STYLE
+39. Definition.+ _Style_ means an author's mode of expression. It is
not, as is sometimes supposed, an artificial trick, but a genuine
expression of the mind and character. Buffon had the right idea when he
said, "The style is the man." It derives its leading characteristics
from the intellect, culture, and character of the writer. A man of
independent force and integrity gives natural expression to his
personality. His style reveals his mental and moral qualities. Only
weaklings, who are afraid to be natural and who are destitute of
substantial worth, become conscious imitators or affect artificial
peculiarities.
We have already considered style as related to _diction_, _different
kinds of sentences_, and _figures of speech_. It remains to consider it,
first, in relation to the various kinds of discourse, and, secondly, to
the generic types of mind.
+40. Kinds of Discourse.+ There are four generic kinds of discourse,
namely, _description_, _narration_, _exposition_, and _argument_. Though
frequently united in the same work, or even in the same paragraph, they
are yet clearly distinguishable. Each has a well-defined purpose and
method, to which the mode of expression is naturally bent or adapted.
The result is what may be called a descriptive, narrative, expository,
or argumentative style. These different kinds of discourse will now be
considered and illustrated in greater detail.
(1) _Description_ is the portrayal of an object by means of language.
The object described may belong either to the material or the spiritual
world. It may be a single flower, a landscape, or a stellar system. The
purpose of description is to enable the reader to reproduce the scene,
object, or experience in his own imagination. In general there are two
kinds of description,--the objective and the subjective; but the laws of
both are the same. There must be a judicious selection and grouping of
the details, and their number must be so restricted as not to produce
confusion.
Objective description portrays objects as they exist in the external
world. It points out in succession their distinguishing features. Thus
we read in Wordsworth's "A Night Piece,"--
"The traveller looks up--the clouds are split
Asunder--and above his head he sees
The clear moon, and the glory of the heavens.
There, in a black-blue vault she sails along,
Followed by multitudes of stars, that, small
And sharp, and bright, along the dark abyss
Drive as she drives; how fast they wheel away,
Yet vanish not!--the wind is in the tree,
But they are silent;--still they roll along
Immeasurably distant; and the vault
Built round by those white clouds, enormous clouds."
Subjective description notes the effects produced by an external object
or scene on the mind and heart. The eye of the writer is turned inward
rather than outward; he brings before us the thoughts, feelings,
fancies that are started within his soul. Thus Browning speaks of music
in his early poem, "Pauline":
"For music (which is earnest of a heaven,
Seeing we know emotions strange by it,
Not else to be revealed) is as a voice,
A low voice calling fancy, as a friend,
To the green woods in the gay summer time;
And she fills all the way with dancing shapes
Which have made painters pale, and they go on,
While stars look at them and winds call to them,
As they leave life's path for the twilight world
Where the dead gather."
(2) _Narration_ is a recital of incidents or events in an orderly
sequence. It is closely related to description, with which it is
frequently joined in the same paragraph. The one is used to aid or
supplement the other. Like description, narration has its place in
nearly every form of composition; and in history, fiction, and epic
poetry it constitutes, perhaps, the body of discourse. The incidents
narrated should be selected according to their interest and importance;
they should usually be presented in their chronological order, and there
should be a perceptible and often a rapid movement toward a definite
end. In all artistic narration we find unity, proportion, and
completeness. The following extract from Addison's "Vision of Mirza"
will serve for illustration: "On the fifth day of the moon--which,
according to the custom of my forefathers, I always keep holy--after
having washed myself and offered up my morning devotions, I ascended the
high hills of Bagdat, in order to pass the rest of the day in
meditation and prayer. As I was here airing myself on the tops of the
mountains, I fell into a profound contemplation on the vanity of human
life; and, passing from one thought to another, 'Surely,' said I, 'man
is but a shadow, and life a dream.'"
