Why We Punctuate; or, Reason Versus Rule in the Use of Marks

CHAPTER V

Chapter 54,255 wordsPublic domain

SOME USES OF THE DASH

It is often said that the dash is the mark of ignorance in punctuation. When a writer does not know how to punctuate his own language at any point he uses a dash. When one, in the preparation of another’s manuscript for the printer, cannot exactly make out the meaning at any point, and therefore does not know what mark to use, he inserts a dash. When the printer, who does most of the world’s punctuation, is in doubt, he uses a dash.

Out of this mass of hit-or-miss punctuation, many writers of text-books on punctuation have attempted to formulate rules for the use of the dash. The result is—“all that could be expected.”

The dash is a useful mark. It came late into our language; and it came to meet a real need, which our illustrative sentences and discussions, we hope, will reveal.

One of the distinctive uses of the dash is to indicate a rhetorical pause made by a speaker for a specific and well-understood purpose. Mr. De Vinne says “the dash should be selected whenever there is an abrupt change in a statement.” This is the primary use of the mark, and is the one generally understood by persons with even a slight knowledge of punctuation. Mr. De Vinne illustrates his definition by a sentence which possesses special interest for the student of punctuation. This sentence appears also in the works of Mr. Wilson and Mr. Bigelow, and in several other text-books on punctuation. As Mr. Wilson’s work antedates all the others, it is probable that he first used the sentence.

As Mr. Bigelow and Mr. De Vinne made changes, even though slight, in the sentence, its study becomes both interesting and informing. We give the sentence as written by each of these writers:

28. HERE LIES THE GREAT—False marble! where? Nothing but sordid dust lies here.—Wilson.

28-1. Here lies the great— False marble! where? Nothing but sordid dust lies here.—Bigelow.

28-2. Here lies the great—false marble! where? Nothing but sordid dust lies here.—De Vinne.

Let us carefully compare these examples, and ask the meanings of the different modes of printing them.

In No. 28 the first four words are in small-capital letters, the first word of the sentence beginning, of course, with a capital. The word “false” begins with a capital.

In No. 28-1 there are no small-capital letters, and there is a space after the dash.

In 28-2 “false” begins with a small letter.

We are not particularly concerned with the second part of the example (nothing but sordid dust lies here).

What is the meaning of the small-capital letters in No. 28?

What is the meaning of the space following the dash in No. 28-1?

What is the meaning of the capital letter beginning “false” in Nos. 28 and 28-1, and of the small letter beginning the same word in No. 28-2?

What punctuation will best reveal the full meaning of this sentence, so differently treated by these well-known writers?

We venture to assert that few readers would grasp at the first reading the _real_ relations in this sentence, and, further, that not a few cultured readers would make bad work of the sense in reading No. 28-2 at sight.

Mr. Wilson makes no explanation of his use of the small-capital letters; and their absence from Nos. 28-1 and 28-2 imply that Mr. Bigelow and Mr. De Vinne attached no importance to them. We think they serve a useful, if not an indispensable, purpose; and it requires little imagination to picture the scene which this typographical device suggests. Let us imagine it, and learn one important use of the dash.

On an anniversary day, a crowd stands before the monument of a great man. Let us assume it to be a monument of Shakespeare. The speaker is in the midst of his oration, his listeners “hanging” on his words. He turns to the statue, and, with pointing finger, directs the attention of his hearers to the inscription on the base of the monument, which inscription reads as follows:

HERE LIES THE GREAT SHAKESPEARE

The orator begins slowly to read the inscription. When he reaches the name of the great man, he hesitates, turns his attention from the inscription to the monument as a whole, and, without uttering the name “Shakespeare,” passionately addresses the monument thus:

“False marble! Where lies the great Shakespeare? Nothing but sordid dust lies here.”

