+167. Exposition by Obverse Statements.+—In explaining an idea it is necessary to distinguish it from any related or similar idea with which it may be confused in the minds of our readers. Clearness is added by the statement that one is not the other. To say that socialism is not anarchy is a good preparation for the explanation of what socialism really is. In the following selection Burke excludes different kinds of peace and by this exclusion emphasizes the kind of peace which he has in mind.
The proposition is peace. Not peace through the medium of war; not peace to be hunted through the labyrinth of intricate and endless negotiations; not peace to arise out of universal discord, fomented from principle, in all parts of the empire; not peace to depend on the juridical determination of perplexing questions, or the precise marking the shadowy boundaries of a complex government. It is simple peace; sought in its natural course, and in its ordinary haunts.—It is peace sought in the spirit of peace; and laid in principles purely pacific. I propose, by removing the ground of the difference, and by restoring the former unsuspecting confidence of the colonies in the Mother Country, to give permanent satisfaction to your people; and (far from a scheme of ruling by discord) to reconcile them to each other in the same act, and by the bond of the very same interest which reconciles them to British government.
+168. Exposition by Giving Particulars or Details.+—One of the most natural methods of explaining is to give particulars or details. After a general statement has been made, our minds naturally look for details to make the meaning of that statement clearer. (See Sections 45-47.) This method is used very largely in generalized descriptions and narrations.
Notice the use of particulars or details in the following examples:—
Happy the boy who knows the secret of making a willow whistle! He must know the best kind of willow for the purpose, and the exact time of year when the bark will slip. The country boy seems to know these things by instinct. When the day for whistles arrives he puts away marbles and hunts the whetstone. His jackknife must be in good shape, for the making of a whistle is a delicate piece of handicraft. The knife has seen service in mumblepeg and as nut pick since whistle-making time last year. Surrounded by a crowd of spectators, some admiring, some skeptical, the boy selects his branch. There is an air of mystery about the proceeding. With a patient indulgent smile he rejects all offers of assistance. He does not attempt to explain why this or that branch will not do. When finally he raises his shining knife and cuts the branch on which his choice has fallen, all crowd round and watch. From the large end between two twigs he takes a section about six inches long. Its bark is light green and smooth. He trims one end neatly and passes his thumb thoughtfully over it to be sure it is finished to his taste. He then cuts the other end of the stick at an angle of about 45°, making a clean single cut. The sharp edge of this is now cut off to make a mouthpiece. This is a delicate operation, for the bark is apt to crush or split if the knife is dull, or the hand is unskillful. The boy holds it up, inspecting his own work critically. Sometimes he is dissatisfied and cuts again. If he makes a third cut and is still unsuccessful he tosses the spoiled piece away. It is too short now. A half dozen eager hands reach for the discarded stick, and the one who gets it fondles it lovingly. I once had such a treasure and cherished it until I learned the secret of the whistle-maker's art. He next places the knife edge about half an inch back from the end of the mouthpiece and cuts straight towards the center of the branch about one-fourth the way through. A three-cornered piece is now cut out, and the chip falls to the ground unheeded.
When this is finished the boy's eye runs along the stick with a calculating squint. The knife edge is placed at the middle, then moved a short distance towards the mouthpiece. With skillful hand he cuts through the bark in a perfect circle round the stick. While we watch in fascinated silence, he takes the knife by the blade and resting the unfinished whistle on his knees he strikes firmly but gently the part of the stick between the ring and the mouthpiece. Only the wooden part of the handle touches the bark. He goes over and over it until every spot on its surface has felt his light blow. Now he lays the knife aside, and grasping the stick with a firm hand below the ring in the bark, with the right hand he holds the pounded end. He tries it with a careful twist. It sticks. Back to his knees it goes and the tap, tap, begins again. When he twists it again it slips, and the bark comes off smoothly in one piece, while we breathe a sigh of relief. How white the stick is under the bark! It shines and looks slippery. Now the boy takes his knife again. He cuts towards the straight jog where the chip was taken out, paring the wood away, sloping up to within an inch of the end of the bark. Now he cuts a thin slice of the wood between the edge of the vertical cut and the mouthpiece.
The whistle is nearly finished. We have all seen him make them before and know what comes next. Our tongues seek over moist lips sympathetically, for we know the taste of peeled willow. He puts the end of the stick into his mouth and draws it in and out until it is thoroughly wet. Then he lifts the carefully guarded section of bark and slips it back into place, fitting the parts nicely together.
The willow whistle is finished. There remains but to try it. Will it go?
Does he dare blow into it and risk our jeers if it is dumb?
With all the fine certainty of the Pied Piper the boy lifts the humble instrument to his lips. His eyes have a far-off look, his face changes; while we strain eyes and ears, he takes his own time. The silence is broken by a note, so soft, so tender, yet so weird and unlike other sounds! Our hands quiver, our hearts beat faster. It is as if the spirit of the willow tree had joined with the spirit of childhood in the natural song of earth.
It goes!