(3) _Exposition_ explains the nature or meaning of things. The purpose
of description is to form a picture; of narration, to portray an event;
of exposition, to set forth the distinctive nature of an object or
conception. The methods of exposition are various. In the first place,
the distinguishing features of an object may be presented; and in this
case exposition partakes of the nature of description. In the second
place, an object or idea may be explained by pointing out its effects;
and in this case exposition partakes of the character of narration. In
the third place, we may explain or define an object or conception by
indicating its resemblance or its unlikeness to something else that is
known. But whatever method of exposition is adopted, it should be full
and definite enough to impart a clear idea of the thing explained. Every
text-book will furnish examples of exposition; the following is taken
from Hitchcock's "Geology": "A _volcano_ is an opening in the earth from
whence matter has been ejected by heat, in the form of lava, scoria, or
ashes. Usually the opening called the _crater_ is an inverted cone; and
around it there rises a mountain in the form of a cone, with its apex
truncated, produced by the elevation of the earth's crust and the
ejection of lava."
(4) _Argumentation_ is the process of establishing the truth or falsity
of a thing. The means it uses is called proof or evidence, and will be
considered more fully in a subsequent chapter treating of oratory. This
proof or evidence may be derived from principles originating in the
mind, in which case it is called _intuitive_; or it may be found in
external sources, in which case it is called _empirical_. The latter
includes, among other forms of proof, a statement of facts, a
consideration of the nature or circumstances of the case, the testimony
of eyewitnesses, and an appeal to authority or generally accepted
principles. When the argument is attended with an appeal to the feelings
and will, it is known as _persuasion_. In the following extract, note
the three facts adduced by Mark Antony to prove that Cæsar was not
ambitious.
"He was my friend, faithful and just to me:
But Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honorable man.
He hath brought many captives home to Rome,
Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill:
Did this in Cæsar seem ambitious?
When that the poor have cried, Cæsar hath wept:
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff.
* * * * *
You all did see that on the Lupercal
I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition?"
+41. Generic Differences of Mind.+ As we have just seen, style is
affected in a measure by the species of discourse. It is determined,
further, by the mental constitution of the writer, and varies according
to the dominance of particular faculties. We may distinguish four
generic types of mind, which are reflected in four fundamental
differences of style.
(1) When the logical faculties of the mind predominate, the style will
be simple, direct, and plain. It is apt to be dry. The following extract
from Locke's "Thoughts on Education" will serve for illustration: "I say
this, that, when you consider of the breeding of your son, and are
looking out for a schoolmaster, or a tutor, you would not have (as is
usual) Latin and logic only in your thoughts. Learning must be had, but
in the second place, as subservient only to greater qualities. Seek out
somebody that may know how discreetly to frame his manners; place him in
hands, where you may, as much as possible, secure his innocence, cherish
and nurse up the good, and gently correct and weed out any bad
inclinations, and settle in him good habits. This is the main point;
and, this being provided for, learning may be had into the bargain."
(2) Again, the imagination may predominate. In this case the writer is
continually leaving the main thought to bring in additional and
embellishing ideas, particularly if he is a man of wide experience or
great learning. The result is apt to be an elaborate or stately style.
Lowell's style is eminently characterized by a play of the imagination.
His essay on Spenser begins as follows: "Chaucer had been in his grave
one hundred and fifty years ere England had secreted choice material
enough for the making of another great poet. The nature of men living
together in societies, as of the individual man, seems to have its
periodic ebbs and floods, its oscillations between the ideal and the
matter-of-fact, so that the doubtful boundary line of shore between them
is in one generation a hard sandy actuality strewn only with such
remembrances of beauty as a dead sea-moss here and there, and in the
next is whelmed with those lacelike curves of ever-gaining,
ever-receding foam, and that dance of joyous spray which for a moment
catches and holds the sunshine."
When the imagination is ill-governed, and especially in the case of
inexperienced writers, the resulting style is apt to be florid or
bombastic. The following passage from Headley's "Sacred Mountains,"
connected with a description of the crucifixion, is imaginative
extravagance,--a vain, artificial effort at the sublime: "I know not but
all the radiant ranks on high, and even Gabriel himself, turned with the
deepest solicitude to the Father's face, to see if He was calm and
untroubled amid it all. I know not but His composed brow and serene
majesty were all that restrained Heaven from one universal shriek of
horror when they heard groans on Calvary--dying groans. I know not but
they thought God had given His glory to another, but one thing I _do_
know, that when they saw through the vast design, comprehended the
stupendous scene, the hills of God shook to a shout that never before
rang over their bright tops, and the crystal sea trembled to a song that
had never before stirred its bright depths, and the 'Glory to God in the
Highest' was a sevenfold chorus of hallelujahs and harping symphonies."
Thoughtful writers of refined taste are more reserved and reverent in
speaking of occurrences in the celestial world.
(3) Again, the sensibilities may be in the ascendant. There is then a
quick and full response to the beauties of nature and human life. The
style becomes warm, graphic, glowing, pictorial. Unless held in check
by intellectual culture, an excess of sensibility is likely to
degenerate into sentimentalism. When combined with judgment and
imagination, as in the case of Ruskin, an emotional temperament yields
admirable results. Take the following splendid passage from "Modern
Painters," descriptive of a sunrise in the Alps: "Wait for one hour,
until the east again becomes purple, and the heaving mountains, rolling
against the darkness, like waves of a wild sea, are drowned one by one
in the glory of its burning; watch the white glaciers blaze in their
winding paths about the mountains, like mighty serpents with scales of
fire; watch the columnar peaks of solitary snow, kindling downwards,
chasm by chasm, each in itself a new morning; their long avalanches cast
down in keen streams brighter than the lightning, sending each its
tribute of driven snow, like altar-smoke, up to the heaven; the
rose-light of their silent domes flushing that heaven about them and
above them, piercing with purer light through its purple lines of lifted
cloud, casting a new glory on every wreath as it passes by, until the
whole heaven--one scarlet canopy--is interwoven with a roof of waving
flame, and tossing, vault beyond vault, as with the drifted wings of
many companies of angels; and then, when you can look no more for
gladness, and when you are bowed down with fear and love of the Maker
and Doer of this, tell me who has best delivered this His message unto
men!"
(4) Once more, force of will, firmness of conviction, energy of
character are conducive to strength. Where these exist there will be
directness of aim, and the style will be clear, unwavering, and strong.
There will be positiveness of statement, and sometimes intolerant
dogmatism. Carlyle and Macaulay are among our strongest writers, the
former being rugged, and the latter more polished in his strength.
Macaulay's broad-shouldered, stout-limbed constitution is reflected in
such passages as the following from his essay on Lord Bacon: "The moral
qualities of Bacon were not of a high order. We do not say that he was a
bad man. He was not inhuman or tyrannical. He bore with meekness his
high civil honors, and the far higher honors gained by his intellect. He
was very seldom, if ever, provoked into treating any person with
malignity and insolence. No man more readily held up the left cheek to
those who had smitten the right. No man was more expert at the soft
answer which turneth away wrath. His faults were--we write it with
pain--coldness of heart and meanness of spirit. He seems to have been
incapable of feeling strong affection, of facing great dangers, of
making great sacrifices. His desires were set on things below. Wealth,
precedence, titles, patronage, the mace, the seals, the coronet, large
houses, fair gardens, rich manors, massive services of plate, gay
hangings, curious cabinets, had as great attractions for him as for any
of the courtiers who dropped on their knees in the dirt when Elizabeth
passed, and then hastened home to write to the King of Scots that her
Grace seemed to be breaking fast."
+42. Symmetrical Faculties.+ When the mental faculties are symmetrical
and harmonious in their operation, no particular feature of style may
stand out prominent. It will bend to suit the exigencies of the subject.
