred of Popery, they too often fell +into the worst vices of that bad system, intolerance and extravagant +austerity, that they had their anchorites and their crusades, +their Dunstans and their De Montforts, their Dominics and their Escobars. +Yet, when all circumstances are taken into consideration, we do not +hesitate to pronounce them a brave, a wise, an honest, and a useful body. + +Notes. + +The most casual examination of Macaulay's style shows us that the words, +the sentences, and the paragraphs are all arranged in rows, one on this +side, one on that, a column here, another just like it over there, +a whole row of columns above this window, and a whole row of columns +above that window, just as bricks are built up in geometrical design. +Almost every word contains an antithesis. The whole constitutes what is +called the _balanced structure_. + +We see also that Macaulay frequently repeats the same word again and +again, and the repetition gives strength. Indeed, repetition is necessary +to make this balanced structure: there must always be so much likeness and +so much unlikeness---and the likeness and unlikeness must just balance. + +We have shown the utility of variation: Macaulay shows the force there +is in monotony, in repetition. In one sentence after another through +an entire paragraph he repeats the same thing over and over and over. +There is no rising by step after step to something higher in Macaulay: +everything is on the dead level; but it is a powerful, heroic level. + +The first words repeated and contrasted are press and stage. +The sentence containing these words is balanced nicely. In the +following sentence we have four short sentences united into one, and the +first clause contrasts with the second and the third with the fourth. +The sentence beginning "The ostentatious simplicity of their +dress" gives us a whole series of subjects, all resting on a +single short predicate---"were fair game for the laughers." +The next sentence catches up the, word "laughers" and plays upon it. + +In the second paragraph we have as subject "those" followed by a whole +series of relative clauses beginning with "who," and this series again +rests on a very short predicate---"were no vulgar fanatics." + +And so on through the entire description, we find series after series, +contrast after contrast; now it is a dozen words all in the same +construction, now a number of sentences all beginning in the same way +and ending in the same way. + +The first paragraph takes up the subject of the contrast of those who +laughed and those who were laughed at. The second paragraph +enlarges upon good points in the objects of the examination. +The third paragraph describes their minds, and we perceive that Macaulay +has all along been leading into this by his series of contrasts. +In the fourth paragraph he brings the two sides into the closest +possible relations, so that the contrast reaches its height. +The last short paragraph sums up the facts. + +This style, though highly artificial, is highly useful when used in +moderation. It is unfortunate that Macaulay uses it so constantly. +When he cannot find contrasts he sometimes makes them, and to make them +he distorts the truth. Besides, he wearies us by keeping us too +monotonously on a high dead level. In time we come to feel that he is +making contrasts merely because he has a passion for making them, +not because they serve any purpose. But for one who wishes to learn +this style, no better model can be found in the English language. + + + +DREAM-FUGUE + +On the Theme of Sudden Death.* + +By Thomas De Quincey. + + *"The English Mail-Coach" consists of three sections, "The Glory of +Motion," "vision of Sudden Death," and "Dream-Fugue." De Quincey +describes riding on the top of a heavy mail-coach. In the dead of night +they pass a young couple in a light gig, and the heavy mail-coach just +escapes shattering the light gig and perhaps killing the young +occupants. De Quincey develops his sensations in witnessing this +"vision of sudden death," and rises step by step to the majestic beauty +and poetic passion of the dream-fugue. + + "Whence the sound + Of instruments, that made melodious chime, + Was heard, of harp and organ; and who moved + Their stops and chords, was seen; his volant touch + Instinct through all proportions, low and high, + Fled and pursued transverse the resonant fugue." + +Paradise Lost, Book XI. + + + +_Tumultuosissimamente_. + +Passion of sudden death! that once in youth I read and interpreted by +the shadows of thy averted signs!---rapture of panic taking the shape +(which amongst tombs in churches I have seen) of woman bursting her +selpuchral bonds---of woman's ionic form bending forward from the ruins +of her grave with arching foot, with eyes upraised, with clasped, +adoring hands---waiting, watching, trembling, praying for the trumpet's +call to rise from dust forever! Ah, vision too fearful of shuddering +humanity on the brink of mighty abysses!---vision that didst start back, +that didst reel away, like a shivering scroll before the wrath of fire +racing on the wings of the wind! Epilepsy so brief of horror, wherefore +is it that thou canst not die? Passing so suddenly into darkness, +wherefore is it that still thou sheddest thy sad funeral blights upon +the gorgeous mosaic of dreams? Fragments of music too passionate, +heard once and heard no more, what aileth thee, that thy deep rolling +chords come up at intervals through all the worlds of sleep, +and after forty years, have lost no element of horror? + + I. + +Lo, it is summer---almighty summer! The everlasting gates of life and +summer are thrown open wide; and on the ocean tranquil and verdant as +a savannah, the unknown lady from the dreadful vision and I myself are +floating---she upon a fairy pinnace, and I upon an English three-decker. + +Both of us are wooing gales of festive happiness within the domain of +our common country, within that ancient watery park, within that +pathless chase of ocean, where England takes her pleasure as a huntress +through winter and summer, from the rising to the setting sun. +Ah, what a wilderness of floral beauty was hidden, or was suddenly +revealed, upon the tropic islands through which the pinnace moved! +And upon her deck what a bevy of human flowers---young women how lovely, +young men bow noble, that were dancing together, and slowly drifting +toward us amidst music and incense, amidst blossoms from forests and +gorgeous corymbi from vintages, amidst natural carolling, and the echoes +of sweet girlish laughter. Slowly the pinnace nears us, gaily she hails +us, and silently she disappears beneath the shadow of our mighty bows. +But then, as at some signal from heaven, the music, and the carols, +and the sweet echoing of girlish laughter,---all are hushed. +What evil has smitten the pinnace, meeting or overtaking her? Did ruin +to our friends couch within our own dreadful shadow? Was our shadow the +shadow of death? I looked over the bow for an answer, and, behold! the +pinnace was dismantled; the revel and the revellers were found no more; +the glory of the vintage was dust; and the forests with their beauty +were left without a witness upon the seas. "But where," and I turned to +our crew---"where are the lovely women that danced beneath the awning of +flowers and clustering corynibi? Whither have fled the noble young men +that danced with _them?_" Answer there was none. But suddenly the man +at the masthead, whose countenance darkened with alarm, cried out, "Sail +on the weather beam! Down she comes upon us; in seventy seconds she +also will founder," + + II. + +I looked to the weather side, and the summer had departed. +The sea was rocking, and shaking with gathering wrath. Upon +its surface sat mighty mists, which grouped themselves into arches +and long cathedral aisles. Down one of these, with the fiery pace of +a quarrel from a crossbow, ran a frigate right athwart our course. +"Are they mad?" some voice exclaimed from our deck. "Do they woo their +ruin?" But in a moment, as she was close upon us, some impulse of a +heady current or local vortex gave a wheeling bias to her course, +and off she forged without a shock. As she ran past us, high aloft +amongst the shrouds stood the lady of the pinnace. The deeps in malice +opened ahead to receive her, the billows were fierce to catch her. +But far away she was borne upon the desert spaces of the sea: +whilst still by sight I followed her, she ran before the howling gale, +chased by angry sea-birds and by maddening billows: still I saw her, +as at the moment when she ran past us, standing amongst the shrouds, +with her white draperies streaming before the wind. There she stood, +with hair dishevelled, one hand clutched amongst the tackling---rising, +sinking, fluttering, trembling, praying---there for leagues I saw her as +she stood, raising at intervals one hand to heaven, amidst the fiery +crests of the pursuing waves and the raving of the storm; until at last, +upon a sound from afar of malicious laughter and mockery, all was hidden +forever in driving showers; and afterwards, but when I know not, nor how. + +Notes. + +De Quincey's "Dream-Fugue" is as luxuriant and extravagant a use of +metaphor as Macaulay's "Puritans" is of the use of antithesis +and the balanced structure. The whole thing is a metaphor, +and every part is a metaphor within a metaphor. + +This is much more than mere fine writing. It is a metaphorical +representation of the incident he has previously described. +In that incident he was particular struck by the actions of the lady. +The young man turned his horse out of the path of the coach, but some +part of the coach struck one of the wheels of the gig, and as it did so, +the lady involuntarily started up, throwing up her arms, and at once +sank back as in a faint. De Quincey did not see her face, and hence he +speaks in this description of "averted signs?" The "woman bursting her +sepulchral bonds" probably refers to a tomb in Westminster Abbey which +represents a woman escaping from the door of the tomb, and Death, +a skeleton, is just behind her, but too late to catch her "arching foot" +as she flies upward---presumably as a spirit. + +So every image corresponds to a reality, either in the facts or in +De Quincey's emotion at the sight of them. The novice fails in such +writing as this because he becomes enamored of his beautiful images and +forgets what he is trying to illustrate. The relation between reality +and image should be as invariable as mathematics. If such startling +images cannot be used with perfect clearness and vivid perception of +their usefulness and value, they should not be used at all. +De Quincey is so successful because his mind comprehends every detail +of the scene, and through the images we see the bottom truth as through +a perfect crystal. A clouded diamond is no more ruined by its +cloudiness than a clouded metaphor. + +As in Ruskin's description of the mountain, we see in this the value of +the sounds of words, and how they seem to make music in themselves. +A Word lacking in dignity in the very least would have ruined the whole +picture, and so would a word whose rotund sound did not correspond to +the loftiness of the passage. Perhaps the only word that jars is +"English three-decker"---but the language apparently afforded De Quincey +no substitute which would make his meaning clear. + + +CHAPTER VII. + +RESERVE: + +Thackeray. + +It has been hinted that the rhetorical, impassioned, and lofty styles +are in a measure dangerous. The natural corrective of that danger is +artistic _reserve_. + +Reserve is a negative quality, and so it has not been emphasized by +writers on composition as it ought to be. But if it is negative, +it is none the less real and important, and fortunately we have in +Thackeray a masterly example of its positive power. + +Originally reserve is to be traced to a natural reticence and modesty +in the character of the author who employs it. It may be studied, +however, and cultivated as a characteristic of style. As an artistic +quality it consists in saying exactly what the facts demand, no more, +no less---and to say no more especially on those occasions when most +people employ superlatives. Macaulay was not characterized by reserve. +He speaks of the Puritans as "the most remarkable body of men the world +ever produced." "Most" is a common word in his vocabulary, since it +served so well to round out the phrase and the idea. Thackeray, on the +other hand, is almost too modest. He is so afraid of saying too much +that sometimes he does not say enough, and that may possibly account for +the fact that he was never as popular as the overflowing Dickens. +The lack of reserve made Dickens "slop over" occasionally, +as indelicate critics have put it; and the presence of reserve did more +than any other one thing to give Thackeray the reputation for perfect +style which all concede to him. + +One of the most famous passages in all of Thackeray's works is the +description of the battle of Waterloo in "Vanity Fair," ch. XXXII: + +All that day, from morning till past sunset, the cannon never ceased to +roar. It was dark when the cannonading stopped all of a sudden. + +All of us have read of what occurred during that interval. The tale is +in every Englishman's mouth; and you and I, who were children when the +great battle was won and lost, are never tired of hearing and recounting +the history of that famous action. Its remembrance rankles still in the +bosoms of millions of the countrymen of those brave men who lost the +day. They pant for an opportunity of revenging that humiliation; and if +a contest, ending in a victory on their part, should ensue, elating them +in their turn, and leaving its cursed legacy of hatred and rage behind +to us, there is no end to the so called glory and shame, and to the +alternation of successful and unsuccessful murder, in which two +high-spirited nations might engage. Centuries hence, we Frenchmen and +Englishmen might be boasting and killing each other still, +carrying out bravely the Devil's code of honor. + +All our friends took their share, and fought like men in the great +field. All day long, while the women were praying ten miles away, +the lines of the dauntless English infantry were receiving and repelling +the furious charges of the French horsemen. Guns which were heard in +Brussels were ploughing up their ranks, and comrades falling, and the +resolute survivors closing in. Towards evening, the attack of the +French, repeated and resisted so bravely, slackened in its fury. +They had other foes besides the British to engage, or were preparing for +a final onset. It came at last; the columns of the Imperial Guard +marched up the hill of Saint Jean, at length and at once to sweep the +English from the height which they had maintained all day and spite of +all; unscared by the thunder of the artillery, which hurled death from +the English line,---the dark rolling column pressed on and up the hill. +It seemed almost to crest the eminence, when it began to wave and +falter. Then it stopped, still facing the shot. Then, at last, +the English troops rushed from the post from which no enemy had been +able to dislodge them, and the Guard turned and fled. + +No more firing was heard at Brussels,---the pursuit rolled miles away. +Darkness came down on the field and city; and Amelia was praying for +George, who was lying on his face, dead, with a bullet through his heart. + +Who before ever began the description of a great victory by praising the +enemy! And yet when we consider it, there is no more artistically +powerful method than this, of showing how very great the enemy was, +and then saying simply, "The English defeated them." + +But Thackeray wished to do more than this. He was preparing the reader +for the awful presence of death in a private affliction, Amelia's loss +of her husband George. To do this he lets his heart go out in sympathy +for the French, and by that sympathy he seems to rise above all race, to +a supreme height where exist the griefs of the human heart and God alone. + +With all this careful preparation, the short, simple closing paragraph--- +the barest possible statement of the facts---produces an effect unsurpassed +in literature. The whole situation seems to cry out for superlatives; +yet Thackeray uses none, but remains dignified, calm, and therefore grand. + +The following selection serves as a sort of preface to the novel +"Vanity Fair." It is quite as remarkable for the things it leaves +unsaid as for the things it says. Of course its object is to whet the +reader's appetite for the story that is to follow; but throughout the +author seems to be laughing at himself. In the last paragraph we see +one of the few superlatives to be found In Thackeray---he says the show +has been "most favorably noticed" by the "conductors of the Public +Press, and by the Nobility and Gentry." Those capital letters prove the +humorous intent of the superlative, which seems to be a burlesque on +other authors who praise themselves. One of the criticisms had been +that Amelia was no better than a doll; and Thackeray takes the critics +at their word and refers to the "Amelia Doll," merely hinting gently +that even a doll may find friends. + + +BEFORE THE CURTAIN. + +(Preface to "Vanity Fair.") + +By W. M. Thackeray. + +As the Manager of the Performance sits before the curtain on the boards, +and looks into the Fair, a feeling of profound melancholy comes over him +in his survey of the bustling place. There is a great quantity of +eating and drinking, making love and jilting, laughing and the contrary, +smoking, cheating, fighting, dancing, and fiddling: there are bullies +pushing about, bucks ogling the women, knaves picking pockets, policemen +on the lookout, quacks (other quacks, plague take them!) bawling in +front of their booths, and yokels looking up at the tinselled dancers +and poor old rouged tumblers, while the light-fingered folk are +operating upon their pockets behind. Yes, this is Vanity Fair; not a +moral place certainly; nor a merry one, though very noisy. Look at the +faces of the actors and buffoons when they come off from their business; +and Tom Fool washing the paint off his cheeks before he sits down to +dinner with his wife and the little Jack Puddings behind the canvas. +The curtain will be up presently, and he will be turning over head and +heels, and crying, "How are you?" + +A man with a reflective turn of mind, walking through an exhibition of +this sort, will not be oppressed, I take it, by his own or other +people's hilarity. An episode of humor or kindness touches and amuses +him here and there,---a pretty child looking at a gingerbread stall; +a pretty girl blushing whilst her lover talks to her and chooses her +fairing; poor Tom Fool, yonder behind the wagon mumbling his bone with +the honest family which lives by his tumbling; but the general +impression is one more melancholy than mirthful. When you come home, +you sit down, in a sober, contemplative, not uncharitable frame of mind, +and apply yourself to your books or your business. + +I have no other moral than this to tag to the present story of "Vanity +Fair." Some people consider Fairs immoral altogether, and eschew such, +with their servants and families; very likely they are right. +But persons who think otherwise, and are of a lazy, or a benevolent, +or a sarcastic mood, may perhaps like to step in for half an hour, and +look at the performances. There are scenes of all sorts; some dreadful +combats, some grand and lofty horse-riding, some scenes of high life, +and some of very middling indeed; some love-making for the sentimental, +and some light comic business; the whole accompanied by appropriate +scenery, and brilliantly illuminated with the Author's own candles. + +What more has the Manager of the Performance to say?---To +acknowledge the kindness with which it has been received in all the +principal towns of England through which the show has passed, and where +it has been most favorably noticed by the respected conductors of the +Public Press, and by the Nobility and Gentry. He is proud to think that +his Puppets have given satisfaction to the very best company in this +empire. The famous little Becky Puppet has been pronounced to be +uncommonly flexible in the joints, and lively on the wire: the Amelia +Doll, though it has had a smaller circle of admirers, has yet been +carved and dressed with the greatest care by the artist: the Dobbin +Figure, though apparently clumsy, yet dances in a very amusing and +natural manner: the Little Boy's Dance has been liked by some; and +please to remark the richly dressed figure of the Wicked Nobleman, +on which no expense has been spared, and which Old Nick will fetch away +at the end of this singular performance. + +And with this, and a profound bow to his patrons, the Manager retires, +and the curtain rises. + +London, June 28, 1848. + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +CRITICISM: + +Matthew Arnold and Ruskin. + +The term "criticism" may appropriately be used to designate all writing +in which logic predominates over emotion. The style of criticism is the +style of argument, exposition, and debate, as well as of literary +analysis; and it is the appropriate style to be used in mathematical +discussions and all scientific essays. + +Of course the strictly critical style may be united with +almost any other. We are presenting pure types; but very +seldom does it happen that any composition ordinarily produced +belongs to any one pure type. Criticism would be dull without +the enlivening effects of some appeal to the emotions. We shall +Illustrate this point in a quotation from Ruskin. + +The critical style has just one secret: It depends on a very close +definition of work in ordinary use, words do not have a sufficiently +definite meaning for scientific purposes. Therefore in scientific +writing it is necessary to define them exactly, and so change common +words into technical terms. To these may be added the great body of +words used in no other way than as technical terms. + +Of course our first preparation for criticism is to master the technical +terms and technical uses of words peculiar to the subject we are treating. +Then we must make it clear to the reader that we are using words in their +technical senses so that he will know how to interpret them. + +But beyond that we must make technical terms as we go along, by defining +common words very strictly. This is nicely illustrated by Matthew Arnold, +one of the most accomplished of pure critics. The opening paragraphs of +the first chapter of "Culture and Anarchy"---the chapter entitled +"Sweetness and Light"---will serve for illustration, and the student is +referred to the complete work for material for further study and imitation. + +From "Sweetness and Light." + +The disparagers of culture, [says Mr. Arnold], make its motive +curiosity; sometimes, indeed, they make its motive mere exclusiveness +and vanity. The culture which is supposed to plume itself on a +smattering of Greek and Latin is a culture which is begotten by nothing +so intellectual as curiosity; it is valued either out of sheer vanity +and ignorance, or else as an engine of social and class distinction, +separating its holder, like a badge or title, from other people who have +not got it. No serious man would call this _culture,_ or attach any +value to it, as culture, at all. To find the real ground for the very +different estimate which serious people will set upon culture, we must +find some motive for culture in the terms of which may lie a real +ambiguity; and such a motive the word _curiosity_ gives us. + +I have before now pointed out that we English do not, like the +foreigners, use this word in a good sense as well as in a bad sense. +A liberal and intelligent eagerness about the things of the mind may be +meant by a foreigner when he speaks of curiosity, but with us the word +always conveys a certain notion of frivolous and unedifying activity. +In the _Quarterly Review,_ some little time ago, was an estimate of the +celebrated French critic, M. Sainte-Beuve, and a very inadequate +estimate it in my judgment was. And its inadequacy consisted chiefly +in this: that in our English way it left out of sight the double sense +really involved in the word _curiosity,_ thinking enough was said to +stamp M. Sainte-Beuve with blame if it was said that he was impelled +in his operations as a critic by curiosity, and omitting either to +perceive that M. Sainte-Beuve himself, and many other people with him, +would consider that this was praiseworthy and not blameworthy, +or to point out why it ought really to be accounted worthy of blame and +not of praise. For as there is a curiosity about intellectual matters +which is futile, and merely a disease, so there is certainly a +curiosity,---a desire after the things of the mind simply for their own +sakes and for the pleasure of seeing them as they are,---which is, +in an intelligent being, natural and laudable. Nay, and the very desire +to see things as they are implies a balance and regulation of mind which +is not often attained without fruitful effort, and which is the very +opposite of the blind and diseased impulse of mind which is what we mean +to blame when we blame curiosity. Montesquieu says: 'The first motive +which ought to impel us to study is the desire to augment the excellence +of our nature, and to render an intelligent being yet more intelligent.' +This is the true ground to assign for the genuine scientific passion, +however manifested, and for culture, viewed simply as a fruit of this +passion; and it is a worthy ground, even though we let the term +_curiosity_ stand to describe it. + +Starting with exact definitions of words, it is easy to pass to exact +definitions of ideas, which is the thing we should be aiming at all the +time. The logical accuracy of our language, however, is apparent +throughout. + +Matthew Arnold does not embellish his criticism, nor does he make any +special appeal to the feelings or emotions of his readers. Not so Ruskin. +He discovers intellectual emotions, and makes pleasant appeals to those +emotions. Consequently his criticism has been more popular than Matthew +Arnold's. As an example of this freer, more varied critical style, +let us cite the opening paragraphs of the lecture "Of Queens' Gardens"--in +"Sesame and Lilies": + +From "Sesame and Lilies." + +It will be well . . that I should shortly state to you my general +intention. . . The questions specially proposed to you in my former +lecture, namely How and What to Read, rose out of a far deeper one, +which it was my endeavor to make you propose earnestly to yourselves, +namely, Why to Read I want you to feel, with me, that whatever advantage +we possess in the present day in the diffusion of education and of +literature, can only be rightly used by any of us when we have +apprehended clearly what education is to lead to, and literature to +teach. I wish you to see that both well directed moral training and +well chosen reading lead to the possession of a power over the +ill-guided and illiterate, which is, according to the measure of it, in +the truest sense kingly;* conferring indeed the purest kingship that can +exist among men. Too many other kingships (however distinguished by +visible insignia or material power) being either spectral, or tyrannous; +spectral---that is to say, aspects and shadows only of royalty, hollow +as death, and which only the "likeness of a kingly crown have on;" +or else tyrannous---that is to say, substituting their own will for the +law of justice and love by which all true kings rule. + + *The preceding lecture was entitled "Of Kings's Treasures." + +There is then, I repeat (and as I want to leave this idea with you, +I begin with it, and shall end with it) only one pure kind of kingship, +---an inevitable or eternal kind, crowned or not,---the kingship, namely, +which consists in a stronger moral state and truer thoughtful state than +that of others, enabling you, therefore, to guide or to raise them. +Observe that word "state :" we have got into a loose way of using it. +It means literally the standing and stability of a thing; and you have +the full force of it in the derived word "statue"---"the immovable +thing." A king's majesty or "state," then, and the right of his kingdom +to be called a State, depends on the movelessness of both,---without +tremor, without quiver of balance, established and enthroned upon a +foundation of eternal law which nothing can alter or overthrow. + +Believing that all literature and all education are only useful so far +as they tend to confirm this calm, beneficent, and therefore kingly, +power,---first over ourselves, and, through ourselves, over all around +us,--- I am now going to ask you to consider with me further, what +special portion or kind of this royal authority, arising out of noble +education, may rightly be possessed by women; and how far they also are +called to a true queenly power,---not in their households merely, +but over all within their sphere. And in what sense, if they rightly +understood and exercised this royal or gracious influence, the order and +beauty induced by such benignant power would justify us in speaking of +the territories over which each of them reigned as 'Queens' Gardens.' + +Here still is the true critical style, with exact definitions; +but the whole argument is a metaphor, and the object of the criticism +is to rouse feelings that will lead to action. + +It will be observed that words which by definition are to be taken in +some sort of technical sense are distinguished to the eye in some way. +Matthew Arnold used italics. Ruskin first places "state" within quotation +marks, and then, when he uses the word in a still different sense, +he writes it with a capital letter---State. Capitalization is perhaps +the most common way for designating common words when used in a special +sense which is defined by the writer---or defined by implication. +This is the explanation of the capital letters with which the writings of +Carlyle are filled. He constantly endeavors to make words mean more than, +or something different from, the meaning they usually have. + +The peculiar embellishments of the critical writer are epigram, paradox, +and satire. An _epigram_ is a very short phrase or sentence which is +so full of implied meaning or suggestion that it catches the attention +at once, and remains in the memory easily. The _paradox_ is something +of the same sort on a larger scale. It is a statement that we can +hardly believe to be true, since it seems at first sight to be +self-contradictory, or to contradict well known truths or laws; +but on examination we find that in a peculiar sense it is strictly true. +_Satire_ is a variation of humor peculiarly adapted to criticism, +since it is intended to make the common idea ridiculous when compared +with the ideas which the critic is trying to bring out: it is a sort of +argument by force of stinging points. We may find an example of satire +in its perfection in Swift, especially in his "Gulliver's Travels"--- +since these are satires the point of which we can appreciate +to-day. Oscar Wilde was peculiarly given to epigram, and +in his plays especially we may find epigram carried to the same +excess that the balanced structure is carried by Macaulay. +More moderate epigram may be found in Emerson and Carlyle. +Paradox is something that we should use only on special occasion. + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE STYLE OF FICTION: + +Narrative, Description, and Dialogue. + +Dickens. + +In fiction there are three different kinds of writing which must be blended +with a fine skill, and this fact makes fiction so much the more difficult +than any other sort of writing. History is largely narrative, pure and +simple, newspaper articles are description, dramas are dialogue, but +fiction must unite in a way peculiar to itself the niceties of all three. + +We must take each style separately and master it thoroughly before +trying to combine the three in a work of fiction. The simplest is +narrative, and consists chiefly in the ability to tell a plain story +straight on to the end, just as in conversation Neighbor Gossip comes +and tells a long story to her friend the Listener. A writer will gain +this skill if he practise on writing out tales or stories just as nearly +as possible as a child would do it, supposing the child had a sufficient +vocabulary. Letter-writing, when one is away from home and wishes +to tell his intimate friends all that has happened to him, +is practice of just this sort, and the best practice. + +Newspaper articles are more descriptive than any other sort of writing. +You have a description of a new invention, of a great fire, of a +prisoner at the bar of justice. It is not quite so spontaneous as +narrative. Children seldom describe, and the newspaper man finds +difficulty in making what seems a very brief tale into a column article +until he can weave description as readily as he breathes. + +Dialogue in a story is by no means the same as the dialogue of a play: +it ought rather to be a description of a conversation, and very seldom +is it a full report of what is said on each side. + +Description is used in its technical sense to designate the presentation +of a scene without reference to events; narrative is a description of +events as they have happened, a dialogue is a description of +conversation. Fiction is essentially a descriptive art, and quite as +much is it descriptive in dialogue as in any other part. + +The best way to master dialogue as an element by itself is to study the +novels of writers like Dickens, Thackeray, or George Eliot. +Dialogue has its full development only in the novel, and it is here and +not in short stories that the student of fiction should study it. +The important points to be noticed are that only characteristic and +significant speeches are reproduced. When the conversation gives only +facts that should be known to the reader it is thrown into the indirect +or narrative form, and frequently when the impression that a conversation +makes is all that is important, this impression is described in general +terms instead of in a detailed report of the conversation itself. + +So much for the three different modes of writing individually +considered. The important and difficult point comes in the balanced +combination of the three, not in the various parts of the story, +but in each single paragraph. Henry James in his paper on +"The Art of Fiction," says very truly that every descriptive passage is +at the same time narrative, and every dialogue is in its essence also +descriptive. The truth is, the writer of stories has a style of his +own, which we may call the narrative-descriptive-dialogue style, +which is a union in one and the same sentence of all three sorts of +writing. In each sentence, to be sure, narrative or description or +dialogue will predominate; but still the narrative is always present in +the description, and the description in the dialogue, as Mr. James says; +and if you take a paragraph this fact will appear more clearly, +and if you take three or four paragraphs, or a whole story, +the fusion of all three styles in the same words is clearly apparent. + +It is impossible to give fixed rules for the varying proportion of +description, narration, or dialogue in any given passage. The writer +must guide himself entirely by the impression in his own mind. He sees +with his mind's eye a scene and events happening in it. As he describes +this from point to point he constantly asks himself, what method of +using words will be most effective here? He keeps the impression always +closely in mind. He does not wander from it to put in a descriptive +passage or a clever bit of dialogue or a pleasing narrative: he follows +out his description of the impression with faithful accuracy, thinking +only of being true to his own conception, and constantly ransacking his +whole knowledge of language to get the best expression, whatever it may +be. Now it may be a little descriptive touch, now a sentence or two out +of a conversation, now plain narration of events. Dialogue is the most +expansive and tiring, and should frequently be relieved by the condensed +narrative, which is simple and easy reading. Description should seldom +be given in chunks, but rather in touches of a brief and delicate kind, +and with the aim of being suggestive rather than full and detailed. + +Humor, and especially good humor, are indispensable to the most +successful works of fiction. Above all other kinds of writing, +fiction must win the heart of the reader. And this requires that the +heart of the writer should be tender and sympathetic. Harsh critics +call this quality sentiment, and even sentimentality. Dickens had it +above all other writers, and it is probable that this popularity has +never been surpassed. Scott succeeded by his splendid descriptions, but +no one can deny that he was also one of the biggest hearted men in the +world. And Thackeray, with all his reserve, had a heart as tender and +sympathetic as was ever borne by so polished a gentleman. + +As an almost perfect example of the blending of narrative, description, +and dialogue, all welded into an effective whole by the most delicate +and winning sentiment, we offer the following selection from +Barbox Bros. & Co., in "Mugby Junction." + +POLLY. + +By Charles Dickens. + +Although he had arrived at his journey's end for the day at noon, +he had since insensibly walked about the town so far and so long that +the lamplighters were now at their work in the streets, and the shops +were sparkling up brilliantly. Thus reminded to turn towards his +quarters, he was in the act of doing so, when a very little hand crept +into his, and a very little voice said: + +"O! If you please, I am lost!" + +He looked down, and saw a very little fair-haired girl. + +"Yes," she said, confirming her words with a serious nod. +"I am, indeed. I am lost." + +Greatly perplexed, he stopped, looked about him for help, descried none, +and said, bending low: + +"Where do you live, my child?" + +"I don't know where I live," she returned. "I am lost." + +"What is your name?" + +"Polly." + +"What is your other name?" + +The reply was prompt, but unintelligible. + +Imitating the sound, as he caught it, he hazarded the guess, "Trivits?" + +"O no!" said the child, shaking her head. "Nothing like that." + +"Say it again, little one" + +An unpromising business. For this time it had quite a different sound. + +He made the venture: "Paddens?" + +"O no!" said the child. "Nothing like that." + +"Once more. Let us try it again, dear." + +A most hopeless business. This time it swelled into four syllables. +"It can't be Tappitarver?" said s a i d Barbox Brothers, +rubbing his head with his hat in discomfiture. + +"No! It ain't," the child quietly assented. + +On her trying this unfortunate name once more, with extraordinary +efforts at distinction, it swelled into eight syllables at least. + +"Ah! I think," said Barbox Brothers, with a desperate air of +resignation, "that we had better give it up." + +"But I am lost," said the child nestling her little hand more closely +in his, "and you'll take care of me, won't you?" + +If ever a man were disconcerted by division between compassion on the +one hand, and the very imbecility of irresolution on the other, +here the man was. "Lost!" he repeated, looking down at the child. +"I am sure I am. What is to be done!" + +"Where do _you_ live?" asked the child, looking up at him wistfully. + +"Over there," he answered, pointing vaguely in the direction of the hotel. + +"Hadn't we better go there?" said the child. + +"Really," he replied, "I don't know but what we had." + +So they set off, hand in hand;---he, through comparison of himself +against his little companion, with a clumsy feeling on him as if he had +just developed into a foolish giant;---she, clearly elevated in her own +tiny opinion by having got him so neatly out of his embarrassment. + +"We are going to have dinner when we get there, I suppose?" said Polly. + +"Well," he rejoined, "I---yes, I suppose we are." + +"Do you like your dinner?" asked the child. + +"Why, on the whole," said Barbox Brothers, "yes, I think I do." + +"I do mine," said Polly "Have you any brothers and sisters?" + +"No, have you?" + +"Mine are dead." + +"O!" said Barbox Brothers. With that absurd sense of unwieldiness of +mind and body weighing him down, he would not have known how to pursue +the conversation beyond this curt rejoinder, but that the child was +always ready for him. + +"What," she asked, turning her soft hand coaxingly in his, +"are you going to do to amuse me, after dinner?" + +"Upon my soul, Polly," exclaimed Barbox Brothers, very much at a loss, +"I have not the slightest idea!" + +"Then I tell you what," said Polly. +"Have you got any cards at the house?" + +"Plenty," said Barbox Brothers, in a boastful vein. + +"Very well. Then I'll build houses, and you shall look at me. +You mustn't blow, you know." + +"O no!" said Barbox Brothers. +"No, no, no! No blowing! Blowing's not fair." + +He flattered himself that he had said this pretty well for an idiotic +monster; but the child, instantly perceiving the awkwardness of +his attempt to adapt himself to her level, utterly destroyed +his hopeful opinion of himself by saying, compassionately: +"What a funny man you are!" + +Feeling, after this melancholy failure, as if he every minute grew +bigger and heavier in person, and weaker in mind, Barbox gave himself +up for a bad job. No giant ever submitted more meekly to be led in +triumph by all-conquering Jack, than he to be bound in slavery to Polly. + +"Do you know any stories?" she asked him. + +He was reduced to the humiliating confession: + +"What a dunce you must be, mustn't you?" said Polly. + +He was reduced to the humiliating confession: + +"Would you like me to teach you a story? But you must remember it, +you know, and be able to tell it right to somebody else afterwards?" + +He professed that it would afford him the highest mental gratification +to be taught a story, and that he would humbly endeavor to retain it in +his mind. Whereupon Polly, giving her hand a new little turn in his, +expressive of settling down for enjoyment, commenced a long romance, +of which every relishing clause began with the words: "So this," or +"And so this." As, "So this boy;" or, "So this fairy;" or "And so this +pie was four yards round, and two yards and a quarter deep." +The interest of the romance was derived from the intervention of +this fairy to punish this boy for having a greedy appetite. +To achieve which purpose, this fairy made this pie, and this boy ate and +ate and ate, and his cheeks swelled and swelled and swelled. +There were many tributary circumstances, but the forcible interest +culminated in the total consumption of this pie, and the bursting of +this boy. Truly he was a fine sight, Barbox Brothers, with serious +attentive face, an ear bent down, much jostled on the pavements of the +busy town, but afraid of losing a single incident of the epic, +lest he should be examined in it by-and-by and found deficient. + +Exercise. Rewrite this little story, locating the scene in your own +town and describing yourself in the place of Barbox Bros. +Make as few changes in the wording as possible. + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE EPIGRAMMATIC STYLE: + +Stephen Crane. + +A peculiarly modern style is that in which very short sentences are used +for pungent effect. If to this characteristic of short sentences we add +a slightly unusual though perfectly obvious use of common words, we have +what has been called the "epigrammatic style," though it does not +necessarily have any epigrams in it. It is the modern newspaper and +advertisement writer's method of emphasis; and if it could be used in +moderation, or on occasion, it would be extremely effective. But to use +it at all times and for all subjects is a vice distinctly to be avoided. + +Stephen Crane's "The Red Badge of Courage" is written almost wholly in +this style. If we read three or four chapters of this story we may +see how tiring it is for the mind to be constantly jerked along. +At the same time, in a brief advertising booklet probably no other style +that is sufficiently simple and direct would be as likely to attract +immediate attention and hold it for the short time usually required to +read an advertisement. + +Crane's style has a literary turn and quality which will not be found +in the epigrammatic advertisement, chiefly because Crane is descriptive, +while the advertiser is merely argumentative. However, the +advertisement writer will learn the epigrammatic style most surely and +quickly by studying the literary form of it. + +From "The Red Badge of Courage." + +The blue haze of evening was upon the field. The lines of forest were +long purple shadows. One cloud lay along the western sky partly +smothering the red. + +As the youth left the scene behind him, he heard the guns +suddenly roar out. He imagined them shaking in black rage. +They belched and howled like brass devils guarding a gate. +The soft air was filled with the tremendous remonstrance. +With it came the shattering peal of opposing infantry. Turning to look +behind him, he could see sheets of orange light illumine the shadowy +distance. There were subtle and sudden lightnings in the far air. +At times he thought he could see heaving masses of men. + +He hurried on in the dusk. The day had faded until he could barely +distinguish place for his feet. The purple darkness was filled with men +who lectured and jabbered. Sometimes he could see them gesticulating +against the blue and somber sky. There seemed to be a great ruck of men +and munitions spread about in the forest and in the fields. . . + +His thoughts as he walked fixed intently upon his hurt. There was a +cool, liquid feeling about it and he imagined blood moving +slowly down under his hair. His head seemed swollen to a size that made +him think his neck to be inadequate. + +The new silence of his wound made much worriment. The little blistering +voices of pain that had called out from his scalp were, he thought, +definite in their expression of danger. By them he believed that he could +measure his plight. But when they remained ominously silent he became +frightened and imagined terrible fingers that clutched into his brain. + +Amid it he began to reflect upon various incidents and conditions of the +past. He bethought him of certain meals his mother had cooked at home, +in which those dishes of which he was particularly fond had occupied +prominent positions. He saw the spread table. The pine walls of +the kitchen were glowing in the warm light from the stove. +Too, he remembered how he and his companions used to go from the +school-house to the bank of a shaded pool. He saw his clothes in +disorderly array upon the grass of the bank. He felt the swash of the +fragrant water upon his body. The leaves of the overhanging maple +rustled with melody in the wind of youthful summer. + +Exercise. + +After reading this passage over a dozen times very slowly +and carefully, and copying it phrase by phrase, continue +the narrative in Crane's style through two more paragraphs, +bringing the story of this day's doing to some natural conclusion. + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE POWER OF SIMPLICITY: + +The Bible, Franklin, Lincoln. + +We have all heard that the simplest style is the strongest; and no doubt +most of us have wondered how this could be, as we turned over in our +minds examples of what seemed to us simplicity, comparing them with the +rhetorical, the lofty, and the sublime passages we could call to mind. + +Precisely this wonder was in the minds of a number of very well educated +people who gathered to attend the dedicatory exercises of the Gettysburg +monument, and Abraham Lincoln gave them one of the very finest +illustrations in the whole range of the world's history, of how +simplicity can be stronger than rhetoric. Edward Everett was the orator +of the day, and he delivered a most polished and brilliant oration. +When he sat down the friends of Lincoln regretted that this homely +countryman was to be asked to "say a few words," since they felt that +whatever he might say would be a decided anticlimax. The few words that +he did utter are the immortal "Gettysburg speech," by far the shortest +great oration on record. Edward Everett afterward remarked, +"I wish I could have produced in two hours the effect that Lincoln +produced in two minutes." The tremendous effect of that speech could +have been produced in no other way than by the power of simplicity, +which permits the compression of more thought into a few words than +any other style-form. All rhetoric is more or less windy. +The quality of a simple style is that in order to be anything at all it +must be solid metal all the way through. + +The Bible, the greatest literary production in the world as atheists and +Christians alike admit, is our supreme example of the wonderful power +of simplicity, and it more than any other one book has served to mould +the style of great writers. To take a purely literary passage, what could +be more affecting, yet more simple, than these words from Ecclesiastes? + +From "Ecclesiastes." + +Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while the evil days +come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no +pleasure in them; while the sun, or the light, or the moon, or the +stars, be not darkened, nor the clouds return after the rain: In the day +when the keepers of the house shall tremble, and the strong men shall +bow themselves, and the grinders cease because they are few, and those +that look out of the windows be darkened; and the doors shall be shut +in the streets, when the sound of the grinding is low, and he shall rise +up at the voice of the bird, and all the daughters of music shall be +brought low; also when they shall be afraid of that which is high, +and fears shall be in the way, and the almond tree shall flourish, and +the grasshoppers shall be a burden, and desire shall fail: because man +goeth to his long home, and the mourners go about the streets: +Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the +pitcher be broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern. +Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall +return unto God who gave it. + +This is the sort of barbaric poetry that man in his natural and original +state might be supposed to utter. It lacks the nice logic and fine +polish of Greek culture; indeed its grammar is somewhat confused. But +there is a higher logic than the logic of grammar, namely the logic of +life and suffering. The man who wrote this passage had put a year of +his existence into every phrase; and that is why it happens that we can +find here more phrases quoted by everybody than we can even in the best +passage of similar length in Shak{e}spe{a}re or any other modern writer. + +We see in proverbs how by the power of simplicity an enormous amount of +thought can be packed into a single line. Some of these have taken +thousands of years to grow; and because so much time is required in the +making of them, our facile modern writers never produce any. +Their fleeting epigrams appear to be spurious coin the moment they are +placed side by side with Franklin's epigrams, for instance. +Franklin worked his proverbs into the vacant spaces in his almanac +during a period of twenty-five years, and then collected all those +proverbs into a short paper entitled, "The Way to Wealth." +It may be added, also, that he did not even originate most of these +sayings, but only gave a new stamp to what he found in Hindu and Arabic +records. For all that, Poor Richard's Almanac is more likely to become +immortal than even Franklin's own name and fame. + +The history of Bacon's essays is another fine example of what simplicity +can effect in the way of greatness. These essays were originally +nothing more than single sentences jotted down in a notebook, probably +as an aid to conversation. How many times they were worked over we have +no means of knowing; but we have three printed editions of the essays, +each of which is immensely developed from what went before. + +In reading the following lines from Franklin, let us reflect that not +less than a year went to the writing of every phrase that can be called +great; and that if we could spend a year in writing a single sentence, +it might be as well worth preserving as these proverbs. +Some men have been made famous by one sentence, usually because it +somehow expressed the substance of a lifetime. + +From "Poor Richard's Almanac." + +Father Abraham stood up and replied, "If you would have my advice, +I will give it you in short; _for a word to the wise is enough, +and essay words won't fill a bushel,_ as POOR RICHARD says." + +They all joined him and desired him to speak his mind; +and gathering them around him, he proceeded as follows: + +Friends, says he, and neighbors! The taxes are indeed very heavy; +and if those laid on by the Government were the only ones we had to pay, +we might the more easily discharge them; but we have many others, +and much more grievous to some of us. We are taxed twice as much by our +idleness, three times as much by our Pride, and four times as much by +our Folly; and from these taxes the Commissioners cannot ease or deliver +us by allowing an abatement. However, let us hearken to good advice, +and something may be done for us, _God helps them that helps +themselves,_ as POOR RICHARD says in his _Almanac_ of 1733. + +It would be thought a hard government that should tax its people one +tenth part of their time, to be employed in its service. But idleness +taxes many of us much more; if we reckon all that is spent in absolute +sloth, or doing of nothing; with that which is spent in idle employments +or amusements that amounts to nothing. Sloth, by bringing on disease, +absolutely shortens life. Sloth, _like Rust, consumes faster than +Labor_ wean; while _the used keg is always bright,_ as POOR RICHARD +says. _But dost thou love Life? Then do_ not _squander time_! +for _that's the stuff Life is made of,_ as POOR RICHARD says. + +How much more time than is necessary do we spend in sleep? +forgetting that the _sleeping fox catches no poultry;_ and that _there +will be sleeping enough in the grave, as_ POOR RICHARD says. + +If Time be of all things the most precious, wasting _of Time must be_ +(as POOR RICHARD says) _the greatest prodigality;_ and since, as he +elsewhere tells us, _Lost time is never found again;_ and _what we_ call +Time enough! always proves little enough, let us then up and be doing, +and doing to the purpose: so, by diligence, shall we do more with less +perplexity. _Sloth makes all things difficult, but Industry all things +easy,_ as POOR RICHARD says: and _He_ that _riseth late, must trot all +day; and shall scarce overtake his business at night. While Laziness +travels so slowly, that Poverty soon over-takes him, as we read in_ POOR +RICHARD who adds, _Drive thy business! Let not that drive thee_! and + _Early to bad and early to rise, + Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise_. + +As Franklin extracted these sayings one by one out of the Arabic and +other sources, in each case giving the phrases a new turn, +and as Bacon jotted down in his notebook every witty word he heard, +so we will make reputations for ourselves if we are always picking up +the good things of others and using them whenever we can. + +THE GETTYSBURG SPEECH + +By Abraham Lincoln. + +Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this +continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the +proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a +great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived +and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield +of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a +final resting-place for those who here gave their lives that that nation +might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. + +But in a larger sense we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we +cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who +struggled here, have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or +detract. The world will little note, nor long remember, what