Page:Oregon Historical Quarterly volume 14.djvu/130

116 literature of the world. Time changed his purpose but it never altered, I am sure, a philosophy which was the foundation of his religious thought and the mechanism of what I may presume to call his conscious moral reflections.

Writing was not to Mr. Scott a natural gift. His propensity was to thought rather than to expression. He had nothing of the light and easy grace in the making of phrases which with many renders the operation of writing little more than pastime. Literally he forged his matter into form and if the form was always fine it was made so less by instinctive art than by unremitting labors. With many writers, especially those who combine experience with propensity, the very process of expression oftentimes inspires and shapes the thought. With Mr. Scott the thought always dominated the expression. I question if he ever wrote a careless sentence in his life. Every utterance was first considered carefully then—often very slowly—hammered into shape. He wrote always with his own hand and could never with satisfaction to himself employ the aid of an amanuensis. His style was a reflection of his mind. It was considered, clear, logical, complete and always pure. Of a certain species of whimsical slang he was a master in conversation; it made the substance of a playful humor, which was unfailing in all his freer talks. But when he set himself to write, his scholar's sense of propriety, his cleanminded regard for pure forms overcame the tendency to verbal flippancy so frequently and happily illustrated in his speech. In my own judgment Mr. Scott's written style lost something from this scrupulousness, from its unfailing dignity of phrase. I think his work would have gained buoyancy—a certain winged power—if he had been a less severe critic of himself, if his touch had been lighter and his critical instinct less exacting. When, as rarely happened, he could be induced to depart from his customary formality of expression, he had in it a kind of delight akin to the exhilaration of a naughty child over some pleasing smartness. I recall once when some rather ridiculous man had made a grandiloquent public declaration of heroic views, Mr. Scott remarked, "I don't know just