92 STYLE AND THE MAN 



of human life. His scenes fill the stage of history, 

 his personages seem adequate to great events, and 

 the whole story has a certain historic grandeur and 

 impressiveness. There is no mistaking a great force, 

 a great body, in literature any more than there is in 

 the physical world; in Scott we have come upon a 

 great river, a great lake, a great mountain, and we 

 are more impressed by it than by the lesser bodies, 

 though they have many more graces and pretti- 

 nesses. 



Frederic Harrison, in a recent address on style, is 

 cautious in recommending the young writer to take 

 thought of his style. Let him rather take thought 

 of what he has to say; in turning his ideal values 

 into the coin of current speech he will have an ex- 

 ercise in style. If he has no ideal values, then is lit- 

 erature barred to him. Let him cultivate his sen- 

 sibilities ; make himself, if possible, more quickly 

 responsive to life and nature about him ; let him try 

 to see more clearly and feel more keenly, and con- 

 nect his vocabulary with his most radical and spon- 

 taneous self. Style can never come from the outside, 

 — from consciously seeking it by imitating the 

 manner of favorite authors. It comes, if at all, like 

 the bloom upon fruit, or the glow of health upon 

 the cheek, from an inner essential harmony and 

 felicity. 



In a well-known passage Macaulay tells what 

 happened to Miss Burney when she began to think 