we, +say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us, +the living, rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished work +which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. +It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining +before us,---that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to +that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion, +---that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in +vain,---that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of +freedom,---and that government of the people, by the people, +for the people, shall not perish from the earth. + + +CHAPTER XII. + +HARMONY OF STYLE: + +Irving and Hawthorne. + +A work of literary art is like a piece of music: one false note makes +a discord that spoils the effect of the whole. But it is useless to +give rules for writing an harmonious style. When one sits down to write +he should give his whole thought and energy to expressing himself +forcibly and with the vital glow of an overpowering interest. +An interesting thought expressed with force and suggestiveness is worth +volumes of commonplaces couched in the most faultless language. +The writer should never hesitate in choosing between perfectness of +language and vigor. On the first writing verbal perfection should be +sacrificed without a moment's hesitation. But when a story or essay has +once been written, the writer will turn his attention to those small +details of style. He must harmonize his language. He must polish. +It is one of the most tedious processes in literature, and to the novice +the most difficult on which to make a beginning. Yet there is nothing +more surely a matter of labor _and_ not of genius. It is for this that +one masters grammar and rhetoric, and studies the individual uses of +words. Carried to an extreme it is fatal to vitality of style. +But human nature is more often prone to shirk, and this is the thing +that is passed over from laziness. If you find one who declaims against +the utmost care in verbal polish, you will find a lazy man. + +The beginner, however, rarely knows how to set to work, and this chapter +is intended to give some practical hints. We assume that the student +knows perfectly well what good grammar is, as well as the leading +principles of rhetoric, and could easily correct his faults in these if +he should see them. There are several distinct classes of errors to +look for: faults of grammar, such as the mixing of modes and tenses, +and the agreement of verbs and particles in number when collective nouns +are referred to; faults of rhetoric, such as the mixing of figures of +speech; faults of taste, such as the use of words with a disagreeable +or misleading atmosphere about them, though their strict meaning makes +their use correct enough; faults of repetition of the same word in +differing senses in the same sentence or paragraph; faults of tediousness +of phrasing or explanation; faults of lack of clearness in expressing the +exact meaning; faults of sentimental use of language, that is, falling into +fine phrases which have no distinct meaning---the most discordant fault of +all; faults of digression in the structure of the composition. + +This list is comprehensive of the chief points to look for in verbal +revision. Faults of grammar need no explanation here. But we would +say, Beware. The most skilled writers are almost constantly falling +into errors of this kind, for they are the most subtle and elusive of +all, verbal failings. There is, indeed, but one certain way to be sure +that they are all removed, and that is by parsing every word by +grammatical formula it is a somewhat tedious method, but by practice one +may weigh each word with rapidity, and it is only by considering each +word alone that one may be sure that nothing is passed over. +In the same way each phrase or sentence, or figure of speech, +should be weighed separately, for its rhetorical accuracy. + +Faults of taste are detected by a much more delicate process than the +application of formula+e, but they almost invariably arise +(if ones native sense is keen) from the use of a word in a perfectly +legitimate and pure sense, when the public attaches to it an atmosphere +(let us call it) which is vulgar or disagreeable. In such cases the +word should be sacrificed, for the atmosphere of a word carries a +hundred times more weight with the common reader than the strict and +logical meaning. For instance, the word _mellow_ is applied to +over-ripe fruit, and to light of a peculiarly soft quality, if one is +writing for a class of people who are familiar with the poets, it is +proper enough to use the word in its poetic sense; but if the majority +of the readers of one's work always associate _mellow_ with over-ripe +fruit, to use it in its poetic sense would be disastrous. + +The repetition of the same word many times in succeeding phrases is a +figure of speech much used by certain recognized writers, and is a most +valuable one. Nor should one be afraid of repetition whenever clearness +makes it necessary. But the repetition of the same word in differing +senses in adjoining phrases is a fault to be strictly guarded against. +The writer was himself once guilty of perpetrating the following +abomination: "The _form_ which represented her, though idealized +somewhat, is an actual likeness elevated by the force of the sculptor's +love into a _form_ of surpassing beauty. It is her _form_ reclining on +a couch, only a soft, thin drapery covering her transparent _form,_ her +head slightly raised and turned to one side, and having concentrated in +its form and posture the height of the whole figure's beauty." Careful +examination will show that form, used five times in this paragraph, +has at least three very slightly differing meanings, a fact which +greatly adds to the objectionableness of the recurrence of the sound. + +A writer who has a high regard for accuracy and completeness of +expression is very liable to fall into tediousness in his explanations, +he realizes that he is tedious, but he asks, "How can I say what I have +to say without being tedious?" Tediousness means that what is said is +not worth saying at all, or that it can be said in fewer words. +The best method of condensation is the use of some pregnant phrase or +comparison which rapidly suggests the meaning without actually stating +it. The art of using suggestive phrases is the secret of condensation. + +But in the rapid telling of a story or description of a scene, perhaps +no fault is so surely fatal as a momentary lapse into meaningless fine +phrases, or sentimentality. In writing a vivid description the author +finds his pen moving even after he has finished putting down every +significant detail. He is not for the moment sure that he has finished, +and thinks that to complete the picture, to "round it up," a few general +phrases are necessary. But when he re-reads what he has written, +he sees that it fails, for some unknown reason, of the power of effect +on which he had counted. His glowing description seems tawdry, +or overwrought. He knows that it is not possible that the whole is bad: + +But where is the difficulty? + +Almost invariably the trouble will be found to be in some false phrase, +for one alone is enough to spoil a whole production. It is as if a +single flat or sharp note is introduced into a symphony, producing a +discord which rings through the mind during the whole performance. + +To detect the fault, go over the work with the utmost care, weighing +each item of the description, and asking the question, Is that an +absolutely necessary and true element of the picture I had in mind? +Nine times out of ten the writer will discover some sentence or phrase +which may be called a "glittering generality," or that is a weak +repetition of what has already been well said, or that is simply "fine" +language---sentimentality of some sort. Let him ruthlessly cut away +that paragraph, sentence, or phrase, and then re-read. It is almost +startling to observe how the removal or addition of a single phrase will +change the effect of a description covering many pages. + +But often a long composition will lack harmony of structure, +a fault very different from any we have mentioned, Hitherto we have +spoken of definite faults that must be cut out. It is as often +necessary to make additions. + +In the first place, each paragraph must be balanced within itself. +The language must be fluent and varied, and each thought or suggestion +must flow easily and smoothly into the next, unless abruptness is used +for a definite purpose. Likewise each successive stage of a description +or dialogue must have its relative as well as its intrinsic value. +The writer must study carefully the proportions of the parts, +and nicely adjust and harmonize each to the other. Every paragraph, +every sentence, every phrase and word, should have its own distinct and +clear meaning, and the writer should never allow himself to be in doubt +as to the need or value of this or that. + +To secure harmony of style and structure is a matter of personal +judgment and study. Though rules for it cannot be given, it will be +found to be a natural result of following all the principles of grammar, +rhetoric, and composition. But the hard work involved in securing this +proportion and harmony of structure can never be avoided or evaded without +disastrous consequences. Toil, toil, toil! That should be every writer's +motto if be aspires to success, even in the simplest forms of writing. + +The ambitious writer will not learn harmony of style from any single +short selection, however perfect such a composition may be in itself. +It requires persistent reading, as well as very thoughtful reading, +of the masters of perfect style. Two such masters are especially to be +recommended,---Irving and Hawthorne. And among their works, the best +for such study are "The Sketchbook," especially Rip Van Winkle and +Legend of Sleepy Hollow, by Irving, and "The Scarlet Letter" and such +short stories as "The Great Stone Face," by Hawthorne. To these may be +added Thackeray's "Vanity Fair," Scott's "Ivanhoe," and Lamb's "Essays +of Elia." These books should be read and re-read many times; and +whenever any composition is to be tested, it may conveniently be +compared as to style to some part of one or other of these books. + +In conclusion we would say that the study of too many masterpieces is +an error. It means that none of them are fully absorbed or mastered. +The selections here given,* together with the volumes recommended above, +may of course be judiciously supplemented if occasion requires; +but as a rule, these will be found ample. Each type should be studied +and mastered, one type after another. It would be a mistake to omit any +one, even if it is a type that does not particularly interest the +student, and is one he thinks he will never wish to use in its purity: +mastery of it will enrich any other style that may be chosen: +If it is found useful for shaping no more than a single sentence, it is +to be remembered that that sentence may shape the destinies of a life. + + *A fuller collection of the masterpieces of style than the present +volume contains may be found in "The Best English Essays," +edited by Sherwin Cody. + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +IMAGINATION AND REALITY.---THE AUDIENCE. + +So far we have given our attention to style, the effective use of words. + +We will now consider some of those general principles of thought end +expression which are essential to distinctively literary composition; +and first the relation between imagination and reality, or actuality. + +In real life a thousand currents cross each other, and counter cross, +and cross again. Life is a maze of endless continuity, to which, +nevertheless, we desire to find some key. Literature offers us a +picture of life to which there is a key, and by some analogy it suggests +explanations of real life. It is of far more value to be true to the +principles of life than to the outer facts. The outer facts are +fragmentary and uncertain, mere passing suggestions, signs in the +darkness. The principles of life are a clew of thread which may guide +the human judgment through many dark and difficult places. +It is to these that the artistic writer must be true. + +In the real incident the writer sees an idea which he thinks may +illustrate a principle he knows of. The observed fact must illustrate +the principle, but he must shape it to that end. A carver takes a block +of wood and sets out to make a vase. First he cuts away all the useless +parts: The writer should reject all the useless facts connected with his +story and reserve only what illustrates his idea. Often, however, the +carver finds his block of wood too small, or imperfect. Perfect blocks +of wood are rare, and so are perfect stories in real life. The carver +cuts out the imperfect part and fits in a new piece of wood. Perhaps +the whole base of his vase must be made of another piece and screwed on. + +It is quite usual that the whole setting of a story must come from +another source. One has observed life in a thousand different phases, +just as a carver has accumulated about him scores of different pieces +of wood varying in shape and size to suit almost any possible need. +When a carver makes a vase he takes one block for the main portion, +the starting point in his work, and builds up the rest from that. +The writer takes one real incident as the chief one, and perfects it +artistically by adding dozens of other incidents that he has observed. +The writer creates only in the sense that the wood carver creates his +vase. He does not create ideas cut of nothing, any more than the carver +creates the separate blocks of wood. The writer may coin his own soul +into substance for his stories, but creating out of one's mind and +creating out of nothing are two very different things. The writer +observes himself, notices how his mind works, how it behaves under given +circumstances, and that gives him material exactly the same in kind as +that which he gains from observing the working of other people's mind. + +But the carver in fashioning a vase thinks of the effect it will produce +when it is finished, on the mind of his customer or on the mind of any +person who appreciates beauty; and his whole end and aim is for this +result. He cuts out what he thinks will hinder, and puts in what he +thinks will help. He certainly does a great deal more than present +polished specimens of the various kinds of woods he has collected. +The creative writer---who intends to do something more than present +polished specimens of real life---must work on the same plan. +He must write for his realer, for his audience. + +But just what is it to write for an audience? The essential element in +it is some message a somebody. A message is of no value unless it is +to somebody be particular. Shouting messages into the air when you do +not know whether any one is at hand to hear would be equally foolish +whether a writer gave forth his message of inspiration in that way, or +a telegraph boy shouted his message in front of the telegraph off{i}ce +in the hope that the man to whom the message was addressed might be +passing, or that some of him friends might overhear it. + +The newspaper reporter goes to see a fire, finds out all about it, writes +it up, and sends it to his paper. The paper prints it for the readers, +who are anxious to know what the fire was and the damage it did. +The reporter does not write it up in the spirit of doing it for the +pleasure there is in nor does he allow himself to do it in the manner his +mood dictates. He writes so that certain people will get certain facts and +ideas. The facts he had nothing to do with creating, nor did he make the +desire of the people. He was simply a messenger, a purveyor. + +The producer of literature, we have said, must write for an audience; +but he does not go and hunt up his audience, find out its needs, and +then tell to it his story. He simple writes for the audience that he +knows, which others have prepared for him. To know human life, to know +what people really need, is work for a genius. It resembles the +building up of a daily paper, with its patronage and its study of the +public pulse. But the reporter has little or nothing to do with that. +Likewise the ordinary writer should not trouble himself about so large +a problem, at least until he has mastered the simpler ones. +Writing for an audience if one wants to get printed in a certain +magazine is writing those things which one finds by experience the +readers of that magazine, as represented in the editor, want to read. +Or one may write with his mind on those readers of the magazine whom he +knows personally. The essential point is that the effective writer must +cease to think of himself when he begins to write, and turn his mental +vision steadily upon the likes or needs of his possible readers, +selecting some definite reader in particular if need be. At any rate, +he must not write vaguely for people he does not know. If he please these +he does know, he may also please many he does not know. The best he can do +is to take the audience he thoroughly understands, though it be an audience +of one, and write for that audience something that will be of value, +in the way of amusement or information or inspiration. + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +THE USE OF MODELS IN WRITING FICTION. + +We have seen how a real incident is worked over into the fundamental +idea for a composition. The same principle ought to hold in the use of +real persons in making the characters in, a novel, or any story where +character-drawing is an important item. In a novel especially, +the characters must be drawn with the greatest care. They must be made +genuine personages. Yet the ill-taste of "putting your friends into a +story" is only less pronounced than the bad art or drawing characters +purely out of the imagination. There is no art in the slavish copying +of persons in real life. Yet it is practically impossible to create +genuine characters in the mind without reference to real life. +The simple solution would seem to be to follow the method of the painter +who uses models, though in so doing he does not make portraits. +There was a time in drawing when the school of "out-of-the-headers" +prevailed, but their work was often grotesque, imperfect, and sometimes +utterly futile in expressing even the idea the artist had in mind. +The opposite extreme in graphic art is photography. The rational use +of models is the happy mean between the two. But the good artist always +draws with his eye on the object, and the good writer should write with +his eye on a definite conception or some real thing or person, +from which he varies consciously and for artistic purpose. + +The ordinary observer sees first the peculiarities of a thing. +If he is looking at an old gentleman he sees a fly sitting upon the +bald spot on his head, a wart on his nose, his collar pulled up behind. +But the trained and artistic observer sees the peculiarly perfect +outline of the old man's features and form, and in the tottering, +gait bent shoulders, and soiled senility a straight, handsome youth, +fastidious in his dress and perfect in his form. Such the old man +was once, and all the elements of his broken youth are clearly visible +under the hapless veneer of time for the one who has an eye to see. +This is but one illustration of many that might be offered. +A poor shop girl may have the bearing of a princess. Among New York +illustrators the typical model for a society girl is a young woman of +the most ordinary birth and breeding, misfortunes which are clearly +visible in her personal appearance. But she has the bearing, the air of +the social queen, and to the artist she is that alone. He does not see +the veneer of circumstances, though the real society girl would see +nothing else in her humble artistic rival. + +In drawing characters the writer has a much larger range of models from +which to choose, in one sense. His models are the people he knows by +personal association day by day during various periods of his life, +from childhood up. Each person he has known has left an impression on +his mind, and that impression is the thing he considers. The art of +painting requires the actual presence in physical person of the model, +a limitation the writer fortunately does not have. At the same time, +the artist of the brush can seek new models and bring them into his +studio without taking too much time or greatly inconveniencing himself. +The writer can get new models only by changing his whole mode of life. +Travel is an excellent thing, yet practically it proves inadequate. +The fleeting impressions do not remain, and only what remains steadily +and permanently in the mind can be used as a model by the novelist. + +But during a lifetime one accumulates a large number of models simply +by habitually observing everything that comes in one's way. When the +writer takes up {the} pen to produce a story, he searches through his +mental collection for a suitable model. Sometimes it is necessary to +use several models in drawing the same character, one for this +characteristic, and another for that. But in writing the novelist +should have his eye on his model just as steadily and persistently as +the painter, for so alone can he catch the spirit and inner truth of +nature; and art. If it is anything, is the interpretation of nature. +The ideal character must be made the interpretation of the real one, +not a photographic copy, not idealization or glorification or +caricature, unless the idealization or glorification or caricature has +a definite value in the interpretation. + + +CHAPTER XV. + +CONTRAST. + +In all effective writing contrast is far more than a figure of speech: +it is an essential element in making strength. A work of literary art +without contrast may have all the elements of construction, style, and +originality of idea, but it will be weak, narrow, limp. The truth is, +contrast is the measure of the breadth of one's observation. We often +think of it as a figure of speech, a method of language which we use for +effect. A better view of it is as a measure of breadth. You have a +dark, wicked man on one side, and a fair, sunny, sweet woman on the +other. These are two extremes, a contrast, and they include all +between. If a writer understands these extremes he understands all +between, and if in a story he sets up one type against another he in a +way marks out those extremes as the boundaries of his intellectual +field, and he claims all within them. If the contrast is great, +he claims a great field; if feeble, then he has only a narrow field. + +Contrast and one's power of mastering it indicate one's breadth of +thought and especially the breadth of one's thinking in a particular +creative attempt. Every writer should strive for the greatest possible +breadth, for the greater his breadth the more people there are who will +be interested in his work. Narrow minds interest a few people, and +broad minds interest correspondingly many. The best way to cultivate +breadth is to cultivate the use of contrast in your writing. + +But to assume a breadth which one does not have, to pass from one +extreme to another without perfect mastery of all that lies between, +results in being ridiculous. It is like trying to extend the range of +the voice too far. One desires a voice with the greatest possible +range; but if in forcing the voice up one breaks into a falsetto, +the effect is disastrous. So in seeking range of character expression +one must be very careful not to break into a falsetto, while straining +the true voice to its utmost in order to extend its range. + +Let us now pass from the contrast of characters and situations of the +most general kind to contrasts of a more particular sort. Let us +consider the use of language first. Light conversation must not last +too long or it becomes monotonous, as we all know. But if the writer +can pass sometimes rapidly from tight conversation to serious narrative, +both the light dialogue and the serious seem the more expressive for the +contrast. The only thing to be considered is, can you do it with +perfect ease and grace? If you cannot, better let it alone. +Likewise, the long sentence may be used in one paragraph, +and a fine contrast shown by using very short sentences in the next. + +But let us distinguish between variety and contrast. +The writer may pass from long sentences to short ones when the reader +has tired of long ones, and _vice versa,_ he may pass from a tragic +character to a comic one in order to rest the mind of the reader. +In this there will be no very decided contrast. But when the two +extremes are brought close together, are forced together perhaps, +then we have an electric effect. To use contrast well requires great +skill in the handling of language, for contrast means passing from one +extreme to another in a very short space, and if this, passing is not +done gracefully, the whole effect is spoiled. + +What has been said of contrast in language, character, etc., +may also be applied to contrasts in any small detail, incident, +or even simile. Let us examine a few of the contrasts in Maupassant, +for he is a great adept in their use. + +Let us take the opening paragraph of "The Necklace" and see what a +marvel of contrast it is: "She was one of those pretty and charming +girls who are sometimes, as if by a mistake of destiny, born in a family +of clerks. She had no dowry, no expectations, no means of being known, +understood, loved, wedded, by any rich and distinguished man; and she +had let herself be married to a little clerk in the Ministry of Public +Instruction." Notice "pretty and charming"--- "family of clerks." +These two contrasted ideas (implied ideas, of course) are gracefully +linked by "as if by a mistake of destiny." Then the author goes on to +mention what the girl did not have in a way that implies that she ought +to have had all these things. She could not be wedded to "any rich and +distinguished man"; "she let herself be married to a little clerk." + +The whole of the following description of Madam Loisel is one mass of +clever contrasts of the things she might have been, wanted to be, with +what she was and had. A little farther on, however, we get a different +sort of contrast. Though poor, she has a rich friend. Then her husband +brings home an invitation at which he is perfectly delighted. +Immediately she is shown wretched, a striking contrast. He is shown +patient; she is irritated. She is selfish in wishing a dress and +finery; he is unselfish in giving up his gun and the shooting. + +With the ball the author gives us a description of Madam Loisel having +all she had dreamed of having. Her hopes are satisfied completely, +it appears, until suddenly, when she is about to go away, the fact of +her lack of wraps contrasts tellingly with her previous attractiveness. +These two little descriptions---one of the success of the ball, one of +hurrying away in shame, the wretched cab and all---are a most +forcible contrast, and most skilfully and naturally represented. +The previous happiness is further set into relief by the utter +wretchedness she experiences upon discovering the loss of the necklace. + +Then we have her new life of hard work, which we contrast in mind not only +with what she had really been having, but with that which she had dreamed +of having, had seemed about to realize, and had suddenly lost for ever. + +Then at last we have the contrast, elaborate, strongly drawn and +telling, between Madam Loisel after ten years and her friend, +who represents in flesh and blood what she might have been. +Then at the end comes the short, sharp contrast of paste and diamonds. + +In using contrast one does not have to search for something to set up +against something else. Every situation has a certain breadth, it has +two sides, whether they are far apart or near together. To give the +real effect of a conception it is necessary to pass from one side to the +other very rapidly and frequently, for only in so doing can one keep the +whole situation in mind. One must see the whole story, both sides and +all in between, at the same time. The more one sees at the same time, +the more of life one grasps and the more invigorating is the +composition. The use of contrast is eminently a matter of acquired +skill, and when one has become skilful he uses contrast unconsciously +and with the same effort that he makes his choice of words. + + + +APPENDIX + +Errors in the Use of Words. + +_All of_. Omit the _of_. + +_Aggravate_. Does not mean _provoke_ or _irritate_. + +_Among one another_. This phrase is illogical. + +_And who_. Omit the _and_ unless there is a preceding _who_ to which +this is an addition. + +_Another from_. Should be _another then_. + +_Anyhow,_ meaning _at any rate,_ is not to be used in literary composition. + +_Any place_. Incorrect for _anywhere_. + +_At_. We live _at_ a small place, _in_ a large one, and usually _arrive +at,_ not _in_. + +_Avocation_. Not to be confused with _vocation,_ a main calling, +since _avocation_ is a side calling. + +_Awful_ does not mean _very_. + +_Back out_. An Americanism for _withdraw_. + +_Balance_. Not proper for _remainder,_ but only for _that which makes +equal_. + +_Beginner_. Never say _new beginner_. + +_Beside; besides_. The first means _by the side of,_ the second _in +addition to_. + +_Be that as it will_. Say, _be that as it may_. + +_Blame on_. We may lay the _blame on,_ but we cannot _blame it on_ any +one. + +_But what_. Should be _but that_. + +_Calculate_. Do not use for _intend_. + +_Can_. Do not use for _may_. "_May_ I go with you?" not "_Can_ I go with +you?" + +_Clever_. Does not mean _good-natured,_ but _talented_. + +_Demean_. Means to _behave,_ not to _debase_ or _degrade_. + +_Disremember_. Now obsolete. + +_Don't_. Not to be used for _doesn't,_ after a singular subject such as +he. + +_Else_. Not follow by _but_; say, "nothing else _than_ pride." + +_Expect_. Do not use for _think,_ as in "I _expect_ it is so." + +_Fetch_. Means to _go and bring,_ hence _go and fetch_ is wrong. + +_Fix_. Not used for _arrange_ or the like, as "fix the furniture." + +_From_. Say, "He died of cholera," not _from_. + +_Got_. Properly you "have _got_" what you made an effort to get, +not what you merely "have." + +_Graduate_. Say, "The man _is graduated_ from college," +and "The college _graduates_ the man." + +_Had ought. Ought_ never requires any part of the verb _to have_. + +_Had rather, had better_. Disputed, but used by good writers. + +_Handy_. Does not mean near _by_. + +_In so far as_. Omit the _in_. + +_Kind of_. After these two words omit _a,_ and say, "What kind of man," +not "What kind of _a_ man." Also, do not say, "_kind_ of tired." + +_Lady_. Feminine for _lord,_ therefore do not speak of a "sales-lady," +"a man and his lady," etc. + +_Last; latter_. We say _latter_ of two, in preference to _last;_ +but _last_ of three. + +_Lay; lie_. We _lay_ a thing down, but we ourselves _lie_ down; we say, +"He laid the Bible on the table," but "He lay down on the couch;" +"The coat has been laid away," and "It has lain in the drawer." +_Lay, laid, laid_--takes an object; _lie, lay, lain_--does not. + +_Learn_. Never used as an active verb with an object, a in +"I _learned_ him his letters." We say, "He _learned_ his letters," +and "I _taught_ him his letters." + +_Learned_. "A _learned_ man"--pronounce _learn-ed_ with two syllables; +but "He has _learned_ his lesson"--one syllable. + +_Like_. Do not say, "Do _like_ I do." Use _as_ when a conjunction is +required. + +_Lives_. Do not say, "I had just as _lives_ as not," but "I had just as +_Lief_." + +_Lot_. Does not mean _many,_ as in "a _lot_ of men," but one _division,_ +as, "in that lot." + +_Lovely_. Do not overwork this word. A rose may be _lovely,_ but hardly +a plate of soup. + +_Mad_. We prefer to say _angry_ if we mean out _of temper_. + +_Mistaken_. Some critics insist that it is wrong to say "I am mistaken" +when we mean "I mistake." + +_Love_. We _like_ candy rather than _love_ it. Save Love for something +higher. + +_Most_. In writing, do not use _'most_ for _almost_. + +_Mutual friend_. Though Dickens used this expression in one of his +titles in the sense of common _friend,_ it is considered incorrect by +many critics. The proper meaning of _mutual_ is reciprocal. + +_Nothing Like_. Do not say, "Nothing _like_ as handsome." + +_Of all others_. Not proper after a superlative; as, "greatest of all +others," the meaning being "the greatest of all," or "great above all +others." + +_Only_. Be careful not to place this word so that its application will +be doubtful, as in "His mother only spoke to him," meaning "Only his +mother." + +_On to_. Not one word like _into_. Use it as you would on and to +together. + +_Orate_. Not good usage. + +_Plenty_. Say, "Fruit was plentiful," not "plenty." + +_Preventative_. Should be _preventive_. + +_Previous_. Say, "previously to," not "previous to." Also, do not say, +"He was too previous"--it is a pure vulgarism. + +_Providing_. Say, "_Provided_ he has money," not "Providing." + +_Propose_. Do not confuse with _purpose_. One proposes a plan, +but _purposes_ to do something, though it is also possible a _propose,_ +or make a proposition, to do something. + +_Quite_. Do not say, "Quite a way," or "Quite a good deal," but reserve +the word for such phrases as "Quite sure," "Quite to the edge," etc. + +_Raise; rise_. Never tell a person to "raise up," meaning +"raise himself up," but to "rise up." Also, do not speak of +"raising children," though we may "raise horses." + +_Scarcely_. Do not say, "I shall scarcely (hardly) finish before night," +though it is proper to use it of time, as in "I saw him scarcely an hour +ago." + +_Seldom or ever_. Incorrect for "seldom if ever." + +_Set; sit_. We _set_ the cup down, and sit down ourselves. +The hen _sits;_ the sun _sets_; a dress _sits_. + +_Sewerage; sewage_. The first means the system of sewers, +the second the waste matter. + +_Some_. Do not say, "I am _some_ tired," "I like it _some,_" etc. + +_Stop_. Say, "Stay in town," not "_Stop in town_." + +_Such another_. Say "another such." + +_They_. Do not refer to _any one,_ by _they, their,_ or _them;_ as in +"If any one wishes a cup of tea, they may get it in the next room." +Say, "If any one . . he may . . ." + +_Transpire_. Does not mean "occur," and hence we do not say +"Many events transpired that year." We may say, "It transpired that he +had been married a year." + +_Unique_. The word means _single, alone, the only one_ so we cannot say, +"very unique," or the like. + +_Very_. Say, "_very_ much pleased," not "_very_ pleased," +though the latter usage is sustained by some authorities. + +_Ways_. Say, "a long _way,_" not "a long _ways_." + +_Where_. A preposition of place is not required with where, +and it is considered incorrect to say, "Where is he gone to?" + +_Whole of_. Omit the _of_. + +_Without_. Do not say, "Without it rains," etc., in the sense of unless, +except. + +_Witness_. Do not say, "He witnessed a bull-fight"; reserve it for +"witnessing a signature," and the like. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Art Of Writing & Speaking The +English Language, by Sherwin Cody + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ART OF WRITING *** + +***** This file should be named 19719-8.txt or 19719-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/7/1/19719/ + +Produced by Andrew Hodson + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/19719-8.zip b/19719-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fd4fcce --- /dev/null +++ b/19719-8.zip diff --git a/19719.txt b/19719.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bbd5ced --- /dev/null +++ b/19719.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8633 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Art Of Writing & Speaking The English +Language, by Sherwin Cody + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Art Of Writing & Speaking The English Language + Word-Study and Composition & Rhetoric + +Author: Sherwin Cody + +Release Date: November 5, 2006 [EBook #19719] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ART OF WRITING *** + + + + +Produced by Andrew Hodson + + + + + +Transcriber's note: +Letters with an extra space before them show those that should be +removed & letters with { } around them show those added as there are +some mistakes in the book & because plain text is used. (I changed +mathematical & meter but it maybe that they are correct and the others +are wrong). I did not change _Shak{e}spe{a}re, mortgag eor_ & some +words in lists. (The N word should have a capital!) + +I've used superscript _a_ for broad _a_ (instead of 2 dots under it). +& superscripted _a_ & _o_ (Spanish ordinals) before _o_ for ligatures. +A long vowel should have a straight line over it but I've shown them by +using a colon : after them. Short vowels are shown by a grave accent +mark after instead of a curved line over the letter. An equals sign = +after a word shows that the next 1 should start the next column. +"Special SYSTEM Edition" brought from frontispiece. + + + + +THE ART _of_ WRITING & SPEAKING _The_ ENGLISH LANGUAGE + +SHERWIN CODY + +Special S Y S T E M Edition + +WORD-STUDY + +The Old Greek Press +_Chicago New{ }York Boston_ + +_Revised Edition_. + + +_Copyright,1903,_ + +BY SHERWIN CODY. + +Note. The thanks of the author are due to Dr. Edwin H. Lewis, of the +Lewis Institute, Chicago, and to Prof. John F. Genung, Ph. D., of Amherst +College, for suggestions made after reading the proof of this series. + + + +CONTENTS. + +THE ART OF WRITING AND SPEAKING THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. + +GENERAL INTRODUCTION. 7 + + +WORD-STUDY + +INTRODUCTION---THE STUDY OF SPELLING + +CHAPTER I. LETTERS AND SOUNDS + {VOWELS + CONSONANTS + EXERCISES + THE DICTIONARY} + +CHAPTER II. WORD-BUILDING + {PREFIXES} + +CHAPTER III. WORD-BUILDING---Rules and Applications + {EXCEPTIONS} + +CHAPTER IV. PRONUNCIATION + +CHAPTER V. A SPELLING DRILL + + APPENDIX + + + +The Art of Writing and Speaking the English Language + +GENERAL INTRODUCTION + +If there is a subject of really universal interest and utility, +it is the art of writing and speaking one's own language effectively. +It is the basis of culture, as we all know; but it is infinitely more +than that: it is the basis of business. No salesman can sell anything +unless he can explain the merits of his goods in _effective_ English +(among our people), or can write an advertisement equally effective, +or present his ideas, and the facts, in a letter. Indeed, the way +we talk, and write letters, largely determines our success in life. + +Now it is well for us to face at once the counter-statement that the +most ignorant and uncultivated men often succeed best in business, and +that misspelled, ungrammatical advertisements have brought in millions +of dollars. It is an acknowledged fact that our business circulars +and letters are far inferior in correctness to those of Great Britain; +yet they are more effective in getting business. As far as spelling +is concerned, we know that some of the masters of literature have been +atrocious spellers and many suppose that when one can sin in such +company, sinning is, as we might say, a "beauty spot", a defect in +which we can even take pride. + +Let us examine the facts in the case more closely. First of all, +language is no more than a medium; it is like air to the creatures of +the land or water to fishes. If it is perfectly clear and pure, we do +not notice it any more than we notice pure air when the sun is shining +in a clear sky, or the taste of pure cool water when we drink a glass +on a hot day. Unless the sun is shining, there is no brightness; +unless the water is cool, there is no refreshment. The source of all +our joy in the landscape, of the luxuriance of fertile nature, +is the sun and not the air. Nature would be more prodigal in Mexico than +in Greenland, even if the air in Mexico were as full of soot and smoke as +the air of Pittsburg{h}, or loaded with the acid from a chemical factory. +So it is with language. Language is merely a medium for thoughts, +emotions, the intelligence of a finely wrought brain, and a good +mind will make far more out of a bad medium than a poor mind will +make out of the best. A great violinist will draw such music from +the cheapest violin that the world is astonished. However is that any +reason why the great violinist should choose to play on a poor violin; +or should one say nothing of the smoke nuisance in Chicago because +more light and heat penetrate its murky atmosphere than are to be found +in cities only a few miles farther north? The truth is, we must regard +the bad spelling nuisance, the bad grammar nuisance, the inartistic and +rambling language nuisance, precisely as we would the smoke nuisance, +the sewer-gas nuisance, the stock-yards' smell nuisance. Some dainty +people prefer pure air and correct language; but we now recognize that +purity is something more than an esthetic fad, that it is essential to our +health and well-being, and therefore it becomes a matter of universal +public interest, in language as well as in air. + +There is a general belief that while bad air may be a positive evil +influence, incorrect use of language is at most no more than a negative +evil: that while it may be a good thing to be correct, no special harm +is involved in being incorrect. Let us look into this point. + +While language as the medium of thought may be compared to air as +the medium of the sun's influence, in other respects it is like the +skin of the body; a scurvy skin shows bad blood within, and a scurvy +language shows inaccurate thought and a confused mind. And as a +disease once fixed on the skin reacts and poisons the blood in +turn as it has first been poisoned by the blood, so careless use of +language if indulged reacts on the mind to make it permanently and +increasingly careless, illogical, and inaccurate in its thinking. + +The ordinary person will probably not believe this, because he conceives +of good use of language as an accomplishment to be learned from books, +a prim system of genteel manners to be put on when occasion demands, +a sort of superficial education in the correct thing, or, as the boys +would say, "the proper caper." In this, however, he is mistaken. +Language which expresses the thought with strict logical accuracy is +correct language, and language which is sufficiently rich in its resources +to express thought fully, in all its lights and bearings, is effective +language. If the writer or speaker has a sufficient stock of words and +forms at his disposal, he has only to use them in a strictly logical way +and with sufficient fulness to be both correct and effective. If his mind +can always be trusted to work accurately, he need not know a word of +grammar except what he has imbibed unconsciously in getting his stock of +words and expressions. Formal grammar is purely for critical purposes. +It is no more than a standard measuring stick by which to try the +work that has been done and find out if it is imperfect at any point. +Of course constant correction of inaccuracies schools the mind and +puts it on its guard so that it will be more careful the next time +it attempts expression; but we cannot avoid the conclusion that if +the mind lacks material, lacks knowledge of the essential elements +of the language, it should go to the original source from which it got +its first supply, namely to reading and hearing that which is acknowledged +to be correct and sufficient---as the child learns from its mother. +All the scholastic and analytic grammar in the world will not +enrich the mind in language to any appreciable extent. + +And now we may consider another objector, who says, "I have studied +grammar for years and it has done me no good." In view of what has +just been said, we may easily concede that such is very likely to +have been the case. A measuring stick is of little value unless you +have something to measure. Language cannot be acquired, only tested, +by analysis, and grammar is an analytic, not a constructive science. + +We have compared bad use of language to a scurvy condition of the skin. +To cure the skin we must doctor the blood; and to improve the language +we should begin by teaching the mind to think. But that, you will say, +is a large undertaking. Yes, but after all it is the most direct and +effective way. All education should be in the nature of teaching +the mind to think, and the teaching of language consists in teaching +thinking in connection with word forms and expression through language. +The unfortunate thing is that teachers of language have failed +to go to the root of the trouble, and enormous effort has +counted for nothing, and besides has led to discouragement. + +The American people are noted for being hasty in all they do. +Their manufactures are quickly made and cheap. They have not +hitherto had time to secure that perfection in minute details which +constitutes "quality." The slow-going Europeans still excel in +nearly all fine and high-grade forms of manufacture---fine pottery, +fine carpets and rugs, fine cloth, fine bronze and other art wares. +In our language, too, we are hasty, and therefore imperfect. +Fine logical accuracy requires more time than we have had +to give to it, and we read the newspapers, which are very poor +models of language, instead of books, which should be far better. +Our standard of business letters is very low. It is rare to +find a letter of any length without one or more errors of language, +to say nothing of frequent errors in spelling made by ignorant +stenographers and not corrected by the business men who sign the letters. + +But a change is coming over us. We have suddenly taken to reading +books, and while they are not always the best books, they are better +than newspapers. And now a young business man feels that it is +distinctly to his advantage if he can dictate a thoroughly good +letter to his superior or to a well informed customer. Good letters +raise the tone of a business house, poor letters give the idea +that it is a cheapjack concern. In social life, well written letters, +like good conversational powers, bring friends and introduce the +writer into higher circles. A command of language is the index +of culture, and the uneducated man or woman who has become wealthy +or has gained any special success is eager to put on this wedding +garment of refinement. If he continues to regard a good command +of language as a wedding garment, he will probably fail in his effort; +but a few will discover the way to self-education and actively follow +it to its conclusion adding to their first success this new achievement. + +But we may even go farther. The right kind of language-teaching will also +give us power, a kind of eloquence, a skill in the use of words, which +will enable us to frame advertisements which will draw business, letters +which will win customers, and to speak in that elegant and forceful way so +effective in selling goods. When all advertisements are couched in very +imperfect language, and all business letters are carelessly written, of +course no one has an advantage over another, and a good knowledge and +command of language would not be much of a recommendation to a business +man who wants a good assistant. But when a few have come in and by their +superior command of language gained a distinct advantage over rivals, then +the power inherent in language comes into universal demand--the business +standard is raised. There are many signs now that the business standard +in the use of language is being distinctly raised. Already a stenographer +who does not make errors commands a salary from 25 per cent. to 50 per +cent. higher than the average, and is always in demand. Advertisement +writers must have not only business instinct but language instinct, +and knowledge of correct, as well as forceful, expression{.} + +Granted, then, that we are all eager to better our knowledge +of the English language, how shall we go about it? + +There are literally thousands of published books devoted to the study +and teaching of our language. In such a flood it would seem that we +should have no difficulty in obtaining good guides for our study. + +But what do we find? We find spelling-books filled with lists of words to +be memorized; we find grammars filled with names and definitions of all +the different forms which the language assumes; we find rhetorics filled +with the names of every device ever employed to give effectiveness to +language; we find books on literature filled with the names, dates of +birth and death, and lists of works, of every writer any one ever heard of: +and when we have learned all these names we are no better off than when we +started. It is true that in many of these books we may find prefaces +which say, "All other books err in clinging too closely to mere system, +to names; but we will break away and give you the real thing." But they +don't do it; they can't afford to be too radical, and so they merely modify +in a few details the same old system, the system of names. Yet it is a +great point gained when the necessity for a change is realized. + +How, then, shall we go about our mastery of the English language? + +Modern science has provided us a universal method by which we may study +and master any subject. As applied to an art, this method has proved +highly successful in the case of music. It has not been applied to +language because there was a well fixed method of language study in +existence long before modern science was even dreamed of, and that +ancient method has held on with wonderful tenacity. The great fault +with it is that it was invented to apply to languages entirely different +from our own. Latin grammar and Greek grammar were mechanical systems +of endings by which the relationships of words were indicated. +Of course the relationship of words was at bottom logical, but the +mechanical form was the chief thing to be learned. Our language depends +wholly (or very nearly so) on arrangement of words, and the key is the +logical relationship. A man who knows all the forms of the Latin or +Greek language can write it with substantial accuracy; but the man who +would master the English language must go deeper, he must master the +logic of sentence structure or word relations. We must begin our study +at just the opposite end from the Latin or Greek; but our teachers of +language have balked at a complete reversal of method, the power of +custom and time has been too strong, and in the matter of grammar we are +still the slaves of the ancient world. As for spelling, the +irregularities of our language seem to have driven us to one sole method, +memorizing: and to memorize every word in a language is an appalling +task. Our rhetoric we have inherited from the middle ages, from +scholiasts, refiners, and theological logicians, a race of men who got +their living by inventing distinctions and splitting hairs. The fact is, +prose has had a very low place in the literature of the world until +within a century; all that was worth saying was said in poetry, which the +rhetoricians were forced to leave severely alone, or in oratory, from +which all their rules were derived; and since written prose language +became a universal possession through the printing press and the +newspaper we have been too busy to invent a new rhetoric. + +Now, language is just as much a natural growth as trees or rocks or human +bodies, and it can have no more irregularities, even in the matter of +spelling, than these have. Science would laugh at the notion of +memorizing every individual form of rock. It seeks the fundamental laws, +it classifies and groups, and even if the number of classes or groups is +large, still they have a limit and can be mastered. Here we have a +solution of the spelling problem. In grammar we find seven fundamental +logical relationships, and when we have mastered these and their chief +modifications and combinations, we have the essence of grammar as truly +as if we knew the name for every possible combination which our seven +fundamental relationships might have. Since rhetoric is the art of +appealing to the emotions and intelligence of our hearers, we need to +know, not the names of all the different artifices which may be employed, +but the nature and laws of emotion and intelligence as they may be reached +through language; for if we know what we are hitting at, a little +practice will enable us to hit accurately; whereas if we knew the name of +every kind of blow, and yet were ignorant of the thing we were hitting at, +namely the intelligence and emotion of our fellow man, we would be forever +striking into the air,---striking cleverly perhaps, but ineffectively. + +Having got our bearings, we find before us a purely practical problem, +that of leading the student through the maze of a new science and teaching +him the skill of an old art, exemplified in a long line of masters. + +By way of preface we may say that the mastery of the English language +(or any language) is almost the task of a lifetime. A few easy lessons +will have no effect. We must form a habit of language study that will +grow upon us as we grow older, and little by little, but never by leaps, +shall we mount up to the full expression of all that is in us. + + +WORD-STUDY + +INTRODUCTION + +THE STUDY OF SPELLING. + +The mastery of English spelling is a serious under-taking. In the first +place, we must actually memorize from one to three thousand words which are +spelled in more or less irregular ways. The best that can be done with +these words is to classify them as much as possible and suggest methods of +association which will aid the memory. But after all, the drudgery of +memorizing must be gone through with. + +Again, those words called homonyms, which are pronounced alike but spelled +differently, can be studied only in connection with their meaning, since +the meaning and grammatical use in the sentence is our only key to their +form. So we have to go considerably beyond the mere mechanical association +of letters. + +Besides the two or three thousand common irregular words, the dictionary +contains something over two hundred thousand other words. Of course no one +of us can possibly have occasion to use all of those words; but at the same +time, every one of us may sooner or later have occasion to use any one of +them. As we cannot tell before hand what ones we shall need, we should be +prepared to write any or all of them upon occasion. Of course we may refer +to the dictionary; but this is not always, or indeed very often, possible. +It would obviously be of immense advantage to us if we could find a key to +the spelling of these numerous but infrequently used words. + +The first duty of the instructor in spelling should be to provide such +a key. We would suppose, off-hand, that the three hundred thousand +school-teachers in the United States would do this immediately and +without suggestion--certainly that the writers of school-books would. +But many things have stood in the way. It is only within a few years, +comparatively speaking, that our language has become at all fixed in its +spelling. Noah Webster did a great deal to establish principles, and +bring the spelling of as many words as possible to conform with these +principles and with such analogies as seemed fairly well established. +But other dictionary-makers have set up their ideas against his, +and we have a conflict of authorities. If for any reason one finds +himself spelling a word differently from the world about him, +he begins to say, "Well, that is the spelling given in Worcester, +or the Century, or the Standard, or the new Oxford." So the word +"authority" looms big on the horizon; and we think so much about +authority, and about different authorities, that we forget +to look for principles, as Mr. Webster would have us do. + +Another reason for neglecting rules and principles is that the lists of +exceptions are often so formidable that we get discouraged and exclaim, +"If nine tenths of the words I use every day are exceptions to the +rules, what is the use of the rules anyway!" Well, the words which +constitute that other tenth will aggregate in actual numbers far more +than the common words which form the chief part of everyday speech, +and as they are selected at random from a vastly larger number, +the only possible way to master them is by acquiring principles, +consciously or unconsciously, which will serve as a key to them. +Some people have the faculty of unconsciously formulating principles +from their everyday observations, but it is a slow process, +and many never acquire it unless it is taught them. + +The spelling problem is not to learn how to spell nine tenths of +our words correctly. Nearly all of us can and do accomplish that. +The good speller must spell nine hundred and ninety-nine one +thousandths of his word correctly, which is quite another matter. +Some of us go even one figure higher. + +Our first task is clearly to commit the common irregular words to memory. +How may we do that most easily? It is a huge task at best, but every +pound of life energy which we can save in doing it is so much gained for +higher efforts. We should strive to economize effort in this just as +the manufacturer tries to economize in the cost of making his goods. + +In this particular matter, it seems to the present writer that makers +of modern spelling-books have committed a great blunder in mixing +indiscriminately regular words with irregular, and common words with +uncommon. Clearly we should memorize first the words we use most often, +and then take up those which we use less frequently. But the +superintendent of the Evanston schools has reported that out of one +hundred first-reader words which he gave to his grammar classes as +a spelling test, some were misspelled by all but sixteen per cent{.