CHAPTER X.

FORCE.

FORCE as a quality of paragraph-structure has been treated by implication in Chapters II.-IV. A due observance of the principles of Unity and Sequence, a careful use of the Subject-Sentence, and a proper adjustment of each paragraph to its predecessors and successors, will impart force to the composition as a whole.

In the present chapter Force is treated with regard to the single sentence. And, as in the chapter upon Clearness, attention is directed, first, to the choice of words, next, to the sentence-structure.

1. SINGLE WORDS.

88. No rule can be given for choosing words with a view to force. A philologist might even be disposed to deny that any single word is in itself strong or weak, and to assert that its strength or weakness is the result of its fitness or unfitness in the particular sentence. E. g., when we characterize Webster's Dartmouth College speech as "a powerful argument," we are certainly forcible. But to speak of some one as "powerful weak," or "powerful mean," is anything but forcible.*. When Pope writes:

Our author, happy in a judge so nice,

he uses the strongest adjective available in the circumstances. But when the ordinary speaker says, "We had a nice time," he is decidedly weak. The following also is weak:

*This use of powerful as an adverb, equivalent to very, is not uncommon in certain districts of the United States.

A very nice way to preserve the relation between paragraphs is to make one paragraph echo the preceding.

Here nice is tame. "An efficient way" would have been far more expressive. If we say that the rush of water at Niagara is tremendous, we are forcible; but if we say that a certain player in a foot-ball game had a tremendous fall, we exaggerate and are consequently weak.

But, as a practical matter, apart from philological theory, there are certain words which the usage of the best English writers has reserved for uncommon situations. Such words, therefore, we may classify for practical purposes as forcible. They are words descriptive of the truly great achievements of the human mind, expressive of the strongest emotions, applicable to the worst faults and noblest virtues; such words as superb, magnificent, awful, terrible, heroic, tragic, etc. To use one of these words in a commonplace situation is to weaken the impression by wasting our resources. We are like a man who uses a sledge-hammer for driving in tacks. Courage may be courage without being sublime; a railroad bridge may be skilfully built without being stupendous; a violent and painful death may be sad without being tragic; dishonesty may have serious consequences without being a gigantic fraud; a man may live in a handsome house and yet not occupy a palatial mansion.

We should never forget that force is not absolute, but only relative. If to express a grand thing grandly is good writing, it is no less good writing to express a simple thing simply. This ability to express the simple things simply is characteristic of the best writers in every language, and is to be learned from them. Force, even more than clearness, is a matter of sound literary tradition. We may perhaps catch the general meaning of a word from its dictionary definition, but we cannot learn to estimate its force by this means.

We are to bear in mind also that of all the parts of speech the one most liable to abuse is the adjective. For

the adjective expresses quality, and quality usually admits of numerous shades or gradations. E. g., shall we describe a woman as pretty, or as beautiful? As charming, or as fascinating, or as bewitching? Shall we describe a mountain range as tall, or as lofty, or as towering? Is physical pain severe, or is it excruciating?

Carlyle, when not vituperating, is singularly forcible in his choice of adjectives. Thus note § 44, first extract, noble, umbrageous, serene, stately, massive, wavy, guardian, embossed; second extract, ruddy-tinged, slow-heaving, tremulous. In Stanley, § 37, note multitudinous irregularities. Perhaps the word is an echo of Lady Macbeth's "multitudinous seas;" Stanley is said to have taken a copy of Shakespeare with him on his march. In Green, § 38, note dauntless courage, amazing self-confidence, impetuous will. In Hawthorne, § 38, unmalleable cast; in § 41, ominous shadow, league-long strides, majestic landscape; in § 42, aristocratic flowers, plebeian vegetables. In De Quincey, § 43, unpretending cottage, eternal tea-pot, tenure so perishable. In George Eliot, § 43, pale meteor, gleaming eyes, bloodless lips, mimic suns, bossed sword-hilts.

