and alert minds, we shall be almost overburdened with material for talking and writing, so that any deficiency in the means of expression will be quickly brought home. We have five senses which are extraordinarily keen to record impressions upon our minds. Of these, sight is probably the busiest and therefore the most fruitful. But education and life itself should be constantly cultivating a close acquaintance with the workings of all our senses. To be able to tell in words accurately how a thing smells or tastes, to express vividly what our sense of touch experiences when we handle different kinds of wood or cloth, to point out the differences between the robin's call and the thrush's song, all of these are important for us as well as for those to whom we speak or write. Moreover, our reading and our general knowledge of the things about us endlessly call upon our powers of expression. To write down our belief as to the value of a certain study, to sum up, mentally or in writing, what we have learned from a certain book, to voice our convictions about the rules of football, to express our satisfaction or dissatisfaction with the progress of certain public affairs, is in each case to combine our reading with our knowledge and to produce composition of one kind or another. Active, well-ordered thought, keen, observant senses, and a memory that keeps the useful and drops the useless, are the first requirements for good composition; for it is these faculties which provide the material worth expressing. There was once a boy whose sister had been an invalid for the sixteen years of her life. She was confined to her bed in a dingy, miserable room in a crowded city. She had never seen a tree, never heard a bird sing, never understood about the city whose noises she heard around her. The brother tried so earnestly to speak and write about all of these and many other things that he was soon able to tell her vividly about them, and as a result she saw the trees, she heard the birds, she understood the traffic, and the plan, and the life of the city. He had learned to speak and write so well that he was able to let her into what, so far as she had been concerned, were the secrets of the world, though she could not leave her room, and could see only roofs and fire escapes from its single window. Perhaps he was not more observant than other boys. He simply took the trouble to express the various things he saw and heard during his day's adventures. He knew no more about trees than you and I know, but he heeded his senses. He saw a tree, he heard its leaves flutter in the wind, he touched its bark perhaps, he even smelled its delightful freshness, and he wrote down all his impressions. So we must cultivate the habit of fixing in our minds and of putting down on paper the experiences we daily meet with and usually think so trivial. Walking to school this very morning we may have seen a peculiar looking house, or heard a fire alarm and the rush of engines, or witnessed a flock of birds making much ado in an old tree, or had an interesting conversation with a companion. We may not have thought about these very much at the time. But a moment's consideration will show that if we have observed, or thought, or remembered, the next step, composition, is waiting for us. SUBJECT AND TITLE Choosing a Subject. We can never be at a loss, therefore, for something to write or talk about, for we see that the life of each of us is full to overflowing with interesting thoughts and experiences, if we will but make the most of them. Sharp eye and active mind discover the material for composition pressing in upon us everywhere. But it is just the fact that life is so big, so incessant, so complicated in its relations of incident to incident that makes it well to pause for a few paragraphs before the explanation of how to shape our material begins. For we must first consider how to choose it, or better, to use a figure of speech, how to cut out our subject from the life of which it makes a part. Limiting the Subject. If on our way to school this morning we saw some carpenters working at a building, we might choose to write about Work. This would then be called the subject of our composition. But on consideration we would, of course, decide that this is far too general a subject, that "Work" covers a field much greater than our knowledge or experience that it demands a book rather than a theme; and that in fact we have in mind one particular kind of work, namely, Carpentering. If our subject is still too broad; if we (as is more than likely) watched one particular man or group of men; or again, if only one operation attracted us instead of the whole business of carpentering, then we shall be far better able to do justice to our actual experience and therefore our knowledge, if we select one of the following for our composition: Driving a Nail. Planing a Board. Carrying a Girder. Hewing a Log. 66 Here in each instance the former subject has been limited in such a way as to give us something very definite to develop. Had we undertaken to write on Work," or even on "Carpentering," we should have been bewildered by the very breadth of our subject. There are too many different kinds of work, too many different operations in carpentering. Always, then, before talking or writing about any of our vivid experiences, let us consider them well, dividing and sub dividing, narrowing and limiting them, until we have some definite phase or part which we can handle expertly in a given time. Three things must be considered in choosing our subject: the time at our disposal for writing or speaking; the purpose of the composition; and, most of all, our knowledge of the subject. We must not be too ambitious at the outset. We must make it a rule to hold ourselves rigidly to the narrowed subject, and cover every possible detail of that subject. As our knowledge and our power of expression increase, we may take subjects that are broader and that demand a greater scope. Generic and Specific Subjects. A subject such as "Work," suggested above, is a general or generic subject. Its subdivision, "Carpentering," is particular or special or specific. "Driving a Nail" is still more specific. In the same way, Building is generic; house, specific; Animal is generic; horse, specific; cottage, still more specific. still more specific. still more specific. "Treasure rose, Island," still more specific. "Prince," still more specific. Thus by seeking the specific, we are able to limit our subjects until they cover just those certain details which we are able to discuss, which we wish to discuss, and which we have time and space to discuss. It may be that ahead of me on my way to school this morning I saw a building. Approaching it, I saw it was a house; and coming still nearer, I discovered it to be a particular type of house known as a cottage. Surely it will be vastly more interesting to my classmates to hear me talk about a cottage than about a mere house or building. And surely I shall have much more interest in dealing with this one small type and specializing upon it than in writing about buildings in general, which as subject would permit me to do little more than classify and define. 66 The Title. - It is the title that shows the limits within which we intend to confine ourselves. Suppose instead of taking "Cottage" for our subject, we name our composition, give it a label which will even more closely limit us, and at the same time define in a general way our purpose in the composition we are going to write about it. Suppose we say "The Modest Home," or "The Lovers' Nest," or 'The Haunt of Happiness." Instead of "Prince, Our Pet Horse," let us say, "A Perfect Gentleman"; instead of "Baseball," "The American Frenzy," etc. Now we have given our subject a name which makes it not only more interesting, but explains to some degree just what our object is going to be in our work. We are now going in some small way to make an individual of "Prince." He is a perfect gentleman; he is considerate of us; likes us to be about him; never switches his tail in our faces; sticks his nose readily through the halter; always turns to the right voluntarily when we meet a team in the road. So also the cottage has ceased to be a mere cottage, like a hundred others we have seen. It has now become the rose-covered paradise of a pair of lovers, or the abode of aged but happy parents whose boys are doing well in the city; and so on. We have taken from our subject the commonplace, we have tinged it with imagination, and, most important of all, we have still further specialized or limited it. In short, we have given it a title, and have certainly made it still more attractive to every one interested in the writing and hearing of the composition which it introduces. Summary. This chapter on the nature of composition may be summed up in this fashion: Composition is putting together and expressing one's thoughts, experiences, or knowl |