OR,
WHAT BOOKS SHALL I READ
HOW SHALL I READ THEM?
or
NOAH  PORTER, D.D., LLD.,
PuOFEsoU I 4TL3 CoLiZGa
-and books we know
Are a enbstantlal world, both pure and good;
Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood,
Our pastime End our happiness will grow.
NEW YORK:
CHARLES SCRIBNER & CO.
1871.




Entered aocording to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by
-CHARLES SCRIBNE4 & CO.,
in the Office of tile Librarian of Congress, at Washingtoa.
y4AS. B. RODGERS CO.,
ELXCTROTYPE ES,
"52 a 54 N. Sixth St., Philadelphia.




THIS VOLUME
IS INSCRIBED BY THE AUTHOR
TO HIS HONORED FRIEND,
MISS MARY LUCAS HILLHOUSE,
WHOSE LONG AND USEFUL LIFE
HAS BEEN ENTHUSIASTICALLY DEVOTED
TO BOOKS AND READING;
AND NONE THE LESS WISELY AND EFFICIENTLY,
TO THE MANY GOOD OBJECTS
WHICH HAVE ENLISTEI)
IhER WOMANLY SYMPATHIE:
AND HER SAGACIOUS BENEVOLENCE.








PREFACE.
THE papers contained in this volume have
grown out of a lecture which was written several
years ago, and has been often repeated. The
lecture was originally designed to meet the wants
of younger and older persons who might be in a
condition to be profited by a few practical suggestions, enforced by illustrations from well-known
authors. The papers have been expanded with
a similar intent. The didactic form and manner
of the lecture has been designedly retained as allowing greater condensation and directness, and as
more appropriate to the position of a teacher and
counsellor.  Useful suggestions have not been
omitted even though to many they might seem
common-place. The illustrations have usually
been derived from authors who might be supposed to be familiar to the reader. The wants of
those beginning to read have been especially considered, while those who are more or less famiv




Vi               PREFACE.
liar with books and practised in reading have not
been wholly overlooked.
A sufficiently extended account of the aims of
the author and of the plan of this series of papers
is given in the First Chapter. In executing the
plan proposed, the author has been led to discuss
somewhat more at length than he had intended,
the prominent characteristics of different classes
of books and the  conditions of success in different
descriptions of Reading..He hopes that the effect.of these discussions may lead to more comprehensive and elevated estimates of authors and of literature on the part of those who read themselves or
who direct the reading of -others, and that in this
and other ways, the volume may stimnulate to a
wise selection of Books and to enlightened and
successful methods of Reading.
YTALE~ COLLEGE, Otober, -1870,




CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTORY....             1
CHAPTER. II.
WHAT IS A BOOK? AND WHAT'IS IT TO READ:?:.  18
ChIAPTER IIL
HOW TO READ —ATTENTION IN READING...     28
CHAPTER IV.
HOW TO READ WITH INTEREST AND EFFECT..      37
CHAPTER V.
THE RELATIONS OF THE READER TO HIS AUTHOR..   48
CHAPTER VI.
THE INFLUENCE OF BOOKS AND READING ON THE OPINIONS
AND PRINCIPLES....       62
CHAPTER VII.
THE MORAL INFLUENCE OF BOOKS AND READING.-THE READING OF FICTION.....            72
CHAPTER VIII.
IMAGINATIVE LITERATURE: ITS REPRESENTATIONS OF MORAL'
EVIL.......       81
CHAPTER: IX.
THE RELIGIOUS CHARACTER AN5D INFLUENCE OF BOOKS AND
READI'G.....101
iii




Viii               CONTENTS.
CHAPTER X.
PAME.
A CHRISTIAN LITERATURE: HOW CONCEIVED AND DEFINED. 111
CHAPTER XI.
HISTORY AND HISTORICAL READING. e.      125
CHAPTER XII.
HOW TO READ HISTORY...          143
CHAPTER XIII.
A COURSE OF HISTORICAL READING,.            166
CHAPTER XIV.
BIOGRAPHY AND BIOGRAPHICAL READING...     195
CHAPTER XV.
NOVELS AND NOVEL READING..                 218
CHAPTER XVI.
POETRY AND POETS....                 240
CHAPTER XVII.
TlIE CRITICISM AND HISTORY OF LITERATURE..  265
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE CRITICISM OF ENGLISH LITERATURE.            285
CHAPTER XIX.
BOOKS OF SCIENCE AND DUTY...            303
CHAPTER XX.
RELIGIOUS BOOKS AND SUNDAY READING..          322
CHAPTER XXI.
NEWSPAPERS AND PERIODICALS..      341
CHAPTER XXITL
THrE LJBRaARY.                                  3601




BOOKS AN'D READING:
OR,
WHAT BOOKS SHALL I READ, AND HOW
SHALL I READ Tt M?
CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTORY.
WERE a South-sea Islander to be suddenly taken up
from his savage home and set down in one of the great
cities of Europe,-among the many strange objects which
he would see, one of the most incomprehensible would be
a public library.
A cathedral he would at once understand. Its vast area
would suggest a counterpart in the inclosure which from
his childhood onward he had known and feared as a place
of worship. Its clustered pillars and lofty arches would
bring to mind a well-remembered grove of old and stately
trees, "with sounding walks between;" the dreaded dwelling of some cruel deity, or the fit arena for some "abhorred
rite." The altar, the priests, the reverent worshipers,
would speak to his mind their own meaning.
A military parade he might comprehend without an interpreter's aid. The measured tread of gathered legions,
would, indeed, differ not a little from the wild rush of his
own barbarous clan; the inspiring call of trumpet and horn,
1




2               Books and Reading.          [CHAP. I.
of fife and drum, blending with all those nameless instruments which make the music of war so splendid and so
spirit-stirring, would be unlike the horrid, dissonant noises,
with which the savage sounds out his bloody errand; but
the object and purpose of the show would be seen at a
glance, and would wake up all the warrior in his bosom.
A festive gathering of lords and ladies gay would be
quite an intelligible affair, and the more closely he should
look into the particulars of the transaction, the more numerous, it is possible, might be the points of resemblance
between the barbaric and the fashionable assembly.
A gallery of paintings, adorned with the proudest trophies of genius, might not be altogether without meaning;
for though the savage would look upon the creations of
Raphael or Titian with somewhat such an eye as that with
which Caliban looked upon Miranda, yet the uses of such
a collection, which the price of his own kingdom could not
buy, would not be entirely beyond his comprehension.
But a public library would be too much for him. It
would prove a mystery quite beyond his reach. Its design and its utility would be alike incomprehensible. The
front of the edifice within which the library was placed,
might indeed command his admiration: and within, the
lofty arches, the lengthened aisles and the labyrinthine
succession of apartments, might attract and bewilder him.
The books even, rising one above another in splendid lines,
and dressed in gilt and purple and green, might seem to
his savage eye a very pretty sight; though they would
please that eye just as well if carved and colored upon
the solid wall, or if, as has been the fancy of certain
owners of libraries, the volumes had been wrought from
solid wood-fit books for the wooden heads that owned
them.
The mystery of the library to the savage, would be the
bookls in it-what they were, what they were for, and why




CHAP. I.]          Introductory.                   3
they were thought worthy to be lodged in a building so
imposing, and watched with such jealous care. If he
should linger among the apartments for reading, and watch
the movements of the inmates, his wonder would be likely
to increase. His eye might rest upon Dr. Dryasdust, the
antiquarian, as with anxious look and bustling air he
rushes into one closet after another, takes volume after
volume from its dusty retreat, looks into each as the con-.juring priest at home looks into a tree or a stone to see the
spirit within, and after copying from each in strange characters, stuffs the manuscript into his pocket, and walks off
as proudly as though, like the self-same priest, he had
caught and bagged the spirit in some fetish, amulet, or medicine-bag. The man of science sits for hours unconscious
of the presence of the wondering savage, and grows more
and more bewildered as he gazes upon a single page.
The savage watches the poet reading a favorite author, and
marvels at the mysterious influence that dilates his eye
and kindles his cheek, and sends madness through his
frame. He is astonished at the reader of fiction, looking
upon what seems to him a vacant page, and yet seeming to
see in its enchanted lines a world of spirits,-living,
moving, talking, walking, loving, hating, fighting, dying.
Should he seek an explanation of the mystery, the explanation would rather deepen than solve the enigma. Here
is a volume, his interpreter might say, by the aid of whose
characters the shipmaster can guide his vessel to your
island-home as easily as you can follow a forest path.
From this volume you can learn the story of that famous
white captain who first landed upon your shores, in the
days of your great-grandfather, and was there killed and
buried; and-mystery above mystery-in this little book
which gives an account of the discovery of your country by
the white man, will be found the sufficient reason why his
majesty, our king, has a right to burn your towns, to shoot




4               Books and Reading.          [CaAP. I.
down your people, to take possession of your land and
bring you hither as a captive; all by the right of discovery, and of a title-deed from some king orsother potentate who never saw the country which he gave away.
This lesson concerning the nature and value of books
would probably be quite enough for once, and would send
the poor barbarian away, well satisfied that a book was indeed a very wonderful thing, and that a collection of books
well deserved to be deposited in a dwelling so adorned and
so secure.
Were our savage to remain longer among his civilized
brethren, and gradually to master the mysteries of their
social state, his estimate of the influence of books would be
likely to gather strength. To say nothing of their past influence in bringing a nation up to a point at.which he
could only wonder and be silent, their present power to determine the character and destiny of single individuals
might startle and surprise him. A few pages in a single
volume fall as it were by chance under the eye of a boy
in his leisure hours. They fascinate and fix his attention;
they charm and hold his mind; and the resuk is, that the
boy becomes a sailor and is wedded to the sea for his life.
No force nor influence can undo the work begun by those
few pages; no love of father or mother, no temptation of
money or honor, no fear of suffering or disgrace, is an
overmatch for the enchantment conjured up and sustained
by that exciting volume. A single book has made the boy
a seaman for life; perhaps a pirate, wretched in his life
and death. Another book meets the eye of another youth,
and wakes in his bosom holy aspirations, which, all his life
after, burn on in the useless flames of a painful asceticism,
or in a kindly love to God and man. Another youth in
an unhappy hour meets still another volume, and it makes
him a hater of his fellow-man and a blasphemer of his God.
One book makes one man a believer in goodness and love




CHAP. I.]           Introductory.                 5
and truth; another book makes another man a denier or
doubter of these sacred verities.
These thoughts may serve to introduce our subject and
to suggest its importance. BooKs AND READING are the
theme-or rather the themes-on which it is proposed to
offer a series of free and familiar thoughts, principally of a
practical nature. The importance of the subject is not
only great, but it is constantly increasing. Books, as an
element of influence, are becoming more and more important, and reading is the employment of a widening circle.
Books of all sorts are now brought within the reach of
most persons who desire to read them. The time has
gone by when the mass of the community were restricted
to a score or two of volumes: the Bible, one or two works
of devotion, two or three standard histories, and a halfdozen novels. Many intelligent men can recollect the
time when all the books on which they could lay their
hands were few, and were read and re-read till they were
dry as a remainder biscuit, or as empty as a thricethreshed sheaf.
There are ladies now living, who were well educated for
their time, to whom the loan or the gift of a new book
was an important event in their history, making a winter
memorable, and now their daughters or grand-daughters
dispatch a novel or a poem before dinner. All the known
books for children, two generations ago, were some half a
score; whereas, at present, new "juveniles" are prepared
by the hundred a year, and the library of a child ten
years old is very often more numerous and costly than was
that of many a substantial and intelligent household.
The minds of tens of thousands are stimulated and occupied with books, books, books, from three years old onward through youth and manhood. We read when we
sit, when we lie down, and when we ride; sometimes
when we eat and when we walk. WVhen we travel we en



6               Books and Reading.          [CHAP. 1.
counter a moving library on every railway car, and a fixed
library at every railway station. Books are prepared for
railway reading, and Railway Library is the title of more
than one series of books in America, England, France, and
Germany. We read when we are well and when we are
ill, when we are busy and when we are idle, and some
even die with a book in hand. There is little use for the
caution now-a-days, "Beware of the man of one book."
If it be true, as it may be, that single books make an impression less marked and decisive than formerly, so that a
bad or inferior book may do less harm than it once did, it
is also true that bad books and inferior books are far more
common than they once were. Their poison is also more
subtle and less easily detected, for as the taste of readers
becomes omnivorous, it becomes less discriminating. Besides, the readiness with which good men, and men sturdy
in their principles too, read books which they despise and
abhor, has introduced a freedom of practice on this subject, at which other generations would have stood aghast.
In many cases too, if the principles are not corrupted by
reading, the taste is vitiated. Or if nothing worse happens, delicacy of appreciation suffers from the amount of
intellectual food which is forced upon us, and the satisfaction is far less keen and exquisite than was enjoyed by
readers of a few books of superior merit.
The number of persons who ask the questions: WHAT
BOOKS SHALL I READ? AND HOW SHALL I READ THEM?
is very great. Those who are beginning to feel an interest in books and reading, and who long for friendly direction, ask these questions more frequently than they receive
wise and satisfactory answers.  Intelligent young men,
who have finished their education at school-clerks, apprentices, farmers, teachers who are moved by a wise and
sincere desire for self-culture and self-improvement-ask
the same questions of themselves and others. If they go




CsAP. I.]           Introductory.                  7
into a bookstore, they are bewildered by the number and
variety of the books from which they are to select, and
their chance selection is as likely, to say the least, to be
bad as good. It will rarely happen that it is the best
which could be made. The bookseller can tell them what
books are popular and have a run, but this recommendation is of a doubtful character. They may have access to
a well-selected library, but still they are at fault, not
knowing how or what to choose for their immediate and
individual wants. Students also, who are in a course of
education at school or college, or who, having finished
their course, would mark out for themselves a generous
plan of private reading, are often greatly at a loss for the
best answers to the questions which they would ask.
Their time is limited, and they pertinaciously inquire:What books ought I to read first of all, and what next
in order? In what way can a student form and direct a
taste for the highest kind of literature? How far can he
trust, and ought he to follow his fancy; how far should he
thwart and oppose his taste, and seek to form it anew?
Are there any fixed principles of criticism, by which the
best books may be known, and a taste for them formed
and fixed? Young ladies, too, who are earlier released
from the confinement of school-life and the drudgery of
imposed studies-who often set the taste and prescribe the
fashion for the reading of the village or the circle in which
they move-often sadly suffer for the want of a little
direction. Their sensibility is fresh, their fancy is wakeful, their taste is easily moulded.  If guided aright, they
might attain to a cultivated acquaintance with those imaginative writers who would inspire the purest and tenderest emotions and'enrich the fancy with the noblest images;
who would elevate their tastes and confirm good and noble
principles. For the want of such direction, it often happens that such young ladies read themselves down into an




8               Books and Reading.           [CHAP. L
utter waste and frivolity of thought, feeling, and purpose.
The trashy literature in which they delight, becomes the
cheap and vapid representative of their empty minds,
their heartless affections, and their frivolous characters.
Besides the classes already named, there are  heads of
families who wish to form libraries, smaller or greater,
which may instruct and amuse both themselves and their
households, but who often choose books that defeat the
very aims which they propose to accomplish, and react
with more or less evil upon their children. What books
shall they buy and how shall they judge of books? Above
all, how shall they train themselves and others to the best
use of the books which they possess and read?
We would in these papers meet this variety of wants;
not completely-to attempt which would be idle-but in
part, so far as our limits will allow. To give a complete
catalogue of the best books, even in a few departments of
literature, would be quite impossible. Such a catalogue
would be dry reading at best-as dry as a volume of
statistics, or a report of the census, and of far less interest
and authority; for no man, on such a subject, would
blindly yield himself to the direction of any single mind.
A partial catalogue with a critique upon each author,
would be little better. All that can be accomplished is to
furnish thoughts and principles which may awaken the
mind to wise activity, and illustrate them by examples
fiom books and authors. We would show that the books
which we read even carelessly, exert an influence upon us
which is far more potent than we are apt to think, and
that we ought to select our books-above all our favorite
books-with a more jealous care than we choose our
friends and intimates. We would also show that reading
is more than the amusement of an hour and the gratification of a capricious fancy: that it is an employment which
may leave behind the most powerful impress for good, or




