all four parts of the subject alike, giving to each 150 words? Or may he, by grouping together the lakes and rivers, reduce the number of parts to three, and give to each 200 words? Or may he introduce another variation, by giving 150 words to the mountains and 250 to the woods? Such questions can be answered only by the writer himself, and his answer will depend upon the range of his personal knowledge and the bent of his personal tastes. But, in any case, it is his duty to raise the questions and to answer them. And he should answer them arithmetically:

Given so many hundred words for a whole composition in four, six, eight, nine paragraphs, how many words shall I apportion to each separate paragraph, according to my estimate of its relative importance?

THE FIRST DRAUGHT.

123. Having prepared his working plan, the scholar is now to fill out his first draught. Here the following suggestions may be of service:

1. Use ruled paper, the lines pretty far apart. Also leave an ample margin, perhaps of two or two and a half inches. This will give space for corrections and insertions.

2. Before beginning a paragraph, read over the items which make up its substance. Having these fresh in mind, write out the paragraph rapidly. At least, do not linger over words and phrases, but be satisfied with putting your thoughts in tolerably coherent shape. Your present aim is to compose the paragraph as a whole, rather than to perfect each clause and sentence. It is a safe method to plan deliberately (§ 122); to write rapidly, with impetus (§ 123); to review with minute care (§ 124).

REVISION.

124. When the whole composition is rough-draughted, lay it aside for a day or two, if possible. An intermission,

if only of a single day, enables the writer to approach the task of revision in the proper mood. While writing is a creative act, implying energy, concentration, warmth, not to say enthusiasm, revision, on the contrary, is critical, and calls for coolness and circumspection. The writer is to revise his work in a judicial spirit, approving or rejecting his own words and phrases as impartially as if he were judging the work of another person.

In revising each paragraph, try to employ the Echo, § 8; Connectives, § 9; Repeated Structure, § 10; Topic-Sentence, §§ 11-13. Also try the Paragraph-Echo, § 17.

In revising sentences, scrutinize sharply every and and but, §§ 90, 91; careless writers use them twice as often as they should. Also scrutinize the Historical Present, § 97. Pay especial attention to Stability of Structure, § 93. Bear in mind that the striking places in the sentence are the beginning and the end, especially the end. Hence the exhortation:

End with words that deserve distinction.*

In general, guard against redundancy. If the working plan has been carefully prepared, according to § 122, there ought not to be any marked redundancy of matter. But redundancy of expression is a common vice. Old or young, experienced or inexperienced, we are all given to using too many words. Hence the constant duty of learning to condense. But, since condensation cannot be taught by rule, each clause and sentence must be reduced in its own way.

The following device, if employed with caution, may be helpful. In rough-draughting (§ 123), use more words. than you are entitled to; e. g., if the number of words allowed for the whole composition is 600, use 800, or perhaps even 900. But use them, of course, with the conscious effort to avoid redundancy, i. e., try to say with

* Wendell, English Composition, p. 103.

them as much as possible. Then, in revising, you will know that there are 200 words, or 300, which must be eliminated. This will be a definite object.

In revising, scrutinize every adjective and adverb, to make sure that it truly adds something to the expression. Also weigh every two terms coupled by and, to see if one or the other may not be rejected. The word very is usually superfluous. Especially acquire the art of weeding out phrases and clauses (see § 94). E. g.:

As we look into Salem House we see the system of schooling which was in use during the days when Dickens was a boy. We see as we look in at the door the principal, holding a recitation, etc.

This can be condensed, and also improved in structure:

As we look [Looking] in at the door of Salem House, we see the system of schooling in use [vogue] when Dickens was a boy. We see the principal holding a recitation, etc.

His appearance had that wholesome plainness about it which at once dispelled suspicion.

This would be better as:

His appearance was of that wholesome plainness which at once dispelled [dispels] suspicion.

Refusing all money consideration, they [Portia and Nerissa] would only accept the rings.

