titutes
a beauty, and what a blemish--cannot fail to be of service.

Sec. 2. No general theory of expression seems yet to have been enunciated.
The maxims contained in works on composition and rhetoric, are presented
in an unorganized form. Standing as isolated dogmas--as empirical
generalizations, they are neither so clearly apprehended, nor so much
respected, as they would be were they deduced from some simple first
principle. We are told that "brevity is the soul of wit." We hear styles
condemned as verbose or involved. Blair says that every needless part of
a sentence "interrupts the description and clogs the image;" and again,
that "long sentences fatigue the reader's attention." It is remarked by
Lord Kaimes, that "to give the utmost force to a period, it ought, if
possible, to be closed with that word which makes the greatest figure."
That parentheses should be avoided and that Saxon words should be used
in preference to those of Latin origin, are established precepts. But,
however influential the truths thus dogmatically embodied, they would
be much more influential if reduced to something like scientific
ordination. In this, as in other cases, conviction will be greatly
strengthened when we understand the why. And we may be sure that
a comprehension of the general principle from which the rules of
composition result, will not only bring them home to us with greater
force, but will discover to us other rules of like origin.

Sec. 3. On seeking for some clue to the law underlying these current
maxims, we may see shadowed forth in many of them, the importance of
economizing the reader's or hearer's attention, To so present ideas that
they may be apprehended with the least possible mental effort, is the
desideratum towards which most of the rules above quoted point. When we
condemn writing that is wordy, or confused, or intricate--when we praise
this style as easy, and blame that as fatiguing, we consciously or
unconsciously assume this desideratum as our standard of judgment.
Regarding language as an apparatus of symbols for the conveyance of
thought, we may say that, as in a mechanical apparatus, the more simple
and the better arranged its parts, the greater will be the effect
produced. In either case, whatever force is absorbed by the machine is
deducted from the result. A reader or listener has at each moment but a
limited amount of mental power available. To recognize and interpret the
symbols presented to hi