CHAP. I.]]         Introductory.                   9
which may reduce the soul to utter barrenness and waste,
and even scathe it as with devouring fire. We would
treat.also of the different kinds of books and the methods
of reading appropriate to each. We hope also to give
some direction to the taste, and this without the dry and
formal precepts of the schools, or the captious and positive
dogmatism of the professed critic. The taste, as applied
to books and reading, like the eye for color and form, may
be-educated,-or rather it may be taught how to educate
itself. We would aid in this effort at self-culture; especially would we indicate what are the methods and
ways of reading imaginative literature, which may cause
it to yield pure and exquisite delight, to add power to
the intellect, and to impart a grace and finish to the character and life.
We are not insensible to the perils which are incident
to our attempt. Not a few have undertaken to answer the
questions which we have proposed, and have succeeded
very indifferently. Many a young man has asked his respected teacher or trusted adviser " What and how shall I
read?" and been put off with tiresome platitudes and
solemn commonplaces for an answer, coupled with the
titles of half a score of works, which every person is supp sed to be acquainted with, and which are deemed eminently judicious and safe reading. The manuals usually
known as " Courses of Reading," though useful to a certain extent, usually lack the germinant force of fundamental principles in respect to the object of reading and the
estimate of authors. The list of books which Dr. Johnson recommended to a clerical friend, is a good example of
most of the catalogues which are hastily prepared even by
eminent critics. " Universal History (ancient)-Rollin's
Ancient Ilistory-_Puiendowf's Introduction to History —
Vertot's History of the Knights of CMalta- Vertot's Revolutions of Portugai- Vertot's Revolutions of Sweden- Carte's




10              Books and Reading.          [CHAP. I.
History of England-Present State of England —Geographical Grammar-Prideaux's Connection-Nelson's Feasts
and Fasts-Duty of Man —Gentleman's Religion- Clarendon's History — Watts' Im:provement of the 3lind —Watts'
Logic-Nature Displayed-Lowth's E-nglish GrammarBlackwall on the Classics-Sherlock's Sermons-Burnet's
Life of Hale —Dupuis' History of the Church-Shuckford's Connections-Law's Serious Call- Walton's Complete Angler-Sandys' Travels-Sprat's History  of the
Royal Society-England's Gazetteer- Goldsmith's Roman
History-some  Commentaries on the Bible."  This list
seems to include works of three different classes. Books
of standard authority and permanent value; books which
had happened to please Dr. Johnson's permanent or temporary humor; books which had happened to occur to
his mind when he was writing out the catalogue for his
young friend. The most exciting and satisfactory comments on books and reading are not usually found in
formal treatises,'but in such incidental remarks as those
which are recorded by Boswell of Dr. Johnson, or are met
with in Montaigne's rambling and free-spoken essay " Of
Books," or in the pithy and pregnant essay of Bacon on
"Studies," with  W'hateley's Commentary, or in Charles
Lamb's "Detached Thoughts on Books and Reading," or in
Hazlitt's many incisive essays and Coleridge's wonderfully
stimulating criticisms, or in two or three good thoughts
from Carlyle's address at Edinburgh mis-named " On the
Choice of Books," or the essay of R. W. Emerson on
" Books" in the volume entitled  "Society and Solitude,"  which is characteristic of the author, even to
his remarks about " Jesus " and "the Bibles of the world."
All manuals entitled "Courses of Reading" must be
exposed to the objection noticed by the elder D'Israeli,
that they necessarily fall behind the times the moment they come up to them. A course of reading that




CHAP. I.]           Introductory.                 11
should be complete in one month must begin to be defective the next.
Courses of reading from an elder adviser or friend to a
pupil or proteg#, even if they are hastily prepared, serve a
good purpose as pictures of the times. They cast more or
less light upon the culture and knowledge which prevailed
when they were written. A very distinguished clergyman
of New England, furnishes the following list of books for
a young pastor in 1792. "In Divinity, you will not
wonder if I recommend President Edwards' writings in
general; Dr. Bellamy's and Dr. Hopkins'; President
Davies' Sermons; Robert Walker's Sermons; Howe's do;
Addison's Evidences; Beattie's Evidences of Christianity;
Leland's View of Deistical W'riters; Berry Street Sermons;in History Prideaux's Connection; Rollin's Ancient History; Goldsmith's Roman History; do. History of England, or Rider's History of England which is more prolix
and particular; Robertson's History of South America; do.
History of Charles V; Hutchinson's History of Massachusetts; Ramsay's History of the War; Guthrie's and Morse's
Geography; Josephus' History of the Jews;- Watts on the
Mind; Locke on the Human  Understanding;-Specta.tor; Guardian; Tattler; Rambler; Pamela; Clarissa;
Grandison; Telemachus; Don Quixote; Anderson's Voyage; Cook's Voyages; Milton; Young's Night Thoughts;
Vicesimus Knox's Essays; Do. On Education;-Buchan's
_Family Physician; Tissot on  Health. —These  may be
sufficient-but additions may be easily made. The great
danger will be of getting useless and hurtful books, especially Novels and Romances which generally corrupt,
especially young minds; beside the loss of the purchase
money and the time spent in the reading of them."
Another paper of a later date was prepared by a clergyman, of some reputation for literature, for a young lady,
whose mind the writer sought to direct, and, as is very




12              Books and Reading.           [CHAP. I.
likely, whose heart and hand he sought to win. It is as
follows: "List of Books for a young lady's Library."
"Cann's small Bible (with marginal references); Horne's
Paraphrase on the Psalms; Mrs. Hannah Alore's Strictures
on Female Education; Mirs. Chapone's Letters to her
Niece; Grove on the Sacrament; Mason on Self-Knowledge; Doddridge's Rise and Progress, etc.; Newton on the
Prophecies; Guide to Domestic Happiness and the Refuge;
Cowper's Works, 2 vols.: Young's Night Thoughts; Elegant Extracts in Poetry; Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia;
The Rambler; Thomson's Seasons; Dwight's Conquest of
Canaan; Washington's Life; Trumbull's History of Connecticut. This list of books might be enlarged, and
perhaps upon recollection some alteration might be made,
but these are well calculated to mend the' heart, to direct
the imagination and thoughts to proper objects, and to
give command over them upon good principles. To read
profitably we should always then have some object in
view  more than merely to pass away time, by letting
words run off our tongue or through our minds. * * *
Order and system in any business, and certainly in cultivating the mind, is really necessary, if we would be
benefited by study. It is by having a few books well
chosen and attentively and perseveringly read, that we fix
in our mind useful principles. Books are multiplied
without number, and it becomes perplexing to run from
one to another, and none are well understood when we
read in this manner. The Bible should always stand first
in our esteem and be read first daily. It affords every
species of reading, —history, biography, poetry, etc.,-and
shows the heart in its true character."
If anything would discourage us from prosecuting the
plan of writing upon Books and Reading, it would be the
perusal of this paper of well-meant truisms and well-worn
commonplaces. It does -not follow, however, because




CHAP. I.]          Introductory.                13
advice upon any subject is especially liable to degenerate
into meaningless generalities, that advice should never be
given; nor, because it is comparatively easy to discourse
safely with uplifted eye-brows about the books we read
and the companions we choose, that such counsel should
never be given at all. The much-needed pilot-boat must
run the risk of being itself stranded upon dangerous flats
and beguiling shallows, if it would preserve the vessel
from being ingulfed in the deeper seas, and the more terrible breakers.
There are not a few readers who reject all guidance and
restraint-some from inclination, and some from a theory that counsel and selection interfere with the freedom of
individual taste and the spontaneity of individual genius.
Their motto in general is: "of all the sorts of VICE that
prevail ADVICE is the most vexatious." So far as read ng is
concerned, it is, "In brief, sir, study what you most affect."
One person, they insist, cannot advise for another, because
one cannot put himself in the place of another. "Read
what speaks to your heart and mind; let your own feelings
be your guide, and leave critics and advisers to their stupid
analyses and narrow or prejudiced judgments. Read that
you may enjoy, not that you may judge; that you may
gather impulse and inspiration, not that you may understand the reasons or explore the sources of the instruction
and enjoyment which you unconsciously derive from the
books in which you most delight." There is truth and
force in this position, we grant. No man can read with
profit that which he cannot learn to read with pleasure.
If I do not myself find in a book something which I myself am looking for, or am ready to receive, then the book
is no book for me whatever, however much it may be for
another man. But to assert that one cannot help another
to select and to judge of books is, in principle, to renounce
all instruction and dependence on those who are older and




14               Books and Reading.            [CHAP. I.
wiser than we. To be consistent, it would turn every man
into a hermit or a savage. Such a position is sometimes
silly self-conceit; sometimes simple pride; sometimes it is
a voluptuous animalism that would find in literature both
stimulus and excuse for sensual indulgence. The wise adviser would respect the tastes of each reader, and would
even bid him both gratify and follow them, but he. can do
something to aid him in discerning what they are, and
why, and how far they are to be allowed, or, if need be, restrained.  Inspiration, genius, individual tastes, elective
affinities, do not necessarily exclude self-knowledge, selfcriticism, or self-control. If the genius of a man lies in
the development of the individual person that he is, his
manhood lies in finding out by self-study what he is and
what he may become, and in wisely using the means that
are fitted to form and perfect his individuality.
Others are especially jealous of the use of any moral
standard in the critical judgments of books, or in the advice which is furnished concerning methods of reading.
Such persons would be instinctively repelled from the papers which we propose to write, as they may have already
inferred that we intend to use ethical considerations very
freely, and perhaps severely. Against this they will inwardly protest in thoughts like these:-What has literature to do with morality? Poetry and fiction, essays and
the drama, history and biography-everything in short
which we usually call literature-aim  to present man and
his experiences as they are, and not as they ought to be.
It is the aim and end of all these to describe, and not to
judge, to paint to the life, and not to praise or condemn.
The reader, not the writer, may judge if he will and as he
will. But, in order to be able to judge, one must see all
sides of human nature and human life, and these must be
portrayed with energy and truth as they are; he must survey every manifestation of the human soul, the evil as




CHAP. I.]          I Introductory.                  15
well as the good, the passionate as truly as the self-controlled. The censor who brings the laws of duty-to measure and regulate our reading, who judges of books as he
judges of men, interferes with the freedom that gives all
its life to literature and most of the zest and value to reading.
There is some truth in all this; or rather, there is a truth
which is perverted into this caricature and error.  What
the truth is, and how far it may be carried without perversion and danger, we will show as we proceed. For the
present, we observe that no mistake can be more serious
than to suppose that the law of conscience and the rules of
duty have nothing to do with the production and enjoyment of literature, as many modern libertines in the field
of imaginative writing would have us believe. Ethical
ideals are produced by the same creative imagination which
furnishes the poet and the novelist their materials and their
power.  Ethical truth is but another name for imagination
holding "the mirror up to nature," i. e., to nature in man,
or human nature.  Nature in man invariably prescribes
ethical standards, and to these the imagination responds
when she sets forth fiction as fact, poetry as truth, and history as reality in its highest import and loftiest significance.
Not only is this true, but much more than this can be
shown most satisfactorily.
If the lessons of these facts teach anything, they teach
that literature must respect ethical truth if it is to reach its
highest achievements, or attain that place in the admiration and love of the human race which we call fame. The
literature which does not respect ethical truth, ordinarily
survives as literature but a single generation. The writer
who gives himself to any of the untruths which are known
as superficial, sensual, Satanic, godless, or unchristian, ordinarily gains for himself either a brief notoriety or an unenviable immortality. I-e is either lost, or damned to fame.




16              Books and Reading.              [cHAP. I.
Of all the shams that pass current, with those who write or
with those who.read, that is the flimsiest which hopes to
outrage or cheat the human conscience. While, then, on
the one hand we contend for a somewhat liberal construction of the ethical and religious code as applied to the production and use of literary works, we insist that certain
rules on this subject can be easily ascertained, and should
be uncompromisingly enforced. But we as earnestly affirm
that neither ethical truth, nor even religious earnestness,
does of itself qualify a writer to produce, or require the
reader to read a work which has no other ground on which
to enforce its claims to attention and respect. It is not
enough to say of a book, that it is good or goodish, that it
is Christian or safe, in order to justify its having been
written or printed. There prevails not a little cant and
hollowness, if not gross imposition and downright dishonesty, in the use of the phrases " Christian literature," and
" safe or wholesome reading," as we may have occasion to
illustrate at some length.
We wish it to be understood that we do not write for
scholars or litterateurs, but for readers of English; not for
bibliographers or bibliomaniacs, to whom literature and
reading are a profession, a trade, or a passion; but for those
earnest readers to whom books and reading are instruction
and amusement, rest and refreshment, inspiration and relaxation. Our papers will be familiar and free, not affected
or constrained. Usefulness is their aim and object, and
this-aim will control the selection and illustration of the
topics which may suggest themselves as we proceed.
But enough of this premising. We promise nothing,
and yet we would attempt something. What we propose,
if accomplished, will make these papers useful rather than
exciting. They will be the minister of pleasure in their
remote results, rather than by immediate excitement.




CHAP. I.]            Introductory.                  17
While then, as all well-mannered writers do, we ask the
attention of the reader, we trust it will be given with a
clear understanding of the character of what we propose
to offer him, and with no extravagant expectations concerning its interest or ifs wo:th.
2




CHAPTER II.
WHAT IS A BOOK? AND WHAT IS IT TO READ?
IT may appear very much like trifling to ask these
questions. Nothing is more familiar and nothing seems
better understood.  We may, however, find it useful to
define, somewhat formally, what a book is, and what it is
to read a book. Children, as we know, are very generally
taught that whatever is printed is to be regarded with
deference. The fiction is useful if not necessary, first, to
prevent them from tearing books, and next, to train them
to listen to the wisdom of books with a teachable spirit.
In consequence, they learn very easily to esteem all books
as alike oracles of wisdom and truth.
Mr. IH. Crabb Robinson tells us that when a child he
was corrected for mis-spelling a word on the authority of
his spelling-book.  On being told  that the word was
wrongly printed he says "I was quite confounded.  I
believed as firmly in the infallibility of print as.any good
Catholic can in the infallibility of his Church. I knew
that naughty boys would tell stories, but how a book
could contain a falsehood was quite incomprehensible."
-Diary, Chap. ii.
Not a few men live and die with a similar impression,
and never cease to esteem a book as in some way endowed
with a mysterious authority by the very fact that it is a
book. This opinion is well expressed in the lines
"'Tis pleasant, sure, to see one's name in print;
A book's a book, although there's nothing in't."
Following this tradition there are very intelligent men who.
18




CHAP. II.] What a Book is, and what it is to read.  i9
would never think of spending fifteen minutes in listening
to stupidity or commonplace from a man's lips, who make
it their duty and imagine it useful, solemnly to read, to
weigh, and consider, any amount of dullness which an accredited author chooses to print, especially if it is done on
expensive white paper and with a fair and wide margin.
Men who will detect and spurn a lie, if it is spoken, will
read lies by the hundred, if they are only printed; and
when they read two books which contradict each other
flatly in respect to statements of fact, will wonder how it
can be possible that both should be worthy of credit, and
yet as they are books they must of course be true, though
they cannot see how. Very grave and Christian citizens
-the stiff asserters of law and order-will read arguments
that tend to the destruction of the family, with its sacred
confidence and endearments —which would overturn every
tribunal, unlock every prison, and make murder and arson
as common as a change of the wind, and admire the profoundness of their wisdom. Nay-let it not be spoken
above a whisper-modest and virtuous ladies, who would
blush at an innocent remark, if it happens to be unfortunate or equivocal in its language, will read sentences, nay,
pages, that are equivocal neither in language nor in sentiment, and pronounce them enchanting and delightful.
Let it be observed and remembered, that a book is always written by a man, and that it is never by any magic
or mystery any better than its author makes it to be.
This author may be a wise man or a fool. He may be an
honest man or a knave. He may be a man of the best
intentions, but slightly, or more than slightly, elevated
with a little "too gude a conceit o' himsel'." He may
have something to say which it is worth the while should
be said, and yet not know how to say it. But whatever
he is, or knows, and has the power to communicate, that
will he write down in his book, whether he thereby writes




20             Books and Reading.           [CHAP. Il.
himself down a sage, or writes himself down after the
earnest desire of Justice Dogberry.
When we set ourselves to read a book, what do we do?
We place ourselves in communication with a living man.
We go back with him to the time when he penned the
volume. We think over the thoughts which he then
thought, we sympathize with the feelings which he experienced, we behold the wondrous creations which his
eye, "in fine frenzy rolling," saw enter his door and live
and move about him-the men and women, or the spirits
of heaven and hell, to which he gave being in his mind
then, and which he re-creates in our minds now.
The theme may be God and man's concerns with God:
and we sympathize, it may be, with the inspired Psalmist,
as he utters the language of bitter repentance, of exulting
hope, of unshaken fortitude, or earnest supplication; we
follow the thoughts of the eloquent apostle, who discourses
so sublimely of the loftiest themes; or we listen, in the attitude of love or of worship, to the words of Him who
spake as never man spake. Or perhaps Barrow pours out
before us a redundantly flowing stream of thoughts,
weighty for sense and copious in diction; or Baxter speaks
to our hearts in fiery directness; or Taylor amazes us by
his mellifluent speech and his never-ending imagery; or
South astonishes us by his wit, while he instructs us with
his wisdom. Or, we confer with Bacon, who drops like
pearls those pregnant observations that come home to
"men's business and bosoms," or, after taking us by a
rapid survey over what had already been accomplished in
the field of science, leads us to a. height from which his
prophetic eye can discern fields yet undiscovered. Spenser
conducts us by devious but beguiling wanderings through
the long pilgrimage of " Una and the milk-white lamb,"
till the Fairy Queen and fairy land become real to our
thoughts and familiar to our memory. Shakspeare lets