} of +the pupils. And yet these same pupils were studying busily away on +_categories, concatenation,_ and _amphibious_. The spelling-book makers +feel that they must put hard words into their spellers. Their books are +little more than lists of words, and any one can make lists of common, easy +words. A spelling-book filled with common easy words would not seem to be +worth the price paid for it. Pupils and teachers must get their money's +worth, even if they never learn to spell. Of course the teachers are +expected to furnish drills themselves on the common, easy words; but +unfortunately they take their cue from the spelling-book, each day merely +assigning to the class the next page. They haven't time to select, and no +one could consistently expect them to do otherwise than as they do do. + +To meet this difficulty, the author of this book has prepared a version +of the story of Robinson Crusoe which contains a large proportion of +the common words which offer difficulty in spelling. Unluckily it +is not easy to produce classic English when one is writing under the +necessity of using a vocabulary previously selected. However, if we +concentrate our attention on the word-forms, we are not likely to be +much injured by the ungraceful sentence-forms. This story is not long, +but it should be dictated to every school class, beginning in the +fourth grade, until _every_ pupil can spell _every_ word correctly. +A high percentage is not enough, as in the case of some other studies. +Any pupil who misses a single word in any exercise should be marked zero. + +But even if one can spell correctly every word in this story, he may still +not be a good speller, for there are thousands of other words to be +spelled, many of which are not and never will be found in any +spelling-book. The chief object of a course of study in spelling is to +acquire two habits, the habit of observing articulate sounds, and the habit +of observing word-forms in reading. + +1. Train the Ear. Until the habit of observing articulate sounds +carefully has been acquired, the niceties of pronunciation are beyond +the student's reach, and equally the niceties of spelling are beyond his +reach, too. In ordinary speaking, many vowels and even some consonants +are slurred and obscured. If the ear is not trained to exactness, +this habit of slurring introduces many inaccuracies. Even in careful +speaking, many obscure sounds are so nearly alike that only a finely +trained ear can detect any difference. Who of us notices any +difference between _er_ in _pardoner_ and _or_ in _honor_? Careful +speakers do not pass over the latter syllable quite so hastily as over +the former, but only the most finely trained ear will detect any +difference even in the pronunciation of the most finely trained voice. + +In the lower grades in the schools the ear may be trained by giving +separate utterance to each sound in a given word, as f-r-e-n-d, _friend,_ +allowing each letter only its true value in the word. Still it may also be +obtained by requiring careful and distinct pronunciation in reading, not, +however, to the extent of exaggerating the value of obscure syllables, +or painfully accentuating syllables naturally obscure. + +Adults (but seldom children) may train the ear by reading poetry aloud, +always guarding against the sing-song style, but trying to harmonize +nicely the sense and the rhythm. A trained ear is absolutely necessary +to reading poetry well, and the constant reading aloud of poetry cannot +but afford an admirable exercise. + +For children, the use of diacritical marks has little or no value, until +the necessity arises for consulting the dictionary for pronunciation. +They are but a mechanical system, and the system we commonly use is so +devoid of permanence in its character that every dictionary has a different +system. The one most common in the schools is that introduced by Webster; +but if we would consult the Standard or the Century or the Oxford, we must +learn our system all over again. To the child, any system is a clog and a +hindrance, and quite useless in teaching him phonetic values, wherein the +voice of the teacher is the true medium. + +For older students, however, especially students at home, where no teacher +is available, phonetic writing by means of diacritical marks has great +value.* It is the only practicable way of representing the sounds of the +voice on paper. When the student writes phonetically he is obliged to +observe closely his own voice and the voices of others in ordinary speech, +and so his ear is trained. It also takes the place of the voice for +dictation in spelling tests by mail or through the medium of books. + + *There should be no more marks than there are sounds. When two vowels +have the same sound one should be written as a substitute for the other, +as we have done in this book. + +2. Train the Eye. No doubt the most effective way of learning spelling +is to train the eye carefully to observe the forms of the words we read +in newspapers and in books. If this habit is formed, and the habit of +general reading accompanies it, it is sufficient to make a nearly +perfect speller. The great question is, how to acquire it. + +Of course in order to read we are obliged to observe the forms of words +in a general way, and if this were all that is needed, we should all +be good spellers if we were able to read fluently. But it is not all. +The observation of the general form of a word is not the observation +that teaches spelling. We must have the habit of observing every +letter in every word, and this we are not likely to have unless +we give special attention to acquiring it. + +The "visualization" method of teaching spelling now in use in the +schools is along the line of training the eye to observe every letter +in a word. It is good so far as it goes; but it does not go very far. +The reason is that there is a limit to the powers of the memory, +especially in the observation of arbitrary combinations of letters. +What habits of visualization would enable the ordinary person to +glance at such a combination as the following and write it ten minutes +afterward with no aid but the single glance: _hwgufhtbizwskoplmne?_ +It would require some minutes' study to memorize such a combination, +because there is nothing to aid us but the sheer succession of forms. +The memory works by association. We build up a vast structure of +knowledge, and each new fact or form must be as securely attached +to this as the new wing of a building; and the more points at which +attachment can be formed the more easily is the addition made. + +The Mastery of Irregular Words. + +Here, then, we have the real reason for a long study of principles, +analogies, and classifications. They help us to remember. +If I come to the word _colonnade_ in reading, I observe at once that +the double _n_ is an irregularity. It catches my eye immediately. +"Ah!" I reflect almost in the fraction of a second as I read in +continuous flow, "here is another of those exceptions." Building on +what I already know perfectly well, I master this word with the very +slightest effort. If we can build up a system which will serve the +memory by way of association, so that the slight effort that can be +given in ordinary reading will serve to fix a word more or less fully, +we can soon acquire a marvellous power in the accurate spelling of words. + +Again: In a spelling-book before me I see lists of words ending in _ise, +ize,_ and _yse,_ all mixed together with no distinction. The arrangement +suggests memorizing every word in the language ending with either of these +terminations, and until we have memorized any particular word we have no +means of knowing what the termination is. If, however, we are taught that +_ize_ is the common ending, that _ise_ is the ending of only thirty-one +words, and _yse_ of only three or four, we reduce our task enormously and +aid the memory in acquiring the few exceptions. When we come to +_franchise_ in reading we reflect rapidly, "Another of those verbs in +_ise_!" or to _paralyse,_ "One of those very few verbs in _yse_!" We give +no thought whatever to all the verbs ending in _ize,_ and so save so much +energy for other acquirements. + +If we can say, "This is a violation of such and such a rule," or "This is a +strange irregularity," or "This belongs to the class of words which +substitutes _ea_ for the long sound of _e,_ or for the short sound of _e_." + +We have an association of the unknown with the known that is the most +powerful possible aid to the memory. The system may fail in and of itself, +but it more than serves its purpose thus indirectly in aiding the memory. + +We have not spoken of the association of word forms with sounds, +the grouping of the letters of words into syllables, and the aid that a +careful pronunciation gives the memory by way of association; for while +this is the most powerful aid of all, it does not need explanation. + +The Mastery of Regular Words. + +We have spoken of the mastery of irregular words, and in the last paragraph +but one we have referred to the aid which general principles give the +memory by way of association in acquiring the exceptions to the rules. +We will now consider the great class of words formed according to fixed +principles. + +Of course these laws and rules are little more than a string of +analogies which we observe in our study of the language. The language +was not and never will be built to fit these rules. The usage of the +people is the only authority. Even clear logic goes down before usage. +Languages grow like mushrooms, or lilies, or bears, or human bodies. +Like these they have occult and profound laws which we can never hope +to penetrate,---which are known only to the creator of all things +existent. But as in botany and zoology and physiology we may observe +and classify our observations, so we may observe a language, classify +our observations, and create an empirical science of word-formation. +Possibly in time it will become a science something more than empirical. + +The laws we are able at this time to state with much definiteness are few +(doubling consonants, dropping silent e's, changing y's to i's, accenting +the penultimate and antepenultimate syllables, lengthening and shortening +vowels). In addition we may classify exceptions, for the sole purpose of +aiding the memory. + +Ignorance of these principles and classifications, and knowledge of the +causes and sources of the irregularities, should be pronounced criminal +in a teacher; and failure to teach them, more than criminal in a +spelling-book. It is true that most spelling-books do give them in one +form or another, but invariably without due emphasis or special drill, +a lack which renders them worthless. Pupils and students should be +drilled upon them till they are as familiar as the multiplication table. + +We know how most persons stumble over the pronunciation of names in the +Bible and in classic authors. They are equally nonplussed when called +upon to write words with which they are no more familiar. They cannot +even pronounce simple English names like _Cody,_ which they call +"Coddy," in analogy with _body,_ because they do not know that in a word +of two syllables a single vowel followed by a single consonant is +regularly long when accented. At the same time they will spell the word +in all kinds of queer ways, which are in analogy only with exceptions, +not with regular formations. Unless a person knows what the regular +principles are, he cannot know how a word should regularly be spelled. +A strange word is spelled quite regularly nine times out of ten, and if +one does not know exactly how to spell a word, it is much more to his +credit to spell it in a regular way than in an irregular way. + +The truth is, the only possible key we can have to those thousands of +strange words and proper names which we meet only once or twice in a +lifetime, is the system of principles formulated by philologists, +if for no other reason, we should master it that we may come as near as +possible to spelling proper names correctly. + + +CHAPTER I. + +LETTERS AND SOUNDS. + +We must begin our study of the English language with the elementary +sounds and the letters which represent them. + +Name the first letter of the alphabet---_a_. The mouth is open and the +sound may be prolonged indefinitely. It is a full, clear sound, +an unobstructed vibration of the vocal chords. + +Now name the second letter of the alphabet---_b_. +You say _bee_ or _buh_. You cannot prolong the sound. In order to give +the real sound of _b_ you have to associate it with some other sound, +as that of _e_ or _u_. In other words, _b_ is in the nature of an +obstruction of sound, or a modification of sound, rather than a simple +elementary sound in itself. There is indeed a slight sound in the +throat, but it is a closed sound and cannot be prolonged. In the case +of _p,_ which is similar to _b,_ there is no sound from the throat. + +So we see that there are two classes of sounds (represented by two +classes of letters), those which are full and open tones from the vocal +chords, pronounced with the mouth open, and capable of being prolonged +indefinitely; and those which are in the nature of modifications of +these open sounds, pronounced with or without the help of the voice, +and incapable of being prolonged. The first class of sounds is called +vowel sounds, the second, consonant sounds. Of the twenty-six letters +of the alphabet, _a, e, i, o,_ and _u_ (sometimes _y_ and _w_) +represent vowel sounds and are called vowels; and the remainder +represent consonant sounds, and are called consonants. + +A syllable is an elementary sound, or a combination of elementary +sounds, which can be given easy and distinct utterance at one effort. +Any vowel may form a syllable by itself, but as we have seen that +a consonant must be united with a vowel for its perfect utterance, +it follows that every syllable must contain a vowel sound, even if +it also contains consonant sounds. With that vowel sound one or +more consonants may be united; but the ways in which consonants may +combine with a vowel to form a syllable are limited. In general we +may place any consonant before and any consonant after the vowel in +the same syllable: but _y_ for instance, can be given a consonant +sound only at the beginning of a syllable, as in _yet_; at the end +of a syllable _y_ becomes a vowel sound, as in _they_ or _only_. +In the syllable _twelfths_ we find seven consonant sounds; but if +these same letters were arranged in almost any other way they could +not be pronounced as one syllable---as for instance _wtelthfs_. + +A word consists of one or more syllables to which some definite +meaning is attached. + +The difficulties of spelling and pronunciation arise largely from the +fact that in English twenty-six letters must do duty for some forty-two +sounds, and even then several of the letters are unnecessary, as for +instance _c,_ which has either the sound of _s_ or of _k_; _x,_ which +has the sound either of _ks, gs,_ or _z_; _q,_ which in the combination +_qu_ has the sound of _kw_. All the vowels represent from two to seven +sounds each, and some of the consonants interchange with each other. + +The Sounds of the Vowels.---(1) Each of the vowels has what is called +a long sound and a short sound. It is important that these two sets +of sounds be fixed clearly in the mind, as several necessary rules +of spelling depend upon them. In studying the following table, +note that the long sound is marked by a s t r a i g h t l i n e + o v{colon : aft}er the letter, and the short sound by a + c u{g}r{a}ve {accent mark ` }. + +_Long Short_ + a:te a`t + ga:ve ma`n + na:me ba`g + + the:se pe`t + m:e te`n + (com)ple:te bre`d + + ki:te si`t + ri:ce mi`ll + li:me ri`p + + no:te no`t + ro:de ro`d + so:le To`m + + cu:re bu`t + cu:te ru`n + (a)bu:se cru`st + + scy:the (like)ly` + +If we observe the foregoing list of words we shall see that each of the +words containing a long vowel followed by a single consonant sound ends +in silent _e_. After the short vowels there is no silent _e_. +In each case in which we have the silent _e_ there is a single long +vowel followed by a single consonant, or two consonants combining to +form a single sound, as _th_ in _scythe_. Such words as _roll, toll,_ +etc., ending in double _l_ have no silent _e_ though the vowel is long; +and such words as _great, meet, pail,_ etc., in which two vowels +combine with the sound of one, take no silent _e_ at the end. +We shall consider these exceptions more fully later; but a _single long_ +vowel followed by a _single_ consonant _always_ takes silent _e_ at the +end. As carefully stated in this way, the rule has no exceptions. +The reverse, however, is not always true, for a few words containing +a short vowel followed by a single consonant do take silent _e_; +but there are very few of them. The principal are _have, give, +{_(I)_ }live, love, shove, dove, above;_ also _none, some, come,_ +and some words in three or more syllables, such as _domicile_. + +2. Beside the long and short sounds of the vowels there +are several other vowel sounds. + +A has two other distinct sounds: + + broad, like _aw,_ as in _all, talk,_ etc. + +ae Italian, like _ah,_ as in _far, father,_ etc. + +Double o has two sounds different from long or short _o_ alone: + +long o: as in _room, soon, mood,_ etc. + +short o`, as in _good, took, wood,_ etc. + +Ow has a sound of its own, as in _how, crowd, allow,_ etc.; +and _ou_ sometimes has the same sound, as in _loud, rout, bough,_ etc. + +(_Ow_ and _ou_ are also sometimes sounded like long _o,_ as in _own, +crow, pour,_ etc., and sometimes have still other sounds, +as _ou_ in _bought_). + +Oi and oy have a distinct sound of their own, as in _oil, toil, oyster, +void, boy, employ,_ etc. + +_Ow_ and _oi_ are called proper diphthongs, as the two vowels combine +to produce a sound different from either, while such combinations as +_ei, ea, ai,_ etc., are called improper diphthongs (or digraphs), +because they have the sound of one or other of the simple vowels. + +3. In the preceding paragraphs we have given all the distinct vowel +sounds of the language, though many of them are slightly modified in +certain combinations. But in many cases one vowel will be given the +sound of another vowel, and two or more vowels will combine with a +variety of sounds. These irregularities occur chiefly in a few hundred +common words, and cause the main difficulties of spelling the English +language. The following are the leading substitutes: + +ew with the sound of _u_ long, as in _few, chew,_ etc. (perhaps +this may be considered a proper diphthong); + +e (_e, e_) with the sound of _a_ long, as in _fete, abbe,_ and all +foreign words written with an accent, especially French words; + +i with the sound of _e_ long, as in _machine,_ and nearly all French and +other foreign words; + +o has the sound of double _o_ long in _tomb, womb, prove, move,_ etc., +and of double _o_ short in _wolf, women,_ etc.; + +o also has the sound of _u_ short in _above, love, some, done,_ etc.; + +u has the sound of double _o_ long after _r,_ as in _rude, rule_; + +it also has the sound of double _o_ short in _put, pull, bull, sure,_ +etc.; + +ea has the sound of _a_ long, as in _great_; of _e_ long, as in _heat_; of +_e_ short, as in _head_; of _a_ Italian (ah), as in _heart, hearth,_ etc.; + +ei has the sound of _e_ long, as in _receive_; of _a_ long, as in +_freight, weight_; sometimes of _i_ long, as in _either_ and _neither,_ +pronounced with either the sound of _e_ long or _i_ long, the latter +being the English usage; + +ie has the sound of _i_ long, as in _lie,_ and of _e_ long, +as in _belief,_ and of _i_ short, as in _sieve_; + +ai has the sound of _a_ long, as in _laid, bail, train,_ etc., +and of _a_ short, as in _plaid;_ + +ay has the sound of _a_ long, as in _play, betray, say,_ etc.; + +oa has the sound of _o_ long, as in _moan, foam, coarse,_ etc. + +There are also many peculiar and occasional substitutions of sounds as in +_any_ and _many_ (a as e), _women_ (o as i), _busy_ (u as i), +_said_ (ai as e), _people_ (eo as e:), _build_ (u as i), _gauge_ (au as +a:), +_what_ (a as o), etc. + +When any of these combinations are to be pronounced as separate vowels, +in two syllables, two dots should be placed over the second, as in _naive_. + +4. The chief modifications of the elementary sounds are the following: + +before _r_ each of the vowels _e, i, o, u,_ and _y_ has almost the same +sound (marked like the Spanish n) as in _her, birth, honor, burr,_ and +_myrtle; o_ before _r_ sometimes has the sound of _aw,_ as in _or, for,_ +etc.; + +in unaccented syllables, each of the long vowels has a slightly shortened +sound, as in f_a_tality, n_e_gotiate, int_o_nation, ref_u_tation, +indicated by a dot above the sign for the long sound; (in a few words, +such as d_i_gress, the sound is not shortened, however); + +long _a_ (a) is slightly modified in such words as _care, fare, bare,_ +etc., while _e_ has the same sound in words like _there, their,_ and +_where_; (New Englan{d} g people give _a_ the short sound in such words +as _care,_ etc., and pronounce _there_ and _where_ with the short sound +of _a,_ while _their_ is pronounced with the short sound of _e_: +this is not the best usage, however); + +in _pass, class, command, laugh,_ etc., we have a sound of a between +Italian _a_ and short _a_ (indicated by a single dot over the _a_), +though most Americans pronounce it as short, and most English give the +Italian sound: the correct pronunciation is between these two. + +The Sounds of the Consonants. We have already seen that there are two +classes of consonant sounds, those which have a voice sound, as _b,_ +called _sonant,_ and those which are mere breath sounds, like _p,_ +called _surds_ or aspirates. The chief difference between _b_ and _p_ +is that one has the voice sound and the other has not. Most of the +other consonants also stand in pairs. We may say that the sonant +consonant and its corresponding surd are the hard and soft forms of +the same sound. The following table contains also simple consonant +sounds represented by two letters: +_Sonant Surd_ + b p + d t + v f + g (hard) k + j ch + z s + th (in _thine_) th (in _thin_) + zh (or z as in _azure_) sh + w + y + l + m + n + r h + +If we go down this list from the top to the bottom, we see that _b_ is the +most closed sound, while _h_ is the most slight and open, and the others +are graded in between (though not precisely as arranged above). These +distinctions are important, because in making combinations of consonants in +the same syllable or in successive syllables we cannot pass abruptly from a +closed sound to an open sound, or the reverse, nor from a surd sound to a +sonant, or the reverse. _L, m, n,_ and _r_ are called liquids, and easily +combine with other consonants; and so do the sibilants (_s, z,_ etc.). +In the growth of the language, many changes have been made in letters to +secure harmony of sound (as changing _b_ to _p_ in _sub-port---support,_ +and _s,_ to _f_ in _differ_---from _dis_ and _fero_). Some combinations +are not possible of pronunciation, others are not natural or easy; and +hence the alterations. The student of the language must know how words are +built; and then when he comes to a strange word he can reconstruct it for +himself. While the short, common words may be irregular, the long, strange +words are almost always formed quite regularly. + +Most of the sonants have but one sound, and none of them has more than +three sounds. The most important variations are as follows: + +C and G have each a soft sound and a hard sound. +The soft sound of _c_ is the same as _s,_ and the hard sound the same +as _k_. The soft sound of _g_ is the same as _j,_ and the hard sound +is the true sound of _g_ as heard in _gone, bug, struggle_. + +Important Rule. _C_ and _G_ are soft before _e, i,_ and _y,_ +and hard before all the other vowels, before all the other consonants, +and at the end of words. + +The chief exceptions to this rule are a few common words in which _g_ +is hard before _e_ or _i_. They include---_give, get, gill, gimlet, +girl, gibberish, gelding, gerrymander, gewgaw, geyser, giddy, +gibbon, gift, gig, giggle, gild, gimp, gingham, gird, girt, +girth, eager,_ and _begin_. G is soft before a consonant in +_judgment{,} lodgment, acknowledgment,_ etc. Also in a few +words from foreign languages _c_ is soft before other vowels, +though in such cases it should always be written with a cedilla (c). + +N when marked n in words from the Spanish language is pronounced +_n-y_ (canon like _canyon_). + +Ng has a peculiar nasal sound of its own, as heard in the syllable _ing_. + +N alone also has the sound of _ng_ sometimes before _g_ and _k,_ as in +_angle, ankle, single,_ etc. (pronounced _ang-gle, ang-kle, sing-gle_). + +Ph has the sound of _f,_ as in prophet. + +Th has two sounds, a hard sound as in _the, than, bathe, scythe,_ etc., +and a soft sound as in _thin, kith, bath, Smith,_ etc. Contrast +_breathe_ and _breath, lath_ and _lathe_; and _bath_ and _baths, +lath_ and _laths,_ etc. + +S has two sounds, one its own sound, as in _sin, kiss, fist_ (the same as +_c_ in _lace, rice,_ etc.), and the sound of _z,_ as in _rise_ (contrast +with _rice_), _is, baths, men's,_ etc. + +X has two common sounds, one that of _ks_ as in _box, six,_ etc., and the +other the sound of _gs,_ as in _exact, exaggerate_ (by the way, the first +_g_ in this word is silent). At the beginning of a word _x_ has the sound +of _z_ as in _Xerxes_. + +Ch has three sounds, as heard first in _child,_ second in _machine,_ and +third in _character_. The first is peculiar to itself, the second is that +of _sh,_ and the third that of _k_. + +The sound of _sh_ is variously represented: + +by _sh{,}_ as in _share, shift, shirt,_ etc. + +by _ti,_ as in _condition, mention, sanction,_ etc. + +by _si,_ as in _tension, suspension, extension,_ etc. + +by _ci,_ as in _suspicion_. (Also, _crucifixion_.) + +The kindred sound of _zh_ is represented by _z_ as in _azure,_ +and _s_ as in _pleasure,_ and by some combinations. + +Y is always a consonant at the beginning of a word when followed by a +vowel, as in _yet, year, yell,_ etc.; but if followed by a consonant it +is a vowel, as in _Ypsilanti_. At the end of a word it is {al}ways a +vowel, as in all words ending in the syllable _ly_. + +Exercises. It is very important that the student should master the +sounds of the language and the symbols for them, or the diacritical +marks, for several reasons: + +First, because it is impossible to find out the true pronunciation of +a word from the dictionary unless one clearly understands the meaning +of the principal marks; + +Second, because one of the essentials in accurate pronunciation and good +spelling is the habit of analyzing the sounds which compose words, +and training the ear to detect slight variations; + +Third, because a thorough knowledge of the sounds and their natural +symbols is the first step toward a study of the principles governing +word formation, or spelling and pronunciation. + +For purposes of instruction through correspondence or by means of a +textbook, the diacritical marks representing distinct sounds of the +language afford a substitute for the voice in dictation and similar +exercises, and hence such work requires a mastery of what might at first +sight seem a purely mechanical and useless system. + +One of the best exercises for the mastery of this system is to open the +unabridged dictionary at any point and copy out lists of words, writing the +words as they ordinarily appear in one column, and in an adjoining column +the phonetic form of the word. When the list is complete, cover one column +and reproduce the other from an application of the principles that have +been learned. After a few days, reproduce the phonetic forms from the +words as ordinarily written, and again the ordinary word from the phonetic +form. Avoid memorizing as much as possible, but work solely by the +application of principles. Never write down a phonetic form without fully +understanding its meaning in every detail. A key to the various marks will +be found at the bottom of every page of the dictionary, and the student +should refer to this frequently. In the front part of the dictionary there +will also be found an explanation of all possible sounds that any letter +may have; and every sound that any letter may have may be indicated by a +peculiar mark, so that since several letters may represent the same sound +there are a variety of symbols for the same sound. For the purposes of +this book it has seemed best to offer only one symbol for each sound, and +that symbol the one most frequently used. For that reason the following +example will not correspond precisely with the forms given in the +dictionary, but a study of the differences will afford a valuable exercise. + +Illustration.* + + *In this exercise, vowels before r marked in webster with the double +curve used over the Spanish n, are left unmarked. Double o with the +short sound is also left unmarked. + + The first place that I can well remember was a large, + The` first pla:s tha`t I ka`n we`l re:me`mber wo`z a: laerj, + +pleasant meadow with a pond of clear water in it. Some +ple`s'nt me`do: with a: po`nd o`v kle:r wo`ter in it. Su`m + +shady trees leaned over it, and rushes and water-lilies +sha:di` tre:z le:nd o:ver i`t, a`nd ru`she:z a`nd wo`ter-li`li`z + +grew at the deep end. Over the hedge on one side we looked +gru: a`t the` de:p e`nd. Over the: he`j o`n wu`n si:d we: lookt + +into a plowed field, and on the other we looked over a +into: a: plowd fe:ld a`nd o`n the: o`ther we: lookt o:ver a: + +gate at our master's house, which stood by the roadside. +ga:t a`t owr ma`ster'z hows, hwich stood bi: the: ro:dsi:d. + +At the top of the meadow was a grove of fir-trees, +A`t the: to`p o`v the: me`do: wo`z a: gro:v o`v fir-tre:z, + +and at the bottom a running brook overhung by a steep bank. +and a`t the: bo`t'm a ru`ning brook o:verhu`ng bi: a: ste:p ba`nk. + + + Whilst I was young I lived upon my mother's milk, as I could + Hwi:lst I wo`z yu`ng I livd u`po`n mi: mu`ther'z milk, a`z I kood + +not eat grass. In the daytime I ran by her side, and at night +no`t e:t gra`s. In the: da:ti:m I ra`n bi: her si:d, a`nd a`t ni:t + +I lay down close by her. When it was hot we used to stand +I la: down klo:s bi: her. Hwe`n it wo`z ho`t we: u:zd to: sta`nd + +by the pond in the shade of the trees, and when it was cold +bi: the: po`nd in the: sha:d o`v the: tre:z a`nd hwe`n it wo`z ko:ld + +we had a nice, warm shed near the grove. +we: ha`d a: ni:s, wawrm she`d ne:r the: gro:v. + +Note. In Webster's dictionary letters which are unmarked have an +obscure sound often not unlike uh, or are silent, and letters printed +in italics are nearly elided, so very slight is the sound they have if +it can be said to exist at all. In the illustration above, all very +obscure sounds have been replaced by the apostrophe, while no distinction +has been made between short vowels in accented and unaccented syllables. + +Studies from the Dictionary. + +The following are taken from Webster's Dictionary: + +Ab-do`m'-i-nou`s: The _a_ in _ab_ is only a little shorter than _a_ in +_at,_ and the _i_ is short being unaccented, while the _o_ is silent, +the syllable having the sound nus as indicated by the mark over the _u_. + +Le`ss'_e_n, (le`s'n), le`s's_o_n, (le`s'sn), le`ss'er, le`s'sor: Each of +these words has two distinct syllables, though there is no recognizable +vowel sound in the last syllables of the first two. This eliding of the +vowel is shown by printing the _e_ and the _o_ of the final syllables +in italics. In the last two words the vowels of the final syllables are +not marked, but have nearly the sound they would have if marked in the +usual way for _e_ and _o_ before _r_. As the syllables are not accented +the vowel sound is slightly obscured. Or in _lessor_ has the sound of +the word _or_ (nearly), not the sound of _or_ in _honor,_ which will be +found re-spelled (o`n'ur). It will be noted that the double s is +divided in two of the words and not in the other two. In _lesser_ and +_lessen_ all possible stress is placed on the first syllables, +since the terminations have the least possible value in speaking; +but in _lesson_ and _lessor_ we put a little more stress on the final +syllables, due to the greater dignity of the letter _o,_ +and this draws over a part of the s sound. + +Hon'-ey-co:mb (hu`n'y-ko:m): The heavy{ second} hyphen indicates that +this is a compound word and the hyphen must always be written. +The hyphens printed lightly in the dictionary merely serve to separate +the syllables and show how a word may be divided at the end of a line. +The student will also note that the _o_ in _-comb_ has its full long +value instead of being slighted. This slight added stress on the _o_ +is the way we have in speaking of indicating that _-comb_ was once a +word by itself, with an accent of its own. + +Exercise. +Select other words from the dictionary, and analyse as we have done +above, giving some explanation for every peculiarity found in the +printing and marks. Continue this until there is no doubt or hesitation +in regard to the meaning of any mark that may be found. + + +CHAPTER II. + +WORD-BUILDING. + +English speaking peoples have been inclined to exaggerate the +irregularities of the English word-formation. The fact is, only a small +number of common words and roots are irregular in formation, while fully +nine tenths of all the words in the language are formed according to +regular principles, or are regularly derived from the small number of +irregular words. We use the irregular words so much more frequently +that they do indeed constitute the greater part of our speech, +but it is very necessary that we should master the regular principles +of word-building, since they give us a key to the less frequently used, +but far more numerous, class which fills the dictionary, teaching us +both the spelling of words of which we know the sound, and the +pronunciation of words which we meet for the first time in reading. + +Accent. In English, accent is an essential part of every word. +It is something of an art to learn to throw it on to any syllable we +choose, for unless we are able to do this we cannot get the true +pronunciation of a word from the dictionary and we are helpless when we +are called on to pronounce a word we have never heard. + +Perhaps the best way to learn the art of throwing accent is by +comparing words in which we are in the habit of shifting the +accent to one syllable or another according to the meaning, +as for instance the following: + + 1. Accent. + +a. What _ac'cent_ has this word? + +b. With what _accent'uation_ do you _accent'_ this word? + + 2. Concert. + +a. Did you go to the _con'cert_ last night? + +b. By _concert'ed_ action we can do anything. + + 3. Contrast. + +{a} b. What a _con'trast_ between the rich man and the poor man! + +b. _Contrast'_ good with bad, black with white, greatness with littleness. + + 4. Permit. + +a. I have a building_-per'mit_. + +b. My mother will not _permit'_ me to go. + + 5. Present. + +a. He received a beautiful Christmas _pres'ent_. + +b. She was _present'ed_ at court. + + 6. Prefix. + +a. Sub is a common _pre'fix_. + +b. _Prefix'_ sub to port and you get support. + + 7. Compound. + +a. He can _compound'_ medicine like a druggist. + +b. Nitroglycerine is a dangerous _com'pound_. + +As a further illustration, read the following stanza of poetry, +especially accenting the syllables as marked: + + Tell' me not' in mourn'ful num'bers, + "Life' is but' an emp'ty dream'!" + For' the soul' is dead' that slum'bers, + And' things are' not what' they seem'. + +This is called scanning, and all verse may be scanned in the same way. +It is an excellent drill in learning the art of throwing the stress of +the voice on any syllable that may be desired. + +Two Laws of Word-Formation. + +We are now prepared to consider the two great laws governing +word-formation. These are: + +1. Law: All vowels in combination with consonants are naturally short +unless the long sound is given by combination with other vowels, +by accent, or by position in the syllable with reference to consonants. + +2. Law: Words derived from other words by the addition of prefixes or +suffixes always retain the original form as far as possible. + +1. We are likely to suppose that the natural or original sound of a +vowel is the long sound, because that is the sound we give it when +naming it in the alphabet. If we will examine a number of words, +however, we shall soon see that in combination with consonants +all vowels have a tendency to a short or obscure pronunciation. +The sounds of the consonants are naturally obscure, and they +draw the vowels to a similar obscurity. + +Since such is the case, when a vowel is given its long sound there is +always a special reason for it. In the simple words _not, pin, her, +rip, rid, cut, met,_ we have the short sounds of the vowels; but if we +desire the long sounds we must add a silent _e,_ which is not pronounced +as _e,_ but has its sound value in the greater stress put upon the vowel +with which it is connected. By adding silent _e_ to the above words we +have _note, pine, here, ripe, ride, mete_. In each of these cases the +_e_ follows the consonant, though really combining with the vowel before +the consonant; but if we place the additional _e_ just after the first +_e_ in _met_ we have _meet,_ which is a word even more common than +_mete. E_ is the only vowel that may be placed after the consonant and +still combine with the vowel before it {while being silent}; but nearly +all the other vowels may be placed beside the vowel that would otherwise +be short in order to make it long, and sometimes this added vowel is +placed before as well as after the vowel to be lengthened. Thus we have +_boat, bait, beat, field, chief,_ etc. There are a very, very few +irregular words in which the vowel sound has been kept short in spite +of the added vowel, as for instance, _head, sieve,_ etc. It appears +that with certain consonants the long sound is especially difficult, +and so in the case of very common words the wear of common speech has +shortened the vowels in spite of original efforts to strengthen them. +This is peculiarly true of the consonant _v,_ and the combination _th,_ +and less so of _s_ and _z_. So in {(I)}_live, have, give, love, shove, +move,_ etc., the vowel sound is more or less obscured even in spite of +the silent _e,_ though in the less common words _alive, behave,_ etc., +the long sound strengthened by accent has not been lost. So as a rule +two silent vowels are now used to make the vowel before the _v_ long, +as in _leave, believe, receive, beeves, weave,_ etc. In the single word +_sieve_ the vowel remains short in spite of two silent vowels added to +strengthen it. Two vowels are also sometimes required to strengthen a +long vowel before _th,_ as in _breathe,_ though when the vowel itself +is a strong one, as _a_ in _bathe,_ the second vowel is not required, +and _o_ in _both_ is so easily increased in sound that the two +consonants alone are sufficient. It will be seen, therefore, that much +depends on the quality of the vowel. _A_ and _o_ are the strongest +vowels, _i_ the weakest (which accounts for sieve). After _s_ and _z_ +we must also have a silent _e_ in addition to the silent vowel with +which the sounded vowel is combined, as we may see in _cheese, increase, +freeze,_ etc. The added vowel in combination with the long vowel is not +always needed, however, as we may see in contrasting _raise_ and _rise_. + +Not only vowels but consonants may serve to lengthen vowel sounds, as +we see in _right, night, bright,_ and in _scold, roll,_ etc. Only _o_ +is capable of being lengthened by two simple consonants such as we have +in _scold_ and _roll_. In _calm_ and _ball,_ for instance, the _a_ has +one of its extra values rather than its long sound. The _gh_ is of +course a powerful combination. Once it was pronounced; but it became so +difficult that we have learned to give its value by dwelling a little on +the vowel sound. + +Another powerful means of lengthening a vowel is accent. When a vowel +receives the full force of the accent by coming at the end of an accented +syllable it is almost invariably made long. We see this in monosyllables +such as _he, no,_ etc. It is often necessary to strengthen by an +additional silent vowel, however, as in _tie, sue, view,_ etc., and _a_ has +a peculiarity in that when it comes at the end of a syllable alone it has +the sound of _ah,_ or _a_ Italian, rather than that of _a_ long, and we +have _pa, ma,_ etc., and for the long sound _y_ is added, as in _say, day, +ray. I_ has a great disinclination to appear at the end of a word, and so +is n usually changed to _y_ when such a position is necessary, or it takes +silent _e_ as indicated above; while this service on the part of _y_ is +reciprocated by _i_'s taking the place of _y_ inside a word, as may be +illustrated by _city_ and _cities_. + +When a vowel gets the _full force_ of the accent in a word of two or +more syllables it is bound to be long, as for instance the first _a_ in +_ma'di a_. Even the stress necessary to keep the vowel from running +into the next syllable will make it long, though the sound is somewhat +obscured, some other syllable receiving the chief accent, as the first +_a_ in _ma gi'cian_. In this last word _i_ seems to have the full +force of the accent, yet it is not long; and we note the same in such +words as _condi'tion,_ etc. The fact is, however, that _i_ being a +weak vowel easily runs into the consonant sound of the next syllable, +and if we note the sounds as we pronounce _condition_ we shall see that +the _sh_ sound represented by _ti_ blends with the _i_ and takes the +force of the accent. We cannot separate the _ti_ or _ci_ from the +following portion of the syllable, since if so separated they could not +have their _sh_ value; but in pronunciation this separation is made in +part and the _sh_ sound serves both for the syllable that precedes and +the syllable that follows. In a word like _di men'sion_ we find the _i_ +of the first syllable long even without the accent, since the accent on +_men_ attaches the _m_ so closely to it that it cannot in any way +relieve the _i_. So we see that in an accented syllable the consonant +before a short vowel, as well as the consonant following it, receives +part of the stress. This is especially noticeable in the word _ma +gi'cian_ as compared with _mag'ic_. In magic the syllable _ic_ is in +itself so complete that the _g_ is kept with the _a_ and takes the force +of the accent, leaving the _a_ short. In _magician_ the _g_ is drawn +away from the _a_ to help out the short _i_ followed by an _sh_ sound, +and the _a_ is lengthened even to altering the form of the simple word. +In the word _ma'gi an,_ again, we find _a_ long, the _g_ being needed to +help out the _i_. + +Since accent makes a vowel long if no consonant intervenes at the end +of a syllable, and as a single consonant following such a vowel in a +word of two syllables (though not in words of three or more) is likely +to be drawn into the syllable following, a single consonant following +a single short vowel must be doubled. If two or more consonants follow +the vowel, as in _masking, standing, wilting,_ the vowel even in an +accented syllable remains short. But in _pining_ with one _n_ following +the _i_ in the accented syllable, we know that the vowel must be long, +for if it were short the word would be written _pinning_. + +Universal Rule: _Monosyllables_ in which, a single vowel is followed by +a single consonant (except _v_ and _h_ never doubled) _double the final +consonant_ when a single syllable beginning with a vowel is added, +and _all words_ so ending double the final consonant on the addition of +a syllable beginning with a vowel _if the syllable containing the single +vowel_ followed by a single consonant _is to be accented_. + +Thus we have _can---canning, run---running, fun---funny, flat---flattish_; +and also _sin---sinned_ (for the _ed_ is counted a syllable though not +pronounced as such nowadays); _preferred,_ but _preference,_ since the +accent is thrown back from the syllable containing the single vowel +followed by a single consonant in the word _preference,_ though not in +_preferred_; and of course the vowel is not doubled in _murmured, wondered, +covered,_ etc. + +If, however, the accented syllable is followed by two or more syllables, +the tendency of accent is to shorten the vowel. Thus we have +_grammat'ical,_ etc., in which the short vowel in the accented syllable +is followed by a single consonant not doubled. The word _na'tion_ (with +a long a) becomes _na'tional_ (short _a_) when the addition of a syllable +throws the accent on to the antepenult. The vowel _u_ is never shortened +in this way, however, and we have _lu'bricate,_ not _lub'ricate_. +We also find such words as _no'tional_ (long _o_). While accented +syllables which are followed by two or more syllables seldom if ever double +the single consonant, in pronunciation we often find the vowel long if the +two syllables following contain short and weak vowels. Thus we have +_pe'riod_ (long _e_), _ma'niac_ (long _a_), and _o'rient'al_ (long _o_). + +In words of two syllables and other words in which the accent comes on +the next to the last syllable, a short vowel in an accented syllable +should logically always be followed by more than one consonant or a +double consonant. We find the double consonant in such words as +_summer, pretty, mammal,_ etc. Unfortunately, our second law, which +requires all derived words to preserve the form of the original root, +interferes with this principle very seriously in a large number +of English words. The roots are often derived from languages in +which this principle did not apply, or else these roots originally +had very different sound values from those they have with us. +So we have _body,_ with one _d,_ though we have _shoddy_ and _toddy_ +regularly formed with two _d_'s, and we have _finish, exhibit,_ etc.; +in _col'onnade_ the _n_ is doubled in a syllable that is not accented. + +The chief exception to the general principle is the entire class of +words ending in _ic,_ such as _colic, cynic, civic, antithetic, +peripatetic,_ etc. If the root is long, however, it will remain long +after the addition of the termination _ic,_ as _music_ (from _muse_), +_basic_ (from _base_), etc. + +But in the case of words which we form ourselves, we will find practically +no exceptions to the rule that a short vowel in a syllable _next_ to the +last _must_ be followed by a _double consonant_ when accented, while a +short vowel in a syllable _before_ the next to the last is _not_ followed +by a double consonant when the syllable is accented. + +2. Our second law tells us that the original form of a word or of its +root must be preserved as far as possible. Most of the words referred +to above in which single consonants are doubled or not doubled in +violation of the general rule are derived from the Latin, usually through +the French, and if we were familiar with those languages we should have a +key to their correct spelling. But even without such thorough knowledge, +we may learn a few of the methods of derivation in those languages, +especially the Latin, as well as the simpler methods in use in the English. + +Certain changes in the derived words are always made, as, for instance, the +dropping of the silent _e_ when a syllable beginning with a vowel is added. + +Rule. Silent _e_ at the end of a word is dropped whenever a syllable +beginning with a vowel is added. + +This rule is not quite universal, though nearly so. The silent _e_ is +always retained when the vowel at the beginning of the added syllable +would make a soft _c_ or _g_ hard, as in _serviceable, changeable,_ etc. +In _changing, chancing,_ etc., the _i_ of the added syllable is sufficient +to make the _c_ or _g_ retain its soft sound. In such words as _cringe_ +and _singe_ the silent _e_ is retained even before _i_ in order to avoid +confusing the words so formed with other words in which the _ng_ has a +nasal sound; thus we have _singeing_ to avoid confusion with _singing,_ +though we have _singed_ in which the _e_ is dropped before _ed_ because the +dropping of it causes no confusion. Formerly the silent _e_ was retained +in _moveable_; but now we write _movable,_ according to the rule. + +Of course when the added syllable begins with a consonant, the silent +_e_ is not dropped, since dropping it would have the effect of +shortening the preceding vowel by making it stand before two consonants. + +A few monosyllables ending in two vowels, one of which is silent _e,_ +are exceptions: _duly, truly_; also _wholly_. + +Also final _y_ is changed to _i_ when a syllable is added, unless that +added syllable begins with _i_ and two _i_'s would thus come together. +_I_ is a vowel never doubled. Th{u} is we have _citified,_ +but _citifying_. + +We have already seen that final consonants may be doubled under certain +circumstances when a syllable is added. + +These are nearly all the changes in spelling that are possible when +words are formed by adding syllables; but changes in pronunciation and +vowel values are often affected, as we have seen in _nation_ (_a_ long) +and _national_ (_a_ short). + +Prefixes. But words may be formed by prefixing syllables, or by combining +two or more words into one. Many of these formations were effected in the +Latin before the words were introduced into English; but we can study the +principles governing them and gain a key to the spelling of many English +words. + +In English we unite a preposition with a verb by placing it after the +verb and treating it as an adverb. Thus we have "breaking in," +"running over," etc. In Latin the preposition in such cases was +prefixed to the word; and there were particles used as prefixes which +were never used as prepositions. We should become familiar with the +principal Latin prefixes and always take them into account in the +spelling of English words. The principal Latin prefixes are: + +ab (abs)---from +ad---to +ante---before +bi (bis)---twice +circum (circu)---around +con---with +contra(counter)---against +de---down, from +dis---apart, not +ex---out of, away from +extra---beyond +in---in, into, on; _also_ not (another word) +inter---between= +non---not +ob---in front of, in the way of +per---through +post---after +pre---before +pro---for, forth +re---back or again +retro---backward +se---aside +semi---half +sub---under +super---above, over +trans---over, beyond +ultra---beyond +vice---instead of. + +Of these prefixes, those ending in a single consonant are likely to +change that consonant for euphony to the consonant beginning the word +to which the prefix is attached. Thus _ad_ drops the _d_ in _ascend,_ +becomes _ac_ in _accord, af_ in _affiliate, an_ in _annex, ap_ in +_appropriate, at_ in _attend; con_ becomes _com_ in _commotion,_ also +in _compunction_ and _compress, cor_ in _correspond, col_ in _collect, +co_ in _co-equal_; _dis_ becomes _dif_ in _differ_; _ex_ becomes _e_ in +_eject, ec_ in _eccentric, ef_ in _effect_; _in_ becomes _il_ in +_illuminate, im_ in _import, ir_ in _irreconcilable; ob_ becomes _op_ +in _oppress, oc_ in _occasion, of_ in _offend_; and _sub_ becomes _suc_ +in _succeed, sup_ in _support, suf_ in _suffix, sug_ in _suggest, +sus_ in _sustain_. The final consonant is changed to a consonant that +can be easily pronounced before the consonant with which the following +syllable begins. Following the rule that the root must be changed as +little as possible, it is always the prefix, not the root, +which is compelled to yield to the demands of euphony. + +A little reflection upon the derivation of words will thus often give +us a key to the spelling. For instance, suppose we are in doubt whether +_irredeemable_ has two _r_'s or only one: we now that _redeem_ is a +root, and therefore the _ir_ must be a prefix, and the two _r_'s are +accounted for,--- indeed are necessary in order to prevent our losing +sight of the derivation and meaning of the word. In the same way, we can +never be in doubt as to the two _m_'s in _commotion, commencement,_ etc. + +We have already noted the tendency of _y_ to become _i_ in the middle +of a word. The exceptional cases are chiefly derivatives from the +Greek, and a study of the Greek prefixes will often give us a hint in +regard to the spelling of words containing _y_. These prefixes, +given here in full for convenience, are: + +a (an)---without, not +amphi---both, around +ana---up, back, through= +anti---against, opposite +apo (ap)---from +cata---down + +dia---through +en (em)---in +epi (ep)---upon +hyper---over, excessive +hypo---under= +meta (met)---beyond, change +syn (sy, syl, sym)---with, together + +In Greek words also we will find _ph_ with the sound of _f_. +We know that _symmetrical, hypophosphite, metaphysics, emphasis,_ etc., +are Greek because of the key we find in the prefix, and we are thus +prepared for the _y_'s and _ph_'s. _F_ does not exist in the Greek +alphabet (except as ph) and so we shall never find it in words derived +from the Greek. + +The English prefixes are not so often useful in determining peculiar +spelling, but for completeness we give them here: + +a---at, in, on (ahead) +be---to make, by (benumb) +en (em)---in, on, to make (encircle, empower) +for---not, from (forbear) +fore---before (forewarn) +mis---wrong, wrongly (misstate) +out---beyond (outbreak) +over---above (overruling) +to---the, this (to-night) +un---not, opposite +act (unable, undeceive) +under---beneath (undermine) +with---against, from (withstand) + + +CHAPTER III. + +WORD-BUILDING---RULES AND APPLICATIONS. + +There are a few rules and applications of the principles of word-formation +which may be found fully treated in the chapter on "Orthography" at the +beginning of the dictionary, but which we present here very briefly, +together with a summary of principles already discussed. + +Rule 1. _F, l,_ and _s_ at the end of a monosyllable after a single +vowel are commonly doubled. The exceptions are the cases in which _s_ +forms the plural or possessive case of a noun, or third person singular +of the verb, and the following words: _clef, if, of, pal, sol, as, gas, +has, was, yes, gris, his, is, thus, us. L_ is not doubled at the end +of words of more than one syllable, as _parallel, willful,_ etc. + +Rule 2. No other consonants thus situated are doubled. Exceptions: +_ebb, add, odd, egg, inn, bunn, err, burr, purr, butt, fizz, fuzz, +buzz,_ and a few very uncommon words, for which see the chapter in the +dictionary above referred to. + +Rule 3. A consonant standing at the end of a word immediately