aderie. Speech, like a man,
should be alive. It need not, of course, be boisterous. It may be intense
in a quiet, modest way. But if it too sedulously observes all the _Thou
shalt not's_ of the rhetoricians, it will refine the vitality out of
itself and leave its hearers unmoved.

That is why you should become a disciple of the pithy, everyday
conversationalist and of the rough-and-ready master of harangue as well as
of the practitioner of precise and scrupulous discourse. Many a speaker or
writer has thwarted himself by trying to be "literary." Even Burns when he
wrote classic English was somewhat conscious of himself and made, in most
instances, no extraordinary impression. But the pieces he impetuously
dashed off in his native Scotch dialect can never be forgotten. The man
who begins by writing naturally, but as his importance in the publishing
world grows, pays more and more attention to felicities--to "style"--and
so spoils himself, is known to the editor of every magazine. Any editorial
office force can insert missing commas and semicolons, and iron out
blunders in the English; but it has not the time, if indeed the ability,
to instil life into a lifeless manuscript. A living style is rarer than an
inoffensive one, and the road of literary ambition is strewn with failures
due to "correctness."

Cultivate readiness, even daring, of utterance. A single turn of
expression may be so audacious that it plucks an idea from its shroud or
places within us an emotion still quivering and warm. Sustained discourse
may unflaggingly clarify or animate. But such triumphs are beyond the
reach of those, whether speakers or writers, who are constantly pausing to
grope for words. This does not mean that scrutiny of individual words is
wasted effort. Such scrutiny becomes the basis indeed of the more
venturesome and inspired achievement. We must serve our apprenticeship to
language. We must know words as a general knows the men under him--all
their ranks, their capabilities, their shortcomings, the details and
routine of their daily existence. But the end for which we gain our
understanding must be to hurl these words upon the enemy, not as
disconnected units, but as battalions, as brigades, as corps, as armies.
Dr. Johnson, one of the most effective talkers in all history, resolved
early in life that, always, and whatever topic might be broached, he
would on the moment express his thoughts and feelings with as much vigor
and felici