language are wholly free from ambiguity, there is nearly always danger of employing a given word in one sense in one place and in a different sense in another place. Although many terms cannot be defined (see § 49), it is the duty of the writer to attach, in his mind, a definite and fixed sense to each term, and it is the duty of the reader to elicit that sense. E. g., if we are discussing the proposition that the annexation of Hawaii would be for the best interests of the United States (conceding the willingness of the Hawaiians to be annexed), we should determine precisely what is meant by annexation. Does it mean incorporation into the United States as a regular State, or does it mean acquisition of an outlying and dependent territory? Also, what are the best interests of the United States in such a matter?

Another proposition might be this: Theatrical entertainments are injurious to morality. What is included under theatrical here? Only public entertainments for money? Or private amateur theatricals, as well? Are operatic performances included? And what morality is in question? That of the spectators, of the actors, or both?

2. Syllogism.-Deductive reasoning is reducible to the form of a syllogism, i. e., two propositions, technically called premises, and a conclusion. As soon as an argument is thrown into this shape it may be analyzed logically, and its truth or error becomes self-evident. One form of syllogism is this: All A. is B.; C. is A.; therefore C. is B.; or, all men are mortal, John is a man, therefore John is mortal. The forms of the syllogism are too numerous and complicated to be treated here. But those most in use are easily understood. For an example see § 131.

The reader should try to reduce every argument that he reads to a syllogistic form, if possible. For it is in this form that he can most readily detect any lurking error. Thus Interference with another man's business is illegal; underselling is an interference with another man's busi

ness; therefore underselling is illegal. Every sound mind will perceive at a glance that here the term interference is used in two different senses.

Such a blunder in syllogizing is technically called a fallacy. Nearly all fallacies appear absurd when presented thus bluntly. But in actual writing they are concealed, even from the writer himself, in the mass of sentences and paragraphs. An argument from Macaulay has been cited (§ 64). Certain of his statements of fact are now rejected, notably the identification of handwriting. Disregarding this, and considering only the five other points, we may draw them up syllogistically thus: Junius must have combined [in his own person] all these points; Francis did so combine them; therefore Francis is Junius. But Macaulay overlooked and failed to prove the implication of the italicized clause, in his own person, although it is an essential part of his major premise. Was it necessary that the unknown writer signing himself Junius should have derived all his knowledge of facts and forms from his own experience? Modern investigators say not. The facts and forms might have been communicated to him by other men. Indeed, the present hypothesis seems to be that Junius was merely the obscure mouthpiece of other and greater men, who supplied him with the necessary data.

PART II.

EXPRESSION IN GENERAL.

76. THE individual manner in which a truly able writer expresses himself is called his "style." Thus we speak of the style of Shakespeare, of Tennyson, of Macaulay, of Carlyle. This manner is so individual, so peculiar, that it cannot be taught, nor even defined, though it may be recognized and appreciated. Being the outcome of a mature mind, it presupposes definite principles and aims in life, a diligent study of men and things and books, and a no less diligent practice of the art of writing.

If, by eliminating the individual element, we try to learn the principles and rules which have been followed by good writers in general, we deal no longer with Style proper, but with Style in a lower sense; to use a safe term, we deal with Expression. The principles and rules of Expression, taken in their totality, are numerous, complicated, and do not admit of rigorous classification. In fact, the study of expression is endless, as will be evident to every one who glances at the treatises upon rhetoric which have been written since the days of Aristotle. Nevertheless, from the tangle of so-called systems we may disengage two general truths. The one is, that poetry has its own modes of expression, differing perceptibly from those of prose. To quote Coleridge's aphorism, poetry has a different logic from prose. Therefore it is scarcely feasible, certainly inadvisable, to discuss the modes of poetry in a book designed for young writers of prose. The other truth

is this: Although many qualities may be desirable in prose-e. g., such qualities as wit, humor, pathos, etc.there are only three general qualities indispensable in all prose. These are Clearness, Force, Propriety. That is to say, we have a right to demand of every writer that he shall express himself clearly, forcibly, and in good taste. More than this we may not demand, except of those who aspire to be authors by eminence. The present work, accordingly, treats only of these three qualities.

CHAPTER IX.

CLEARNESS.

77. CLEARNESS as a feature of the general structure of a composition has been already touched upon in the chapters upon Paragraphing. Thus clearness will result from the careful observance of the rules of Unity and Sequence. See §§ 3, 5, and extracts there quoted. See also §§ 8-13 on the Echo, Connectives, Topic-Sentence, etc. as devices for securing clearness, and §§ 17, 18 on Paragraph-Echo and Link-Paragraph.

In the present chapter attention is called to clearness as resulting from the right choice of words and from the right framing of simple sentences.

1. SINGLE WORDS.

78. In a language so composite as English the difficulty of choosing our words rightly is very great-perhaps greater than in any other language. We have in the last. four or five centuries changed our pronunciation thoroughly; we have changed our spelling almost as much. We have confounded in sound and in form words differing widely in origin and in meaning. We have lost many native words that would have been intelligible from their mere form, and have replaced them with foreign words which, to the uneducated, are almost, if not quite, unintelligible.

E. g., we pronounce aisle, isle, island, with the same long 7-vowel. The first comes from the French aile, "wing," a word without s; the second, from the French île (earlier isle), in which the s has long been silent; the third is an