|
|
|
Prev
| Next
| Contents
ON POLISH. [Footnote: 1865]
By Polish I mean a certain well-known and immediately recognizable
condition of surface. But I must request my reader to consider well what
this condition really is. For the definition of it appears to us to be,
that condition of surface which allows the inner structure of the
material to manifest itself. Polish is, as it were, a translucent skin,
in which the life of the inorganic comes to the surface, as in the
animal skin the animal life. Once clothed in this, the inner glories of
the marble rock, of the jasper, of the porphyry, leave the darkness
behind, and glow into the day. From the heart of the agate the mossy
landscape comes dreaming out. From the depth of the green chrysolite
looks up the eye of its gold. The "goings on of life" hidden for ages
under the rough bark of the patient forest-trees, are brought to light;
the rings of lovely shadow which the creature went on making in the
dark, as the oyster its opaline laminations, and its tree-pearls of
beautiful knots, where a beneficent disease has broken the geometrical
perfection of its structure, gloom out in their infinite variousness.
Nor are the revelations of polish confined to things having variety in
their internal construction; they operate equally in things of
homogeneous structure. It is the polished ebony or jet which gives the
true blank, the material darkness. It is the polished steel that shines
keen and remorseless and cold, like that human justice whose symbol it
is. And in the polished diamond the distinctive purity is most evident;
while from it, I presume, will the light absorbed from the sun gleam
forth on the dark most plentifully.
But the mere fact that the end of polish is revelation, can hardly be
worth setting forth except for some ulterior object, some further
revelation in the fact itself.--I wish to show that in the symbolic use
of the word the same truth is involved, or, if not involved, at least
suggested. But let me first make another remark on the preceding
definition of the word.
There is no denying that the first notion suggested by the word polish
is that of smoothness, which will indeed be the sole idea associated
with it before we begin to contemplate the matter. But when we consider
what things are chosen to be "clothed upon" with this smoothness, then
we find that the smoothness is scarcely desired for its own sake, and
remember besides that in many materials and situations it is elaborately
avoided. We find that here it is sought because of its faculty of
enabling other things to show themselves--to come to the surface.
I proceed then to examine how far my pregnant interpretation of the word
will apply to its figurative use in two cases--Polish of Style, and
Polish of Manners. The two might be treated together, seeing that
Style may be called the manners of intellectual utterance, and
Manners the style of social utterance; but it is more convenient to
treat them separately.
I will begin with the Polish of Style.
It will be seen at once that if the notion of polish be limited to that
of smoothness, there can be little to say on the matter, and nothing
worthy of being said. For mere smoothness is no more a desirable quality
in a style than it is in a country or a countenance; and its pursuit
will result at length in the gain of the monotonous and the loss of the
melodious and harmonious. But it is only upon worthless material that
polish can be mere smoothness; and where the material is not valuable,
polish can be nothing but smoothness. No amount of polish in a style can
render the production of value, except there be in it embodied thought
thereby revealed; and the labour of the polish is lost. Let us then take
the fuller meaning of polish, and see how it will apply to style.
If it applies, then Polish of Style will imply the approximately
complete revelation of the thought. It will be the removal of everything
that can interfere between the thought of the speaker and the mind of
the hearer. True polish in marble or in speech reveals inlying
realities, and, in the latter at least, mere smoothness, either of sound
or of meaning, is not worthy of the name. The most polished style will
be that which most immediately and most truly flashes the meaning
embodied in the utterance upon the mind of the listener or reader.
"Will you then," I imagine a reader objecting, "admit of no ornament in
style?"
"Assuredly," I answer, "I would admit of no ornament whatever."
But let me explain what I mean by ornament. I mean anything stuck in or
on, like a spangle, because it is pretty in itself, although it reveals
nothing. Not one such ornament can belong to a polished style. It is
paint, not polish. And if this is not what my questioner means by
ornament, my answer must then be read according to the differences in
his definition of the word. What I have said has not the least
application to the natural forms of beauty which thought assumes in
speech. Between such beauty and such ornament there lies the same
difference as between the overflow of life in the hair, and the dressing
of that loveliest of utterances in grease and gold.
