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Style

by　Walter　Raleigh





Style；　the　Latin　name　for　an　iron　pen；　has　come　to　designate　the　art　that　handles；　with　ever　fresh　vitality　and　wary　alacrity；　the　fluid　elements　of　speech。　　By　a　figure；　obvious　enough；　which　yet　might　serve　for　an　epitome　of　literary　method；　the　most　rigid　and　simplest　of　instruments　has　lent　its　name　to　the　subtlest　and　most　flexible　of　arts。　　Thence　the　application　of　the　word　has　been　extended　to　arts　other　than　literature；　to　the　whole　range　of　the　activities　of　man。　　The　fact　that　we　use　the　word　〃style〃　in　speaking　of　architecture　and　sculpture；　painting　and　music；　dancing；　play…acting；　and　cricket；　that　we　can　apply　it　to　the　careful　achievements　of　the　housebreaker　and　the　poisoner；　and　to　the　spontaneous　animal　movements　of　the　limbs　of　man　or　beast；　is　the　noblest　of　unconscious　tributes　to　the　faculty　of　letters。　　The　pen；　scratching　on　wax　or　paper；　has　become　the　symbol　of　all　that　is　expressive；　all　that　is　intimate；　in　human　nature；　not　only　arms　and　arts；　but　man　himself；　has　yielded　to　it。　　His　living　voice；　with　its　undulations　and　inflexions；　assisted　by　the　mobile　play　of　feature　and　an　infinite　variety　of　bodily　gesture；　is　driven　to　borrow　dignity　from　the　same　metaphor；　the　orator　and　the　actor　are　fain　to　be　judged　by　style。　　〃It　is　most　true；〃　says　the　author　of　THE　ANATOMY　OF　MELANCHOLY；　〃STYLUS　VIRUM　ARGUIT；　our　style　bewrays　us。〃　　Other　gestures　shift　and　change　and　flit；　this　is　the　ultimate　and　enduring　revelation　of　personality。　　The　actor　and　the　orator　are　condemned　to　work　evanescent　effects　on　transitory　material；　the　dust　that　they　write　on　is　blown　about　their　graves。　The　sculptor　and　the　architect　deal　in　less　perishable　ware；　but　the　stuff　is　recalcitrant　and　stubborn；　and　will　not　take　the　impress　of　all　states　of　the　soul。　　Morals；　philosophy；　and　aesthetic；　mood　and　conviction；　creed　and　whim；　habit；　passion；　and　demonstration　…　what　art　but　the　art　of　literature　admits　the　entrance　of　all　these；　and　guards　them　from　the　suddenness　of　mortality？　　What　other　art　gives　scope　to　natures　and　dispositions　so　diverse；　and　to　tastes　so　contrarious？　　Euclid　and　Shelley；　Edmund　Spenser　and　Herbert　Spencer；　King　David　and　David　Hume；　are　all　followers　of　the　art　of　letters。

In　the　effort　to　explain　the　principles　of　an　art　so　bewildering　in　its　variety；　writers　on　style　have　gladly　availed　themselves　of　analogy　from　the　other　arts；　and　have　spoken；　for　the　most　part；　not　without　a　parable。　　It　is　a　pleasant　trick　they　put　upon　their　pupils；　whom　they　gladden　with　the　delusion　of　a　golden　age；　and　perfection　to　be　sought　backwards；　in　arts　less　complex。　　The　teacher　of　writing；　past　master　in　the　juggling　craft　of　language；　explains　that　he　is　only　carrying　into　letters　the　principles　of　counterpoint；　or　that　it　is　all　a　matter　of　colour　and　perspective；　or　that　structure　and　ornament　are　the　beginning　and　end　of　his　intent。　　Professor　of　eloquence　and　of　thieving；　his　winged　shoes　remark　him　as　he　skips　from　metaphor　to　metaphor；　not　daring　to　trust　himself　to　the　partial　and　frail　support　of　any　single　figure。　　He　lures　the　astonished　novice　through　as　many　trades　as　were　ever　housed　in　the　central　hall　of　the　world's　fair。　　From　his　distracting　account　of　the　business　it　would　appear　that　he　is　now　building　a　monument；　anon　he　is　painting　a　picture　（with　brushes　dipped　in　a　gallipot　made　of　an　earthquake）；　again　he　strikes　a　keynote；　weaves　a　pattern；　draws　a　wire；　drives　a　nail；　treads　a　measure；　sounds　a　trumpet；　or　hits　a　target；　or　skirmishes　around　his　subject；　or　lays　it　bare　with　a　dissecting　knife；　or　embalms　a　thought；　or　crucifies　an　enemy。　　What　is　he　really　doing　all　the　time？


