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How to Speak and Write Correctly
CHAPTER XIII
CHOICE OF WORDS
Small Words--Their Importance--The Anglo-Saxon Element
In another place in this book advice has been given to never use a
long word when a short one will serve the same purpose. This advice is
to be emphasized. Words of "learned length and thundering sound"
should be avoided on all possible occasions. They proclaim shallowness
of intellect and vanity of mind. The great purists, the masters of
diction, the exemplars of style, used short, simple words that all
could understand; words about which there could be no ambiguity as to
meaning. It must be remembered that by our words we teach others;
therefore, a very great responsibility rests upon us in regard to the
use of a right language. We must take care that we think and speak in
a way so clear that there may be no misapprehension or danger of
conveying wrong impressions by vague and misty ideas enunciated in
terms which are liable to be misunderstood by those whom we address.
Words give a body or form to our ideas, without which they are apt to
be so foggy that we do not see where they are weak or false. We must
make the endeavor to employ such words as will put the idea we have in
our own mind into the mind of another. This is the greatest art in the
world--to clothe our ideas in words clear and comprehensive to the
intelligence of others. It is the art which the teacher, the minister,
the lawyer, the orator, the business man, must master if they would
command success in their various fields of endeavor. It is very hard
to convey an idea to, and impress it on, another when he has but a
faint conception of the language in which the idea is expressed; but
it is impossible to convey it at all when the words in which it is
clothed are unintelligible to the listener.
If we address an audience of ordinary men and women in the English
language, but use such words as they cannot comprehend, we might as
well speak to them in Coptic or Chinese, for they will derive no
benefit from our address, inasmuch as the ideas we wish to convey are
expressed in words which communicate no intelligent meaning to their
minds.
Long words, learned words, words directly derived from other languages
are only understood by those who have had the advantages of an
extended education. All have not had such advantages. The great
majority in this grand and glorious country of ours have to hustle for
a living from an early age. Though education is free, and compulsory
also, very many never get further than the "Three R's." These are the
men with whom we have to deal most in the arena of life, the men with
the horny palms and the iron muscles, the men who build our houses,
construct our railroads, drive our street cars and trains, till our
fields, harvest our crops--in a word, the men who form the foundation
of all society, the men on whom the world depends to make its wheels
go round. The language of the colleges and universities is not for
them and they can get along very well without it; they have no need
for it at all in their respective callings. The plain, simple words of
everyday life, to which the common people have been used around their
own firesides from childhood, are the words we must use in our
dealings with them.
Such words are understood by them and understood by the learned as
well; why then not use them universally and all the time? Why make a
one-sided affair of language by using words which only one class of
the people, the so-called learned class, can understand? Would it not
be better to use, on all occasions, language which the both classes
can understand? If we take the trouble to investigate we shall find
that the men who exerted the greatest sway over the masses and the
multitude as orators, lawyers, preachers and in other public
capacities, were men who used very simple language. Daniel Webster was
among the greatest orators this country has produced. He touched the
hearts of senates and assemblages, of men and women with the burning
eloquence of his words. He never used a long word when he could convey
the same, or nearly the same, meaning with a short one. When he made a
speech he always told those who put it in form for the press to strike
out every long word. Study his speeches, go over all he ever said or
wrote, and you will find that his language was always made up of
short, clear, strong terms, although at times, for the sake of sound
and oratorical effect, he was compelled to use a rather long word, but
it was always against his inclination to do so, and where was the man
who could paint, with words, as Webster painted! He could picture
things in a way so clear that those who heard him felt that they had
seen that of which he spoke.
Abraham Lincoln was another who stirred the souls of men, yet he was
not an orator, not a scholar; he did not write M.A. or Ph.D. after his
name, or any other college degree, for he had none. He graduated from
the University of Hard Knocks, and he never forgot this severe _Alma
Mater_ when he became President of the United States. He was just as
plain, I just as humble, as in the days when he split rails or plied a
boat on the Sangamon. He did not use big words, but he used the words
of the people, and in such a way as to make them beautiful. His
Gettysburg address is an English classic, one of the great
masterpieces of the language.
