[...] Lack of Skill in the Art of Expression.—Let strict attention be paid to the lengthy narrative of any one in unstudied conversation, and, unless he be skilled more than common in the art of expression, it will be found that his sentences tend to get confused one with another. The less cultivated is a speaker, the more is the confusion of his speech. Throughout whole pages of scullery scandal and parlor gossip it is often hard to tell where one sentence leaves off and another begins. When Saul (a remarkably strapping young man) inquires of some maidens drawing water whether Samuel is in the city their simple answer is: “He is behold he is before you make haste now for he came to-day to the city for there is a sacrifice of the people to-day in the high place as soon as you come into the city”, and so on and on and on without break or comma, except such as the reader interpolates. Similarly, when Lady Capulet says to the nurse that Juliet is not fourteen, her uncalled-for reply is a history of many more words than there are days in the year, all tumbled out helter-skelter, without a pause. The punctuation, as even the simplest reader does not fail to perceive, is not the nurse’s, but only later on intercalated by Shakespeare himself, in his editorial capacity, for the sake of the reader’s easier apprehension. The conversation of Mrs. Quickly of Eastcheap, as of Mrs. Nickleby of our times, exhibits equal literary art.

Even among practiced speakers, a lengthy speech, whereof each sentence stands out clear and distinct from its neighbors, is rare. The speeches of most members of Congress or of Parliament have to go through a considerable amount of dressing before being read in the morning papers.

The first (unassisted) letter of any boy or girl shows more or less interminability and confusion of structure. Young writers, on first trying their hand at their Mutual Improvement Society or Debating Club, are disposed to flourish long sentences. It is not enough to put one simple statement, or one principal and one subordinate statement, into one sentence. On the contrary, after making one statement, the are prone to support it with another on, or two, or more, and the, perhaps, tack on some modifying statement, and then, again, perhaps, a modification of that modification; all crowded uncomfortably into one obscure and confused sentence.

Distribution of Matter in Sentences.—As a rule, thoughts do not present themselves singly, but rather in a crowd; and it needs so much more command of one’s thought to disentangle them and rank them in order than tumble them out in a medley just as they happen to come. The easy distribution of matter into handy sentences requires ready command of the matter and much practice in writing. […]