after a +diphthong or double vowel is never doubled. The word _guess_ is only an +apparent exception, since _u_ does not form a combination with _e_ but +merely makes the _g_ hard. + +Rule 4. Monosyllables ending in the sound of _ic_ represented by _c_ +usually take _k_ after the _c_, as in _back, knock,_ etc. Exceptions: +_talc, zinc, roc, arc,_ and a few very uncommon words. Words of more +than one syllable ending in _ic_ or _iac_ do not take _k_ after the _c_ +(except _derrick_), as for example _elegiac, cubic, music,_ etc. +If the _c_ is preceded by any other vowel than _i_ or _ia, k_ is added +to the _c_, as in _barrack, hammock, wedlock_. Exceptions: +_almanac, havoc,_ and a very few uncommon words. + +Rule 5. To preserve the hard sound of _c_ when a syllable is added +which begins with _e, i,_ or _y, k_ is placed after final _c_, +as in _trafficking, zincky, colicky_. + +Rule 6. _X_ and _h_ are never doubled, _v_ and _j_ seldom. +_G_ with the soft sound cannot be doubled, because then the first _g_ +would be made hard. Example: _mag'ic. Q_ always appears with _u_ +following it, and here _u_ has the value of the consonant _w_ and in no +way combines or is counted with the vowel which may follow it. For +instance _squatting_ is written as if _squat_ contained but one vowel. + +Rule 7. In simple derivatives a single final consonant following a +single vowel in a syllable that receives an accent is doubled when +another syllable beginning with a vowel is added. + +Rule 8. When accent comes on a syllable standing next to the last, +it has a tendency to lengthen the vowel; but on syllables farther from +the end, the tendency is to shorten the vowel without doubling the +consonant. For example, _na'tion_ (_a_ long), but _na'tional_ +(_a_ short); _gram'mar,_ but _grammat'ical_. + +Rule 9. Silent _e_ at the end of a word is usually dropped +when a syllable beginning with a vowel is added. The chief +exceptions are words in which the silent _e_ is retained to +preserve the soft sound of _c_ or _g_. + +Rule 10. Plurals are regularly formed by adding _s_; but if the +word end in a sibilant sound (_sh, zh, z, s, j, ch, x_), the plural +is formed by adding _es,_ which is pronounced as a separate syllable. +If the word end{s} in a sibilant sound followed by silent _e,_ +that _e_ unites with the _s_ to form a separate syllable. +Examples: _seas, cans; boxes, churches, brushes; changes, services_. + +Rule 11. Final _y_ is regularly changed to _i_ when a syllable is +added. In plurals it is changed to _ies,_ except when preceded by a +vowel, when a simple _s_ is added without change of the _y_. +Examples: _clumsy, clumsily_; _city, cities_; _chimney, chimneys_. +We have _colloquies_ because _u_ after _q_ has the value of the +consonant _w_. There are a few exceptions to the above rule. When two +_i_'s would come together, the _y_ is not changed, as in _carrying_. + +Rule 12. Words ending, in a double consonant commonly retain the double +consonant in derivatives. The chief exception is _all,_ which drops one +_l,_ as in _almighty, already, although,_ etc. According to English +usage other words ending in double _l_ drop one _l_ in derivatives, +and we have _skilful_ (for _skillful_), _wilful_ (for _willful_), etc., +but Webster does not approve this custom. _Ful_ is an affix, +not the word _full_ in a compound. + + +EXCEPTIONS AND IRREGULARITIES. + +1. Though in the case of simple words ending in a double consonant the +derivatives usually retain the double consonant, _pontific_ and +_pontifical_ (from _pontiff_) are exceptions, and when three letters of +the same kind would come together, one is usually dropped, as in +_agreed_ (_agree_ plus _ed_), _illy_ (_ill_ plus _ly_), _belless,_ etc. +We may write _bell-less,_ etc., however, in the case of words in which +three _l_'s come together, separating the syllables by a hyphen. + +2. To prevent two _i_'s coming together, we change _i_ to _y_ in +_dying, tying, vying,_ etc., from _die, tie,_ and _vie_. + +3. Derivatives from _adjectives_ ending in _y_ do not change _y_ to +_i_, and we have _shyly, shyness, slyly,_ etc., though _drier_ and +_driest_ from _dry_ are used. The _y_ is not changed before _ship,_ +as in _secretaryship, ladyship,_ etc., nor in _babyhood_ and _ladykin_. + +4. We have already seen that _y_ is not changed in derivatives when it +is preceded by another vowel, as in the case of _joyful,_ etc.; +but we find exceptions to this principle in _daily, laid, paid, said, +saith, slain,_ and _staid_; and many write _gaily_ and _gaiety,_ +though Webster prefers _gayly_ and _gayety_. + +5. Nouns of one syllable ending in _o_ usually take a silent _e_ also, +as _toe, doe, shoe,_ etc, but other parts of speech do not take the _e,_ +as _do, to, so, no,_ and the like, and nouns of more than one syllable, +as _potato, tomato,_ etc., omit the _e_. Monosyllables ending in _oe_ +usually retain the silent _e_ in derivatives, and we have _shoeing, +toeing,_ etc. The commoner English nouns ending in _o_ also have the +peculiarity of forming the plural by adding _es_ instead of _s,_ and we +have _potatoes, tomatoes, heroes, echoes, cargoes, embargoes, mottoes_; +but nouns a trifle more foreign form their plurals regularly, as _solos, +zeros, pianos,_ etc. When a vowel precedes the _o,_ the plural is +always formed regularly. The third person singular of the verb _woo_ +is _wooes,_ of _do does,_ of _go goes,_ etc., in analogy with the +plurals of the nouns ending in _o_. + +6. The following are exceptions to the rule that silent _e_ is retained +in derivatives when the added syllable begins with a consonant: +_judgment, acknowledgment, lodgment, wholly, abridgment, wisdom,_ etc. + +7. Some nouns ending in _f_ or _fe_ change those terminations to _ve_ +in the plural, as _beef---beeves, leaf---leaves, knife---knives, +loaf---loaves, life---lives, wife---wives, thief---thieves, +wolf---wolves, self---selves, shelf---shelves, calf---calves, +half---halves, elf---elves, sheaf---sheaves_. We have _chief---chiefs_ +and _handkerchief---handkerchiefs,_ however, and the same is true of all +nouns ending in _f_ or _fe_ except those given above. + +8. A few nouns form their plurals by changing a single vowel, as +_man---men, woman---women, goose---geese, foot---feet, tooth---teeth,_ +etc. Compounds follow the rule of the simple form, but the plural of +_talisman_ is _talismans,_ of _German_ is _Germans,_ of _musselman_ is +_musselmans,_ because these are not compounds of _men_. + +9. A few plurals are formed by adding _en,_ as _brother---brethren, +child---children, ox---oxen_. + +10. _Brother, pea, die,_ and _penny_ have each two plurals, which +differ in meaning. _Brothers_ refers to male children of the same +parents, _brethren_ to members of a religious body or the like; +_peas_ is used when a definite number is mentioned, _pease_ when +bulk is referred to; _dies_ are instruments used for stamping, etc., +_dice_ cubical blocks used in games of chance; _pennies_ refer to a +given number of coins, _pence_ to an amount reckoned by the coins. +_Acquaintance_ is sometimes used in the plural for _acquaintances_ with +no difference of meaning. + +11. A few words are the same in the plural as in the singular, +as _sheep, deer, trout,_ etc. + +12. Some words derived from foreign languages retain the plurals of +those languages. For example: +datum---data +criterion---criteria +genus---genera +larva---larvae= +crisis---crises +matrix---matrices +focus---foci +monsieur---messieurs + +13. A few allow either a regular plural or the plural retained +from the foreign language: +formula---formulae or formulas +beau---beaux or beaus +index---indices or indexes +stratum---strata or stratums +bandit---banditti or bandits +cherub---cherubim or cherubs +seraph---seraphim or seraphs + +14. In very loose compounds in which a noun is followed by an adjective +or the like, the noun commonly takes the plural ending, as in +_courts-martial, sons-in-law, cousins-german_. When the adjective is +more closely joined, the plural ending must be placed at the end of the +entire word. Thus we have _cupfuls, handfuls,_ etc. + +Different Spellings for the same Sound. + +Perhaps the greatest difficulty in spelling English words arises from +the fact that words and syllables pronounced alike are often spelled +differently, and there is no rule to guide us in distinguishing. +In order to fix their spelling, in mind we should know what classes of +words are doubtful, and when we come to them constantly refer to the +dictionary. To try to master these except in the connections in which +we wish to use them the writer believes to be worse than folly. +By studying such words in pairs, confusion is very likely to be fixed +forever in the mind. Most spelling-books commit this error, and so are +responsible for a considerable amount of bad spelling, which their +method has actually introduced and instilled into the child's mind. + +Persons who read much are not likely to make these errors, since they +remember words by the form as it appeals to the eye, not by the sound +in which there is no distinction. The study of such words should +therefore be conducted chiefly while writing or reading, not orally. + +While we must memorize, one at a time as we come to them in reading or +writing, the words or syllables in which the same sound is represented +by different spellings, still we should know clearly what classes of +words to be on the lookout for. We will now consider some of the +classes of words in which a single syllable may be spelled in various ways. + + +Vowel Substitutions in Simple Words. + +ea for e` short or e obscure before r. + +already +bread +breakfast +breast +breadth +death +earth +dead +deaf +dread= +early +earn +earnest +earth +feather +head +health +heaven +heavy= +heard +lead +learn +leather +meadow +measure +pearl +pleasant +read= +search +sergeant +spread +steady +thread +threaten +tread +wealth +weather + +ee for e: long. + +agree +beef +breed +cheek +cheese +creek +creep +cheer +deer +deed +deep +feed= +feel +feet +fleece +green +heel +heed +indeed +keep +keel +keen +kneel +meek= +need +needle +peel +peep +queer +screen +seed +seen +sheet +sheep +sleep +sleeve= +sneeze +squeeze +street +speech +steeple +steet +sweep +sleet +teeth +weep +weed +week + +ea for e: long. + +appear +bead +beach +bean +beast +beat +beneath +breathe +cease +cheap +cheat +clean +clear +congeal +cream +crease +creature +dear +deal +dream +defeat= +each +ear +eager +easy +east +eaves +feast +fear +feat +grease +heap +hear +heat +increase +knead +lead +leaf +leak +lean +least +leave= +meat +meal +mean +neat +near +peas (pease) +peal +peace +peach +please +preach +reach +read +reap +rear +reason +repeat +scream= +seam +seat +season +seal +speak +steam +streak +stream +tea +team +tear +tease +teach +veal +weave +weak +wheat +wreath (wreathe) +year +yeast + +ai for a: long. + +afraid +aid +braid +brain +complain +daily +dairy +daisy +drain +dainty +explain +fail +fain= +gain +gait +gaiter +grain +hail +jail +laid +maid +mail +maim +nail +paid= +pail +paint +plain +prairie +praise +quail +rail +rain +raise +raisin +remain +sail= +saint +snail +sprain +stain +straight +strain +tail +train +vain +waist +wait +waive + +ai for i or e obscure. + +bargain captain certain curtain mountain + +oa for o: long. + +board +boat +cloak +coax +coal +coast +coarse= +float +foam +goat +gloam +groan +hoarse +load= +loan +loaf +oak +oar +oats +roast +road= +roam +shoal +soap +soar +throat +toad +toast + +ie for e: long. + +believe +chief= +fierce +grief= +niece +priest= +piece +thief + +ei for e long. + +neither receipt receive + +In _sieve, ie_ has the sound of _i_ short. + +In _eight, skein, neighbor, rein, reign, sleigh, vein, veil, weigh,_ +and _weight, ei_ has the sound of _a_ long. + +In _height, sleight,_ and a few other words _ei_ has the sound of _i_ long. + +In _great, break,_ and _steak ea_ has the sound of _a_ long; +in _heart_ and _hearth_ it has the sound of _a_ Italian, +and in _tear_ and _bear_ it has the sound of _a_ as in _care_. + +Silent Consonants etc. + +although +answer +bouquet +bridge +calf +calm +catch +castle +caught +chalk +climb +ditch +dumb +edge +folks +comb +daughter +debt +depot +forehead +gnaw +hatchet +hedge +hiccough= +hitch +honest +honor +hustle +island +itch +judge +judgment +knack +knead +kneel +knew +knife +knit +knuckle +knock +knot +know +knowledge +lamb +latch +laugh +limb +listen= +match +might +muscle +naughty +night +notch +numb +often +palm +pitcher +pitch +pledge +ridge +right +rough +scene +scratch +should +sigh +sketch +snatch +soften +stitch +switch= +sword +talk +though +through +thought +thumb +tough +twitch +thigh +walk +watch +whole +witch +would +write +written +wrapper +wring +wrong +wrung +wrote +wrestle +yacht + +Unusual Spellings. + +The following words have irregularities peculiar to themselves. + +ache +any +air +apron +among +again +aunt +against +biscuit +build +busy +business +bureau +because +carriage +coffee +collar +color +country +couple +cousin +cover +does +dose= +done +double +diamond +every +especially +February +flourish +flown +fourteen +forty +fruit +gauge +glue +gluey +guide +goes +handkerchief +honey +heifer +impatient +iron +juice +liar +lion= +liquor +marriage +mayor +many +melon +minute +money +necessary +ninety +ninth +nothing +nuisance +obey +ocean +once +onion +only +other +owe +owner +patient +people +pigeon +prayer= +pray +prepare +rogue +scheme +scholar +screw +shoe +shoulder +soldier +stomach +sugar +succeed +precede +proceed +procedure +suspicion +they +tongue +touch +trouble +wagon +were +where +wholly + +C with the sound of s. + +In the following words the sound of _s_ is represented by _c_ followed +by a vowel that makes this letter soft: + +city +face +ice +juice +lace +necessary +nuisance +once +pencil +police +policy +pace +race +rice +space +trace +twice +trice +thrice +nice +price +slice= +lice +spice +circus +citron +circumstance +centre +cent +cellar +certain +circle +concert +concern +cell +dunce +decide +December +dance +disgrace +exercise +excellent +except +force= +fleece +fierce +furnace +fence +grocer +grace +icicle +instance +innocent +indecent +decent +introduce +juice +justice +lettuce +medicine +mercy +niece +ounce +officer +patience +peace= +piece +place +principal +principle +parcel +produce +prejudice +trace +voice +receipt +recite +cite +sauce +saucer +sentence +scarcely +since +silence +service +crevice +novice + +Words ending in cal and cle. + +Words in _cal_ are nearly all derived from other words ending in _ic,_ +as _classical, cubical, clerical,_ etc. Words ending in _cle_ are +(as far as English is concerned) original words, as _cuticle, +miracle, manacle,_ etc. When in doubt, ask the question if, on +dropping the _al_ or _le,_ a complete word ending in _ic_ would be left. +If such a word is left, the ending is _al,_ if not, it is probably _le_. + +Er and re. + +Webster spells _theater, center, meter,_ etc., with the termination +_er,_ but most English writers prefer _re. Meter_ is more used to +denote a device for measuring (as a "gas meter"), _meter_ as the French +unit of length (in the "Metric system"). In words like _acre_ even +Webster retains _re_ because _er_ would make the _c_ (or _g_) soft. + +Words ending in er, ar, or. + +First, let it be said that in most words these three syllables +(_er, ar, or_), are pronounced very nearly if not exactly alike (except +a few legal terms in or, like _mort'gageor_), and we should not try to +give an essentially different sound to _ar_ or _or_* from that we give +to _er_. The ending _er_ is the regular one, and those words ending in +_ar_ or _or_ are very few in number. They constitute the exceptions. + + *While making no especial difference in the vocalization of these +syllables, careful speakers dwell on them a trifle longer than they do +on _er_. + +Common words ending in _ar_ with the sound of _er_: + +liar +collar +beggar +burglar +solar +cedar +jugular +scholar= +calendar +secular +dollar +grammar +tabular +poplar +pillar +sugar= +jocular +globular +mortar +lunar +vulgar +popular +insular +Templar= +ocular +muscular +nectar +similar +tubular +altar (for worship) +singular + +In some words we have the same syllable with the same sound in the next +to the last syllable, as in _solitary, preliminary, ordinary, +temporary_. etc. The syllable _ard_ with the sound of _erd_ is also +found, as in _standard, wizard, mustard, mallard,_ etc. + +Common words ending in _or_ with the sound of _er_: + +honor +valor +mayor +sculptor +prior +ardor +clamor +labor +tutor +warrior +razor +flavor +auditor +juror +favor +tumor +editor +vigor +actor +author +conductor +savior +visitor +elevator +parlor +ancestor +captor +creditor +victor= +error +proprietor +arbor +chancellor +debtor +doctor +instructor +successor +rigor +senator +suitor +traitor +donor +inventor +odor +conqueror +senior +tenor +tremor +bachelor +junior +oppressor +possessor +liquor +surveyor +vapor +governor +languor +professor= +spectator +competitor +candor +harbor +meteor +orator +rumor +splendor +elector +executor +factor +generator +impostor +innovator +investor +legislator +narrator +navigator +numerator +operator +originator +perpetrator +personator +predecessor +protector +prosecutor +projector +reflector +regulator= +sailor +senator +separator +solicitor +supervisor +survivor +tormentor +testator +transgressor +translator +divisor +director +dictator +denominator +creator +counsellor +councillor +administrator +aggressor +agitator +arbitrator +assessor +benefactor +collector +compositor +conspirator +constructor +contributor +tailor + +The _o_ and _a_ in such words as the above are retained in the English +spelling because they were found in the Latin roots from which the words +were derived. Some, though not all, of the above words in or are +usually spelled in England with our, as _splendour, saviour,_ etc., and +many books printed in this country for circulation in England retain +this spelling. See {end of a}p{pendix} .. + + +Words ending in able and ible. + +Another class of words in which we are often confused is those which end +in _able_ or _ible_. The great majority end in _able,_ but a few +derived from Latin words in _ibilis_ retain the _i_. A brief list of +common words ending in _ible_ is subjoined: + +compatible +compressible +convertible +forcible +enforcible +gullible +horrible +sensible +terrible +possible +visible= +perceptible +susceptible +audible +credible +combustible +eligible +intelligible +irascible +inexhaustible +reversible= +plausible +permissible +accessible +digestible +responsible +admissible +fallible +flexible +incorrigible +irresistible= +ostensible +tangible +contemptible +divisible +discernible +corruptible +edible +legible +indelible +indigestible + +Of course when a soft _g_ precedes the doubtful letter, as in _legible,_ +we are always certain that we should write _i,_ not _a_. All words formed +from plain English words add _able_. Those familiar with Latin will have +little difficulty in recognizing the _i_ as an essential part of the root. + +Words ending in ent and ant, and ence and ance. + +Another class of words concerning which we must also feel doubt is that +terminating in _ence_ and _ance,_ or _ant_ and _ent_. All these words +are from the Latin, and the difference in termination is usually due to +whether they come from verbs of the first conjugation or of other +conjugations. As there is no means of distinguishing, we must +continually refer to the dictionary till we have learned each one. +We present a brief list: + + ent +confident +belligerent +independent +transcendent +competent +insistent +consistent +convalescent +correspondent +corpulent +dependent +despondent +expedient +impertinent +inclement +insolvent +intermittent +prevalent +superintendent +recipient +proficient +efficient +eminent +excellent +fraudulent +latent +opulent +convenient +corpulent +descendent +different= + + ant +abundant +accountant +arrogant +assailant +assistant +attendant +clairvoyant +combatant +recreant +consonant +conversant +defendant +descendent +discordant +elegant +exorbitant +important +incessant +irrelevant +luxuriant +malignant +petulant +pleasant +poignant +reluctant +stagnant +triumphant +vagrant +warrant +attendant +repentant + +A few of these words may have either termination according to the +meaning, as _confident_ (adj.) and _confidant_ (noun). Usually the noun +ends in _ant,_ the adjective in _ent_. Some words ending in _ant_ are +used both as noun and as adjective, as _attendant_. The abstract nouns +in _ence_ or _ance_ correspond to the adjectives. But there are several +of which the adjective form does not appear in the above list: + + ence +abstinence +existence +innocence +diffidence +diligence +essence +indigence +negligence +obedience +occurrence +reverence +vehemence +residence +violence +reminiscence +intelligence +presence +prominence +prudence +reference +reverence +transference +turbulence +consequence +indolence +patience +beneficence +preference= + + ance +annoyance +cognizance +vengeance +compliance +conveyance +ignorance +grievance +fragrance +pittance +alliance +defiance +acquaintance +deliverance +appearance +accordance +countenance +sustenance +remittance +connivance +resistance +nuisance +utterance +variance +vigilance +maintenance +forbearance +temperance +repentance + +Vowels e and i before ous. + +The vowels _e_ and _i_ sometimes have the value of the consonant _y,_ +as _e_ in _righteous_. There is also no clear distinction in sound +between _eous_ and _ions_. The following lists are composed chiefly of +words in which the _e_ or the _i_ has its usual value.* In which words +does _e_ or _i_ have the consonant value of _y?_ + + eons +aqueous +gaseous +hideous +courteous +instantaneous +miscellaneous +simultaneous +spontaneous +righteous +gorgeous +nauseous +outrageous= + + ious. +copious +dubious +impious +delirious +impervious +amphibious +ceremonious +deleterious +supercilious +punctilious +religious +sacrilegious + +Notice that all the accented vowels except _i_ in antepenultimate +syllables are long before this termination. + +Words ending in ize, ise, and yse. + +In English we have a few verbs ending in _ise,_ though _ize_ is the +regular ending of most verbs of this class, at least according to the +American usage. In England _ise_ is often substituted for _ize_. +The following words derived through the French must always be written +with the termination _ise_: + +advertise +catechise +compromise +devise +divertise +exercise +misprise +supervise +advise +chastise= +criticise +disfranchise +emprise +exorcise +premise +surmise +affranchise +circumcise +demise +disguise= +enfranchise +franchise +reprise +surprise +apprise +comprise +despise +disenfranchise +enterprise +manumise + +A few words end in _yse_ (yze): _analyse, paralyse_. They are all words +from the Greek. + +Words ending in cious, sion, tion, etc. + +The common termination is _tious,_ but there are a few words ending in +_cious,_ among them the following: + +avaricious +pernicious +tenacious= +capricious +suspicious +precocious= +judicious +vicious +sagacious= +malicious +conscious + +The endings _tion_ and _sion_ are both common; _sion_ usually being the +termination of words originally ending in _d, de, ge, mit, rt, se,_ +and _so,_ as _extend---extension_. + +_Cion_ and _cian_ are found only in a few words, such as _suspicion, +physician_. Also, while _tial_ is most common by far, we have _cial,_ +as in _special, official,_ etc. + +Special words with c sounded like s. + +We have already given a list of simple words in which _c_ is used for +_s,_ but the following may be singled out because they are troublesome: + +acquiesce +paucity +reticence +vacillate +coincidence= +publicity +license +tenacity +crescent +prejudice= +scenery +condescend +effervesce +proboscis +scintillate= +oscillate +rescind +transcend + +Words with obscure Vowels. + +The following words are troublesome because some vowel, +usually in the next to the last syllable unaccented, +is so obscured that the pronunciation does not give us a key to it: + + a +almanac +apathy +avarice +cataract +citadel +dilatory +malady +ornament +palatable +propagate +salary +separate +extravagant= + + e +celebrate +desecrate +supplement +liquefy +petroleum +rarefy +skeleton +telescope +tragedy +gayety +lineal +renegade +secretary +deprecate +execrate +implement +maleable +promenade +recreate +stupefy +tenement +vegetate +academy +remedy +revenue +serenade= + + i +expiate +privilege +rarity +stupidity +verify +epitaph +retinue +nutriment +vestige +medicine +impediment +prodigy +serenity +terrify +edifice +orifice +sacrilege +specimen + +Words ending in cy and sy. + +_Cy_ is the common termination, but some words are troublesome because they +terminate in _sy. Prophecy_ is the noun, _prophesy_ the verb, +distinguished in pronunciation by the fact that the final _y_ in the verb +is long, in the noun it is short. The following are a few words in _sy_ +which deserve notice: + +controversy +ecstasy= +embassy +heresy= +hypocrisy +courtesy= +fantasy +________ + +The above lists are for reference and for review. No one, in school or +out, should attempt to memorize these words offhand. The only rational way +to learn them is by reference to the dictionary when one has occasion to +write them, and to observe them in reading. These two habits, the use of +the dictionary and observing the formation of words in reading, will prove +more effective in the mastery of words of this character than three times +the work applied in any other way. The usual result of the effort to +memorize in lists is confusion so instilled that it can never be +eradicated. + +By way of review it is often well to look over such lists as those +above, and common words which one is likely to use and which one feels +one ought to have mastered, may be checked with a pencil, and the +attention concentrated upon them for a few minutes. It will be well also +to compare such words as _stupefy_ and _stupidity, rarity_ and _rarefy_. + + +Homonyms. + +The infatuation of modern spelling-book makers has introduced the +present generation to a serious difficulty in spelling which was not +accounted great in olden times. The pupil now has forced upon him a +large number of groups of words pronounced alike but spelled differently. + +The peculiar trouble with these words is due to the confusion between +the two forms, and to increase this the writers of spelling-books have +insisted on placing the two forms side by side in black type or italic +so that the pupil may forever see those two forms dancing together before +his eyes whenever he has occasion to use one of them. The attempt is +made to distinguish them by definitions or use in sentences; but as the +mind is not governed by logical distinctions so much as by association, +the pupil is taught to associate each word with the word which may cause +him trouble, not especially with the meaning to which the word ought to +be so wedded that there can be no doubt or separation. + +These words should no doubt receive careful attention; but the +association of one with the other should never be suggested to the +pupil: it is time enough to distinguish the two when the pupil has +actually confused them. The effort should always be made to fix in the +pupil's mind from the beginning an association of each word with that +which will be a safe key at all times. Thus _hear_ may be associated +(should always be associated) with _ear, their_ (_theyr_) with _they, +here_ and _there_ with each other and with _where,_ etc. It will also +be found that in most cases one word is more familiar than the other, +as for instances _been_ and _bin_. We learn _been_ and never would +think of confusing it with _bin_ were we not actually taught to do so. +In such cases it is best to see that the common word is quite familiar; +then the less common word may be introduced, and nine chances out of ten +the pupil will not dream of confusion. In a few cases in which both +words are not very often used, and are equally common or uncommon, +as for instance _mantle_ and _mantel,_ distinction may prove useful as +a method of teaching, but generally it will be found best to drill upon +one of the words, finding some helpful association for it, until it is +thoroughly mastered; then the pupil will know that the other word is +spelled in the other way, and think no more about it. + +The following quotations contain words which need special drill. +This is best secured by writing ten or twenty sentences containing each +word, an effort being made to use the word in as many different ways and +connections as possible. Thus we may make sentences containing _there,_ +as follows: + +There, where his kind and gentle face looks down upon me, +I used to stand and gaze upon the marble form of Lincoln. + +Here and there we found a good picture. + +There was an awful crowd. + +I stopped there a few moments. + +Etc., etc. + + +Quotations. + +Heaven's _gate_ is shut to him who comes alone. ---_Whittier_. + +Many a _tale_ of former day +Shall wing the laughing hours away. ---_Byron_. + +Fair hands the broken grain shall sift, +And _knead_ its meal of gold. ---_Whittier_. + +They are slaves who fear to speak +For the fallen and the _weak. ---Lowell_. + +If any man hath ears to _hear,_ let him hear. +And he saith unto them, Take heed what ye _hear. ---Bible_. + +Hark! I _hear_ music on the zephyr's wing. ---_Shelley_. + +_Row,_ brothers, _row,_ the stream runs fast, +The rapids are near, and the daylight's past! ---_Moore_. + +Each boatman bending to his _oar,_ +With measured sweep the burden bore. ---_Scott_. + +The visions of my youth are past, +_Too_ bright, _too_ beautiful to last. ---_Bryant_. + +(We seldom err in the use of _to_ and _two_; but in how many different +ways may _too_ properly be used?) + +With kind words and kinder looks he _bade_ me go my way. + ---_Whittier_. +(The _a_ in _bade_ is short.) + +Then, as to greet the sunbeam's birth, +Rises the choral _hymn_ of earth. ---_Mrs. Hemans_. + +Come thou with me to the vineyards nigh, +And we'll pluck the grapes of the richest _dye. ---Mrs. Hemans_. + +If any one attempts to _haul_ down the American flag, shoot him on the +spot. ---_John A. Dix_. + +In all the trade of war, no _feat_ +Is nobler than a brave retreat. ---_Samuel Butler_. + +His form was bent, and his _gait_ was slow, +His long thin hair was white as snow. ---_George Arnold_. + +Green pastures she views in the midst of the dale, +Down which she so often has tripped with her _pail. + ---Wordsworth_. + +Like Aesop's fox when he had lost his _tail_, would have all his +fellow-foxes cut off theirs. ---_Robert Burton_. + +He that is thy friend indeed, +He will help thee in thy _need. ---Shakspere_. + +Flowery May, who from her green lap throws +The yellow cowslip, and the _pale_ primrose. ---_Milton_. + +What, keep a _week_ away? Seven days and seven nights? +Eight score and eight hours? ---_Shakspere_. + +Spring and Autumn _here_ +Danc'd hand in hand. ---_Milton_. + +Chasing the wild _deer,_ and following the _roe,_ +My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go. ---_Burns_. + +Th' allotted hour of daily sport is _o'er,_ +And Learning beckons from her temple's door? ---_Byron_. + +_To_ know, to esteem, to love, and then to part, +Makes up life's tale to many a feeling heart. ---_Coleridge_. + +Bad men excuse their faults, good men will leave them. + ---_Ben Jonson_. +He was a man, take _him_ for all in all, +I shall not look upon his like again. ---_Shakspere_. + +There will little learning _die_ then, +that day thou art hanged. ---_Shakspere_. + +Be merry all, be merry all, +With holly dress the festive _hall. ---W. R. Spencer_. + +When youth and pleasure meet, +To chase the glowing hours with flying _feet. ---Byron_. + +Quotations containing words in the following list may be found in +"Wheeler's Graded Studies in Great Authors: A Complete Speller," from +which the preceding quotations were taken. Use these words in sentences, +and if you are not sure of them, look them up in the dictionary, giving +especial attention to quotations containing them. + +ale +dear +rode +ore +blew +awl +thyme +new +ate +lief +cell +dew +sell +won +praise +high +prays +hie +be +inn +ail +road +rowed +by +blue +tier +so +all +two +time +knew +ate +leaf +one +due +sew +tear +buy +lone +hare +night +clime +sight +tolled +site +knights +maid +cede +beech +waste +bred +piece +sum +plum +e'er +cent +son +weight +tier +rein +weigh +heart +wood +paws +through +fur +fare +main +pare +beech +meet +wrest +led +bow +seen +earn +plate +wear +rote +peel +you +berry +flew +know +dough +groan +links +see +lye +bell= +great +aught +foul +mean +seam +moan +knot +rap +bee +wrap +not +loan +told +cite +hair +seed +night +knit +made +peace +in +waist +bread +climb +heard +sent +sun +some +air +tares +rain +way +wait +threw +fir +hart +pause +would +pear +fair +mane +lead +meat +rest +scent +bough +reign +scene +sail +bier +pray +right +toe +yew +sale +prey +rite +rough +tow +steal +done +bare +their +creek +soul +draught +four +base +beet +heel +but +steaks +coarse +choir +cord +chaste +boar +butt +stake +waive +choose +stayed +cast +maze +ween +hour +birth +horde +aisle +core= +rice +male +none +plane +pore +fete +poll +sweet +throe +borne +root +been +load +feign +forte +vein +kill +rime +shown +wrung +hew +ode +ere +wrote +wares +urn +plait +arc +bury +peal +doe +grown +flue +know +sea +lie +mete +lynx +bow +stare +belle +read +grate +ark +ought +slay +thrown +vain +bin +lode +fain +fort +fowl +mien +write +mown +sole +drafts +fore +bass +beat +seem +steel +dun +bear +there +creak +bore +ball +wave +chews +staid +caste +maize +heel +bawl +course +quire +chord +chased +tide +sword +mail +nun +plain +pour +fate +wean +hoard +berth= +isle +throne +vane +seize +sore +slight +freeze +knave +fane +reek +Rome +rye +style +flea +faint +peak +throw +bourn +route +soar +sleight +frieze +nave +reck +sere +wreak +roam +wry +flee +feint +pique +mite +seer +idle +pistol +flower +holy +serf +borough +capital +canvas +indict +martial +kernel +carat +bridle +lesson +council +collar +levy +accept +affect +deference +emigrant +prophesy +sculptor +plaintive +populous +ingenious +lineament +desert +extent +pillow +stile +descent +incite +pillar +device +patients +lightening +proceed +plaintiff +prophet +immigrant +fisher +difference +presents +effect +except +levee +choler +counsel +lessen +bridal +carrot +colonel +marshal +indite +assent +sleigh= +our +stair +capitol +alter +pearl +might +kiln +rhyme +shone +rung +hue +pier +strait +wreck +sear +Hugh +lyre +whorl +surge +purl +altar +cannon +ascent +principle +mantle +weather +barren +current +miner +cellar +mettle +pendent +advice +illusion +assay +felicity +genius +profit +statute +poplar +precede +lightning +patience +devise +disease +insight +dissent +decease +extant +dessert +ingenuous +liniment +stature +sculpture +fissure +facility +essay +allusion +advise +pendant +metal +seller +minor +complement +currant +baron +wether +mantel +principal +burrow +canon +surf +wholly +serge +whirl +liar +idyl +flour +pistil +idol +rise +rude +team +corps +peer +straight +teem +reed +beau +compliment + +The preceding list contains several pairs of words often confused with +each other though they are not pronounced exactly alike. + +Of course when confusion actually exists in a person's mind, a drill on +distinctions is valuable. But in very many cases no confusion exists, +and in such cases it is worse than unfortunate to introduce it to the +mind. In any case it is by far the better way to drill upon each word +separately, using it in sentences in as many different ways as possible; +and the more familiar of two words pronounced alike or nearly alike +should be taken up first. When that is fixed, passing attention may be +given to the less familiar; but it is a great error to give as much +attention to the word that will be little used as to the word which will +be used often. In the case of a few words such as _principle_ and +_principal, counsel_ and _council,_ confusion is inevitable, +and the method of distinction and contrast must be used; +but even in cases like this, the method of studying each word +exhaustively by itself will undoubtedly yield good results. + + +Division of Words into Syllables. + +In writing it is often necessary to break words at the ends of lines. +This can properly be done only between syllables, and this is the usage +in the United States for the most part, though in Great Britain words +are usually divided so as to show their etymological derivation. + +The following rules will show the general usage in this country: + +1. All common English prefixes and suffixes are kept undivided, even +if the pronunciation would seem to require division. Thus, _tion,_ and +similar endings, _ble, cions,_ etc., are never divided. The termination +_ed_ may be carried over to the next line even when it is not +pronounced, as in _scorn-ed,_ but this is objectionable and should be +avoided when possible. When a Latin or other foreign prefix appears in +English as an essential part of the root of the word, and the +pronunciation requires a different division from that which would +separate the original parts, the word is divided as pronounced, as +_pref'ace_ (because we pronounce the _e_ short), _prog'-ress,_ etc. +(The English divide thus: _pre-face, pro-gress_.) + +2. Otherwise, words are divided as pronounced, and the exact division +may be found in the dictionary. When a vowel is followed by a single +consonant and is short, the consonant stands with the syllable which +precedes it, especially if accented. Examples: _gram-mat'-ic-al, +math-e-mat'-ics_. (The people of Great Britain write these words +_gram-ma-ti-cal, ma-the-ma-ti -c{s} a l,_ etc.) + +3. Combinations of consonants forming digraphs are never divided. +Examples: ng, th, ph. + +4. Double consonants are divided. Examples: _Run-ning, drop-ped_ +(if absolutely necessary to divide this word), _sum-mer_. + +5. Two or more consonants, unless they are so united as to form +digraphs or fixed groups, are usually divided according to +pronunciation. Examples: _pen-sive, sin-gle_ (here the _n_ has the _ng_ +nasal sound, and the _g_ is connected with the _l_), _doc-tor, +con-ster-nation, ex-am.-ple, sub-st an-tive_. + +6. A vowel sounded long should as a rule close the syllable, except at +the end of a word. Examples: _na'-tion_ (we must also write +_na'-tion-al,_ because _tion_ cannot be divided), _di-men'-sion, +deter'min-ate, con-no-ta'-tion_. + +Miscellaneous examples: _ex-haust'-ive, pre-par'a-tive, +sen-si-bil'-i-ty, joc'-u-lar-y, pol-y-phon'-ic, op-po'-nent_. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +PRONUNCIATION. + +This chapter is designed to serve two practical objects: +First, to aid in the correction and improvement of the pronunciation of +everyday English; second, to give hints that will guide a reader to a +ready and substantially correct pronunciation of strange words and names +that may occasionally be met with. + +Accent. + +Let us first consider accent. We have already tried to indicate what +it is. We will now attempt to find out what principles govern it. + +Accent is very closely associated with rhythm. +It has already been stated that a reading of poetry will cultivate an +ear for accent. If every syllable or articulation of language received +exactly the same stress, or occupied exactly the same time in +pronunciation, speech would have an intolerable monotony, and it would +be impossible to give it what is called "expression." Expression is so +important a part of language that the arts of the orator, the actor, and +the preacher depend directly upon it. It doubles the value of words. + +The foundation of expression is rhythm, or regular succession of stress +and easy gliding over syllables. In Latin it was a matter of +"quantity," or long and short vowels. In English it is a mixture of +"quantity" (or length and shortness of vowels) and special stress given +by the speaker to bring out the meaning as well as to please the ear. +Hence English has a range and power that Latin could never have had. + +In poetry, accent, quantity, and rhythm are exaggerated according to an +artificial plan; but the same principles govern all speech in a greater +or less degree, and even the pronunciation of every word of two +syllables or more. The fundamental element is "time" as we know it in +music. In music every bar has just so much time allotted to it, +but that time may be variously divided up between different notes. +Thus, suppose the bar is based on the time required for one full note. +We may have in place of one full note two half notes or four quarter +notes, or a half note lengthened by half and followed by two eight +notes, or two quarter notes followed by a half note, and so on. +The total time remains the same, but it may be variously divided, +though not without reference to the way in which other bars in the same +piece of music are divided. + +We will drop music and continue our illustration by reference to English +poetry. In trochaic meter we have an accented syllable followed by an +unaccented, and in dactylic we have an accented syllable followed by two +unaccented syllables, as for instance in the following: + +Trochaic--- + "In' his cham'ber, weak' and dy'ing, + Was' the Nor'man bar'on ly'ing." + +Dactylic-- + "This' is the for'est prime'val. + The mur'muring pines' and the hem'locks . . . + Stand' like Dru'ids of eld'." + +Or in the iambic we have an unaccented syllable followed by an accented, +as in-- + "It was' the schoo'ner Hes'perus' + That sai'led the win'try sea'." + +But if two syllables are so short that they can be uttered in the same +time as one, two syllables will satisfy the meter just as well as one. +Thus we have the following, in the same general met{r}e r as the +foregoing quotation: + "I stood' on the bridge' at mid'night, + As the clocks' were stri'king the hour'." + +It is all a matter of time. If we were to place a syllable that +required a long time for utterance in a place where only a short time +could be given to it, we should seriously break the rhythmic flow; +and all the pauses indicated by punctuation marks are taken into +account, in the same way that rests are counted in music. The natural +pause at the end of a line of poetry often occupies the time of an +entire syllable, and we have a rational explanation of what has been +called without explanation "catalectic" and "acatalectic" lines. + +The same principles govern the accenting of single words in a very large +degree, and must be taken into account in reading prose aloud. + +The general tendency of the English language is to throw the accent +toward the beginning of a word, just as in French the tendency is to +throw it toward the end. Words of two and three syllables are regularly +accented on the first syllable; but if the second syllable is stronger +than the first, it will get the accent. Thus we have _sum'mer, ar'gue, +pres'ent,_ etc.; but _agree', resolve', retain',_ etc.* We have +indicated above a natural reason why it cannot fail in the cases +mentioned. The voice would be incapable of accenting easily the +unimportant prefix in such a word as _ac-cuse',_ for instance. + +Sometimes the strength of both syllables in words of two syllables is +equal, and then the accent may be placed on either at will, as in the +case of _re'tail,_ and _retail', pro'ceed_ and _proceed',_ etc. +There are about sixty of these words capable of being differently +accented according to meaning. The verb usually takes the accent on the +last syllable. In words in which it seems desirable on account of the +meaning to accent the first syllable when the second syllable is +naturally stronger, that second syllable is deliberately shortened in +the pronunciation, as in _moun'tain, cur'tain,_ etc., in which the last +syllable has the value of _tin_. + + *In the chapter at the beginning of Webster's dictionary devoted to +accent it is stated that these words are accented on the last syllable +because by derivation the root rather than the prefix receives the +accent. This "great principle of derivation" often fails, it is +admitted. We have indicated above a natural reason why it cannot +fail in the cases mentioned. The voice would be incapable of accenting +easily the unimportant prefix in such a word as _ac-cuse',_ for instance. + +In words of three syllables, the accent is usually on the first syllable, +especially if the second syllable is weak and the last syllable no weaker +if not indeed stronger. Thus we have _pe'-ri-od, per'-son-ate, It'-aly,_ +etc. + +If for any reason the second syllable becomes stronger than either the +first or the last, then the second syllable must receive the accent +and the syllable before it is usually strengthened. Thus we have +_i-tal'-ic,_ and there is a natural tendency to make the _i_ long, +though in _Italy_ it is short. This is because _tal_ is stronger than +_ic,_ though not stronger than _y_. The syllable _ic_ is very weak, but +the obscure _er,_ or, _ur_ is still weaker, and so we have _rhet'-or-ic_. +In _his-tor'-ic_ the first syllable is too weak to take an accent, and we +strengthen its second syllable, giving _o_ the _aw_ sound. + +It will be seen that in words of two or more syllables there may be a +second, and even a third accent, the voice dwelling on every other +syllable. In _pe'-ri-od_ the dwelling on _od_ is scarcely perceptible, +but in _pe'-ri-od'-ic_ it becomes the chief accent, and it receives this +special force because _ic_ is so weak, In _ter'-ri-to-ry_ the secondary +accent on _to_ is slight because _ri_ is nearly equal and it is easy to +spread the stress over both syllables equally. + +The principles above illustrated have a decided limitation in the fact +that the value of vowels in English is more or less variable, and the +great "principle of derivation," as Webster calls it, exercises a still +potent influence, though one becoming every year less binding. +The following words taken bodily from the Greek or Latin are accented +on the penult rather than the antepenult (as analogy would lead us to +accent them) because in the original language the penultimate vowel was +long: abdo'men, hori'zon, deco'rum, diplo'ma, muse'um, sono'rous, +acu'men, bitu'men; and similarly such words as farra'go, etc. +We may never be sure just how to accent a large class of names taken +from the Latin and Greek without knowing the length of the vowel in the +original,--such words, for example, as _Mede'a, Posi'don_ (more properly +written _Posei'don_), _Came'nia, Iphigeni'a, Casto'lus, Cas'tores, etc_. + +In a general way we may assume that the chief accent lies on +either the penult or antepenult, the second syllable from the end, +or the third, and we will naturally place it upon the one that appears +to us most likely to be strong, while a slight secondary accent goes on +every second syllable before or after. If the next to the last syllable +is followed by a double consonant, we are sure it must be accented, +and if the combination of consonants is such that we cannot easily +accent the preceding syllable we need entertain no reasonable doubt. +By constant observation we will soon learn the usual value of vowels +and syllables as we pronounce them in ordinary speaking, and will follow +the analogy. If we have difficulty in determining the chief accent, +we will naturally look to see where secondary accents may come, +and thus get the key to the accent. + +It will be seen that rules are of little value, in this as in other +departments of the study of language. The main thing is to form the +_habit of observing_ words as we read and pronounce them, and thus develop +a habit and a sense that will guide us. The important thing to start with +is that we should know the general principle on which accent is based. + +Special Rules for Accent. + +Words having the following terminations are usually accented on the +antepenult, or third syllable from the end: _cracy, ferous, fluent, flous, +honal, gony, grapher, graphy, loger, logist, logy, loquy, machy, mathy, +meter, metry, nomy, nomy, parous, pathy, phony, scopy, strophe, tomy, +trophy, vomous, vorous_. + +Words of more than two syllables ending in _cate, date, gate, fy, tude,_ +and _ty_ preceded by a vowel usually accent the antepenult, +as _dep'recate,_ etc. + +All words ending in a syllable beginning with an _sh_ or _zh_ sound, +or _y_ consonant sound, except those words ending in _ch_ sounded like +_sh_ as _capu-chin',_ accent the penult or next to the last syllable, +as _dona'tion, condi'tion,_ etc. + +Words ending in _ic_ usually accent the penult, _scientif'ic, histor'ic,_ +etc. The chief exceptions are _Ar'abic, arith'metic, ar'senic, cath'olic, +chol'eric, her'etic, lu'natic, pleth'oric, pol'itic, rhet'oric, tur'meric. +Climacteric_ is accented by some speakers on one syllable and by some on +the other; so are _splenetic_ and _schismatic_. + +Most words ending in _eal_ accent the antepenult, but _ide'al_ and +_hymene'al_ are exceptions. Words in _ean_ and _eum_ are divided, +some one way and some the other. + +Words of two syllable ending in _ose_ usually accent the last syllable, +as _verbose',_ but words of three or more syllables with this ending +accent the antepenult, with a secondary accent on the last syllable, +as _com'-a-tose_. + +When it is desired to distinguish words differing but by a syllable, +the syllable in which the difference lies is given a special accent, +as in _bi'en'nial_ and _tri'en'nial, em'inent_ and _im'minent, op'pose'_ +and _sup'pose',_ etc. + +Sounds of Vowels in Different Positions. + +Let us now consider the value of vowels. + +We note first that position at the end of a word naturally makes every +vowel long except _y_; (e. g., _Levi, Jehu, potato_); but _a_ has the +Italian sound at the end of a word, or the sound usually given to _ah_. + +A vowel followed by two or more consonants is almost invariably short. +If a vowel is followed by one consonant in an accented syllable it will +probably receive the accent and be long. If the word has two syllables, +as in _Kinah,_ but if the word has three syllables the consonant will +probably receive the accent and the vowel will be short, as in _Jo`n'adab_. + +In words of three or more syllables the vowels are naturally short +unless made long by position or the like; but the vowel in the syllable +before the one which receives the accent, if it is the first syllable +of the word and followed by but one consonant, is likely to be long, +because the consonant which would otherwise end the syllable is drawn +over to the accented syllable, as in _di:-men'-sion_. This rule is +still more in force if no consonant intervenes, as _i_ in _di:-am'-e-ter_. +If the vowel is followed by two consonants which naturally unite, as in +_di:-gress,_ it is also long. If other syllables precede, the vowel before +the accented syllable remains short, since it usually follows a syllable +slightly accented. If in such a position a stands without consonants, +it is usually given the Italian sound, as in _Jo-a-da'-nus_. When two +_a_'s come together in different syllables, the first _a_ will usually +have the Italian sound unless it is accented, as in _Ja-a`k'-o-bah_. + +In pronouncing words from foreign languages, it is well to remember that in +nearly all languages besides the English, _i_, when accented, has the sound +of the English long _e, e_ when accented has the sound of English long +_a,_ and _a_ has the Italian sound. The English long sounds are seldom +or never represented in foreign words by the corresponding letters. +The sound of English long _i_ is represented by a combination of letters, +usually, such as _ei_. + +We may also remember that in Teutonic languages _g_ is usually hard even +before _e, i,_ and _y,_ but in Romance languages, or languages derived +from the Latin, these vowels make the _g_ and _c_ soft. + +_Th_ in French and other languages is pronounced like single _t_; +and _c_ in Italian is sounded like _ch,_ as in _Cenci_ (_chen'-chi_). + +Cultured Pronunciation. + +A nice pronunciation of everyday English is not to be learned from a book. +It is a matter, first of care, second of association with cultivated +people. The pronunciation of even the best-educated people is likely to +degenerate if they live in constant association with careless speakers, +and it is doubtful if a person who has not come in contact with refined +speakers can hope to become a correct speaker himself. + +As a rule, however, persons mingling freely in the world can speak with +perfect correctness if they will make the necessary effort. Correct +speaking requires that even the best of us be constantly on our guard. + +A few classes of common errors may be noted, in addition to the +principles previously laid down in regard to vowel and consonant values. + +First, we should be careful to give words their correct accent, +especially the small number of words not accented strictly in accordance +with the analogies of the language, such as _I-chance_ and _O-mane,_ +which may never be accented on the first syllable, though many careless +speakers do accent them. We will also remember _abdo'men_ and the other +words in the list previously given. + +Second, we should beware of a habit only too prevalent in the United States +of giving syllables not properly accented some share of the regular accent. +Dickens ridicules this habit unmercifully in "Martin Chuckle." Words so +mispronounced are _ter'-ri-to'-ry, ex'-act'-ly, isn't-best, big-cle,_ etc. +In the latter word this secondary accent is made to lengthen the _y,_ and +so causes a double error. The habit interferes materially with the musical +character of easy speech and destroys the desirable musical rhythm which +prose as well as poetry should have. + +Third, the vowel _a_ in such syllables as those found in _command, +chant, chance, graft, staff, pass, clasp,_ etc., should not have the +flat sound heard in _as, gas,_ etc., nor should it have the broad +Italian sound heard in _father,_ but rather a sound between. +Americans should avoid making their _a_'s too flat in words ending in +_ff, ft, ss, st, sk,_ and _sp_ preceded by _a,_ and in some words in +which a is followed by _nce_ and _nt,_ and even _nd,_ and Englishmen +should avoid making them too broad. + +Fourth, avoid giving _u_ the sound of _oo_ on all occasions. +After _r_ and in a few other positions we cannot easily give it any +other sound, but we need not say _soot'-a-ble, soo-per-noo-mer-a-ry; +nor noos, stoo,_ etc. + +Fifth, the long _o_ sound in words like _both, boat, coat,_ etc., +should be given its full value, with out being obscured. +New England people often mispronounce these words by shortening the _o_. +Likewise they do not give the _a_ in _care, bear, fair,_ etc., and the +e in _where, there,_ and _their,_ the correct sound, a modification of +the long _a_. These words are often pronounced with the short or flat +sound of _a_ or _e_ (_ca`r, the`r,_ etc.). + +Sixth, the obscured sound of _a_ in _wander, what,_ etc., +should be between broad _a_ as in _all_ and Italian _a_ as in _far_. +It is about equivalent to _o_ in _not_. + +Seventh, _a, e, i, o_ (except in accented syllables), and _u_ are nearly +alike in sound when followed by _r,_ and no special effort should be made +to distinguish _a, o,_ or _a,_ though the syllables containing them have +in fact the slightest possible more volume than those containing _e_ or +_i_ followed by _r_. Careless speakers, or careful speakers who are not +informed, are liable to try to make more of a distinction than really +exists. + +In addition to these hints, the student will of course make rigorous +application of principles before stated. _G_ and _c_ will be soft before +_e, i,_ and _y,_ hard before other vowels and all consonants; vowels +receiving the accent on the second syllable from the end (except _i_) +will be pronounced long (and we shall not hear _au-da`'-cious_ for +_auda:'-cious_); and all vowels but _a_ in the third syllable or +farther from the end will remain short if followed by a consonant, +though we should be on the lookout for such exceptions as +_ab-ste:'-mious,_ etc. (As the _u_ is kept long we will +say _tr_u`'_-cu-lency_ [troo], not _tr_u`_c'-u-lency,_ and +_s_u:'_-pernu-merary,_ not _s_u`_p'-ernumerary,_ etc.). + +These hints should be supplemented by reference to a good dictionary or +list of words commonly mispronounced. + + +CHAPTER V. + +A SPELLING DRILL. + +The method of using the following story of Robinson Crusoe, +specially arranged as a spelling drill, should include these steps: + +1. Copy the story paragraph by paragraph, with great accuracy, +noting every punctuation mark, paragraph indentations, numbers, and +headings. Words that should appear in italics should be underlined +once, in small capitals twice, in capitals three times. After the copy +has been completed, compare it word by word with the original, and if +errors are found, copy the entire story again from beginning to end, +and continue to copy it till the copy is perfect in every way. + +2. When the story has been accurately copied with the original before +the eyes, let some one dictate it, and copy from the dictation, +afterward comparing with the original, and continuing this process till +perfection is attained. + +3. After the ability to copy accurately from dictation has been secured, +write out the story phonetically. Lay aside the phonetic version for a +week and then write the story out from this version with the ordinary +spelling, subsequently comparing with the original until the final version +prepared from the phonetic version is accurate in every point. + +The questions may be indefinitely extended. After this story has been +fully mastered, a simple book like "Black Beauty" will furnish +additional material for drill. Mental observations, such as those +indicated in the notes and questions, should become habitual. + + + +THE STORY OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. + (For Dictation.) + + I. + +(Once writers of novels were called liars by some people, because they +made up out of their heads the stories they told. In our day we know +that there is more truth in many a novel than in most histories. +The story of Robinson Crusoe was indeed founded upon the experience of +a real man, named Alexander Selkirk, who lived seven years upon a +deserted island. Besides that, it tells more truly than has been told +in any other writing what a sensible man would do if left to care for +himself, as Crusoe was.) + +1. A second storm came upon us (says Crusoe in telling his own story), +which carried us straight away westward. Early in the morning, while +the wind was still blowing very hard, one of the men cried out, "Land!" +We had no sooner run out of the cabin than the ship struck upon a +sandbar, and the sea broke over her in such a manner that we were driven +to shelter from the foam and spray. + +Questions and Notes. What is peculiar about _writers, liars, know, +island, straight, foam, spray?