CrAP. II.l What a Book is, and what it is to read.  21
loose upon us a host of beings, the most wonderful that
were ever created by a human fancy, or that can be gazed
upon by the " mind's eye" of the re-creating reader. Milton opens before us the gates of heaven, and we are dazzled at the magnificence of the scene, overwhelmed by the
splendid array of the angelic host, or confounded by the
glimpses which we catch of the infinite glories of the Uncreated and Eternal. Or
" On a sudden open fly
With impetuous recoil and jarring sound,
Th' infernal doors,"
and the archangel ruined stands before us, with his compeers-sublime in intellect, degraded by sin, scarred and
seared by suffering, yet proud and unsubdued in their
relentless wills. Scott, "the magician of the North,"
marshals before us, with breathless haste, those marvellous
creations of his genius, which are as familiar as household
words. Dickens and Thackeray, "George Eliot" and
Mrs. Oliphant, with many others, send us almost weekly,
regular installments from their brain and bid us review
with them the creations which they produce for our pleasure. Thejournalist or reviewer takes us into his closet,
and discourses to us with wisdom or wildness, in soberness
or extravagance, of the interests that concern the common
weal, or the themes which are uppermost for the hour or
the week.
To read an author is, however, more than to hold communion with a mind in its ordinary state, or by the usual
method of hearing the conversation of a person, even in
his happiest mood. For by the act of writing the mind is
ordinarily raised to its highest energy both of thought and
feeling. It condenses as it were and intensifies itself:
whatever is good into what is doubly good-whatever is
bad into what is doubly bad. It is deliberate. It does
not proceed in haste. If a fact is to be stated, it may be




22             Books and Reading.            [CHAP. II.
examined with care and its truth established.  If an
opinion is to be expressed, it may be looked at from every
side and in all its relations. What is spoken cannot be recalled, but what is written can be revised. The mind in
its calmer mood can qualify and withdraw what it penned
in fervid haste. New thoughts may modify its first conclusions, new energy may be concentered into some sinewy
epithet, and new fervor may be expressed in a "winged
word."
It follows from this, that a book does not merely
represent its author, but it represents the best part of him,
-or it may be the worst. It gives the picture of his inner self in forms enlarged and ideally improved. The colors
are more intense and more finely contrasted than in the reality of his ordinary experience. Hence, reading a man's book
is often worth far more than listening to his conversation.
Hence, too, a good book is of more value to the world
than a good man-for it is the best part of a good manthe good without the evil. Thus when a wise man dies,
while his spirit is living on in one immortal life, he may
be also living another immortality on earth-occupying
perhaps a wider sphere than when he was in the bodyhis thoughts quickening the thoughts of others, as if he
were present to speak them, his feelings inspiring the
noblest feelings of others, and his principles prompting to
worthy deeds after his own last action is done. It was by
more than a figure that Milton wrote, in his Areopagitica:
" for books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain
a progeny of life in them as active as that soul whose
progeny they are; nay, they do preserve as in a vial, the
purest efficacy and extraction of that living intellect that
bred them." " As good almost kill a man as kill a good
book; who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's
image, but he who destroys a good book, kills reason
itself, kills the image of God as it were in the eye,"




CHAP. II.]  What a Book is, and what it is to read.  23
The thought will doubtless occur, that this suggestion
towards answering the questions, "' what is a book, and
what is it to read?" applies to certain classes of books, but
not to all. There are many books, it may be said, which
might as well have been written by an automaton as a man,
-books from which we can by no means gather what kind
of a man produced them-books which have little or no
flavor of the personality of their author. We grant this
of a few books, but the number is smaller than we should
at first suspect, and it is literally true of no book whatever, that its character and value are not greatly determined by the intellect and culture, the honor and
honesty, of the man who made it. The traces of personality are also oftener to be discerned than we imagine.
Not only does the man make the book in more respects
than we are wont to believe, but he can be known and
detected in his book and through his book, more frequently than many readers notice.
A dictionary seems to be removed the farthest from any
savor or aspect of human personality; and yet in any copious dictionary it is not difficult to discover the feelings
and even the prejudices of its author. Those of Dr. Johnson are sufficiently manifest in respect to Excisemen, Pensioners, and his neighbors beyond the Tweed, by his definitions of Excise, Pension, and Oats. Excise he defines as
" A hateful tax, levied on commodities, and adjudged not
by the common judges of property, but wretches hired by
those to whom excise is paid." Pension, he says, is "An
allowance made to any one without an equivalent. In
England it is generally understood to mean pay given to a
state hireling for treason to his country."  Pensioner is
defined to be "A slave of state hired by stipend to obey
his master."  Oats he describes as "A  grain which in
England is generally given to horses, but in Scotland supports the people."  The private opinions of Yoah Web



24               Books and Reading.          [CHAP. II.
ster look out very plainly through the judicial gravity
with which he lays down the law concerning scores of
words; as for example, when he defines Dandy thus: " In
modern usage, a male of the human species who dresses
himself like a doll and who carries his character on his
back."
Every history purports to be an impartial record of
facts, and a faithful transcript of the great truths which
mav be inferred from them. The historian, at the first
thought, might be " set down" as nothing more nor less
than an impersonal chronicler of actual events and facts.
And yet who reads a history, even the most concise or
rigidly impartial, who may not also read in the record of
his facts the record of the author's partialities, and in his
philosophy a transcript of individual prejudices as well as
of universal principles? The pithy Tacitus, by a pungent
epithet and antithetic phrase, does not more effectually
damn some hero in crime to everlasting fame, than he impresses you with a distinct and abiding image of his own
strong and fervid character. Gibbon and Hume, Lingard
and Macaulay, Bancroft and JIildreth, Arnold and
Froude, have not simply written out the story of the
countries which have been their themes, but have also
more or less distinctly recorded an abiding memorial of
their own characters and principles, if indeed they have
not now and then given to the world a distinct expression
of their own prejudices and passions.
The poet, the dramatist, and the novelist may personate
as many characters as they will, and put into the mouths
of their fictitious personages the words most appropriate to
the character of each-words seemingly very far removed
from their own sentiments and feelings; but yet, when it
chances that their own private opinions have to be spoken
or their individual feelings expressed, it will be done with
an energy of words, an intensity of expression, which betrays




CHAP. II.] What a Book is, and what it is to read.  25
them as the author's own. Dante and Milton, Goethe and
Schiller, Byron and Bulwer, introduce upon their shifting
stage an immense variety of characters, and speak or sing
through each of them the thoughts and emotions that
belong to each. Their own genius lies in the power to
forget themselves completely in their characters, or rather
to transform themselves into the heroes whom they personate. But now and then occurs a sentence which is
weighty with a double meaning, because the author speaks
his own cherished opinions through his hero, or a strain
will recur so often and in a character so peculiar, that we
recognize it as the sad refrain of the poet's own sorrow.
Herein is seen the man, and hereby does the individual
man assert his right over the impersonal genius. Scott and
Shakspeare are the least personal and subjective, the most
completely objective and dramatic of all modern writers.
Scott was large-hearted and many-sided enough ordinarily
to lose himself in his characters. But now and then the
reader can detect the humane Scotch sheriff, as well as the
romantic and prejudiced tory, in characters and sayings
in which neither would confess himself to be present.
Shakspeare is rightly called the " myriad-minded:" and it
may be hard to discern the man Shakspeare through the
countless and strange variety of personages into which
lie so successfully transforms himself. But the man will
speak out in the sonnets, which have been thought by many
to have been written in order to satisfy even Shakspeare's
longing at times to write in his own character and to give
utterance to his own individuality. There are serious and
solemn passages in his dramas in which no imitated voice
is uttered: in which it is no masked histrionist who
speaks, but Shakspeare's self utters sentiments and emotions that he could not repress. It is almost idle to observe that neither Dickens nor Thackeray, Trollope nor
George Eliot, can always hide themselves in the motley of




26              Books and Reading.          [CaAP. lI.
men whom their fancy has created. Coleridge and Southey,
Wordsworth and Tennyson, usually sing their own songs,
and from a loving, or, it may be, a saddened heart. We may
truly utter the seeming paradox, that while it is the proof
and triumph of genius to be able to overcome and overrule
the individual man, yet where the genius is not rooted in,
and does not grow out of the intense affections and the
earnest character of the writer's own individuality, he
shows the art of a dexterous histrionist rather than the
earnestness of a great nature.
As for those authors who write to amuse the public, the
perpetrators of humor of all sorts, and the producers of
every variety of bagatelle to suit the reading-market, it is
not easy for the man to hide his individuality behind the
mask which he assumes, however grotesque and comical
that mask may be. The features of the man will always
shine through the mask-if indeed there be a man beneath it. For very great is the difference whether it be a
clown or a man which is behind-whether we see, through
the disguise, the look half-vacant and half-villainous of
which the venal and frivolous Bohemian can never rid
himself, with all his tact and art, or the broad swimming
eyes of love, with which Hood always looked out through
his fun, or the sad earnestness into which Lamb relaxed
so soon as he had stammered out his joke or his pun.
It is scarcely needful to add that essayists and critics,
the authors of moral, political and religious tracts and
books, are supposed of course to write their own opinions,
which, though they be also the opinions of large masses of
men, will be shaded by the color and hue of the minds
from which they come, and be warmed with the feelings
which glow in the hearts of all thoughtful and eloquent
souls.
Let it not be thought for a moment, that the assertions-that a book is written by a man, and is just




CHAP. II.] What a Book is, and what it is to read.  27
what its author makes it to be, and that to read a book is
to converse with a living man-are barren truisms. We
believe them to be fertile in important suggestions, and
that if held fast in the mind they will serve as a clue to
guide us safely and wisely through the labyrinth of books
— which may mislead and bewilder as well as amuse and
ennoble. We invite the reader's attention to the suggestions
which may be derived from them.
These thoughts may suggest the principles which we
need to guide us as we judge of books and read themand may help us distinguish the books which are books,
from those which are only " things in books' clothing," as
well as teach us how to make the best use of those which
are books indeed.




CHAPTER III.
ROWf TO READ-ATTENTION IN READING.
LET US then take our clue in hand and follow it out,
feeling our way along, in the suggestions and applications
to which it will naturally conduct us.
It is thought a great feat for a child to learn to read.
The process is not a trivial one which is accomplished
every day, and is going on in our nurseries and schoolhouses, by which the infant learns to distinguish letters,
to spell them into words, to look through written characters, to interpret words into thoughts and feelings, and do
all these so readily that the skill seems literally to have
"come 1by nature."  It is indeed a great feat, as we see
plainly when a full-grown man or woman attempts it for
the first time, and as we mark the slow and painful steps
by which such persons must halt and stumble for years, in
order to master the mechanical part of the process. It is
very rightly thought to be a most important step that
is gained when either the child or the man has finished
this apprenticeship, and to make a great difference with
him to have overcome these obstacles. But why is it so
important?  What makes the difference so great?  Who
asks: what is all this for, and how may a man best use the
power which is thus gained? It is not enough to say that
it enables a person to transact business, to read his own accounts and letters from other people, to know what is going on at New York or Washington, to pore over newspapers, to gape over a few tales of blood and murder, or now
and then to extract a thought from a good book on Sunday.
If this were all, it were indeed worth all the cost, as the
28




CHAP. III.] How to read:-Attention in Reading.   29
experience and the common sense of the world shows. The
transactions and intercourse of civilized life depend on this
acquisition; and the unconscious discipline of civilized mnan
that comes from the process, even in the limited and careless uses to which it is applied, reward the pains-taking a
thousand-fold.
But suppose the question were asked more distinctly and
more frequently: How may the power thus attained be
used to the best advantage, and what are the uses to which
it may be applied? Shall we say or think that the instrument is too common to admit of improvement?  Then
would one method of plowing be as good as another, and
one plow would be as good as another; when all the world
knows that from good plows and good plowing-to say
nothing of the best looms and best weaving-come the
wealth and luxury and civilization of millions of men.
If the applications to which a common instrument may be
turned are of no consequence whatever, then are potatoes
as good as wheat because both are products of the plow,
and the coarsest serge is as desirable as broadcloth from
Leeds or silk from Lyons.
But all this is too obvious to need an argument or illustration; yet it is well to bestow a thought on truths so
simple, for sometimes we are surprised by their extensive
reach and even their tremendous import. Surely if a man
should form and use principles in regard to any subject,
he should form and use them in respect to what and how
he reads, and for what ends. If life is not all a holiday or
a day dream, then reading should be pursued in an earnest
and reflecting spirit. For he that opens a book does by
this very act begin to converse with a man-good, bad or
indifferent as the case may be-with a man perhaps in his
very best or worst phase or condition. If then you would
scorn to take lessons or receive influences from an ignoramus, a knave, or a known deceiver and seducer of the




30              Books and Reading.          [cuAP. III.
good; why not scorn to come nearer to any such man by
reading what is the image, the expression, nay perhaps the
essence or embodiment of himself?  If, when you are admitted to the society of a wise or amusing man who gives
instruction or entertainment in a winning and graceful
manner, you think it important to be wakeful in his
society and to catch and weigh every word; why should
you- not feel the same necessity when he speaks to you
through the written page? And yet how many neglect the
whole matter of what books they or their children read, or
suffer it to take its chance, for evil or for good! Very
good persons who would be slow to provide unwholesome
or poisonous food, or to associate with mean or dangerous
men, do both these things by the books with which they
and their families come into close and frequent contact.
They and their children read such books as come in their
way, or are talked about, or are cheap, or attractive. Or, if
they are careful in choosing books, they have little care as
to the way in which they read them. This is not as it
should be. It may involve a fearful and lasting wrong.
If a man has but little time to read, he has no right to
allow these golden hours of his life to be wasted and worse
than wasted. If he reads a great deal, he has no right to
allow influences which are silently but most powerfully
affecting his whole character, to be what the chance or the
mood of the hour decides them-to bring disease or health,
life or death, to that which makes him a man. These influences might be most healthful and exhilarating; they
might do much to make him a better, a more cheerful and
self-relying man: and yet his time, it may be, is dawdled
away in reading he knows not what, or in reading a good
book in such a way that he knows not what he has read, any
more than one can tell what he has said after being jaded
by an evening party or wasted by a round of morningcalls.




