XII.
ENGLISH STYLE.
But there still remains for all of us the reading of the English Bible, with the aids of interpretation which render it intelligible for a practical purpose, and in so far as it is an expression of the natural moral law. This of itself contributes very largely to the perfection of our use of the mother tongue. For it is always true of this sacred book, as Dryden says, that in
"... Style, majestic and divine,
It speaks no less than God in every line;
Commanding words! whose force is still the same
As the first fiat that produced our frame."
(Dryden, Relig. Laic., i. 152.)
Yes, its frequent reading helps much to the formation of good English. This is not simply fancy, but the verdict of those who have experienced and proved the benefit of frequent use of the Bible as a means of fashioning and improving a beautiful style of English writing. Some years ago Mr. Bainton, a lover of English literature, requested the best of living writers to give their opinion as to what class of reading had most contributed to their attaining the elegance or force of beauty for which their writings were generally admired. To the surprise of many it appeared in the answers that the reading of the Bible was considered the secret of a charming style, even by authors who wrote in that lighter, sparkling vein which seems so remote from the gravity and solidity of the sacred books. To give one example of this let me quote the words of Mr. W. S. Gilbert, the author of the delightful "Bab Ballads," and a long series of light operas and sparkling plays. After referring to the advantage of studying the English of the late Tudor and early Stuart periods, he adds: "But for simplicity, directness, and perspicuity, there is, in my opinion, no existing work to be compared with the historical books of the Bible."
Mr. Marion Crawford, much read of late, and criticized for fostering a faulty ideal, but whose vigorous expression, power of analysis, and correct delineation of character will hardly be denied by any one capable of judging, gives his ideas of attaining to good English style in the following words: "The greatest literary production in our language is the translation of the Bible, and the more a man reads it the better he will write English." He adds: "I am not a particularly devout person, though I am a good Roman Catholic, and I do not recommend the Bible from any religious reason. I distinctly dislike the practice of learning texts without any regard to the context.... But if we were English Brahmans, and believed nothing contained therein, I should still maintain that the Bible should be the first study of a literary man. Then the great poets, Shakespeare, Milton," etc. I have quoted Mr. Crawford because he is not merely a good English writer, but a real scholar, familiar with many languages, classic and modern, and therefore all the better qualified to judge of our subject.
There are, of course, instances in the Bible when the grammatical rules of Brown and Murray forbid satisfactory parsing. The reason of this is the natural wish of the translators, anxious to preserve the literal form of the original, not to sacrifice accuracy to the nicety with which they might round their phrases. They were intent alone upon truth; and it is precisely in this element that eloquence finds its first and most powerful incentive. Beauty of language has two sources of inspiration. One is that of truth, which arouses in the heart a love lifting the mind with a burning enthusiasm into the regions of all that is fair and chaste and grand; and the language of him who has mastered it assumes the sound and form of these lofty emotions. There is indeed another source of inspiration. It is that from which emanates the brilliant but ephemeral beauty of the literature of the day. It is not love of unchanging truth, but the captivating passion of the hour, which, as someone has said, acts upon the brain "like the foaming grape of Eastern France—pleasant to the sense of taste, yet sending its subtle fumes to the brain, and stealing away the judgment." Truth in literature possesses a power of eloquence of which fiction is but a shadow at best, varying in size, and dwarfed or magnified in proportion as it approaches and recedes from the object which occasions it.