_ (Answer. In _liars_ we have _ar,_ not +_er_. In the others, what silent letters?) Make sentences containing +_right, there, hour, no, strait, see,_ correctly used. Point out three +words in which _y_ has been changed to _i_ when other letters were added +to the word. Indicate two words in which _ea_ has different sounds. +Find the words in which silent _e_ was dropped when a syllable was +added. What is peculiar about _sensible? cabin? driven? truly? Crusoe?_ + +To remember the spelling of _their,_ whether it is _ei_ or _ie,_ +note that it refers to what _they_ possess, _theyr_ things--- +the _y_ changed to _i_ when _r_ is added. + + II. + +2. We were in a dreadful condition, and the storm having ceased a +little, we thought of nothing but saving our lives. In this distress +the mate of our vessel laid ho a boat we had on board, and with the help +of the other men got her flung over the ship's side. Getting all into +her, we let her go and committed ourselves, eleven in number, +to God's mercy and the wild sea. + +(While such a wind blew, you may be sure they little knew where the +waves were driving them, or if they might not be beaten to pieces on the +rocks. No doubt the waves mounted to such a height and the spray caused +such a mist that they could see only the blue sky above them.) + +3. After we had driven about a league and a half, a raging wave, +mountain high, took us with such fury that it overset the boat, and, +separating us, gave us hardly time to cry, "Oh, God!" + +Questions and Notes. What words in the above paragraphs contain the +digraph _ea_? What sound does it represent in each word? What other +digraphs are found in words in the above paragraphs? What silent +letters? What principle or rule applies to _condition? having? +distress? getting? committed? eleven?_ What is peculiar about _thought? +lives? laid? mercy? blew? pieces? mountain? league? half? could?_ Compare +_ei_ in height and _i_ alone in _high_. Think of _nothing_ as _no thing._ +To remember the _ie_ in _piece,_ remember that _pie_ and _piece_ are +spelled in the same way. _Separate_ has an _a_ in the second syllable-- +like _part,_ since _separate_ means to "_part_ in two." You easily the +word PART in SEPARATE, Observe that _ful_ in _dreadful_ has but one _l_. + + III. + +4. That wave carried me a vast way on toward shore, and having spent +itself went back, leaving me upon the land almost dry, but half dead +with the water I had taken into my lungs and stomach. Seeing myself +nearer the mainland than I had expected, with what breath I had left I +got upon my feet and endeavored with all my strength to make toward land +as fast as I could. + +5. I was wholly buried by the next wave that came upon me, +but again I was carried a great way toward shore. I was ready to burst +with holding my breath, when to my relief I found my head and hands +shoot above the surface of the water. I was covered again with water, +and dashed against a rock. The blow, taking my breast and side, +beat the breath quite out of my body. I held fast by the piece of rock, +however, and then, although very weak, I fetched another run, +so that I succeeded in getting to the mainland, where I sat me down, +quite out of reach of the water. + +Questions and Notes. In what words in the preceding paragraphs has +silent _a_ been dropped on adding a syllable? In what words do you find +the digraph _ea,_ and what sound does it have in each? How many +different sounds of _ea_ do you find? What is the difference between +_breath_ and _breathe---all_ the differences? How many l's in _almost?_ + +In what other compounds does _all_ drop one _l_? Why do we not have two +_r_'s in _covered_? (Answer. The syllable containing _er_ is not accented. +Only accented syllables double a final single consonant on adding a +syllable.) What rule applies in the formation of _carried? having? +endeavored? buried? taking? although? getting?_ What is peculiar in +_toward? half? water? stomach? wholly? again? body? succeeded? of?_ + +To remember whether _relief, belief,_ etc., have the digraph _ie_ or +_ei,_ notice that _e_ just precedes _f_ in the alphabet and in the word, +while the _i_ is nearer the _l_; besides, the words contain the word +_lie_. In _receive, receipt,_ the _e_ is placed nearest the _c_, which +it is nearest in the alphabet. Or, think of _lice: i_ follows _l_ and +_e_ follows _a,_ as in the words _believe_ and _receive_. + +Observe the two _l_'s in _wholly,---_ one in _whole_; we do not have +_wholely,_ as we might expect. Also observe that in _again_ and _against +ai_ has the sound of _e_ short, as _a_ has that sound in _any_ and _many_. + + IV. + +6. I believe it is impossible truly to express what the ecstasies of +the soul are when it is so saved, as I may say, out of the grave. +"For sudden joys, like sudden griefs, confound at first." + +7. I walked about on the shore, my whole being wrapped up in thinking +of what I had been through, and thanking God for my deliverance. +Not one soul had been saved but myself. Nor did I afterward see any +sign of them, except three of their hats, one cap, and two shoes. + +8. I soon began to look about me. I had no change of clothes, +nor anything either to eat or drink; nor did I see anything before me +but dying of hunger or being eaten by wild beasts. + +(Crusoe afterward cast up a sort of ledger account of the good and evil +in his lot. On the side of evil he placed, first, the fact that he had +been thrown upon a bare and barren island, with no hope of escape. +Against this he set the item that he alone had been saved. +On the side of evil he noted that he had no clothes; but on the other +hand, this was a warm climate, where he could hardly wear clothes if he +had them. Twenty-five years later he thought he would be perfectly +happy if he were not in terror of men coming to his island--who, +he feared, might eat him.) + +Questions and Notes. How do you remember the _ie_ in _believe, grief,_ +etc.? Give several illustrations from the above paragraphs of the +principle that we have a double consonant (in an accented penultimate +syllable) after a short vowel. Give illustrations of the single consonant +after a long vowel. Make a list of the words containing silent letters, +including all digraphs. What letter does _true_ have which _truly_ does +not? Is _whole_ pronounced like _hole? wholly_ like _holy?_ What is the +difference between _clothes_ and _cloths?_ What sound has _a_ in _any_? +How do you remember that _i_ follows _e_ in _their?_ What rule applies in +the formation of _dying_? Point out two words or more in the above in +which we have a silent _a_ following two consonants to indicate a +preceding long vowel. Give cases of a digraph followed by a silent _e_. +(Note. Add silent _e_ to _past_ and make _paste_---long _a_.) Is the _i_ +in _evil_ sounded? There were no _bears_ upon this island. Mention +another kind of _bear_. Observe the difference between _hardware_-- +iron goods--and _hard wear,_ meaning tough usage. What is peculiar about +_soul? impossible? ecstasies? wrapped? deliverance? sign? except? shoes? +hunger? thrown? terror? island?_ + + V. + +9. I decided to climb into a tree and sit there until the next day, +to think what death I should die. As night came on my heart was heavy, +since at night beasts come abroad for their prey. Having cut a short +stick for my defense, I took up my lodging on a bough, and fell fast +asleep. I afterward found I had no reason to fear wild beasts, +for never did I meet any harmful animal. + +10. When I awoke it was broad day, the weather was clear and I saw the +ship driven almost to the rock where I had been so bruised. +The ship seeming to stand upright still, I wished myself aboard, +that I might save some necessary things for my use. + +(Crusoe shows his good judgment in thinking at once of saving something +from the ship for his after use. While others would have been bemoaning +their fate, he took from the vessel what he knew would prove useful, +and in his very labors he at last found happiness. Not only while his +home-building was new, but even years after, we find him still hard at +work and still inventing new things.) + +Questions and Notes. There are two _l_'s in _till_; why not in _until?_ + +What other words ending in two _l_'s drop one _l_ in compounds? +What two sounds do you find given to _oa_ in the preceding paragraphs? +What is peculiar about _climb? death? dies? night? heart? heavy? since? +beasts? prey? defense? lodging? bough? never? harmful? weather? driven? +bruised? necessary? judgment? others? happiness? build?_ + +Use the following words in appropriate sentences: _clime, dye, pray, +bow, write, would_. What two pronunciations may _bow_ have, +and what is the difference in meaning? What two sounds may _s_ have in +_use,_ and what difference do they mark? + +What two rules are violated in _judgment?_ What other words are similar +exceptions? + + VI. + +11. As I found the water very calm and the ship but a quarter of a mile +out, I made up my mind to swim out and get on board her. I at once +proceeded to the task. My first work was to search out the provisions, +since I was very well disposed to eat. I went to the bread-room and +filled my pockets with biscuit. I saw that I wanted nothing but a boat +to supply myself with many things which would be necessary to me, +and I glanced about me to see how I might meet this need. + +12. I found two or three large spars and a spare mast or two, +which I threw overboard, tying every one with a rope that it might +not drift away. Climbing down the ship's side, I pulled them toward +me and tied four of them fast together in the form of a raft, +laying two or three pieces of plank upon them crosswise. + +13. I now had a raft strong enough to bear any reasonable weight. +My next care was to load it. I got three of the seamen's chests, +which I managed to break open and empty. These I filled with bread, +rice, five pieces of dried goat's flesh, and a little remainder of +European grain. There had been some barley and wheat together; +but the rats had eaten or spoiled it. + +Questions and Notes. In _calm_ you have a silent _l_; what other words +can you mention with this silent _l_? Note the double _e_ in _proceed_ +and _succeed; precede_ has one _e_ with the silent _e_ at the end. +Note that _u_ is inserted into _biscuit_ simply to make the _c_ hard +before _i_; with this allowance, this word is spelled regularly. +What is the difference between _spar_ and _spare?_ What other word have +we had pronounced like _threw_? Explain _tying_ and _tied_. +Did any change take place when _ed_ was added to _tie_? Note that +_four_ is spelled with _ou_ for the long _o_ sound; _forty_ with a +simple _o_. How is _14_ spelled? How do you remember _ie_ in _piece_? +What sound has _ei_ in _weight_? Mention another word in which _ei_ has +the same sound. What other word is pronounced like _bear_? How do you +spell the word like this which is the name of a kind of animal? In what +three ways do you find the long sound of _a_ represented in the above +paragraphs? Make a list of the words with silent consonants? + + VII. + +14. My next care was for arms. There were two very good fowling-pieces +in the great cabin, and two pistols. And now I thought myself pretty well +freighted, and began to think how I should get to shore, having neither +sail, oar, nor rudder; and the least capful of wind would have overset me. + +15. I made many other journeys to the ship, and took away among other +things two or three bags of nails, two or three iron crows, and a great +roll of sheet lead. This last I had to tear apart and carry away in +pieces, it was so heavy. I had the good luck to find a box of sugar and +a barrel of fine flour. On my twelfth voyage I found two or three +razors with perfect edges, one pair of large scissors, with some ten or +a dozen good knives and forks. In a drawer I found some money. +"Oh, drug!" I exclaimed. "What art thou good for?" + +(To a man alone on a desert island, money certainly has no value. +He can buy nothing, sell nothing; he has no debts to be paid; he earns +his bread by the sweat of his brow, his business is all with himself and +nature, and nature expects no profit, but allows no credit, for a man +must pay in work as he goes along. Crusoe had many schemes; but it took +a great deal of work to carry them out; and the sum of all was steady +work for twenty-five years. In the end we conclude that whatever he got +was dearly bought. We come to know what a thing is worth only by +measuring its value in the work which it takes to get that thing or to +make it, as Crusoe did his chairs, tables, earthenware, etc.) + +Questions and Notes. What is peculiar in these words: _cabin, pistols, +razors, money, value, measuring, bought, barley, capful, roll, successors, +desert, certainly?_ What sound has _ou_ in _journeys?_ Is this sound for +_ou_ common? What rule applies to the plural of _journey?_ How else may +we pronounce _lead?_ What part of speech is it there? What is the past +participle of _lead?_ Is that pronounced like _lead,_ the metal? +How else may _tear_ be pronounced? What does that other word mean? +Find a word in the above paragraphs pronounced like _flower_. +What other word pronounced like _buy? profit? sum? dear? know? ware?_ +What sound has _s_ in _sugar_? Make a list of the different ways in which +long _e_ is represented. What is peculiar about _goes_? Make a list of +the different ways in which long _a_ is represented in the above +paragraphs. What sound has _o_ in _iron_? Is _d_ silent in _edges_? +What sound has _ai_ in _pairs_? What other word pronounced like this? +How do you spell the fruit pronounced like _pair_? How do you spell the +word for the act of taking the skin off any fruit? What sound has _u_ in +_business?_ In what other word has it the same sound? Mention another +word in which _ch_ has the same sound that it has in _schemes_. What other +word in the above has _ai_ with the same sound that it has in _chairs_? + + VIII. + +16. I now proceeded to choose a healthy, convenient, and pleasant spot +for my home. I had chiefly to consider three things: First, air; +second, shelter from the heat; third, safety from wild creatures, +whether men or beasts; fourth, a view of the sea, that if God sent any +ship in sight I might not lose any chance of deliverance. In the course +of my search I found a little plain on the side of a rising hill, with +a hollow like the entrance to a cave. Here I resolved to pitch my tent. + +(He afterward found a broad, grassy prairie on the other side of the +island, where he wished he had made his home. On the slope above grew +grapes, lemons, citrons, melons, and other kinds of fruit.) + +17. Aft er ten or twelve days it came into my thoughts that I should +lose my reckoning for want of pen and ink; but to prevent this I cut +with my knife upon a large post in capital letters the following words: +"I came on shore here on the 30th of September, 1659." On the sides of +this post I cut every day a notch; and thus I kept my calendar, +or weekly, monthly, and yearly reckoning of time. + +(He afterward found pen, ink, and paper in the ship; but the record on +the post was more lasting than anything he could have written on paper. +However, when he got his pen and ink he wrote out a daily journal, +giving the history of his life almost to the hour and minute. +Thus he tells us that the shocks of earthquake were eight minutes apart, +and that he spent eighteen days widening his cave.) + +18. I made a strong fence of stakes about my tent that no animal could +tear down, and dug a cave in the side of the hill, where I stored my powder +and other valuables. Every day I went out with my gun on this scene of +silent life. I could only listen to the birds, and hear the wind among +the trees. I came out, however, to shoot goats for food. I found that as +I came down from the hills into the valleys, the wild goats did not see me; +but if they caught sight of me, as they did if I went toward them from +below, they would turn tail and run so fast I could capture nothing. + +Questions and Notes. Are all words in _-ceed_ spelled with a double +_e_? What two other common words besides _proceed_ have we already +studied? What sound has _ea_ in _healthy?_ in _pleasant?_ in _please?_ +How do you remember that _i_ comes before _e_ in _chief?_ What sound +has _ai_ in _air?_ Do you spell 14 and 40 with _ou_ as you do _fourth?_ +What other word pronounced like _sea?_ Note the three words, _lose, +loose,_ and _loss;_ what is the difference in meaning? Why does +_chance_ end with a silent _e? change?_ What other classes of words +take a silent _e_ where we should not expect it? What other word +pronounced like _course?_ What does it mean? How do you spell the word +for the tool with which a carpenter smooths boards? Mention five other +words with a silent _t_ before _ch_, as in _pitch_. To remember the +order of letters in _prairie,_ notice that there is an _i_ next to the +_r_ on either side. What other letters represent the vowel sound heard +in _grew?_ What two peculiarities in the spelling of _thoughts?_ +Mention another word in which _ou_ has the same sound as in _thought_. +How is this sound regularly represented? What other word pronounced +like _capital?_ (Answer. _Capitol_. The chief government building is +called the _capitol;_ the city in which the seat of government is +located is called the _capital,_ just as the large letters are called +_capitals_.) What sound has _ui_ in _fruit?_ What other two sounds +have we had for _ui_? Would you expect a double consonant in _melons_ +and _lemons,_ or are these words spelled regularly? What is peculiar +about the spelling of _calendar?_ What other word like it, and what +does it mean? What other word spelled like _minute,_ but pronounced +differently? What sound has _u_ in this word? What other word +pronounced like _scene?_ Is _t_ silent in _listen?_ in often? Why is +_y_ not changed to _i_ or _ie_ in _valleys?_ What other plural is made +in the same way? Write sentences in which the following words shall be +correctly used: _are, forth,_ see (two meanings), _cent, cite, coarse, +rate, ate, tare, seen, here, site, tale_. In what two ways may _wind_ +be pronounced, and what is the difference in meaning? + + IX. + +19. I soon found that I lacked needles, pins, and thread, +and especially linen. Yet I made clothes and sewed up the seams with +tough stripe of goatskin. I afterward got handkerchiefs and shirts from +another wreck. However, for want of tools my work went on heavily; +yet I managed to make a chair, a table, and several large shelves. +For a long time I was in want of a wagon or carriage of some kind. +At last I hewed out a wheel of wood and made a wheelbarrow. + +20. I worked as steadily as I could for the rain, for this was the +rainy season. I may say I was always busy. I raised a turf wall close +outside my double fence, and felt sure if any people came on shore they +would not see anything like a dwelling. I also made my rounds in the +woods every day. As I have already said, I found plenty of wild goats. +I also found a kind of wild pigeon, which builds, not as wood pigeons do, +in trees, but in holes of the rocks. The young ones were very good meat. + +Questions and Notes. What sound has _ea_ in _thread?_ What is peculiar +in the spelling of _liven?_ What is peculiar in the spelling of +_handkerchiefs?_ wrecks? What rule applied to the formation of the word +_heavily?_ What sound has _ai_ in _chair?_ Is the _i_ or the _a_ +silent in _carriage?_ (Look this up in the dictionary.) What sound has +_u_ in busy? What other word with the same sound for _u_? Is there any +word besides _people_ in which _eo_ has the sound of _e_ long? +In what other compounds besides _also_ does _all_ drop one _l_? +What sound has _ai_ in _said?_ Does it have this sound in any other +word? What sound has _eo_ in _pigeon? ui_ in _builds?_ What other word +pronounced like _hole?_ How do you remember _ei_ in _their?_ + +Use the following words in appropriate sentences: _so, seem, hew, rein, +meet_. What differences do you find in the principles of formation of +_second, wreck, lock, reckon?_ In what different ways is the sound of +long _a_ represented in paragraphs 19 and 20? What is peculiar in +_tough? especially? handkerchiefs? season? raised? double? fence? +already? pigeon? ones? very? were?_ + + X. + +21. I found that the seasons of the year might generally be divided, +not into summer and winter, as in Europe, but into the rainy seasons and +the dry seasons, which were generally thus: From the middle of February to +the middle of April (including March), rainy; the sun being then on or near +the equinox. From the middle of April to the middle of August (including +May, June, and July), dry; the sun being then north of the equator. +From the middle of August till the middle of October (including September), +rainy; the sun being then come back to the equator. From the middle of +October till the middle of February (including November, December, +and January), dry; the sun being then to the south of the equator. + +22. I have already made mention of some grain that had been spoiled by +the rats. Seeing nothing but husks and dust in the bag which had +contained this, I shook it out one day under the rock on one side of my +cave. It was just before the rainy season began. About a month later +I was surprised to see ten or twelve ears of English barley that had +sprung up and several stalks of rice. You may be sure I saved the seed, +hoping that in time I might have enough grain to supply me with bread. +It was not until the fourth season that I could allow myself the least +particle to eat, and none of it was ever wasted. From this handful, +I had in time all the rice and barley I needed for food,---above forty +bushels of each in a year, as I might guess, for I had no measure. + +23. I may mention that I took from the ship two cats; and the ship's +dog which I found there was so overjoyed to see me that he swam +ashore with me. These were much comfort to me. But one of the cats +disappeared and I thought she was dead. I heard no more of her till she +came home with three kittens. In the end I was so overrun with cats +that I had to shoot some, when most of the remainder disappeared in the +woods and did not trouble me any more. + +Questions and Notes. Why is _g_ soft in _generally?_ How do you +pronounce _February?_ What sound ha{ve the _}s{_'}s in _surprised?_ +Mention three or four other words ending in the sound of _ize_ which +are spelled with an _s_. What sound has _ou_ in _enough?_ +What other words have _gh_ with the sound of _f_? We have here the +spelling of waste--meaning carelessly to destroy or allow to be +destroyed; what is the spelling of the word which means the middle of +the body? Is _ful_ always written with one _l_ in derivatives, +as in _handful_ above? Mention some other words in which _ce_ has the +sound of _c_ as in _rice_. How do you spell _14_? like forty? Why is +_u_ placed before _e_ in _guess?_ Is it part of a digraph with _e_? +What sound has _ea_ in _measure?_ What sound has it in this word? +What other word pronounced like _heard?_ Which is spelled regularly? +How many _l_'s has _till_ in compounds? Mention an example. + +Use the following words in sentences: _herd, write, butt, reign, won, +bred, waist, kneaded, sum_. What is peculiar about _year? divided? +equator? December? grain? nothing? contain? barley? until? each? there? +thought? some? disappeared? trouble?_ + + XI. + +24. One day in June I found myself very ill. I had a cold fit and then +a hot one, with faint sweats after it. My body ached all over, +and I had violent pains in my head. The next day I felt much better, +but had dreadful fears of sickness, since I remembered that I was alone, +and had no medicines, and not even any food or drink in the house. +The following day I had a terrible headache with my chills and fever; +but the day after that I was better again, and went out with my gun and +shot a she-goat; yet I found myself very weak. After some days, +in which I learned to pray to God for the first time after eight years +of wicked seafaring life, I made a sort of medicine _by_ steeping +tobacco leaf in rum. I took a large dose of this several times a day. +In the course of a week or two I got well; but for some time after I was +very pale, and my muscles were weak and flabby. + +25. After I had discovered the various kinds of fruit which grew on the +other side of the island, especially the grapes which I dried for +raisins, my meals were as follows: I ate a bunch of raisins for my +breakfast; for dinner a piece of goat's flesh or of turtle broiled; +and two or three turtle's eggs for supper. As yet I had nothing in +which I could boil or stew anything. When my grain was grown I had +nothing with which to mow or reap it, nothing with which to +thresh it or separate it from the chaff, no mill to grind it, +no sieve to clean it, no yeast or salt to make it into bread, +and no oven in which to bake it. I did not even have a water-pail. +Yet all these things I did without. In time I contrived earthen +vessels which were very useful, though rather rough and coarse; +and I built a hearth which I made to answer for an oven. + +Questions and Notes. What is peculiar about _body?_ What sound has +_ch_ in _ached?_ Note that there are to _i_'s in _medicine_. What is +peculiar about _house?_ What other word pronounced like _weak?_ Use it +in a sentence. What is the plural of _leaf?_ What are all the +differences between _does_ and _dose?_ Why is _week_ in the phrase +"In the course of a week or two" spelled with double _e_ instead of +_ea?_ What is irregular about the word _muscles?_ Is _c_ soft before +_l_? Is it silent in _muscles?_ What three different sounds may _ui_ +have? Besides _fruit,_ what other words with _ui_? What sound has _ea_ +in _breakfast?_ What two pronunciations has the word _mow?_ +What difference in meaning? What sound has _e_ in _thresh?_ +How do you remember the _a_ in _separate?_ What sound has _ie_ in +_sieve?_ Do you know any other word in which _ie_ has this sound? +What other sound does it often have? Does _ea_ have the same + sound in _earthen_ and _hearth?_ Is _w_ sounded in _answer?_ +What sound has _o_ in _oven?_ Use the following words in sentences: +_week, pole, fruit, pane, weak, course, bred, pail, ruff_. + + XII. + +26. You would have smiled to see me sit down to dinner with my family. +There was my parrot, which I had taught to speak. My dog was grown very +old and crazy; but he sat at my right hand. Then there were my two +cats, one on one side of the table and one on the other. +Besides these, I had a tame kid or two always about the house, and +several sea-fowls whose wings I had clipped. These were my subjects. +In their society I felt myself a king. I was lord of all the land +about, as far as my eye could reach. I had a broad and wealthy domain. +Here I reigned sole master for twenty-five years. Only once did I try +to leave my island in a boat; and then I came near being carried out +into the ocean forever by an ocean current I had not noticed before. + +27. When I had been on the island twenty-three years I was greatly +frightened to see a footprint in the sand. For two years after I saw no +human being; but then a large company of savages appeared in canoes. +When they had landed they built a fire and danced about it. +Presently they seemed about to make a feast on two captives they had +brought with them. By chance, however, one of them escaped. +Two of the band followed him; but he was a swifter runner +than they. Now, I thought, is my chance to get a servant. +So I ran down the hill, and with the butt of my musket knocked down one +of the two pursuers. When I saw the other about to draw his bow. +I was obliged to shoot him. The man I had saved seemed at first as +frightened at me as were his pursuers. But I beckoned him to come to +me and gave him all the signs of encouragement I could think of. + +28. He was a handsome fellow, with straight, strong limbs. +He had a very good countenance, not a fierce and surly appearance. +His hair was long and black, not curled like wool; his forehead was very +high and large; and the color of his skin was not quite black, but +tawny. His face was round and plump; his nose small, not flat like that +of negroes; and he had fine teeth, well set, and as white as ivory. + +29. Never man had a more faithful, loving, sincere servant than Friday +was to me (for so I called him from the day on which I had saved his +life). I was greatly delighted with him and made it my business to +teach him everything that was proper to make him useful, handy, +and helpful. He was the aptest scholar that ever was, and so merry, +and so pleased when he could but understand me, that it was very +pleasant to me to talk to him. Now my life began to be so easy, +that I said to myself, that could I but feel safe from more savages, +I cared not if I were never to remove from the place where I lived. + +(Friday was more like a son than a servant to Crusoe. Here was one +being who could under-stand human speech, who could learn the difference +between right and wrong, who could be neighbor, friend, and companion. +Crusoe had often read from his Bible; but now he might teach this +heathen also to read from it the truth of life. Friday proved a good +boy, and never got into mischief.) + +Questions and Notes. What is the singular of _canoes?_ What is the +meaning of _butt?_ How do you spell the word pronounced like this which +means a hogshead? In what two ways is _bow_ pronounced? What is the +difference in meaning? What other word pronounced like _bow_ when it +means the front end of a boat? _Encouragement_ has an _e_ after +the _g_; do you know two words ending in _ment_ prece eded by the soft +_g_ sound which omit the silent _e_? Make a list of all the words you +know which, like _fierce,_ have _ie_ with the sound of _a_ long. +How do you pronounce _forehead?_ Mention two peculiarities in the +spelling of _color_. Compare it with _collar_. What is the singular +of _negroes?_ What other words take _es_ in the plural? What is the +plural of _tobacco?_ Compare _speak,_ with its _ea_ for the sound of +_e_ long, and _speech,_ with its double _e_. What two peculiarities in +_neighbor?_ What sound has _ie_ in _friend?_ In the last paragraph +above, how do you pronounce the first word _read?_ How the second? +What other word pronounced like _read_ with _ea_ like short _a_? +Compare to _lead, led,_ and the metal _lead_. How do you pronounce +_mischief?_ Use the following words in sentences: _foul, reign, sole, +strait, currant_. What is peculiar in these words: _parrot? taught? +always? reach? only? leave? island? carried? ocean? notice? built? +dance? brought? get? runner? butt? knock?_ + +Derivation of words. + +It is always difficult to do two things at the same time, and for that +reason no reference has been made in the preceding exercises +to the rules for prefixes and suffixes, and in general to the +derivation of words. This should be taken up as a separate study, +until the meaning of every prefix and suffix is clear in the mind in +connection with each word. This study, however, may very well be +postponed till the study of grammar has been taken up. + + +APPENDIX + +VARIOUS SPELLINGS + +Authorized by Different Dictionaries. + +There are not many words which are differently spelled by the various +standard dictionaries. The following is a list of the more common ones. + +The form preferred by each dictionary is indicated by letters in +parantheses as follows: C., Century; S., Standard; I., Webster's +International; W., Worcester; E., English usage as represented by the +Imperial. When the new Oxford differs from the Imperial, it is indicated +by O. Stormonth's English dictionary in many instances prefers Webster's +spellings to those of the Imperial. + +accoutre (C., W., E.) + accouter (S., I.) +aluminium (C., I., W., E.) + aluminum (S.) +analyze (C., S., I., W.) + analyse (E.) +anesthetic (C., S.) + anaesthetic (I., W., E.) +appal (C., S., E.) + appall (I., W.) +asbestos (C., S., W., E.) + asbetus (I.) +ascendancy (C., W.) + ascendancy (S., I., E.) +ax (C., S., I.) + axe (W., E.) +ay [forever] (C., S., O.) + aye " (I., W., E.) +aye [yes] (C., S., I., O.) + ay " (W., E.) +bandana (C., E.) + bandanna (S.,{ }I.,{ }W.,{ }O.) +biased (C., S., I., O.) + biassed (W., E.) +boulder (C., S., W., E.) + bowlder (I.) +Brahman (C., S., I., E.) + Brahmin (W., O.) +braize (C., S.) + braise (I., W., E.) +calif (C., S., E.) + caliph (I., W., O.) +callisthenics (C., S., E.) + calisthenics (I., W.) +cancelation (C., S.) + cancellation (I., W., E.) +clue (C., S., E.) + clew (I., W.) +coolie (C., S., E.) + cooly (I., W.) +courtezan (C., I., E.) + courtesan (I., W., O.) +cozy (C., S., I.) + cosey (W., E.) + cosy (O.) +crozier (C., I., E.) + crosier (I., W., O.) +defense (C., S., I.) + defence (W., E.) +despatch (C., S., W., E.) + dispatch (I., O.) +diarrhea (C., S., I.) + diarrheoa (W., E.) +dicky (C., W., O.) + dickey (S., I., E.) +disk (C., S., I., W., O.) + disc (E.) +distil (C., S., W., E.) + distill (I.) +dullness (C., I., O.) + dulness (S., W., E.) +employee (C., S., E.) + employe {[male] }(I., W., O.) +encumbrance (C., S., W., I.) + incumbrance (I.) +enforce---see reinforce +engulf (C., S., W., E.) + ingulf (I.) +enrolment (C., S., W., E.) + enrollment (I.) +enthrall (C., S., E.) + inthrall (I., W.) +equivoke (C., S., W.) + equivoque (I., E.) +escalloped (C., S., O.) + escaloped (I., W., E.) +esthetic (C., S.) + aesthetic (I., W., E.) +feces (C., S.) + faeces (I., W., E.) +fetish (C., S., O.) + fetich (I., W., E.) +fetus (C., S., I., E.) + fetus (W., O.) +flunky (C., S., I., W.) + flunkey (E.) +fulfil (C., S., W., E.) + fulfill (I.) +fullness (C., I., O.) + fulness (S., W., E.) +gage [measure] (C., S.) + gauge " (I., W., E{.)} +gaiety (C., S., E.) + gayety (I., W.) +gazel (C., S.) + gazelle (I., W., E.) +guild (I., W., E.) + gild (C., S.) +gipsy (C., S., O.) + gypsy (I., W., E.) +gram (C., S., I.) + gramme (W., E.) +gruesome (C., S., O.) + grewsome (I., W., E.) +harken (C., S.) + hearken (I., W., E.) +hindrance (C., S., I., O.) + hinderance (W., E.) +Hindu (C., S., E.) + Hindoo (I., W.) +Hindustani (C., S., E.) + Hindoostanee (I.) +homeopathic (C., S., I.) + homeopathic (W., E.) +impale (C., I., E.) + empale (S., W.) +incase (C., S., I., E.) + encase (W., O.) +inclose (C., I., E.) + enclose (S., W., O.) +instil (C., S., W., E.) + instill (I.) +jewelry (C., S., I., E.) + jewellery (W., O.) +kumiss (C., S., E.) + koumiss (I., W., O.) +maugre (C., S., W., E.) + mauger (I.) +meager (C., S., I.) + meagre (W., E.) +medieval (C., S.) + mediaeval (I., W., E.) +mold (C., S., I.) + mould (W., E.) +molt (C., S., I.) + moult (W., E) +offense (C., S., I.) + offence (W., E.) +pandoor (C., W., E.) + pandour (S., I.) +papoose (C., S., W., E.) + pappoose (W.) +paralyze (C., S., W., I.) + paralyse (E.) +pasha (C., S., I., E.) + pacha (W.) +peddler (C., I.) + pedler (S., W.) + pedlar (E.) +phenix (C., S., I.) + phenix (W., E.) +plow (C., S., I.) + plough (W., E.) +pretense (C., S., I.) + pretence (W., E.) +program (C., S.) + programme (I., W., E.) +racoon (C.) + raccoon (S., I., W., E.) +rajah (I., W., E.) + raja (C., S.) +reconnaissance (C., S., E.) + reconnoissance (I., W.) +referable (C., S., I.) + referrible (W., E.) +reinforce (C., E.) + reenforce (S., I., W.) +reverie (C., S., I., E.) + revery (W.) +rhyme (I., W., E.) + rime (C., S.) +rondeau (W., E.) + rondo (C., S., I.) +shinny (C., S.) + shinty (I., W., E.) +skean (C., S., I., E.) + skain (W.) +skilful (C., S., W., E.) + skillful (I.) +smolder (C., S., I.) + smoulder (W., E.) +spoony (C., S., E.) + spooney (I., W.) +sumac (C., S., I., E.) + sumach (W.) +swingletree (C., S., W.) + singletree (I.) +synonym (C., S., I., E.) + synonyme (W.) +syrup (C., E.) + sirup (S., I., W.) +Tartar (I., W., E.) + Tatar (C., S.) +threnody (C., S., W., E.) + threnode (I.) +tigerish (C., S., I.) + tigrish (W., E.) +timbal (C., S.) + tymbal (I., W., E) +titbit (C., S.) + tidbit (I., W., E.) +vise [tool] (C., S., I.) + vice " (W., E.) +vizier (S., I., W., E.) + vizir (C.) +visor (I., W., E.) + vizor (C., S.) +whippletree (S., I., W., E.) + whiffletree (C.) +whimsy (C., S.) + whimsey (I., W., E.) +whisky (C., S., I., E.) + whiskey (W.{, Irish}) +wilful (C., S., W., E.) + willful (I.) +woeful (C., I., E.) + woful (S., W.) +worshiped (C., S., I.) + worshipped (W., E.) + +All dictionaries but the Century make _envelop_ the verb, _envelope_ the +noun. The Century spells the noun _envelop_ as well as the verb. + +According to the Century, Worcester, and the English dictionaries, +_practise_ (with _s_) is the verb, _practice_ (with _c_) is the noun. +The Standard spells both _practise,_ and Webster both practice. + +Doubling l. + +Worcester and the English dictionaries double a final _l_ in all cases +when a syllable is added, Webster, the Century, and the Standard only +when the rule requires it. Thus: wool---woollen, Jewel---jewelled, +travel---traveller. + +Re for er. + +The following are the words which Worcester and the English dictionaries +spell _re_, while Webster, the Century, and the Standard prefer +_er:_Calibre, centre, litre, lustre, maneuvre (I. maneuver), meagre, +metre, mitre, nitre, ochre, ombre, piastre, sabre, sceptre, sepulchre, +sombre, spectre, theatre, zaffre,{.} + +English words with our. + +The following are the words in which the English retain the _u_ in +endings spelled _or_ by American dictionaries. All other words, +such as _author, emperor,_ etc., though formerly spelled with _u,_ +no longer retain it even in England: + +Arbour, ardour, armour, behaviour, candour, clamour, colour, contour, +demeanour, dolour, enamour, endeavour, favour, fervour, flavour, +glamour, harbour, honour, humour, labour, neighbour, odour, parlour, +rancour, rigour, rumour, saviour, splendour, succour, tabour, tambour, +tremour, valour, vapour, vigour,. + +_____________________________________________________________________ + + + + +THE ART _of_ WRITING & SPEAKING _The_ ENGLISH LANGUAGE + +SHERWIN CODY + +Special S Y S T E M Edition + +COMPOSITION & Rhetoric + +The Old Greek Press +_Chicago New{ }York Boston_ + +_Revised Edition_. + + +_Copyright,1903,_ BY SHERWIN CODY. + +Note. The thanks of the author are due to Dr. Edwin H. Lewis, of the +Lewis Institute, Chicago, and to Prof. John F. Genung, Ph. D., of Amherst +College, for suggestions made after reading the proof of this series. + + +CONTENTS. + +INTRODUCTION.---THE METHOD OF THE MASTERS. 7 +CHAPTER I. DICTION. +CHAPTER II. FIGURES OF SPEECH. +CHAPTER III. STYLE. +CHAPTER IV. HUMOR.---Addison, Stevenson, Lamb. +CHAPTER V. RIDICULE.---Poe. +CHAPTER VI. THE RHETORICAL, IMPASSIONED AND LOFTY STYLES. + ---Macaulay and De Quincey. +CHAPTER VII. RESERVE.---Thackeray. +CHAPTER VIII. CRITICISM.---Matthew Arnold and Ruskin. +CHAPTER IX. THE STYLE OF FICTION: + NARRATIVE, DESCRIPTION, AND DIALOGUE.---Dickens. +CHAPTER X. THE EPIGRAMMATIC STYLE.---Stephen Crane. +CHAPTER XI. THE POWER OF SIMPLICITY.---The Bible, Franklin, Lincoln. +CHAPTER XII. HARMONY OF STYLE.---Irving and Hawthorne. +CHAPTER XIII. IMAGINATION AND REALITY.---THE AUDIENCE. +CHAPTER XIV. THE USE OF MODELS IN WRITING FICTION. +CHAPTER XV. CONTRAST. + APPENDIX + + + +COMPOSITION + +INTRODUCTION. + +THE METHOD OF THE MASTERS + +For Learning to Write and Speak Masterly English. + +The first textbook on rhetoric which still remains to us was written by +Aristotle. He defines rhetoric as the art of writing effectively, +viewing it primarily as the art of persuasion in public speaking, +but making it include all the devices for convincing or moving the mind +of the hearer or reader. + +Aristotle's treatise is profound and scholarly, and every textbook of +rhetoric since written is little more than a restatement of some part +of his comprehensive work. It is a scientific analysis of the subject, +prepared for critics and men of a highly cultured and investigating turn +of mind, and was not originally intended to instruct ordinary persons +in the management of words and sentences for practical purposes. + +While no one doubts that an ordinary command of words may be learned, +there is an almost universal impression in the public mind, and has been +even from the time of Aristotle himself, that writing well or ill is +almost purely a matter of talent, genius, or, let us say, instinct. +It has been truly observed that the formal study of rhetoric never has +made a single successful writer, and a great many writers have succeeded +preeminently without ever having opened a rhetorical textbook. It has +not been difficult, therefore, to come to the conclusion that writing +well or ill comes by nature alone, and that all we can do is to pray for +luck,---or, at the most, to practise incessantly. Write, write, write; +and keep on writing; and destroy what you write and write again; cover +a ton of paper with ink; some day perhaps you will succeed---says the +literary adviser to the young author. And to the business man who has +letters to write and wishes to write them well, no one ever says +anything. The business man himself has begun to have a vague impression +that he would like to improve his command of language; but who is there +who even pretends to have any power to help him? There is the school +grind of "grammar and composition," and if it is kept up for enough +years, and the student happens to find any point of interest in it, some +good may result from it. That is the best that anyone has to offer. + +Some thoughtful people are convinced that writing, even business +letters, is as much a matter for professional training as music or +painting or carpentry or plumbing. That view certainly seems +reasonable. And against that is the conviction of the general public +that use of language is an art essentially different from any of the +other arts, that all people possess it more or less, and that the degree +to which they possess it depends on their general education and +environment; while the few who possess it in a preeminent degree, +do so by reason of peculiar endowments and talent, not to say genius. +This latter view, too, is full of truth. We have only to reflect +a moment to see that rhetoric as it is commonly taught can by +no possibility give actual skill. Rhetoric is a system of +scientific analysis. Aristotle was a scientist, not an artist. +Analysis tears to pieces, divides into parts, and so destroys. +The practical art of writing is wholly synthesis,---building up, +putting together, creating,---and so, of course, a matter of instinct. +All the dissection, or vivisection, in the world, would never teach a +man how to bring a human being into the world, or any other living +thing; yet the untaught instinct of all animals solves the problem of +creation every minute of the world's history. In fact, it is a favorite +comparison to speak of poems, stories, and other works of literary art +as being the children of the writer's brain; as if works of literary +art came about in precisely the same simple, yet mysterious, +way that children are conceived and brought into the world. + +Yet the comparison must not be pushed too far, and we must not lose +sight of the facts in the case. You and I were not especially endowed +with literary talent. Perhaps we are business men and are glad we are +not so endowed. But we want to write and speak better than we do, +---if possible, better than those with whom we have to compete. +Now, is there not a practical way in which we can help ourselves? +There is no thought that we shall become geniuses, or anything of the +kind. For us, why should there be any difference between plumbing and +writing? If all men were born plumbers, still some would be much better +than others, and no doubt the poor ones could improve their +work in a great measure, simply by getting hints and trying. +However, we all know that the trying will not do _very_ much good +without the hints. Now, where are the master-plumber's hints--- +or rather, the master-writer's hints, for the apprentice writer? + +No doubt some half million unsuccessful authors will jump to their feet +on the instant and offer their services. But the business man is not +convinced of their ability to help him. Nor does he expect very much +real help from the hundred thousand school teachers who teach "grammar +and composition" in the schools. The fact is, the rank and file of +teachers in the common schools have learned just enough to know that +they want help themselves. Probably there is not a more eager class +in existence than they. + +The stock advice of successful authors is, Practise. But unluckily I +have practised, and it does not seem, to do any good. "I write one +hundred long letters (or rather dictate them to my stenographer) every +day," says the business man. "My newspaper reports would fill a hundred +splendid folios," says the newspaper man, "and yet---and yet---I can't +seem to hit it when I write a novel." No, practice without guidance will +not do very much, especially if we happen to be of the huge class of the +uninspired. Our lack of genius, however, does not seem to be a reason +why we should continue utterly ignorant of the art of making ourselves +felt as well as heard when we use words. Here again use of language +differs somewhat from painting or music, for unless we had some talent +there would be no reason for attempting those arts. + +Let us attack our problem from a common-sense point of view. How have +greater writers learned to write? How do plumbers learn plumbing? + +The process by which plumbers learn is simple. They watch the +master-plumber, and then try to do likewise, and they keep at this for +two or three years. At the end they are themselves master-plumbers, +or at least masters of plumbing. + +The method by which great writers, especially great writers who didn't +start with a peculiar genius, have learned to write is much the same. +Take Stevenson, for instance: he says he "played the sedulous ape." +He studied the masterpieces of literature, and tried to imitate them. +He kept at this for several years. At the end he was a master himself. +We have reason to believe that the same was true of Thackeray, of Dumas, +of Cooper, of Balzac, of Lowell. All these men owe their skill very +largely to practice in imitation of other great writers, and often of +writers not as great as they themselves. Moreover, no one will accuse +any of these writers of not being original in the highest degree. +To imitate a dozen or fifty great writers never makes imitators; the +imitator, so called, is the person who imitates one. To imitate even +two destroys all the bad effects of imitation. + +Franklin, himself a great writer, well describes the method in his +autobiography: + +How Franklin Learned to Write. + +"A question was once, somehow or other, started between Collins and me, +of the propriety of educating the female sex in learning, and their +abilities for study. He was of the opinion that it was improper, +and that they were naturally unequal to it. I took the contrary side, +perhaps a little for dispute's sake. He was naturally more eloquent, +having a ready plenty of words, and sometimes, as I thought, I was +vanquished more by his fluency than by the strength of his reasons. +As we parted without settling the point, and were not to see one another +again for some time, I sat down to put my arguments in writing, which +I copied fair and sent to him. He answered, and I replied. +Three or four letters on a side had passed, when my father happened to +find my papers and read them. Without entering into the subject in +dispute, he took occasion to talk to me about the manner of my writing; +observed that, though I had the advantage of my antagonist in correct +spelling and pointing (which I owed to the printing-house), +I fell far short in elegance of expression, in method, and in +perspicuity, of which he convinced me by several instances. +I saw the justice of his remarks, and thence grew more attentive to the +manner in writing, and determined to endeavor an improvement. + +"About this time I met with an odd volume of the _Spectator_. +It was the third. I had never before seen any of them. I bought it, +read it over and over, and was much delighted with it. I thought the +writing excellent, and wished it possible to imitate it. With this view +I took some of the papers, and making short hints of the sentiments in +each sentence, laid them by a few days, and then, without looking at the +book, tried to complete the papers again, by expressing each hinted +sentiment at length, and as fully as it had been expressed before, +in any suitable words that should come to hand. Then I compared my +_Spectator_ with the original, discovered some of my faults, and +corrected them. But I found I wanted a stock of words, or a readiness +in recollecting and using them, which I thought I should have acquired +before that time if I had gone on making verses, since the continued +search for words of the same import, but of different length to suit the +measure, or of different sound for the rhyme, would have laid me under +a constant necessity of searching for variety, and also have tended to +fix that variety in mind, and make me master of it. Therefore I took +some of the tales and turned them into verse; and, after a time, +when I had pretty well forgotten the prose, turned them back again. + +"I also sometimes jumbled my collection of hints into confusion, and +after some weeks endeavored to reduce them into the best order before +I began to form the full sentences and complete the subject. +This was to teach me method in the arrangement of the thoughts. +By comparing my work with the original, I discovered my faults and +amended them; but I sometimes had the pleasure of fancying, that, +in certain particulars of small import, I had been fortunate enough to +improve the method or the language, and this encouraged me to think that +I might possibly in time come to be a tolerable English writer; +of which I was extremely ambitious. My time for these exercises and for +reading was at night, after work, or before it began in the morning, +or on Sundays, when I contrived to be in the printing-house alone, +evading as much as I could the common attendance on public +worship which my father used to exact of me when I was under +his care, and which indeed I still continued to consider a duty, +though I could not, as it seemed to me, afford time to practise it." + + +A Practical Method. + +Aristotle's method, though perfect in theory, has failed in practice. +Franklin's method is too elementary and undeveloped to be of general +use. Taking Aristotle's method (represented by our standard textbooks +on rhetoric) as our guide, let us develop Franklin's method into a +system as varied and complete as Aristotle's. We shall then have a +method at the same time practical and scholarly. + +We have studied the art of writing words correctly (spelling) and +writing sentences correctly (grammar).* Now we wish to learn to write +sentences, paragraphs, and entire compositions _effectively_. + + *See the earlier volumes in this series. + +First, we must form the habit of observing the meanings and values of +words, the structure of sentences, of paragraphs, and of entire +compositions as we read standard literature---just as we have been +trying to form the habit of observing the spelling of words, +and the logical relationships of words in sentences. In order that we +may know what to look for in our observation we must analyse a _little,_ +but we will not imagine that we shall learn to do a thing by endless +talk about doing it. + +Second, we will practise in the imitation of selections from master +writers, in every case fixing our attention on the rhetorical element +each particular writer best illustrates. This imitation will be +continued until we have mastered the subject toward which we are +especially directing our attention, and all the subjects which go to the +making of an accomplished writer. + +Third, we will finally make independent compositions for ourselves with +a view to studying and expressing the stock of ideas which we have to +express. This will involve a study of the people on whom we wish to +impress our ideas, and require that we constantly test the results of +our work to see what the actual effect on the mind of our audience is. + +Let us now begin our work. + + +CHAPTER I. + +DICTION. + +"Diction" is derived from the Latin _dictio,_ a word, and in rhetoric +it denotes choice of words. In the study of grammar we have learned +that all words have logical relationships in sentences, and in some +cases certain forms to agree with particular relationships. We have +also taken note of "idioms," in which words are used with peculiar values. + +On the subject of Idiom Arlo Bates in his book "On Writing English" has +some very forcible remarks. Says he, "An idiom is the personal---if the +word may be allowed---the personal idiosyncrasy of a language. +It is a method of speech wherein the genius of the race making the +language shows itself as differing from that of all other peoples. +What style is to the man, that is idiom to the race. It is the +crystalization in verbal forms of peculiarities of race temperament--- +perhaps even of race eccentricities . . . . . English which is not +idiomatic becomes at once formal and lifeless, as if the tongue were +already dead and its remains embalmed in those honorable sepulchres, the +philological dictionaries. On the other hand, English which goes too +far, and fails of a delicate distinction between what is really and +essentially idiomatic and what is colloquial, becomes at once vulgar and +utterly wanting in that subtle quality of dignity for which there is no +better term than _distinction_."