26. Writing in which the Ideas are already at Hand.—Young people have an abundance of things to write about. Their lives are usually full of interesting incidents, and their minds are fresh and eager. Before passing on, however, to the principal part of composition, that in which the writer expresses his own ideas, let us undertake a little practice in a form of composition in which the ideas are furnished us. We shall thus not have to devote so much effort to thinking what we are going to write, and can devote all the more attention to the pleasing form of what we write. 27. Condensation.—Here are two well-written and clear paragraphs on an interesting topic, and beneath each are two or three pleasing sentences which give the same idea in a shorter or condensed form. 1. Centuries ago, in a remote village among some wild hills in France, there lived a country maiden, Joan of Arc, who was at this time in her twentieth year. She had been a solitary girl from her childhood; she had often tended sheep and cattle for whole days where no human figure was seen or human voice was heard; and she had often knelt, for hours together, in the gloomy empty little village chapel, looking up at the altar and at the dim lamp burning before it, until
2. I think it was Hans, our Eskimo hunter, who thought he saw a broad sledge track. The drift had nearly effaced it, and we were some of us doubtful at first whether it was not one of those accidental rifts which the gales make in the surface snow. But, as we traced it on to the deep snow among the hummocks, we were led to footsteps; and, following these with religious care, we at last came in sight of a small American flag fluttering from a hummock, and lower down a little banner hanging from a tent pole hardly above the drift. It was the camp of our disabled comrades; we reached it after an unbroken march of twenty-one hours.—E. E. Kane: Arctic Explorations.
1. In order to begin at the beginning of the story, let us suppose that we go into a country garden one fine morning in May, when the sun is shining brightly overhead, and that we see hanging from the bough of an old apple tree a black object which looks very much like a large plum pudding. On approaching it, however, we see that it is a large cluster or swarm of bees clinging to each other by their legs; each 2. This warning stopped all speech, and the hardy mariners, knowing that they had already done all in the power of man to insure their safety, stood in breathless anxiety, awaiting the result. At a short distance ahead of them the whole ocean was white with foam, and the waves, instead of rolling on in regular succession, appeared to be tossing madly about. A single streak of dark billows, not half a cable's length in width, could be discerned running into this chaos of water; but it was soon lost to the eye amid the confusion. Along this narrow path the vessel moved more heavily than before, being brought so near the wind as to keep her sails touching. The pilot silently proceeded to the wheel, and with his own hands undertook the steering of the ship. No noise proceeded from the frigate to interrupt the horrid tumult of the ocean; and she entered the channel among the breakers in dead silence.—James Fenimore Cooper: The Pilot. 28. Method in Condensation.—The length of any piece of writing depends upon the purpose for which it is intended. For instance, the answer to the question, "Who was Abraham Lincoln?" might, according to the circumstances, be given in a paragraph, in a page, or in a chapter; or it might be expanded into a work of many volumes. If you were required, in preparation for a written lesson in history or geography, to read several The following suggestions will help you in condensing:— 1. Read the whole passage through carefully. 2. Pick out the things so important that they must be retained. As a rule, the more important the point, the greater the space the author allots to it. Drop the minor points. 3. Arrange the facts you decide to retain in order of importance, and in condensing the passage give most space to the most important points. Read, for example, the following narrative, and notice the condensation printed below it:— In the reign of the great caliph, there lived in the city of Bagdad a celebrated barber, of the name of Ali. He was famous for a steady hand, and could shave a head, or trim your beard or whiskers, with his eyes blindfolded. There was not a man of fashion at Bagdad who did not employ him; and such a run of business had he that at length he became very proud and insolent. Firewood was always scarce and dear at Bagdad; and it happened one day that a poor woodcutter, ignorant of the character of Ali, stopped at his shop, to sell him a load of wood, which he had just brought from a distance on his donkey. Ali immediately offered him a certain sum "for all the wood that was upon the donkey." The woodcutter agreed, unloaded his beast, and asked for the money. "You have not given me all the wood yet," said the barber. "I must have your wooden pack saddle into the bargain: that was our agreement." "What!" said the other, in great amazement; "who ever heard of such a bargain? It is impossible." But after many words the overbearing barber seized the pack saddle, wood, and all, and sent away the poor peasant in great distress. The woodcutter then ran to the judge and stated his griefs; the judge was one of the barber's customers, and refused to hear the case. Then he went to a higher judge; he also patronized Ali, and made light of the complaint. The poor woodcutter was not disheartened, but forthwith got a scribe to write a petition to the caliph himself. The caliph's punctuality in reading petitions is well known, and it was not long before the woodcutter was called to his presence. When he had approached