Having heard the speech, we come to prepare it for the printed page. How shall we punctuate the part of it now under consideration so as to convey the meaning expressed by the speaker in the break made after the word “great”? Mr. De Vinne’s mode (No. 28-2) of printing the language fails to show the grammatical end of the first group of words (the inscription); and, in the absence of such knowledge, the reader will not readily catch the relation of “great” to “false marble.” Mr. Wilson (No. 28) shows the change in two ways: by a change in the style of letters in the first word after the dash, and by beginning this word with a capital letter. The sense of the language clearly shows that the first group of words would have ended, in the absence of the dash, where the dash ends. The change from the style of letters (small capitals) also shows this. As the practice of using no period after a dash in sentences like No. 28 is thoroughly established, the reader learns from the first letter of the next word whether such word begins a new sentence. As printed in Mr. De Vinne’s work, “false,” beginning with a small letter, appears to be a part of what precedes, giving the meaning of “the great, false marble.” As printed in Mr. Wilson’s work, “False” begins a new sentence, and should have the usual space before it; but is it correct?

Mr. Bigelow, apparently seeing the difficulty we are discussing, puts a space after the dash, thus ending the sentence with the dash. This of course requires that “false” begin with a capital letter, the word being the first word in a new sentence.

We believe that if “false” is written with a capital letter, thus making a new sentence, the dash should be followed by the space that is used to separate sentences.

Our conclusions would require that the sentence be written in the following way:

28-3. “Here lies the great”— False marble! where?

Let it be remembered that we are attempting in the above sentence to reproduce on the printed page _what_ a speaker said and _how_ he said it.

If the first four words are a part of the inscription, the fact must be shown; and it is shown in No. 28-3 by the quotation-marks. The use of small capitals in No. 28 is much more suggestive of an inscription than the use of the quotation-marks in No. 28-3.

In our next illustrative sentence, the grammatical connection within the sentence is perfect, but the sense changes. Here the dash is used to suspend the thought in preparation for the surprise to come. It is a rhetorical mark, for it indicates how the words would be spoken:

29. He never lacked a good word—from those who spoke his praise.

A speaker or a writer often wishes to repeat a part of or all that he has said, and then continue with his line of thought, using different words for emphasis, for exactness, or for other reasons. Or he may wish in this way to summarize what he has already said, completing the sentence with the summarizing word as the subject. There seems to be no grammatical relation between the summarizing group of words and what precedes them. The dash serves to show the break in the sentence, and is thus merely a rhetorical mark:

30. He has been unkindly—he has been shamefully treated.

31. Persecution, injustice, ruined fortune—all seemed insignificant.

The office of the dash in each of the above sentences might be performed by a blank space of equal length; but such space might not always be easily distinguished from the usual spaces between words.

Some English writers use dots or two or more periods where we use dashes in sentences like the above.

Our next illustrative sentence, with its modifications, shows a very useful and quite indispensable office of the dash. The sentence exemplifies one of the commonest errors made by good writers.

32. The expenditure of this vast sum is entrusted to school officers, trustees, inspectors, and commissioners.

32-1. The expenditure of this vast sum is entrusted to school officers: trustees, inspectors, and commissioners.

32-2. The expenditure of this vast sum is entrusted to school officers (trustees, inspectors, and commissioners).

32-3. The expenditure of this vast sum is entrusted to school officers,—trustees, inspectors, and commissioners.

The punctuation of No. 32 is erroneous, for it does not show the relation between “school officers” and what follows.

That of No. 32-1 is not bad; but the words following “school officers” are not formally introduced, and therefore do not require a colon.

That of No. 32-2 is not wholly bad; but the words introduced are not a pure parenthesis, and to use the marks of parenthesis in this way would unduly extend their office.

That of No. 32-3 is the best, because the true relation (apposition) of the words is maintained, and is shown by a mark (the comma) already seen to be the proper mark for this relation. The failure of the comma to show the relation of apposition in No. 32 is due to the fact that the words following “officers” form an _apparent_ series with “officers.” The comma here needs re-enforcing by a special grouping mark, which office the dash performs. The comma shows the relation; the dash does the grouping.

We spoke above of extending the office and limiting the value of a mark. We mean by this that the more uses and, in consequence, the more meanings a mark has, the more difficult it is for the reader to interpret it when he meets it. For this reason the comma and dash seem to be the best mode of punctuating sentences like the above.