CHAP. III.]  How to read: —Attention in Reading.  31
Reading ought not to be aimless, even though its aim
be to while away an hour. And reading when allowed
for the merest relaxation is not exempt from the guidance
of principles and, if need be, the restraints of conscience.
As to habits of reading, and the attitude with which we
are accustomed to present ourselves before our book and
its.author, these are of so great importance that our
success or failure in the use of books is determined by
them. We are not so stupid or pedantic as to desire to
form the reading of two persons after the same model, or
to Jay down formal rules, for the mechanical adjustment
and direction of the mental processes. But we earnestly
desire to awaken each person to the dignity of forming his
own rules for reading; and of making his converse with
books to contribute to and to grow from a character that is
individual because it is formed by reflection.
The first rule which we prescribe is: read with attention.
This is the rule that takes precedence of all others. It
stands instead of a score of minor directions. Indeed it
comprehends them all, and is the golden rule. To gain
the power and habit of attention, is the great difficulty to
be overcome by young readers when they begin. The one
reason why reading is so dull to multitudes of active and
eager minds is that they have not acquired the habit of attending to books. The eye may be fastened upon the page,
and the mind may follow the lines, and yet the mind not be
half awake to the thoughts of the author, or the best half of
its energies may be abroad on some wandering errand. The
one evil that comes from omnivorous and indiscriminate
reading is that the attention is wearied and overborne by
the multitude of the objects that pass before it; that the
miserable habit is formed and strengthened of seeming to
follow the author when he is half comprehended, of
vacantly gazing upon the page that serves just to occupy




32              Books and Reading.          [CHAP. III.
and excite the fancy without leaving distinct and lasting
impressions.
It was said of Edmund Burke, who was a great reader
and a great thinker also, that he read every book as if he
were never to see it a second time, and thus made it his
own, a possession for life. Were his example imitated,
much time would be saved that is spent in recalling things
half remembered, and in taking up the stitches of lQst
thoughts. A greater loss than that of time would be
avoided: the loss of the dignity and power which are possessed by him who keeps his mind tense, active and wakeful. It is very common to give the rule thus,- " Whatever
is worth reading at all, is worth reading well." If by
" well " is intended with the utmost stretch of attention, it
is not literally true, for there are books which serve for
pastime and amusement, books which can be run through
when we are more or less fagged or ill,and cannot and
ought not to put forth our utmost energies of body and
mind. Then there are books which we may look through,
as a merchant runs over the advertisements in a newspaper
— taking up the thoughts that interest and concern us
especially, as the magnet takes and holds the iron filings
that are scattered through a handful of sand. But if every
part of a book be equally worthy our regard, as the
writings of Arnold, Grote, Merivale, Gibbon, Burke, Webster, Milton, Shakspeare, or Scott, then should the entire energy of attention be aroused during the time of
reading. The page should be read as if it were never to
be seen a second time; the mental eye should be fixed as if
there were no other object to think of; the memory should
grasp the facts, (i. e.) the dates, incidents, etc., like a vise;
the impressions should be distinctly and sharply received;
the feelings should glow intensely at all that is worthy and
burn with indignation at everything which is bad. For
the want of this habit, thoroughly matured and made per



CHAP. III.]  How to read: —Attention in Reading.  33
nlanent, time is wasteO, negligent habits are formed, the
powers of the mind are systematically weakened by the
very exercise which should give them strength, and reading, which ought to arouse and strengthen the intellect,
produces, with many, no deeper and more abiding impression than the shifting pictures of a magic lantern, or the
fantastic groupings of the kaleidoscope —first a bewildering
show, then confusion and vacancy.
There is now-a-days a special danger from this inattention. So many books are written, which are good enough in
their way, and yet are the food for easy, 4. e. lazy, reading,
and they are so cheap withal; so much excitement prevails
in respect to them, that an active mind is in danger of
knowing many things superficially and nothing well, of
being driven through one volume after another with such
breathless haste as to receive few clear impressions and no
lasting influences.
Passive reading is the evil habit against which most
readers need to be guarded, and to overcome which, when
formed, requires the most manful and persevering efforts.
The habit is the natural result of a profusion of books and
the indolence of our natures and our times, which desires
to receive thoughts, —or more exactly pictures, many of
which are thin, hazy, and evanescent —rather than vigorously to react against them by an effort that thinks them
over and makes them one's own. It is the intellectual dyspepsia which is induced by a plethora of intellectual diet, if
that may be called intellectual which is the weak dilution
of thought. Almost better not read at all, than to read in
such a way. Certainly it is better to be forced to steal
a half-hour from sleep, after a day of bodily toil,
or to depend for your reading on an hour at a midday nooning when your fellow-laborers are asleep, if you
but fix your whole mind on what you read, than to dawdle
away weeks and months in turning over the leaves of
3




34               Books and Reading.          [CHAP. III.
hundreds of volumes in search for something new, which
is feebly conceived, as lazily dismissed, and as stupidly
forgotten. Better read one history, one poem, or one
novel, well, if it takes a year to despatch it at stolen intervals of time, than lazily to consume twelve hours of the
day in a process which wastes the time, and, what is worse,
wastes the intellect, the fancy, and the living soul.
But how is the attention to be controlled?  How canl
this miserable passiveness be prevented or overcome?
Rules in great number have been prescribed. All sorts of
directions have been devised. An ingenious author has
advised that each sentence should be read through at a
single breath; the breath being retained until the sentence
is finished. Some advise to read with the pen in hand;
others to make a formal analysis of every volume; others
to repeat to ourselves, or to recite to others, the substance
of each page and chapter. These, and other devices, are
all of service in their way, and some of them we will consider in their appropriate place. But their chief value
turns upon this, that they induce an interest or require an
interest, either direct or indirect, in the subject-matter
which is read. Whatever awakens the interest will be
certain to fix and hold the attention. The hired lad in the
country who steals an hour from sleep or rest, that he may
get on a few pages in the odd volume of Plutarch or
Rollin, which, having fallen in his way, has begun to unfold before his astonished gaze the till then unknown
history of the ancient world; the errand-boy of the city,
who stands trembling at the book-stall, lest the surly proprietor should cut short his borrowed pleasure from the
page which he devours; these need no artificial devices to
teach them to hold the mind to the book, or to retain its
contents. The great secret of their attention is to be found
in the fresh interest with which they lay hold of the
thoughts of the pictured page, and this remains ever




CRAP. III.]   Iorv to read:-Attention in Reading.  35
the great secret of the habit of successful reading even to
the mind that has been disciplined to the most amazing
feats of application. There are no arts of attention, no arts
of memory, which can be compared with this natural and
certain condition of success.
Daniel Webster was one of the most earnest and intelligenf of readers all his life long. His favorite authors
were read and re-read with a passionate fondness. His
critical conversations upon the standard poets and essayists and orators of the English tongue are still remembered
and quoted by those who were present to hear when the
mood and opportunity of discourse were upon him. In one
of the last evenings of his life he beguiled the weariness of
his attendants by reciting a poem from Cowper. How he
came to be so successful and so intelligent a reader is explained in his autobiography. Whatever he read he read
so often and so earnestly that he learned to repeat it.
"We had so few books," he says, " that to read them
once or twice was nothing; we thought they were all to be
got by heart."  A. small circulating library had been established in the neighborhood by his father and other persons, and among the books which he obtained from it was
the Spectator.  " I could not understand why it was necessary that the author of the Spectator should take
such great pains to prove that Chevy Chase was a good
story; that was the last thing I doubted." I-e tells us, " In
those boyish days there were two things which I did dearly love, viz: reading and playing-passions which did not
cease to struggle when boyhood was over."
The man or boy who reads with attention thus quickened
cannot read amiss if what he reads is worth perusing. Of
his habits when a student he says: "AMany other students
read more than I did and knew more than I did. But so
much as I read I made my own. When a half hour or an
hour at most had elapsed, I stored my book, and thought on




36.Books and Reading.          [CIIAP. III.
what I had read. If there was anything peculiarly interesting or striking in the passage, I endeavored to recall it
and lay it up in my memory, and commonly could effect
my object."
Sir Edward Sugden explained to Sir Thomas Fowell
Buxton the secret of his professional success in the following
words: "I resolved when beginning to read law, to make
everything I acquired perfectly my own, and never to go
to a second thing till I had entirely accomplished the first.
Many of my competitors read as much in a day as I read
in a week, but at the end of the twelve months my knowledge was as fresh as on the day it was acquired, while
theirs had glided away from their recollection." Mem. of
Sir T. F. Buxton, ch. xxiv.
He who would read with attention must learn to be
interested in what he reads. He must feel wants or learn
to create wants which must be supplied. If it be history
that he would read with attention, he must feel deficiencies
that will not let him rest till they are supplied; he must
be moved by a desire that will command its object. Is it
poetry or fiction? IHe must be excited by a restless appetite that longs to be amused with new pictures, or diverted
by humorous scenes, or stirred by lofty ideals, or charmed
by poetic melody, and that grows by what it feeds on.
And the man must master, and not be mastered by, his increasing stock of knowledge and his treasured products of
the imagination. He must exercise great and still greater
energy in judging and applying the acquisitions he has
made, making them accompany his musings, feed his
memory, animate his principles, and guide his life.




CHAPTER IV.
HOW TO READ WITH INTEREST AND EFFECT.
WE-have seen that a book is the creation of a living
man, and should be regarded and judged somewhat as a
man himself is tried and estimated. A few books are
indeed almost impersonal, and might have been written by
one man as readily as by another. These are to be judged
chiefly by their value, i. e., by what they contain. But
most books express more or less of the personality of their
authors; and in reading them, we come in contact with
living men. Good books, besides the value of what they
contain and impart, have a positive worth in their effect on
the principles, feelings and character.
If this is true, then in reading we are properly said to
come into communication with a human being, who will
either instruct and elevate, or mislead and degrade us.
From these fundamental conceptions of Books and Reading,
we have begun to derive our rules for the selection of the
books which we read, and for our own behaviour in using
them. WVe have also seen that, for success in reading, we
must read with attention, and to read with attention,
we must read with an awakened and sustained interest.
Though this interest when awakened must be regulated by
the rules of prudence and duty, yet it often needs to be
enkindled and sustained, if we are to read with attention
and profit. It becomes then a question of prime concern
how we can so arouse, sustain and direct our interest in the
books which we read as to make our reading most effective
for good. In answer to this somewhat comprehensive inquiry, we reply:




38             Books and Reading.           [CHAP. IV.
1. If we are at a loss what to read, or if we can think
of nothing which we desire especially to, read, it is well to
ask ourselves what we care most to learn or to think of.
No questions are more frequently pressed than these:
"What shall I read? What shall I read next? With what
books shall I begin a course of reading? What do you
think will interest me?"  Sometimes a person asks these
questions of himself. More frequently he addresses them
to another. The best answers which can be given to them
are suggested by other questions like these: "What are
you most interested to know? In what particulars does
your ignorance most disturb or annoy you? With what
class of facts and thoughts, principles or emotions would
it please you best to be conversant?"  If a person can
answer these questions with any satisfaction to himself, he
is in the way of knowing what books he ought first to read.
For if he cannot without assistance find the book which he
ought first to lay hold of. he can be more easily directed
by another, when his adviser knows what he cares most to
know or what excites his keenest appetite.
The great difficulty with the majority of readers is, that
their sense is indefinite of any wants which books can
supply, or their desire to supply these wants is feeble. Or,
if they are aware of their deficiencies in the general, they
have neither the courage nor the patience to know them
in the detail, and manfully to' set about the work of
removing them. To many persons the wants which books
alone can supply are themselves either created or brought
to light by the use of books. Miany a man needs first to
read and to read with interest, in order to have awakened
in his soul a thirst for books and a taste for reading.
There are however not a few who through a sense of
ignorance, or shame when brought in contact with those
better read than themselves, or through some other lucky
though perhaps rude shock to their self-conceit and self



CHAP. IV.] IHlow to read with Interest and Efect.  39
content, are suddenly fired with a desire for knowledge
from books. Of history they begin to have some inkling,
and feel the first desire to learn the story of their own
township, their own family, their own nation or their own
race. Of eloquence they have some idea, and they seek to
be excited by written oratory. Poetry may have moved
their ears with its rhythmic melody or charmed their souls
with its wizard imagery. The drama or the novel may
have startled and enchanted them by its pictured pages.
Or perhaps the person who asks, "What shall I read?' or
"With what shall I begin?" may have read and studied for
years in a mechanical routine, and with a listless spirit;
with scarcely an independent thought, with no plans of
self-improvement, and few aspirations for self-culture. To
all these classes the advice is full of meaning: " Read what
will satisfy your wants and appease your desires, and you
will comply with the first condition to reading with interest
and profit."  Hunger and thirst are better than manifold
appliances and directions, in respect to other than the
bodily wants, towards a good appetite and a healthy
digestion. If a man has any self-knowledge or any power
of self-direction, he is surely competent to ask himself,
what is the subject or subjects, in respect to which he
stands most in need of knowledge or excitement from
books. If he can answer this question he has gone very
far towards answering the question, "What book or books
can I read with satisfaction and profit?"
2. It follows by a necessary inference that every man
should aim first of all to read and master all the books
wvhich relate directly or indirectly to his profession or business in life.  If a man is alive to any subject whatever, it
is to his chosen occupation in life, and to whatever promises
its eawier working or more successful issue. If he dislikes
his business, if he frets at and fights it, then God only can
help him. On such a man human counsel and human aid




40              Books and Reading.          [CHAP. IV.
must be thrown away; much more must books and reading,
if they cannot bring him to acquiesce in his business or to
change it. But if a man has something to do day by day
in which he strives after the skill which leads to success,
and if he can learn anything about it from books, he cannot but read such books as will instruct him, with an excited
and prolonged interest.   No novelist is held to the
charmed page of fiction, no rhapsodist reads and re-reads
his favorite poet, with the keen and excited attention with
which a man thoroughly aroused by some difficulty in his
occupation or his circumstances, resorts to the treatise or
the encyclopaedia, the journal or the newspaper, which
promises to answer the question which he is anxiously
pondering.  Let a farmer have brooded over the unaccountable loss of his wheat or potato crop, or have anxiously inquired what will restore the blight which is beginning to attack his favorite peach or pear tree, and he devours the printed pages that prescribe a remedy or promise
relief. If a mechanic is at fault in his work, and finds his
machinery fails to do the service for which it is designed,
hlie feels no lack of interest and suffers under no failure of
attention while he is consulting the books which promise
to instruct him.  Let either learn that by extensive reading he can gain an insight into the secret of certain and
progressive success, and he will read widely in relation to
his business with an ever-increasing and intensified enthusiasm.  The madness of the so-called book-farmers and
inventive enthusiasts, illustrates the truth which we assert,
that if a man would learn to read with interest and attention, he should first of all read much in respect to his calling in life.  If he is a farmer, he should read books of
agriculture; if a mechanic, books on machinery; if a
banker, books on banking and finance: whatever be his
calling, he should make it the one subject upon which he
will read, if he reads upon nothing else. In this way he




CHAP. IV.]   How to read with Interest and Efect.   41
will elevate his calling, from being a slavish and enslaving
drudgery, into a rational discipline, not only for immediate
profit but for manly cultivation.  He will not only feed
and cherish his body, and enlarge his comforts and luxuries by his better instructed toil, but he will discipline his
intellect and elevate his soul by the thinking and reasoning which his reading will require. He will waken into
life that within himself which is higher than his occupation
or profession, and that is his thinking and feeling self.
He will find in himself that which is more than the farmer,
the trader, or the mechanic, and that is the manhood that
he has and which he is bound to think of and care for.
The wants and desires, the hopes and the aspirations which
pertain to the man will be gradually awakened, and will
connect him with the thoughts and feelings of other men as
these are expressed in books, till it may be that books shall
become one of the necessaries of his life, and reading, instead of being a listless and constrained employment, shall
be his chosen occupation, his best society, his most delightful amusement, and perhaps his sweetest solace and comfort in dark and bitter hours.
3. In reading, we do well to propose to ourselves definite ends and purposes. The more distinctly we are aware
of our own wants and desires in reading, the more definite
and permanent will be our acquisitions.  Hence it is a
good rule to ask ourselves frequently, "Why am I reading
this book, essay or poem; or why am I reading it at the
present time rather than any other?" It may often be a
satisfying answer, that it is convenient; that the book
happens to be at hand; or that we read to pass away the
time. Such reasons are often very good, but they ought
not always to satisfy us. Yet the very habit of proposing
these questions, however they may be answered, will involve the calling of ourselves to account for our reading,
and the consideration of it in the light of wisdom and




42               Books and Reading.          [CHAP. IV.
duty. The distinct consciousness of some object at present
before us, imparts a manifold greater interest to the contents of any volume.  It imparts to the reader an appropriative power, a force of affinity, by which he insensibly and unconsciously attracts to himself all that has a
near or even a remote relation to the end for which he
reads. Any one is conscious of this who reads a story with
the purpose of repeating it to an absent friend; or an essay
or a report with the design of using its facts or arguments
in a debate; or a poem with the design of reviving its imagery, and reciting its finest passages.  Indeed one never
learns to read effectively until he learns to read in such a
spirit-not always indeed for a definite end, yet always
with a mind attent to appropriate and retain and turn to
the uses of culture, if not to a more direct application. The
private history of every self-educated man from Franklin
onwards attests that they all were uniformly not only earnest but select in their reading, and that they selected their
books with distinct reference to the purposes for which they
used them.  Indeed the reason why self-trained men so
often surpass men who are trained by others in the effectiveness and success of their reading, is that they know
for what they read and study, and have definite aims and
wishes in all their dealings with books. The omnivorous and indiscriminate reader who is at the same time a
listless and passive reader, however ardent is his curiosity, can never be a reader of the most effective sort.
4. Another good rule is suggested by the foregoing.
Always have some solid reading in hand, i. e. some work or
author which we carry forward from one day to another,
or one hour of leisure to the next, with persistence till we
have finished whatever we have undertaken. There are
many great and successful readers who do not observe this
rule, but it is a good rule notwithstanding. The writer
once called upon one of the most extensive and persevering




CHAP. IV.]  How to read with Interest and Effect.  43
of modern travelers at an early hour of the day to attend
him upon a walk to a distant village. It was after breakfast, and though he had but few minutes at command he
was sitting with book in hand-a book of solid history,
he was perusing day after day. He remarked: " This has
been my habit for years in all my wanderings. It is the
one habit which gives solidity to my intellectual activities
and imparts tone to my life. It is only in this way that I
can overcome and counteract the tendency to the dissipation of my powers and the distraction of my attention, as
strange persons and strange scenes present themselves from
day to day."  To the rule already given —read with a definite aim-we could add the rule-make your aims to be
definite by continuously holding them rigidly to a single
book at all times, except when relaxation requires you to
cease to work and to live for amusement and play. Always
have at least one iron in the fire, and kindle the fire at least
once every day.
5. It is implied in the preceding, that we should read
upon definite subjects, and with a certain method and
proportion in the choice of our books.  If we have a single object to accomplish in our reading for the present,
that object will of necessity direct the choice of what we
read, and we shall arrange our reading with reference to
this single end. This will be a nucleus around which our
reading will for the moment naturally gather and arrange
itself. If several subjects seem to us equally important
and interesting, we should dispose of them in order, and
give to each for the time our chief and perhaps our exclusive attention.- That this is wise is so obvious as not to require illustration. "One thing at a time," is an accepted condition for all efficient activity, whether it is employed upon
things or thoughts, upon nTen or books. If five or ten separate topics have equal claim upon our interest and attention,
we shall do to each the amplest justice, if we make each




