5. In the military schools, the czar himself kisses the cadets, in full uniform.

6. On the morning of his appointment he informed his pupils of the honor he had received by means of a blackboard in the laboratory. 7. She looked at the girl as she finished her work most severely. 8. One evening John closed "Felix Holt" which he had been reading aloud with a sigh.

9. Where they found them, no one knows, but they found leaders. 10. Anne pondered over that look and the comprehending glance Miss Thorneley gave her brother for long hours.

11. His body is buried with that1 of his shipmates who went down on the gallant Maine, in the cemetery of Havana.

12. A fine bulldog; eats anything; fond of children.

13. It is the duty of the government to not alone2 treat all the citizens in theory alike but to do so in fact.

14 Throughout Europe, at this time, cavalry trusted altogether too much to their clumsy firearms, save when handled by some great natural leader of horse.

15. I understand that it is the proper thing for barbers to talk, while cutting their hair, to persons to whom they have not been introduced.

16. He neither appeared pleased nor surprised at anything he saw. 17. I took the opportunity, in an undertone, to suggest that the motion be adopted.

In the choice, in the number, and in the order of words. aim at clearness.

1 See pages 431-435.

*See page 292.

CHAPTER IV

FORCE

I. IMPORTANCE OF FORCE

Ir a writer's sole purpose is to communicate information or to elucidate an abstruse or a complex matter, he will aim first of all at clearness; but if he wishes to interest his readers or to influence their opinions or their conduct, he will aim at force. To this end, he will often choose a word that suggests an idea rather than one that presents it with precision, a compact expression rather than one that develops his thought at length, a form of speech that is a little unusual rather than one that is commonplace. In such cases, clearness may sometimes seem to be sacrificed to force, but in point of fact it is not; for the word that is forcible though not exact, the expression that is compact though not complete, may be the clearest for the purpose in hand because, by stimulating the reader's attention, it enables him to grasp the meaning at once.

Valuable as force is when controlled by good sense and good taste, it may, if carried to excess, become a hindrance rather than a help to the reader. If every soldier in an army is decorated, a decoration is no longer a mark of distinction; if every expression is equally forcible, nothing stands out from the page. Even Carlyle, powerful as he is at his best, repels some readers and wearies others by his lack of moderation. In his writings, vehemence may be accepted as the natural expression of his force as a man; but a "forcible-feeble" imitation of his manner has a family likeness to Æsop's ass in the lion's skin.

"Forcible-feeble" writers call the mere copying of a thirty-page theme a "monumental work," and a small meeting "a tremendous gathering" with the "aisles filled to suffocation." This style of writing is what Emerson had in mind when he wrote as follows, in his lecture entitled "The Superlative":

...

We talk, sometimes, with people whose conversation would lead you to suppose that they had lived in a museum, where all the objects were monsters and extremes. . . They use the superlative of grammar: "most perfect," "most exquisite," "most horrible." Like the French, they are enchanted, they are desolate, because you have got or have not got a shoe-string or a wafer you happen to want, not perceiving that superlatives are diminutives, and weaken; that the positive is the sinew of speech, the superlative the fat.

All this comes of poverty. We are unskilful definers. From want of skill to convey quality, we hope to move admiration by quantity. Language should aim to describe the fact. . . . 'Tis very wearisome, this straining talk, these experiences all exquisite, intense and tremendous, "The best I ever saw"; "I never in my life!"

Within the limits set by the rules of good English and by the obligation to be clear, a writer who wishes to produce an impression on his readers should give as much force to his sentences as is consistent with temperance and good taste. He should (1) choose the word that drives home his meaning, (2) omit every clause, phrase, word, or syllable that does not help to convey his meaning, and (3) so frame every sentence as to fix attention on what deserves distinction.

II. FORCE AS AFFECTED BY CHOICE OF WORDS

A good writer who aims at force will usually prefer short to long words, specific and concrete to general and abstract ones, words that flash an idea on the mind to those that communicate it slowly. He will also be careful to connect the several parts of each sentence in such

1 See pages 379-407.

a way as to make that which is subordinate in thought subordinate in form and that which is prominent in thought prominent in form.1 One means of attaining this end is through a wise choice of words that serve as connectives.

Weak Use of Conjunctions.-"And" is frequently, and other conjunctions are sometimes, so used as to stand in the way of force.

I

Salmon and trout abound,—a fact duly appreciated by several of our party.

II

Salmon and trout abound and this fact was duly appreciated by several of our party.

In the sentence under II, the writer treats the two clauses connected by "and" as if they were of equal importance. In the amended version, by omitting “and," and by putting "a fact" in apposition with the clause "salmon and trout abound," we throw the emphasis on that clause.

I

Daniel's father, wishing him to become a minister, sent him to an academy.

II

His father felt that he would2 like Daniel to become a minister and sent him to an academy.

The sentence under II lays as much stress on what Daniel's father felt as on what his feeling led him to do. The amended version emphasizes what he did - the important fact.

School and college compositions abound with sentences like that under II,- sentences in which two ideas, no matter what their relative importance, are tacked together by means of the convenient "and so."

The weak construction with "and" is the most common form of a common fault; but it is not the only form.

I

Compelled by necessity, he allowed himself to be enrolled as a guardsman, — the very thing he had said he would not do [or would not consent to].

II

He was enrolled as a guard, the very thing he said he would not do, but now necessity compelled him.

The sentence under II lays as much emphasis on the comparatively unimportant fact that "necessity compelled him as on the important fact that "he was enrolled as a guard." The amended version gives each fact its due importance.

I

As I was hurrying down School Street, an excited crowd attracted my attention.

JI

I was hurrying down School Street when an excited crowd attracted my attention.

The sentence under II is less forcible than that under I because it lays stress on the fact that "I was hurrying down School Street" rather than on the more important fact that "an excited crowd attracted my attention."

Weak Use of Participles. An unskilled writer often weakens a sentence by the misuse of a participial phrase.

Turning down the shawl, she She turned the shawl down disclosed a baby's face. revealing a baby's face.

The sentence under II makes more of the fact that the shawl was turned down than of the fact that a baby's face was disclosed. The amended version gives emphasis to the more important fact.

1 Is "do" the right word ?