sians" is poor in its intellectual content, while it voices in the Bible story the ignorant fury of the populace. In the consciousness of this double aspect of the question Aristotle describes perfection of style as being clear without being mean. Now Saxon words tend to meanness and may, even on account of their simplicity, fall short of clearness. It is very obscure to say that an object is round, because round may mean circular, spherical, cylindrical, discoid, etc. Similarly Saxon words may be simple at the expense of clearness and precision. It seems perfectly natural that Spencer should find the language of the twelfth century inadequate to the needs of the twentieth. But even when clear, the Saxon, perhaps on account of its very familiarity, lacks the distinction that Aristotle recognizes as a requisite of perfect style. Choice of words is largely a matter of context, but magnificent may be preferable to grand or to the Saxon great on many grounds, among which its emotional suggestiveness should not be neglected. At any rate the attempt to hold university men of the twentieth century to the vocabulary of the subjugated portion of the population of England in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries is an absurdity that no theory of style can sanction, whether it lays emphasis on clearness, force or elegance.
More important than the mere choice of words in lending elevation and distinction to language is the use of figurative expressions. In the words of Aristotle "the greatest thing by far is to have a command of metaphor. This alone can not be imparted by another; it is the mark of genius—for to make good metaphors implies an eye for resemblances." Spencer similarly recognized that genius naturally tends to produce that style of composition which on analysis proves the most effective. The kinds of sentence which are theoretically best are those generally employed by superior minds, and by inferior minds when excitement has raised them.
When we regard the theory of style from the standpoint of recent psychology, a whole series of problems are seen to be involved—the nature of literary genius, association by similarity and its relation to the feelings, and connected with all these—and offering, perhaps, the best point of attack for our present purpose—the functioning of the creative imagination.
One might expect some light on the workings of the imagination from those who approach psychology from a pragmatist position and especially from such as treat the genetic and functional phases of psychology, particularly in view of the part played by the imagination in shaping our conduct—a part so great that we may be said to rehearse in imagination our vices and virtues before putting them into practise. In fact, the justification of recent psychologists in retaining the classifications and subdivisions of faculty psychology would seem to be the hope of confirming popular convictions in reference to mental science
