INTRODUCTION THOSE of us who have experienced the perilous delights of learning to ride a bicycle will recall the suspense that attended the discovery of some obstacle or pitfall in the path. The whole roadway was before us where to choose; yet surely and swiftly we would bear down upon the very object that it was our whole purpose to shun. In ordering the pages that follow, I have often seemed to renew these experiences. It has been my purpose to set forth the rhetorical principles of narrative composition, not to prepare another manual on the novel and the short-story; that has already been done often and well. It has seemed, however, that there might be a place for examining the broader field that includes not only fiction but history, biography, and all forms of composition the purpose of which is to set in order the details of an occurrence. Yet the novel and the shortstory have constantly obtruded themselves. From its very character, its broader emotional appeal, fiction furnishes by far the most effective illustration of narrative principles. And I fear, therefore, lest these narrative types have too frequently been made unduly prominent. If this be the case, it is in spite of deliberate effort to avoid the danger, and not because the danger was unforeseen. The charge is often brought against college courses in composition that they are barren, - they do not inspire literary masterpieces. "Show us your novelists, your poets," exclaims the critic. Yet courses in mathematics, in physics, in the modern languages, are not decried, because in each graduating class we fail to find Euclids, Newtons, Goethes, and Molières. As a matter of fact, intelligent appreciation is a very important function of the so-called "advanced courses in composition." And the student of structure and style may indeed gain an appreciative insight into the work of the master, if he attempts to do in a small way what the master has done in a large way. We can always better judge any kind of work if we have tried our own hand at it, even though our efforts may not be crowned by the Academy. The course of study, then, that is outlined in the following pages may well be accompanied by exercises in composition: in setting, in characterization, in the ordering of plot-material. But extensive reading should attend the work of composition; it will serve as a basis for discussion, illustration, and imitation. Few courses offer better material for arousing interest in good literature than does a course in narrative composition. Every student is interested in story and in history, and open discussion of narrative principles, particularly of characterization, frequently results in intelligent enthusiasm for what is really excellent, and simultaneously develops a distaste for the superficial and "trashy" narratives that are all too common. It is needless, perhaps, to add that in this work the text-book must serve merely as a definite starting-point; the inspiration must come from the teacher. A course of parallel readings that has been tested by an experience of several years embraces one work of historical character, one biography, one novel, and thirty or forty short-stories. The following specific works have been found adapted to a course of this character: HISTORY: BIOGRAPHY: THE NOVEL: Creasy: Fifteen Decisive Battles of the Macaulay: chap. i of the History of Eng- Prescott: Conquest of Peru. Morley: English Men of Letters. Palmer: Life of Alice Freeman Palmer. Dickens: Hard Times; Barnaby Rudge. Hardy: Far from the Madding Crowd; Trollope: Barchester Towers. THE SHORT-STORY: Aldrich: Marjorie Daw. Allen: Flute and Violin. Anstey: The Black Poodle. La Grande Bretèche. Bunner: A Sisterly Scheme. Dickens: A Child's Dream of a Star. Freeman: A New England Nun. Garland: Up the Coolly. Hardy: The Withered Arm. The Three Strangers. The Melancholy Hussar of the Harte: The Outcasts of Poker Flat. Hawthorne: The Great Stone Face. Hewlett: Madonna of the Peach Tree. Irving: Rip Van Winkle. Kipling: The Man who would be King. THE SHORT-STORY: Kipling: Without Benefit of Clergy. Matthews: Vignettes of Manhattan (se lections). Maupassant: The Necklace. The Piece of String. The Man with the Blue Eyes. The Coward. Merimée: Mateo Falcone. Morrison: On the Stairs. The Omnibus. Poe: The Gold-Bug. The Fall of the House of Usher. The Cask of Amontillado. Smith: A Night Out. Boggs becomes Dramatic (“The Wood-Fire in No. 3"). Stevenson: The Merry Men. Markheim. Stockton: The Lady or the Tiger? Turgeneff: A Lear of the Steppes. The Bible: Ruth, Esther, and selections ad lib. Gesta Romanorum: selections. The Arabian Nights: selections. My obligations are many. One cannot discuss the principles herein considered and fail to recognize indebtedness to Professors Barrett Wendell and Bliss Perry of Harvard, Professor Charles S. Baldwin of Columbia, and many others. I have endeavored, in the text, to give credit for such indebtedness, and in the footnotes I have specified the various publishers who have courteously allowed the use of copyrighted matter. I take this opportunity also of expressing to my |