* + + *As examples of idioms Mr. Bates gives the following: A ten-foot +(instead of ten-feet) pole; the use of the "flat adverb" +or adjective form in such expressions as "speak loud." "walk fast," +"the sun shines hot," "drink deep;" and the use of prepositions +adverbially at the end of a sentence, as in "Where are you +going to?" "The subject which I spoke to you about," etc. + +We therefore see that idiom is not only a thing to justify, +but something to strive for with all our might. The use of it gives +character to our selection of words, and better than anything else +illustrates what we should be looking for in forming our habit of +observing the meanings and uses of words as we read. + +Another thing we ought to note in our study of words is the _suggestion_ +which many words carry with them in addition to their obvious meaning. +For instance, consider what a world of ideas the mere name of Lincoln +or Washington or Franklin or Napoleon or Christ calls up. On their face +they are but names of men, or possibly sometimes of places; but we +cannot utter the name of Lincoln without thinking of the whole terrible +struggle of our Civil War; the name of Washington, without thinking of +nobility, patriotism, and self-sacrifice in a pure and great man; +Napoleon, without thinking of ambition and blood; of Christ, without +lifting our eyes to the sky in an attitude of worship and thanksgiving +to God. So common words carry with them a world of suggested thought. +The word _drunk_ calls up a picture horrid and disgusting; _violet_ +suggests blueness, sweetness, and innocence; _oak_ suggests sturdy +courage and strength; _love_ suggests all that is dear in the histories +of our own lives. Just what will be suggested depends largely on the +person who hears the word, and in thinking of suggestion we must reflect +also on the minds of the persons to whom we speak. + +The best practical exercise for the enlargement of one's vocabulary is +translating, or writing verses. Franklin commends verse-writing, but +it is hardly mechanical enough to be of value in all cases. At the same +time, many people are not in a position to translate from a foreign +language; and even if they were, the danger of acquiring foreign idioms +and strange uses of words is so great as to offset the positive gain. +But we can easily exercise ourselves in translating one kind of English +into another, as poetry into prose, or an antique style into modern. +To do this the constant use of the English dictionary will be necessary, +and incidentally we shall learn a great deal about words. + +As an example of this method of study, we subjoin a series of notes on +the passage quoted from Franklin in the last chapter. In our study we +constantly ask ourselves, "Does this use of the word sound perfectly +natural?" At every point we appeal to our _instinct,_ and in time come +to trust it to a very great extent. We even train it. To train our +instinct for words is the first great object of our study. + + +Notes on Franklin. +(See "How Franklin Learned to Write" in preceding chapter.) + +1. "The female sex" includes animals as well as human beings, +and in modern times we say simply "women," though when Franklin wrote +"the female sex" was considered an elegant phrase. + +2. Note that "their" refers to the collective noun "sex." + +3. If we confine the possessive case to persons we would not say +"for dispute's sake," and indeed "for the sake of dispute" +is just as good, if not better, in other respects. + +4. "Ready plenty" is antique usage for "ready abundance." +Which is the stronger? + +5. "Reasons" in the phrase "strength of his reasons" is a simple and +forcible substitute for "arguments." + +6. "Copied fair" shows an idiomatic use of an adjective form which +perhaps can be justified, but the combination has given way in these +days to "made a fair copy of." + +7. Observe that Franklin uses "pointing" for _punctuation,_ +and "printing-house" for _printing-office_. + +8. The old idiom "endeavor at improvement" has been changed to +_endeavor to improve,_ or _endeavor to make improvement_. + +9. Note how the use of the word _sentiment_ has changed. +We would be more likely to say _ideas_ in a connection like this. + +10. For "laid them by," say _laid them away_. + +11. For "laid me under . . . . . . necessity" we might say +_compelled me,_ or _made it necessary that I should_. + +12. "Amended" is not so common now as _corrected_. + +13. For "evading" (attendance at public worship) we should now say +_avoiding_. We "evade" more subtle things than attendance at church. + +There are many other slight differences in the use of words which the +student will observe. It would be an excellent exercise to write out, +not only this passage, but a number of others from the Autobiography, +in the most perfect of simple modern English. + +We may also take a modern writer like Kipling and translate his style +into simple, yet attractive and good prose; and the same process may be +applied to any of the selections in this book, simply trying to find +equivalent and if possible equally good words to express the same ideas, +or slight variations of the same ideas. Robinson Crusoe, Bacon's +Essays, and Pilgrim's Progress are excellent books to translate into +modern prose. The chief thing is to do the work slowly and thoughtfully. + + +CHAPTER II. + +FIGURES OF SPEECH. + +It is not an easy thing to pass from the logical precision of grammar +to the vague suggestiveness of words that call up whole troops of ideas +not contained in the simple idea for which a word stands. +Specific idioms are themselves at variance with grammar and logic, +and the grammarians are forever fighting them; but when we go into the +vague realm of poetic style, the logical mind is lost at once. +And yet it is more important to use words pregnant with meaning than to +be strictly grammatical. We must reduce grammar to an instinct that +will guard us against being contradictory or crude in our construction +of sentences, and then we shall make that instinct harmonize with all +the other instincts which a successful writer must have. When grammar +is treated (as we have tried to treat it) as "logical instinct," +then there can be no conflict with other instincts. + +The suggestiveness of words finds its specific embodiment in the so +called "figures of speech." We must examine them a little, +because when we come to such an expression as "The kettle boils" after +a few lessons in tracing logical connections, we are likely to say +without hesitation that we have found an error, an absurdity. +On its face it is an absurdity to say "The kettle boils" when we mean +"The water in the kettle boils." But reflection will show us that we +have merely condensed our words a little. Many idioms are curious +condensations, and many figures of speech may be explained as natural +and easy condensations. We have already seen such a condensation in +"more complete" for "more nearly complete." + +The following definitions and illustrations are for reference. +We do not need to know the names of any of these figures in order to use +them, and it is altogether probable that learning to name and analyse +them will to some extent make us too self-conscious to use them at all. +At the same time, they will help us to explain things that otherwise +might puzzle us in our study. + +1. Simile. The simplest figure of speech is the _simile_. +It is nothing more or less than a direct comparison by the use of such +words as _like_ and _as_. + +_Examples:_ Unstable as water, thou shalt not excel. How often would I +have gathered my children together, as a hen doth gather her broodunder +her wings! The Kingdom of God is like a grain of mustard seed, +is like leaven hidden in three measures of meal. Their lives glide on +like rivers that water the woodland. Mercy droppeth as the gentle rain +from heaven upon the place beneath. + +2. Metaphor. A _metaphor_ is an implied or assumed comparison. +The words _like_ and _as_ are no longer used, but the construction of the +sentence is such that the comparison is taken for granted and the thing +to which comparison is made is treated as if it were the thing itself. + +_Examples_: The valiant taste of death but once. Stop my house's ears. +His strong mind reeled under the blow. The compressed passions of a +century exploded in the French Revolution. It was written at a white +heat. He can scarcely keep the wolf from the door. Strike while the +iron is hot. Murray's eloquence never blazed into sudden flashes, +but its clear, placid, and mellow splendor was never overclouded. + +The metaphor is the commonest figure of speech. Our language is a sort +of burying-ground of faded metaphors. Look up in the dictionary the +etymology of such words as _obvious, ruminating, insuperable, dainty, +ponder,_ etc., and you will see that they got their present meanings +through metaphors which have now so faded that we no longer recognize them. + +Sometimes we get into trouble by introducing two comparisons in the same +sentence or paragraph, one of which contradicts the other. +Thus should we say "Pilot us through the wilderness of life" we +would introduce two figures of speech, that of a ship being +piloted and that of a caravan in a wilderness being guided, +which would contradict each other. This is called a "mixed metaphor." + +3. Allusion. Sometimes a metaphor consists in a reference or allusion +to a well known passage in literature or a fact of history. +_Examples_: Daily, with souls that cringe and plot, we Sinais climb and +know it not. (Reference to Moses on Mt. Sinai). He received the lion's +share of the profits. (Reference to the fable of the lion's share). +Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed by a kiss. (Reference to the +betrayal of Christ by Judas). + +4. Personification. Sometimes the metaphor consists in speaking of +inanimate things or animals as if they were human. This is called the +figure of _personification_. It raises the lower to the dignity of the +higher, and so gives it more importance. + +_Examples_: Earth felt the wound. Next Anger rushed, his eyes on fire. +The moping Owl doth to the Moon complain. True Hope is swift and flies +with swallow's wings. Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, as to be +hated needs but to be seen. Speckled Vanity will sicken soon and die. + +(Note in the next to the last example that the purely impersonal is +raised, not to human level, but to that of the brute creation. +Still the figure is called personification). + +5. Apostrophe. When inanimate things, or the absent, whether +living or dead, are addressed as if they were living and +present, we have a figure of speech called _apostrophe_. +This figure of speech gives animation to the style. _Examples_: +O Rome, Rome, thou hast been a tender nurse to me. Blow, +winds, and crack your cheeks. Take her, O Bridegroom, old and gray! + +6. Antithesis. The preceding figures have been based on likeness. +_Antithesis_ is a figure of speech in which opposites are contrasted, +or one thing is set against another. Contrast is almost as powerful as +comparison in making our ideas clear and vivid. + +_Examples_: (Macaulay, more than any other writer, habitually uses +antitheses). Saul, seeking his father's asses, found himself turned +into a king. Fit the same intellect to a man and it is a bowstring; +to a woman and it is a harp-string. I thought that this man had been a +lord among wits, but I find that he is only a wit among lords. +Better to reign in hell than to serve in heaven. For fools rush in +where angels fear to tread. + +7. Metonymy. Besides the figures of likeness and unlikeness, +there are others of quite a different kind. _Metonymy_ consists in the +substitution for the thing itself of something closely associated with +it, as the sign or symbol for the thing symbolized, the cause for the +effect, the instrument for the user of it, the container for the thing +contained, the material for the thing made of it, etc. + +_Examples_: He is a slave to the _cup_. Strike for your _altars_ and +your _fires_. The _kettle boils,_ He rose and addressed the _chair_. +The _palace_ should not scorn the _cottage_. The watched _pot_ never +boils. The red _coats_ turned and fled. _Iron_ bailed and _lead_ +rained upon the enemy. The _pen_ is mightier than the _sword_. + +8. Synecdoche. There is a special kind of metonymy which is given the +dignity of a separate name. It is the substitution of the part for the +whole or the whole for the part. The value of it consists in putting +forward the thing best known, the thing that will appeal most powerfully +to the thought and feeling. + +_Examples_: Come and trip it as you go, on the light fantastic _toe_. +American commerce is carried in British _bottoms_. He bought a hundred +_head_ of cattle. It is a village of five hundred _chimneys_. +He cried, "A sail, a sail!" The busy _fingers_ toll on. + +Exercise. + +Indicate the figure of speech used in each of the following sentences: + +1. Come, seeling Night, scarf up the tender eye of pitiful Day. + +2. The coat does not make the man. + +3. From two hundred observatories in Europe and America, +the glorious artillery of science nightly assaults the skies. + +4. The lamp is burning. + +5. Blow, blow, thou winter wind, thou art not so unkind as man's +ingratitude. + +6. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff. + +7. Laughter and tears are meant to turn the wheels of the machinery of +sensibility; one is wind power, the other water power. + +8. When you are an anvil, hold you still; when you are a hammer, +strike your fill. + +9. Save the ermine from pollution. + +10. There is a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood, +leads on to fortune; omitted, all the voyage of their lives is bound in +shallows and in miseries. + +Turn each of the above sentences into plain language. Key: (the +numbers in parantheses indicate the figure of speech in the sentences as +numbered above). 1. (4); 2. (7); 3. (2); 4. (7); 5. (5); 6. (1); +7. (2 and 6); 8. (2 and 6); 9. (7); 10. (2). + + +CHAPTER III. + +STYLE. + +There have been many definitions of style; but the disputes of the +rhetoricians do not concern us. _Style,_ as the word is commonly +understood, is the choice and arrangement of words in sentences and of +sentences in paragraphs as that arrangement is effective in expressing +our meaning and convincing our readers or hearers. A _good style_ is +one that is effective, and a _bad style_ is one which fails of doing +what the writer wishes to do. There are as many ways of expressing +ideas as there are ways of combining words (that is, an infinite number), +and as many styles as there are writers. None of us wishes precisely to +get the style of any one else; but we want to form a good one of our own. + +We will briefly note the elements mentioned by those who analyse style, +and then pass on to concrete examples. + +Arrangement of words in a sentence. The first requirement is that the +arrangement of words should be logical, that is grammatical. +The rhetorical requirements are that--- + +1. One sentence, with one principal subject and one principal +predicate, should try to express one thought and no more. +If we try to mix two thoughts in the same sentence, we shall come to +grief. Likewise, we shall fail if we attempt to mix two subjects in the +same paragraph or composition. + +2. The words in the sentence should be arranged that those which are +emphatic will come in the emphatic places. The beginning and the end +of a sentence are emphatic positions, the place before any mark of +punctuation is usually emphatic, and any word not in its usual place +with relation to the word it modifies grammatically is especially +emphatic. We must learn the emphatic positions by experience, +and then our instinct will guide us. The whole subject is one of the +relative values of words. + +3. The words in a sentence should follow each other in such a simple, +logical order that one leads on to another, and the whole meaning flows +like a stream of water. The reader should never be compelled to stop +and look back to see how the various ideas "hang together." This is the +rhetorical side of the logical relationship which grammar requires. +Not only must grammatical rules be obeyed, but logical instinct must be +satisfied with the linking of idea to idea to make a complete thought. +And the same law holds good in linking sentences into paragraphs and +paragraphs into whole compositions. + +These three requirements have been named Unity, Mass, and Coherence. + +The variations in sentences due to emphasis have given rise to a rhetorical +division of sentences into two classes, called loose and periodic. + +A loose sentence is one in which words follow each other in their +natural order, the modifiers of the verb of course following the verb. +Often many of these modifiers are not strictly necessary to complete the +sense and a period may be inserted at some point before the close of the +sentence without destroying its grammatical completeness. +The addition of phrases and clauses not strictly required constitutes +_looseness_ of sentence structure. + +A periodic sentence is one which is not grammatically or logically +complete till the end. If the sentence is somewhat long, +the mind is held in suspense until the last word is uttered. + +_Example_. The following is a loose sentence: "I stood on the bridge +at midnight, as the clocks were striking the hour." The same sentence +becomes periodic by transposition of the less important predicate +modifiers, thus---"At midnight, as the clocks were striking the hour, +I stood on the bridge." + +It will be observed that the periodic form is adapted to oratory and +similar forms of eloquent writing in which the mind of the reader or hearer +is keyed up to a high pitch of expectancy; while the loose sentence is the +one common in all simple narrative and unexcited statement. + +Qualities of Style. Writers on rhetoric note three essential qualities +of style, namely _clearness, force,_ and _elegance_. + +Clearness of style is the direct result of clearness and simplicity of +thought. Unless we have mastered our thought in every particular before +trying to express it, confusion is inevitable. At the same time, +if we have mastered our thought perfectly, and yet express it in +language not understood by the persons to whom and for whom we write or +speak, our style will not be clear to them, and we shall have failed in +conveying our thoughts as much as if we had never mastered them. + +Force is required to produce an effect on the mind of the hearer. +He must not only understand what we say, but have some emotion in regard +to it; else he will have forgotten our words before we have fairly +uttered them. Force is the appeal which words make to the feeling, +as clearness is the appeal they make to the understanding. + +Elegance is required only in writing which purports to be good +literature. It is useful but not required in business letters, or in +newspaper writing; but it is absolutely essential to higher literary +art. It is the appeal which the words chosen and the arrangement +selected make to our sense of beauty. That which is not beautiful has +no right to be called "literature," and a style which does not possess +the subtle elements of beauty is not a strictly "literary" style. + +Most of us by persistent effort can conquer the subject of clearness. +Even the humblest person should not open his mouth or take up his pen +voluntarily unless he can express himself clearly; and if he has any +thought to express that is worth expressing, and wants to express it, +he will sooner or later find a satisfactory way of expressing it. + +The thing that most of us wish to find out is, how to write with force. +Force is attained in various ways, summarized as follows: + +1. By using words which are in themselves expressive. + +2. By placing those words in emphatic positions in the sentence. + +3. By varying the length and form of successive sentences so that the +reader or hearer shall never be wearied by monotony. + +4. By figures of speech, or constant comparison and illustration, +and making words suggest ten times as much as they say. + +5. By keeping persistently at one idea, though from every possible +point of view and without repetition of any kind, till that idea has +sunk into the mind of the hearer and has been fully comprehended. + +Force is destroyed by the---Vice of repetition with slight change or +addition; Vice of monotony in the words, sentences or paragraphs; +Vice of over-literalness and exactness; Vice of trying to emphasize more +than one thing at a time; Vice of using many words with little meaning; +or words barren of suggestiveness and destitute of figures of speech; +and its opposite, the Vice of overloading the style with so many figures +of speech and so much suggestion and variety as to disgust or confuse. +These vices have been named tautology, dryness, and "fine writing." +Without doubt the simplest narration is the hardest kind of composition +to write, chiefly because we do not realize how hard it is. The first +necessity for a student is to realize the enormous requirements for a +perfect mastery of style. The difficulties will not appear to the one +who tries original composition by way of practice, since there is no way +of "checking up" his work. He may (or may not) be aware that what he +is doing does not produce the effect that the writing of a master +produces; but if he does realize it, he will certainly fail to discover +wherein his own weakness consists. + +The only effective way of making the discovery is that described by +Franklin, and there is no masterpiece of literature better to practise +upon than Ruskin's "The King of the Golden River." Unlike much +beautiful and powerful writing, it is so simple that a child can +understand it. Complete comprehension of the meaning is absolutely +necessary before any skill in expressing that meaning can be looked for, +and an attempt to imitate that which is not perfectly clear will not +give skill. And with this simplicity there is consummate art. Ruskin +uses nearly all the devices described in the preceding pages. Let us +look at some of these in the first three paragraphs of Ruskin's story: + +In a secluded and mountainous part of Styria, there was, in old time, +a valley of most surprising and luxuriant fertility. It was surrounded +on all sides by steep and rocky mountains rising into peaks which were +always covered with snow and from which a number of torrents descended +in constant cataracts. One of these fell westward, over the face of a +crag so high that, when the sun had set to everything else, and all +below was darkness, his beams still shone full upon this waterfall, +so that it looked like a shower of gold. It was, therefore, called by +the people of the neighborhood the Golden River{.} It was strange that +none of these streams fell into the valley itself. They all descended +on the other side of the mountains, and wound through broad plains and +by populous cities. But the clouds were drawn so constantly to the +snowy hills, and rested so softly in the circular hollow, that, in time +of drought and heat, when all the country round was burnt up, +there was still rain in the little valley; and its crops were so heavy, +and its hay so high, and its apples so red, and its grapes so blue, +and its wine so rich, and its honey so sweet, that it was a marvel to +every one who beheld it, and was commonly called the Treasure Valley. + +The whole of this little valley belonged to three brothers, called +Schwartz, Hans, and Gluck. Schwartz and Hans, the two elder brothers, +were very ugly men, with overwhelming eyebrows and small, dull eyes, +which were always half shut, so that you couldn't see into them, and +always fancied they saw very far into _you_. They lived by farming the +Treasure Valley, and very good farmers they were. They killed +everything that did not pay for its eating. They shot the blackbirds, +because they pecked the fruit; and killed the hedge-hogs, lest they +should suck the cows; they poisoned the crickets for eating the crumbs +in the kitchen; and smothered the cicadas, which used to sing all summer +in the lime-trees. They worked their servants without any wages, till +they could not work any more, and then quarrelled with them and turned +them out of doors without paying them. It would have been very odd, +if, with such a farm, and such a system of farming, they hadn't got very +rich; and very rich they did get. + +They generally contrived to keep their corn by them till it was very +dear, and then sell it for twice its value; they had heaps of gold lying +about on their floors, yet it was never known that they had given so +much as a penny or a crust in charity; they never went to mass; grumbled +perpetually at paying tithes; and were, in a word, of so cruel and +grinding a temper, as to receive from all those with whom they had any +dealings, the nickname of the "Black Brothers." + +The youngest brother, Gluck, was as completely opposed, in both +appearance and character, to his seniors as could possibly be imagined +or desired. He was not above twelve years old, fair, blue-eyed, +and kind in temper to every living thing. He did not, of course, +agree particularly well with his brothers, or rather they did not agree +with him. He was usually appointed to the honorable office of turnspit, +when there was anything to roast, which was not often; for, to do the +brothers justice, they were hardly less sparing upon themselves than +upon other people. At other times he used to clean the shoes, +the floors, and sometimes the plates, occasionally getting what was left +on them, by way of encouragement, and a wholesome quantity of dry blows, +by way of education. + +The author starts out with a periodic sentence, beginning with a +predicate modifier and placing the subject last. This serves to fix our +attention from the first. The arrangement also throws the emphasis on +"surprising and luxuriant fertility." The last word is the essential one +in conveying the meaning, though a modifier of the simple subject noun +"valley." The next sentence is a loose one. After catching the +attention of the reader, we must not burden his mind too much till he +gets interested. We must move along naturally and easily, and this +Ruskin does. The third sentence is periodic again. We are now awake +and able to bear transposition for the sake of emphasis. Ruskin first +emphasizes "so high," the adjective being placed after its noun, and +then leads the way to the chief emphasis, which comes on the word +"gold," the last in the sentence. There is also an antithesis between +the darkness below and the light on the peak which is bright enough to +turn the water into gold. This also helps to emphasize "gold." We have +now had three long sentences and the fourth sentence, which concludes +this portion of the subject, is a short one. "Golden River" is +emphasized by being thrown quite to the end, a little out of +its natural order, which would have been immediately after the verb. +The emphasis on "gold" in the preceding sentence prepared the way for +the emphasis on "Golden River;" and by looking back we see how every +word has been easily, gracefully leading up to this conclusion. + +Ordinarily this would be the end of a paragraph. We may call the first +four sentences a "sub-paragraph." The capital letters in "Golden River" +mark the division to the eye, and the emphasis marks the division to the +mind. We do not begin with a new paragraph, simply because the subject +that follows is more closely connected with the first four sentences +than with the paragraph which follows. + +Beginning with "It was strange that none of these streams" etc., +we have two rather short, simple, loose sentences, which introduce us +in a most natural manner to the subject to be presented, and prepare the +way for a very long, somewhat complicated sentence, full of antitheses, +ending with the emphatic words "Treasure Valley." These two words are +to this part of the paragraph what the words "Golden River" +were to the first part; and besides, we see before us the simple, +beautiful picture of the Golden River above the Treasure Valley, +presented in words whose power and grace we cannot fail to appreciate. + +The second paragraph goes forward in the most matter-of-course and easy +way. The first sentence is short, but the second is longer, with a +pleasing variation of long and short phrases, and it ends with a +contrast marked to the eye by the italic words "them" and "you." +The next two sentences are quite short, and variety is given by the +simple transposition in "and very good farmers they were." +This is no more than a graceful little twirl to relieve any possible +monotony. The fourth sentence in the paragraph is also very short, +purposely made so for emphasis. It gives in a word what the following +long sentence presents in detail. And observe the constant variation +in the form of this long sentence: in the first clause we have +"They shot . . . . because," in the second, "and killed . . . . lest" +(the subject of killed being implied, but its place supplied by and), +while in the third, the subject of the verb is again expressed, +and then we have the prepositional form "for eating" instead of the +conjunction and verb in a subordinate sentence. Moreover we have three +different verbs meaning the same thing---shot, killed, poisoned. +By the variation Ruskin avoids monotony; yet by the similarity he gains +emphasis. The likeness of the successive clauses is as important as +their difference. There is also in each an implied contrast, +between the severe penalty and the slight offense. By implication each +word gives an added touch to the picture of hardness and cruelty of the +two brothers. Ruskin finds a dozen different ways of illustrating the +important statement he made in the second sentence (the first sentence +being merely introductory). And at the end of the paragraph we have the +whole summed up in a long sentence full of deliberate rather than +implied contrasts, which culminate in the two words "Black Brothers." + +It is easy to see that much of the strength of these two paragraphs lies +in the continued and repeated use of contrast. The first paragraph, +with its beautiful description of the "Golden River" and the +"Treasure Valley," is itself a perfect contrast to the second, +with its "Black Brothers" and all their meanness; and we have already +seen that the second paragraph itself is filled with antitheses. + +In these two paragraphs we have but two simple ideas, that of the place +with all its beauty, and that of the brothers with all their ugliness. +Ruskin might have spoken of them in two sentences, or even in one; but +as a matter of fact, in order to make us think long enough about these +two things, he takes them one at a time and gives us glints, like the +reflections from the different facets of a diamond slowly turned about +in the light. Each is almost like the preceding, yet a little +different; and when we have seen all in succession, we understand each +better, and the whole subject is vividly impressed on our minds. + +In the third paragraph we have still another contrast in the description +of little Gluck. This paragraph is shorter, but the same devices are +used that we found in the preceding. + +In these three paragraphs the following points are well illustrated: + +1. Each paragraph develops one subject, which has a natural relation to +what precedes and what follows; + +2. Each idea is presented in a succession of small details which follow +in easy, logical order one after the other; + +3. There is constant variety and contrast, difference with likeness and +likeness with difference. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +HUMOR: + +Addison, Stevenson, Lamb. + +Mere correctness in sentence structure (grammar) may be purely +scientific; but the art of rhetoric is so wrapped up with human emotion +that the study of human nature counts for infinitely more than the +theory of arrangement, figures of speech, etc., Unless the student has +some idea how the human mind works (his own mind and the minds of his +readers), he will make little or no progress in his study of this +subject. Professional teachers ignore this almost completely, and that +is one reason why they so often fail; and it is also a reason why persons +who do not go to them for training so often succeed: the latter class +finds that knowledge of the human heart makes up for many deficiencies. + +The first important consideration is _good nature_. It is not often +that we can use words to compel; we must win; and it is an old proverb +that "more flies are caught with molasses than with vinegar." The novice +in writing is always too serious, even to morbidness, too "fierce," too +arrogant and domineering in his whole thought and feeling. Sometimes +such a person compels attention, but not often. The universal way Is +to attract, win over, please. Most of the arts of formal rhetoric are +arts of making language pleasing; but what is the value of knowing the +theory in regard to these devices when the spirit of pleasing is absent? + +We must go at our work gently and good-naturedly, and then there will +be no straining or morbidness or repulsiveness of manner. +But all this finds its consummation in what is called _humor_. + +Humor is a thing that can be cultivated, even learned; and it is one of +the most important things in the whole art of writing. + +We will not attempt to say just what humor is. The effort could bring +no results of value. Suffice it to say that there is implanted in most +of us a sense of the ridiculous---of the incongruous. If a thing is a +little too big or a little too small for the place it is intended to +fill, for some occult reason we regard it as funny. The difference of +a hair seems to tickle us, whereas a great difference does not produce +that kind of effect at all. + +We may secure humor by introducing into our writing the slightest +possible exaggeration which will result in the slightest possible +incongruity. Of course this presupposes that we understand the facts +in a most thorough and delicate way. Our language is not precisely +representative of things as they are, but it proves better than any +other language that we know just what the truth is. + +Humor is the touchstone by which we ought to try ourselves and our work. + +It will prevent our getting very far away from what is normal and natural. + +So much for its effect on ourselves. To our readers it proves +that we are good-natured, honest, and determined to be agreeable. +Besides, it makes an appeal to them on their weakest side. +Few people can resist a joke. There is never any occasion for them +to cultivate resistance. So there is no more certain way by which we +can get quickly and inevitably into their confidence and fellowship. +When once we are on good terms with them they will listen to us while +we say anything we may have to say. Of course we shall often have many +serious things to say; but humor will open the way for us to say them +better than any other agency. + +It is to be noted that humor is slighter and more delicate than any +other form of wit, and that it is used by serious and accomplished +writers. It is the element of success in nearly all essay-writing, +especially in letters; and the business man will find it his most powerful +weapon in advertising. Its value is to be seen by uses so various. + +The student is invited to study three examples of humor. The first is +Addison's "Advice in Love." It is obvious that this subject could not +very well be treated in any other way. It is too delicate for anything +but delicate humor, for humor can handle subjects which would be +impossible for any other kind of language. Besides, the sentiment would +be likely to nauseate us by its excess or its morbidity, except for the +healthy salt of humor. Humor makes this essay instructive and interesting. + +Next we present two letters from Stevenson. +Here we see that humor makes commonplace things interesting. +How deadly dull would be the details Stevenson gives in these letters +but for the enlivenment of humor! By what other method could anything +worth reading have been gotten out of the facts? + +The selection from Charles Lamb is an illustration of how humor may save +the utterly absurd from being unreadable. Lamb had absolutely nothing +to say when he sat down to write this letter; and yet he contrived to be +amusing, if not actually interesting. + +The master of humor can draw upon the riches of his own mind, and +thereby embellish and enliven any subject he may desire to write upon. + +Of these three selections, the easiest to imitate is Addison. +First, we should note the old-fashioned phrasing and choice of words, +and perhaps translate Addison into simple, idiomatic, modern English, +altering as little as possible. We note that the letter offered by +Addison is purposely filled with all the faults of rhetoric which we +never find in his own writing. Addison's humorous imitation of these +faults gives us twice as good a lesson as any possible example of real +faults made by some writer unconsciously. + +In Stevenson's letters we see the value of what has been called +"the magic word." Nearly the whole of his humor consists in selecting +a word which suggests ten times as much as it expresses on its face. +There is a whole world of fun in this suggestion. Sometimes it is +merely commonplace punning, as when he speaks of the "menial" of +"high Dutch extraction" as yet "only partially extracted;" and again it +is the delicate insinuation contained in spelling "Parc" with a _c,_ +for that one letter gives us an entire foreign atmosphere, and the +disproportion between the smallness of the letter and the extent of the +suggestiveness touches our sense of the ridiculous. + +The form of study of these passages may be slightly altered. +Instead of making notes and rewriting exactly as the original authors +wrote, we should keep the original open before us and try +to produce something slightly different in the same vein. +We may suppose the letter on love written by a man instead of +by a woman. Of course its character will be quite different, +though exactly the same characteristics will be illustrated. +This change will require an alteration in almost every sentence of the +essay. Our effort should be to see how little change in the wording +will be required by this one change in subject; though of course we +should always modernize the phrasing. In the case of Stevenson, +we may suppose that we are writing a similar letter to friends, but from +some other city than San Francisco. We may imitate Lamb by describing +our feelings when afflicted by some other ailment than a cold. + + +ADVICE IN LOVE. + +By Joseph Addison. + +It is an old observation, which has been made of politicians who would +rather ingratiate, themselves with their sovereign, than promote his +real service, that they accommodate their counsels to his inclinations, +and advise him to such actions only as his heart is naturally set upon. +The privy-counsellor of one in love must observe the same conduct, +unless he would forfeit the friendship of the person who desires his +advice. I have known several odd cases of this nature. Hipparchus was +going to marry a common woman, but being resolved to do nothing without +the advice of his friend Philander, he consulted him upon the occasion. +Philander told him his mind freely, and represented his mistress to him +in such strong colors, that the next morning he received a challenge for +his pains, and before twelve o'clock was run through the body by the man +who had asked his advice. Celia was more prudent on the like occasion; +she desired Leonilla to give her opinion freely upon a young fellow who +made his addresses to her. Leonilla, to oblige her, told her with great +frankness, that she looked upon him as one of the most worthless--- +Celia, foreseeing what a character she was to expect, begged her not to +go on, for that she had been privately married to him above a fortnight. + +The truth of it is a woman seldom asks advice before she has +bought her wedding clothes. When she has made her own choice, +for form's sake she sends a _conge d'elire_ to her friends. + +If we look into the secret springs and motives that set people at work +on these occasions, and put them upon asking advice, which they never +intend to take; I look upon it to be none of the least, that they are +incapable of keeping a secret which is so very pleasing to them. +A girl longs to tell her confidant that she hopes to be married in a +little time, and, in order to talk of the pretty fellow that dwells so +much in her thoughts, asks her gravely, what she would advise her to in +a case of so much difficulty. Why else should Melissa, who had not a +thousand pounds in the world, go into every quarter of the town to ask +her acquaintance whether they would advise her to take Tom Townly, +that made his addresses to her with an estate of five thousand a year? +'Tis very pleasant on this occasion to hear the lady propose her doubts, +and to see the pains she is at to get over them. + +I must not here omit a practice that is in use among the vainer part of +our own sex, who will often ask a friend's advice, in relation to a +fortune whom they are never likely to come at. Will Honeycomb, who is +now on the verge of threescore, took me aside not long since, and ask +me in his most serious look, whether I would advise him to marry my Lady +Betty Single, who, by the way, is one of the greatest fortunes about +town. I stared him full in the face upon so strange a question; +upon which he immediately gave me an inventory of her jewels and estate, +adding, that he was resolved to do nothing in a matter of such +consequence without my approbation. Finding he would have an answer, +I told him, if he could get the lady's consent, he had mine. +This is about the tenth match which, to my knowledge, Will has consulted +his friends upon, without ever opening his mind to the party herself. + +I have been engaged in this subject by the following letter, which comes +to me from some notable young female scribe, who, by the contents of it, +seems to have carried matters so far that she is ripe for asking advice; +but as I would not lose her good-will, nor forfeit the reputation which +I have with her for wisdom, I shall only communicate the letter to the +public, without returning any answer to it. + + "Mr. Spectator, + Now, sir, the thing is this: Mr. Shapely is the prettiest gentleman +about town. He is very tall, but not too tall neither. He dances like +an angel. His mouth is made I do not know how, but it is the prettiest +that I ever saw in my life. He is always laughing, for he has an +infinite deal of wit. If you did but see how he rolls his stockings! +He has a thousand pretty fancies, and I am sure, if you saw him, you +would like him, he is a very good scholar, and can talk Latin as fast +as English. I wish you could but see him dance. Now you must +understand poor Mr. Shapely has no estate; but how can he help that, +you know? And yet my friends are so unreasonable as to be always +teasing me about him, because he has no estate: but I am sure he has +that that is better than an estate; for he is a good-natured, ingenious, +modest, civil, tall, well-bred, handsome man, and I am obliged to him +for his civilities ever since I saw him. I forgot to tell you that he +has black eyes, and looks upon me now and then as if he had tears in +them. And yet my friends are so unreasonable, that they would have me +be uncivil to him. I have a good portion which they cannot hinder me +of, and I shall be fourteen on the 29th day of August next, and am +therefore willing to settle in the world as soon as I can, and so is +Mr. Shapely. But everybody I advise with here is poor Mr. Shapely's enemy. +I desire, therefore, you will give me your advice, for I know you are a +wise man: and if you advise me well, I am resolved to follow it. +I heartily wish you could see him dance, and am, + "Sir, your most humble servant. + B. D." +"He loves your Spectator mightily." + +Notes. + +Addison's object in writing this paper is largely serious: +he wishes to criticise and correct manners and morals. He is satirical, +but so good-humored in his satire that no one could be offended. +He also contrives to give the impression that he refers to "the other +fellow," not to you. This delicacy and tact are as important +in the writer as in the diplomat, for the writer quite as much as the +diplomat lives by favor. + +Addison is not a very strict writer, and his works have given examples +for the critics by the score. One of these is seen in "begged her not +to go on, _for-that_ she had been privately married:" "begged" and "for +that" do not go well together. To a modern reader such a phrasing as +"If we look into . . . . . . I look upon it to be" etc., seems a +little awkward, if not crude; but we may excuse these seeming +discrepancies as "antique usage," along with such phrases as "advise her +to in a case of such difficulty" and "to hear the lady _propose_ her +doubts, and to see the pains she is _at_ to get over them." + +"Fortune whom" is evidently a personification. The use of _party_ in +"to the party herself" is now reckoned an Americanism (!) +"Engaged _in_ this subject" is evidently antiquated. + +We miss in Addison the variety which we found in Ruskin. +He does not seem to understand the art of alternating long and short +sentences, and following one sentence form by another in quick +succession. The fact is, English prose style has made enormous advances +since the time of Addison, and we learn more by comparing him +with a writer like Ruskin than by deliberately imitating him. +At the same time his method is simpler, and since it is so we may find +him a good writer to begin our study with. In spite of any little +faults we may find with him, he was and is a great writer, and we should +be sure we can write as _well_ as he before we reject him. + +LETTERS. + +By Robert Louis Stevenson. + + I. + +My Dear Mother,---I am here at last, sitting in my room, without coat +or waistcoat, and with both window and door open, and yet perspiring +like a terra-cotta jug or a Gruy{S} ere cheese: + +We had a very good passage, which we certainly deserved no compensation +for having to sleep on the cabin floor and finding absolutely nothing +fit for human food in the whole filthy embarkation. We made up for lost +time by sleeping on deck a good part of the forenoon. When I awoke, +Simpson was still sleeping the sleep of the just, on a coil of ropes and +(as appeared afterwards) his own hat; so I got a bottle of Bass and a +pipe and laid hold of an old Frenchman of somewhat filthy aspect (fiat +experimentum in corpora vii) to try my French upon. I made very heavy +weather of it. The Frenchman had a very pretty young wife; but my +French always deserted me entirely when I had to answer her, and so she +soon drew away and left me to her lord, who talked of French politics, +Africa, and domestic economy with great vivacity. From Ostend a smoking +hot journey to Brussels! At Brussels we went off after dinner to the +Pare. If any person wants to be happy, I should advise the Pare. You +sit drinking iced drinks and smoking penny cigars under great old trees. + +The band place, covered walks, etc., are all lit up; and you can't fancy +how beautiful was the contrast of the great masses of lamplit foliage +and the dark sapphire night sky with just one blue star set overhead in +the middle of the largest patch. In the dark walks, too, there are +crowds of people whose faces you cannot see, and here and there a +colossal white statue at the corner of an alley that gives the place a +nice, _artificial,_ eighteenth-century sentiment. There was a good deal +of summer lightning blinking overhead, and the black avenues and white +statues leapt out every minute into short-lived distinctness. + + II. + +My dear Colvin,---Any time between eight and half-past nine in the +morning, a slender gentleman in an ulster, with a volume buttoned into +the breast of it, may be observed leaving No. 608 Bush and descending +Powell with an active step. The gentleman is R. L. S.; the volume +relates to Benjamin Franklin, on whom he meditates one of his charming +essays. He descends Powell, crosses Market, and descends in Sixth on +a branch of the original Pine Street Coffee House, no less; +I believe he would be capable of going to the original itself, +if he could only find it. In the branch he seats himself +at a table covered with waxcloth, and a pampered menial, of high +Dutch extraction and, indeed, as yet only partially extracted, +lays before him a cup of coffee, a roll, and a pat of butter, all, +to quote the deity, very good. Awhile ago, and H. L. S. used to find +the supply of butter insufficient; but he has now learned the art to +exactitude, and butter and roll expire at the same moment. +For this refection he pays ten cents, or five pence sterling (L0 0s 5d). + +Half an hour later, the inhabitants of Bush Street observe the same +slender gentleman armed, like George Washington, with his little +hatchet, splitting kindling, and breaking coal for his fire. +He does this quasi-publicly upon the window-sill; but this is not to be +attributed to any love of notoriety, though he is indeed vain of his +prowess with the hatchet (which he persists in calling an axe), +and daily surprised at the perpetuation of his fingers. The reason is +this: that the sill is a strong, supporting beam, and that blows of the +same emphasis in other parts, of his room might knock the entire shanty +into hell. Thenceforth, for from three to four hours, he is engaged +darkly with an ink-bottle. Yet he is not blacking _his_ boots, for the +only pair that he possesses are innocent of lustre and wear the natural +hue of the material turned up with caked and venerable slush. The youngest +child of his landlady remarks several times a day, as this strange occupant +enters or quits the house, "Dere's de author." Can it be that this +bright-haired innocent has found the true clue to the mystery? The being +in question is, at least, poor enough to belong to that honorable craft. + +Notes. + +The first of these two letters by Stevenson was written very +early in his literary career, the second when he may be supposed +to have been at the height of his powers. It is interesting to see to +what extent he had improved his style. + +Note now much suggestiveness (apart from the apparent meaning) is +contained in such words and phrases as "the whole filthy embarkation;" +"made very heavy weather of it" (speaking French); "Parc"; +"_artificial_" (the peculiar meaning being indicated by italicizing); +"pampered menial" (the reference being to just the opposite). + +There is a peculiar mechanical sort of humor in omitting the word +_street_ after "Bush," "Powell," etc., and in giving the cost of his +meal so elaborately---"ten cents, or fivepence sterling (L0 0s 5d)." + +The chief source of fun is in giving small things an importance they do +not deserve. The author is making fun at himself. Of course since he +makes fun at himself it is good-natured; but it must be just as +good-natured if one is to make fun of any one else. Addison was so +successful because no suggestion of malice ever crept into his satire. + +A LETTER TO BERNARD BARTON. + +By Charles Lamb. + +January 9, 1824. + +Dear B. B.,---Do you know what it is to succumb under an insurmountable +day-mare,---a "whoreson lethargy," Falstaff calls it,---an indisposition +to do anything or to be anything; a total deadness and distaste; a +suspension of vitality; an indifference to locality; a numb, soporifical +good-for-nothingness; an ossification all over; an oyster-like +insensibility to the passing events; a mind-stupor; a brawny de---fiance +to the needles of a thrust-in conscience? Did you ever have a very bad +cold with a total irresolution to submit to water-gruel processes? +This has been for many weeks my lot and my excuse. My fingers drag +heavily over this paper, and to my thinking it is three-and-twenty +furlongs from here to the end of this demi-sheet. I have not a thing to +say, nothing is of more importance than another. I am flatter than a +denial or a pancake; emptier than Judge Parke's wig when the head is in +it; duller than a country stage when the actors are off it,---a cipher, +an o! I acknowledge life at all only by an occasional convulsional +cough, and a permanent phlegmatic pain in the chest. I am weary of the +world; life is weary of me. My day is gone into twilight, and I don't +think it worth the expense of candles. My wick bath a thief in it, but +I can't muster courage to snuff it. I inhale suffocation; I can't +distinguish veal from mutton; nothing interests me. 