t of two utterances
made with style, the one may be more imbued with that quality than is
the other; but even this secondary distinction is a matter of more and
less, rather than of better and worse. Style, then, is a quality
possessed in a greater or less degree, or else not possessed at all.
This much being granted, we may investigate with clearer minds the
philosophic aspect of the subject.

=The Twofold Appeal of Language.=--Language makes to the mind of the
reader or the listener an appeal which is twofold. First, it conveys
to his intellect a definite meaning through the content of the words
that are employed; and secondly, it conveys to his sensibilities an
indefinite suggestion through their sound. Consciously, he receives a
meaning from the denotation of the words; subconsciously, he receives
a suggestion from their connotation. Now, an utterance has the quality
of style when these two appeals of language--the denotative and the
connotative, the definite and the indefinite, the intellectual and the
sensuous--are so cooerdinated as to produce upon the reader or the
listener an effect which is, not dual, but indissolubly single. And an
utterance is devoid of the quality of style when, although it conveys
a meaning to the intellect through the content of the words, it does
not reinforce that conveyance of meaning by a cognate and harmonic
appeal to the senses through their sound. In the latter case the
language produces upon the recipient an effect which is, not single,
but dual and divorced.

=Concrete Examples.=--The matter may be made more clear by the
examination of concrete examples. The following sentence, for
instance, is devoid of style: "The square on the hypothenuse of a
right-angled triangle is equal to the sum of the squares on the other
two sides": for, although by its content it conveys to the intellect a
meaning which is entirely clear and absolutely definite, it does not
by its sound convey to the senses a suggestion which is cognate. But,
on the other hand, the following lines from Tennyson's "The Princess"
are rich in style, because the appeals to the intellect and to the ear
are so cooerdinated as to produce a single simultaneous effect:--

"Myriads of rivulets hurrying thro' the lawn,
The moan of doves in immemorial elms,
And murmuring of innumerable bees."

In these lines, fully as much is conveyed to the reader by the mere
melody of m's and r's and l's as by