Additional examples can be gathered from the other extracts.

89. Abused Words and Expressions.-Certain words and expressions, good in themselves, are worn threadbare with excessive use and abuse. Thus women are given to describing things agreeable or disagreeable as lovely or horrid; the nearest masculine equivalents are fine, or awful, and swell. In England a thing is done in good or bad form; in America, in good or bad style. Certain professions and classes favor certain terms to excess; e. g., a judge or a lawyer is always learned; in surgery a bold and successful operation is brilliant. The average congressman champions or else antagonizes a measure.

Every person is apt to fall into the excessive use of certain words, either through carelessness or through unfa

miliarity with the resources of the language. No rule, of course, can be given for correcting such individual faults. But the following suggestion may be helpful. Read your composition carefully and repeatedly, noting the number of repetitions. If they seem too numerous, ask yourself whether it is not possible to remedy the fault, either by employing synonyms or by changing the structure of the sentences. The latter expedient is especially to be recommended. It breaks up monotony, and monotony is a standing hindrance to force.

Apart from special and individual abuses, there are certain general ones.

Very; so; such a. How much very is abused may be learned by comparing a few pages of ordinary composition with the numerous extracts quoted in §§ 2-75. In these extracts very occurs only 30 times in all, thus, 3 in Hawthorne, § 36 (the passage is light conversation and suited to persons like Hepzibah and Clifford); 1 in Hawthorne, § 44 (also in a light vein); 1 in Hawthorne, § 48; 2 in Huxley, § 51; 1 in Tait, § 51; 1 in Macaulay, § 64; 1 in Addison, § 4; 1 in Addison, § 28; 1 in Goldsmith, § 15; 1 in De Quincey, 18; 1 in De Foe, § 43. In Irving, § 12, “the very witching time," and in Green, § 38, "the very air," the word retains its original sense of real, really, and is not a mere intensive adverb. Certainly the example set by good writers should teach moderation.

Such. Properly used, such is not an intensive, but a correlative. It is properly used by Dickens, § 41, “such a strange scene... that I could," etc., and by George Eliot, § 21, where we are to supply the ellipsis, “such a monument," viz. as that of Edgar Tryon. A similar ellipsis is to be supplied in Lowell, § 11, "such admirable dinners,” viz. as the Devil's.

To employ such as a mere intensive, in the sense of very, highly, etc., e. g., "This is such an interesting book," is to misuse language and speak tamely rather than forcibly.

So. This is either a demonstrative, equivalent to thus, or a correlative. Note the correct use by Landor, § 15, and De Quincey, § 6, "so then."

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The sentence, "This book is so interesting," is as bad as the other sentence, "This is such an interesting book," and for the same reason.

90. And. This word is misused and abused without the slightest regard to its true office. Especially is it used out of place at the beginning of sentences and paragraphs.

Good writers seldom begin a sentence, and scarcely ever begin a paragraph, with and. In the extracts, §§ 2-75, there is not one paragraph beginning thus, and there are only 8 sentences, e. g., 3 in De Quincey, § 36 (beginning of the third section of the quotation), § 43 (the whole passage is in a jocular vein), § 31 (an instance of repeated structure); 1 in George Eliot, § 43; 1 in Hawthorne, § 11; 1 in Macaulay, § 21.

In the following passages and is superfluous within the

sentence:

"and when you shut one off," Tait, § 64.

"and, finally, the relations," Huxley, § 51.

In Stanley, § 37, and is used too frequently. On the other hand, in Carlyle, § 44, observe the boldness due to the omission of the copula; and occurs only once, and there it is indispensable.

For correct and forcible use of and see Shelley, § 40, and Dickens, § 41.

Faulty use of and results from a wrong conception of the word. Let us first consider what the word is not.

a. And is not the universal copula, but only one out of

many.

b. It is not properly used to mark any and every stage in the writer's thinking, or to mark any and every change in structure.

c. It is not the proper copula for expressing subordina