the caliph, he kneeled and kissed the ground; and then, folding his arms before him, his hands covered with the sleeves of his cloak, and his feet close together, he awaited the decision of his case. "Friend," said the caliph, "the barber has words on his side: you have equity on yours. The law must be defined by words, and agreements must be made by words. The law must have its course, or it is nothing; and agreements must be kept, or there would be no good faith between man and man. Therefore the barber must keep all his wood, but"— Then calling the woodcutter close to him, the caliph whispered something in his ear, and sent him away quite satisfied. The woodcutter, having made obeisance, took his donkey by the halter, and returned home. A few days later he applied to the barber, as if nothing had happened between them, requesting that he, and a companion of his from the country, might enjoy the dexterity of "Shave him!" exclaimed the barber, in a rage: "is it not enough that I should degrade myself by touching you, but you must insult me by asking me to shave your donkey? Away with you!" The woodcutter immediately went to the caliph and related his case. "Bring Ali and his razors to me this instant," exclaimed the caliph to one of his officers; and in the course of ten minutes the barber stood before him. "Why do you refuse to shave this man's companion?" said the caliph to the barber: "was not that your agreement?" Ali, kissing the ground, answered, "It is true, O caliph, that such was our agreement; but who ever made a companion of a donkey before?" "True enough," said the caliph; "but who ever thought of insisting upon a pack saddle's being included in a load of wood? No, no, it is the woodcutter's turn now. Shave this donkey instantly!" So the barber was compelled to prepare a great quantity of soap, to lather the beast from head to foot, and to shave him in the presence of the caliph and of the whole court, whilst he was jeered and mocked by the bystanders. The poor woodcutter was then dismissed with a present of money; and all Bagdad resounded with the story, and praised the justice of the caliph.
In the middle of the month of October, in the year one thousand and sixty-six, the Normans and the English came front to front. All night the armies lay encamped before each other in a part of the country then called Senlac, now called Battle. With the first dawn of day they arose. There, in the faint light, were the English on a hill. A wood lay behind them, and in their midst was the royal banner, representing a fighting warrior, woven in gold thread, adorned with precious stones. Beneath the banner, as it rustled in the wind, stood King Harold on foot, with two of his remaining brothers by his side; around them, still and silent as the dead, clustered the whole English army—every soldier covered On an opposite hill, in three lines,—archers, foot soldiers, and horsemen,—was the Norman force. Of a sudden, a great battle cry, "God help us!" burst from the Norman lines. The English answered with their own battle cry, "God's Rood! Holy Rood!" The Normans then came sweeping down the hill to attack the English. There was one tall Norman knight who rode before the Norman army on a prancing horse, throwing up his heavy sword and catching it, and singing of the bravery of his countrymen. An English knight, who rode out from the English force to meet him, fell by this knight's hand. Another English knight rode out, and he also fell; but then a third rode out and killed the Norman. The English, keeping side by side in a great mass, cared no more for the showers of Norman arrows than if they had been showers of Norman rain. When the Norman horsemen rode against them, with their battle-axes they cut men and horses down. The Normans gave way. The English pressed forward. A cry went forth among the Norman troops that Duke William was killed. Duke William took off his helmet, in order that his face might be distinctly seen, and rode along the line before his men. This gave them courage. As they turned again to face the English, some of their Norman horse divided the pursuing body of the English from the rest, and thus all that foremost portion of the English army fell, fighting bravely. The main body still remaining firm, heedless of the Norman arrows, and with their battle-axes cutting down the crowds of horsemen when they rode up, like forests of young trees, Duke William pretended to retreat. The "Still," said Duke William, "there are thousands of the English firm as rocks around their king. Shoot upward, Norman archers, that your arrows may fall down upon their faces." The sun rose high, and sank, and the battle still raged. Through all the wild October day, the clash and din resounded in the air. In the red sunset, and in the white moonlight, heaps upon heaps of dead men lay strewn, a dreadful spectacle, all over the ground. King Harold, wounded with an arrow in the eye, was nearly blind. His brothers were already killed. Twenty Norman knights now dashed forward to seize the royal banner from the English knights and soldiers, still faithfully collected round their blinded king. The king received a mortal wound and dropped. The English broke and fled. The Normans rallied, and the day was lost. Oh, what a sight beneath the moon and stars when lights were shining in the tent of the victorious Duke William, which was pitched near the spot where Harold fell—and he and his knights were carousing within—and soldiers with torches, going slowly to and fro without, sought for the corpse of Harold among piles of dead—and Harold's banner, worked in golden thread and precious stones, lay low, all torn and soiled with blood—and the Duke's flag, with three Norman lions upon it, kept watch over the field.—Charles Dickens: A Child's History of England.