It will rise and sink with the varying thought and feeling. It will be
judicious, and at times commonplace. But if, at the same time, mental
symmetry is united with fineness of fiber and with adequate culture and
practice, the style will probably be, as in the case of Addison and
Irving, full of grace and elegance. Note the easy grace with which
Addison begins his first paper on the "Pleasures of the Imagination":
"Our sight is the most perfect and most delightful of all our senses. It
fills the mind with the largest variety of ideas, converses with its
objects at the greatest distance, and continues longest in action
without being tired or satiated with its proper enjoyments. The sense of
feeling can indeed give us a notion of extension, shape, and all other
ideas that enter at the eye, except colors; but at the same time it is
very much strained, and confined in its operations, to the number, bulk,
and distance of its particular objects. Our sight seems designed to
supply all these defects, and may be considered as a more delicate and
diffusive kind of touch, that spreads itself over an infinite multitude
of bodies, comprehends the largest figures, and brings into our reach
some of the most remote parts of the universe."
Every passing mood and every peculiarity of mind or character are
reflected in the style. It may be gay, humorous, serious, sad,
melancholy, according to the state of the writer's feelings. It may be
colloquial or stately, concise or diffuse, plain or florid, flowing or
abrupt, feeble or energetic, natural or affected, commonplace or
epigrammatic,--as varied, in fact, as the character and mental
constitution of the writers. But every writer has a prevailing style;
and it is an interesting study to determine the nature of his mind and
character from his works.
+43. Importance of Style.+ A good style is a matter of importance. The
success or failure of a literary work depends largely upon the manner in
which its statements are presented. The classic works of Greece and Rome
owe their popularity and influence not so much to the facts which they
contain as to the art with which their contents are given. Our most
popular English writings, especially in fiction and poetry, owe their
vogue, in no small degree, to some excellence or charm of style. It is
chiefly in history, science, and philosophy that the weight of fact and
thought may be in a measure independent of style. Darwin's "Origin of
Species" would be a great book even if its style were far more
uninteresting than is really the case.
REVIEW QUESTIONS
39. What is _style_? Whence does it derive its characteristics? What is
Buffon's remark? Who become imitators? 40. What four general kinds of
discourse are there? To what four kinds of style do they lead? What is
_description_? What is its purpose? What two kinds of description are
there? Illustrate. What is _narration_? How is it related to
description? Where is it dominant? How should its facts be presented?
What is necessary in artistic narration? Illustrate. What is
_exposition_? How does it differ from description and narration? What
three kinds of exposition are mentioned? What constitutes a good
exposition? Illustrate. What is _argumentation_? What means does it use?
What two kinds of proof are mentioned? What may constitute _empirical_
proof? Illustrate.
41. What further determines style? What four generic types of mind are
there? What is the result when the logical faculties are dominant? What
is the effect of a dominant imagination? What author is quoted in
illustration? When the imagination is ill-regulated, what is the result?
What illustration is given? What is the effect of strong sensibilities?
Into what may sentiment degenerate? What is the result when combined
with judgment and imagination? Who is quoted in illustration? What is
the effect of will power? Who are mentioned as strong writers?
42. What is said of symmetrical faculties? What will be the result when
united with delicacy and culture? Who are mentioned in illustration?
What may be reflected in style? What kinds of style thus result? Why has
every writer a distinctive style? 43. Why is a good style important? To
what do many writings, ancient and modern, owe their popularity?
ILLUSTRATIVE AND PRACTICAL EXERCISES
The following extracts should be carefully studied. The diction, forms
of sentences, and figures, as presented in the two preceding chapters,
may be investigated along with the further elements of style just
considered. Such questions as the following may be applied to the
selections:
What kind of discourse is it? Is it descriptive? Is
it objective or subjective? What points are
described? Is it narrative? Is it expository? By what
means is the elucidation made? Is it argumentative?
What kind of proof is used? Is the thought the chief
concern of the writer? Is the piece imaginative? Does
it abound in adjectives? Does it present pictures? Is
it stately and in full dress? What faculty
predominates? Does it glow with feeling? Does it
reach the point of sentimentalism? Does it show a
love of nature? of humanity? Do the emotions count
for more than the thought? Is it energetic or
vehement? Has the writer positive convictions? Is he
hesitating or dogmatic? Is it graceful or elegant?
