again into still less general, until it reaches the most particular state

ments:

II. Whether the East India Company's abuse of their trust be an abuse of

great atrocity.

A. Their conduct viewed in its political light.

1. As to abuse of external federal trust.

a. They have sold the native princes, states, and officials.

b. They have broken every treaty.

c. They have ruined all who confided in them.

2. As to abuse of internal administration.

a. They have been only a curse, not an advantage, to the

country.

b. Their rule has reacted to the hurt of society at home.
c. Their rule has been an abuse to tributary governments.

B. Their conduct viewed in its commercial light.

cantile dealing by which they have failed:

1. Buying cheap and selling dear.

2. Strictness in driving bargains.

3. Watchfulness over honesty of clerks.

4. Exactness in accounts.

5. Care in estimating and providing for profits.

6. Care in readiness to meet bills.

The tests of mer

Here all the subdivisions lead out toward individual applications or illustrations of the general assertion made at the beginning.

In a word, then, "a growing thought requires the inductive exposition, an applied thought the deductive."

The two orders may be combined in the same discourse; that is, while the main divisions proceed in one order, subdivisions may take the other; or the manner of procedure may be shifted in the various sections of the work, according to the writer's sense of what will be most effective.

III.

The Conclusion. The object of a formal conclusion at the end of a literary work is to gather together the various threads of argument, thought, or appeal, and so to apply them as to leave on

the reader's mind a unity of impression corresponding to the aim of the discourse. It is important that there be one comprehensive effect, one central truth, by which the work shall be remembered.

Relation of the Conclusion to the Body of Discourse. While the body of discourse has tended to diversity, following as it did the radiations of the thought into its various divisions and aspects, the conclusion, like the introduction, works to a unity; and thus, in a sense, the discourse ends where it began. But it does not end as it began. The introduction, as we have seen, called in the thought from its surroundings and concentrated it on the theme; the conclusion now gathers up the theme anew from its various components, and concentrates it on an application, or dynamic point, corresponding to the spirit and design of the whole work.

Form and Style of the Conclusion. As of other elements, we have also of the conclusion, to note different characters, according as the work is of the intellectual type, or of the impassioned.

1. In discourse of the intellectual type, the conclusion is generally a summary of preceding arguments and facts. This summary is made, where the individual arguments are important and distinct, by a recapitulation, sometimes in the same order in which they were given, sometimes in inverse order. In other cases the last argument or division may form the conclusion; but only when it gathers into itself the force and significance of all that has gone before. The ideal way, no doubt, is to construct the discourse in such climax or augmenting interest that its very momentum shall bear it onward to a natural, not labored or artificial, conclusion.

EXAMPLES. .— 1. An example of simple recapitulation by way of conclusion is found in Herbert Spencer's essay on “The Social Organism,” whose theme has already been given, page 254.

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Such, then, is a general outline of the evidence which justifies, in detail, the comparison of societies to living organisms. That they gradually increase in mass; that they become little by little more complex; that at the same

time their parts grow more mutually dependent; and that they continue to live and grow as wholes, while successive generations of their units appear and disappear; are broad peculiarities which bodies politic display in common with all living bodies; and in which they and living bodies differ from everything else. And on carrying out the comparison in detail, we find that these major analogies involve many minor analogies, far closer than might have been expected. To these we would gladly have added others. We had hoped to say something respecting the different types of social organization, and something also on special metamorphoses; but we have reached our assigned limits."

2. Macaulay's essay on “ History,” whose plan is partly described on page 274 above, gathers up at the end the significance of the whole thought by describing the perfect historian. Five paragraphs are devoted to this description, the last of which is as follows:

"A historian, such as we have been attempting to describe, would indeed be an intellectual prodigy. In his mind, powers scarcely compatible with each other must be tempered into an exquisite harmony. We shall sooner see another Shakespeare or another Homer. The highest excellence to which any single faculty can be brought would be less surprising than such a happy and delicate combination of qualities. Yet the contemplation of imaginary models is not an unpleasant or useless employment of the mind. It cannot indeed produce perfection; but it produces improvement, and nourishes that generous and liberal fastidiousness which is not inconsistent with the strongest sensibility to merit, and which, while it exalts our conceptions of the art, does not render us unjust to the artist."

