The adaptation of the writer's style to himself depends mainly on diligent and painstaking practice. It cannot come with the first attempt, nor with the second; it is the result only of long labor, and patient subdual of the intractable elements of expression, until they become an obedient working-tool, responding to every touch, and represent not only the writer's thought but himself, in all the rich endowments of his nature.

III.

What Qualities a Good Style, apart from its Individuality, should have. The cardinal qualities of a good style may be reduced to three, which are here given in the order of their universality and importance.

I. The first and indispensable quality of a good style is Clear

ness.

Generally it is enough if the writer devote his efforts simply to being understood; let this be secured, and other qualities will come largely of themselves. Such plainness, such clearness, is the foundation on which all other qualities are built; force or elegance of style counts for little, and seems indeed out of place, unless there is clear conception and expression under it. Nor is it enough for perfect clearness that a style be intelligible. Quintilian puts the ideal still higher. "Non ut intellegere possit, sed ne omnino possit non intellegere, curandum ; " not language that may be understood, but language that cannot fail to be understood, is the writer's true aim.

The quality of clearness, according as the writer's concern is predominantly with the thought or with the reader, takes two aspects.

1. Precision, or faithfulness to the thought. A well-mastered. and clearly defined thought gives the impulse to careful work with the medium of expression; hence its outcome is precision of style.

Precision depends chiefly on the choice of words, and especially with recognition of their fine distinctions and shades of meaning. While words are thus weighed and discriminated, critical care is equally exercised not to tolerate anything that only fills up or pads out, without making real addition to the thought. The habit of carefulness thus generated is well expressed by Walter Savage Landor, himself an acknowledged master of precision in style, in describing his own methods: "I hate false words, and seek with care, difficulty, and moroseness those that fit the thing." And the result of this habit, providing as it does for the finer and less obvious features, is a general cleanness and chasteness of expression, which to the intelligent reader affords peculiar satisfaction.

Too exclusive endeavor after precision may make the style stiff and angular; this fault is of course to be guarded against. The ideal is, so to conceal the workmanship that the reader may absorb the thought without realizing how exact and careful is the wording.

2. Perspicuity, or adaptedness to the reader. 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.

Perspicuity in expression is due mainly to the grammatical management of phrases and sentences, and is perhaps the most easily reduced to rules of any of the qualities of style. It calls for the mental habit of keeping strict note of all relations of words to each other, of leaving no word till its grammatical connexions are cared for, and of hunting out all possible ambiguities, vaguenesses, inconsistences. And the ideal sought is, everything in its place, every word where it will count for the most in representing the thought.

Perspicuity and precision of style cannot always both exist in the degree that is desirable. Some thoughts are less easy to make clear than others; and sometimes perfect exactness can be obtained only at the sacrifice of some ease of interpretation. In such cases, where the writer must choose between the two, it is generally advisable to decide for the precise statement. It is unwise to impair the thought for the sake of the expression. Let

the aim be first faithfulness to the thought, and secondly intelligibility, so far as the idea will permit; and few cases will be found where with reasonable care the two qualities may not be conjoined. 3. As related to the writer himself, clearness, in its double aspect, may be called the intellectual quality of style. Whatever trains the thinking powers, therefore, in discrimination, in grasp, in vigor, has its good effect toward producing clear expression; but besides this there is also needed much patient and systematic self-culture, in subduing language to perfect flexibility and obedience. It is this quality of style, in particular, that demands unwearied interest in all the prosaic details of composition.

II. To the quality of clearness must generally be added, for adequate effect, the quality of Force.

Precise and perspicuous expression, being the staple, the backbone of composition, is 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 comparatively elementary forms of literature, those works in which the bare 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 lodgement in dull minds or stimulate a laggard attention, or when on the other its importance rouses the writer's enthusiasm or stirs his deep convictions, there is or must be imparted to it greater life than its merely intelligible statement would demand. The various features that go to give life and emphasis to style we gather under the general quality of force.

1. As related to the reader, the devices for obtaining force in expression are, like those for obtaining clearness, simple and readily reduced to rules. They consist in choosing words that make a definite and particular impression instead of a general and vague one; in choosing words that mean or suggest a great deal, and so stimulate thought; and especially in so arranging words as to bring out important ideas in strong relief. The mental habit

required, therefore, is, study of the power of words, of their dynamic or suggestive qualities; and study of the position of words, until the writer can feel and calculate the effect of every smallest change in their arrangement. It is with special relation to the quality of force that the assertion holds, Words are things. Closely connected with force of expression, and generally a promoter of it, is brevity. A strong impression needs in most cases to be a quick impression. Occasions sometimes rise, therefore, where there is a clash between force and clearness. For while clearness demands the presence of particles and other subordinate words that, while they articulate the thought, tend also to cumber its movement, force demands that these be cut down or dispensed with, as far as may be, in order not to enfeeble the important words. In such cases, when one quality can be secured only at some expense to the other, the particular object in view must determine the decision. The writer must consider whether this object can best be promoted by fullness of statement, or by vigor of impression.

2. As related to the thought, force is a higher quality, less amenable to rules. A commonplace subject cannot be made forcible by manipulation of words; the effect is only a contortion. On the other hand, a strong subject scorns languid expression; it has a power and a cogency in itself that compels earnestness and quickened feeling in the writer. His duty in this respect, therefore, is more with himself than with his methods; he is to seek to be so in harmony with his subject that his conviction of its importance shall not fall below its demands. And the result of such harmony is a general vigor and virility of expression, more easily felt than described, wherein every word seems to have its mark and to take deep hold of the author's inner life.

3. As related to the writer himself, force may be regarded as the will-quality of style. It comes most genuinely when it is sought only indirectly, when the writer is determined to make the reader think as he does, and throws the whole energy of his nature into the attainment of his object. This calls in the deepest

sense for the culture of character; the writer must think closely, look upon things independently, and cherish true convictions. Let these be secured, and the writer has the best impulse to master those more mechanical features that appear in the perfected art.

III. The quality of style supplementary to clearness and force is Beauty.

An idea may be stated with perfect clearness, may make also a strong impression on the reader's mind and heart; and yet many of the details may still be an offense to his taste; or a crude expression and harsh combinations of sound may impair the desired effect by compelling attention to defective form. Any such disturbing element is a blemish in the style. Nor is it an offense to the cultured reader alone. Every one may be aware that a style is crude, though he may not be able to locate or explain the cause; and when an idea is expressed with supreme felicity every one may appreciate it. There is needed, therefore, in every well-formed style, an element of beauty, to make the style a satisfaction to the reader's taste, as well as to his thought and conviction.

Beauty in style is by no means synonymous with ornament; so far from it, indeed, that the question of elegances and decorations of style is here left wholly out of the account, belonging as it does rather to the peculiar susceptibilities of a subject, or to the exceptional endowments of the writer's mind. The quality of beauty is fundamental; supplementary indeed to the others, and ungenuine unless they also are present, but just as necessary as they are.

1. As regards its mechanical adaptedness to the reader or hearer, the quality of beauty depends mainly on sound. The writer needs to be on his guard against successions of sounds hard to pronounce together; against jingling recurrence of the same sound; and against harsh consecutions of accented or unaccented syllables. Further, he needs to guard against hitches and abruptness in construction, and against ill balance in clauses or phrases related to one another. In a word, he is to aim at smoothness and melody of expression, so far as these will not impair more important qualities.