44               Books and Reading.           [coAP. IV.
in its turn the central subject of our reading. There is little
danger of weariness or monotony from the workings of
such a rule. Most single topics admit or require a considerable variety of books, each different from the other and
each supplementing the otlher. Hence it is one of the best
of practices in prosecuting a courseN of reading, to read
every author who can cast any light upon the subject
which we have in hand. For example if we are reading
the history of the Great Rebellion in England, we should
read if we can, not a single author only, as Clarendon,
but a half-dozen or a half-score, each of whom writes from
his own point of view, supplies what another omits, or corrects what he under or overstates. But, besides the formal
histories of the period, there are the various novels, the
scenes and characters of which are placed in those times,
such as Scott's WYoodstock; there are also. diaries, such as
those by Evelyn, Pepys and Burton; and there are memoirs, such as those of Col. Hutchinson, while the last two
have been imitated in scores of fictions. There are poems,
such as those of Andrew Marvel,. Milton and Dryden.
There are also shoals of political tracts and pamphlets, of
hand-bills and caricatures. We name these various descriptions of works and classes of reading, not because we suppose all of them are accessible to those readers who live at
a distance from large public libraries, or because we would
advise every one who may have access to such libraries, to
read all these books and classes of books as a matter of
course, but because we would illustrate how great is the variety of books and reading matter that are grouped around
a single topic and are embraced within a single period.
Every person must judge for himself how long a time he
can bestow upon any single subject, or how many and
various are the books in respect to it which it is wise to
read; but of this every one may be assured, that it is far
easier, far more agreeable and far more economical of time




CIAP. IV.]   How to read with Interest and Effect.   45
and energy, to concentrate the attention upon a single
subject at a time than to extend it to half a score, and
that six books read in succession or together upon a single
topic, are far more interesting and profitable than twice as
many which treat of topics remotely related. A lady well
known to the writer, of the least possible scholarly pretensions or literary notoriety, spent fifteen months of leisure
snatched by fragments from onerous family cares and brilliant social engagements, in reading the history of Greece as
written by a great variety of authors and as illustrated by
many accessories of literature and art. Nor should it be
argued that such rules as these or the habits which they
enjoin are suitable for scholars only or for people who have
much leisure for reading. It should rather be urged, that
those who, can read the fewest books and who have at
command the scantiest time, should aim to read with the
greatest concentration and method; should occupy all of
their divided energy with single centres of interest, and
husband the few  hours which they can command, in
reading whatever converges to a definite because to a
single impression.
6. Special efforts should be made to retain what is
gathered from reading, if any such efforts are required.
Some persons read with an interest so wakeful and responsive, and an attention so fixed and energetic as to need no
appliances and no efforts in order to retain what they read.
They look upon a page and it is imprinted upon the memory. They follow the thoughts and trace the words and
understand the sentences of their author and these remain
with them as permanent possessions. Images, descriptions,
eloquent passages, well sounding and rhythmic lines in
poetry or prose, can all be spontaneously and accurately
reproduced; or if words and illustrations are forgotten and
lost, principles, truths and impressions will remain and
cannot be effaced. Every book which such persons read




46               Books and Reading.           [CHAP. IV.
enters into the structure of their being-it is taken up and
assimilated into the very substance of their living selves.
Every paragraph in a newspaper with every fact which it
records or truth which it illustrates, is turned to some
permanent account and remains as a lasting acquisition.
But there are others who read only to lose and to forget.
Facts and truths, words.and thoughts are alike evanescent.
We shall not attempt to explain here the nature of these
differences. We are concerned only to devise the remedy:
we insist that those who labor under these difficulties
should use special appliances to avoid or overcome them.
But that upon which we insist most of all, is that what we
read we should seek to make our own, only in the manner
and after the measure of which we are capable. Each reader
should follow the natural bent and aptitudes of his own
individual nature. If we have not a good verbal memory,
it is almost in vain that we seek to remember choice phrases
and sentences, happy turns of expression, admirable bits of
eloquent speech, or striking stanzas and lines of inspiring or
moving poetry. We may read them again and again, we
may admire them with increasing fervor, we may return
to them with an ever augmented interest, but we shall make
little progress in remembering them so as to be able to
recite them. If we have a feeble capacity for the retention
of dates and facts as such, unless they interest our feelings
or illustrate principles, the utmost pains-taking will do
little to help us to retain facts when isolated or uninteresting, or numbers when they signify nothing but so many
figures. We do not advise a man laboring under these
inaptitudes to fight against nature or to fall into a querulous,
discouraged or fretful quarrel with himself, because, as he
says, he cannot remember what he reads. Nor when we
enjoin upon him to use special efforts to remember, do we
intend that he shall be more interested in his efforts to
remember than he is interested in what he is to remember.




CHAP. IV.] flow to read with Interest and Effect.  47
We advise just the opposite. But we contend that when
a man reads he should put himself into the most intimate
intercourse with his author, so that all his energies of apprehension, judgment and feeling may be occupied with
and aroused by what his author furnishes, whatever it may
be. If repetition or review will aid him in this, as it often will, let him not disdain or neglect firequent reviews.
If the use of the pen in brief or full notes, in catch-words
or other symbols will aid him, let him not shrink from the
drudgery of the pen and the common-place book. If he is
aided to discern and retain the logical connections of an
argument or a discourse by drawing them out in a complete
skeleton or analysis, let him prosecute the dissection without flinching. If a re-survey of the parts will give him a
comprehensive view of the method of the whole let him
complete his analyses with the utmost care and arrange
their products in a new  and symmetrical order. But
there is no charm or efficacy in such mechanism by itself.
It is only valuable as a means to an end, and that end is
to quicken the intellectual energies by arousing and holding
the attention. It is by awakening and energizing the
reason-by concentrating and arousing the feelings that it
can serve any very useful purpose. To remember what
we read we must make it our own: we must think witil
the author, rethinking his thoughts, following his facts,
assenting to or rejecting his reasonings, and entering into
the very spirit of his emotions and purposes.




CHAPTER V.
THE RELATIONS OF THE READER TO HIS AUTHOR.
THE considerations presented already as well as the fundamental conceptions of books and reading with which we
set off in our search of rules and methods, enforce upon us
the truth that effective reading depends most of all on the
relations in which the reader finds himself, or into which he
can bring himself, with respect to his author. If these relations are those of incongruity or of repellency, they will be
more or less fatal to all profitable reading. The fault may
be in the reader, or the fault may be in the author, or it
may lie partly with the one and partly with the other, but
if the fault exists, it will go far to defeat the best results
which might otherwise follow. Accordingly, our interest in
and our attention to what we read, and therefore our success in reading depend very largely on the authors whom
we read. A book which is very suitable for one person
may for this reason be entirely unfitted for another. The
same book which is suitable at one time, or at a certain
age, -or with a certain degree of development or culture,
may be entirely unsuitable to the same person in another
mood, at another age, and after greater progress and culture. Thus the consideration of the manner in which we
should read, in a certain sense depends upon what we read.
The discussion of how we may read with efect, depends
largely upon what we read, and involves the consideration
of the principles and rules by which we should select our
authors. Upon this topic we observe:
1. That in order to read with interest and attention we
48




VCAP. V.]  The Relations of the Reader to his Author.  49
should choose an author from whom we can gain something. We do not say from whom we can learn something,
for we do not hold that it is the duty of all authors to
teach something in the way of fact or argument in order to
be useful or interesting. Many books serve to amuse and
impress as well as to inform and convince. Those authors
are as useful who enforce and inspire, as those who enlighten and instruct. The novel that leaves us with a glow
of contentment and thankfulness, that inspires us with a
warm resolve to struggle with an unequal lot or to be contented and cheerful under adverse fortune, that confirms
our faith in goodness and our trust in God, may be quite
as useful as the treatise which enforces some new principle
in finance, the history which clears up some disputed question of fact, or the argument which sets forever at rest some
dispute upon a point of public policy, or even the sermon
which proves or enforces some theological truth. A tale
that fills an invalid with cheerful thoughts or whiles away
a weary hour with pleasant pictures, is as useful as the
most formal demonstration of a questioned proposition. A
poem that elevates the soul, excites the imagination, kindles the emotions, and rouses the aspirations may be worth
more to myriads of readers than scores of so-called books
of fact and argument, or even of books of exhortation and
edification.
But with this enlarged conception of the kind and
variety of profit which we may expect from an author, we
are more completely justified in requiring of every author
who solicits our attention:whether he has anything to
give us, i. e., whether we shall gain anything by reading
his book. If he can neither teach us anything which we
do not know, nor convince us of anything of which we are
in doubt, nor strengthen our faith in what we already
receive, nor set old truths in new lights, nor warm our
feelings into noble earnestness, nor entertain us with whole4




50              Books and Reading.           [CHAP. V.
some jokes nor excite us to honest laughter, then he is not
the man and his is, not the book for us.  Whatever he
and his book may be to others, they have no claims upon
us, and we should be quite ready to show both the door.
Stupid commonplace, pretentious twaddle, weak sentimentalism, feeble reasoning, confused narrative, silly novels,
ambitious poetry, are not to be read except on compulsion, as
in a desperately rainy day, in a lonesome cabin, when a
last year's almanac or a thrice-conned newspaper have
yielded up their last returns of nutriment and succulence.
RBut in such a case the storm must forbid a walk, and
there should be not even an intelligent spaniel or a playful
kitten to furnish society. A stupid or senseless book is
thrice as stupifying as a stupid man. A vain, ignorant
and ambitious piece of writing has none of those redeeming
features which a humane and charitable spirit will.find
in a vain, ignorant and ambitious person. If then I am
to read anything with interest, I must be introduced -to an
author who can do me some good. If his book can teach
or convince or ennoble or amuse me, then it may be
reasonably expected that I should be aroused to an interested
and wakeful attention. The conditio sine qua non of
earnest interest in reading is to find something which is
worth the reading. Said a youngster to a humorous old
New England preacher, "I observe that your parishioners
listen very attentively to your preaching." "I uniformly
aim to give them something which is worth attending to,"
was the curt reply. "The man whom I like to converse
with above all others," said Daniel Webster, "is the man
who can teach me something." If every reader would
estimate, select and use his books by this rule, there would
be far less listless, lazy and profitless reading than there is.
What would befall large portions of many of our newspapers, and what use could possibly be applied to much of




CHAP. V.]  The Relations of the Reader to his Author.  51
the time which many of their readers dawdle away over
them, it is no concern of ours to determine.
2. It follows that we should read with a certain degree
of deference and docility to our author. If we do an
author the honor to confer with him through his book,
for the supposed pleasure or advantage which his society
will afford us, we ought to observe toward him the courtesies of polite intercourse. By the act of reading him we
profess a respect for the thoughts and feelings which he
expresses through the printed page, and we ought to
maintain toward him that attitude of deference and courtesy
which consistency requires. If we do not weigh his arguments with candor and accept his facts with confidence, if
we do not yield our feelings to his control by that pliant
sympathy which is requisite for the enjoyment of his enthusiasm, his wit or his eloquence; if instead of this deferential temper we are captious, critical and hard to be
convinced -or moved, we had better dismiss the author from
our presence by closing his book. It is far more civil to
our author and more profitable to ourselves to dispose of
him with a courteous bow than it is to detain him with a
discontented air and a captious temper. It were better to
be content with our own thinking than to treat the thoughts
of another so unjustly and ill-naturedly. We had better
even act after the rule quoted by Charles Lamb, "To mind
the inside of a book is to entertain one's self with the forced
product of another man's brain. Now I think a man of
quality and breeding may be much amused with the natural
sprouts of his own." As a general rule we had better not
read an author from whom we cannot derive some important benefit and with whom we cannot sympathize at least
in some particulars. Theremay be special reasons for breaking this rule. Those who read for investigation, for criticism or for refutation, are often obliged to deviate from it.
But such exceptions justify and enforce the rule in a gen



52                  Books and Reading.                  [CHAP.V.
eral way for all those who read  chiefly to enrich their
minds, to confirm their faith, to enlarge their knowledge
and to elevate and kindle their aspirations.  Mrs. Browning has said, and doubtless from her own experience,
"We get no good
By being ungenerous even to a book
And calculating profits, so much help
By so much reading. It is rather when
We gloriously forget ourselves and plunge
Soul-forward, headlong, into a book's profound
Impassioned for its beauty and salt of truth-' Tis then we get the right good from a book."
3. We add another rule, to correct any excess or abuse
in the application of the foregoing, viz.: We should read
with an independent judgment and a critical spirit. It
does not follow, because we should treat an author with
confidence and respect that we are to accept all his opinions
and may not revise his conclusions and arguments by our
own. Indeed we shall best evince our respect for his
thoughts by subjecting them 4o.our own revision. But it
by no means follows because we re-judge his argument and
opinions that we are not instructed by both. Milton, in
the Paradise Regained, in connection with some important
truth, puts a singular argument into the mouth of the
Great Teacher.
"Who reads
Incessantly, and to his reading brings not
A spirit and judgment equal or superior,
(And what he brings what need he elsewhere seek?)
Uncertain and unsettled still remains.
Deep versed in books, and shallow in himself."
The parenthetical line would'imply that the capacity to
judge and revise the opinions of an author renders a man
independent of aid and incapable of instruction from and
of his fellow-men.  To a similar effect a saying of Charles
Butler is quoted by -one of Milton's editors, viz., "No man




cHAP. v.] The Relations of the Reader to his Author.   53
is the wiser for his books until he is above them." If this
were true, the wisdom of another could not become our
own except by the suspension or displacement of our individual activity of thought; instruction by books would
be an assertion of simple dogmatism; and confidence and
docility would only be other names for subservience and
credulity. Still whatever is our deference for an author
we cannot exalt his intellect into the place of our own; we
cannot receive his facts without evidence, nor his arguments
except so far as they produce conviction; nor should we
profess to admire his eloquence, to love his poetry, or be
delighted with his novels, because he is reputed to be a
great genius or a splendid writer. Here we observe that:
4. Favorite authors often exert an excessive and occasionally a blinding and stupifying influence over their admirers. We speak of such in connection with the duty
of reserving to ourselves the rights of independent judgment and criticism, because it is rare that one human
being ever gains a more complete possession of another
than does a favorite author over his devoted readers.
The most confiding friend and enraptured lover are rarely
more completely taken captive in thought and' feeling,
than are the readers of some fascinating writer, who is for
the time being in the ascendant, whether over a small
coterie of select worshipers or a whole generation which
he sways by his genius. A special chapter might be written
on the favorite authors of the present century; the secret
of their influence; the explanation of their power-its rise,
culmination and its sudden or gradual decline. The names
of Scott, Southey, Byron, Coleridge, Wordsworth, Moore,
Byron, Bulwer-Lytton, Carlyle, James, Dickens, Thackeray, " George Eliot," Mrs. Browning, Tennyson and many
others in England, and of Irving, Longfellow, Mrs.
Stowe, Beecher, Hawvthorne, Emerson, Lowell, etc., in
this country will occur to most persons as examples of




54              Books and Reading.            [CHAP. V.
writers who have more or less extensively exerted this
peculiar influence. When it is -salutary and elevating it
cannot be estimated too highly as an influence for good.
When it is equivocal or positively evil its disastrous power
cannot be too greatly deplored. Of both we shall have
abundant occasion to adduce illustrations as we proceed.
We hasten to observe:
5. That it is a good rule to read those authors whom we
are competent both to understand and appreciate. This
seems so true and obvious as to be a truism and a commonplace. If a man is to sympathize with his author, much
more if he is to criticise and judge him, he must certainly
be able to understand his meaning. His thoughts and
feelings if they do not produce answering thoughts and
feelings, are nought, to the reader. A complete and familiar
mastery of both are necessary to instruction and' pleasure
in the recipient. We do not say an easy mastery nor a
mastery which does not cost at times severe and patient
labor; for he who has never struggled to comprehend a
profound and subtile author has never had experience of
the manliest of activities —but we do say that the struggle
should be successful or it should be sooner or later
abandoned. There is not a more silly spectacle often exhibited, than that of an untrained or an uninstructed person
professing to follow and enjoy a writer to whom he is unequal, looking wise over his philosophy, interested in his
narrative or enraptured by his eloquence and poetry, when
they are all Greek or Chinese to him. The silliness is
especially conspicuous if the author is at once popular,
conceited and arrogant; if he understands and practises the
arts of intellectual trickery and delights to set people agape
with wonderment by sundry small artifices of high-sounding phraseology, far-fetched allusions, or any of the manifold impositions of word-play and imagery, or the more offensive attractions which are found in cool irreverence and