As we saw in Sentence 6, the colon is used to mark the largest divisions of a sentence; and it is used, as in Sentence 25, for the formal introduction of particulars. The former use is determined by the colon’s rank, which is above the semicolon and below the period; the latter use is conventional, and is without reference to its rank.

If two colons appear in a sentence, one because of its rank and one in the enumeration of particulars, there may be a seeming inconsistency in grouping. The same is true when a colon is used within a group made by a semicolon. For instance, in No. 25-3 we used a colon in each of two groups, the groups themselves being separated by a semicolon. We think it much better to use within each group the comma and dash than to use the colon, thus emphasizing the grouping done by the semicolon, instead of apparently subordinating the colon in each group to the semicolon making the two groups. This would give the following punctuation for No. 25-3:

33. In a bill of exchange there are three original parties,—drawer, drawee, and payee; in a promissory note, only two,—maker and payee.

We have thus used a comma and a dash to set off particulars formally introduced, making the punctuation of No. 33 inconsistent with that of No. 25, and apparently inconsistent with No. 32-2. If this resulted in misleading a reader, objection might be raised; but, we feel confident, this exceptional mode of punctuation is justified.

In our next illustrative sentence we get away from details either formally or almost formally introduced; yet the relation to be shown by the punctuation is just the same and quite as evident:

34. She had a face altogether of the sunny south,—a pure skin, black hair, and blue eyes.

Professor Wendell uses this punctuation a great deal and, we think, very effectively. Other good writers do not use it at all; but they seem to have no satisfactory substitute for it. Professor Wendell frequently uses it twice in one sentence, as it is used in No. 33. The following sentence is from his “Literary History of America” (page 2):

35. These records [of things seen and felt by men] are often set forth in terms which may be used only by those of rarely special gift and training,—the terms of architecture and sculpture, of painting and music; but oftener and more freely they are phrased in the terms which all men learn somehow to use,—the terms of language.

We may perhaps turn aside from our discussion of the dash to consider a point in the above sentence which illustrates our general principle of grouping, especially as exhibited in Sentences 10 to 10-3.

Many punctuators would set off by commas the group “oftener and more freely” in No. 35 on the ground that it is “an intermediate parenthetical group.” This would be thoughtless punctuation based upon a rule of questionable meaning. The _but_ relation in this sentence is between two groups of words restricted, respectively, in meaning by “often” and “oftener”; and commas should not be permitted to destroy a grouping that shows the contrast. Somewhat shortened, the sentence would read thus, readily exhibiting the point under consideration:

35-1. These records are _often_ set forth in terms of architecture; but _oftener_ they are phrased in terms of language.

The italicized words here emphasize the restriction of the thoughts that are in the _but_ relation in this sentence. In No. 10-2 commas perform this office by holding the proper words in the _but_ relation. We may not assert that commas in the second clause of No. 35 would change the meaning to the extent that it is changed by the absence of commas in No. 10-1; but the point of emphasis would be somewhat changed by their use in No. 35.

The combination of a comma and a dash to express apposition is most useful when the thing to be explained by the appositive words is suggested, as in No. 34, and not indicated, as in No. 33. We find a good illustration of this point in Gray’s Elegy as punctuated by the author; and we also find in this illustration what, we believe, is a late development of the dash. The poet Gray was one of the most painstaking writers known in literature. There was a comma in the first line of the manuscript of his Elegy in a Country Churchyard when sent to the printer:

35A. The curfew tolls, the knell of parting day.

The comma here means just what the comma in No. 34 means. What follows “tolls” is in apposition with the thing which “the curfew tolls” suggests, as what follows the comma and dash in No. 34 is in apposition with a picture suggested by what precedes. The suggestion in No. 35A is less apparent and more subtle than in No. 34.

The printer who received the manuscript of the Elegy did not see the picture, and so left out the comma, thus making the intransitive verb “tolls” a transitive verb. The poet’s musical ear felt the improvement made thus unconsciously by the printer; and the change was accepted.

