WORDS, SENTENCES, PARAGRAPHS
+28. English Composite.+ The English language is composite, its words
being drawn from various sources. The original and principal element is
Anglo-Saxon, which prevailed in England for about five hundred years. By
the conquest of William of Normandy, French was introduced into England,
and was spoken by the ruling classes for about three hundred years. The
amalgamation of the Anglo-Saxon and the Norman French--a process that
was fairly completed in the fourteenth century--resulted in modern
English. But numerous words came in from other sources. The early
introduction of Roman Christianity into England, and the revival of
learning at the close of the Middle Ages, introduced a large Latin
element. The Celtic population of the British Isles contributed a few
words, such as _pibroch_, _clan_, _bard_. A considerable Greek element
has been introduced by theology and science, and English conquests and
commerce have introduced words from almost every portion of the globe,
of which _pagoda_, _bazaar_, _veda_, _bamboo_, _taboo_, and _raccoon_
will serve as examples.
The composite character of our language has made it very copious and
very interesting. No other language has so many words, our largest
dictionaries defining more than a hundred thousand. Every word has its
history, and often a very interesting one. _Raccoon_, for instance,
takes us back to the adventures of the redoubtable John Smith in
Virginia. The word _bishop_ carries us back to the introduction of
Christianity among the Anglo-Saxons at the close of the sixth century,
and then through the Latin to the primitive days of the Church, when an
_episkopos_, or overseer, presided over the newly founded congregations
in the leading cities of Greece. _Taboo_ reminds us of English
explorations and conquests in the islands of the Pacific. Thus nearly
every word may be traced to its source and, rightly understood, is
freighted with tales of conquest, battle, exploration, commerce,
science, and invention. It carries with it its meaning and atmosphere of
association, which the intelligent and skillful writer knows how to use
to advantage.
+29. Anglo-Saxon and Latin Elements.+ The Anglo-Saxon or Teutonic
element of our language embraces about sixty per cent of the words in
common use. It may be regarded as the trunk, on which the other elements
have been grafted as branches. The Latin element embraces about thirty
per cent of an ordinary vocabulary, nearly two thirds of which, or about
twenty per cent, comes through the French. The question has been raised
as to which element is preferable. Should a writer's style be Saxonized
or Latinized?
No absolute rule can be laid down. The two elements supplement each
other. In general the Anglo-Saxon element comprises concrete terms, and
the Latin element abstract terms. As Trench has pointed out, "The great
features of nature, sun, moon, and stars, earth, water, and fire; the
divisions of time; three out of the four seasons, spring, summer, and
winter; the features of natural scenery, the words used in earliest
childhood, the simpler emotions of the mind; all the prime social
relations, father, mother, husband, wife, son, daughter, brother,
sister,--these are of native growth and unborrowed."[57:1]
It is thus seen that the Anglo-Saxon element is full of force in its
presentation of definite concrete objects; and it is a noteworthy fact
that our best writers use a large proportion of native words. In
ordinary discourse none of our best writers, perhaps, fall below seventy
per cent of Anglo-Saxon. But in philosophy, which deals largely with
abstract ideas, the Anglo-Saxon element, as in passages from Herbert
Spencer, may fall as low as sixty per cent. It is interesting to
estimate the percentage of Anglo-Saxon or Latin in an author. This may
easily be done by counting the number of words in a given passage for
the denominator, and the number of Anglo-Saxon or Latin words for the
numerator of a common fraction, which may then be reduced to a decimal.
+30. What Element to Choose.+ A writer's style should be determined by
higher considerations than the deliberate purpose to use as far as
possible any single element of our language. Such a purpose degenerates
into affectation, and becomes a mannerism. The following extract from a
sonnet by Addison Alexander shows what may be done by short Anglo-Saxon
words; but, because of its lack of musical rhythm and fine poetic
quality, it is not to be commended as a model:
"Think not that strength lies in the big round word,
Or that the brief and plain must needs be weak.
To whom can this be true who once has heard
The cry for help, the tongue that all men speak
When want, or woe, or fear, is in the throat,
So that each word gasped out is like a shriek
Pressed from the sore heart, or a strange wild note
Sung by some fay or fiend."
With this may be compared the following lines from a sonnet by
Longfellow, in which the musical effect of the Latin element will be
clearly recognized:
"I saw the long line of the _vacant_ shore,
And the sea-weed and the shells upon the sand,
And the brown rocks left bare on every hand,
As if the ebbing tide would flow no more.
