Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1904-12-22

VI AAltSACot, lLC dDOlll1Oh VI NlCdit.
There is a misfortune greater than
these-the loss of confidence. of that
moral credit which honest people give
one another, and which makes speech
circulate like an authentic currency.
Away with eounterfeiters, spectators,
rotten financiers. for they bring under
suspicion even the coin of the realm.
Away with the makers Of counterfeit
speech. for because of them there Is
no longer confidence in any one or any
thing, and what they say and write is
not worth q continental.
You see how urgent It is that each
should guard his lips, chasten his pen
and aspire to simplicity of speech. No
more perversion of sense, circumlocu-
ton, reticence. tergiversation! These
things serve only to compIIcate and be
wilder. Be men. Speak the speech of
houor. An hour of plain dealing does
more for the salvation of the world
than years Of duplicity.
A word now about national bias to
those who have a veneration for die
ton and style. Assuredly there can
be no quarrel with the taste for grace
anu CiSS0ANV Va clO1Nh. GILL Ol OPAI-
ion that one cannot say too well what
he has to say. But 1t does not follow
that the things best said and best writ
ten are most studied. Words should
serve the fact and not substitute them
selves for 1t and make 1t forgotten in
It's establishment. The greatest things
are those which gain the most by be-
ing said most simply, since thus they
show themselves for what they are
You do not throw over them the veil,
however transparent, of beautiful dis
course, nor that shadow SO fatal to
truth called the writer's vanity, Moth.
ing SO strong, nothing SO persuasive as
simplicity! There are sacred emotions,
cruel griefs. splendid heroisms, pas
sionate enthusiasms, that look,
movement, cry, interprets better than
beautifully rounded periods. The most
precious possessions of the heart OF
humanity manifest themselves most
simply, To be CONVINCING n thing must
pa true, and certain truths are more
evident -. lien they come In the speech
~ ingenuousness, even weakness, than
when they fall from lips too well train
ed or are proclaimed with trumpets.
And these rules are good for each OF
us in his everyday life. No one can
imagine what profit would accrue to
his moral life from the constant obser-
walton of this principle: Be sincere,
moderate simple in the expression Of
your feelings and opinions in private
and public alike; never pass beyond
| rfx ant Faithfully what 10
within you, and above all watch-that
is the main thing.
For the danger in fine words Is that
they live from life Of their own.
| They are servants of distinction that
| have kept their titles, but no longer
| perform their functions, Of which roy
al courts offer us example. You speak
| well, write well, and all is said. How
many people content themselves with
! speaking and believe that it exempts
them from acting! And those who lis
| ten are content with having heard
| them. SO it sometimes happens that
| life may in the end be made up Of few
well turned speeches, few fine books
and few great plays. AS for practic-
| ing what is so magisterially set forth
| that is the last thing thought of. And
| If we pass from the world of talent
| to spheres which the mediocre exploit,
| there in a pellmell of confusion we see
| those who think that we are in the
world to talk and hear others talk
the great and hopeless rout Of bab-
blers, of everything that prates, bawls
| and perorates and, after all, finds that
there isn't talking enough. They all
| forget that those who make the least
| noise do the most work. An engine
| that expends all it's steam in whistling
has nothing left with which to turn
wheels Then let us cultivate silence.
| All that we can save in noise we gain
In power.
These reflections lead us to consider
| a similar subject, also very worthy of
attention. l mean what has been call
ed 1.-The vice of the superlatlve." If
| we study the inhabitants of country
we notice differences Of temperament,
of which the language shows signs.
Here the people are calm and phleg-
matte Their speech is jejune, lacks
color. Elsewhere temperaments are
| more evenly balanced. One finds pre-
cision, the word exactly fitted to the
thing But farther on-effect of the
| sun, the air, the wine perhaps-hot
blood courses In the veins, tempers are
excitable, language is extravagant and
strongest terms.
II the type of speech varies with eli
| mate, it differs also with epochs. Com
pare the language, written or spoken,
of our own times with that of certain
other periods Of our history. Under
the old regime people spoke differently
| than ut the time of the Revolution, and
we have not the same language as the
men of 1880, 1S4S or the second empire.
In general, language is now charac-
terized by greater simplicity. We no
longer wear perukes, we no longer
write In lace frills, but there is one
significant difference between US and
almost all of our ancestors, and it Is
the source of our exaggerations-our
nervousness. Upon overexcited nerv-
Gus systems-and heaven knows that
to have nerves Is no longer an aristo-
cratic privilege-words do not produce
the same impression as under normal
conditions; and quite as truly simple
language does not suffice the man of
overwrought sensibilities when he tries
to express what he feels. In private
life, in public, in books, on the stage,
calm and temperate speech has given
place to excess. The means that novel
lists and playwrights employ to galva-
nize the public mind and compel its at
tention are to be found again in their
rudiments, in our most commonplace
conversations, in our letter writing
and above all, in public speaking. Our
performances in language compared to
those of man well balanced and Sc
rene are what our handwriting is COM
pared to that of our fathers. The fault
is laid to steel pens. II only the truth
were acknowledged Geese then, could
save u.s. But the evil goes deeper; IL
is in ourselves. We write like men
possessed. The pen of our ancestors
was more restful, more sure. Here we
face one of the results of our modern
life so complicated and so terribly ex-
haustive of energy. 1t leaves us impa-
tient, breathless, in perpetual trepida-
ton. Our handwriting, like our speech,
suffers thereby and betrays us. Let us