supposedly mechanical procedure they regard as of little benefit to one who is ambitious to write spontaneously and fluently. But their position, it scarcely need be said, is quite unfounded. It rests on the false belief that good writers and great writers do not make plans. Schopenhauer has spoken in his characteristic manner about this false notion and the ineffectiveness that results from it:

Few write in the way in which an architect builds; who, before he sets to work, sketches out his plan, and thinks it over down to its smallest details. Nay, most people write only as though they were playing dominoes; and as in this game the pieces are arranged half by design, half by chance, so it is with the sequence and connection of their sentences. They only just have an idea of what the general shape of their work will be, and of the aim they set before themselves. Many are ignorant even of this, and write as the coral insects build; period joins to period, and Lord knows what the author means.'

But the few who write well, the few whose work has the distinction of artistic merit, do give much attention to the making of plans. Probably not all of them regard the outlining of their work as of so much importance as Racine did in constructing his plays, yet they know that a large part of any piece of writing is finished when they have worked out the plan in detail. It is true, of course, that some authors do not always make a written plan; but they hold a plan definitely in mind, a thing which the young writer is usually unable to do. It must be said, too, that the writers who have found it possible to "write the plan out in the mind " have ordinarily learned to do so by making written plans earlier in their lives. Through practice they have developed the power to see so easily and so

1 Schopenhauer, On Style. Translated by T. Bailey Saunders. Published in The Art of Literature. George Allen and Company, Limited.

2 Racine préparait soigneusement celui de ses pièces, acte par acte, d'abord, puis scène par scène, et, quand il avait terminé ce travail, il disait: "Ma tragédie est finie, je n'ai plus que les vers à écrire !"

clearly that they simply do not put themselves to the trouble of writing the plan out on paper. Of course, in the informal personal essay, such as Dr. Crothers and Miss Repplier delight us with, there is little need of a plan, because there is no desire to give close logical organization to the completed essay. It is purely a literary ramble, meant to justify itself not by the end reached, the destination arrived at, but by the pleasant views along the way. In other kinds of writing, however, — in the instrumental expository essay, in argumentation, in the story, the biography, and the drama, the need of a careful plan confronts every writer; but especially the one who is inexperienced.

A. THE NEED OF A PLAN

The need of a plan is twofold. In the first place, the writer should have a guide and a fixed record of his purpose, just as workers in other arts have, and for the same reason. The painter draws a sketch in pencil before he makes his picture, the sculptor makes his model on paper or in clay before he begins to work on the marble, and the architect makes drawings of every detail of his building and perhaps, in addition, a reduced model of the whole, before the first step is taken in its erection.

Image the whole, then execute the parts

Fancy the fabric

Quite, ere you build, ere steel strike

Fire from quartz,

Ere mortar dab brick ! 1

Likewise the writer should have "that architectural conception of work, which foresees the end in the beginning and never loses sight of it, and in every part is conscious of all the rest till the last sentence does but, with undiminished vigor, unfold and justify the first."2 Secondly, the writer has special need of a plan because of one peculiarity of his work. Unlike the product of the architect, the sculptor, or the painter, a com2 Pater, Style.

1 Browning, A Grammarian's Funeral.

pleted piece of writing cannot be seen in its entirety at one view or in a series of independent views. It is progressive and cumulative, and if the writer hopes to make it easy for his readers to keep every important part in mind till they reach the end, he himself must first have perfect knowledge of the way.

B. THE MAKING OF THE PLAN

1. The running outline. It is useless to make over-nice classifications of plans, and it is folly to say that any one kind must always be used. A plan, it should be remembered, is only a means to an end. Whenever, therefore, a student turns his attention to studying the refinements of a score of differently labeled plans, he is quite likely to be turning his mind from the real business in hand to a mere incidental. The extent to which we may profitably carry out the details of a plan depends upon our grasp of the material to be treated, the kind of material, and our habits of mind. If we hold the subject-matter firmly, and can see it in all the relations of its parts with ease, a mere running outline may be sufficient. To return to our example, the material on the benefits to be derived from a college education might stand thus:

WHAT A COLLEGE EDUCATION SHOULD DO FOR A STUDENT

1. Enforce habits of study.

2. Cultivate concentration.

3. Create a fund of knowledge.

4. Develop a sound body.

5. Create respect for economy.

6. Acquaint one with religious and ethical thought.

7. Teach one the duties of citizenship.

8. Develop the power and the willingness to serve others.

9. Teach one how to know men and women.

10. Create a feeling of responsibility.

II. Enable one to form lasting friendships.

2. The expository plan. The running outline, however, shows only selection and sequence. If we desire to gain some

view of the proportion of the parts and of all their direct and indirect relations, we should employ the expository plan. Through a simple system of numerals this kind of plan gives a logical view of everything to be included in the completed composition. Let it be observed, however, that it does not indicate paragraphs; it merely provides a test by means of complete analysis. Our material, then, might stand in this form:

WHAT A COLLEGE EDUCATION SHOULD DO FOR A STUDENT

I. A college education should develop intellectual power.

A. By enforcing habits of study.

B. By cultivating the ability to concentrate the mind.
C. By creating a fund of working knowledge.

II. A college education should establish character.
A. By developing a sound body.

B. By creating a respect for economy.

1. In the use of time.

2. In the use of energy.

3. In the use of money.

C. By acquainting one with religious and ethical thought.

D. By teaching one the duties of citizenship.

E. By developing the power and the willingness to serve others.

III. A college education should increase one's social influence.

A. By aiding one in learning how to know men and women.
B. By creating a feeling of responsibility.

1. To oneself.

2. To one's associates.

C. By enabling one to form lasting friendships.

3. The summary plan. We may choose to go a step further and submit the organization of our material to a test by summary. That is, we may bring the material for each paragraph into the form of a sentence. This summary plan tests the unity of the paragraph and the coherence of the whole composition. It is especially valuable, because it not only enables the writer to see the order and proportion of his proposed piece of work, but indicates the ease or difficulty with which he can make transitions from paragraph to paragraph. The four or five

summary headings printed below will serve to show the character of this kind of plan.

WHAT A COLLEGE EDUCATION SHOULD DO FOR A STUDENT

I. Inasmuch as every conception of education implies mental grasp of some kind, the first purpose of a college education should be to develop intellectual power.

II. The beginning of this power lies in the enforced systematic study that a college education requires.

III. It is further increased through the resultant ability to concentrate the mind.

IV. Again, it is increased through the enlarged fund of working knowledge with which organized study provides the mind.

V. Etc., etc.

C. THE PLAN AS A TEST

Not only does the plan help us to see our way more clearly; it enables us to make a preliminary test of everything that goes into our writing, and thereby saves us the necessity of undue revision. In the first place, the plan offers a test of the completeness with which we have covered our ground. In the essay, the argument, the description, or the story, we cannot be certain that there are no gaps, no unbridged chasms, no insecure ground, until after we have displayed our material on paper in some way. The plan is the simplest means of making this display. Moreover, it tests the relevancy of subject-matter. We have seen in an earlier part of this chapter how our mental experience is interwoven and interrelated until it is difficult to separate any part of it from the rest. Now when we bring some of this experience together for treatment in a piece of writing, we are always in danger of drawing with it some matter which is only indirectly related to our chief idea, or not related at all. The opportunity which a plan affords for seeing a wide field in small compass makes it comparatively easy to throw out this irrelevant matter. Again, we can test the consistency of material and of organization. If we do not make a plan we may not discover any conflict of ideas, any violations of coördina