2. In the impassioned type, the conclusion gathers into itself more the spirit of the discourse, or its significance as related to life and conduct. In summarizing or recapitulating arguments it takes them up by their practical application, aiming to leave the impression of appeal. Or some new application, kept in view but not mentioned before, may hold up the thought in an unexpected light, and thus form the culmination of the discourse.

EXAMPLES. 1. A magnificent example of the impassioned conclusion, too well known to need quoting here, is the close of Webster's Reply to Hayne. 2. The following, which is the conclusion of Ruskin's lecture on Conventional Art, at once recapitulates the two main divisions and gives them an application in conduct: :

"Make, then, your choice, boldly and consciously, for one way or other it must be made. On the dark and dangerous side are set, the pride which delights in self-contemplation — the indolence which rests in unquestioned forms

creation

– the ignorance that despises what is fairest among God's creatures, and the dullness that denies what is marvellous in His working: there is a life of monotony for your own souls, and of misguiding for those of others. And, on the other side, is open to your choice the life of the crowned spirit, moving as a light in discovering always — illuminating always, gaining every hour in strength, yet bowed down every hour into deeper humility; sure of being right in its aim, sure of being irresistible in its progress; happy in what it has securely done happier in what, day by day, it may as securely hope; happiest at the close of life, when the right hand begins to forget its cunning, to remember, that there never was a touch of the chisel or the pencil it wielded, but has added to the knowledge, and quickened the happiness of mankind.”

As to its style, the conclusion has not the motive for plainness that we have noticed in the introduction. It takes influence from the character of the discourse preceding it; and thus, if there is emotion or depth of thought to warrant, it may fittingly adopt imagery, rhythm, somewhat longer and more rolling sentencestructure, in a word, an elevated style; being indeed a kind of extended cadence. If it is important that a sentence should not end with some insignificant element, it is much more important that the conclusion of the whole work should maintain its distinction to the last.

NOTE.—The elaborately suspended sentence quoted from Cardinal Newman on page 147 above, which forms the conclusion of his lecture on "Literature," illustrates the style that a conclusion may take when it gathers momentum from what has gone before. So does the conclusion just quoted from Ruskin. Even in the purely intellectual type, the style of the conclusion is not infrequently heightened to a considerable degree.

III. MEANS OF PRESERVING CONTINUITY.

Before closing our discussion of the plan of discourse, a few words need to be said about the means employed to foster unity and continuity of structure, and to make the progress of the thought clear from point to point.

Transitions. A transition, as the name indicates, is a passage over from one division of the thought to another. It is an intermediate statement, in which is found something retained from what

precedes, and something anticipatory of what follows. But further, it should be a distinct thought in itself, not a mere catchword; otherwise it does not truly make a bridge between thoughts. The graceful management of transitions is one of the most delicate and difficult of the writer's achievements.

There are many occasions for transition, great and small, in the course of a literary work. Concerning almost every new thought the skillful writer will consider whether it ought to have some preparation, some intermediate aspect supplied, in order to add itself naturally to what precedes. The greater transitions occur between the main divisions, and especially, between the three fundamental elements. To launch a course of thought successfully, after the introduction, so as not to leave the transition abrupt or arbitrary, is perhaps hardest of all.

EXAMPLES.

- An example of a transitional paragraph, from Macaulay, has already been given, on page 212.

In an essay on "Race and Language," by Edward A. Freeman, the leading thought is that "the new lines of scientific inquiry which have been opened in modern times [namely, regarding race and language] have had a distinct and deep effect upon the politics of the age." This is introduced by an incident "of a deputation of Hungarian students going to Constantinople to present a sword of honor to an Ottoman general," on the ground of ancient kindred between the Magyar and Ottoman races. The transition from this introduction to the development is thus made: —

"To allege the real or supposed primeval kindred between Magyars and Ottomans as a ground for political action, or at least for political sympathy, in the affairs of the present moment, is an extreme case-some may be inclined to call it a reductio ad absurdum· of a whole range of doctrines and sentiments which have in modern days gained a great power over men's minds."

By this intermediate consideration, uniting the concrete illustration with the general statement, the way is now open for the leading thought cited above.

Indications of Structure. It is not alone by numerals that the successive steps of a plan are indicated. These can at best mark merely the main divisions, and may very easily be made heavy and pedantic. But in well articulated discourse frequent and un