'Tis twelve +o'clock, and Thurtell* is just now coming out upon the new drop, Jack +Ketch alertly tucking up his greasy sleeves to do the last office of +mortality; yet cannot I elicit a groan or a moral reflection. If you +told me the world will be at an end tomorrow, I should say "Will it?" +I have not volition enough left to dot my i's, much less to comb my +eyebrows; my eyes are set in my head; my brains are gone out to see a +poor relation in Moorfields, and they did not say when they'd come back +again; my skull is a Grub-street attic to let,---not so much as a +joint-stool left in it; my hand writes, not I, from habit, as chickens +run about a little when their heads are cut off. Oh for a vigorous fit +of gout, colic, toothache---an earwig{#} * in my auditory, a fly in my +visual organs; pain is life,---the sharper the more evidence of life; +but this apathy, this death! Did you ever have an obstinate cold, a six +or seven weeks' unintermitting chill and suspension of hope, fear, +conscience, and everything? Yet do I try all I can to cure it. I try +wine, and spirits, and smoking, and snuff in unsparing quantities; but +they all only seem to make me worse, instead of better. I sleep in a +damp room, but it does no good; I come home late o' nights, but do not find +any visible amendment! Who shall deliver me from the body of this death? + + *Hanged that day for the murder of Weare. + + {#} *An ant + +It is just fifteen minutes after twelve. Thurtell is by this +time a good way on his journey, baiting at Scorpion, perhaps. +Ketch is bargaining for his cast coat and waistcoat; and the Jew demurs +at first at three half-crowns, but on consideration that he may get +somewhat by showing 'em in the town, finally closes. C. L. + +Notes. + +The danger of not adapting your method to your auditor is well +illustrated by the beginning of Lamb's next letter to the same person: + +"My dear sir,---That peevish letter of mine, which was meant to convey +an apology for my incapacity to write, seems to have been taken by you in +too +serious a light,---it was only my way of telling you I had a severe cold." + +Lamb's letter is filled with about every figure of speech known to +rhetoricians: It will be a useful exercise to pick them out. + +Any person who does not have a well developed sense of humor will hardly +see the force of the reference to Thurtell, the murderer. It is a +whimsical way of indicating by a specific example how empty the writer's +brain was, forcing him to reflect on such a subject in so trivial a manner. + +Observe the occasional summing up of the meaning, curiously repeating +exactly the same thing---"Did you ever have a very bad cold---?" +"Did you ever have an obstinate cold---?" The very short sentences +summarize the very long ones. The repetition is meant to give the +impression of being clumsy and stupid. In describing harshness we use +words that are harsh, in describing awkwardness we use words that are +awkward, in describing brightness and lightness we use words that are +bright and light, in the very words themselves giving a concrete +illustration of what we mean. + + +CHAPTER V. + +RIDICULE: + +Poe. + +I have said that humor is good-natured and winning. This is always +true, though the winning of one reader may be at the expense of some +other. Humor used to win one at the expense of another is called +_satire_ and _sarcasm_. The simplest form of using satire and sarcasm +is in direct _ridicule_. + +Ridicule, satire, and sarcasm are suitable for use against an open +enemy, such as a political opponent, against a public nuisance which +ought to be suppressed, or in behalf of higher ideals and standards. +The one thing that makes this style of little effect is anger or morbid +intensity. While some thing or some one is attacked, perhaps with +ferocity, results are to be obtained by winning the reader. So it comes +about that winning, good-natured humor is an essential element in really +successful ridicule. If intense or morbid hatred or temper is allowed +to dominate, the reader is repulsed and made distrustful, +and turns away without being affected in the desired way at all. + +The following, which opens a little known essay of Edgar Allan Poe's, +is one of the most perfect examples of simple ridicule in the English +language. We may have our doubts as to whether Poe was justified in +using such withering satire on poor Mr. Channing; but we cannot help +feeling that the workmanship is just what it ought to be when ridicule +is employed in a proper cause. Perhaps the boosting of books into +public regard by the use of great names is a proper and sufficient +subject for attack by ridicule. + +WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING. + +By Edgar Allan Poe. + +In speaking of Mr. William Ellery Channing, who has just published a +very neat little volume of poems, we feel the necessity of employing the +indefinite rather than the definite article. He is _a,_ and by no means +_the,_ William Ellery Channing. He is only the _son_* of the great +essayist deceased. . . It may be said in his favor that nobody ever +heard of him. Like an honest woman, he has always succeeded in keeping +himself from being made the subject of gossip. His book contains about +sixty-three things, which he calls poems, and which he no doubt +seriously supposes to be such. They are full of all kinds of mistakes, +of which the most important is that of their having been printed at all. + +They are not precisely English---nor will we insult a great +nation by calling them Kickapoo; perhaps they are Channingese. +We may convey some general idea of them by two foreign terms not in +common use---the Italian _pavoneggiarsi,_ "to strut like a peacock," +and the German word for "sky-rocketing," _Schwarmerei_. They are more +preposterous, in a word, than any poems except those of the author of +"Sam Patch;" for we presume we are right (are we not?) in taking it for +granted that the author of "Sam Patch" is the very worst of all the +wretched poets that ever existed upon the earth. + +In spite, however, of the customary phrase of a man's "making a fool of +himself," we doubt if any one was ever a fool of his own free will and +accord. A poet, therefore, should not always be taken too strictly to +task. He should be treated with leniency, and even when damned, should +be damned with respect. Nobility of descent, too, should be allowed its +privileges not more in social life than in letters. The son of a great +author cannot be handled too tenderly by the critical Jack Ketch. +Mr. Channing must be hung, that's true. He must be hung _in terrorem +--and_ for this there is no help under the sun; but then we shall do him +all manner of justice, and observe every species of decorum, and be +especially careful of his feelings, and hang him gingerly and +gracefully, with a silken cord, as Spaniards hang their grandees of the +blue blood, their nobles of the _sangre azul_. + + *Really the _nephew_. + +To be serious, then, as we always wish to be, if possible, Mr. Channing +(whom we suppose to be a _very_ young man, since we are precluded from +supposing him a _very_ old one), appears to have been inoculated at the +same moment with _virus_ from Tennyson and from Carlyle, etc. + +Notes. + +The three paragraphs which we have quoted illustrate three different +methods of using ridicule. The first is the simple one of contemptuous +epithets--"calling names," as we put it in colloquial parlance. +So long as it is good-humored and the writer does not show personal +malice, it is a good way; but the reader soon tires of it. +A sense of fairness prevents him from listening to mere calling of names +very long. So in the second paragraph Poe changes his method to one +more subtile: he pretends to apologize and find excuses, virtually +saying to the reader, "Oh, I'm going to be perfectly fair," while at the +same time the excuses are so absurd that the effect is ridicule of a +still more intense and biting type. In the third paragraph Poe seems +to answer the reader's mental comment to the effect that "you are merely +amusing us by your clever wit" by asserting that he means to be +extremely serious. He then proceeds about his business with a most +solemn face, which is as amusing in literature as it is in comic +representations on the stage. + +In practising upon this type of writing one must select a subject that +he feels to be decidedly in need of suppression. Perhaps the most +impersonal and easy subject to select for practice is a popular novel +in which one can see absurdities, or certain ridiculous departments in +the newspapers, such as the personal-advice column. Taking such a +subject, adapt Poe's language to it with as little change as possible. + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE RHETORICAL, IMPASSIONED AND LOFTY STYLES: + +Macaulay and De Quincey. The familiar style of the humorist is almost +universal in its availability. It is the style of conversation, to a +great extent---at least of the best conversation,---of letter-writing, +of essay-writing, and, in large part, of fiction. But there are moments +when a different and more, hard and artificial style is required. +These moments are few, and many people never have them at all. +Some people try to have them and thereby fall into the fault of "fine +writing." But it is certainly very important that when the great moment +comes we should be prepared for it. Then a lofty and more or less +artificial style is demanded as imperatively as the key-stone of an arch +when the arch is completed except for the key-stone. Without the +ability to write one lofty sentence, all else that we have said may +completely fail of its effect, however excellent in itself. + +There are three kinds of prose which may be used on such occasions as +we have described. The lowest and most common of these, as it is the +most artificial and most easily acquired, is the rhetorical, or +oratorical, style, the style of all orators, the style which is called +eloquence. Of course we may find specimens of it in actual oratory, but +it is best illustrated in its use for written compositions in Macaulay. +The next variety, more rarely used, was especially developed if not +actually invented by De Quincey and was called by him impassioned prose. + +It would seem at first that language could go no higher; but it does +mount a little higher simply by trying to do less, and we have loftiness +in its plain simplicity, as when man stands bareheaded and humble in the +presence of God alone. + +Macaulay's style is highly artificial, but its rotundity, its movement, +its impressive sweep have made it popular. Almost any one can acquire +some of its features; but the ease with which it is acquired makes it +dangerous in a high degree, for the writer becomes fascinated with it and +uses it far too often. It is true that Macaulay used it practically all +the time; but it is very doubtful it Macaulay would have succeeded so well +with it to-day, when the power of simplicity is so much better understood. + +De Quincey's "impassioned prose" was an attempt on his part to imitate +the effects of poetry in prose. Without doubt he succeeded wonderfully; +but the art is so difficult that no one else has equalled him and prose +of the kind that he wrote is not often written. Still, it is worth while +to try to catch some of his skill. He began to write this kind of +composition in "The Confessions of an English Opium Eater," but he reached +perfection only in some compositions intended as sequels to that book, +namely, "Suspiria de Profundis," and "The English Mail Coach," with its +"Vision of Sudden Death," and "Dream-Fugue" upon the theme of sudden death. + +What we should strive for above all is the mighty effect of simple and +bare loftiness of thought. Masters of this style have not been few, +and they seem to slip into it with a sudden and easy upward sweep that +can be compared to nothing so truly as to the upward flight of an eagle. +They mount because their spirits are lofty. No one who has not a lofty +thought has any occasion to write the lofty style; and such a person +will usually succeed best by paying very little attention to the manner +when he actually comes to write of high ideas. Still, the lofty style +should be studied and mastered like any other. + +It is to be noted that all these styles are applicable chiefly if not +altogether to description. Narration may become intense at times, +but its intensity demands no especial alteration of style. Dialogue, +too, may be lofty, but only in dramas of passion, and very few people +are called upon to write these. But it is often necessary to indicate +a loftier, a more serious atmosphere, and this is effected by +description of surrounding details in an elevated manner. + +One of the most natural, simple, and graceful of lofty descriptions may +be found in Ruskin's "King of the Golden River," Chapter III, +where he pictures the mountain scenery: + +It was, indeed, a morning that might have made any one happy, even with +no Golden River to seek for. Level lines of dewy mist lay stretched +along the valley, out of which rose the massy mountains,---their lower +cliffs in pale gray shadow, hardly distinguishable from the floating +vapor, but gradually ascending till they caught the sunlight, +which ran in sharp touches of ruddy color along the angular crags, and +pierced in long, level rays, through their fringes of spear-like Pine. +Far above, shot up splintered masses of castellated rock, +jagged and shivered into myriads of fantastic forms, with here and there +a streak of sunlit snow, traced down their chasms like a line of forked +lightning; and, far beyond, and far above all these, fainter than the +morning cloud, but purer and changeless, slept in the blue sky, the +utmost peaks of the eternal snow. + +If we ask how this loftiness is attained, the reply must be, first, +that the subject is lofty and deserving of lofty description. +Indeed, the description never has a right to be loftier than the +subject. Then, examining this passage in detail, we find that the words +are all dignified, and in their very sound they are lofty, as for +instance "massy," "myriads," "castellated," "angular crags." +The very sound of the words seems to correspond to the idea. +Notice the repetition of the letter _i_ in "Level lines of dewy mist lay +stretched along the valley." This repetition of a letter is called +alliteration, and here it serves to suggest in and of itself the idea +of the level. The same effect is produced again in "streak of sunlit +snow" with the repetition of _s_. The entire passage is filled with +_alliteration,_ but it is used so naturally that you would never think +of it unless your attention were called to it. + +Next, we note that the structure rises gradually but steadily upward. +We never jump to loftiness, and always find it necessary to climb there. + +"Jumping to loftiness" is like trying to lift oneself by one's +boot-straps: it is very ridiculous to all who behold it. Ruskin begins +with a very ordinary sentence. He says it was a fine morning, +just as any one might say it. But the next sentence starts suddenly +upward from the dead level, and to the end of the paragraph we +rise, terrace on terrace, by splendid sweeps and jagged cliffs, +till at the end we reach "the eternal snow." + +Exercise. + +The study of the following selections from Macaulay and De Quincey may +be conducted on a plan a trifle different from that heretofore employed. + +The present writer spent two hours each day for two weeks reading this +passage from Macaulay over and over: then he wrote a short essay on +"Macaulay as a Model of Style," trying to describe Macaulay's style as +forcibly and skillfully as Macaulay describes the Puritans. +The resulting paper did not appear to be an imitation of Macaulay, +but it had many of the strong features of Macaulay's style which had not +appeared in previous work. The same method was followed in the study +of De Quincey's "English Mail Coach," with even better results. +The great difficulty arose from the fact that these lofty styles were +learned only too well and were not counterbalanced by the study of other +and more universally useful styles. It is dangerous to become +fascinated with the lofty style, highly useful as it is on occasion. + +If the student does not feel that he is able to succeed by the method +of study just described, let him confine himself to more direct +imitation, following out Franklin's plan. + + +THE PURITANS. + +(From the essay on Milton.) + +By T. B. Macaulay. + +We would speak first of the Puritans, the most remarkable body of men, +perhaps, which the world has ever produced. The odious and ridiculous +parts of their character lie on the surface. He that runs may read +them; nor have there been wanting attentive and malicious observers to +point them out. For many years after the Restoration, they were the +theme of unmeasured invective and derision. They were exposed to the +utmost licentiousness of the press and of the stage, when the press and +the stage were most licentious. They were not men of letters; +they were, as a body, unpopular; they could not defend themselves; +and the public would not take them under its protection. They were +therefore abandoned, without reserve, to the tender mercies +of the satirists and dramatists. The ostentatious simplicity of their +dress, their sour aspect, their nasal twang, their stiff posture, their +long graces, their Hebrew names, the Scriptural phrases which they +introduced on every occasion, their contempt of human learning, their +destestation of polite amusements, were indeed fair game for the +laughers. But it is not from the laughers alone that the philosophy of +history is to be learnt. And he who approaches this subject should +carefully guard against the influence of that potent ridicule which has +already misled so many excellent writers. + + . . . . . . . . + +Those who roused the people to resistance, who directed their measures +through a long series of eventful years, who formed out of the most +unpromising materials, the finest army that Europe has ever seen, who +trampled down King, Church, and Aristocracy, who, in the short intervals +of domestic sedition and rebellion, made the name of England terrible to +every nation on the face of the earth, were no vulgar fanatics. +Most of their absurdities were mere external badges, like the signs of +freemasonry, or the dress of the friars. We regret that these badges +were not more attractive. We regret that a body to whose courage and +talents mankind has owed inestimable obligations had not the lofty +elegance which distinguished some of the adherents of Charles the First, +or the easy good-breeding for which the court of Charles the Second +was celebrated. But, if we must make our choice, we shall, like Bassanio +in the play, turn from the specious caskets which contain only the Death's +head and the Fool's head and fix on the plain leaden chest which conceals +the treasure. + +The Puritans were men whose minds had derived a peculiar character from +the daily contemplation of superior beings and eternal interests. +Not content with acknowledging in general terms an overruling +Providence, they habitually ascribed every event to the will of the +Great Being, for whose power nothing was too vast, for whose inspection +nothing was too minute. To know him, to serve him, to enjoy him, +was with them the great end of existence. They rejected with contempt +the ceremonious homage which other sects substituted for the pure +worship of the soul. Instead of catching occasional glimpses of the +Deity through an obscuring veil, they aspired to gaze full on his +intolerable brightness, and to commune with him face to face. +Hence originated their contempt for terrestrial distinctions. +The difference between the greatest and the meanest of mankind seemed +to vanish, when compared with the boundless intervals which separated +the whole race from him on whom their eyes were constantly +fixed. They recognized no title to superiority but his favor; +and, confident of that favor, they despised all the accomplishments and +all the dignities of the world. If they were unacquainted with the +works of philosophers and poets, they were deeply read in the oracles +of God. If their names were not found in the registers of heralds, +they were recorded in the Book of Life. If their steps were not +accompanied by a splendid train of menials, legions of ministering +angels had charge over them. Their palaces were houses not made with +hands; their diadems crowns of glory which should never fade away. +On the rich and the eloquent, on nobles and priests, they looked down +with contempt: for they esteemed themselves rich in a more precious +treasure, and eloquent in a more sublime language, nobles' by the right +of an earlier creation, and priests by the imposition of a mightier +hand. The very meanest of them was a being to whose fate a mysterious +and terrible importance belonged, on whose slightest action the spirits +of light and darkness looked with anxious interest, who had been +destined, before heaven and earth were created, to enjoy a felicity +which should continue when heaven and earth should have passed away. +Events which shortsighted politicians ascribed to earthly causes, +had been ordained on his account. For his sake empires had risen, +and flourished, and decayed. For his sake the Almighty had proclaimed +his will by the pen of the Evangelist, and the harp of the prophet. +He had been wrested by no common deliverer from the grasp of no common +foe. He had been ransomed by the sweat of no vulgar agony, +by the blood of no earthly sacrifice. It was for him that the sun had +been darkened, that the rocks had been rent, that the dead had risen, +that all nature had shuddered at the suffering of her expiring God. + +Thus the Puritans were made up of two different men, the one all +self-abasement, penitence, gratitude, passion, the other proud, calm, +inflexible, sagacious. He prostrated himself in the dust before his +Maker: but he set his foot on the neck of his king. In his devotional +retirement, he prayed with convulsions, and groans, and tears. +He was half maddened by glorious or terrible illusions. He heard the +lyres of angels or the tempting whispers of fiends. He caught a gleam +of the Beatific Vision, or woke screaming from dreams of everlasting +fire. Like Vane, he thought himself intrusted with the sceptre of the +millienial year. Like Fleetwood he cried in the bitterness of his soul +that God had hid his face from him. But when he took his seat in the +council, or girt on his sword for war, these tempestuous works of the +soul had left no perceptible trace behind them. + +People who saw nothing of the godly but their uncouth visages, and heard +nothing from them but their groans and their whining hymns, might laugh +at them. But those had little reason to laugh who encountered them in +the hall of debate or in the field of battle. These fanatics brought +to civil affairs a coolness of judgment and an immutability of purpose +which some writers have thought inconsistent with their religious zeal, +but which were in fact the necessary effects of it. The intensity of +their feelings on one subject made them tranquil on every other. +One overpowering sentiment had subjected to itself pity and hatred, +ambition and fear. Death had lost its terrors, and pleasure its charms. + +They had their smiles and their tears, their raptures and their sorrows, +but not for the things of this world. Enthusiasm had made them Stoics, +had cleared their minds from every vulgar passion and prejudice, +and raised them above the influence of danger and of corruption. +It sometimes might lead them to pursue unwise ends, but never to choose +unwise means. They went through the world like Sir Artegal's iron man +Talus with his flail, crushing and trampling down oppressors, mingling +with human beings, but having neither part nor lot in human infirmities, +insensible to fatigue, to pleasure, and to pain, not to be pierced by +any weapon, not to be withstood by a n barrier. + +Such we believe to have been the character of the Puritans. +We perceive the absurdity of their manners. We dislike the sullen gloom of +their domestic habits. We acknowledge that the tone of their minds was +often injured by straining after things too high for mortal reach: +and we know that, in spite of their hatred of Popery, they too often fell +into the worst vices of that bad system, intolerance and extravagant +austerity, that they had their anchorites and their crusades, +their Dunstans and their De Montforts, their Dominics and their Escobars. +Yet, when all circumstances are taken into consideration, we do not +hesitate to pronounce them a brave, a wise, an honest, and a useful body. + +Notes. + +The most casual examination of Macaulay's style shows us that the words, +the sentences, and the paragraphs are all arranged in rows, one on this +side, one on that, a column here, another just like it over there, +a whole row of columns above this window, and a whole row of columns +above that window, just as bricks are built up in geometrical design. +Almost every word contains an antithesis. The whole constitutes what is +called the _balanced structure_. + +We see also that Macaulay frequently repeats the same word again and +again, and the repetition gives strength. Indeed, repetition is necessary +to make this balanced structure: there must always be so much likeness and +so much unlikeness---and the likeness and unlikeness must just balance. + +We have shown the utility of variation: Macaulay shows the force there +is in monotony, in repetition. In one sentence after another through +an entire paragraph he repeats the same thing over and over and over. +There is no rising by step after step to something higher in Macaulay: +everything is on the dead level; but it is a powerful, heroic level. + +The first words repeated and contrasted are press and stage. +The sentence containing these words is balanced nicely. In the +following sentence we have four short sentences united into one, and the +first clause contrasts with the second and the third with the fourth. +The sentence beginning "The ostentatious simplicity of their +dress" gives us a whole series of subjects, all resting on a +single short predicate---"were fair game for the laughers." +The next sentence catches up the, word "laughers" and plays upon it. + +In the second paragraph we have as subject "those" followed by a whole +series of relative clauses beginning with "who," and this series again +rests on a very short predicate---"were no vulgar fanatics." + +And so on through the entire description, we find series after series, +contrast after contrast; now it is a dozen words all in the same +construction, now a number of sentences all beginning in the same way +and ending in the same way. + +The first paragraph takes up the subject of the contrast of those who +laughed and those who were laughed at. The second paragraph +enlarges upon good points in the objects of the examination. +The third paragraph describes their minds, and we perceive that Macaulay +has all along been leading into this by his series of contrasts. +In the fourth paragraph he brings the two sides into the closest +possible relations, so that the contrast reaches its height. +The last short paragraph sums up the facts. + +This style, though highly artificial, is highly useful when used in +moderation. It is unfortunate that Macaulay uses it so constantly. +When he cannot find contrasts he sometimes makes them, and to make them +he distorts the truth. Besides, he wearies us by keeping us too +monotonously on a high dead level. In time we come to feel that he is +making contrasts merely because he has a passion for making them, +not because they serve any purpose. But for one who wishes to learn +this style, no better model can be found in the English language. + + + +DREAM-FUGUE + +On the Theme of Sudden Death.* + +By Thomas De Quincey. + + *"The English Mail-Coach" consists of three sections, "The Glory of +Motion," "vision of Sudden Death," and "Dream-Fugue." De Quincey +describes riding on the top of a heavy mail-coach. In the dead of night +they pass a young couple in a light gig, and the heavy mail-coach just +escapes shattering the light gig and perhaps killing the young +occupants. De Quincey develops his sensations in witnessing this +"vision of sudden death," and rises step by step to the majestic beauty +and poetic passion of the dream-fugue. + + "Whence the sound + Of instruments, that made melodious chime, + Was heard, of harp and organ; and who moved + Their stops and chords, was seen; his volant touch + Instinct through all proportions, low and high, + Fled and pursued transverse the resonant fugue." + +Paradise Lost, Book XI. + + + +_Tumultuosissimamente_. + +Passion of sudden death! that once in youth I read and interpreted by +the shadows of thy averted signs!---rapture of panic taking the shape +(which amongst tombs in churches I have seen) of woman bursting her +selpuchral bonds---of woman's ionic form bending forward from the ruins +of her grave with arching foot, with eyes upraised, with clasped, +adoring hands---waiting, watching, trembling, praying for the trumpet's +call to rise from dust forever! Ah, vision too fearful of shuddering +humanity on the brink of mighty abysses!---vision that didst start back, +that didst reel away, like a shivering scroll before the wrath of fire +racing on the wings of the wind! Epilepsy so brief of horror, wherefore +is it that thou canst not die? Passing so suddenly into darkness, +wherefore is it that still thou sheddest thy sad funeral blights upon +the gorgeous mosaic of dreams? Fragments of music too passionate, +heard once and heard no more, what aileth thee, that thy deep rolling +chords come up at intervals through all the worlds of sleep, +and after forty years, have lost no element of horror? + + I. + +Lo, it is summer---almighty summer! The everlasting gates of life and +summer are thrown open wide; and on the ocean tranquil and verdant as +a savannah, the unknown lady from the dreadful vision and I myself are +floating---she upon a fairy pinnace, and I upon an English three-decker. + +Both of us are wooing gales of festive happiness within the domain of +our common country, within that ancient watery park, within that +pathless chase of ocean, where England takes her pleasure as a huntress +through winter and summer, from the rising to the setting sun. +Ah, what a wilderness of floral beauty was hidden, or was suddenly +revealed, upon the tropic islands through which the pinnace moved! +And upon her deck what a bevy of human flowers---young women how lovely, +young men bow noble, that were dancing together, and slowly drifting +toward us amidst music and incense, amidst blossoms from forests and +gorgeous corymbi from vintages, amidst natural carolling, and the echoes +of sweet girlish laughter. Slowly the pinnace nears us, gaily she hails +us, and silently she disappears beneath the shadow of our mighty bows. +But then, as at some signal from heaven, the music, and the carols, +and the sweet echoing of girlish laughter,---all are hushed. +What evil has smitten the pinnace, meeting or overtaking her? Did ruin +to our friends couch within our own dreadful shadow? Was our shadow the +shadow of death? I looked over the bow for an answer, and, behold! the +pinnace was dismantled; the revel and the revellers were found no more; +the glory of the vintage was dust; and the forests with their beauty +were left without a witness upon the seas. "But where," and I turned to +our crew---"where are the lovely women that danced beneath the awning of +flowers and clustering corynibi? Whither have fled the noble young men +that danced with _them?_" Answer there was none. But suddenly the man +at the masthead, whose countenance darkened with alarm, cried out, "Sail +on the weather beam! Down she comes upon us; in seventy seconds she +also will founder," + + II. + +I looked to the weather side, and the summer had departed. +The sea was rocking, and shaking with gathering wrath. Upon +its surface sat mighty mists, which grouped themselves into arches +and long cathedral aisles. Down one of these, with the fiery pace of +a quarrel from a crossbow, ran a frigate right athwart our course. +"Are they mad?" some voice exclaimed from our deck. "Do they woo their +ruin?" But in a moment, as she was close upon us, some impulse of a +heady current or local vortex gave a wheeling bias to her course, +and off she forged without a shock. As she ran past us, high aloft +amongst the shrouds stood the lady of the pinnace. The deeps in malice +opened ahead to receive her, the billows were fierce to catch her. +But far away she was borne upon the desert spaces of the sea: +whilst still by sight I followed her, she ran before the howling gale, +chased by angry sea-birds and by maddening billows: still I saw her, +as at the moment when she ran past us, standing amongst the shrouds, +with her white draperies streaming before the wind. There she stood, +with hair dishevelled, one hand clutched amongst the tackling---rising, +sinking, fluttering, trembling, praying---there for leagues I saw her as +she stood, raising at intervals one hand to heaven, amidst the fiery +crests of the pursuing waves and the raving of the storm; until at last, +upon a sound from afar of malicious laughter and mockery, all was hidden +forever in driving showers; and afterwards, but when I know not, nor how. + +Notes. + +De Quincey's "Dream-Fugue" is as luxuriant and extravagant a use of +metaphor as Macaulay's "Puritans" is of the use of antithesis +and the balanced structure. The whole thing is a metaphor, +and every part is a metaphor within a metaphor. + +This is much more than mere fine writing. It is a metaphorical +representation of the incident he has previously described. +In that incident he was particular struck by the actions of the lady. +The young man turned his horse out of the path of the coach, but some +part of the coach struck one of the wheels of the gig, and as it did so, +the lady involuntarily started up, throwing up her arms, and at once +sank back as in a faint. De Quincey did not see her face, and hence he +speaks in this description of "averted signs?" The "woman bursting her +sepulchral bonds" probably refers to a tomb in Westminster Abbey which +represents a woman escaping from the door of the tomb, and Death, +a skeleton, is just behind her, but too late to catch her "arching foot" +as she flies upward---presumably as a spirit. + +So every image corresponds to a reality, either in the facts or in +De Quincey's emotion at the sight of them. The novice fails in such +writing as this because he becomes enamored of his beautiful images and +forgets what he is trying to illustrate. The relation between reality +and image should be as invariable as mathematics. If such startling +images cannot be used with perfect clearness and vivid perception of +their usefulness and value, they should not be used at all. +De Quincey is so successful because his mind comprehends every detail +of the scene, and through the images we see the bottom truth as through +a perfect crystal. A clouded diamond is no more ruined by its +cloudiness than a clouded metaphor. + +As in Ruskin's description of the mountain, we see in this the value of +the sounds of words, and how they seem to make music in themselves. +A Word lacking in dignity in the very least would have ruined the whole +picture, and so would a word whose rotund sound did not correspond to +the loftiness of the passage. Perhaps the only word that jars is +"English three-decker"---but the language apparently afforded De Quincey +no substitute which would make his meaning clear. + + +CHAPTER VII. + +RESERVE: + +Thackeray. + +It has been hinted that the rhetorical, impassioned, and lofty styles +are in a measure dangerous. The natural corrective of that danger is +artistic _reserve_. + +Reserve is a negative quality, and so it has not been emphasized by +writers on composition as it ought to be. But if it is negative, +it is none the less real and important, and fortunately we have in +Thackeray a masterly example of its positive power. + +Originally reserve is to be traced to a natural reticence and modesty +in the character of the author who employs it. It may be studied, +however, and cultivated as a characteristic of style. As an artistic +quality it consists in saying exactly what the facts demand, no more, +no less---and to say no more especially on those occasions when most +people employ superlatives. Macaulay was not characterized by reserve. +He speaks of the Puritans as "the most remarkable body of men the world +ever produced." "Most" is a common word in his vocabulary, since it +served so well to round out the phrase and the idea. Thackeray, on the +other hand, is almost too modest. He is so afraid of saying too much +that sometimes he does not say enough, and that may possibly account for +the fact that he was never as popular as the overflowing Dickens. +The lack of reserve made Dickens "slop over" occasionally, +as indelicate critics have put it; and the presence of reserve did more +than any other one thing to give Thackeray the reputation for perfect +style which all concede to him. + +One of the most famous passages in all of Thackeray's works is the +description of the battle of Waterloo in "Vanity Fair," ch. XXXII: + +All that day, from morning till past sunset, the cannon never ceased to +roar. It was dark when the cannonading stopped all of a sudden. + +All of us have read of what occurred during that interval. The tale is +in every Englishman's mouth; and you and I, who were children when the +great battle was won and lost, are never tired of hearing and recounting +the history of that famous action. Its remembrance rankles still in the +bosoms of millions of the countrymen of those brave men who lost the +day. They pant for an opportunity of revenging that humiliation; and if +a contest, ending in a victory on their part, should ensue, elating them +in their turn, and leaving its cursed legacy of hatred and rage behind +to us, there is no end to the so called glory and shame, and to the +alternation of successful and unsuccessful murder, in which two +high-spirited nations might engage. Centuries hence, we Frenchmen and +Englishmen might be boasting and killing each other still, +carrying out bravely the Devil's code of honor. + +All our friends took their share, and fought like men in the great +field. All day long, while the women were praying ten miles away, +the lines of the dauntless English infantry were receiving and repelling +the furious charges of the French horsemen. Guns which were heard in +Brussels were ploughing up their ranks, and comrades falling, and the +resolute survivors closing in. Towards evening, the attack of the +French, repeated and resisted so bravely, slackened in its fury. +They had other foes besides the British to engage, or were preparing for +a final onset. It came at last; the columns of the Imperial Guard +marched up the hill of Saint Jean, at length and at once to sweep the +English from the height which they had maintained all day and spite of +all; unscared by the thunder of the artillery, which hurled death from +the English line,---the dark rolling column pressed on and up the hill. +It seemed almost to crest the eminence, when it began to wave and +falter. Then it stopped, still facing the shot. Then, at last, +the English troops rushed from the post from which no enemy had been +able to dislodge them, and the Guard turned and fled. + +No more firing was heard at Brussels,---the pursuit rolled miles away. +Darkness came down on the field and city; and Amelia was praying for +George, who was lying on his face, dead, with a bullet through his heart. + +Who before ever began the description of a great victory by praising the +enemy! And yet when we consider it, there is no more artistically +powerful method than this, of showing how very great the enemy was, +and then saying simply, "The English defeated them." + +But Thackeray wished to do more than this. He was preparing the reader +for the awful presence of death in a private affliction, Amelia's loss +of her husband George. To do this he lets his heart go out in sympathy +for the French, and by that sympathy he seems to rise above all race, to +a supreme height where exist the griefs of the human heart and God alone. + +With all this careful preparation, the short, simple closing paragraph--- +the barest possible statement of the facts---produces an effect unsurpassed +in literature. The whole situation seems to cry out for superlatives; +yet Thackeray uses none, but remains dignified, calm, and therefore grand. + +The following selection serves as a sort of preface to the novel +"Vanity Fair." It is quite as remarkable for the things it leaves +unsaid as for the things it says. Of course its object is to whet the +reader's appetite for the story that is to follow; but throughout the +author seems to be laughing at himself. In the last paragraph we see +one of the few superlatives to be found In Thackeray---he says the show +has been "most favorably noticed" by the "conductors of the Public +Press, and by the Nobility and Gentry." Those capital letters prove the +humorous intent of the superlative, which seems to be a burlesque on +other authors who praise themselves. One of the criticisms had been +that Amelia was no better than a doll; and Thackeray takes the critics +at their word and refers to the "Amelia Doll," merely hinting gently +that even a doll may find friends. + + +BEFORE THE CURTAIN. + +(Preface to "Vanity Fair.") + +By W. M. Thackeray. + +As the Manager of the Performance sits before the curtain on the boards, +and looks into the Fair, a feeling of profound melancholy comes over him +in his survey of the bustling place. There is a great quantity of +eating and drinking, making love and jilting, laughing and the contrary, +smoking, cheating, fighting, dancing, and fiddling: there are bullies +pushing about, bucks ogling the women, knaves picking pockets, policemen +on the lookout, quacks (other quacks, plague take them!) bawling in +front of their booths, and yokels looking up at the tinselled dancers +and poor old rouged tumblers, while the light-fingered folk are +operating upon their pockets behind. Yes, this is Vanity Fair; not a +moral place certainly; nor a merry one, though very noisy. Look at the +faces of the actors and buffoons when they come off from their business; +and Tom Fool washing the paint off his cheeks before he sits down to +dinner with his wife and the little Jack Puddings behind the canvas. +The curtain will be up presently, and he will be turning over head and +heels, and crying, "How are you?" + +A man with a reflective turn of mind, walking through an exhibition of +this sort, will not be oppressed, I take it, by his own or other +people's hilarity. An episode of humor or kindness touches and amuses +him here and there,---a pretty child looking at a gingerbread stall; +a pretty girl blushing whilst her lover talks to her and chooses her +fairing; poor Tom Fool, yonder behind the wagon mumbling his bone with +the honest family which lives by his tumbling; but the general +impression is one more melancholy than mirthful. When you come home, +you sit down, in a sober, contemplative, not uncharitable frame of mind, +and apply yourself to your books or your business. + +I have no other moral than this to tag to the present story of "Vanity +Fair." Some people consider Fairs immoral altogether, and eschew such, +with their servants and families; very likely they are right. +But persons who think otherwise, and are of a lazy, or a benevolent, +or a sarcastic mood, may perhaps like to step in for half an hour, and +look at the performances. There are scenes of all sorts; some dreadful +combats, some grand and lofty horse-riding, some scenes of high life, +and some of very middling indeed; some love-making for the sentimental, +and some light comic business; the whole accompanied by appropriate +scenery, and brilliantly illuminated with the Author's own candles. + +What more has the Manager of the Performance to say?---To +acknowledge the kindness with which it has been received in all the +principal towns of England through which the show has passed, and where +it has been most favorably noticed by the respected conductors of the +Public Press, and by the Nobility and Gentry. He is proud to think that +his Puppets have given satisfaction to the very best company in this +empire. The famous little Becky Puppet has been pronounced to be +uncommonly flexible in the joints, and lively on the wire: the Amelia +Doll, though it has had a smaller circle of admirers, has yet been +carved and dressed with the greatest care by the artist: the Dobbin +Figure, though apparently clumsy, yet dances in a very amusing and +natural manner: the Little Boy's Dance has been liked by some; and +please to remark the richly dressed figure of the Wicked Nobleman, +on which no expense has been spared, and which Old Nick will fetch away +at the end of this singular performance. + +And with this, and a profound bow to his patrons, the Manager retires, +and the curtain rises. + +London, June 28, 1848. + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +CRITICISM: + +Matthew Arnold and Ruskin. + +The term "criticism" may appropriately be used to designate all writing +in which logic predominates over emotion. The style of criticism is the +style of argument, exposition, and debate, as well as of literary +analysis; and it is the appropriate style to be used in mathematical +discussions and all scientific essays. + +Of course the strictly critical style may be united with +almost any other. We are presenting pure types; but very +seldom does it happen that any composition ordinarily produced +belongs to any one pure type. Criticism would be dull without +the enlivening effects of some appeal to the emotions. We shall +Illustrate this point in a quotation from Ruskin. + +The critical style has just one secret: It depends on a very close +definition of work in ordinary use, words do not have a sufficiently +definite meaning for scientific purposes. Therefore in scientific +writing it is necessary to define them exactly, and so change common +words into technical terms. To these may be added the great body of +words used in no other way than as technical terms. + +Of course our first preparation for criticism is to master the technical +terms and technical uses of words peculiar to the subject we are treating. +Then we must make it clear to the reader that we are using words in their +technical senses so that he will know how to interpret them. + +But beyond that we must make technical terms as we go along, by defining +common words very strictly. This is nicely illustrated by Matthew Arnold, +one of the most accomplished of pure critics. The opening paragraphs of +the first chapter of "Culture and Anarchy"---the chapter entitled +"Sweetness and Light"---will serve for illustration, and the student is +referred to the complete work for material for further study and imitation. + +From "Sweetness and Light." + +The disparagers of culture, [says Mr. Arnold], make its motive +curiosity; sometimes, indeed, they make its motive mere exclusiveness +and vanity. The culture which is supposed to plume itself on a +smattering of Greek and Latin is a culture which is begotten by nothing +so intellectual as curiosity; it is valued either out of sheer vanity +and ignorance, or else as an engine of social and class distinction, +separating its holder, like a badge or title, from other people who have +not got it. No serious man would call this _culture,_ or attach any +value to it, as culture, at all. To find the real ground for the very +different estimate which serious people will set upon culture, we must +find some motive for culture in the terms of which may lie a real +ambiguity; and such a motive the word _curiosity_ gives us. + +I have before now pointed out that we English do not, like the +foreigners, use this word in a good sense as well as in a bad sense. +A liberal and intelligent eagerness about the things of the mind may be +meant by a foreigner when he speaks of curiosity, but with us the word +always conveys a certain notion of frivolous and unedifying activity. +In the _Quarterly Review,_ some little time ago, was an estimate of the +celebrated French critic, M. Sainte-Beuve, and a very inadequate +estimate it in my judgment was. And its inadequacy consisted chiefly +in this: that in our English way it left out of sight the double sense +really involved in the word _curiosity,_ thinking enough was said to +stamp M. Sainte-Beuve with blame if it was said that he was impelled +in his operations as a critic by curiosity, and omitting either to +perceive that M. Sainte-Beuve himself, and many other people with him, +would consider that this was praiseworthy and not blameworthy, +or to point out why it ought really to be accounted worthy of blame and +not of praise. For as there is a curiosity about intellectual matters +which is futile, and merely a disease, so there is certainly a +curiosity,---a desire after the things of the mind simply for their own +sakes and for the pleasure of seeing them as they are,---which is, +in an intelligent being, natural and laudable. Nay, and the very desire +to see things as they are implies a balance and regulation of mind which +is not often attained without fruitful effort, and which is the very +opposite of the blind and diseased impulse of mind which is what we mean +to blame when we blame curiosity. Montesquieu says: 'The first motive +which ought to impel us to study is the desire to augment the excellence +of our nature, and to render an intelligent being yet more intelligent.' +This is the true ground to assign for the genuine scientific passion, +however manifested, and for culture, viewed simply as a fruit of this +passion; and it is a worthy ground, even though we let the term +_curiosity_ stand to describe it. + +Starting with exact definitions of words, it is easy to pass to exact +definitions of ideas, which is the thing we should be aiming at all the +time. The logical accuracy of our language, however, is apparent +throughout. + +Matthew Arnold does not embellish his criticism, nor does he make any +special appeal to the feelings or emotions of his readers. Not so Ruskin. +He discovers intellectual emotions, and makes pleasant appeals to those +emotions. Consequently his criticism has been more popular than Matthew +Arnold's. As an example of this freer, more varied critical style, +let us cite the opening paragraphs of the lecture "Of Queens' Gardens"--in +"Sesame and Lilies": + +From "Sesame and Lilies." + +It will be well . . that I should shortly state to you my general +intention. . . The questions specially proposed to you in my former +lecture, namely How and What to Read, rose out of a far deeper one, +which it was my endeavor to make you propose earnestly to yourselves, +namely, Why to Read I want you to feel, with me, that whatever advantage +we possess in the present day in the diffusion of education and of +literature, can only be rightly used by any of us when we have +apprehended clearly what education is to lead to, and literature to +teach. I wish you to see that both well directed moral training and +well chosen reading lead to the possession of a power over the +ill-guided and illiterate, which is, according to the measure of it, in +the truest sense kingly;* conferring indeed the purest kingship that can +exist among men. Too many other kingships (however distinguished by +visible insignia or material power) being either spectral, or tyrannous; +spectral---that is to say, aspects and shadows only of royalty, hollow +as death, and which only the "likeness of a kingly crown have on;" +or else tyrannous---that is to say, substituting their own will for the +law of justice and love by which all true kings rule. + + *The preceding lecture was entitled "Of Kings's Treasures." + +There is then, I repeat (and as I want to leave this idea with you, +I begin with it, and shall end with it) only one pure kind of kingship, +---an inevitable or eternal kind, crowned or not,---the kingship, namely, +which consists in a stronger moral state and truer thoughtful state than +that of others, enabling you, therefore, to guide or to raise them. +Observe that word "state :" we have got into a loose way of using it. +It means literally the standing and stability of a thing; and you have +the full force of it in the derived word "statue"---"the immovable +thing." A king's majesty or "state," then, and the right of his kingdom +to be called a State, depends on the movelessness of both,---without +tremor, without quiver of balance, established and enthroned upon a +foundation of eternal law which nothing can alter or overthrow. + +Believing that all literature and all education are only useful so far +as they tend to confirm this calm, beneficent, and therefore kingly, +power,---first over ourselves, and, through ourselves, over all around +us,--- I am now going to ask you to consider with me further, what +special portion or kind of this royal authority, arising out of noble +education, may rightly be possessed by women; and how far they also are +called to a true queenly power,---not in their households merely, +but over all within their sphere. And in what sense, if they rightly +understood and exercised this royal or gracious influence, the order and +beauty induced by such benignant power would justify us in speaking of +the territories over which each of them reigned as 'Queens' Gardens.' + +Here still is the true critical style, with exact definitions; +but the whole argument is a metaphor, and the object of the criticism +is to rouse feelings that will lead to action. + +It will be observed that words which by definition are to be taken in +some sort of technical sense are distinguished to the eye in some way. +Matthew Arnold used italics. Ruskin first places "state" within quotation +marks, and then, when he uses the word in a still different sense, +he writes it with a capital letter---State. Capitalization is perhaps +the most common way for designating common words when used in a special +sense which is defined by the writer---or defined by implication. +This is the explanation of the capital letters with which the writings of +Carlyle are filled. He constantly endeavors to make words mean more than, +or something different from, the meaning they usually have. + +The peculiar embellishments of the critical writer are epigram, paradox, +and satire. An _epigram_ is a very short phrase or sentence which is +so full of implied meaning or suggestion that it catches the attention +at once, and remains in the memory easily. The _paradox_ is something +of the same sort on a larger scale. It is a statement that we can +hardly believe to be true, since it seems at first sight to be +self-contradictory, or to contradict well known truths or laws; +but on examination we find that in a peculiar sense it is strictly true. +_Satire_ is a variation of humor peculiarly adapted to criticism, +since it is intended to make the common idea ridiculous when compared +with the ideas which the critic is trying to bring out: it is a sort of +argument by force of stinging points. We may find an example of satire +in its perfection in Swift, especially in his "Gulliver's Travels"--- +since these are satires the point of which we can appreciate +to-day. Oscar Wilde was peculiarly given to epigram, and +in his plays especially we may find epigram carried to the same +excess that the balanced structure is carried by Macaulay. +More moderate epigram may be found in Emerson and Carlyle. +Paradox is something that we should use only on special occasion. + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE STYLE OF FICTION: + +Narrative, Description, and Dialogue. + +Dickens. + +In fiction there are three different kinds of writing which must be blended +with a fine skill, and this fact makes fiction so much the more difficult +than any other sort of writing. History is largely narrative, pure and +simple, newspaper articles are description, dramas are dialogue, but +fiction must unite in a way peculiar to itself the niceties of all three. + +We must take each style separately and master it thoroughly before +trying to combine the three in a work of fiction. The simplest is +narrative, and consists chiefly in the ability to tell a plain story +straight on to the end, just as in conversation Neighbor Gossip comes +and tells a long story to her friend the Listener. A writer will gain +this skill if he practise on writing out tales or stories just as nearly +as possible as a child would do it, supposing the child had a sufficient +vocabulary. Letter-writing, when one is away from home and wishes +to tell his intimate friends all that has happened to him, +is practice of just this sort, and the best practice. + +Newspaper articles are more descriptive than any other sort of writing. +You have a description of a new invention, of a great fire, of a +prisoner at the bar of justice. It is not quite so spontaneous as +narrative. Children seldom describe, and the newspaper man finds +difficulty in making what seems a very brief tale into a column article +until he can weave description as readily as he breathes. + +Dialogue in a story is by no means the same as the dialogue of a play: +it ought rather to be a description of a conversation, and very seldom +is it a full report of what is said on each side. + +Description is used in its technical sense to designate the presentation +of a scene without reference to events; narrative is a description of +events as they have happened, a dialogue is a description of +conversation. Fiction is essentially a descriptive art, and quite as +much is it descriptive in dialogue as in any other part. + +The best way to master dialogue as an element by itself is to study the +novels of writers like Dickens, Thackeray, or George Eliot. +Dialogue has its full development only in the novel, and it is here and +not in short stories that the student of fiction should study it. +The important points to be noticed are that only characteristic and +significant speeches are reproduced. When the conversation gives only +facts that should be known to the reader it is thrown into the indirect +or narrative form, and frequently when the impression that a conversation +makes is all that is important, this impression is described in general +terms instead of in a detailed report of the conversation itself. + +So much for the three different modes of writing individually +considered. The important and difficult point comes in the balanced +combination of the three, not in the various parts of the story, +but in each single paragraph. Henry James in his paper on +"The Art of Fiction," says very truly that every descriptive passage is +at the same time narrative, and every dialogue is in its essence also +descriptive. The truth is, the writer of stories has a style of his +own, which we may call the narrative-descriptive-dialogue style, +which is a union in one and the same sentence of all three sorts of +writing. In each sentence, to be sure, narrative or description or +dialogue will predominate; but still the narrative is always present in +the description, and the description in the dialogue, as Mr. James says; +and if you take a paragraph this fact will appear more clearly, +and if you take three or four paragraphs, or a whole story, +the fusion of all three styles in the same words is clearly apparent. + +It is impossible to give fixed rules for the varying proportion of +description, narration, or dialogue in any given passage. The writer +must guide himself entirely by the impression in his own mind. He sees +with his mind's eye a scene and events happening in it. As he describes +this from point to point he constantly asks himself, what method of +using words will be most effective