Why consideration? And only should stand after accept. Certain it is that he [Ichabod] mounted his steed with an air of despondency and rode out through the gateway crestfallen and dejected.

This is great unkindness to Irving. The writer would have done better with a simpler expression:

Certain it is that he rode away crestfallen.

He was so worked up and excited that, etc.

A man of mean and low principles.

Her position was by no means of an enviable character.

As we were on our way here we saw a man who was drunk [a drunken man].

If you look from the tower you will see the whole city.

The reason why Socrates was condemned to death was because of his unpopularity.

INTRODUCTION AND CONCLUSION.

125. It is not easy to lay down precise rules for the employment of paragraphs of Introduction and Conclusion.

Are they always necessary? The ordinary text-book of rhetoric seems to teach that they are.

Thus:

Every theme, when complete, consists of three parts-the Introduction, the Discussion, and the Conclusion.*

Another term for the Discussion is the Body of the dis

course.

There are grave objections to the doctrine as thus put. The whole theory of Introduction and Conclusion, in fact, is applicable to the preparing of orations, public discourses, essays, books, and other matter for print, rather than to the writing of school and college compositions. (See §§ 20, 21, 206.)

In a paper of 600 or 800 or even of 1000 words there is little or no room for a formal beginning and ending. The scholar will do better to content himself with his working plan, first draught, and revision, securing thereby the advantages of simplicity and directness.

If the paper is to contain 1500 words or upward, especially if it is to treat of a subject at all complicated, involving something more than mere narration or description, the writer should consider whether he can make his treatment really more effective by means of an introduction and a conclusion. In other words, the writer should judge for himself, and not follow blindly a mere text-book rule.

In any case the Introduction should be nothing more than the Subject-formula (§ 121), cast into a brief paragraph of forty or fifty words. E. g., Irving introduces his description of Christmas in England thus:

* Williams, Composition and Rhetoric, p. 271; see also D. J. Hill, Elements of Rhetoric and Composition, p. 16. On the other hand, see the caustic remarks of Wendell, English Composition, p. 167, upon the impulse "to preface something in particular by at least a paragraph of nothing in particular, bearing to the real matter in hand a relation not more inherently intimate than that of the tuning of violins to a symphony."

In the preceding paper I have made some general observations on the Christmas festivities of England, and am tempted to illustrate them by some anecdotes of a Christmas passed in the country; in perusing which I would most courteously invite my reader to lay aside the austerity of wisdom, and to put on that genuine holiday spirit which is tolerant of folly and anxious only for amusement.-IRVING: The StageCoach.

The Conclusion should be a summing-up and application. Thus Irving ends his Christmas descriptions with two paragraphs. In the first he answers the supposed objection:

"To what purpose is all this; how is the world to be made wiser by this talk?"

with the assertion that his object is not to instruct, but to please. This goes back directly to the paragraph of introduction, quoted above. Then comes the final paragraph :

What, after all, is the mite of wisdom that I could throw into the mass of knowledge; or how am I sure that my sagest deductions may be safe guides for the opinions of others? But in writing to amuse, if I fail, the only evil is my own disappointment. If, however, I can, by any lucky chance, in these days of evil, rub out one wrinkle from the brow of care, or beguile the heavy heart of one moment of sorrow; if I can now and then penetrate through the gathering film of misanthropy, prompt a benevolent view of human nature, and make my reader more in good-humor with his fellow-beings and himself, surely, surely I shall not then have written entirely in vain.-IRVING: The Christmas Dinner.

From Irving, as a representative author not too far above the reach of the ordinary student, one lesson at least can be learned, namely, to make introductions and conclusions direct, specific, to the point. But, since the young writer is too apt to turn them into a mere exhibition of glittering generalities and commonplace, we are perfectly justified in saying to him: If you cannot make them as they should be, omit them altogether.

126. Link-Paragraph.—The nature of this is discussed and illustrated in § 18. In a short composition there is