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The best authorities give the following as a general rule for clearness in the use and arrangement of words: Use particular terms in speaking or writing of particular objects; use general terms in speaking or writing of general objects . Also, to secure clearness: In the choice of words favor those which more nearly define themselves; and discard, those which are most capable of obscure, equivocal, or ambiguous interpretation .

Pronouns are frequently the cause of obscurity, ambiguity or equivocation in interpretation of the sentences containing them. Clearness requires that a pronoun should refer, without question, to its one antecedent alone. Avoid ambiguous pronouns. The clearest and best writers never shrink from using a word twice, rather than to substitute a pronoun which fails to refer directly to its antecedent noun without a possibility of mistake. Freeman says of this: “I learned from Macaulay * * * never to be afraid of using the same word or name over again, if by that means anything could be added to clearness or force. Macaulay never goes on, like some writers, talking about ‘the former’ and ‘the latter,’ ‘he, she, it, they,’ through clause after clause, while his reader has to look back to see which of several persons it is that is so darkly referred to. No doubt a pronoun, like any other word, may often be repeated with advantage, if it is perfectly clear who is meant by the pronoun. And with Macaulay’s pronouns, it is always perfectly clear who is meant by them.” In the following paragraph from Macaulay, the pronoun “he” is used twelve times, and yet with perfect clearness and without ambiguity. This paragraph is a model, and is worthy of careful study and analysis:

The situation of William was very different. He could not, like those who had ruled before him, pass an Act in the spring and violate it in the summer. He had, by assenting to the Bill of Rights, solemnly renounced the dispensing power; and he was restrained, by prudence as well as by conscience and honour, from breaking the compact under which he held his crown. A law might be personally offensive to him; it might appear to him to be pernicious to his people; but, as soon as he had passed it, it was, in his eyes, a sacred thing. He had therefore a motive, which preceding Kings had not, for pausing before he passed such a law. They gave their word readily, because they had no scruple about breaking it. He gave his word slowly, because he never failed to keep it.—MACAULAY: History of England.

The following quotations show the fault of the obscure or ambiguous pronoun:

“A tremendous fall of snow rendered his departure impossible for more than ten days When the roads began to become a little practicable, they successively received news of the retreat of the Chevalier Into Scotland.”—SCOTT.

“ They were persons of such moderate Intellects, even before they were impaired by their passion, that their irregularities could not furnish sufficient variety of folly.”—STEELE.

“It was the loss of his son on whom he had looked with an affection which belonged to his character, with an exaggerated admiration which was a most pardonable exercise of his fancy which struck the fatal blow to his spirit as well as to his body.”—MAURICE.

“Rasselas was the fourth son of the mighty emperor in whose dominions the Father of Waters begins his course; whose bounty pours down the streams of plenty, and scatters over half the world the harvests of Egypt.”—JOHNSON.

Hill makes the following very proper criticism regarding the fault of “fine writing,” which is also equally noticeable in the speech of many people who pride themselves upon the assortment of “choice terms:” “In fine writing every clapping of hands is an ‘ovation,’ every fortune ‘colossal,’ every marriage an ‘alliance,’ every crowd ‘a sea of faces.’ A hair-dresser becomes a ‘tonsorial artist;’ an apple-stand, a ‘bureau of Pomona;’ an old carpenter, ‘a gentleman long identified with the building interest.’ A man does not breakfast, but he ‘discusses (or “partakes of”) the morning repast;’ he does not sit down at table, but he ‘repairs to the festive board;’ he does not go home, but he ‘proceeds to his residence;’ he does not go to bed, but he ‘retires to his downy couch;’ he sits, not for his portrait, but for his ‘counterfeit presentment;’ he no longer waltzes, but he ‘participates in round dances;’ he is not thanked, but he is ‘the recipient of grateful acknowledgments.’ A home is not building, but is ‘in process of erection;’ it is not burned down, but is ‘destroyed in its entirety by the devouring element.’ A ship is not launched, but it ‘glides into its native element.’ When a man narrowly escapes drowning, ‘the waves are balked of their prey.’ Not only presidents, but aqueducts, millinery shops, and railroad strikes are ‘inaugurated.’ We no longer threaten, but we ‘indulge in minatory expressions.’ This vulgar finery is so much worn in the pulpit as to render plain language there offensive. An American clergyman was subjected to a severe censure for using the word ‘beans’ in a sermon; and a recent English magazine relates a similar incident: ‘I remember quite a sensation running through a congregation when a preacher one evening, instead of talking about ‘habits of cleanliness’ and the ‘necessity of regular ablution,’ remarked that ‘plenty of water had a healthy, bracing effect upon the body, and so indirectly benefited the mind.’”

We refer the student to Macaulay’s “History of England” as a model of clear style and almost perfect choice of words. ‘A study of this work will do much to impart clearness and to cure one of the faults of ambiguity and obscurity.

Table of Content

THE SECOND essential in the choice of words is force, or strength . In certain forms of composition, as for instance judicial opinions, scientific reports, text-books and other forms of writing, the purpose of which is simply to furnish instruction or information, clearness is the prime essential, and force is not so much needed. But in writing or speaking, the purpose of which is to impress and influence the minds of others, force and strength are required. The words must be chosen not only with the idea and purpose of clearness but also with the direct intent to attract and hold the attention of the person addressed, and to make him feel the meaning behind the words. Force is needed to attract attention, to arouse interest, to awaken desire, and to cause action. This quality of force or strength is known by different names among the authorities. Campbell calls it vivacity ; Whately, energy ; Bain, strength ; but as Hill says: “a style may be vivacious without being energetic, or energetic without being strong. Force covers the ground more satisfactorily, perhaps, than any other single term.”

In choosing words for their quality of force, it will be found that in the majority of cases the clearest word will prove the most forcible. But when the choice is between two words equally clear, it will be found that one or the other seems to possess an illustrative force superior to the other. This arises from a peculiar psychological association, and is recognized more or less instinctively, once the attention is directed toward the subject. The speaker feels the force of the word, as does the hearer. As an illustration of the comparative force of words, let us direct your attention to the following familiar quotation— the Parable of the Lilies—and then to the paraphrase of a modern writer designed to bring out this particular point. The Parable follows: