Fifteen Thousand Useful Phrases | Page 4

who at some
time or another has not sprung "meticulous" upon him? Another example is afforded by
the endemic use of "of sorts" which struck London while the writer was in that city a few
years ago. Whence it came no one knew, but it was heard on every side. "She was a
woman of sorts;" "he is a Tory of sorts;" "he had a religion of sorts;" "he was a critic of
sorts." While it originally meant "of different or various kinds," as hats of sorts; offices of
sorts; cheeses of sorts, etc., it is now used disparagingly, and implies something of a kind
that is not satisfactory, or of a character that is rather poor. This, as Shakespeare might
have said, is "Sodden business! There's a stewed phrase indeed!" [Footnote: Troilus and
Cressida, act iii, sc. 1.]
The abuse of phrases and the misuse of words rife among us can be checked by diligent
exercises in good English, such as this book provides. These exercises, in conjunction
with others to be found in different volumes by the same author, will serve to correct
careless diction and slovenly speech, and lead to the art of speaking and writing correctly;

for, after all, accuracy in the use of words is more a matter of habit than of theory, and
once it is acquired it becomes just as easy to speak or to write good English as bad
English. It was Chesterfield's resolution not to speak a word in conversation which was
not the fittest he could recall. All persons should avoid using words whose meanings they
do not know, and with the correct application of which they are unfamiliar. The best
spoken and the best written English is that which conforms to the language as used by
men and women of culture--a high standard, it is true, but one not so high that it is
unattainable by any earnest student of the English tongue. FRANK H. VIZETELLY.

HOW TO USE THIS BOOK
The study of words, phrases, and literary expressions is a highly interesting pursuit. There
is a reciprocal influence between thought and language. What we think molds the words
we use, and the words we use react upon our thoughts. Hence a study of words is a study
of ideas, and a stimulant to deep and original thinking.
We should not, however, study "sparkling words and sonorous phrases" with the object
of introducing them consciously into our speech. To do so would inevitably lead to
stiltedness and superficiality. Words and phrases should be studied as symbols of ideas,
and as we become thoroughly familiar with them they will play an unconscious but
effective part in our daily expression.
We acquire our vocabulary largely from our reading and our personal associates. The
words we use are an unmistakable indication of our thought habits, tastes, ideals, and
interests in life. In like manner, the habitual language of a people is a barometer of their
intellectual, civil, moral, and spiritual ideals. A great and noble people express
themselves in great and noble words.
Ruskin earnestly counsels us to form the habit of looking intensely at words. We should
scrutinize them closely and endeavor to grasp their innermost meaning. There is an
indefinable satisfaction in knowing how to choose and use words with accuracy and
precision. As Fox once said, "I am never at a loss for a word, but Pitt always has the
word."
All the great writers and orators have been diligent students of words. Demosthenes and
Cicero were indefatigable in their study of language. Shakespeare, "infinite in faculty,"
took infinite pains to embody his thought in words of crystal clearness. Coleridge once
said of him that one might as well try to dislodge a brick from a building with one's
forefinger as to omit a single word from one of his finest passages.
Milton, master of majestic prose, under whose touch words became as living things;
Flaubert, who believed there was one and one only best word with which to express a
given thought; De Quincey, who exercised a weird-like power over words; Ruskin,
whose rhythmic prose enchanted the ear; Keats, who brooded over phrases like a lover;
Newman, of pure and melodious style; Stevenson, forever in quest of the scrupulously
precise word; Tennyson, graceful and exquisite as the limpid stream; Emerson, of

trenchant and epigrammatic style; Webster, whose virile words sometimes weighed a
pound; and Lincoln, of simple, Saxon speech,--all these illustrious men were assiduous in
their study of words.
Many persons of good education unconsciously circumscribe themselves within a small
vocabulary. They have a knowledge of hundreds of desirable words which they do not
put into practical use in their speech or writing. Many, too, are conscious of a poverty of
language, which engenders in them a sense of