CAP. v.]  The Relations of the Reader to his Author.  55
audacious nonchalance with respect to the prevailing religion of the country in which he lives. The more real
genius he has, the more provoking is the effrontery of the
author who believes in and practises any kind of philosophical or poetical trickery, and so much the more conspicuous becomes the ridiculous plight into which his
credulous but ignorant admirers bring themselves by trying to persuade themselves that they understand a writer
who may not completely understand himself.
A reader should never be afraid to confess that he does
not understand or enjoy an author. He ought indeed at
times to say this with humility, and to feel that he thereby
makes a confession of some kind of incapacity, but he
ought to have the manliness to say it notwithstanding,
if the truth requires it. It is a fundamental condition of
all profitable study and thought, that a man should know
his ignorance and frankly confess it to himself. If a
reader does not appreciate a popular writer the fault may
not be his own. It may perchance be in the author. But
it can never be settled with whom it lies, unless the reader
has the honesty to confess to himself his incapacity to understand or enjoy his writer. This bravery of an honest
confession of one's incompetence to understand some things
that are written, would be of especial service nowadays
when so much brilliant guess-work and imposing dogmatism is put forth in the guise of all manner of philosophies
-as the Philosophy of Religion, of Worship, of Art, of
Literature, of Reform, of Education, of Voting, of Finance, of Woman's Rights and of Man's Duties, etc., etc.
The fable of Aristophanes concerning Socrates is literally fulfilled in our time, except that we have at least a score
of sages of different schools hanging side by side each in
his own basket, soaring and sinking between the heavens
and the earth, swaying to and fro in peril of a sudden tilt
from a capricious gust; each not rarely obscured by investing




56              Books and Reading.         [CHAP. V.
clouds, which betoken inspiration and add to the authority
of the prophet, especially when gilded by the sunlight of
his genius. Beneath each basket stands a coterie of credulous listeners, each affecting to believe what they do not
understand, or to understand what they ought not to,believe-all charmed, rapt, persuaded and convinced at least
of two things, of their own and their teachers' superiority;
and all alike ready to reply to the question, "Are you sure
that you understand all the oracular sayings of your prophet?" " Wa'd I hae the presumption f". The greater is
the pity that many of them do not have the presumption
to demand that their favorite teacher should write so that
they can understand him; and that much which they cannot but understand, they do not reject with frank and
outspoken aversion! This duty of reading authors whom
we can understand suggests another rule, viz.:
6. We should be contented to read that which is suitable to our present development of thought and feeling, or
in plainer language, to our age and progress. Everything
is appropriate and beautiful in its season. Eat strawberries in May or June, and wait for peaches and grapes till
the Autumn. Let not the miss just entering upon her
teens expect to appreciate the poetry or philosophy which
her brother of twenty-two is but just beginning to comprehend and enjoy. Above all do not meddle with philosophy
of any sort, whether it comes in the form of history, of fiction, or grave discussion, until you can grapple with its
problems and follow its subtile abstractions. Let your
reading in every department follow somewhat the order of
nature and of psychical growth, and the growth will be all
the more rapid and easy. The transitions from that which
is adapted to earlier and later youth and to dawning and
developed manhood will be easily and gracefully accomplished, and both intellect and feeling will find in the
abundant variety of literary productions, suitable and sat



cHAP. v. ]  The Relations of the Reader to his Author.  57
isfying nutriment for their newly-developed wants and
tastes.  Important aid in the selection of the right books
according to this rule may be derived from advisers who
know us well. But the rule furnishes in itself the means
for its own enforcement, if we considerately apply it. As
a general truth,,facts should come before philosophy; narrative before reflection; objective description before subjective meditation; poetry that is graphic, outward and picturesque before that which is meditative, learned and introverted; and history that paints and describes before
that which generalizes and interprets.
We have already intimated that we do not mean to say
by either or both of these rules, that we should never read
a book which is difficult to follow or comprehend, and
which it may be, costs a severe effort to master.  Books of
this class are sometimes the most useful of all to read.
The person, particularly the student, who has never
wrestled manfully and perseveringly with a difficult book
will be good for little in this world of wrestling and
strife.   But when you are convinced  that a book is
above your attainments, capacity or age, it is of little use
for you, and it is wiser to leave it alone. It is both vexing and unprofitable to stand upon one's toes and strain
one's self for hours in efforts to reach the fruit which you
are not tall enough to gather.  It is better to leave it
till it can be reached more easily. When the grapes are
both ripe and within easy reach for you, it is safe to conclude that they are not sour.
7. The style of a writer should often determine whether
we read or neglect him. But what is style and how shall
we judge whether it is good or bad? That depends upon
our taste; i. e., whether it is healthy or vitiated, whether
it is uncultured or rightly trained. Savages and semi-barbarians are fond of stimulating and strongly contrasted
colors, of violent and spasmodic gesticulations, of shrieking




58             Books and Reading.            [CHAP. v.
and dissonant sounds, of noisy and discordant music. So
in literature, there are semi-barbarians who delight in the
glaring and the grotesque, the extravagant and the spasmodic, the vulgar and sensational in diction and imagery.
In the judgment of such, those books, journals and newspapers only are up to the times and produced by live men,
which are distinguished by characteristics that belong to
the barbaric age.  That writer is trenchant and brilliant
who is ill-mannered, coarse, personal and vituperative.
That orator is magnificently eloquent who ranges through
the classical dictionary for historic parallels to common
men and common occasions, and always rides on the topmost wave of his tumid diction. Flippancy and audacity are
taken for genius and power, and a perpetual straining after
tawdry ornaments and effective diction, such as remind one
of war paint and tattooing, is deemed the certain indication
of intellectual power. People of more refined habits and a
more perfectly developed civilization, require a somewhat
different style in the writers whom they delight to readas strength without roughness, elegance without affectation,
ease without weakness, copiousness without verbosity and
courtesy without loss of dignity. We judge of style somewhat as we do of manners. Whatever in expression facilitates the easy apprehension and the pleasant reception of
the thoughts and sentiments; whatever fits both like a
glove and seems to have been their natural growth; whatever in form is the unstudied product of an earnest and refined nature is in general, good in style. On the other
hand, whatever is awkward, indirect, involved and
difficult to follow; whatever is factitious and affected;
whatever is overloaded with obtrusive and gaudy decorations; above all, whatever is swelling, declamatory, and
overstrained in its illustration and diction, is bad in style.
We may read an author whose style is defective or bad,
for the worth of his matter, but a bad style ought never to




CaAP. V.]   The Relations of the Reader to his Author.  59
please or attract us, and other things being equal, we cannot
but prefer the well written to the badly written book.
Style, indeed, is not to be judged of as a thing of the supremest consequence, but as chiefly valuable, as it renders
easy and agreeable the communication of thought and feeling.  " The more sash the less light," was a pithy saying in
respect of diction, often uttered by a writer who illustrated
the rule by his own example. It is slightly too pointed to
be altogether true. A window may serve other ends than
to let in the white light of winter or the dazzling glare of
summer; and style may be allowed to color and warm intellectual clearness with the hues that express emotion, and
to set off these hues by varying contrasts of beauty and
shading; but when style is characterized by mere pomp and;
glitter, by artificial nicety Qr-studied effect, it deserves the
contempt of every person of sense, as truly when seen in a
book as when displayed by man. But as in conversing
with men, we are naturally pleased with an easy flow of
language from the lips, so is it with language when it is
written. There is a natural grace and order and beauty
which lend a charm that cannot be described. There is a
power in expression by which a word as used by one man
will produce a stronger impression than a page composed
by another. By one writer thought is thrust forth as dry
as a withered branch; by another, through apt illustration,
it is made fresh and blooming, like an orange bough
just broken from the tree, in which bud, blossom and fruit
mingle their fragrance and beauty. From one man truth
falls as if wrung from unwilling lips; from another it
leaps into form and action, with a resistless energy, warm
and living, startling and overpowering.
It is of vital importance to our success and pleasure in
reading, that the books which we read should be well written. It is also a prime necessity that our ideal of what
good writing is should be just and elevated. Next to bad




60               Books and Reading.           [CHAP. V.
morals in writing, should be ranked bad manners in diction, or an infelicitous style. Awkwardness may be excused and even be accepted as an excellence when it betokens sincerity and directness of aim, but vulgarity, affectation, vituperation and bullyism, as well as "great
swelling words of vanity" and lofty airs of pompous declamation, whether of the Asiatic and Oriental or the
American and Occidental type-whether heard in the harangue from the hustings, in the sermon from the pulpit, or
in the speech to the universe in the legislature-whether
written in the newspaper or the essay, are more nearly
akin to moral defects than is usually believed or noticed.
Indeed they rarely fail to indicate them. Vague declamalion is a kind of conscious falsehood. Empty rhetoric is
a certain sign, as well as an efficient promoter of insincerity and hollowness, of sham and pretence in the character.
The fearful slaughter of honest English' that is committed so freely by sensation preachers and traveling politicians under the name of eloquence, and the more fearful
depravation of popular taste and public honesty that follows the admiration of such tricks of empty rhetoric and
factitious declamation, call for prosecution by the Grand
Inquest as dangerous nuisances to the public conscience,
no less than as open offences against rhetorical and grammatical propriety.
It is implied in these rules that no person should feel
obliged to read everything that is published. Read everything that is published! why should a man think of such
a thing? It were as reasonable to feel obliged to talk with
every man whom you meet; and to talk with him as long
as he chooses to hold you by the button, and this whether
he talks sense or nonsense, or whether what he says concerns you little or much or not at all. And yet there are
nen who aspire to read everything that is printed-men
who in order to keep abreast with "the literature of the




CHAP. V.] The Relations of the Reader to his Author.   61
day," as they phrase it, labor hard at the service and
groan inwardly if not audibly, because the time fails them,
amidst the multitude of books which every week brings
out. But the attempt and the desire seem to us very unreasonable. Unless, indeed, all authors are equally able
and honest, choice as well as necessity should direct to the
opposite. For who would listen to an organ-grinder in
the streets when he might hear from the noblest of instruments harmonies fit to be played in heaven? Or who
would stop to listen to a violin scraper while on his way to
a series of solos by Ole Bull or Paganini? Or who would
read a blundering, confused or lying history when he
might read one that is neat, orderly and trustworthy? Or
why read the one when you are satisfied from the other?
Who would read a novel or poem that depicts disgusting
or degrading scenes, or paints virtuously but feebly, when
he might read those that present worthy themes and treat
of them well? Books are constantly issued, concerning
which it is an honor to a man to say that he has not read
them-books which repel a right-minded man on the very
slightest acquaintance,-books of which such a man would
say instinctively, that he knows enough of them, to wish
to know nothing more.
But these thoughts bring us to a graver aspect of books
and reading, which we must reserve for another chapter.




CHAPTER VI.
THE INFLUENCE OF BOOKS AND READING ON THE
OPINIONS AND PRINCIPLES.
WE have learned that the best books, certainly those which
are the most interesting, are the books which most distinctly express some individuality in their authors. We have
also learned that that reading is ordinarily the most useful
and invigorating which brings us most closely and consciously into contact with writers of marked and earnest
personality.
We cannot resist the inference that books and reading
must exert a powerful influence upon the opinions and
principles.  This they do both directly and indirectlydirectly, when they address well or ill-reasoned arguments
to the understanding; indirectly, when their influence
upon the principles is secondary and unnoticed. Hence the
rule-and it is a rule of the first importance-that in reading we should make ourselves distinctly aware of the
principles of a writer, so far as he consciously or unconsciously expresses them in his writings, so that if need be
we may be on our guard against them. This rule is not so
necessary in the case of books which are avowedly written
for the purpose of defending a system of opinion, or establishing- a political, scientific, or theological creed. In
such cases the doctrines may be true or they may be false,
the opinions may be salutary or pernicious; but the positions
are distinctly avowed, and the reasons for them are urged
directly and confessedly for the purposes of conviction.
There may be serious exposure in such cases, but the ex62




CHAP. VI.]   Their Influence on the Principles.    63
posure is one of which we are distinctly aware, and in
which to be forewarned is to be forearmed.  In respect to
these cases, we do not propose to write a homily on that
most important and much abused direction, " Prove all
things; hold fast that which is good," however useful and
greatly needed such a homily might be. We shall not
stay to defend the utmost courage and freedom in the
formation of our opinions, by the use of light and evidence,
from whatever sources these may come. Nor shall we enlarge upon the important consideration that many, not to
say most, inquirers after truth may often learn more from
the antagonists than they can from the defenders of the
opinions which they accept; nor shall we contend that
every student and reader should honestly estimate and
interpret the force of the arguments on both sides of every
question, as they are in fact regarded and held by the defenders of each.
Considerations like these scarcely need to be urged upon
thoughtful and earnest readers, in these days of free discussion and large toleration; or, as we might say, these
days when, among large classes of bookish and reading
men, free discussion is but another name for universal
doubt, or a free and easy vacillation of opinion; when free
toleration is made both pretext and excuse for intellectual
libertinism; when earnest and fixed convictions on many
subjects are practically judged to be an affair of association
or taste;- when jesting and sneering litterateurs so rarely
think of asking T7mat is truth? or, if they ask, do not
"wait for an answer."
Nor, on the other hand, do we care to insist on the dangers which lie in the opposite direction, from a premature
agitation of opinions, before the mind is capable of a thorough and dispassionate examination of the reasons for or
against them, although no abuse of the rule "to read both
sides " is more serious in its consequences than that which




64              Books and Reading.          [CHAP. vI.
is committed by persons as yet untrained to discriminating
analysis or comprehensive speculation, when they attempt
to judge of arguments which they can neither comprehend
nor compare, or when they rush headlong into the study
of controversies concerning opinions which they have good
practical grounds for receiving. Admonitions of this sort,
however needful or pertinent they might be for the selection of books and the direction of reading, would open too
wide and indefinite a field of discourse.
WVe limit ourselves to the unconscious or the designed
propagation of the principles of an individual writer, in
an incidental way, by means of writings that have no
direct relation to the truth or falsehood of these principles,
and which, as works of literature rather than of argument,
profess to stand, apart from the field of discussion and of
doctrine. In writings of this kind no direct attack is
made upon those truths which are held sacred by rightminded men. The convictions which men are usually
taught to accept concerning self-restraint and self-denialconcerning the decent morals and the courteous manners,
which are at once the bonds and ornaments of human life
— are courteously recognized with outward homage. Conscience and duty, virtue and God, are named with respect,
and the reader, it may be, is formally assured that no man
holds them, when properly understood, in higher esteem
than does the writer. And yet, in the tale or the history,
the poem or the essay, such language is used, such insinuations are hinted, such associations are skillfully evoked, as
to depress and chill the better aspirations and the nobler
enthusiasms, and to leave the reader with a weakened
faith in the nobleness of man and the goodness of God.
Notable examples of influences of this kind are furnished
in the celebrated histories of Gibbon and of Hume. Gibbon has left behind him one of the most splendid monuments of human genius that modprn literature can furnish.




