for himself. The old systems strove to bring us to such wisdom by reverent study and sometimes by cruelly irreverent mangling — of the greatest works of the masters. There are minds, and not a few, that can come thither only by such means; but there are other minds, and not a few, I think, who can come thither better by such humbler means as ours: by striving each for himself to do his best. By and by he must come to know how little a thing that is by the side of what he longed to do; and by and by he will find that thus he has come to learn how vast a thing beside the little that the masters have accomplished is the thing for which they have striven. So, by one road as by the other, men may come at last face to face with what most of all wise men love to face, — with the infinite realities that lie, and that must forever lie, beyond human ken.

.IX.

SUMMARY.

It has been my purpose to lay before you, as simply and as broadly as I could, the theory of style to which ten years of study have led me. To most people, as I said in the beginning, this matter that we have been discussing seems a question of endless detail, and of detail which may be declared in every case right or wrong. To me, as I have tried to show you, it seems rather a matter governed by a very few simple general principles. The art of composition, like any other art, can be mastered only by incessant, earnest practice and effort; but the principles that should govern the conduct of whoever would learn to practise it, and the ends he should keep in view, seem to me the principles and the ends and no others that I have attempted to lay before you. My task is almost done. There remains for me only to sum up, as briefly as I can, the substance of the eight chapters in which I have striven to tell what I know of the elements and the qualities of Style.

Style, the expression of thought and feeling in written words, must affect readers in three distinct ways,

intellectually, emotionally, and æsthetically. To

the qualities in style which produce these effects we give the names Clearness, Force, and Elegance. But any piece of style presents to the eye only those arbitrary marks that common consent, good use, has made significant of those arbitrary sounds - words -- that good use has made significant of certain more or less definite phases of thought and emotion. The qualities of style, then, can be conveyed from writer to reader only by means of the way in which these black marks are chosen and arranged, — in brief, only by our choice and composition of words. In a given piece of writing, then, we may discover why a given quality is present or absent by analyzing the elements presented to the eye. In this analysis it is convenient to examine the elements in four stages: first, Words by themselves; then those compositions of words that we call Sentences; then those compositions of sentences that we call Paragraphs; and finally, those larger compositions to which we may give the name of Wholes. Of words we must always remember that they are arbitrary sounds to which meaning is given only by good use. Our choice of words, then, must be absolutely governed by good use; but within its limits we are able to produce widely various effects by varying our kinds of words and our number of words. Of sentences we must always remember that they are largely governed by good use, — to which in this case we give the name 66 grammar." Within its limits, however, we are free to vary the kinds of our sentences, and to apply to our sentences

the three principles of composition. The first, the principle of Unity, concerns the substance of a composition: each composition should group itself about one central idea. The second, the principle of Mass, concerns the external form of a composition: the chief parts of each composition should be so placed as readily to catch the eye. The third, the principle of Coherence, concerns the internal arrangement of a composition: the relation of each part of a composition to its neighbors should be unmistakable. Constantly hampered in sentences by the paramount authority of good use, the operation of these principles in paragraphs and in whole compositions may proceed almost untrammelled. And the visible body of modern English style may conveniently be regarded as the result of a constant and by no means finished conflict between good use and these three simple principles of composition, which seem slowly to be gaining authority. And now, having seen that the secret of the qualities of style must be sought in the elements, we may finally ask ourselves if in the elements we may detect any traits that are favorable to one quality or another. To me it seems that we may detect a trait favorable to each. Never forgetting the vast extent of our thoughts and emotions, and the very narrow limits of even the widest vocabulary, we remember that each of our words must not only name an idea, but along with the idea it names must subtilely but surely suggest others. I have borrowed from logic two names there used technically — to

express these two powers of words. To their power of naming ideas, I have ventured to give the name "denotation;" to their power of suggesting ideas, I have ventured to give the name " connotation." And I have tried to show you that such choice and composition of the elements of style as shall best denote our meaning is what Clearness demands; that such choice and composition of the elements as shall best connote our emotion is what Force demands; and that such choice and composition of the elements as shall most exquisitely adapt itself to the eternally elusive immaterial reality of thought and emotion is what Elegance demands. In a single sentence, to sum up all I have tried to tell you, all that ten years of toilsome work have taught me the secret of Clearness lies in denotation; the secret of Force lies in connotation; the secret of Elegance lies in adaptation.