disposed of the problem of style so far as it can be disposed of.

But what do those people mean who say: "I read such and such an author
for the beauty of his style alone"? Personally, I do not clearly know
what they mean (and I have never been able to get them to explain),
unless they mean that they read for the beauty of sound alone.
When you read a book there are only three things of which
you may be conscious: (1) The significance of the words,
which is inseparably bound up with the thought. (2) The look
of the printed words on the page--I do not suppose that anybody reads
any author for the visual beauty of the words on the page.
(3) The sound of the words, either actually uttered or imagined
by the brain to be uttered. Now it is indubitable that words differ
in beauty of sound. To my mind one of the most beautiful words
in the English language is "pavement." Enunciate it, study its sound,
and see what you think. It is also indubitable that certain
combinations of words have a more beautiful sound than certain
other combinations. Thus Tennyson held that the most beautiful line
he ever wrote was:

The mellow ouzel fluting in the elm.

Perhaps, as sound, it was. Assuredly it makes a beautiful
succession of sounds, and recalls the bird-sounds which it is
intended to describe. But does it live in the memory
as one of the rare great Tennysonian lines? It does not.
It has charm, but the charm is merely curious or pretty.
A whole poem composed of lines with no better recommendation
than that line has would remain merely curious or pretty.
It would not permanently interest. It would be as insipid