attained through structure alone,
unity of mood is dependent mainly upon style. The language should
be pitched throughout in tune with the emotional significance of the
narrative effect to be produced. Any sentence which is tuned out
of harmony will jangle and disrupt the unity of mood, which is as
necessary to a great short-story as it is to a great lyric poem.
Hawthorne, though his structure was frequently at fault, proved the
greatness of his art by maintaining, through sheer mastery of style,
an absolute unity of mood in every story that he undertook. Mr.
Kipling has not always done so, because he has frequently used
language more with manner than with style; but in his best stories,
like "The Brushwood Boy" and "They," there is a unity of tone
throughout the writing that sets them on the plane of highest art.

CHAPTER XII

THE FACTOR OF STYLE

The element of style, which has just been touched upon in reference
to the short-story, must now be considered in its broader aspect as
a factor of fiction in general. Hitherto, in examining the methods of
fiction, we have confined our attention for the most part to the study
of structural expedients. The reason is that structure, being a
matter merely of the intellect, can be analyzed clearly and expounded
definitely. Like any other intellectual subject--geometry, for
instance--structure may be taught. But style, although it is in
fiction a factor scarcely less important, is not a matter merely of
the intellect. It is not so easily permissible of clear analysis and
definite exposition; and although it is true that, in a certain sense,
it may be learned, it is also true that it cannot be taught.

The word "style" comes trippingly to the tongue of every critic; but
it has never yet been satisfactorily defined. Famous phrases have been
made about it, to be sure; but most of these, like that corrupted
from Buffon's cursory remark in his discourse of reception into the
Academy--"_Le style est de l'homme meme_,"--are lofty admissions of
the impossibility of definition. By this fact we are fortified in our
opinion that style is a matter of feeling rather than of intellect.
Avoiding, therefore, as unwise any attempt at definition, we may yet
succeed in clarifying our ideas regarding style if we circle round the
subject.

At the outset, in order to narrow the compass of the circle, let
us admit that the familiar phrase "bad style" is a contradiction of
terms. Basically