In order more clearly to show the meaning of the manuscript line, we should punctuate it with the comma and dash:

35A-1. The curfew tolls,—the knell of parting day.

Thus the dash is an aid to the comma in grouping the appositive words, especially when following a thought only implied.

There is a very common use of the dash that is commended by all writers on punctuation; but not one of these writers has formulated a rule that differentiates the dash so used from marks of parenthesis.

A writer frequently uses a group of words that are _purely_ parenthetical in nature; and yet he desires to give them grammatical connection with the sentence. Such connection clearly takes them out of the class of groups of words requiring marks of parenthesis; but, because of their purely parenthetical nature, it does not put them into the class requiring commas or semicolons alone. As the group retains a twofold nature, such nature may well be shown by two marks. If it be said this is not good reasoning, we may well resort to a rule which, with the explanation of the conditions above given, together with a very general practice, will quite distinctly differentiate the class of sentences to be thus punctuated. Such a rule will have, at least, the merit of producing a certain degree of uniformity in punctuation. The rule may be about as follows:

RULE.—Matter that is purely parenthetical in nature, and yet is given grammatical connection, slight or otherwise, with what precedes it, may be set off by a dash or dashes together with the mark that would be required by the language with the parenthetical matter omitted.

One or two sentences will illustrate the points under discussion:

36. He cannot understand—nor can any of his leisurely countrymen—why tomorrow will not answer as well as today.

The matter here set off by dashes is a side-remark, purely parenthetical in nature, but given grammatical connection by the use of the conjunction “nor.” If the matter were not purely parenthetical, it would, of course, not take the dashes. A sentence similar in form will illustrate this point:

36-1. He cannot understand, nor does he want to understand, why tomorrow will not answer as well as today.

In the next sentence the grammatical relation is in the nature of apposition; and yet what follows “heroines” is not purely an appositive, for all “female characters” are not “heroines.” The added thought goes beyond the office of parenthetical matter, and becomes an integral part of the sentence, which cannot be omitted without changing the sense:

37. George Eliot’s heroines—her female characters, from first to last—are drawn with the serene firmness of omniscience.

The group of words here set off by dashes expresses too much to be either an appositive of “heroines” or a parenthesis explaining the meaning of “heroines”; in short, it is neither wholly one nor the other, and cannot be properly punctuated as belonging to one or the other class of words.

It may be well to note here the difference between Sentences 36 and 37 and Sentence 32-3, the latter being a type of sentences often improperly punctuated when the sentence is continued beyond the appositive group of words. We have just read such a sentence in the morning newspaper:

38. There is literature in our newspapers—a lively, colloquial, vivid literature, reflective of the life we lead—and we are grateful for his [Augustine Birrell’s] admonition that in the making of it we have regard first for truth and afterward for beauty, if we find it.

The error in the punctuation of the above sentence was probably due to the lack of a clear definition, in the mind of the writer, of the meanings of the dash. The relation of the matter between the dashes to what precedes is clearly that of apposition; and the dash alone is quite generally used to express it. We prefer, however, the comma and dash, as was shown in our discussion of No. 32.

This relation makes the appositive group of words a part of what has gone before, thus ending the first clause with the end of the appositive group of words. This puts the _and_ relation between the two _larger_ groups of the sentence, thus making the use of the second dash erroneous, and requiring a new grouping. A semicolon will best perform this office.

Punctuated in accordance with the above reasoning, and with some commas added, the sentence will read as follows:

38-1. There is literature in our newspapers,—a lively, colloquial, vivid literature, reflective of the life we lead; and we are grateful for his [Augustine Birrell’s] admonition that, in the making of it, we have regard first for truth, and afterward for beauty, if we find it.

THE DASH AS A PARAGRAPH-MARK

In order to save space, the dash is used, purely conventionally, between paragraphs not put in paragraph form,—that is, between paragraphs run together, as are sentences. Such usage may be seen in the definitions of any dictionary. It is permissible especially on postal and correspondence cards, or wherever economy of space is important.