From the mere fact that a word is short it does not follow that it is
always clear, but it is true that nearly all clear words are short,
and that most of the long words, especially those which we get from
other languages, are misunderstood to a great extent by the ordinary
rank and file of the people. Indeed, it is to be doubted if some of
the "scholars" using them, fully understand their import on occasions.
A great many such words admit of several interpretations. A word has
to be in use a great deal before people get thoroughly familiar with
its meaning. Long words, not alone obscure thought and make the ideas
hazy, but at times they tend to mix up things in such a way that
positively harmful results follow from their use.
For instance, crime can be so covered with the folds of long words as
to give it a different appearance. Even the hideousness of sin can be
cloaked with such words until its outlines look like a thing of
beauty. When a bank cashier makes off with a hundred thousand dollars
we politely term his crime _defalcation_ instead of plain _theft_, and
instead of calling himself a _thief_ we grandiosely allude to him as a
_defaulter_. When we see a wealthy man staggering along a fashionable
thoroughfare under the influence of alcohol, waving his arms in the
air and shouting boisterously, we smile and say, poor gentleman, he is
somewhat _exhilarated_; or at worst we say, he is slightly
_inebriated_; but when we see a poor man who has fallen from grace by
putting an "enemy into his mouth to steal away his brain" we express
our indignation in the simple language of the words: "Look at the
wretch; he is dead drunk."
When we find a person in downright lying we cover the falsehood with
the finely-spun cloak of the word _prevarication_. Shakespeare says,
"a rose by any other name would smell as sweet," and by a similar
sequence, a lie, no matter by what name you may call it, is always a
lie and should be condemned; then why not simply call it a lie? Mean
what you say and say what you mean; call a spade a spade, it is the
best term you can apply to the implement.
When you try to use short words and shun long ones in a little while
you will find that you can do so with ease. A farmer was showing a
horse to a city-bred gentleman. The animal was led into a paddock in
which an old sow-pig was rooting. "What a fine quadruped!" exclaimed
the city man.
"Which of the two do you mean, the pig or the horse?" queried the
farmer, "for, in my opinion, both of them are fine quadrupeds."
Of course the visitor meant the horse, so it would have been much
better had he called the animal by its simple; ordinary name--, there
would have been no room for ambiguity in his remark. He profited,
however, by the incident, and never called a horse a quadruped again.
Most of the small words, the simple words, the beautiful words which
express so much within small bounds belong to the pure Anglo-Saxon
element of our language. This element has given names to the heavenly
bodies, the sun, moon and stars; to three out of the four elements,
earth, fire and water; three out of the four seasons, spring, summer
and winter. Its simple words are applied to all the natural divisions
of time, except one, as day, night, morning, evening, twilight, noon,
mid-day, midnight, sunrise and sunset. The names of light, heat, cold,
frost, rain, snow, hail, sleet, thunder, lightning, as well as almost
all those objects which form the component parts of the beautiful, as
expressed in external scenery, such as sea and land, hill and dale,
wood and stream, etc., are Anglo-Saxon. To this same language we are
indebted for those words which express the earliest and dearest
connections, and the strongest and most powerful feelings of Nature,
and which, as a consequence, are interwoven with the fondest and most
hallowed associations. Of such words are father, mother, husband,
wife, brother, sister, son, daughter, child, home, kindred, friend,
hearth, roof and fireside.
The chief emotions of which we are susceptible are expressed in the
same language--love, hope, fear, sorrow, shame, and also the outward
signs by which these emotions are indicated, as tear, smile, laugh,
blush, weep, sigh, groan. Nearly all our national proverbs are
Anglo-Saxon. Almost all the terms and phrases by which we most
energetically express anger, contempt and indignation are of the same
origin.
What are known as the Smart Set and so-called polite society, are
relegating a great many of our old Anglo-Saxon words into the shade,
faithful friends who served their ancestors well. These self-appointed
arbiters of diction regard some of the Anglo-Saxon words as too
coarse, too plebeian for their aesthetic tastes and refined ears, so
they are eliminating them from their vocabulary and replacing them
with mongrels of foreign birth and hybrids of unknown origin. For the
ordinary people, however, the man in the street or in the field, the
woman in the kitchen or in the factory, they are still tried and true
and, like old friends, should be cherished and preferred to all
strangers, no matter from what source the latter may spring.