Besides　the　artist　two　things　are　to　be　considered　in　every　art；　…　the　instrument　and　the　audience；　or；　to　deal　in　less　figured　phrase；　the　medium　and　the　public。　　From　both　of　these　the　artist；　if　he　would　find　freedom　for　the　exercise　of　all　his　powers；　must　sit　decently　aloof。　　It　is　the　misfortune　of　the　actor；　the　singer；　and　the　dancer；　that　their　bodies　are　their　sole　instruments。　　On　to　the　stage　of　their　activities　they　carry　the　heart　that　nourishes　them　and　the　lungs　wherewith　they　breathe；　so　that　the　soul；　to　escape　degradation；　must　seek　a　more　remote　and　difficult　privacy。　　That　immemorial　right　of　the　soul　to　make　the　body　its　home；　a　welcome　escape　from　publicity　and　a　refuge　for　sincerity；　must　be　largely　foregone　by　the　actor；　who　has　scant　liberty　to　decorate　and　administer　for　his　private　behoof　an　apartment　that　is　also　a　place　of　business。　　His　ownership　is　limited　by　the　necessities　of　his　trade；　when　the　customers　are　gone；　he　eats　and　sleeps　in　the　bar…parlour。　　Nor　is　the　instrument　of　his　performances　a　thing　of　his　choice；　the　poorest　skill　of　the　violinist　may　exercise　itself　upon　a　Stradivarius；　but　the　actor　is　reduced　to　fiddle　for　the　term　of　his　natural　life　upon　the　face　and　fingers　that　he　got　from　his　mother。　　The　serene　detachment　that　may　be　achieved　by　disciples　of　greater　arts　can　hardly　be　his；　applause　touches　his　personal　pride　too　nearly；　the　mocking　echoes　of　derision　infest　the　solitude　of　his　retired　imagination。　In　none　of　the　world's　great　polities　has　the　practice　of　this　art　been　found　consistent　with　noble　rank　or　honourable　estate。　Christianity　might　be　expected　to　spare　some　sympathy　for　a　calling　that　offers　prizes　to　abandonment　and　self…immolation；　but　her　eye　is　fixed　on　a　more　distant　mark　than　the　pleasure　of　the　populace；　and；　as　in　gladiatorial　Rome　of　old；　her　best　efforts　have　been　used　to　stop　the　games。　　Society；　on　the　other　hand；　preoccupied　with　the　art　of　life；　has　no　warmer　gift　than　patronage　for　those　whose　skill　and　energy　exhaust　themselves　on　the　mimicry　of　life。　The　reward　of　social　consideration　is　refused；　it　is　true；　to　all　artists；　or　accepted　by　them　at　their　immediate　peril。　　By　a　natural　adjustment；　in　countries　where　the　artist　has　sought　and　attained　a　certain　modest　social　elevation；　the　issue　has　been　changed；　and　the　architect　or　painter；　when　his　health　is　proposed；　finds　himself；　sorely　against　the　grain；　returning　thanks　for　the　employer　of　labour；　the　genial　host；　the　faithful　husband；　the　tender　father；　and　other　pillars　of　society。　　The　risk　of　too　great　familiarity　with　an　audience　which　insists　on　honouring　the　artist　irrelevantly；　at　the　expense　of　the　art；　must　be　run　by　all；　a　more　clinging　evil　besets　the　actor；　in　that　he　can　at　no　time　wholly　escape　from　his　phantasmal　second　self。　　On　this　creature　of　his　art　he　has　lavished　the　last　doit　of　human　capacity　for　expression；　with　what　bearing　shall　he　face　the　exacting　realities　of　life？　Devotion　to　his　profession　has　beggared　him　of　his　personality；　ague；　old　age　and　poverty；　love　and　death；　find　in　him　an　entertainer　who　plies　them　with　a　feeble　repetition　of　the　triumphs　formerly　prepared　for　a　larger　and　less　imperious　audience。　　The　very　journalist　…　though　he；　too；　when　his　profession　takes　him　by　the　throat；　may　expound　himself　to　his　wife　in　phrases　stolen　from　his　own　leaders　…　is　a　miracle　of　detachment　in　comparison；　he　has　not　put　his　laughter　to　sale。　　It　is　well　for　the　soul's　health　of　the　artist　that　a　definite　boundary　should　separate　his　garden　from　his　farm；　so　that　when　he　escapes　from　the　conventions　that　rule　his　work　he　may　be　free　to　recreate　himself。　　But　where　shall　the　weary　player　keep　holiday？　　Is　not　all　the　world　a　stage？

Whatever　the　chosen　instrument　of　an　art　may　be；　its　appeal　to　those　whose　attention　it　bespeaks　must　be　made　through　the　senses。　Music；　which　works　with　the　vibrations　of　a　material　substance；　makes　this　appeal　through　the　ear；　painting　through　the　eye；　it　is　of　a　piece　with　the　complexity　of　the　literary　art　that　it　employs　both　channels；　…　as　it　might　seem　to　a　careless　apprehension；　indifferently。

For　the　writer's　pianoforte　is　the　dictionary；　words　are　the　material　in　which　he　works；　and　words　may　either　strike　the　ear　or　be　gathered　by　the　eye　from　the　printed　page。　　The　alternative　will　be　called　delusive；　for；　in　European　literature　at　least；　there　is　no　word…symbol　that　does　not　imply　a　spoken　sound；　and　no　excellence　without　euphony。　　But　the　other　way　is　possible；　the　gulf　between　mind　and　mind　may　be　bridged　by　something　which　has　a　right　to　the　name　of　literature　although　it　exacts　no　aid　from　the　ear。　　The　picture…writing　of　the　Indians；　the　hieroglyphs　of　Egypt；　may　be　cited　as　examples　of　literary　meaning　conveyed　with　no　implicit　help　from　the　spoken　word。　　Such　an　art；　were　it　capable　of　high　development；　would　forsake　the　kinship　of　melody；　and　depend　for　its　sensual　elements　of　delight　on　the　laws　of　decorative　pattern。　　In　a　land　of　deaf…mutes　it　might　come　to　a　measure　of　perfection。　　But　where　human　intercourse　is　chiefly　by　speech；　its　connexion　with　the　interests　and　passions　of　daily　life　would　perforce　be　of　the　feeblest；　it　would　tend　more　and　more　to　cast　off　the　fetters　of　meaning　that　it　might　do　freer　service　to　the　jealous　god　of　visible　beauty。　　The　overpowering　rivalry　of　speech　would　rob　it　of　all　its　symbolic　intent　and　leave　its　bare　picture。　　Literature　has　favoured　rather　the　way　of　the　ear　and　has　given　itself　zealously　to　t