Then heard I, more _distinctly_ than before,
The ocean breathe and its great breast _expand_,
And hurrying came on the _defenceless_ land
The _insurgent_ waters with _tumultuous_ roar."
The use of Latin words often gives clearness and melody to style; and
instead of a violent effort to Saxonize his writing, an author should
clothe his thoughts in the diction that is most fitting and expressive.
+31. Diction.+ Aristotle truly said that "the beginning of style is
correctness of diction." By diction is meant the choice and use of
words. Good diction lies at the basis of good writing. Words are used to
express ideas; and in view of this fundamental principle, it follows
that they should be intelligible and correct. They should belong to our
language; and hence the use of foreign words and phrases, except to
supply a real want in English, is generally in bad taste. The use of
provincial expressions, such as _tote_ for _carry_, is to be avoided,
except in the portrayal of provincial character. Archaic words, as well
as those that have not yet established themselves, should not be
employed. For these two classes of words Pope has laid down an excellent
rule in his "Essay on Criticism":
"In words, as fashions, the same rule will hold,
Alike fantastic, if too new or old;
Be not the first by whom the new are tried,
Nor yet the last to lay the old aside."
There is sometimes an obvious effort among young or half-cultured
writers to seek after unusual words.
Unless the purpose of discourse is to be defeated, it is evident that
the words used by a writer should have their accepted and exact meaning.
The study of etymology, though sometimes misleading, is very helpful in
learning the exact force of words. There are very few words in our
language that are exactly synonymous; and while synonyms are often
loosely used, the skillful writer is careful to distinguish their
different shades of meaning. This nice use of words, impossible to the
uncultivated mind, adds an exquisite charm to writing.
A very common fault of diction results in what is called "fine writing."
This fault consists in the choice of high-sounding words to express
commonplace ideas. It is the besetting vice of half-educated writers. In
the hands of such persons a "fair lady" becomes a "female possessing
considerable personal attractions," and "drinking liquor" turns into
"ingurgitating spirituous stimulus." Except for purposes of wit or
humor, this affectation is not to be tolerated.
+32. Sentences.+ In reading various authors, it is readily observed that
they use different kinds of sentences. Some writers use short sentences,
others long and complicated sentences. In comparing recent authors with
those of two or three centuries ago, it will generally be found that
shorter sentences are now more frequent. This brevity and simplicity of
predication has resulted in greater clearness. But the constant use of
short, simple sentences produces a disagreeable monotony.
Sentences are rhetorically distinguished as _loose_, _periodic_, and
_balanced_. A _loose_ sentence is one in which the meaning is complete
at one or more points before the end. Thus, at the beginning of
"Pilgrim's Progress," we read: "As I walked through the wilderness of
this world, I lighted on a certain place where was a den, and laid me
down in that place to sleep; and as I slept, I dreamed a dream."
A _periodic_ sentence holds the meaning in suspense till the close. For
example, Macaulay writes: "If any man could have succeeded in this
attempt, a man of talents so rare, of judgments so prematurely ripe, of
temper so calm, and of manners so plausible, might have been expected to
succeed."
A _balanced_ sentence consists of two parts, the one corresponding to
the other. In Johnson's famous parallel we read: "The style of Dryden is
capricious and varied, that of Pope is cautious and uniform; Dryden
obeys the motions of his own mind, Pope constrains his mind to his own
rules of composition. Dryden is sometimes vehement and rapid; Pope is
always smooth, uniform, and gentle."
A good style is apt to make use of all three kinds of sentences, which
give an agreeable diversity to composition. The exclusive use of any one
form produces monotony. In studying a writer's style, it is important to
determine the prevailing type, as well as the average length, of his
sentences. This investigation will give us some insight into a source of
his weakness or power, and furnish a basis of interesting comparison
with others.
Every sentence should have _clearness_, _unity_, _harmony_, and
_strength_. Of these four qualities, _clearness_ is the most important;
for without it the purpose of discourse is defeated. Apart from the
right choice and position of words, clearness is secured by _unity_ of
thought. This requires that the main subject retain a dominant place
throughout the sentence. The writer should not allow himself to be
switched off from the main proposition. _Harmony_ is attained by the
choice of euphonious words, and by their arrangement in an agreeable or
rhythmical order. _Strength_ is secured, in large measure, by the
omission of unnecessary words. The error of repeating the same thought
in different words is called _tautology_, while the use of more words
than are necessary is known as _pleonasm_ or _redundancy_. The fault of
redundancy is most likely to be found in the use of adjectives; and a
chaste or classic style appears particularly in a severe self-restraint
in the use of qualifying expressions.
