choosing them be so concealed that the reader absorbs the thought without realizing the perfection of the art; this is what a writer of true literary sense will work for.

Perspicuity: or Clearness in the Construction. As soon as the claim of perfect fidelity to the thought is satisfied, the next step is to adapt the style to the comprehension of the reader. This, as has just been said, is practicable in different degrees, according to the intrinsic difficulty of the thought; but in all cases the aim to be sought is the greatest plainness and simplicity of which the thought is capable. The derivation of the word perspicuity, denoting the property of being readily seen through, or as we express it by another word, transparency, is a just indication of this quality of style.

Such simplicity of texture, such freedom from intricacy it is, that we think of first under the general conception of clearness. It is not necessarily a bald or rudimental style; it may indeed be the backbone and support of a full, richly colored, even elaborate scheme of treatment, the unmarked source of its vitality and power.1

That aspect of clearness which we thus name perspicuity depends, as intimated above, for the most part on grammatical and logical construction, on the way in which the reader is kept aware of the mutual relations of words and phrases, and of their orderly progress in building up the sentence and paragraph. The following are the general aspects that such regard for structure assumes:

1. A keen grammatical sense; instant adjustment of all syntactical relations and connections of words; constant watch

1 "He [the great author] may, if so be, elaborate his compositions, or he may pour out his improvisations, but in either case he has but one aim, which he keeps steadily before him, and is conscientious and single-minded in fulfilling. That aim is to give forth what he has within him; and from his very earnestness it comes to pass that, whatever be the splendor of his diction or the harmony of his periods, he has with him the charm of an incommunicable simplicity." - NEWMAN, Idea of a University, p. 291.

fulness against the two foes that most beset composition: ambiguity, or structure that suggests two possible meanings; and vagueness, or structure that cannot with certainty be reduced to any definite meaning.

2. Making sure that elements which are to be thought of together, whether as principal and subordinate or as paired and balanced against each other, be so treated by expression and arrangement that the reader shall not fail to mark the relation.

3. Looking out for the joints and hinges of the structure, that no gaps be left unbridged, and no new thought be introduced too abruptly to produce its due effect. An ideally clear thought is clear-moving, a continuous progress.

While centering chiefly in construction, perspicuity is not unmindful of choice of words and figures, so far at least as to require the simplest words and the homeliest illustrations consistent with accuracy. To go farther than this, employing on the score of their plainness words and illustrations not discriminative enough, is to sin against the thought, and in the long run to deceive with a false semblance of clearness.1 Where such a clash between precision and perspicuity occurs, the only safety is in keeping to precision. The difficulty may, however, almost always be remedied, as we note in the usage of careful writers, by repeating hard ideas in simpler or more everyday terms.

Clearness based in the Intellect. As related to the writer himself, clearness, in its double aspect of precision and perspicuity, may be called the intellectual quality of style, the quality wherein we see predominantly the thinking brain at

1 See above, p. 30.Minto (Manual of English Prose Literature, p. 494) mentions this as a discount to the much-famed clearness of Paley's style. "Perspicuity," he says, "is possessed by Paley in a very high degree, but the precision of his statements and definitions is a good deal affected by his paramount desire to be popular. Too clear-headed to run into confusion, he is at the same time anxious to accommodate himself to the plainest intelligence, and, like many simple writers, purchases simplicity at the expense of exactness."

work transferring its ideas fully and accurately to the mind of the reader. The training for this clearness, therefore, is just whatever best develops the thinking powers, in keenness, in discrimination, in grasp, in calm poise and judgment; but besides this there is also needed much patient and systematic culture in language, to subdue it to perfect flexibility and obedience. To him who has a passion for clearness the vocabulary and the grammar are a veritable workshop; a source also of the sternest practical interest.

II.

Force. Clear and intelligible expression, being the staple, the backbone of composition, is of course to be cultivated first and most conscientiously of all; but the cases in which mere clearness is enough, without the aid of other qualities, belong to the relatively elementary undertakings of literature, those works in which the bare information or reasoned thought is all-sufficient to supply the interest. But when the idea comes home more closely to reader and writer, when on the one hand it must gain a lodgment in dull minds or stimulate a laggard attention, when on the other its importance kindles the writer's enthusiasm or stirs his deep emotions, there is in it or must be imparted to it greater life than its merely intelligible statement would demand; the question of making it interesting and impressive comes to the front.

The various features that go to give life and vigor to style we gather under the general name of force.

While by clearness the object is to economize the reader's powers by making the style plain and easy, by force the object is to economize indirectly by stimulating his mind to do more, to realize more vividly or bring more interest and ardor to the subject.1 Hence whatever imparts force to the style is something that gives a kind of shock or challenge to

1 See above, p. 25, 2.

the mind, urging it to some centre of interest. The ways of doing this may be grouped under two general principles.

Connotation or Force through Choice of Expression. By the connotation of a word or phrase we mean what it implies or makes one think of, over and beyond what it literally says. Such connotation may suggest an associated object oř idea; as when in saying, "The words immediately fell oily on the wrath of the brothers," the writer makes us think not only of mollifying words but of oil poured on agitated water. Or it may suggest how the writer feels, and would have us feel, about what he says; as when in saying a thing he puts it not as an assertion but as an exclamation, thus conveying with it his feeling of wonder. Connotation, as it may take an infinity of shadings and implications, may influence the reader in the subtlest ways; but just so far as it enriches thought or rouses feeling, to that degree it infuses force into the style.

Only the more obvious ways of connotation can here be noted; others will be left for more detailed treatment in other parts of the book.

1. The employment of vernacular words, words that connote the vigor and plain simplicity of homely thought. A specific word is stronger than a general or comprehensive one; short words ordinarily more forcible than long; Saxon derivatives than Latin or Greek; idioms than formal and bookish words.

2. The employment of descriptive words; which, while they have their relation to beauty of style, are yet more truly instruments of force. By descriptive words is meant words that portray some striking or concrete or picturesque aspect of the subject; connoting thus the vividness of an object of sight. This is very useful in abstract subjects.

3. The employment of words in a tropical or polarized sense; as when they are used out of their natural place in the vocabulary, or connote some implication that one would not expect. Under this head comes the use of figurative

expression, in all its aspects. Such use of words gives them force by setting the reader thinking about them.

4. The cutting out of the minor and expletive words of a passage, so that the strong elements, the vital words, may stand forth unshaded.

Emphasis: or Force through Arrangement. - In oral discourse emphasis may be given to any word by giving it greater stress in enunciation. Written discourse is not open to this means; the reader has to judge what words are emphatic by the position in which they are placed. Through the structure of the sentence the emphasis is directed at the writer's will on the points of special impressiveness; these accordingly are points at which force is concentrated.

The following are the main aspects of this means of securing force:

:

1. Differences of stress, in all degrees of delicacy, are secured by placing a sentence-element before or after some other, at the beginning or end of the sentence or clause, or somewhere out of its natural and expected place. The ability to estimate accurately the effect of every smallest change in order, and so to arrange the whole that every element will seem to emphasize itself, is one of the most imperative and valuable accomplishments in composition.

2. Antithesis, which has been implied as an arrangement that promotes clearness by making one idea set off another,1 is no less truly an instrument of force, concentrating attention as it does on paired or contrasted elements and thus putting them into stress.

3. A strong impression needs in most cases to be a quick impression. Hence one of the acknowledged promoters of force is an arrangement or parsimony of structure which secures brevity; shown in some form of what is variously known as condensed, pointed, or epigrammatic expression.

1 See above, p. 3o, 3.