1. The passage quoted on pages 88-90. 2. The passage quoted on pages 144-148 (or 182-185). 3. A passage from your text-book in history or geography. 4. An account (of a fire, for instance), from a daily or weekly paper. 29. Expansion.—An exercise just the opposite of the preceding is also highly profitable to young writers. Here, for example, are two sentences that will suggest a good deal to you. You will see at once that it is easy to expand them into a larger piece of writing, and just below is an entire paragraph which is based on these sentences. 1. Lord Fairfax asked George Washington to survey his lands in Virginia. The boy was very glad to do so, for he loved a wild and adventurous life. 2. Lord Fairfax wished very much to have his lands in the valley of Virginia surveyed, and he asked young George Washington if he would undertake the work. The boy was very glad to do so. Nothing could have pleased him better than work of this sort. He loved the open air and horseback riding; he would delight to explore that grand and beautiful country where Indians and wild animals still roamed at will; and he at once began to make ready for his journey. Here is another example of the same process:— 1. The Mayflower sailed on the 16th of September. After a long and stormy voyage the Pilgrims sighted land. 2. On the 16th of September the sails were spread once more, and the Mayflower glided out upon the waters of the broad Atlantic. Fierce storms arose, and the vessel was tossed like an eggshell upon the waves. The main beam was wrenched from its place, and the ship was in danger of breaking in pieces. One passenger fell overboard and was
1. Rip Van Winkle was a great favorite among the good wives of the village. The children, too, loved him, and followed him about. 2. The Catskill Mountains lie to the west of the Hudson River. They are very beautiful. 3. The news of Lexington and Concord was sent to Philadelphia. Here the Continental Congress was assembled. The members agreed upon Washington as commander-in-chief of the Continental Army. 30. The Purpose of Expansion.—We sometimes expand passages in order to make them clearer by explanation or illustration. Examples. 1. In the Old World there are various grades of society, and it is almost impossible for a boy born in the lower to rise into the higher ranks. In this country this is not so; every man is as good as his neighbor. 2. In the aristocracies of the Old World, wealth and society are built up like the strata of rock which compose the crust of the earth. If a boy be born in the lowest stratum of life, it is almost impossible for him to rise through the hard crust
1. The early bird catches the worm. 2. If you would be well served, serve yourself. 3. For want of a nail, the shoe was lost; for want of a shoe, the horse was lost; for want of a horse, the rider was lost; for want of the rider, the army was lost. 4. Benedict Arnold's last request, it is said, was that he might die in his old American uniform; his last prayer, that God would forgive him for ever having put on any other. 5. After Washington's retreat from Long Island in September, 1776, he needed information as to the British fortifications. A young American officer, Nathan Hale, volunteered to get the information. While inside of the enemy's lines he was taken prisoner and hanged as a spy. With his latest breath he regretted that he had only one life to lose for his country. 31. Paraphrase.—There is just one further kind of writing, in which the ideas are given you, that will be profitable to you as practice. This is paraphrase. To paraphrase a piece of writing is to restate it in your own words and in a simpler form. You used one form of paraphrasing in the exercise on page 60, when you explained figurative expressions In a similar manner paraphrasing will aid you in understanding difficult passages, whether in verse or in prose, which you may come on in your reading. It is said of Lincoln that whenever he read anything that seemed to him very difficult, he would try to express it so simply that people who knew less than he could understand it. Perhaps this is one reason why Lincoln's speeches and writings are so beautifully clear. Examples. 1. The reports of the expedition demonstrated the practicability of establishing a line of communication across the continent, from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean.
2. Two leading objects of commercial gain have given birth to wide and daring enterprise in the early history of the Americas, the precious metals of the south and the rich peltries of the north. While the Spaniard, inflamed with the mania for gold, has extended his discoveries and conquests over those brilliant countries scorched by the ardent sun of the tropics, the Frenchman and Englishman have pursued the no less lucrative traffic in furs amid the hyperborean regions of the Canadas.—Washington Irving: Astoria.
—H. W. Longfellow: The Courtship of Miles Standish.
1. It was not until the year 1776 that the fur trade regained its old channels; but it was then pursued with much avidity and emulation by individual merchants, and soon transcended its former bounds.—Washington Irving: Astoria. 2. It is characteristic of such a people [the Aztecs] to find a puerile pleasure in a dazzling and ostentatious 3. The messenger found access to the benignant princess and delivered the epistle of the friar. Isabella had always been favorably disposed to the proposition of Columbus. She wrote in reply to Juan Perez, thanking him for his timely service, and requesting that he would repair immediately to the court, leaving Columbus in confident hope until he should hear further from her.—Washington Irving: Life of Columbus. 4. It cannot be disputed that the light toil requisite to cultivate a moderately sized garden imparts such zest to kitchen vegetables as is never found in those of the market gardener. Childless men, if they would know something of the bliss of paternity, should plant a seed with their own hands and nurse it from infancy to maturity altogether by their own care.—Nathaniel Hawthorne: Mosses from an Old Manse. 5. Dorcas nourished her apprehensions in silence till one afternoon when Reuben awoke from an unquiet sleep and seemed to recognize her more perfectly than at any previous time. She saw that his intellect had become composed, and she could no longer restrain her filial anxiety.—From the same.
