II

Write a theme of about four hundred words to describe Guido Reni's Aurora pictured on the preceding page. Work from an outline, and aim to secure unity of

thought and expression.

SUGGESTIONS

1. What is the central idea conveyed by the picture, and what is the general impression you receive from it? What are the details?

2. What is the point of view of the artist?

3. What is the central figure? Why?

4. What relation do the minor figures bear to the central one? 5. Does the glimpse of the landscape seen at the right of the picture mar the unity? Why, or why not?

III

Write a theme on one of the following subjects, working from an outline, and following the directions for securing unity:

1. The Legend of William Tell.

2. The Story of Chatterton's Life.

3. Some subject assigned by the teacher.

156. Coherence in the theme. Coherence in the theme demands that the material be logically and naturally arranged that the sequence of ideas be perfectly clear. In a perfectly coherent theme the relation of the topics is so unmistakably obvious that even the careless reader cannot fail to get the writer's meaning.

157. Hindrances to coherence. Lack of coherence in the theme most often arises from one of two causes: (1) Lack of definiteness in the logical arrangement; or (2) Lack of connecting words and paragraphs to show the order and the relation of the parts.

158. Means of securing coherence in the theme. There are two important means of securing coherence in the theme.

1. Seek definitely a natural and logical order of development. The order of development, of course, varies with the subject, the method of treatment, and the individuality of the writer. The student is the creator of his own work, and should therefore be the chooser of his own order. Any one of the following three arrangements may often be used.

(1) The order may be chronological, as in a narration. In writing the life of Washington Irving, for instance, the order would be: (1) Boyhood, (2) Early education, (3) Manhood, (4) Later life, etc.

(2) In description, the order may be: (a) from central figure to details, or vice versa; (b) from things that are near at hand to those that are remote, or vice versa; (c) in accordance with some scheme growing out of the scene, as in Victor Hugo's comparison of the field of Waterloo to a capital A, with the three generals and their forces at the apex and the two bases.

(3) In argument the order may be: (a) from known to unknown facts and principles; (b) from accepted facts and principles to those that are questioned.

2. Use connecting words and sentences, and transitional paragraphs, to make the logical order evident.

Section 163 is an example of a transitional paragraph, since it makes clear the logical connection between Chapter XI and the preceding chapters. The first sentence in Section 151 illustrates the use of connecting phrases in transitional sentences the phrase, "of these essential qualities," connecting Section 150 with Section 151.

EXERCISE
I

Indicate the order of arrangement used in each of the following selections, point out connecting words and sentences which promote coherence, and suggest changes if they are needed:

The bergs had wholly lost their chilly aspect, and, glittering in the blaze of the brilliant heavens, seemed, in the distance, like masses of burnished metal or solid flame. Near at hand there were huge blocks of Parian marble, inlaid with mammoth gems of pearl and opal.

One in particular exhibited the perfection of the grand. Its form was not unlike that of the Coliseum, and it lay so far away that half its weight was buried beneath the line of blood-red waters. The sun, slowly rolling along the horizon, passed behind it, and it seemed as if the old Roman ruin had taken fire. Nothing, indeed, but the pencil of the artist could depict the wonderful richness of this sparkling fragment of nature.

In the shadows of the bergs the water was a rich green, and nothing could be more soft and tender than the gradations of color made by the sea shoaling on the sloping tongue of a berg close beside us. The tint increased in intensity where the ice overhung the

water, and a deep cavern near by exhibited the solid color of the malachite mingled with the transparency of the emerald; while, in strange contrast, a broad streak of cobalt blue ran diagonally through its body. ISAAC I. HAYES.

Ex. 2.

TELLING THE GOOD NEWS

In yonder wooden steeple, which crowns the summit of that red brick state house, stands an old man with snow-white hair and sunburnt face. He is clad in humble attire, yet his eye gleams, as it is fixed on the ponderous outline of the bell suspended in the steeple there. By his side, gazing into his sunburnt face in wonder, stands a flaxen-haired boy with laughing eyes of summer blue. The old man ponders for a moment upon the strange words written upon the bell, then gathering the boy in his arms, he speaks: "Look here, my child. Will you do this old man a kindness? Then hasten down the stairs, and wait in the hall below till a man gives you a message for me; when he gives you that word, run out into the street and shout it up to me. Do you mind?” The boy sprang from the old man's arms and threaded his way down the dark stairs.

66

Many minutes passed. The old bell-keeper was alone. "Ah,” groaned the old man, "he has forgotten me." As the word was upon his lips a merry, ringing laugh broke on his ear. And there, among the crowd on the pavement, stood the blue-eyed boy, clapping his tiny hands while the breeze blew his flaxen hair all about his face, and, swelling his little chest, he raised himself on tiptoe and shouted the single word "Ring!"

Do you see that old man's eye fire? Do you see that arm so suddenly bared to the shoulder? Do you see that withered hand grasping the iron tongue of the bell? That old man is young again. His veins are filling with a new life. Backward and forward, with sturdy strokes he swings the tongue. The bell peals out; the crowds in the street hear it, and burst forth in one long shout. Old Delaware hears it, and gives it back on the cheers of her thousand sailors. The city hears it, and starts up, from desk and workshop,

as if an earthquake had spoken.

GEORGE LIPPARD'S " Washington and his Generals."