CHAPTER IX.

NARRATION.

62. Narration and Description. It is not always easy to distinguish narration from description, for one kind of discourse passes into the other by insensible gradations, and the two kinds are frequently mingled in one composition. But if we select a piece of writing that is undeniably description and another that is undeniably narration, and set them side by side, the essential points of difference will easily be seen. Making a comparison of this kind, putting, for example, the extract from Stevenson's Master of Ballantrae, on p. 269, by the side of the description of a "sugar-bush," on page 226, we can detect in the narrative an element which is obviously lacking in the description. In the description of the sugar-bush the author seems to be painting a picture for us. It is as if we stood before a canvas and watched the lines taking form upon it under the painter's hand. In the narrative we are made aware of something more than a pictured scene. The characters in the narrative are not merely pictured: they live and move; they talk and fight. More than this, the various particular things that they do form a well-defined series, which, taken as a whole, we may call a single action. We see this action begin; we see it increase in interest; we watch it run its course and

come to a conclusion.

It is this life and movement, ex

hibiting itself in a series of closely connected incidents, which is the distinctive feature of all narration.

(a) Turn back to Captain King's account of the battle of Gettysburg (page 235). Mark all the passages which seem to you

to be purely narrative.

(b) Are the following selections narratives or descriptions? How much action is there in each of them?

1. Soon he heard a sound as of a multitudinous scraping and panting, above which tinkled a bell. A cloud of dust rose from the road, showing, as it parted, the yellow fleeces and black legs and muzzles of a flock of Southdown sheep. He stood aside motionless upon the turf, to let them pass without hindrance; but one of the timid creatures, nevertheless, took fright at him, and darted down the slope, followed by an unreasoning crowd of imitators. It did not need a low faint cry from the shepherd, who loomed far behind above the cloud of white dust, himself spectral-looking in his long, greyish-white smock-frock, to send the sheep-dog sweeping over the turf, with his fringes floating in the wind, and his tongue hanging from his formidable jaws, while he uttered short angry barks of reproof, and drove the truants into the path again. But again and again and yet again some indiscretion on the part of the timid little black-faces demanded the energies of their lively and fussy guardian, who darted from one end of the flock to the other with joyous rapidity, hustling this sheep, grumbling at that, barking here, remonstrating there, and driving the bewildered creatures hither and thither with a zeal that was occasionally in excess, and drew forth a brief monosyllable from his master, which caused the dog to fly back and walk sedately behind him with an instant obedience as delightful