I cannot agree with Mr. H. S. Salt when, in the course of a clever and
interesting biographical study of De Quincey, {40} he says: "It (in _re_
style) conveys precisely the sense that is intended, and attains its
effect far less by rhetorical artifice than by an almost faultless
instinct in the choice and use of words."
In the delineation of certain moods he is supremely excellent. But
surely the style is not a plastic style; and its appeal to the ear rather
than to the pictorial faculty limits its emotional effect upon the
reader. Images pass before his eyes, and he tries to depict them by
cunningly devised phrases; but the veil of phantasy through which he sees
those images has blurred their outline and dimmed their colouring. The
phrase arrests by its musical cadences, by its solemn, mournful music.
Even some of his most admirable pieces--the dream fugues, leave the
reader dissatisfied, when they touch poignant realities like sorrow.
Despite its many beauties, that dream fugue, "Our Ladies of Sorrow,"
seems too misty, too ethereal in texture for the intense actuality of the
subject. Compare some of its passages with passages from another
prose-poet, Oscar Wilde, where no veil of phantasy comes between the
percipient and the thing perceived, and it will be strange if the reader
does not feel that the later writer has a finer instinct for the choice
and use of words.
It would be untrue to say that Wilde's instinct was faultless. A garish
artificiality spoils much of his work; but this was through wilful
perversity. Even in his earlier work--in that wonderful book, _Dorian
Gray_, he realized the compelling charm of simplicity in style. His
fairy stories, _The Happy Prince_, for instance, are little masterpieces
of simple, restrained writing, and in the last things that came from his
pen there is a growing appreciation of the value of simplicity.
De Quincey never realized this; he recognized one form of art--the
decorative. And although he became a master of that form, it was
inevitable that at times this mode of art should fail in its effect.