so much on the writer's delicate knowledge of men; but the fact is to be noted that it is an object to be had in mind.1 4. The reader's æsthetic sense, his sense of congruity and fitness, is to be recognized and conciliated. It is using up attention for nothing when a word of ill connotation or a harsh construction, a crudeness of sound or a lapse from tasteful expression is left for him to stumble over and make allowance for. Economy is not secured to the full until the intrinsic beauty of the thought, as well as its logical content, has undisturbed course in fitting language. 1 "To really strenuous minds there is a pleasurable stimulus in the challenge for a continuous effort on their part, to be rewarded by securer and more intimate grasp of the author's sense. Self-restraint, a skilful economy of means, ascêsis, that too has a beauty of its own; and for the reader supposed there will be an æsthetic satisfaction in that frugal closeness of style which makes the most of a word, in the exaction from every sentence of a precise relief, in the just spacing out of word to thought, in the logically filled space connected always with the delightful sense of difficulty overcome."- PATER, Appreciations, p. 14. 2" Readjusting mere assonances even, that they may soothe the reader, or at least not interrupt him on his way."— Ib., p. 21. CHAPTER II. QUALITIES OF STYLE. DETERMINATE qualities of style, being merely the practical traits by which desired effects in expression are produced, manifest their need in all literary work, and therefore underlie all rhetorical study. Under various names and applications they will be constantly coming to view in the ensuing pages. The most comprehensive of them are here exhibited together, and some general means of securing them pointed out, in order that the present chapter may stand as a basis of reference and summary. The Deeper Conception. We call them qualities of style, but this they are only superficially. For what the writer is consciously working with, in any act of composition, is not qualities of style in themselves, but a rounded idealized thought, which he is concerned to express so truly that nothing of its intrinsic significance shall be lost. This significance, answering to nature and occasion, assumes some ruling aspect: it may centre in the exact content of the thought, or in its interest and moment, or in its fine appeal to the imagination, or in all of these. According as he feels this intrinsic power the writer will seek to give his thought such form and illustration as will bring it out; and thus, if adequate skill in work and phrase has been disciplined in him to second nature, the qualities of style come of them. selves, attracted by his single-minded fidelity to the thought.1 1" Truth indeed is always truth, and reason is always reason; they have an intrinsick and unalterable value, and constitute that intellectual gold which defies destruction: but gold may be so concealed in baser matter, that only a chymist can Nor is it merely in the thought that we discern the potency of these qualities residing. It belongs primarily to the fibre of the writer's mind and the deep bent of his character. Through a clean and clear style is revealed a mind clean and clear, a nature too honest to let slipshod expression pass; the opposite holds, too, and a bemuddled mind or a shallow character betrays itself inevitably. Earnestness of conviction or the lack of it, grace or coarseness, are in the soul's grain; the style is their mental photograph. The qualities that the writer would impart to his expression he must cultivate in himself.1 Summary of the Qualities. Corresponding to the main directions that a writer's endeavors for effect may take, the qualities of style reduce themselves to three: Clearness, which answers the endeavor to be understood; For all general aims in discourse these qualities cover the whole range of expression; other qualities being interpreted as aspects of these or as applications of them to purposes more specific. recover it; sense may be so hidden in unrefined and plebeian words, that none but philosophers can distinguish it; and both may be so buried in impurities, as not to pay the cost of their extraction."— JOHNSON, Lives of the Poets, Vol. i, p. 73. 1 The classic utterance of this truth is Milton's: "And long it was not after, when I was confirmed in this opinion, that he, who would not be frustrate of his hope to write well hereafter in laudable things, ought himself to be a true poem, that is a composition and pattern of the best and honourablest things, not presuming to sing high praises of heroic men or famous cities, unless he have in himself the experience and the practice of all that which is praiseworthy." MILTON, Apology for Smectymnuus. The following remarks on the relation of style-qualities to character were inspired by study of the mind and art of Tennyson:— "Clearness in thought and words ought to be a part of a writer's religion; it is certainly a necessary part of his morality. Nay, to follow clearness like a star, clearness of thought, clearness of phrase, in every kind of life, is the duty of all.” – STOPFORD BROOKE, Tennyson, his Art and Relation to Modern Life, p. 5. "We have critics not a few who regard sweetness and strength as attributes of style, and are ignorant that they are not attributes of style, but attributes of mind and character, expressed in style." - DIXON, A Tennyson Primer, p. 133. 2 Compare WENDELL, English Composition, p. 193. I. Clearness. To be intelligible, to make one's self understood, is the fundamental aim in all seriously meant writing; an aim prior to and largely promotive of all others. Not only what is to add to the reader's information and knowledge, but whatever is to thrill his emotions or stir his fancy, must come to him first through the brain, the thinking power. Hence the primal need of clearness, in conception and expression. So rigorously is this ideal of intelligibility held by conscientious writers that no word or phrase that would puzzle the dullest reader is willingly tolerated; the supreme aim is, not merely style that may be understood, but style that cannot fail to be understood. No room for the lazy plea, "Not quite right, but near enough," or for the arrogant one, “I cannot write and provide brains too"; the ideal is absolute, the occasion universal. To be clear, the writer must first be sure of a meaning very definite and literal, and then say just what he means, without seeming to say something else, or leaving the reader in doubt what he does say. This requirement, so much easier to define than to satisfy, looks two ways, toward the thought and toward the reader; and accordingly, the quality of clearness takes two quite distinct aspects, each with its dominating usages and procedures. Precision or Clearness in the Thought. Obviously the first and paramount duty is to be perfectly true to the thought, to set it forth exactly as it is, whether hard or easy, simple or involved. With the plain conceptions and events of everyday 1 "Non ut intellegere possit, sed ne omnino possit non intellegere, curandum." — QUINTILIAN.- Economy applies here; see p. 24, I. 2 The technical name for this literal core of expression is denotation; see WENDELL, English Composition, passim, and especially Chapter vi. "The secret of clearness," he says, "lies in denotation." This important subject of denotation and connotation will come up for detailed discussion later; see below, pp. 34, 46, 75. 8 This first duty has already been repeatedly suggested, pp. 14, 18. life this is no great problem; ideas do not transcend the compass of the commonest words; but when it comes to strenuous and deep thought, requiring close analysis and discrimination, evidently clearness and simplicity are not synonymous. An easy word for an abstruse idea, while it may produce a semblance of clearness, may actually becloud the thought more than it helps it. Some degree of difficulty, as exacted by the sphere of ideas in which one is moving, cannot be avoided. The only sure resource is to work for the exact setting-forth of the idea, nothing else, nothing less; and the clearness thus obtained, whether ideally easy or not, will be clearness of thought, yielding a shapely idea, or as it is called, clear-cut expression. Such precision depends mainly on the writer's vocabulary, the words he chooses to name his thought, rather than on the way words are put together. The following are the principal aspects that the endeavor for precise denotation assumes: 1. Choice of words for the sake of their unique aptness, their fine shades and degrees of meaning, their delicate implications and associations. 2. The judicious employment of helping and limiting expressions, such defining elements as are needed to fix the true sense and coloring in which the word should be understood. 3. Where the thought may gain by it, the juxtaposition of words whose relation to each other, whether of likeness or contrast, throws mutual light. This may often be done so unobtrusively as to attract no special attention, yet be very effective for its object. While precision is the first and most incontestable object in style, the literary ideal is not satisfied with being precise and nothing else. Too exclusive endeavor after precision makes the style stiff and pedantic, like, for instance, a law document; this fault is of course to be guarded against. The words and colorings may be just as true to the idea, and yet the pains of |