EXAMPLES

1. Men, of your own family and out of it, sometimes put you on trains, and take care of you—sometimes.

2. To have courage without pugnacity, conviction without bigotry, charity without condescension, faith without credulity, love of humanity without mere sentimentality, meekness with power, and emotion with sanity—that is Christianity.

3. The weather was perfect,—the days warm, the nights cool.

4. Royalty bred in Saul what it bred in most kings of the East,—an imperious temper, a despotic will.

5. Nurses who cherish the professional spirit will be minor players in the drama,—faithful attendants in the day, silent watchers in the night.

6. Stevenson never lacks precision, clearness, proportion,—the classic qualities; but, outside of them, the variety of his masters helped him to be various.

7. This spider springs for his mark, and is remarkably sure of his aim,—a fact which proves that for distances of several inches the vision of hunting spiders is perfectly distinct and clear.

8. Serenity of soul is a divine gift,—prop, shield, and unfailing cordial in one.

9. Now, if it were possible that you, Sir,—and the keen eyes surveyed the young man closely,—could command the confidence of these dealers, you might make your visit profitable.

10. Mr. Newman’s syntax presents Homer’s thought in a way which is something more than unconstrained,—over-familiar; something more than easy,—free and easy.

11. Jackson’s conquests had been those of war,—always more dazzling than those of peace; his temperament was of fire,—always more attractive than one of marble.

12. The subject divides itself naturally into two main topics,—the political and the social and economic.

13. The work of his administration is represented by the City Hospital,—its buildings and equipment and its domestic administration.

14. Walt Whitman is the globe itself,—all seas, lands, forests, climates, storms, snows, sunshines, rains, of universal earth.

15. A few northern warblers were chirping in the evergreens along the edge of the summit, between the inn and the Point,—black-polls and bay-breasts, with black-throated greens and Carolina wrens; and near there I saw with pleasure my first Tennessee phoebes.

16. The patient has the symptoms resulting from dilatation,—dyspnea and serous effusion.

Without knowing the meaning of the three technical terms in the above sentence, the reader is informed by the comma and dash that “the symptoms” are “dyspnea and serous effusion.”

17. Her economies were frantic child’s play,—methodless, inexperienced, fitful; and they were apt to be followed by remorse.

In this sentence “child’s play” is not sufficiently specific to define “economies”; and therefore the characteristics of “child’s play” are added in the form of a group of adjectives looking back to “economies” and descriptive of child’s play.

18. A young man or a young woman may go, unaided and unfriended, to a large city,—may go with nothing and to nothing,—and yet build up a beautiful and successful life.

In this example the comma is required because it would be required after “city” if the _dash_ group (may go with nothing and to nothing) were omitted. The dashes set off the group, and thus connect what follows the second dash with what precedes the first one.

19. We made a brave effort to smoke the rats out with the vilest imaginable compound of vapors,—brimstone, burnt leather, and arsenic,—and spent a cold night in a deck-bivouac to give the experiment fair play.

This sentence is from an English classic, Dr. Kane’s “Arctic Explorations.” The first comma and dash perform a double office: they indicate and set off the appositive group that follows, and also act as the dash and comma in the preceding example.

20. The same note of character—the craftsman’s keen delight in work—is struck in “Adam Bede” and in the little poem on Stradivarius.

Here is a fairly well-established conventional punctuation which we do not like. The relation of the group of words following the first dash to what precedes it, is that of apposition, and is best shown by the comma, with the dash for grouping. This use would require the repetition of the comma and dash after the group. The comma and dash would conform to the punctuation of the examples considered above.

21. We went into the trenches a full regiment. We came out to retreat again with four hundred men—and I left my younger brother there.

22. In spite of his harsh, stern exterior, the man had wonderful depths of emotion and nervous sensibility. I think you can see it in his face—when you have discovered it otherwise.

Much of the beauty of language is lost to one who cannot read into the dash in No. 21 a scene of tender emotion, and into the dash in No. 22 a bit of philosophy, as well as a bit of humor.