CHAP. VI.]   Their Influence on the Principles.  65
Inspired by the sublime and awful recollections that haunt
the ruins of the Eternal City, he essayed to write the story
of the "Decline and Fall" of that wonderful empire, of
whose greatness that city in its ruins is at once the symbol
and the sepulchre. This he accomplished with an industry that was equal to the herculean labor involved in the
collection of his materials, and with a genius that overmastered and moulded his learning at its will. There are
faults in Gibbon's style, and there may be defects in- his
narrative; but no man can deny the genius that could attempt so great a task, and could execute it so well; and still
less the value and splendor of the work which it has left
as its memorial. But it happened that the decline and
fall of Rome was coincident with the rise and growth of
another Empire, mysterious in its beginnings and superhuman in its force-a kingdom which has survived the
wrecks of many great empires, and which can be no better
described than in the words of the prophet, as " the stone"
which' became a great mountain and filled the whole
earth," as the kingdom which "should break in pieces
and consume all these kingdoms," and shall "stand for ever."
Had Gibbon's genius been enlightened by Faith, so that
he had been fired and elevated at the thought of the wondrous movements of this unseen empire-had he but conceived somewhat of the plan of God's providence in first
subduing the world to the sway of one iron dominion, that
lie might provide and prepare a suitable arena upon which
to introduce to the human race the most wonderful being
that was ever born of that race; so that when this race
was, as it were, taught to know one language, and gathered into one grand amphitheatre, it might hear God speak
to man-he would have contemplated the growth and culmination of Rome under relations that were far higher and
more elevating than- any which he recognized. Had he
also seen how, to further the purposes connected with the
6




66              Books and Reading.           [CHAP. VI.
progress of the new kingdom, it must first be incorporated
with the old Roman dominion, and even gain possession
of the throne of the Caesars, so that when the empire
should be broken in pieces, each shivered portion might
become the nucleus of a new Christian state-had lihe
written of Rome as thus falling, that a greater than Rome
might rise, what a different book had Gibbon's history
been in its plan and its principles, in its influence and its
fame! Had Gibbon but seen, as it would require no great
stretch of honesty or candor for a philosopher to see, that
everything good which comes to man and dwells among
men must be alloyed by human imperfection, and that,
therefore, it was not wonderful that Christian priests and
Christian teachers, in a barbarous age, should show much
of human passion and human infirmity —and had he, instead of exaggerating and coloring these inconsistencies, set
forth the virtues that shone the brighter because encompassed by such darkness, how much nobler and truer an
impression  had he made!  Had  he demonstrated to
himself and to others, that the natural causes in the passions and prejudices of men, to which he ascribes the preservation and triumph of a system which was in deadly
hostility with these agencies, did, in their presence and
power, only serve to illustrate the over-mastering force of
that vital principle which could work them out, throw
them off, or live on in spite of-them, he would have done
but justice to the truth as well as to the grandeur of his
theme.
But Gibbon did no such thing, but rather made the
History of Rome, with all its splendor as a theme for a
Christian historian, to be an occasion for the insinuation
of debasing unbelief, and the manifestation of the workings of an impure imagination. Of the tens of thousands
who have read this work as a history, and for historic
purposes, few have been able wholly to escape the indirect




CHAP. vI.]   Their Influence on the Principles.  67
influences which pervade it in every part, as the seeds of
death will shake themselves from the gorgeous robes of
damask and gold that have been worn by one smitten of
the plague. We do not wonder that the great and good
Dr. Thomas Arnold was moved, by the thought of this
evil, to undertake to write a history of Rome, which should
be animated by a different spirit.
Hume had a theme only inferior to that of Gibbon;
and that was the history of an empire which is more
wonderful in many of its relations to the world than Rome
ever was, or could be, even in the pride of its power.
The one empire was honored as the birth-place of
Christianity. The other as the birth-place of that liberty
of which a developed and free Christianity could alone be
the parent. For it was in the struggles between the crown
and the people of England, that the " good old cause" of
human rights and of human freedom was in fact made the
issue, and it was through many a hard-fought contest of debate and battle-field that liberty became triumphant, and
secured for herself a better abode and ampler room in her
new-found home beyond the ocean. How did Hume
write this history, so inspiring in its themes, so glorious in
the heroic men and the splendid deeds of strife and suffering, which emblazon its annals?  What is the sympathy
and what the spirit which he breathed into his record of
these men and their deeds? With what judgments and principles does he impregnate every line of his narrative? What
impressions does he leave upon the minds of his readers of
that which is most valuable in political institutions and
practical principles? What faith does he awaken in the
noble and the heroic in character? WVhat feelings does he
excite in his readers towards the dead whom they ought
to revere and the living who would emulate their example? To these questions we are compelled to answer,
that he wrote with a continued sneer at the religious faith




68               Books and Reading.          [CHAP. VI.
and fervor which fired the souls who resisted the throne
on the one side, and with scarce spirit and soul enough to
do justice to the chivalrous loyalty that lent its grace to
the mistakes and wrongs of tyranny on the other; and the
consequence was that he made out of the wondrous history
of England, a work fit only to be read by men who, having faith neither in God's truth, nor in man's nobleness,
are prepared to be skeptics, self-seekers, and slaves. And
yet so easy is his narrative, so plausible are his representations, and so specious are his arguments, that thousands of
readers have confided themselves to his direction, without
suspecting that the author was chilling their enthusiasm
for private and public virtue, or weakening their faith in
self-forgetting devotion to freedom and to God.
The two well-known histories of the United States, by
Bancroft and Hildreth, are pervaded by the political and
practical philosophy of their respective authors. Their
views of life, their estimates of character, as well as of the
conditions of greatness in the individual and the state, are,
in some respects, strikingly contrasted, and yet for different reasons the peculiar principles of each are open to exception. No man can study either of their histories without being either so consciously aware of their principles as
to accept or reject them, or without being unconsciously
moved to admiring sympathy, to unexplained antipathy,
or to decided aversion. The sanguine and nazf democracy
of Bancroft sometimes becomes so emphatic and extreme
as to remind us of.the wretched rant which in the Reign
of Terror thundered from the tribune in the daily assemblies of the Convention, and shrieked by night in the
frenzied gatherings of the Hall of the Jacobins. His careful and. exhausting research, and his painstaking comprehensiveness, are an insufficient offset against the superficial
philosophy that sometimes reminds us equally of the pedant and the demagogue. The pains-taking accuracy and




CHAP. VI.]    Their Influence on the Principles.    69
the judicial severity of Hildreth, do not atone for his sardonic bitterness, his cynic misanthropy, and his inveterate
dislikes; least of all for the chilling lesson of the nil admirari with which he weakens our faith in and respect for
self-sacrifice and self-denial.
The organs of great parties and interests, whether politieal or religious, do not merely defend by open and legitimate methods, the distinctive principles which they are
set to represent, but their judgments of men and of books,
of literature and philosophy, of tendencies and events-in
a word their blame and their praise-are determined more
or less completely by the political and religious opinions
of their party and school. This influence is pervasive like
the atmosphere, and it constitutes what is called the tone
and spirit of the journal, of the presence and character of
which the constant or occasional reader is not always so
distinctly aware, as he must inevitably be more or less
affected by it. We cite as examples, Blaclkwood's Magazine and The Westminster Review. In the conduct of the
first, when at the height of its power, were employed
genius the most splendid and various, as well as classical
and historical learning both brilliant and profound. In
the same number, and in the same paper, fun and frolic,
carried to the extreme of bacchanalian revelry, mingle
with sacred eloquence and poetry, and each of these incongruous elements is represented with unrivalled freshness and force. This magazine has been devoted from the
first to the interests of the Tory party in Great Britain, and
the influence of its wit and humor, of its poetry and philosophy, of its science and theology, has been to strengthen this interest in Church and State. Many an enthusi.
astic American youth has read it with admiration foi
years, and, as the result, has found himself, without know.
ing why pr how, the bond slave or devotee to all its pecu.
liar prejudices-has been made an English Tory oi




70            fBooks and Reading.            [CHAP. VL.
American soil, with all the comfortable self-complacence
and the real awkwardness of such a position. The Westminster Review has stood at the other extreme. It has been
critical and learned, acute and fearless, sharp and outspoken. The authority of tradition, the prestige of rank,
the prerogative of office, the associations of the past, the
pretension of the schools, have not deterred it from bold
attacks on everything that is venerable and sacred in Church
and State. Its principles stand out too distinctly to -fail to
be observed. No reader of this Review can fail to know
what its principles are.  We fear, however, that many
who dislike and reject its doctrines are influenced by its
spirit and philosophy more than they are aware or would
be willing to acknowledge.
Thomas Carlyle never fails to impregnate whatever he
writes with a large infusion of his opinions as the Prophet
of Discontent and Antagonism towards whatever the age
which he despises sees fit to honor. The sphere in which
he rules is that of the " Everlasting No;" his protest is a
perpetual veto. That he never fails to utter this protest with
brilliancy and power the multitude of his bewildered admirers testify with unwavering enthusiasm. That not a few
of these admirers are affected by his supercilious misanthropy and his cynical discontent is confessed by all but
themselves. Among American writers, the keen-minded
Holmes, the wide-minded  Emerson, the subtle-minded
Hawthorne, the cynical-minded Thoreau, in whatever they
write, proclaim each an Evangel, though it must be confessed that this Evangel, varies somewhat from that which
has usually been received as the Christian Gospel.
It ought to be no matter of wonder that a book should
be thus pervaded by the principles and even by the prejudices of its author. Every book comes from the mind of
a man, and if he writes earnestly, as he must if he writes
with effect, he will write as he thinks and feels, and even




CHAP. VI.]  Their Influence on the Principles.  71
when he does not intend it, and his mind is intent on
something besides, his thoughts and feelings cannot but
make themselves manifest. We do not advise that a man
should never read books that imply principles which he
thinks to be false or dangerous. We only say that he
should be aware of the fact that they are thus diffused; that
they give character and tone to large classes of books;
and most important of all, that they have no greater authority when insinuated by means of a book, whether it be
history or tale, poem or book of travel, than when they
are openly or insidiously uttered by the lips of a living
man.




CHAPTER VII.
THE MORAL INFLUENCE OF BOOKS AND READING.THE READING OF FICTION.
EWE are brought insensibly to a subject still more serious-the Moral Influence of Books and Reading. What
is the question that presents itself? It cannot be whether
books should be read of which the moral influence is evil.
No man who seriously believes in right and wrong can
give but one answer to this question. But the question is,
What books are such? how can they be distinguished, described and classified? how can I be certain that a book
which will be hurtful to another, will be injurious to myself? As a general answer to these inquiries, we can give
no better rule than the following by Robert Southey:
" Would you know whether the tendency of a book is good
or evil, examine in what state of mind you lay it down.
Has it induced you to suspect that that which you have
been accustomed to think unlawful, may after all be innocent, and that that may be harmless, which you hitherto
have been taught to think dangerous?  Has it tended to
make you dissatisfied and impatient under the control of
others? and disposed you to relax in that self-government,
without which both the laws of God and man tell us there
can be no virtue and consequently no happiness? Has it
attempted to abate your admiration and reverence for what
is great and good, and to diminish in you the love of your
country and your fellow-creatures? Has it addressed itself to your pride, your vanity, your selfishness, or any
other of your evil propensities? Has it defiled the imag72




CHAP. VII.]    Their Moral Influence.             73
ination with what is loathsome, and shocked the heart
with what is monstrous? Has it disturbed the sense of
right and wrong which the Creator has implanted in the
human soul? If so-if you are conscious of all or of any
of these effects-or if, having escaped from all, you have felt
that such were the effects it was intended to produce, throw
the book into the fire, young man, though it should have
been the gift of a friend! Young lady, away with the
whole set, though it should be the prominent furniture of
a rosewood book-case!" -The Doctor.
These rules are uncompromising in their severity and
strictness, but tolerant in their respect for individual freedom and discretion. They yield nothing to appetite and
passion, however insidiously these may be addressed, or
however tempting may be the allurements with which
genius masks the temptations or palliates the consent to
evil. They allow neither paltering nor parley with that
which would mislead or offend. They stimulate the moral
energies like a fresh and invigorating breeze. But they allow every one to judge for himself what may expose him to
harm, and permit no one besides to judge for him or to
rejudge his judgments. No larger liberty for the individual can be conceived of than that which these rules allow.
With such rules, or rules so phrased, a very large class
of critics, are not at all content. They would be more definite. They must name not only the books, but the classes
of books which are always and only evil. Some denounce
all light literature so-called, with a condemnation that is
by no means light in the matter or the manner. Others
reject everything that is fictitious, -with a saving clause,
that saves little or nothing that is worth preserving.
Poetry, Novels, and the written Drama, anrd whatever addresses the imagination are labelled by such mentors as
suspected or infected goods.
There is nothing which gives greater pleasure to the




74               Books and Reading.          [CHAP. VII.
friends of that literature which is really demoralizing, than
such wholesale and indiscriminate attacks upon works
of the imagination, especially if they are made from the
pulpit or in the name of religion. Such persons know,
that as they are uttered they are not true, and cannot be
successfully defended. They know, moreover, that the
rejection of what is false and excessive in them will destroy
the good influence of what is true-that those who make
these attacks will be excluded from the field of literature
in dishonor, and leave it free for their own exclusive occupation. The false issue made in the attack gives the
amplest opportunity for a false issue in the defence.
This issue they thus present: They do not defend the perversion of the imagination, not they! but only its innocent and healthy use; and thus under the name of the
liberty of nature, they secure the sphere and influence
of literature to the service of licentiousness. The motto
prefixed to one of the most shameless poems of the present
century, shows conclusively how an unfair attack suggests
and justifies a skillful but unfair retort and defence: " Dost
think because thou art virtuous that there shall be no more
cakes and ale? Yes, and ginger shall be hot in the mouth."
After this defence of harmless "cakes and ale," spiced a
little, but with nothing hotter than " ginger," what does the
writer do, but under this label send out to the world a
poisonous and disgusting mixture of arsenic and assafoetida,
in a poem, parts of which are fit only to be read or heard
in a brothel!
This being but too just an account of the manner in
which the question in respect to the moral influence of fictitious and imaginative literature is argued on both sides,
it seems desirable that one or two suggestions should be offered towards its right determination.
We assert then first of all, that a book is not of necessity
demoralizing, because it is fictitious or itnaginative. The




CHAP. VII.]     Their Moral Influence.            75
imagination is an endowment from God, and as such is not
to be dishonored or depreciated by the sneering or ignorant
contempt of man. It is also one of the noblest human
powers-the power which in some of its aspects is nearest
to the divine, and as such is capable of the most exalted
uses, and of an influence for good which cannot be computed. Of its products in literature Lord Bacon says: " The
use of this feigned history has been to give some shadow of
satisfaction to the mind of man in those points, wherein
the nature of things doth deny it, the world being in proportion inferior to the soul.       Therefore because
the acts or events of true history have not that magnitude which satisfieth the mind of man, poesy feigneth
acts and events greater and more heroical, because true
history propoundeth the successes and issues of actions
not so agreeable to the merits of virtue and vice, therefore poesy feigns them more just in retribution, and
more according to revealed providence: because true history representeth actions and events more ordinary and
less interchanged, therefore poesy endueth them with
more rareness and more unexpected and alternate variation: so it appeareth that poesy serveth and conferreth
to magnanimity, morality, and delectation. And, therefore, it was ever thought to bear some participation of
divineness, because it doth raise and erect the mind, by
submitting the shows of things to the desires of the mind,
whereas reason doth buckle and bow the mind unto the
nature of things."-On the Advancement of Learning.  If
Lord Bacon is right then there is nothing in the nature of
a work as fictitious which makes it either immoral or of
immoral tendency. It is no argument against a book, to
say that it is a novel or poem, nor does the fact that it is.a
novel or poem show that it is less favorable to morality or
even to religion, than to say that it is a collection of homilies or sermons. All appeals and indiscriminate assertions




76              Books and Reading.          [CHAP. VII.
that are directed against the reading of novels or poetry as
such, are like the guns of Trumbull's McFingal which,
" well aimed at duck and plover,
Bear wide and kick their owners over."
More than this is true. Not only is it clear that fiction
and poetry may exert a good influence, but it is equally
obvious that they do in fact exert an influence that is both
healthful and elevating.  Next to falling in love with one
who is worthy of the first and best affections of the lover,
should be ranked in its influence for good, the reading of
the first really good novel or poem which takes a strong
and permanent hold of the heart and character. There is
a charm investing this ideal world for the first time unveiled to the view, and a superhuman elevation in the
beings who live and move in it-a purity in their loves, a
dignity in their acts, and a weight and sacredness in their
words, which hold the young reader as by a spell, and lead
him a delighted captive. With what joy does the delighted pupil of Romance tread the common earth now
glorified for the first time to his anointed eyes, or look out
upon the transfigured sky now that heaven is seen to glow
beyond it! With what delight does he greet the face of man
and woman when he learns that they are capable of poetic
idealization; what new views does he take of life? as soon
as he awakes to the discovery that its common prose can
be turned into romance and poetry! It is not merely true
that as young people will fall in love, so they will read
poetry and novels, but we add, as it is well that they fall
in love, if they love aright, so it is well that they read
works of imagination, if they read them aright. Of many
a young man has it been true, that the sentiments of his
favorite poet, or of some ideal character in his favorite
novel, have exerted a healthful and elevating influence
over his whole being-have been made the standard of his




