What, then, is your first task?  Somebody has laid down the injunction—­ and, as always when anything is enjoined, others have given it currency—­ that each day you should learn two new words.  So be it,—­but which two?  The first two in the dictionary, or hitherto left untouched in your systematic conquest of the dictionary?  The first two you hear spoken?  The first two that stare at you from casual, everyday print?  The first two you can ferret from some technical jargon, some special department of human interest or endeavor?  In any of these ways you may obey the behest of these mentors.  But are not such ways arbitrary, haphazard?  And suppose, after doing your daily stint, you should encounter a word it behooves you to know.  What then?  Are you to sulk, to withhold yourself from further exertion on the plea of a vocabulary-builder’s eight-hour day?

To adopt any of the methods designated would be like resolving to invest in city lots and then buying properties as you encountered them, with no regard for expenditure, for value in general, or for special serviceability to you.  Surely such procedure would be unbusinesslike.  If you pay out good money, you meditate well whether that which you receive for it shall compensate you.  Likewise if you devote time and effort to gaining ownership of words, you should exercise foresight in determining whether they will yield you commensurate returns.

What, then, is the principle upon which, at the outset, you should proceed?  What better than to insure the possession of the words regarding which you know this already, that you need them and should make them yours?

The Analysis of Your Own Vocabulary

The natural way, and the best, to begin is with an analysis of your own vocabulary.  You are of course aware that of the enormous number of words contained in the dictionary relatively few are at your beck and bidding.  But probably you have made no attempt to ascertain the nature and extent of your actual linguistic resources.  You should make an inventory of the stock on hand before sending in your order for additional goods.

You will speedily discover that your vocabulary embraces several distinct classes of words.  Of these the first consists of those words which you have at your tongue’s end—­which you can summon without effort and use in your daily speech.  They are old verbal friends.  Numbered with them, to be sure, there may be few with senses and connotations you are ignorant of—­ friends of yours, let us say, with a reservation.  Even these you may woo with a little care into uncurbed fraternal abandon.  With the exception of these few, you know the words of the first class so well that without thinking about it at all you may rely upon their giving you, the moment you need them, their untempered, uttermost service.  You need be at no further pains about them.  They are yours already.