as a pretty woman who had nothing behind her prettiness.
It would not live. One may remark in this connection how the merely
verbal felicities of Tennyson have lost our esteem. Who will
now proclaim the *Idylls of the King* as a masterpiece?
Of the thousands of lines written by him which please the ear,
only those survive of which the matter is charged with emotion.
No! As regards the man who professes to read an author
"for his style alone," I am inclined to think either that he will
soon get sick of that author, or that he is deceiving himself
and means the author's general temperament--not the author's
verbal style, but a peculiar quality which runs through
all the matter written by the author. Just as one may like
a man for something which is always coming out of him,
which one cannot define, and which is of the very essence of the man.


In judging the style of an author, you must employ the same canons
as you use in judging men. If you do this you will not be tempted
to attach importance to trifles that are negligible. There can be
no lasting friendship without respect. If an author's style is such
that you cannot *respect* it, then you may be sure that,
despite any present pleasure which you may obtain from that author,
there is something wrong with his matter, and that the pleasure
will soon cloy. You must examine your sentiments towards an author.
If when you have read an author you are pleased, without being conscious
of aught but his mellifluousness, just conceive what your feelings would be
after spending a month's holiday with a merely mellifluous man.
If an author's style has pleased you, but done nothing except
make you giggle, then reflect upon the ultimate tediousness
of the man who can do nothing but jest. On the other hand,