think. Hence those works which deal mainly with action, with what has happened to man, either in the world of reality or in the world of imagination, have most chance of arousing and holding our attention. In fact, no work wherein action plays but a very small part can have much chance of being permanently interesting. 74. Kinds of narration. The forms which nar- ration may assume are numerous. tative of the type are history, biography, and the novel. History and biography deal with real events and real characters, and aim to present a truthful account of them. The novel, on the other hand, deals for the most part with imaginary events, and is not bound to any strict observance of literal truth. In their essential characteristics, however, all three forms are alike. The method of handling events depends in a very slight degree, if at all, upon whether those events are real or imaginary. A novel, for instance, may take the form of a biography and be indistinguishable from it except on the score of conformity to fact. History and biography can be differentiated from fiction only by their aim or purpose. Their purpose being, in the main, to convey information, they must give an exact account of what has happened, and can adapt facts only in so far as such adaptation is consistent with a truthful presentation of the events recorded. In fiction there is no such limitation. Here the writer's facts are, or may be, purely imaginary, and can be adapted at will, provided they are kept in harmony with each other. The novelist appeals not so much to the understanding as to the imagination and the emotions. His aim is to please, and he is bound only by the laws of consistency and of beauty, the observance of which is for him a necessity if he would please. In short, while the historian and the biographer are bound to the observance of specific truth, the writer of fiction is bound to the observance of general truth only. In all cases, however, events as events that is, whether real or imaginary are treated in the same way. 75. Elements of narration. An analysis of any good piece of narrative composition will reveal the fact that it is made up of three well-defined elements, namely, plot, characterization, and what may be called setting. These elements are not always present in the same ratio, but each must be present in some degree before we can have what may properly be termed narration. 76. Plot. In narration proper, as we have seen, the aim of the writer is to recount a series of events in such a way as to center the interest in the whole rather than in the events themselves taken separately. This is done by giving to the narrative what is called a plot or complication of the events. The events or incidents which form the possible material for a narrative are linked together by means of a twofold relation, by a time relation, and by a causal relation. If the writer concerns himself merely with the time relation of the events he uses, we have the crudest kind of narration, or chronicling. If, however, he brings out the causal as well as the time relation of these events, we have narration proper, or narration with plot. Plot may therefore be defined as the causal connection given to a series of events in virtue of which that series becomes a definite whole having a distinct beginning and a distinct ending. The term "plot" is here used in the widest possible sense. In a narrower sense, the term is often used as meaning a complication or entanglement of the events in a fictitious narrative the solution for which we expect to find at or near the end of the narrative. Hence plot has sometimes even been defined as a combination of the events of a story intended to excite interest and create curiosity as to the outcome. definition, however, tends to place the emphasis on the wrong thing. A good plot may excite the reader's interest to such an extent that he will be curious as to the outcome, and a bad or indifferent plot may fail to do this; but much will depend upon the reader. Interest in the plot is a question of degree, not of kind. This Plot of the simplest kind may be illustrated by the following short tale from Andersen's Fairy Tales: THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL It was terribly cold; it snowed and was already almost dark, and evening came on, the last evening of the year. In the cold and gloom a poor little girl, bareheaded and barefoot, was walking through the streets. When she left her own house she certainly had slippers on; but of what use were they? They were big slippers, and her mother had used them till then, so big were they. The little maid 'ost them as she slipped across the road, where two carriages were rattling by terribly fast. One slipper was not to be found again, and a boy had seized the other, and run away with it. He thought he could use it very well as a cradle, some day when he had children of his own. So now the little girl went with her little naked feet, which were quite red and blue with the cold. In an old apron she carried a number of matches, and a bundle of them in her hand. No one had bought of her all day, and no one had given her a farthing. Shivering with cold and hunger, she crept along, a picture of misery, poor little girl! The snowflakes covered her long fair hair, which fell in pretty curls over her neck; but she did not think of that now. In all the windows lights were shining, and there was a glorious smell of roast goose, for it was New Year's Eve. Yes, she thought of that! In a corner formed by two houses, one of which projected beyond the other, she sat down cowering. She had drawn up her little feet, but she was still colder, and she did not dare to go home, for she had sold no matches, and did not bring a farthing of money. From her father she would certainly receive a beating, and besides it was cold at home, for they had nothing over them but a roof through which the wind whistled, though the largest rents had been stopped with straw and rags. Her little hands were almost benumbed with the cold! Ah! a match might do her good, if she could only draw one from the bundle, and rub it against the wall, and warm her hands at it. She drew one out. R-r-atch! how it sputtered and burned! It was a warm, bright flame, like a little candle, when she held her hands over it; it was a wonderful little light! It really seemed to the little girl as if she sat before a great polished stove, with bright brass feet and a brass cover. How the fire burned! how comfortable it was! But the little flame went out, and the stove vanished, and she had only the remains of the burned match in her hand. A second was rubbed against the wall. It burned up, and when the light fell upon the wall it became transparent, like a thin veil, and she could see through it into the room. On the table a snow-white cloth was spread; upon it stood a shining dinner service; the roast goose smoked gloriously, stuffed with apples and dried plums. And what was still more splendid to behold, the goose hopped down from the dish, and waddled along the floor, with a knife and fork in its breast, to the little girl. Then the match went out, and only the thick, damp, cold wall was before her. She lighted another match. Then she was sitting under a beautiful Christmas tree; it was greater and more ornamental than the one she had seen through the glass door at the rich merchant's. Thousands of candles burned upon the green branches, and colored pictures like those in the print shops looked down upon them. The little girl stretched forth her hand toward them; then the match went out. The Christmas lights mounted higher. he saw them now as stars in the sky: one of them fell down, forming a long line of fire. "Now some one is dying," thought the little girl, for her old grandmother, the only person who had loved her, and who was now dead, had told her when a star fell down a soul mounted up to God. She rubbed another match against the wall; it became bright again, and in the brightness the old grandmother stood clear and shining, mild and lovely. "Grandmother!" cried the child, "oh! take me with you! I know you will go when the match is burned out. You will vanish like the warm fire, the warm food, and the great glorious Christmas tree!" And she hastily rubbed the whole bundle of matches, for she wished to hold her grandmother fast. And the matches burned with such a glow that it became brighter than in the |