CHAPTER II.

THE LAW OF FULNESS.

HIS is a law that is very easy to understand. If we are going to build a house, we must see that we have not only the workmen, but also the materials-the bricks, the mortar, the wood, the slates and the glass. If we are going to write, about a subject, we ought also to see that our minds

are filled with a knowledge of that subject in all the bearings of it in which we intend to survey it. If there is any point we do not fully know and which we nevertheless wish to write about, we shall be strongly tempted to " scamp our work, and to make mere words and phrases do the duty of complete knowledge and clear conception. This is simply dishonest, and is pretty much like passing counterfeit money.

The LAW OF FULNESS is therefore only the mental side of the LAW OF SINCERITY. But, while the LAW OF FULNESS bids us write only what we know and know well, the LAW OF SINCERITY goes a step farther, and, in reference to mere style, bids us not think about that at all, but only and entirely of the subject-matter. Should ornament be necessary, the necessity for ornament will at once settle itself. That is to say, the love for our work will tell us how far we ought to go in ornamenting it. In this respect, we may borrow a rule from architecture, one of the chief canons of

which is, "Ornament the construction—and nothing else." That is to say, we are not to look out here and there for places to stick ornamentation on, any more than we are to look out for sentences into which we are to insert metaphors or similes, or any other "figure" which the genuine feeling of the writer has not summoned up.

The Law of Sincerity may also be stated in this way:

Think of the subject, and of the subject onlyand never of your words and phrases.

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If you have to hunt for phrases, then you are not yet in a fit state of mind to write. The process of " composition is in almost exact analogy with that of casting metals. Nothing can make up for the want of heat; and this mental heat is gained by thinking over the different parts of the subject-matter. When we are speaking with any one, we never think of the mere words and phrases we are using; we think only of what we are talking about, and of the person we are speaking to. And, just as in speaking, we do not feign a feeling, or employ words and phrases which would make people believe we have a feeling that we are quite without; so in writing we put down only what we exactly know and really feel about the subject. This will make the style exactly fitted to the matter; for the mind, full of the subject, interested in it, and always at work on it, will express itself naturally, and will not allow itself to be diverted from the main point by a frivolous hunt after a pretty phrase.

The law of sincerity, for the reasons given above, limits our use of quotation from other writers, and regards them as little better than "purple patches" upon a well-made coat of honest broadcloth; for it totally excludes all consciousness about words and phrases; our consciousness is at work

solely upon thought and knowledge. A sensible man cannot be conscious of his dress and figure; and neither can a sensible writer allow himself to be conscious of the dress or of the body of his thoughts.

The law of sincerity, moreover, is grossly violated in such a passage as the following from Sir John Cheke:

"Who can persuade when treason is above reason, and might ruleth right, and it is had for lawful whatsoever is wishful, and commotioners are better than commissioners, and common woe is named common wealth ?" Cheke was thinking far more of his words than of his subject, was aiming at puns and quirks and quibbles, instead of trying to give a vivid and truthful representation of the terrible state of his country and of a time in which such a state of things could exist. In one word, such a style is radically and irremediably bad, because it is self

conscious.

CHAPTER III.

THE LAW OF CLEARNESS.

LEARNESS comes in the first instance from a thorough knowledge and a clear conception of the subject one is writing about. If one's notions are clear, the language which will rush in to embody and to express these notions, will also be clear. Thus complete knowledge and complete clearness, will generally be found in the closest union. If a writer expresses himself vaguely, or obscurely, or confusedly, it will be found, upon examination, either that his knowledge is insufficient, or that he has written in a hurry, and has not given himself time to form clear notions upon the subject he is writing of. (There is, of course, the third case that he may not be fully acquainted with the language he is using.)

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The practical rule on this point, therefore, is :

Get up the subject on which you are going to write with the greatest care, and think over it as long as you can.

There are also three minor rules that will help us in connection with this point.

I.-Draw up a skeleton of the subject. On this question Dr. Whately's remarks are of great use:

"It should be added, as a practical rule for all cases, whether it be an

exercise that is written for practice' sake, or a composition on some real occasion, that an outline should be first drawn out,-a skeleton as it is sometimes called,—of the substance of what is to be said. The more briefly this is done, so that it does but exhibit clearly the heads of the composition, the better; because it is important that the whole of it be placed before the eye and the mind in a small compass, and be taken in, as it were, at a glance; and it should be written therefore, not in sentences, but like a table of contents. Such an outline should not be allowed tò fetter the writer, if, in the course of the actual composition, he find any reason for deviating from his original plan,-it should serve merely as a track to mark out a path for him, not as a groove to confine him. But the practice of drawing out such a skeleton will give a coherence to the composition, a due proportion of its several parts, and a clear and easy arrangement of them; such as can rarely be attained if one begins by completing one portion before thinking of the rest."

II. Contrast your statements, if possible, with the opposite statements on the same subject, or with similar statements on an opposite subject.

If, for example, you have to write about Travelling by Railway, you can make your statements clearer and more vivid to your reader by contrasting your rate of progress with that of a traveller on foot, or by the old mail-coach, or on horseback. Again, if you are writing on an abstract subject, it is useful to remember that "the only light of every truth is its contrasting error," and to seek for the most remarkable examples of these errors that can be found either in the actions of people or in the writings of authors. Though it may appear pedantic to say so, it is in fact a very great help to thinking to accustom one's mind to dwell constantly upon the contrasts of things, and so to get the one to throw new light upon the nature of the other. The habit of doing so in writing gives great vividness to the style; but we must be on our guard against overdoing this kind of device. A white surface gains in prominence by being put beside a black surface, a red surface beside a green, and so on.