+33. Paragraph.+ A paragraph consists of a group of sentences related in
thought. It contains the discussion of a single phase of the subject.
The nature of the paragraph determines its laws. The paragraph, like
each sentence, should be characterized by unity. The opening sentence
should contain the subject, or phase of the subject, to be discussed.
The succeeding treatment should be cumulative in character, so that the
reader is led on by a sense of the unfolding of the point under
consideration.
There are various ways of expanding or building up the paragraph. It may
be expanded by a process of definition. Frequently one specification
after another is given till all sides of the subject have been
presented. Sometimes a general statement is followed by concrete and
individual instances. Again, the development of the paragraph takes the
form of proof or illustration. But whatever may be the form of
development, it should grow in importance till the conclusion.
The importance of paragraphing is often lost sight of by even
experienced writers. Sometimes there is an absence of clear, definite
thought. Hence it happens that we frequently find whole pages without
any break to indicate the transitions of thought. Such writing is apt to
leave a confused or obscure impression.
FOOTNOTES:
[57:1] Trench's "Study of Words," 155.
REVIEW QUESTIONS
28. Why is the English language called composite? Which is the principal
element? How was French introduced? What was the origin of our present
English? Whence came the Latin element? Name some other elements and
their sources. What is said of the copiousness of our language? of the
history of words? Give illustrations. 29. What per cent in daily use is
Anglo-Saxon? What per cent is Latin? What proportion of the Latin
element comes through the French? Which element is preferable? What
classes of words are Anglo-Saxon? What per cent of Anglo-Saxon words is
used by our best writers? How do you estimate the percentage? 30. How is
the purpose to use a single element of our language characterized?
Contrast the sonnets of Alexander and Longfellow. What should determine
the writer's choice of words? 31. What did Aristotle say of _diction_?
What is meant by _diction_? What qualities should diction have? What is
said of the use of foreign words and phrases? What is a _provincialism_?
Define _archaism_ and _neologism_. What is Pope's rule in regard to
them? What is said of the study of etymology? of synonyms? of the nice
use of words? What is meant by fine writing? Give an illustration. 32.
What is the difference in the sentences of recent and older writers?
What is the gain in short predication? What is the rhetorical
classification of sentences? Define _loose_, _periodic_, and _balanced_
sentences. Illustrate. What is said of a good style? What four
characteristics should a sentence have? Which is the most important?
Why? What is meant by _unity_? How is _harmony_ attained? How is
strength or energy secured? Explain _tautology_ and _redundancy_. By
what is a classic style characterized? 33. What is a _paragraph_? What
should be its chief characteristic? What should the opening sentence do?
How is the paragraph expanded or developed? What is the effect of bad
paragraphing?
ILLUSTRATIVE AND PRACTICAL EXERCISES
The following extracts should be tested by such questions as these:
What percentage of the words is Anglo-Saxon? What
percentage is Latin? From what sources are there
other words? Is the diction pure, appropriate, and
precise? Are there provincialisms, archaisms,
neologisms? Are synonyms carefully discriminated? Is
the diction high-flown? What proportion of sentences
are simple? complex? compound? What proportion are
_loose_? _periodic_? _balanced_? What is the average
number of words? Are the sentences clear? Do they
show unity of structure? Are they harmonious? Are
they forcible? Can any words be omitted without loss?
Is there tautology or redundancy? Are the paragraphs
well built up? By what means are they developed?
Yea, here they heard continually the singing of birds, and saw
every day the flowers appear in the earth, and heard the voice
of the turtle in the land. In this country the sun shineth
night and day; wherefore this was beyond the valley of the
Shadow of Death, and also out of the reach of Giant Despair;
neither could they from this place so much as see
Doubting-Castle. Here they were within sight of the City they
were going to: also here met them some of the inhabitants
thereof; for in this land the shining ones commonly walked,
because it was upon the borders of heaven.--BUNYAN.
God that made the world and all things therein, seeing that he
is Lord of heaven and earth, dwelleth not in temples made with
hands; neither is worshipped with men's hands, as though he
needed any thing, seeing he giveth to all life, and breath,
and all things; and hath made of one blood all nations of men
for to dwell on all the face of the earth, and hath determined
the times before appointed, and the bounds of their
habitation; that they should seek the Lord, if haply they
might feel after him, and find him, though he be not far from
every one of us; for in him we live, and move, and have our
being; as certain also of your own poets have said, for we are
also his offspring.--PAUL.