For, when I say that polish is the removal of everything that comes
between thought and thinking, it must not be supposed that in my idea
thought is only of the intellect, and therefore that all forms but bare
intellectual forms are of the nature of ornament. As well might one say
that the only essential portion of the human form is the bones. And
every human thought is in a sense a human being, has as necessarily its
muscles of motion, its skin of beauty, its blood of feeling, as its
skeleton of logic. For complete utterance, music itself in its right
proportions, sometimes clear and strong, as in rhymed harmonies,
sometimes veiled and dim, as in the prose compositions of the masters of
speech, is as necessary as correctness of logic, and common sense in
construction. I should have said conveyance rather than utterance; for
there may be utterance such as to relieve the mind of the speaker with
more or less of fancied communication, while the conveyance of thought
may be little or none; as in the speaking with tongues of the infant
Church, to which the lovely babblement of our children has probably more
than a figurative resemblance, relieving their own minds, but, the
interpreter not yet at his post, neither instructing nor misleading any
one. But as the object of grown-up speech must in the main be the
conveyance of thought, and not the mere utterance, everything in the
style of that speech which interposes between the mental eyes and the
thought embodied in the speech, must be polished away, that the
indwelling life may manifest itself.
What, then (for now we must come to the practical), is the kind of thing
to be polished away in order that the hidden may be revealed?
All words that can be dismissed without loss; for all such more or less
obscure the meaning upon which they gather. The first step towards the
polishing of most styles is to strike out--polish off--the useless words
and phrases. It is wonderful with how many fewer words most things could
be said that are said; while the degree of certainty and rapidity with
which an idea is conveyed would generally be found to be in an inverse
ratio to the number of words employed.
All ornaments so called--the nose and lip jewels of style--the tattooing
of the speech; all similes that, although true, give no additional
insight into the meaning; everything that is only pretty and not
beautiful; all mere sparkle as of jewels that lose their own beauty by
being set in the grandeur of statues or the dignity of monumental stone,
must be ruthlessly polished away.
All utterances which, however they may add to the amount of thought,
distract the mind, and confuse its observation of the main idea, the
essence or life of the book or paper, must be diligently refused. In the
manuscript of Comus there exists, cancelled but legible, a passage of
which I have the best authority for saying that it would have made the
poetic fame of any writer. But the grand old self-denier struck it out
of the opening speech because that would be more polished without
it--because the Attendant Spirit would say more immediately and
exclusively, and therefore more completely, what he had to say, without
it.--All this applies much more widely and deeply in the region of art;
but I am at present dealing with the surface of style, not with the
round of result.
I have one instance at hand, however, belonging to this region, than
which I could scarcely produce a more apt illustration of my thesis. One
of the greatest of living painters, walking with a friend through the
late Exhibition of Art-Treasures at Manchester, came upon Albert Dürer's
Melancholia. After looking at it for a moment, he told his friend that
now for the first time he understood it, and proceeded to set forth what
he saw in it. It was a very early impression, and the delicacy of the
lines was so much the greater. He had never seen such a perfect
impression before, and had never perceived the intent and scope of the
engraving. The mere removal of accidental thickness and furriness in the
lines of the drawing enabled him to see into the meaning of that
wonderful production. The polish brought it to the surface. Or, what
amounts to the same thing for my argument, the dulling of the surface
had concealed it even from his experienced eyes.