here? He keeps the impression always +closely in mind. He does not wander from it to put in a descriptive +passage or a clever bit of dialogue or a pleasing narrative: he follows +out his description of the impression with faithful accuracy, thinking +only of being true to his own conception, and constantly ransacking his +whole knowledge of language to get the best expression, whatever it may +be. Now it may be a little descriptive touch, now a sentence or two out +of a conversation, now plain narration of events. Dialogue is the most +expansive and tiring, and should frequently be relieved by the condensed +narrative, which is simple and easy reading. Description should seldom +be given in chunks, but rather in touches of a brief and delicate kind, +and with the aim of being suggestive rather than full and detailed. + +Humor, and especially good humor, are indispensable to the most +successful works of fiction. Above all other kinds of writing, +fiction must win the heart of the reader. And this requires that the +heart of the writer should be tender and sympathetic. Harsh critics +call this quality sentiment, and even sentimentality. Dickens had it +above all other writers, and it is probable that this popularity has +never been surpassed. Scott succeeded by his splendid descriptions, but +no one can deny that he was also one of the biggest hearted men in the +world. And Thackeray, with all his reserve, had a heart as tender and +sympathetic as was ever borne by so polished a gentleman. + +As an almost perfect example of the blending of narrative, description, +and dialogue, all welded into an effective whole by the most delicate +and winning sentiment, we offer the following selection from +Barbox Bros. & Co., in "Mugby Junction." + +POLLY. + +By Charles Dickens. + +Although he had arrived at his journey's end for the day at noon, +he had since insensibly walked about the town so far and so long that +the lamplighters were now at their work in the streets, and the shops +were sparkling up brilliantly. Thus reminded to turn towards his +quarters, he was in the act of doing so, when a very little hand crept +into his, and a very little voice said: + +"O! If you please, I am lost!" + +He looked down, and saw a very little fair-haired girl. + +"Yes," she said, confirming her words with a serious nod. +"I am, indeed. I am lost." + +Greatly perplexed, he stopped, looked about him for help, descried none, +and said, bending low: + +"Where do you live, my child?" + +"I don't know where I live," she returned. "I am lost." + +"What is your name?" + +"Polly." + +"What is your other name?" + +The reply was prompt, but unintelligible. + +Imitating the sound, as he caught it, he hazarded the guess, "Trivits?" + +"O no!" said the child, shaking her head. "Nothing like that." + +"Say it again, little one" + +An unpromising business. For this time it had quite a different sound. + +He made the venture: "Paddens?" + +"O no!" said the child. "Nothing like that." + +"Once more. Let us try it again, dear." + +A most hopeless business. This time it swelled into four syllables. +"It can't be Tappitarver?" said s a i d Barbox Brothers, +rubbing his head with his hat in discomfiture. + +"No! It ain't," the child quietly assented. + +On her trying this unfortunate name once more, with extraordinary +efforts at distinction, it swelled into eight syllables at least. + +"Ah! I think," said Barbox Brothers, with a desperate air of +resignation, "that we had better give it up." + +"But I am lost," said the child nestling her little hand more closely +in his, "and you'll take care of me, won't you?" + +If ever a man were disconcerted by division between compassion on the +one hand, and the very imbecility of irresolution on the other, +here the man was. "Lost!" he repeated, looking down at the child. +"I am sure I am. What is to be done!" + +"Where do _you_ live?" asked the child, looking up at him wistfully. + +"Over there," he answered, pointing vaguely in the direction of the hotel. + +"Hadn't we better go there?" said the child. + +"Really," he replied, "I don't know but what we had." + +So they set off, hand in hand;---he, through comparison of himself +against his little companion, with a clumsy feeling on him as if he had +just developed into a foolish giant;---she, clearly elevated in her own +tiny opinion by having got him so neatly out of his embarrassment. + +"We are going to have dinner when we get there, I suppose?" said Polly. + +"Well," he rejoined, "I---yes, I suppose we are." + +"Do you like your dinner?" asked the child. + +"Why, on the whole," said Barbox Brothers, "yes, I think I do." + +"I do mine," said Polly "Have you any brothers and sisters?" + +"No, have you?" + +"Mine are dead." + +"O!" said Barbox Brothers. With that absurd sense of unwieldiness of +mind and body weighing him down, he would not have known how to pursue +the conversation beyond this curt rejoinder, but that the child was +always ready for him. + +"What," she asked, turning her soft hand coaxingly in his, +"are you going to do to amuse me, after dinner?" + +"Upon my soul, Polly," exclaimed Barbox Brothers, very much at a loss, +"I have not the slightest idea!" + +"Then I tell you what," said Polly. +"Have you got any cards at the house?" + +"Plenty," said Barbox Brothers, in a boastful vein. + +"Very well. Then I'll build houses, and you shall look at me. +You mustn't blow, you know." + +"O no!" said Barbox Brothers. +"No, no, no! No blowing! Blowing's not fair." + +He flattered himself that he had said this pretty well for an idiotic +monster; but the child, instantly perceiving the awkwardness of +his attempt to adapt himself to her level, utterly destroyed +his hopeful opinion of himself by saying, compassionately: +"What a funny man you are!" + +Feeling, after this melancholy failure, as if he every minute grew +bigger and heavier in person, and weaker in mind, Barbox gave himself +up for a bad job. No giant ever submitted more meekly to be led in +triumph by all-conquering Jack, than he to be bound in slavery to Polly. + +"Do you know any stories?" she asked him. + +He was reduced to the humiliating confession: + +"What a dunce you must be, mustn't you?" said Polly. + +He was reduced to the humiliating confession: + +"Would you like me to teach you a story? But you must remember it, +you know, and be able to tell it right to somebody else afterwards?" + +He professed that it would afford him the highest mental gratification +to be taught a story, and that he would humbly endeavor to retain it in +his mind. Whereupon Polly, giving her hand a new little turn in his, +expressive of settling down for enjoyment, commenced a long romance, +of which every relishing clause began with the words: "So this," or +"And so this." As, "So this boy;" or, "So this fairy;" or "And so this +pie was four yards round, and two yards and a quarter deep." +The interest of the romance was derived from the intervention of +this fairy to punish this boy for having a greedy appetite. +To achieve which purpose, this fairy made this pie, and this boy ate and +ate and ate, and his cheeks swelled and swelled and swelled. +There were many tributary circumstances, but the forcible interest +culminated in the total consumption of this pie, and the bursting of +this boy. Truly he was a fine sight, Barbox Brothers, with serious +attentive face, an ear bent down, much jostled on the pavements of the +busy town, but afraid of losing a single incident of the epic, +lest he should be examined in it by-and-by and found deficient. + +Exercise. Rewrite this little story, locating the scene in your own +town and describing yourself in the place of Barbox Bros. +Make as few changes in the wording as possible. + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE EPIGRAMMATIC STYLE: + +Stephen Crane. + +A peculiarly modern style is that in which very short sentences are used +for pungent effect. If to this characteristic of short sentences we add +a slightly unusual though perfectly obvious use of common words, we have +what has been called the "epigrammatic style," though it does not +necessarily have any epigrams in it. It is the modern newspaper and +advertisement writer's method of emphasis; and if it could be used in +moderation, or on occasion, it would be extremely effective. But to use +it at all times and for all subjects is a vice distinctly to be avoided. + +Stephen Crane's "The Red Badge of Courage" is written almost wholly in +this style. If we read three or four chapters of this story we may +see how tiring it is for the mind to be constantly jerked along. +At the same time, in a brief advertising booklet probably no other style +that is sufficiently simple and direct would be as likely to attract +immediate attention and hold it for the short time usually required to +read an advertisement. + +Crane's style has a literary turn and quality which will not be found +in the epigrammatic advertisement, chiefly because Crane is descriptive, +while the advertiser is merely argumentative. However, the +advertisement writer will learn the epigrammatic style most surely and +quickly by studying the literary form of it. + +From "The Red Badge of Courage." + +The blue haze of evening was upon the field. The lines of forest were +long purple shadows. One cloud lay along the western sky partly +smothering the red. + +As the youth left the scene behind him, he heard the guns +suddenly roar out. He imagined them shaking in black rage. +They belched and howled like brass devils guarding a gate. +The soft air was filled with the tremendous remonstrance. +With it came the shattering peal of opposing infantry. Turning to look +behind him, he could see sheets of orange light illumine the shadowy +distance. There were subtle and sudden lightnings in the far air. +At times he thought he could see heaving masses of men. + +He hurried on in the dusk. The day had faded until he could barely +distinguish place for his feet. The purple darkness was filled with men +who lectured and jabbered. Sometimes he could see them gesticulating +against the blue and somber sky. There seemed to be a great ruck of men +and munitions spread about in the forest and in the fields. . . + +His thoughts as he walked fixed intently upon his hurt. There was a +cool, liquid feeling about it and he imagined blood moving +slowly down under his hair. His head seemed swollen to a size that made +him think his neck to be inadequate. + +The new silence of his wound made much worriment. The little blistering +voices of pain that had called out from his scalp were, he thought, +definite in their expression of danger. By them he believed that he could +measure his plight. But when they remained ominously silent he became +frightened and imagined terrible fingers that clutched into his brain. + +Amid it he began to reflect upon various incidents and conditions of the +past. He bethought him of certain meals his mother had cooked at home, +in which those dishes of which he was particularly fond had occupied +prominent positions. He saw the spread table. The pine walls of +the kitchen were glowing in the warm light from the stove. +Too, he remembered how he and his companions used to go from the +school-house to the bank of a shaded pool. He saw his clothes in +disorderly array upon the grass of the bank. He felt the swash of the +fragrant water upon his body. The leaves of the overhanging maple +rustled with melody in the wind of youthful summer. + +Exercise. + +After reading this passage over a dozen times very slowly +and carefully, and copying it phrase by phrase, continue +the narrative in Crane's style through two more paragraphs, +bringing the story of this day's doing to some natural conclusion. + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE POWER OF SIMPLICITY: + +The Bible, Franklin, Lincoln. + +We have all heard that the simplest style is the strongest; and no doubt +most of us have wondered how this could be, as we turned over in our +minds examples of what seemed to us simplicity, comparing them with the +rhetorical, the lofty, and the sublime passages we could call to mind. + +Precisely this wonder was in the minds of a number of very well educated +people who gathered to attend the dedicatory exercises of the Gettysburg +monument, and Abraham Lincoln gave them one of the very finest +illustrations in the whole range of the world's history, of how +simplicity can be stronger than rhetoric. Edward Everett was the orator +of the day, and he delivered a most polished and brilliant oration. +When he sat down the friends of Lincoln regretted that this homely +countryman was to be asked to "say a few words," since they felt that +whatever he might say would be a decided anticlimax. The few words that +he did utter are the immortal "Gettysburg speech," by far the shortest +great oration on record. Edward Everett afterward remarked, +"I wish I could have produced in two hours the effect that Lincoln +produced in two minutes." The tremendous effect of that speech could +have been produced in no other way than by the power of simplicity, +which permits the compression of more thought into a few words than +any other style-form. All rhetoric is more or less windy. +The quality of a simple style is that in order to be anything at all it +must be solid metal all the way through. + +The Bible, the greatest literary production in the world as atheists and +Christians alike admit, is our supreme example of the wonderful power +of simplicity, and it more than any other one book has served to mould +the style of great writers. To take a purely literary passage, what could +be more affecting, yet more simple, than these words from Ecclesiastes? + +From "Ecclesiastes." + +Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while the evil days +come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no +pleasure in them; while the sun, or the light, or the moon, or the +stars, be not darkened, nor the clouds return after the rain: In the day +when the keepers of the house shall tremble, and the strong men shall +bow themselves, and the grinders cease because they are few, and those +that look out of the windows be darkened; and the doors shall be shut +in the streets, when the sound of the grinding is low, and he shall rise +up at the voice of the bird, and all the daughters of music shall be +brought low; also when they shall be afraid of that which is high, +and fears shall be in the way, and the almond tree shall flourish, and +the grasshoppers shall be a burden, and desire shall fail: because man +goeth to his long home, and the mourners go about the streets: +Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the +pitcher be broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern. +Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall +return unto God who gave it. + +This is the sort of barbaric poetry that man in his natural and original +state might be supposed to utter. It lacks the nice logic and fine +polish of Greek culture; indeed its grammar is somewhat confused. But +there is a higher logic than the logic of grammar, namely the logic of +life and suffering. The man who wrote this passage had put a year of +his existence into every phrase; and that is why it happens that we can +find here more phrases quoted by everybody than we can even in the best +passage of similar length in Shak{e}spe{a}re or any other modern writer. + +We see in proverbs how by the power of simplicity an enormous amount of +thought can be packed into a single line. Some of these have taken +thousands of years to grow; and because so much time is required in the +making of them, our facile modern writers never produce any. +Their fleeting epigrams appear to be spurious coin the moment they are +placed side by side with Franklin's epigrams, for instance. +Franklin worked his proverbs into the vacant spaces in his almanac +during a period of twenty-five years, and then collected all those +proverbs into a short paper entitled, "The Way to Wealth." +It may be added, also, that he did not even originate most of these +sayings, but only gave a new stamp to what he found in Hindu and Arabic +records. For all that, Poor Richard's Almanac is more likely to become +immortal than even Franklin's own name and fame. + +The history of Bacon's essays is another fine example of what simplicity +can effect in the way of greatness. These essays were originally +nothing more than single sentences jotted down in a notebook, probably +as an aid to conversation. How many times they were worked over we have +no means of knowing; but we have three printed editions of the essays, +each of which is immensely developed from what went before. + +In reading the following lines from Franklin, let us reflect that not +less than a year went to the writing of every phrase that can be called +great; and that if we could spend a year in writing a single sentence, +it might be as well worth preserving as these proverbs. +Some men have been made famous by one sentence, usually because it +somehow expressed the substance of a lifetime. + +From "Poor Richard's Almanac." + +Father Abraham stood up and replied, "If you would have my advice, +I will give it you in short; _for a word to the wise is enough, +and essay words won't fill a bushel,_ as POOR RICHARD says." + +They all joined him and desired him to speak his mind; +and gathering them around him, he proceeded as follows: + +Friends, says he, and neighbors! The taxes are indeed very heavy; +and if those laid on by the Government were the only ones we had to pay, +we might the more easily discharge them; but we have many others, +and much more grievous to some of us. We are taxed twice as much by our +idleness, three times as much by our Pride, and four times as much by +our Folly; and from these taxes the Commissioners cannot ease or deliver +us by allowing an abatement. However, let us hearken to good advice, +and something may be done for us, _God helps them that helps +themselves,_ as POOR RICHARD says in his _Almanac_ of 1733. + +It would be thought a hard government that should tax its people one +tenth part of their time, to be employed in its service. But idleness +taxes many of us much more; if we reckon all that is spent in absolute +sloth, or doing of nothing; with that which is spent in idle employments +or amusements that amounts to nothing. Sloth, by bringing on disease, +absolutely shortens life. Sloth, _like Rust, consumes faster than +Labor_ wean; while _the used keg is always bright,_ as POOR RICHARD +says. _But dost thou love Life? Then do_ not _squander time_! +for _that's the stuff Life is made of,_ as POOR RICHARD says. + +How much more time than is necessary do we spend in sleep? +forgetting that the _sleeping fox catches no poultry;_ and that _there +will be sleeping enough in the grave, as_ POOR RICHARD says. + +If Time be of all things the most precious, wasting _of Time must be_ +(as POOR RICHARD says) _the greatest prodigality;_ and since, as he +elsewhere tells us, _Lost time is never found again;_ and _what we_ call +Time enough! always proves little enough, let us then up and be doing, +and doing to the purpose: so, by diligence, shall we do more with less +perplexity. _Sloth makes all things difficult, but Industry all things +easy,_ as POOR RICHARD says: and _He_ that _riseth late, must trot all +day; and shall scarce overtake his business at night. While Laziness +travels so slowly, that Poverty soon over-takes him, as we read in_ POOR +RICHARD who adds, _Drive thy business! Let not that drive thee_! and + _Early to bad and early to rise, + Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise_. + +As Franklin extracted these sayings one by one out of the Arabic and +other sources, in each case giving the phrases a new turn, +and as Bacon jotted down in his notebook every witty word he heard, +so we will make reputations for ourselves if we are always picking up +the good things of others and using them whenever we can. + +THE GETTYSBURG SPEECH + +By Abraham Lincoln. + +Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this +continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the +proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a +great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived +and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield +of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a +final resting-place for those who here gave their lives that that nation +might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. + +But in a larger sense we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we +cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who +struggled here, have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or +detract. The world will little note, nor long remember, what we, +say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us, +the living, rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished work +which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. +It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining +before us,---that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to +that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion, +---that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in +vain,---that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of +freedom,---and that government of the people, by the people, +for the people, shall not perish from the earth. + + +CHAPTER XII. + +HARMONY OF STYLE: + +Irving and Hawthorne. + +A work of literary art is like a piece of music: one false note makes +a discord that spoils the effect of the whole. But it is useless to +give rules for writing an harmonious style. When one sits down to write +he should give his whole thought and energy to expressing himself +forcibly and with the vital glow of an overpowering interest. +An interesting thought expressed with force and suggestiveness is worth +volumes of commonplaces couched in the most faultless language. +The writer should never hesitate in choosing between perfectness of +language and vigor. On the first writing verbal perfection should be +sacrificed without a moment's hesitation. But when a story or essay has +once been written, the writer will turn his attention to those small +details of style. He must harmonize his language. He must polish. +It is one of the most tedious processes in literature, and to the novice +the most difficult on which to make a beginning. Yet there is nothing +more surely a matter of labor _and_ not of genius. It is for this that +one masters grammar and rhetoric, and studies the individual uses of +words. Carried to an extreme it is fatal to vitality of style. +But human nature is more often prone to shirk, and this is the thing +that is passed over from laziness. If you find one who declaims against +the utmost care in verbal polish, you will find a lazy man. + +The beginner, however, rarely knows how to set to work, and this chapter +is intended to give some practical hints. We assume that the student +knows perfectly well what good grammar is, as well as the leading +principles of rhetoric, and could easily correct his faults in these if +he should see them. There are several distinct classes of errors to +look for: faults of grammar, such as the mixing of modes and tenses, +and the agreement of verbs and particles in number when collective nouns +are referred to; faults of rhetoric, such as the mixing of figures of +speech; faults of taste, such as the use of words with a disagreeable +or misleading atmosphere about them, though their strict meaning makes +their use correct enough; faults of repetition of the same word in +differing senses in the same sentence or paragraph; faults of tediousness +of phrasing or explanation; faults of lack of clearness in expressing the +exact meaning; faults of sentimental use of language, that is, falling into +fine phrases which have no distinct meaning---the most discordant fault of +all; faults of digression in the structure of the composition. + +This list is comprehensive of the chief points to look for in verbal +revision. Faults of grammar need no explanation here. But we would +say, Beware. The most skilled writers are almost constantly falling +into errors of this kind, for they are the most subtle and elusive of +all, verbal failings. There is, indeed, but one certain way to be sure +that they are all removed, and that is by parsing every word by +grammatical formula it is a somewhat tedious method, but by practice one +may weigh each word with rapidity, and it is only by considering each +word alone that one may be sure that nothing is passed over. +In the same way each phrase or sentence, or figure of speech, +should be weighed separately, for its rhetorical accuracy. + +Faults of taste are detected by a much more delicate process than the +application of formula+e, but they almost invariably arise +(if ones native sense is keen) from the use of a word in a perfectly +legitimate and pure sense, when the public attaches to it an atmosphere +(let us call it) which is vulgar or disagreeable. In such cases the +word should be sacrificed, for the atmosphere of a word carries a +hundred times more weight with the common reader than the strict and +logical meaning. For instance, the word _mellow_ is applied to +over-ripe fruit, and to light of a peculiarly soft quality, if one is +writing for a class of people who are familiar with the poets, it is +proper enough to use the word in its poetic sense; but if the majority +of the readers of one's work always associate _mellow_ with over-ripe +fruit, to use it in its poetic sense would be disastrous. + +The repetition of the same word many times in succeeding phrases is a +figure of speech much used by certain recognized writers, and is a most +valuable one. Nor should one be afraid of repetition whenever clearness +makes it necessary. But the repetition of the same word in differing +senses in adjoining phrases is a fault to be strictly guarded against. +The writer was himself once guilty of perpetrating the following +abomination: "The _form_ which represented her, though idealized +somewhat, is an actual likeness elevated by the force of the sculptor's +love into a _form_ of surpassing beauty. It is her _form_ reclining on +a couch, only a soft, thin drapery covering her transparent _form,_ her +head slightly raised and turned to one side, and having concentrated in +its form and posture the height of the whole figure's beauty." Careful +examination will show that form, used five times in this paragraph, +has at least three very slightly differing meanings, a fact which +greatly adds to the objectionableness of the recurrence of the sound. + +A writer who has a high regard for accuracy and completeness of +expression is very liable to fall into tediousness in his explanations, +he realizes that he is tedious, but he asks, "How can I say what I have +to say without being tedious?" Tediousness means that what is said is +not worth saying at all, or that it can be said in fewer words. +The best method of condensation is the use of some pregnant phrase or +comparison which rapidly suggests the meaning without actually stating +it. The art of using suggestive phrases is the secret of condensation. + +But in the rapid telling of a story or description of a scene, perhaps +no fault is so surely fatal as a momentary lapse into meaningless fine +phrases, or sentimentality. In writing a vivid description the author +finds his pen moving even after he has finished putting down every +significant detail. He is not for the moment sure that he has finished, +and thinks that to complete the picture, to "round it up," a few general +phrases are necessary. But when he re-reads what he has written, +he sees that it fails, for some unknown reason, of the power of effect +on which he had counted. His glowing description seems tawdry, +or overwrought. He knows that it is not possible that the whole is bad: + +But where is the difficulty? + +Almost invariably the trouble will be found to be in some false phrase, +for one alone is enough to spoil a whole production. It is as if a +single flat or sharp note is introduced into a symphony, producing a +discord which rings through the mind during the whole performance. + +To detect the fault, go over the work with the utmost care, weighing +each item of the description, and asking the question, Is that an +absolutely necessary and true element of the picture I had in mind? +Nine times out of ten the writer will discover some sentence or phrase +which may be called a "glittering generality," or that is a weak +repetition of what has already been well said, or that is simply "fine" +language---sentimentality of some sort. Let him ruthlessly cut away +that paragraph, sentence, or phrase, and then re-read. It is almost +startling to observe how the removal or addition of a single phrase will +change the effect of a description covering many pages. + +But often a long composition will lack harmony of structure, +a fault very different from any we have mentioned, Hitherto we have +spoken of definite faults that must be cut out. It is as often +necessary to make additions. + +In the first place, each paragraph must be balanced within itself. +The language must be fluent and varied, and each thought or suggestion +must flow easily and smoothly into the next, unless abruptness is used +for a definite purpose. Likewise each successive stage of a description +or dialogue must have its relative as well as its intrinsic value. +The writer must study carefully the proportions of the parts, +and nicely adjust and harmonize each to the other. Every paragraph, +every sentence, every phrase and word, should have its own distinct and +clear meaning, and the writer should never allow himself to be in doubt +as to the need or value of this or that. + +To secure harmony of style and structure is a matter of personal +judgment and study. Though rules for it cannot be given, it will be +found to be a natural result of following all the principles of grammar, +rhetoric, and composition. But the hard work involved in securing this +proportion and harmony of structure can never be avoided or evaded without +disastrous consequences. Toil, toil, toil! That should be every writer's +motto if be aspires to success, even in the simplest forms of writing. + +The ambitious writer will not learn harmony of style from any single +short selection, however perfect such a composition may be in itself. +It requires persistent reading, as well as very thoughtful reading, +of the masters of perfect style. Two such masters are especially to be +recommended,---Irving and Hawthorne. And among their works, the best +for such study are "The Sketchbook," especially Rip Van Winkle and +Legend of Sleepy Hollow, by Irving, and "The Scarlet Letter" and such +short stories as "The Great Stone Face," by Hawthorne. To these may be +added Thackeray's "Vanity Fair," Scott's "Ivanhoe," and Lamb's "Essays +of Elia." These books should be read and re-read many times; and +whenever any composition is to be tested, it may conveniently be +compared as to style to some part of one or other of these books. + +In conclusion we would say that the study of too many masterpieces is +an error. It means that none of them are fully absorbed or mastered. +The selections here given,* together with the volumes recommended above, +may of course be judiciously supplemented if occasion requires; +but as a rule, these will be found ample. Each type should be studied +and mastered, one type after another. It would be a mistake to omit any +one, even if it is a type that does not particularly interest the +student, and is one he thinks he will never wish to use in its purity: +mastery of it will enrich any other style that may be chosen: +If it is found useful for shaping no more than a single sentence, it is +to be remembered that that sentence may shape the destinies of a life. + + *A fuller collection of the masterpieces of style than the present +volume contains may be found in "The Best English Essays," +edited by Sherwin Cody. + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +IMAGINATION AND REALITY.---THE AUDIENCE. + +So far we have given our attention to style, the effective use of words. + +We will now consider some of those general principles of thought end +expression which are essential to distinctively literary composition; +and first the relation between imagination and reality, or actuality. + +In real life a thousand currents cross each other, and counter cross, +and cross again. Life is a maze of endless continuity, to which, +nevertheless, we desire to find some key. Literature offers us a +picture of life to which there is a key, and by some analogy it suggests +explanations of real life. It is of far more value to be true to the +principles of life than to the outer facts. The outer facts are +fragmentary and uncertain, mere passing suggestions, signs in the +darkness. The principles of life are a clew of thread which may guide +the human judgment through many dark and difficult places. +It is to these that the artistic writer must be true. + +In the real incident the writer sees an idea which he thinks may +illustrate a principle he knows of. The observed fact must illustrate +the principle, but he must shape it to that end. A carver takes a block +of wood and sets out to make a vase. First he cuts away all the useless +parts: The writer should reject all the useless facts connected with his +story and reserve only what illustrates his idea. Often, however, the +carver finds his block of wood too small, or imperfect. Perfect blocks +of wood are rare, and so are perfect stories in real life. The carver +cuts out the imperfect part and fits in a new piece of wood. Perhaps +the whole base of his vase must be made of another piece and screwed on. + +It is quite usual that the whole setting of a story must come from +another source. One has observed life in a thousand different phases, +just as a carver has accumulated about him scores of different pieces +of wood varying in shape and size to suit almost any possible need. +When a carver makes a vase he takes one block for the main portion, +the starting point in his work, and builds up the rest from that. +The writer takes one real incident as the chief one, and perfects it +artistically by adding dozens of other incidents that he has observed. +The writer creates only in the sense that the wood carver creates his +vase. He does not create ideas cut of nothing, any more than the carver +creates the separate blocks of wood. The writer may coin his own soul +into substance for his stories, but creating out of one's mind and +creating out of nothing are two very different things. The writer +observes himself, notices how his mind works, how it behaves under given +circumstances, and that gives him material exactly the same in kind as +that which he gains from observing the working of other people's mind. + +But the carver in fashioning a vase thinks of the effect it will produce +when it is finished, on the mind of his customer or on the mind of any +person who appreciates beauty; and his whole end and aim is for this +result. He cuts out what he thinks will hinder, and puts in what he +thinks will help. He certainly does a great deal more than present +polished specimens of the various kinds of woods he has collected. +The creative writer---who intends to do something more than present +polished specimens of real life---must work on the same plan. +He must write for his realer, for his audience. + +But just what is it to write for an audience? The essential element in +it is some message a somebody. A message is of no value unless it is +to somebody be particular. Shouting messages into the air when you do +not know whether any one is at hand to hear would be equally foolish +whether a writer gave forth his message of inspiration in that way, or +a telegraph boy shouted his message in front of the telegraph off{i}ce +in the hope that the man to whom the message was addressed might be +passing, or that some of him friends might overhear it. + +The newspaper reporter goes to see a fire, finds out all about it, writes +it up, and sends it to his paper. The paper prints it for the readers, +who are anxious to know what the fire was and the damage it did. +The reporter does not write it up in the spirit of doing it for the +pleasure there is in nor does he allow himself to do it in the manner his +mood dictates. He writes so that certain people will get certain facts and +ideas. The facts he had nothing to do with creating, nor did he make the +desire of the people. He was simply a messenger, a purveyor. + +The producer of literature, we have said, must write for an audience; +but he does not go and hunt up his audience, find out its needs, and +then tell to it his story. He simple writes for the audience that he +knows, which others have prepared for him. To know human life, to know +what people really need, is work for a genius. It resembles the +building up of a daily paper, with its patronage and its study of the +public pulse. But the reporter has little or nothing to do with that. +Likewise the ordinary writer should not trouble himself about so large +a problem, at least until he has mastered the simpler ones. +Writing for an audience if one wants to get printed in a certain +magazine is writing those things which one finds by experience the +readers of that magazine, as represented in the editor, want to read. +Or one may write with his mind on those readers of the magazine whom he +knows personally. The essential point is that the effective writer must +cease to think of himself when he begins to write, and turn his mental +vision steadily upon the likes or needs of his possible readers, +selecting some definite reader in particular if need be. At any rate, +he must not write vaguely for people he does not know. If he please these +he does know, he may also please many he does not know. The best he can do +is to take the audience he thoroughly understands, though it be an audience +of one, and write for that audience something that will be of value, +in the way of amusement or information or inspiration. + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +THE USE OF MODELS IN WRITING FICTION. + +We have seen how a real incident is worked over into the fundamental +idea for a composition. The same principle ought to hold in the use of +real persons in making the characters in, a novel, or any story where +character-drawing is an important item. In a novel especially, +the characters must be drawn with the greatest care. They must be made +genuine personages. Yet the ill-taste of "putting your friends into a +story" is only less pronounced than the bad art or drawing characters +purely out of the imagination. There is no art in the slavish copying +of persons in real life. Yet it is practically impossible to create +genuine characters in the mind without reference to real life. +The simple solution would seem to be to follow the method of the painter +who uses models, though in so doing he does not make portraits. +There was a time in drawing when the school of "out-of-the-headers" +prevailed, but their work was often grotesque, imperfect, and sometimes +utterly futile in expressing even the idea the artist had in mind. +The opposite extreme in graphic art is photography. The rational use +of models is the happy mean between the two. But the good artist always +draws with his eye on the object, and the good writer should write with +his eye on a definite conception or some real thing or person, +from which he varies consciously and for artistic purpose. + +The ordinary observer sees first the peculiarities of a thing. +If he is looking at an old gentleman he sees a fly sitting upon the +bald spot on his head, a wart on his nose, his collar pulled up behind. +But the trained and artistic observer sees the peculiarly perfect +outline of the old man's features and form, and in the tottering, +gait bent shoulders, and soiled senility a straight, handsome youth, +fastidious in his dress and perfect in his form. Such the old man +was once, and all the elements of his broken youth are clearly visible +under the hapless veneer of time for the one who has an eye to see. +This is but one illustration of many that might be offered. +A poor shop girl may have the bearing of a princess. Among New York +illustrators the typical model for a society girl is a young woman of +the most ordinary birth and breeding, misfortunes which are clearly +visible in her personal appearance. But she has the bearing, the air of +the social queen, and to the artist she is that alone. He does not see +the veneer of circumstances, though the real society girl would see +nothing else in her humble artistic rival. + +In drawing characters the writer has a much larger range of models from +which to choose, in one sense. His models are the people he knows by +personal association day by day during various periods of his life, +from childhood up. Each person he has known has left an impression on +his mind, and that impression is the thing he considers. The art of +painting requires the actual presence in physical person of the model, +a limitation the writer fortunately does not have. At the same time, +the artist of the brush can seek new models and bring them into his +studio without taking too much time or greatly inconveniencing himself. +The writer can get new models only by changing his whole mode of life. +Travel is an excellent thing, yet practically it proves inadequate. +The fleeting impressions do not remain, and only what remains steadily +and permanently in the mind can be used as a model by the novelist. + +But during a lifetime one accumulates a large number of models simply +by habitually observing everything that comes in one's way. When the +writer takes up {the} pen to produce a story, he searches through his +mental collection for a suitable model. Sometimes it is necessary to +use several models in drawing the same character, one for this +characteristic, and another for that. But in writing the novelist +should have his eye on his model just as steadily and persistently as +the painter, for so alone can he catch the spirit and inner truth of +nature; and art. If it is anything, is the interpretation of nature. +The ideal character must be made the interpretation of the real one, +not a photographic copy, not idealization or glorification or +caricature, unless the idealization or glorification or caricature has +a definite value in the interpretation. + + +CHAPTER XV. + +CONTRAST. + +In all effective writing contrast is far more than a figure of speech: +it is an essential element in making strength. A work of literary art +without contrast may have all the elements of construction, style, and +originality of idea, but it will be weak, narrow, limp. The truth is, +contrast is the measure of the breadth of one's observation. We often +think of it as a figure of speech, a method of language which we use for +effect. A better view of it is as a measure of breadth. You have a +dark, wicked man on one side, and a fair, sunny, sweet woman on the +other. These are two extremes, a contrast, and they include all +between. If a writer understands these extremes he understands all +between, and if in a story he sets up one type against another he in a +way marks out those extremes as the boundaries of his intellectual +field, and he claims all within them. If the contrast is great, +he claims a great field; if feeble, then he has only a narrow field. + +Contrast and one's power of mastering it indicate one's breadth of +thought and especially the breadth of one's thinking in a particular +creative attempt. Every writer should strive for the greatest possible +breadth, for the greater his breadth the more people there are who will +be interested in his work. Narrow minds interest a few people, and +broad minds interest correspondingly many. The best way to cultivate +breadth is to cultivate the use of contrast in your writing. + +But to assume a breadth which one does not have, to pass from one +extreme to another without perfect mastery of all that lies between, +results in being ridiculous. It is like trying to extend the range of +the voice too far. One desires a voice with the greatest possible +range; but if in forcing the voice up one breaks into a falsetto, +the effect is disastrous. So in seeking range of character expression +one must be very careful not to break into a falsetto, while straining +the true voice to its utmost in order to extend its range. + +Let us now pass from the contrast of characters and situations of the +most general kind to contrasts of a more particular sort. Let us +consider the use of language first. Light conversation must not last +too long or it becomes monotonous, as we all know. But if the writer +can pass sometimes rapidly from tight conversation to serious narrative, +both the light dialogue and the serious seem the more expressive for the +contrast. The only thing to be considered is, can you do it with +perfect ease and grace? If you cannot, better let it alone. +Likewise, the long sentence may be used in one paragraph, +and a fine contrast shown by using very short sentences in the next. + +But let us distinguish between variety and contrast. +The writer may pass from long sentences to short ones when the reader +has tired of long ones, and _vice versa,_ he may pass from a tragic +character to a comic one in order to rest the mind of the reader. +In this there will be no very decided contrast. But when the two +extremes are brought close together, are forced together perhaps, +then we have an electric effect. To use contrast well requires great +skill in the handling of language, for contrast means passing from one +extreme to another in a very short space, and if this, passing is not +done gracefully, the whole effect is spoiled. + +What has been said of contrast in language, character, etc., +may also be applied to contrasts in any small detail, incident, +or even simile. Let us examine a few of the contrasts in Maupassant, +for he is a great adept in their use. + +Let us take the opening paragraph of "The Necklace" and see what a +marvel of contrast it is: "She was one of those pretty and charming +girls who are sometimes, as if by a mistake of destiny, born in a family +of clerks. She had no dowry, no expectations, no means of being known, +understood, loved, wedded, by any rich and distinguished man; and she +had let herself be married to a little clerk in the Ministry of Public +Instruction." Notice "pretty and charming"--- "family of clerks." +These two contrasted ideas (implied ideas, of course) are gracefully +linked by "as if by a mistake of destiny." Then the author goes on to +mention what the girl did not have in a way that implies that she ought +to have had all these things. She could not be wedded to "any rich and +distinguished man"; "she let herself be married to a little clerk." + +The whole of the following description of Madam Loisel is one mass of +clever contrasts of the things she might have been, wanted to be, with +what she was and had. A little farther on, however, we get a different +sort of contrast. Though poor, she has a rich friend. Then her husband +brings home an invitation at which he is perfectly delighted. +Immediately she is shown wretched, a striking contrast. He is shown +patient; she is irritated. She is selfish in wishing a dress and +finery; he is unselfish in giving up his gun and the shooting. + +With the ball the author gives us a description of Madam Loisel having +all she had dreamed of having. Her hopes are satisfied completely, +it appears, until suddenly, when she is about to go away, the fact of +her lack of wraps contrasts tellingly with her previous attractiveness. +These two little descriptions---one of the success of the ball, one of +hurrying away in shame, the wretched cab and all---are a most +forcible contrast, and most skilfully and naturally represented. +The previous happiness is further set into relief by the utter +wretchedness she experiences upon discovering the loss of the necklace. + +Then we have her new life of hard work, which we contrast in mind not only +with what she had really been having, but with that which she had dreamed +of having, had seemed about to realize, and had suddenly lost for ever. + +Then at last we have the contrast, elaborate, strongly drawn and +telling, between Madam Loisel after ten years and her friend, +who represents in flesh and blood what she might have been. +Then at the end comes the short, sharp contrast of paste and diamonds. + +In using contrast one does not have to search for something to set up +against something else. Every situation has a certain breadth, it has +two sides, whether they are far apart or near together. To give the +real effect of a conception it is necessary to pass from one side to the +other very rapidly and frequently, for only in so doing can one keep the +whole situation in mind. One must see the whole story, both sides and +all in between, at the same time. The more one sees at the same time, +the more of life one grasps and the more invigorating is the +composition. The use of contrast is eminently a matter of acquired +skill, and when one has become skilful he uses contrast unconsciously +and with the same effort that he makes his choice of words. + + + +APPENDIX + +Errors in the Use of Words. + +_All of_. Omit the _of_. + +_Aggravate_. Does not mean _provoke_ or _irritate_. + +_Among one another_. This phrase is illogical. + +_And who_. Omit the _and_ unless there is a preceding _who_ to which +this is an addition. + +_Another from_. Should be _another then_. + +_Anyhow,_ meaning _at any rate,_ is not to be used in literary composition. + +_Any place_. Incorrect for _anywhere_. + +_At_. We live _at_ a small place, _in_ a large one, and usually _arrive +at,_ not _in_. + +_Avocation_. Not to be confused with _vocation,_ a main calling, +since _avocation_ is a side calling. + +_Awful_ does not mean _very_. + +_Back out_. An Americanism for _withdraw_. + +_Balance_. Not proper for _remainder,_ but only for _that which makes +equal_. + +_Beginner_. Never say _new beginner_. + +_Beside; besides_. The first means _by the side of,_ the second _in +addition to_. + +_Be that as it will_. Say, _be that as it may_. + +_Blame on_. We may lay the _blame on,_ but we cannot _blame it on_ any +one. + +_But what_. Should be _but that_. + +_Calculate_. Do not use for _intend_. + +_Can_. Do not use for _may_. "_May_ I go with you?" not "_Can_ I go with +you?" + +_Clever_. Does not mean _good-natured,_ but _talented_. + +_Demean_. Means to _behave,_ not to _debase_ or _degrade_. + +_Disremember_. Now obsolete. + +_Don't_. Not to be used for _doesn't,_ after a singular subject such as +he. + +_Else_. Not follow by _but_; say, "nothing else _than_ pride." + +_Expect_. Do not use for _think,_ as in "I _expect_ it is so." + +_Fetch_. Means to _go and bring,_ hence _go and fetch_ is wrong. + +_Fix_. Not used for _arrange_ or the like, as "fix the furniture." + +_From_. Say, "He died of cholera," not _from_. + +_Got_. Properly you "have _got_" what you made an effort to get, +not what you merely "have." + +_Graduate_. Say, "The man _is graduated_ from college," +and "The college _graduates_ the man." + +_Had ought. Ought_ never requires any part of the verb _to have_. + +_Had rather, had better_. Disputed, but used by good writers. + +_Handy_. Does not mean near _by_. + +_In so far as_. Omit the _in_. + +_Kind of_. After these two words omit _a,_ and say, "What kind of man," +not "What kind of _a_ man." Also, do not say, "_kind_ of tired." + +_Lady_. Feminine for _lord,_ therefore do not speak of a "sales-lady," +"a man and his lady," etc. + +_Last; latter_. We say _latter_ of two, in preference to _last;_ +but _last_ of three. + +_Lay; lie_. We _lay_ a thing down, but we ourselves _lie_ down; we say, +"He laid the Bible on the table," but "He lay down on the couch;" +"The coat has been laid away," and "It has lain in the drawer." +_Lay, laid, laid_--takes an object; _lie, lay, lain_--does not. + +_Learn_. Never used as an active verb with an object, a in +"I _learned_ him his letters." We say, "He _learned_ his letters," +and "I _taught_ him his letters." + +_Learned_. "A _learned_ man"--pronounce _learn-ed_ with two syllables; +but "He has _learned_ his lesson"--one syllable. + +_Like_. Do not say, "Do _like_ I do." Use _as_ when a conjunction is +required. + +_Lives_. Do not say, "I had just as _lives_ as not," but "I had just as +_Lief_." + +_Lot_. Does not mean _many,_ as in "a _lot_ of men," but one _division,_ +as, "in that lot." + +_Lovely_. Do not overwork this word. A rose may be _lovely,_ but hardly +a plate of soup. + +_Mad_. We prefer to say _angry_ if we mean out _of temper_. + +_Mistaken_. Some critics insist that it is wrong to say "I am mistaken" +when we mean "I mistake." + +_Love_. We _like_ candy rather than _love_ it. Save Love for something +higher. + +_Most_. In writing, do not use _'most_ for _almost_. + +_Mutual friend_. Though Dickens used this expression in one of his +titles in the sense of common _friend,_ it is considered incorrect by +many critics. The proper meaning of _mutual_ is reciprocal. + +_Nothing Like_. Do not say, "Nothing _like_ as handsome." + +_Of all others_. Not proper after a superlative; as, "greatest of all +others," the meaning being "the greatest of all," or "great above all +others." + +_Only_. Be careful not to place this word so that its application will +be doubtful, as in "His mother only spoke to him," meaning "Only his +mother." + +_On to_. Not one word like _into_. Use it as you would on and to +together. + +_Orate_. Not good usage. + +_Plenty_. Say, "Fruit was plentiful," not "plenty." + +_Preventative_. Should be _preventive_. + +_Previous_. Say, "previously to," not "previous to." Also, do not say, +"He was too previous"--it is a pure vulgarism. + +_Providing_. Say, "_Provided_ he has money," not "Providing." + +_Propose_. Do not confuse with _purpose_. One proposes a plan, +but _purposes_ to do something, though it is also possible a _propose,_ +or make a proposition, to do something. + +_Quite_. Do not say, "Quite a way," or "Quite a good deal," but reserve +the word for such phrases as "Quite sure," "Quite to the edge," etc. + +_Raise; rise_. Never tell a person to "raise up," meaning +"raise himself up," but to "rise up." Also, do not speak of +"raising children," though we may "raise horses." + +_Scarcely_. Do not say, "I shall scarcely (hardly) finish before night," +though it is proper to use it of time, as in "I saw him scarcely an hour +ago." + +_Seldom or ever_. Incorrect for "seldom if ever." + +_Set; sit_. We _set_ the cup down, and sit down ourselves. +The hen _sits;_ the sun _sets_; a dress _sits_. + +_Sewerage; sewage_. The first means the system of sewers, +the second the waste matter. + +_Some_. Do not say, "I am _some_ tired," "I like it _some,_" etc. + +_Stop_. Say, "Stay in town," not "_Stop in town_." + +_Such another_. Say "another such." + +_They_. Do not refer to _any one,_ by _they, their,_ or _them;_ as in +"If any one wishes a cup of tea, they may get it in the next room." +Say, "If any one . . he may . . ." + +_Transpire_. Does not mean "occur," and hence we do not say +"Many events transpired that year." We may say, "It transpired that he +had been married a year." + +_Unique_. The word means _single, alone, the only one_ so we cannot say, +"very unique," or the like. + +_Very_. Say, "_very_ much pleased," not "_very_ pleased," +though the latter usage is sustained by some authorities. + +_Ways_. Say, "a long _way,_" not "a long _ways_." + +_Where_. A preposition of place is not required with where, +and it is considered incorrect to say, "Where is he gone to?" + +_Whole of_. Omit the _of_. + +_Without_. Do not say, "Without it rains," etc., in the sense of unless, +except. + +_Witness_. Do not say, "He witnessed a bull-fight"; reserve it for +"witnessing a signature," and the like. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Art Of Writing & Speaking The +English Language, by Sherwin Cody + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ART OF WRITING *** + +***** This file should be named 19719.txt or 19719.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/7/1/19719/ + +Produced by Andrew Hodson + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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