98 STYLE AND THE MAN 



the hands of the master is as transparent. Some of 

 the more recent British poets affect the archaic, the 

 quaint, the eccentric, in language, so that one's at- 

 tention is almost entirely occupied with their words. 

 Reading them is like trying to look through a pair 

 of spectacles too old or too young for you, or with 

 lenses of different focus. 



But has not style a value in and of itself ? As in 

 the case of light, its value is in the revelation it 

 makes. Its value is to conceal itself, to lose itself in 

 the matter. If humility, or self-denial, or any of the 

 virtues becomes conscious of itself and claims credit 

 for its own sake, does it not that moment fall from 

 grace ? What incomparable style in the passage I 

 have quoted from Whitman when we come to think 

 of it, but how it effaces itself and is of no account 

 for the sake of the idea it serves! The more a 

 writer's style humbles itself, the more it is exalted. 

 There is nothing true in religion that is not equally 

 true in art. Give yourself entirely. All selfish and 

 secondary ends are of the devil. Our Calvinistic 

 grandfathers, who fancied themselves willing to be 

 damned for the glory of God, illustrate the devotion 

 of the true artist to his ideal. " Consider the lilies 

 of the field, . . . they toil not, neither do they 

 spin." The style of the born poet or artist takes 

 as little thought of itself, and is the spontaneous 

 expression of the same indwelling grace and neces- 

 sity. 