1. Ah, no longer wizard Fancy Builds her castles in the air, Luring me by necromancy Up the never-ending stair. But instead she builds me bridges Over many a dark ravine, Cataracts dash and roar unseen. —H. W. Longfellow: The Bridge of Cloud. 2. For a cap and bells our lives we pay, Bubbles we buy with a whole soul's tasking; 'Tis heaven alone that is given away, 'Tis only God may be had for the asking; No price is set on the lavish summer; June may be had by the poorest comer. —J. R. Lowell: The Vision of Sir Launfal. 3. Oh, for festal dainties spread, Like my bowl of milk and bread; Pewter spoon and bowl of wood, On the door stone, gray and rude! O'er me, like a regal tent, Cloudy-ribbed, the sunset bent, Purple-curtained, fringed with gold, Looped in many a wind-swung fold; While for music came the play Of the pied frogs' orchestra; And, to light the noisy choir, Lit the fly his lamp of fire. I was monarch: pomp and joy Waited on the barefoot boy. —J. G. Whittier: The Barefoot Boy. 32. Paraphrase of Complete Compositions.—It is also sometimes a helpful exercise to paraphrase, not an extract, but a complete poem or short piece of prose, in order to make sure that you understand it thoroughly. This often requires a good deal of study, for details, which you had not at first noticed, but which are Read, for example, Longfellow's delightful poem, Walter Von der Vogelweid and then the paraphrase that follows. Vogelweid the Minnesinger, When he left this world of ours, Laid his body in the cloister, Under WÜrtzburg's minster towers. And he gave the monks his treasures, Gave them all with his behest: They should feed the birds at noontide Daily on his place of rest; Saying, "From these wandering minstrels I have learned the art of song; Let me now repay the lessons They have taught so well and long." Thus the bard of love departed; And, fulfilling his desire, On his tomb the birds were feasted By the children of the choir. Day by day, o'er tower and turret, In foul weather and in fair, Day by day, in vaster numbers, Flocked the poets of the air. On the tree, whose heavy branches Overshadowed all the place, On the pavement, on the tombstone, On the poet's sculptured face, On the crossbars of each window, On the lintel of each door, They renewed the War of Wartburg, Which the bard had fought before. There they sang their merry carols, Sang their lauds on every side; And the name their voices uttered Was the name of Vogelweid. Till at length the portly abbot Murmured, "Why this waste of food? Be it changed to loaves henceforward For our fasting brotherhood." Then in vain o'er tower and turret, From the walls and woodland nests, When the minster bells rang noontide, Gathered the unwelcome guests. Then in vain, with cries discordant, Clamorous round the Gothic spire, Screamed the feathered Minnesingers For the children of the choir. Time has long effaced the inscriptions On the cloister's funeral stones, And tradition only tells us Where repose the poet's bones. But around the vast cathedral, By sweet echoes multiplied, Still the birds repeat the legend, And the name of Vogelweid. Walter Von der Vogelweid was an old German Minnesinger, that is, a poet who sang of love, and his name means Every noon, as Walter had desired, the children of the choir fed the birds about his tomb. Day after day, in larger and larger numbers, these small wandering minstrels flocked to be fed, in fair or stormy weather. On the tree that overshadowed his grave, on the pavement, on the tombstone, even on the face of the marble statue of the poet, they would cluster, singing in rivalry as he had once sung in competition with other poets at the castle of Wartburg. And in their carols was always the name of Vogelweid. At last the abbot determined that this waste of food should not continue, but that loaves of bread should be bought instead for the fasting priests. After this the birds clamored in vain for the children who had fed them. Time has long since worn away the inscription on the tombstone of the cloister, and now there is nothing to tell us where the poet's bones rest; but around the cathedral the sweet voices of the birds still repeat the story and the name of Walter Von der Vogelweid.
Suggested poems:—1. Longfellow's The Legend of the Crossbill, or The Wreck of the Hesperus. 2. Tennyson's Lady Clare. 3. Browning's An Incident of the French Camp. 4. Scott's Lochinvar. 5. Campbell's Lord Ullin's Daughter. 6. Bayard Taylor's A Song of the Camp. 7. Whittier's Telling the Bees. 8. Kingsley's The Sands o' Dee. 9. Leigh Hunt's Abou Ben Adhem. 10. Lowell's The Courtin'. |