Criticism, either didactic or defensive, occupies almost all
his prose, except those pages which he has devoted to his
patrons; but none of his prefaces were ever thought tedious.
They have not the formality of a settled style, in which the
first half of the sentence betrays the other. The clauses are
never balanced, nor the periods modeled; every word seems to
drop by chance, though it falls into its proper place. Nothing
is cold or languid; the whole is airy, animated, and vigorous;
what is little, is gay; and what is great, is splendid. He may
be thought to mention himself too frequently; but while he
forces himself upon our esteem, we cannot refuse him to stand
high in his own. Everything is excused by the play of images
and the spriteliness of expression. Though all is easy,
nothing is feeble; though all seems careless, there is nothing
harsh; and though, since his earlier works, more than a
century has passed, they have nothing yet uncouth or
obsolete.--SAMUEL JOHNSON.
The only accession which the Roman empire received, during the
first century of the Christian era, was the province of
Britain. In this single instance, the successors of Cæsar and
Augustus were persuaded to follow the example of the former,
rather than the precept of the latter. The proximity of its
situation to the coast of Gaul seemed to invite their arms;
the pleasing though doubtful intelligence of a pearl fishery
attracted their avarice; and as Britain was viewed in the
light of a distinct and insulated world, the conquest scarcely
formed any exception to the general system of continental
measures. After a war of about forty years, undertaken by the
most stupid, maintained by the most dissolute, and terminated
by the most timid of all the emperors, the far greater part of
the island submitted to the Roman yoke.
GIBBON.
A mob is a society of bodies voluntarily bereaving themselves
of reason, and traversing its work. The mob is man voluntarily
descending to the nature of the beast. Its fit hour of
activity is night. Its actions are insane, like its whole
constitution. It persecutes a principle; it would whip a
right; it would tar and feather justice by inflicting fire and
outrage upon the houses and persons of those who have these.
It resembles the prank of boys who run with fire-engines to
put out the ruddy aurora streaming to the stars. The inviolate
spirit turns that spite against the wrong-doers. The martyr
cannot be dishonored. Every lash inflicted is a tongue of
fame; every prison a more illustrious abode; every burned book
or house enlightens the world; every suppressed or expunged
word reverberates through the earth from side to side. Hours
of sanity and consideration are always arriving to
communities, as to individuals, when the truth is seen, and
the martyrs are justified.--EMERSON.
I deny not but that it is of greatest concernment, in the
Church and Commonwealth, to have a vigilant eye how books
demean themselves, as well as men; and thereafter to confine,
imprison, and do sharpest justice on them as malefactors. For
books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a potency
of life in them to be as active as that soul was whose progeny
they are; nay, they do preserve as in a vial the purest
efficacy and extraction of that living intellect that bred
them. I know they are as lively, and as vigorously productive,
as those fabulous dragon's teeth; and, being sown up and down,
may chance to spring up armed men. And yet, on the other hand,
unless wariness be used, as good almost kill a man as kill a
good book: who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's
image; but he who destroys a good book kills reason itself,
kills the image of God, as it were, in the eye. Many a man
lives a burden to the earth; but a good book is the precious
life-blood of a master-spirit, embalmed and treasured up on
purpose to a life beyond life.--MILTON.
Thus the Puritan was 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. But when he took his seat in the council, or girt on his
sword for war, these tempestuous workings of the soul had left
no perceptible trace behind them. People who saw nothing of
the godly but their uncouth visages, and who 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.--MACAULAY.
More manifest still are the physiological benefits of
emotional pleasures. Every power, bodily and mental, is
increased by "good spirits," which is our name for a general
emotional satisfaction. The truth that the fundamental vital
actions--those of nutrition--are furthered by laughter-moving
conversation, or rather by the pleasurable feeling causing
laughter, is one of old standing; and every dyspeptic knows
that in exhilarating company, a large and varied dinner,
including not very digestible things, may be eaten with
impunity, and, indeed, with benefit, while a small, carefully
chosen dinner of simple things, eaten in solitude, will be
followed by indigestion.--HERBERT SPENCER.
NOTE
In addition to the foregoing extracts, some of those previously given,
in poetry as well as prose, may be studied in the same way. Furthermore,
the student may be required to examine more at length a few authors
designated by the teacher, in order to determine (1) the proportion of
simple, complex, and compound sentences; (2) the proportion of loose,
periodic, and balanced sentences; (3) the percentage of Anglo-Saxon or
Latin words; and (4) the average number of words in a sentence. The
results will give occasion for interesting and instructive comparisons.