LITMIR.BIZ

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theses, most histories, many magazine articles, and newspaper leaders are of this class of literature.

      Argument is that form of discourse which has for its object the proof of the truth or falsity of a proposition.

      Persuasion is that form of discourse the purpose of which is to influence the will.

       Difficulty in distinguishing. Though these definitions seem to set apart the great classes of literature, and to insure against any danger of confusion, it is not always easy to place individual pieces of literature in one of these divisions. Whittier’s “Barbara Frietchie” and Stevenson’s “Treasure Island” are narrative beyond any question; but what about “Snow-Bound” and “Travels with a Donkey” by the same authors? Are they narration or description? In them the narrative and descriptive portions are so nearly equal that one hesitates to set them down to either class; the reader is constantly called from beautiful pictures to delightful stories. The narrative can easily be separated from the descriptive portions; but when this has been done, has it been decided whether the whole piece is narration or description?

      When a person takes up the other forms of discourse, the difficulty becomes still greater. Description and narration are frequently used in exposition. If a boy should be asked to explain the working of a steam engine, he would, in all likelihood, begin with a description of an engine. If his purpose was to explain how an engine works, and was not to tell how an engine looks, the whole composition would be exposition. So, too, it is often the easiest way to explain what one means by telling a story. The expression of such thoughts would be exposition, although it might contain a number of stories and descriptions.

      Narration and description may be found in a piece of exposition; and all three may be employed in argument. If a person should wish to prove the dangers of intemperance, he might enforce his proof by a story, or by a description of the condition of the nervous system after a drunken revel. And one does not need to do more than explain the results of intemperance to a sensible man to prove to him that he should avoid all excesses. The explanation alone is argument enough for such a person. Still, is such an explanation exposition or argument? If the man cared nothing about convincing another that there are dangers in intemperance, did not wish to prove that the end of intemperance is death and dishonor, the composition is as much exposition as the explanation of a steam engine. If, on the other hand, he explained these results in order to convince another that he should avoid intemperance, then the piece is argument.

      Persuasion introduces a new element into composition; for, while exposition and argument are directed to a man’s reason, persuasion is addressed to the emotions and the will. Its purpose is to arouse to action. One can readily imagine that a simple explanation of the evils of intemperance might be quite enough to convince a man that its dangers are truly great,—so great that he would determine to fight these evils with all his strength. In such a case explanation alone has convinced him; and it has aroused him to do something. Is the piece exposition, or argument, or persuasion? Here, as before, the answer is found in the purpose of the author. If he intended only to explain, the piece is exposition; if to convince, it is argument; if to arouse to action, it belongs to the literature of persuasion.

      It must now be plain that few pieces of literature are purely one form of discourse. The forms are mingled in most of our literature. Hardly a story can be found that does not contain some descriptions; and a description of any considerable length is sure to contain some narrative portions. So, too, narration and description are often found in exposition, argument, and persuasion; and these last three forms are frequently combined.

Purpose of the Author. It must also be evident that the whole piece of literature will best be classified by discovering the purpose of the author. If his purpose is simply to tell a good story, his work is narration; if the purpose is merely to place a picture before the reader’s mind, it is description; if to explain conditions and nothing more, it is exposition; if to prove to the reason the truth or falsity of a proposition, it is argument; while, if the writer addresses himself to the emotions and the will, no matter whether he tells anecdotes or paints lurid pictures, explains conditions or convinces of the dangers of the present course,—if he does all these to urge the reader to do something, the composition belongs to the literature of persuasion. The five forms of discourse are most easily distinguished by discovering the purpose of the author.

      One addition should be made. Few novels are written in which there is nothing more than a story. Nearly all contain some teaching; and it is a safe conclusion that the authors have taught “on purpose.” In “Baa, Baa, Black Sheep,” Kipling has shown the imperative necessity of a “real, live, lovely mamma;” in “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” Irving has placed before us a charming picture of rural life in a dreamy Dutch village on the Hudson; and in his “Christmas Carol,” Dickens shows plainly that happiness is not bought and sold even in London, and that the only happy man is he who shares with another’s need. Yet all of these, and the hundreds of their kind, whatever the purpose of the authors when writing them, belong to the “story” or “novel” class. The purpose in telling the story is secondary to the purpose to tell a story. They are to be classified as narration.

      English composition, then, is a study of the selection and arrangement of ideas, and of the methods of using the English language to communicate them. All composition is divided into five great classes. These classes have broad lines of distinction, which are most easily applied by determining the purpose of the author.

CHAPTER II

      CHOICE OF SUBJECT

      Form and Material. From the considerations in the preceding chapter may be derived several principles regarding the choice of subject. If the composition is to be narrative, it should be upon a subject that readily lends itself to narrative form. One can tell a story about “A Day’s Hunt” or “What We did Hallowe’en;” but it would try one’s powers of imagination to write a story of “A Tree” or “A Chair.” The latter subjects do not lend themselves to narration, but they may be described. Josiah P. Cooke has written a brilliant exposition of “Fire” in “The New Chemistry;” yet a young person would be foolish to take “Fire” as a subject for exposition, though he might easily write a good description of “How the Fire looked from My Window,” or narrate “How a Fireman rescued My Sister.” So in all work in composition, select a subject that readily lends itself to the form of discourse demanded; or, conversely, select the form of discourse suitable for presenting most effectively your material.

       Author’s Individuality. If an author is writing for other purposes than for conscious practice, he should choose the form of discourse in which he can best work, and to which he can best shape his material. Some men tell stories well; others are debaters; while yet others are wonderfully gifted with eloquence. Emerson understood life thoroughly. He knew man’s feelings, his motives, his hopes, his strength, his weakness; yet one cannot imagine Emerson shaping this material into a novel. But just a little way down the road lived a wizard who could transmute the commonest events of this workaday world to the most beautiful shapes; no one wishes that Hawthorne had written essays. The second principle guiding in the choice of a subject is this: Select a subject which is suited to your peculiar ability as an author.

      Knowledge of Subject. The form, then, should suit the matter; and it should be the form in which the author can work. There is a third principle that should guide in the choice of a subject. It should be a subject of which the author knows something. Pupils often exclaim, “What can I write about!” as if they were expected to find something new to write. An exercise in composition has not for its object the proclaiming of any new and unheard-of thing; it is an exercise in the expression of things already known. Even when the subject is known, the treatment offers difficulties enough. It is not true that what is thoroughly understood is easily explained. Many excellent scholars have written very poor text-books because they had not learned the art of expression. A necessary antecedent of all good composition is a full and accurate knowledge of the subject; and even when one knows all about it, the clear expression of the thought will be difficult enough.

      To demand accurate knowledge of the subject before an author begins work upon it narrows the field from which themes may be drawn. Burroughs is an authority on

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