Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

different. A spoken language is a living thing. It is continually growing and enriching itself with words from various sources; and one of these sources, unquestionably, is slang. Many expressions in the English language which are now recognized by good usage as legitimate were once mere slang terms. "Bias," "hazard," "hit the mark," "within an ace of," for instance, are examples of such expressions. The language has adopted these terms in spite of the fact that they were once slang; but it has adopted them because they were needed. It will adopt others just as readily, provided they also are needed. This, however, is an important proviso; and the young writer who is proposing to use a favorite bit of slang would do well to pause and consider whether or not, in that particular case, the proviso has been met.

Foreign words and obsolete words may be classed together as being, in both cases, quite outside the pale of the language, and therefore not available for ordinary use within it. The use of a foreign or an obsolete word is borrowing; and the only thing that can be said in justification of borrowing words is that the language has need of them, that without them certain ideas cannot adequately be expressed. When this is true, nothing can be said against the use of such terms. In point of fact, English has borrowed and retained thousands of words. "Street," "beef," and "terror," for example, are words that have been borrowed. Yet so thoroughly assimilated have they become that no one but the linguistic

student recognizes them as borrowed words. Borrowing, however, where no need exists is reprehensible. It savors of pedantry, and should be avoided.

As to the use of newly coined words, the caution already given with respect to the use of slang terms and foreign words may be repeated: it is permissible only when the language has need of the new words. With a thinking, progressive people, new things and new ideas are constantly coming into vogue; and so long as this is true, so long will there be a need for new words. To object to these new words would be to deny to the language the means of making a natural growth. At the same time, before a writer introduces, or uses, a new word, he should be quite sure that the need for it really exists. Language is, on the whole, rather impatient of useless terms. It prefers to adapt, wherever possible, old words to new uses, rather than to invent new terms for everything; and whenever it finds itself encumbered with more words to express a given idea than are necessary, it usually shows a tendency to get rid of some of them. As every writer owes something to his language, it is his duty, therefore, to avoid trying to foist useless baggage upon it. Before venturing upon the coinage of new words, he should exhaust the possibilities of those already at his command.

53. Accuracy. To tell the young writer that in his choice of words he must avoid all those not in

good use is, to be sure, to give him but negative advice; and this, as a rule, does not help him very much. What he wants is, for the most part, positive advice. Out of all the thousands of words which he may use, if occasion offers, what, for this particular occasion, is just the word he should use? This, for him, is the great question, as it is, indeed, for every writer, practiced or unpracticed. Unfortunately, it is a question which no one but the writer himself can do much to answer. He alone has complete knowledge of the thought to be expressed; hence he alone can tell precisely what is the right word in which to express it. To give him advice that will actually help him find the word he wants is, from the nature of the case, therefore, a matter of no little difficulty. Practically all that can be done is to give him hints as to how he should approach his problem. In the first place, then, truth to himself demands that he be accurate, that he choose the one word which will, so far as he can see, precisely express the thought he has in mind. At the same time, consideration for his readers demands that he be as intelligible as possible. If these two demands are in harmony, well and good; if not, he must try, if possible, to bring them into some sort of harmony, for it is then only that his words can produce their due effect. Where the two demands cannot well be harmonized, however, and it becomes a question of sacrificing either accuracy or intelligibility, he should sacrifice the former rather than the latter. A word

which is understood, even though it be not just the right word, may come near conveying the idea the writer intended; but a word which is not understood, no matter how exactly used or how accurately it may fit the thought in the writer's mind, is not likely to convey any idea at all.

Much depends, of course, upon the nature of the subject and the character of the audience addressed. In a scientific treatise addressed to scholars, we expect to find accuracy made the point of greatest importance. The writer here may practically assume that whatever terms he may employ will be understood. On the other hand, an address delivered before a popular audience must be couched in terms that any ordinary person will understand. Notice, for example, the difference in phraseology in the following passages, the first from an article on physiology in the Encyclopædia Britannica, which may be regarded as a work addressed to scholars; the second from Huxley's lecture on The Physical Basis of Life, which was addressed to a popular audience:

Similar considerations might be extended to other tissues of the body which are neither nervous nor muscular, and, though engaged in chemical work, are not distinctly secretory or excretory, such, for instance, as the hepatic cells engaged in the elaboration of glycogen. They might also be extended to those tissues in which the katastates are not exploded and discharged, but retained and massed up in the body for mechanical or other purposes, to cartilage, for instance, the chondrigenous basis or ground-substance which many considerations show to be a product or katastate of protoplasm.

In order to make the title of this discourse generally intelligible, I have translated the term "Protoplasm," which is the scientific name of the substance of which I am about to speak, by the words "the physical basis of life." I suppose that, to many, the idea that there is such a thing as a physical basis, or matter, of life may be novel so widely spread is the conception of life as a something which works through matter, but is independent of it; and even those who are aware that matter and life are inseparably connected, may not be prepared for the conclusion plainly suggested by the phrase, "the physical basis of life," that there is some one kind of matter which is common to all living beings, and that their endless diversities are bound together by a physical as well as an ideal unity. In fact, when first apprehended, such a doctrine as this appears almost shocking to common sense.

What has been said here with regard to accuracy presupposes that the writer is painstaking, that he makes some real attempt to find the word which exactly fits his idea. This, to be sure, is not the case with most young writers; but even if it were, there would still remain for them the question, How to find the right word? In reply to this question, it may be frankly said that wide reading and at least some experience in writing will alone give one that thorough knowledge of words necessary to the making of the right choice of a word on a given occasion. He who would learn to write, then, should first do a good deal of reading, the more the better. Reading, however, can be supplemented by the judicious use of a dictionary or a book of synonyms; and it is a good plan for the beginner to keep one or the other at his elbow

« AnteriorContinuar »