In fine, and more generally, all cause whatever of obscurity must be
polished away. There may lie in the matter itself a darkness of colour
and texture which no amount of polishing can render clear or even vivid;
the thoughts themselves may be hard to think, and difficulty must not be
confounded with obscurity. The former belongs to the thoughts
themselves; the latter to the mode of their embodiment. All cause of
obscurity in this must, I say, be removed. Such may lie even in the
region of grammar, or in the mere arrangement of a sentence. And while,
as I have said, no ornament is to be allowed, so all roughnesses, which
irritate the mental ear, and so far incapacitate it for receiving a true
impression of the meaning from the words, must be carefully reduced. For
the true music of a sentence, belonging as it does to the essence of the
thought itself, is the herald which goes before to prepare the mind for
the following thought, calming the surface of the intellect to a
mirror-like reflection of the image about to fall upon it. But syllables
that hang heavy on the tongue and grate harsh upon the ear are the
trumpet of discord rousing to unconscious opposition and conscious
rejection.
And now the consideration of the Polish of Manners will lead us to some
yet more important reflections. Here again I must admit that the
ordinary use of the phrase is analogous to that of the preceding; but
its relations lead us deep into realities. For as diamond alone can
polish diamond, so men alone can polish men; and hence it is that it was
first by living in a city ([Greek: polis], polis) that men--
"rubbed each other's angles down,"
and became polished. And while a certain amount of ease with regard to
ourselves and of consideration with regard to others is everywhere
necessary to a man's passing as a gentleman--all unevenness of behaviour
resulting either from shyness or self-consciousness (in the shape of
awkwardness), or from overweening or selfishness (in the shape of
rudeness), having to be polished away--true human polish must go further
than this. Its respects are not confined to the manners of the ball-room
or the dinner-table, of the club or the exchange, but wherever a man may
rejoice with them that rejoice or weep with them that weep, he must
remain one and the same, as polished to the tiller of the soil as to the
leader of the fashion.
But how will the figure of material polish aid us any further? How can
it be said that Polish of Manners is a revelation of that which is
within, a calling up to the surface of the hidden loveliness of the
material? For do we not know that courtesy may cover contempt; that
smiles themselves may hide hate; that one who will place you at his
right hand when in want of your inferior aid, may scarce acknowledge
your presence when his necessity has gone by? And how then can polished
manners be a revelation of what is within? Are they not the result of
putting on rather than of taking off? Are they not paint and varnish
rather than polish?
I must yield the answer to each of these questions; protesting, however,
that with such polish I have nothing to do; for these manners are
confessedly false. But even where least able to mislead, they are, with
corresponding courtesy, accepted as outward signs of an inward grace.
Hence even such, by the nature of their falsehood, support my position.
For in what forms are the colours of the paint laid upon the surface of
the material? Is it not in as near imitations of the real right human
feelings about oneself and others as the necessarily imperfect knowledge
of such an artist can produce? He will not encounter the labour of
polishing, for he does not believe in the divine depths of his own
nature: he paints, and calls the varnish polish.
"But why talk of polish with reference to such a character, seeing that
no amount of polishing can bring to the surface what is not there? No
polishing of sandstone will reveal the mottling of marble. For it is
sandstone, crumbling and gritty--not noble in any way."
Is it so then? Can such be the real nature of the man? And can polish
reach nothing deeper in him than such? May not this selfishness be
polished away, revealing true colour and harmony beneath? Was not the
man made in the image of God? Or, if you say that man lost that image,
did not a new process of creation begin from the point of that loss, a
process of re-creation in him in whom all shall be made alive, which,
although so far from being completed yet, can never be checked? If we
cut away deep enough at the rough block of our nature, shall we not
arrive at some likeness of that true man who, the apostle says, dwells
in us--the hope of glory? He informs us--that is, forms us from within.
Dr. Donne (who knew less than any other writer in the English language
what Polish of Style means) recognizes this divine polishing to the
full. He says in a poem called "The Cross:"--
As perchance carvers do not faces make,
But that away, which hid them there, do take,
Let Crosses so take what hid Christ in thee,
And be his Image, or not his, but He.
