Well, when you "know
what you think," you succeed in saying what you think, in making
yourself understood. When you "don't know what to think,"
your expressive tongue halts. And note how in daily life the
characteristics of your style follow your mood; how tender it is when
you are tender, how violent when you are violent. You have said to
yourself in moments of emotion: "If only I could write--," etc. You
were wrong. You ought to have said: "If only I could _think_--on this
high plane." When you have thought clearly you have never had any
difficulty in saying what you thought, though you may occasionally
have had some difficulty in keeping it to yourself. And when you
cannot express yourself, depend upon it that you have nothing precise
to express, and that what incommodes you is not the vain desire to
express, but the vain desire to _think_ more clearly. All this just to
illustrate how style and matter are co-existent, and inseparable, and
alike.
You cannot have good matter with bad style. Examine the point more
closely. A man wishes to convey a fine idea to you. He employs a form
of words. That form of words is his style. Having read, you say: "Yes,
this idea is fine." The writer has therefore achieved his end.
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