Does it exhibit eccentricity or sanity? Is it smooth,
abrupt, laconic, epigrammatic, humorous, colloquial?
Are there other characteristics?
Long lines of cliff breaking have left a chasm;
And in the chasm are foam and yellow sands;
Beyond, red roofs about a narrow wharf
In cluster; then a mouldered church; and higher
A long street climbs to one tall-towered mill;
And high in heaven behind it a gray down
With Danish barrows; and a hazel-wood,
By autumn nutters haunted, flourishes
Green in a cuplike hollow of the down.--TENNYSON.
The Normans gave way. The English pressed forward. A cry went
forth among the Norman troops that Duke William was killed.
Duke William took off his helmet, in order that his face
might be distinctly seen, and rode along the line before his
men. This gave them courage. As they turned again to face the
English, some of the Norman horse divided the pursuing body of
the English from the rest, and thus all that foremost portion
of the English army fell, fighting bravely.--DICKENS.
Poetry of late has been termed a force, or mode of force, very
much as if it were the heat, or light, or motion known to
physics. And, in truth, ages before our era of scientific
reductions, the _energia_--the vital energy--of the minstrel's
song was undisputed. It seems to me, in spite of all we hear
about materialism, that the sentiment imparting this
energy--the poetic impulse, at least--has seldom been more
forceful than at this moment.
STEDMAN.
How inexhaustibly the spirit grows!
One object, she seemed erewhile born to reach
With her whole energies and die content,--
So like a wall at the world's edge it stood,
With nought beyond to live for,--is that reached?--
Already are new undreamed energies
Outgrowing under, and extending farther
To a new object; there's another world!--BROWNING.
I have heard that nothing gives an author so great pleasure as
to find his works respectfully quoted by other learned
authors. This pleasure I have seldom enjoyed; for though I
have been, if I may say it without vanity, an eminent author
(of almanacs) annually, now a full quarter of a century, my
brother authors in the same way (for what reason I know not)
have ever been very sparing in their applauses; and no other
author has taken the least notice of me: so that, did not my
writings produce me some solid pudding, the great deficiency
of praise would have quite discouraged me.--FRANKLIN.
Studies serve for delight, for ornament, and for ability.
Their chief use for delight is in privateness and retiring;
for ornament, is in discourse; and for ability, is in the
judgment and disposition of business; for expert men can
execute, and perhaps judge of particulars, one by one; but
the general counsels, and the plots and marshalling of
affairs, come best from those that are learned. To spend too
much time in studies, is sloth; to use them too much for
ornament, is affectation; to make judgment wholly by their
rules, is the humor of a scholar: they perfect nature, and are
perfected by experience; for natural abilities are like
natural plants, that need pruning by study; and studies
themselves do give forth directions too much at large except
they be bounded in by experience.--BACON.
We want the same glorious privileges which we enjoy to go down
to our children. We cannot sleep well the last sleep, nor will
the pillow of dust be easy to our heads until we are assured
that the God of our American institutions in the past, will be
the God of our American institutions in the days that are to
come. Oh, when all the rivers which empty into the Atlantic
and Pacific seas shall pull on factory bands, when all the
great mines of gold, and silver, and iron, and coal shall be
laid bare for the nation, when the last swamp shall be
reclaimed, and the last jungle cleared, and the last American
desert Edenized, and from sea to sea the continent shall be
occupied by more than twelve hundred million souls, may it be
found that moral and religious influences were multiplied in
more rapid ratio than the population. And then there shall be
four doxologies coming from north, and south, and east, and
west--four doxologies rolling toward each other and meeting
mid-continent with such dash of holy joy that they shall mount
to the throne.
TALMAGE.
Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife:
Come, hear the woodland linnet,
How sweet his music! on my life,
There's more of wisdom in it.
And hark! how blithe the throstle sings!
He, too, is no mean preacher;
Come forth into the light of things,
Let Nature be your teacher.--WORDSWORTH.