This is no doubt a higher figure than that of polish, but it is of the
same kind, revealing the same truth. It recognizes the fact that the
divine nature lies at the root of the human nature, and that the polish
which lets that spiritual nature shine out in the simplicity of heavenly
childhood, is the true Polish of Manners of which all merely social
refinements are a poor imitation.--Whence Coleridge says that nothing
but religion can make a man a gentleman.--And when these harmonies of
our nature come to the surface, we shall be indeed "lively stones," fit
for building into the great temple of the universe, and echoing the
music of creation. Dr. Donne recognizes, besides, the notable fact that
crosses or afflictions are the polishing powers by means of which the
beautiful realities of human nature are brought to the surface. One can
tell at once by the peculiar loveliness of certain persons that they
have suffered.
But, to look for a moment less profoundly into the matter, have we not
known those whose best never could get to the surface just from the lack
of polish?--persons who, if they could only reveal the kindness of
their nature, would make men believe in human nature, but in whom some
roughness of awkwardness or of shyness prevents the true self from
appearing? Even the dread of seeming to claim a good deed or to
patronize a fellow-man will sometimes spoil the last touch of tenderness
which would have been the final polish of the act of giving, and would
have revealed infinite depths of human devotion. For let the truth out,
and it will be seen to be true.
Simplicity is the end of all Polish, as of all Art, Culture, Morals,
Religion, and Life. The Lord our God is one Lord, and we and our
brothers and sisters are one Humanity, one Body of the Head.
Now to the practical: what are we to do for the polish of our manners?
Just what I have said we must do for the polish of our style. Take off;
do not put on. Polish away this rudeness, that awkwardness. Correct
everything self-assertive, which includes nine tenths of all vulgarity.
Imitate no one's behaviour; that is to paint. Do not think about
yourself; that is to varnish. Put what is wrong right, and what is in
you will show itself in harmonious behaviour.
But no one can go far in this track without discovering that true polish
reaches much deeper; that the outward exists but for the sake of the
inward; and that the manners, as they depend on the morals, must be
forgotten in the morals of which they are but the revelation. Look at
the high-shouldered, ungainly child in the corner: his mother tells him
to go to his book, and he wants to go to his play. Regard the swollen
lips, the skin tightened over the nose, the distortion of his shape, the
angularity of his whole appearance. Yet he is not an awkward child by
nature. Look at him again the moment after he has given in and kissed
his mother. His shoulders have dropped to their place; his limbs are
free from the fetters that bound them; his motions are graceful, and the
one blends harmoniously with the other. He is no longer thinking of
himself. He has given up his own way. The true childhood comes to the
surface, and you see what the boy is meant to be always. Look at the
jerkiness of the conceited man. Look at the quiet fluency of motion in
the modest man. Look how anger itself which forgets self, which is
unhating and righteous, will elevate the carriage and ennoble the
movements.
But how far can the same rule of omission or rejection be applied
with safety to this deeper character--the manners of the spirit?
It seems to me that in morals too the main thing is to avoid doing
wrong; for then the active spirit of life in us will drive us on to the
right. But on such a momentous question I would not be dogmatic. Only as
far as regards the feelings I would say: it is of no use to try to make
ourselves feel thus or thus. Let us fight with our wrong feelings; let
us polish away the rough ugly distortions of feeling. Then the real and
the good will come of themselves. Or rather, to keep to my figure, they
will then show themselves of themselves as the natural home-produce, the
indwelling facts of our deepest--that is, our divine nature.
Here I find that I am sinking through my subject into another and
deeper--a truth, namely, which should, however, be the foundation of all
our building, the background of all our representations: that Life is at
work in us--the sacred Spirit of God travailing in us. That Spirit has
gained one end of his labour--at which he can begin to do yet more for
us--when he has brought us to beg for the help which he has been giving
us all the time.
I have been regarding infinite things through the medium of one limited
figure, knowing that figures with all their suggestions and relations
could not reveal them utterly. But so far as they go, these thoughts
raised by the word Polish and its figurative uses appear to me to be
most true.
Prev
| Next
| Contents
|
|
|