No one has ever improved upon the advice of Quintilian, the ancient Roman critic: "Care should be taken, not that the hearer may understand, but that he must understand, whether he will or not." This rule is as good for writers as it is for speakers; and it is particularly excellent for those who attempt to present sacred truth to a reading audience. For when we attempt a religious theme, we place before men often before many thousands of them that which may be a "savor of life unto life." Souls may be saved if they understand and accept our message; or they may be lost if, failing to understand it, they are unable to accept it.
Muddiness of thought and diction occurs too often in denominational writing. An excellent way to clear it up is to read over one's production, all the while keeping Quintilian's rule in mind. Ask yourself, not, "May my readers understand this?" nor, "Can they fathom my meaning?" but, "Must my readers understand this? Is the language so clear that, like purest crystal, it interposes no hindrance to the perception of that which it is intended to reveal?" Make your thought clear; your reader has a right to expect that you will. Revise and revise, if you find it necessary, until no one
can help knowing just what your message is.
Accuracy is essential in all writing to be placed before the public. Verification is a laborious but necessary work, and its whole burden should not fall upon the proof readers. If in an
article on the prophecies, you refer to "the Canon of Ptolemy," do not" assume that because so many of the Egyptian kings bore this name, therefore this canon derives its title from
that dynasty. In reality the Ptolemaic line was extinct years before the Canon of Ptolemy was devised; and the canon took its name from a person who was not a king. Of, if you use a more forceful quotation from the book of Job, do not write, "Job says," unless you are sure that Job really did say that which you are putting into his mouth. Someone else may have said it, Bildad or Zophar or Elihu, for instance. Your error may be entirely innocent, yet innocence will not justify you in the eyes of critical readers. They proceed upon the maxim, "False in one thing, false in all." No matter whether your misstatement is relevant or irrelevant; regardless of how little it has to do with the truth which you are trying to make clear, your readers, justly or otherwise, will hold your inaccuracy against you. You were wrong in that thing, they reason, and therefore you are probably wrong in this. Such logic may be poor; but since ninety out of a hundred readers consciously or unconsciously follow it, those who write must not scorn it.
And if you wish to be unusually accommodating in the matter of accuracy, attach to each of your articles a sheet of paper telling where each of your quotations and statements of fact may be verified, references, for example, to the World Almanac, the Encyclopedia Britannica, the Source Book, or the date and name of newspaper, if your authority is the daily press. Such a reference sheet, though it is not a necessity, is certainly a help; it will please the editor and delight the proof readers, who have plenty to do without playing detective in running down coy quotations. If a writing is clear and accurate, we may come to a final test: Is it interesting? How earnestly worldly men labor to express worthless ideas! Take for example Corneille's "Le Cid." The plot is unedifying, the action absurd. Yet so grand is the language, so intense and meaningful the expression of thought, that the work has become a classic, and survives to our own day.
If so much work can be bestowed on that which is trivial, in order to make it attractive, how much labor should the Christian expend in presenting the truth of God! If men use incredible labor in explaining the thoughts of the flesh, how much pains should those take who attempt to expound spiritual themes! For one's lines may become a channel through which the Holy Spirit can pass to hearts. How shameful to offer to Him a channel twisted, inexact, muddied by carelessness, or rusted with neglect!
As Christian workers, let us take the position that nothing is too good for the truth of God. No care in presenting proofs, no toil in verifying statistics, no labor in making our meaning impressive, no energy in urging the truth upon the attention of lost men, can be excessive. The careless sermon, the sloppily prepared article, belie the greatness of the gospel they attempt to convey. But words spoken or lines written earnestly, carefully, sincerely, and under the conviction of the Holy Spirit, will lead men to their Saviour.
Mountain View, Calif.