She is sensible of my sufferings. This morning her look
pierced to my very soul. I found her alone, and she was
silent; she steadfastly surveyed me. I no longer saw in her
face the charm of beauty or the fire of genius; these had
disappeared. But I was affected by an expression much more
touching, a look of the deepest sympathy and of the softest
pity. Why was I afraid to throw myself at her feet? Why did I
not dare to take her in my arms, and answer her by a thousand
kisses? She had recourse to her piano for relief, and in a low
and sweet voice accompanied the music with delicious sounds.
Her lips never appeared so lovely; they seemed but just to
open, that they might imbibe the sweet tones which issued from
the instrument, and return the heavenly vibration from her
lovely mouth. Oh! who can express my sensations? I was quite
overcome, and, bending down, pronounced this vow: "Beautiful
lips, which the angels guard, never will I seek to profane
your purity with a kiss."
GOETHE.
The only happiness a brave man ever troubled himself with
asking much about was happiness enough to get his work done.
Not "I can't eat!" but "I can't work!" that was the burden of
all wise complaining among men. It is, after all, the one
unhappiness of a man. That he cannot work; that he cannot get
his destiny as a man fulfilled. Behold, the day is passing
swiftly over, our life is passing swiftly over; and the night
cometh, wherein no man can work. The night once come, our
happiness, our unhappiness,--it is all abolished; vanished,
clean gone; a thing that has been: not of the slightest
consequence whether we were as happy as eupeptic Curtis, as
the fattest pig of Epicurus, or unhappy as Job with potsherds,
as musical Byron with Giaours and sensibilities of the heart.
But our work,--behold, that is not abolished, that has not
vanished: our work, behold, it remains, or the want of it
remains; for endless Times and Eternities, remains; and that
is now the sole question with us forevermore.--CARLYLE.
Among the powers in man which suffer by this too intense life
of the _social_ instincts, none suffers more than the power of
dreaming. Let no man think this a trifle. The machinery for
dreaming planted in the human brain was not planted for
nothing. That faculty, in alliance with the mystery of
darkness, is the one great tube through which man communicates
with the shadowy. And the dreaming organ, in connection with
the heart, the eye, and the ear, composes the magnificent
apparatus which forces the infinite into the chambers of a
human brain, and throws dark reflections from eternities below
all life upon the mirrors of the sleeping mind.--DE QUINCEY.
Thus with the year
Seasons return; but not to me returns
Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn
Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose,
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine;
But cloud instead and ever-during dark
Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men
Cut off, and, for the book of knowledge fair,
Presented with a universal blank
Of Nature's works, to me expunged and rased,
And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.
MILTON.
It happened one day, about noon, going towards my boat, I was
exceedingly surprised with the print of a man's naked foot on
the shore, which was very plain to be seen in the sand. I
stood like one thunder-struck, or as if I had seen an
apparition. I listened, I looked around me, I could hear
nothing, nor see anything. I went up to a rising ground to
look farther. I went up the shore, and down the shore, but it
was all one, I could see no other impressions but that one. I
went to it again to see if there were any more, and to observe
if it might not be my fancy; but there was no room for that,
for there was exactly the very print of a foot, toes, heel,
and every part of a foot. How it came thither I knew not, nor
could in the least imagine.--DEFOE.
NOTE
It would be well to apply the critical principles of this chapter, and
indeed of the entire Part Second, to some brief but complete work. For
this purpose the teacher might assign Macaulay's "Essay on Milton," De
Quincey's "Joan of Arc," Tennyson's "Enoch Arden," Webster's "First
Bunker Hill Oration," or some other similar work. After determining the
diction, prevailing type of sentences, and figures of speech, let the
student divide the work, as far as possible, into its descriptive,
narrative, expository, argumentative, and persuasive portions. In many
cases the various kinds of discourse will be so interwoven that the
classification will be doubtful and difficult. At the same time the
student might point out the passages in which thought, imagination,
feeling, or energy of will predominates in a marked degree. The effort
should be made accurately to characterize the author's style as a whole.
PART THIRD
KINDS OF LITERATURE