CHAP. VII.]   Their Moral Influence.              77
own efforts, and have breathed the breath of life into his
feeble aspirations. Were a wise man to have the complete
control over the mind and heart of a young person of
either sex, and to seek to form him or her after the ideal of
a generous, affectionate, and heroic character which would
be ready to labor, to suffer, and if need be, to die for man
or for God, he would freely avail himself, at proper intervals and in a due proportion, of the writings of men of
imaginative genius. He would teach his pupil not only
to love and admire them, but to study them thoroughly,
to enter fully into their spirit, that he might cherish purer
thoughts, more disinterested affections, and better ideals
than the actual contact with life can -possibly furnish.
The private history of the training of many of the noblest
men and women whom the earth has ever seen, would
amply justify the wisdom of this theory of moral culture.
If we reflect upon the actual influence for good which
proceeds from writers of this class, the argument gathers
an uncomputed and a resistless force. We speak of good
in the large and liberal sense of the word;-not merely as
it is obvious in writers who have consecrated their genius
directly to the service of devotion, as Watts, Cowper,
Young, and Milton in large measure; but of the good
which has come from Shakspeare, Scott, Burns, and many
others, by the introduction to the world of thought and
feeling of ideals that are pure and elevating, when glowing
with those golden hues with which genius transfigures the
lowliest thing which she touches with her finger. What
another place has this prosaic world become to every
reader of the English language, since Milton, Shakspeare, Burns and Scott, have perpetuated in that language the visions which once met their imaginations?
With what another atmosphere of thought and feeling is
the intellect and heart of every reader elevated, invigorated, and refreshed?  The characters and scenes described




78               Books and Reading.          [cHAS. VII.
and depicted by each have become to us as real and as permanent as are the sun and the stars, or the faces of our
familiar friends. We never behold them but they quicken
our -thoughts and give new life to our feelings. They
are a part, and not the least important, of the actual world,
ever exerting upon our characters and lives a powerful and
constant influence. Each new mind upon which open
these wondrous pages, gratefully owns their power. Their
ideal but still intensely real scenes and characters henceforward control and possess his world of thought and feeling, and still they live on and will act on other generations with unexhausted energy. To these creations might
be applied with eminent significance the remark of the old
monk to Wilkie concerning  Titian's Last Supper: "I
have sat daily in sight of that picture for now nearly
threescore years; during that time my companions have
dropped off, one after another, all who were my seniors,
all who were my contemporaries, and many or most of
those who were younger than myself; more than one generation has passed away, and there the figures on the
picture have remained unchanged! I look at them till I
sometimes think that they are the realities, and we but
shadows." In Milton, the Paradise which was lost always blooms in virgin  freshness. Satan, Moloch, and
Belial are ever holding their perpetual council and uttering words of specious cunning or of inextinguishable hate.
The mother of our race is always mourning the loss of her
sinless home, or with heart-broken grief charges upon herself the guilt of the first transgression. In the Paradise
Regained, the ancient world is still mapped out before the
eye, which here beholds
" Where on the AEgean shore a city stands,
Built nobly, pure the air, and light the soil,
Athens the eye of Greece, mother of arts and eloquence."
And there is described imperial Rome, along whose




CHAP. VII.]     Their Moral Influence.            79
famous roads and through whose opened gates are, ever
trooping her legions and tributaries, to and from the limits
of her world-wide empire. Comlus with his bacchanalian
crew still tempts with artful cunning, and is still repelled
by the pure-hearted lady who, strong in virtue, waits a
certain rescue. The genius of mirth is always tripping by
upon "the light fantastic toe," while her graver sister is
ever moving forward with downcast eye and measured
tread.
In Shakspeare, Hamlet is always the same, with senses
half paralyzed at the wrong he has suffered, and with
mind perplexed that the times should be so "out of joint,"
and he be called to set them right; the gentle Ophelia is
always wailing; the wronged Desdemona is ever sobbing
out the disappointment of her crushed and broken heart;
the injured but uncomplaining Cordelia, wonders at, but
does not reproach her cruel sisters, and comforts as best
she can, the distracted father whom their cruelty has murdered; Lady Macbeth stands in guilty horror pointing to
the " damned spot" which will not "out" at her bidding;
and ever as we gaze upon these forms, or hear the words
of these creatures of the imagination, our flesh creeps with
horror, our hearts are elated with joy, burn with indignation, or relax into weeping grief.
What a world of living beings has Scott created, what
personages has he called into life, what conversations do
we hear from their lips, what stirring events are still
wrought by their agency! Nay, more; he has carried these
all into the real world and given them a perpetual habitation there. Old castles, and moors, and mountain-tops,
and battle-fields, each have received from him the new
inhabitants evoked by his genius, so that when the traveler visits them it is not alone the ruined wall, nor the bare
mountain, nor the unruffled lake that he sees; but here the
royal retinue seems to group itself around the "maiden




80               Books and Reading.          [CHAP. VIL
queep," within the ruined castle of Kenilworth; there
Roderick's elan springs up, one by one, each from behind a
concealing rock, and there the Lady Ellen pushes out her
light canoe.
How has Burns by his wondrous touch turned the
house of every Scottish peasant into an abode of content,
and love and piety, and every simple Scottish lass into a
fairy being, and as a reward for the glory which he gave
to his beloved Scotia, has made for his poems in the actual
homes of Scotland, a place next to the Bible, and a
warm and thrilling remembrance in every living Scotchman's heart!
To hold intercourse with such creations, if the scenes be
innocent and the transcripts are made from no vicious and
degrading realities, cannot be unfavorable to pure and elevated moral feeling, even if there be no moral to the tale or
poem and no religious enforcement of its lessons. It is at
least an invigorating use of the powers to occupy them with
such creations of the lofty or humorous imagination.
We are prepared to assert that not only is the so-called
imaginative literature useful in its influence, but that all
literature whatever finds its principal power to elevate, in
the culture and stimulus which it furnishes to the imagination-that literature as such as distinguished from that use
of letters which adds to scientific knowledge or aims at
conviction, i. e. literature in the most of its forms, is
chiefly valuable for what it does for the imagination by
enlarging its range, elevating its ideals, stimulating its aims,
and purifying and ennobling its associations. To decry
the imaginative faculty and its products is to decry all literary culture if not to abrogate culture of every kind.
Let all this be granted says the objector or inquirer. But
what if the scenes are vicious, the sentiments false, and the
passions are sensual, malignant, and degrading? The answers to these and kindred questions must be reserved for
further discussion.




CHAPTER VIII.
IMAGINATIVE LITERATURE: ITS REPRESENTATIONS OF
MORAL EVIL.
IN our last we had reached the Moral Influence of
Books and Reading, and in discussing this were brought
to the questions so often mooted of the moral influence of
the so-called works of the imagination. We attempted
the defence of such works in the general, by citing examples from writers to whom all men pay a willing homage. Our discussion was arrested by the half-inquiry,
half-objection: " What if the scenes are vicious, the sentiments are false, and the passions are sensual, malignant, or
degrading? Can it be morally healthful that one should
be conversant with such pictures, thoughts, and feelings,
especially if armed with double energy, and clothed with
dangerous fascinations by the power of genius?  Would
you have your son or your daughter excited by the scenes,
infatuated by the characters, or tempted by the words of
]Byron, Moore, Bulwer, Goethe, or even of many that they
find in Shakspeare, Milton, Burns, and Scott? In the
works of every one of these writers, I can point you to
many passages that should never be presented to a pure
and virtuous mind. The very contact with them must involve some soil or taint, if it does not impart corruption.
To entertain them in any form, to suffer them to confront
the imagination, or to glide before the eye of the mind
even for an instant, is to be debased and polluted, and towards them one should have no other feelings than aversion and disgust, however splendid or powerful is the genius that gilds or glorifies them."
81




82              Books and Reading.           [CHAP. VIII.
This is partly true and partly false. What is true is
very true, and what is false is very false. The moral evil
or danger in such cases, does not, however, arise from the
fact that debasing scenes or wicked characters are made to
stand or move before the imagination; nor again, that
hateful passions are spoken out in venomous or malignant
words; nor that wickedness acts itself forth with complete
and consistent energy. It still remains true that:
" There is some soul of goodness in things evil,
Would men observingly distil it out."
The ground of moral exposure is not the tact that evil
is painted, nor that it is painted boldly; but it is in the
manner in which it is represented, —whether with fidelity
to the ordinances of nature, or falsely to her eternal laws
as written on the heart of man. This will be determined
in a great measure by the man whose imagination reflects
and recreates the evil, according as he writes like a Christian, or writes like a Turk-like a man with a conscience
and a moral nature, or like a man who makes his passions
his conscience, and his will his God. Prof. F. W. Newman, solidly observes, "In poetry, as in all other writings,
the moral influence depends on its throwing our sympathies
aright and leaving on the mind fit images and contemplations. Many darker passions may be portrayed: for the
pathos which we seek has a two-fold character like the
sublime and beautiful, viz: the terrible and the lovely.
While we shudder at evil passion, it cannot make us worse.
Demoralization begins, when we learn to sympathize with
it, or to dwell upon things over which it is healthful to
step lightly."-Lectures on Poetry, i.  This difference between the two methods of depicting evil will be obvious by
one or two examples.
Satan, as described by Milton, is well known to most
readers. He is justly conceived and nobly painted. He is




CRAP. VIII.]       Imaginative Literature.                   83
not a being who is low and offensive because degraded and
brutish, but an archangel ruined, once possessed of the intellect and heart of a seraph, now blasted by bad ambition
and consumed by unrelenting pride. Every feature is consistent with this conception. His will is as inexorable as
that of Prometheus nailed to the Caucasian rock. The
hatred  is intense, steadying  the  powers by unrelenting
determination, not distracting orweakening them by impotent rage. The cunning is masterly, yet dignified. The
passion burns like a red-hot furnace, and the words speak
out the inner soul with the energy of a fierce north-wester.
" Better reign in Hell than serve in Heaven," utters and
describes his character and ruling principle. Had Milton
painted Satan thus and only thus, he had given but half his
being, as well as glorified him with splendors too attractive
for the responsive tastes of many readers. But he did not
leave him thus, for his truthful insight taught him, that
thus described and only thus, he were no real fiend-no
conceivable being of any species, but simply the half of an
incomplete conception-a monster by defect.  He therefore
makes him confess his agony in such words as" Me miserable! which way shall I fly
Infinite wrath and infinite despair?
Which wzay I fly is hell-myself am Hell!
And in the lowest deep, a lower deep,
Still threatening to devour me, opens wide,
To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.
0 then at last relent: is there no place
Left for repentance, none for pardon left?
None left but by submission, and that word
Disdain forbids me and my dread of shame."
In the presence of his old compeer, Zephon, severe in
steadfast allegiance and white with unstained purity:" Abashed the Devil stood,
And felt how awful goodness is, and saw
Virtue in her shape how lovely: saw and pined
His loss; but chiefly to find here observed
His lustre impaired-yet seemed
Undaunted."




84               Books and Reading.           [CHAP. VIIL
He descends to the low and mean disguise of a filthy
reptile, placing himself at the ear of the sleeping Eve,
"squat like a toad," from which disguise, when touched
by the spear of Ithuriel, he cannot help himself but he
must stand forth a treacherous tempter, "discovered and
surprised." As he reports to his associates his success in the
ruin of man, and waits with confidence for"Their universal shout and high applause
To fill his ear,"
there rushes in upon his enraged and disappointed soul
"On all sides, from innumerable tongues,
A dismal universal hiss, the sound
Of public scorn."
The completeness and truth of Milton's picture of Satan
is in striking contrast with the Lucifer of Byron's Cain,
who discourses atheism and blasphemy with such specious
and passionate force that the trusting reader's faith in God
and conscience is shaken and confounded, and it is well if,
with heated brain and unbelieving heart, or passionate and
despairing scorn, he does not plunge himself into some rash
act of passion or crime; or, having done so, does not sullenly turn his back upon hope, and cast in his lot with
those who curse God and die. In such a character there
is but half the truth, and therefore truth itself is dishonored
and belied. Passion is painted in sublime energy, in audacious daring, with impetuous and overbearing ferocity. So
far there is truth. But the inward shame and agony are
wanting; and most important of all, the conscious weakness of selfishness and sin that are self-confessed; the
meanness of violating gratitude, fealty, and self-control;
all of which should be present and made prominent to express and impress the truth, that this Lucifer, with all his
sophistry and pride, with his boasting and his blasphemy,
inwardly knows that he has sold himself to a falsehood.




CHAP. VIII.]      Imaginative Literature.                   85
Moreover, in the absence of this completing half-truth-so
far as the poet's representations are concerned-God himself is, by these specious and passionate reasonings, made
an almighty and malignant monster, injustice sits upon the
eternal throne, and the universe itself is pervaded by a
gigantic lie.  A  similar defect with  similar evil consequences, is to be observed in the Devil of Goethe's Faust,
except that the metaphysics are more profound and scholarlike, and the sneer is more consummately devilish at whatever is worthy in human pursuit, whatever is noble in human
self-denial, and whatever is confiding in human affection.
We observe that by these three writers the same bad
character is depicted, and so far as his badness is concerned, with feelings, words, and acts that are consistent;
and so far, with more or less of testhetic perfection. In
Milton the evil is harmless; it is even morally healthful,
because, with the attractions and force of evil, the weakness and self-reproach, the shame and agony are also represented. With Byron and Goethe, the diabolism that is
dormant in man, is uppermost, and blasphemy, selfishness
and lust rule in the universe, and sit upon the throne of
the Eternal. *
We might also contrast the Hamlet of Shakspeare with
the Manfred of Byron.  Hamlet had been disappointed of
his rightful crown, and wronged in his holiest confidence,
by the frailty of his mother. Disturbed in his confidence
in man and in God, he plots a murderous revenge, slays
the father of Ophelia, and spurns and treads upon her
X We trust that none of our over-fastidious readers will sneer at our recognition of the " diabolism that is dormant in man." It was suggested by the
words of Sir Thomas Browne: " The heart of man is the place the devils dwell
in. I feel sometimes a hell within myself; Lucifer keeps his court in my
breast; Legion is revived in me." "In brief, we are all monsters-that is, a
composition of man and beast; wherein we must endeavor to be as the poet's
fancy that wise man Chiron, that is, to have the legion of man above that of
beast, and sense to sit but at the feet of reason." —Religio Medici.




86                   Books and Reading.                [CHAP. vIII.
gentle and loving heart.  Self-destruction  is the readiest
relief from his sufferings, and the speediest deliverance
from  a stage of existence in which everything is " out of
joint."   " To be or not to be," is the question which  he
debates with himself in thoughts and words which are
forever true to the heart of man.
"To die; —to sleep,No more; and by a sleep, to say we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to,-'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die;-to sleep;To sleep! perchance to dream;-ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long a life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time
But that the dread of something after death,The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveler returns,-puzzles the will;
And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of.
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all."
Manfred by his own confession is far more guilty than
Hamlet. His guilt he does not hide, he spreads it abroad
for public gaze, but rather to incite the sympathy of lookers-on than in the spirit of confession and shame. Remorse he does not conceal, but he gives expression to it too
often to leave the impression that it is either natural or
sincere. In the struggle with conscience and avenging
spirits, it is pride not conscience which prevails. In his
exit it is the spirit of defiant bravado which dismisses him
from life. The weakness and fear with which the guilty,
and especially the confessed victim of remorse, looks over
into the life beyond, are wholly wanting. Instead thereof,
this mortal who by crime and remorse has made himself
so wretched that he cares to live no longer stalks defiantly




CHAP. VIII.]      Inaginative Literature.                   87
into the Unseen, a stupid atheist, successfully defiant of
the earth-spirit that comes to fetch him away, yet without
a thought or prayer for that Greater Spirit whom he cannot avoid. There is little homage to conscience here-it is
pride and self-will, not conscience and self-reproach, that
will the day. The timorous weakness that comes front
sin, the coward fear that looks forward to the undiscovered
country, are not expressed. The self-centred though suffering criminal triumphs in his fiendish pride. Conscience is
not the victor, but conscience is vanquished by unbroken
and self-willed pride. *
We might also contrast at length  Bulwer Lytton  and
Scott. We mean Bulwer Lytton in his earlier novels, the
heroes of which are not only factitious men of high life,
but they are very generally intellectual and sentimental
adulterers and libertines, accomplished withal in the arts
of life and the graces of society, who are deeply absorbed
at times in the profoundest speculations concerning God
and immortality, intermixed with the slang of high life at
the club and the gambling-house.  These all quietly terminate their career in the novelist's heaven of reform, wisdom, and wealth, without repentance and without shame.
They are without a human conscience, and of course
monsters —doubly monsters by the splendid accessories
with which the writer's eloquence and power has contrived
to set them forth.
The healthy and truthful mind of Scott could not depict, because it could not conceive, the possibility of such
unnatural human creations.  Though Scott does not write: We find since writing the above that the Rev. F. D. Maurice, in his recently published " Lectures on Casuistry," refers to Manfred, as " that wonderful play of the conscience," and couples it with Macbeth in this regard. CPt
in our judgment, three words of Lady Macbeth express more, of both esthctic
effect and moral truth, than scores of lines of Manfred's ambitious self-flagellations. No reader would care to change places with the one; but there are
many who sympathize with Manfred to the end, and suffer no recoil of horror.




88              Books and Reading.         [CHAP. VILI.
in a professedly ethical spirit, or for. ethical aims, he always writes with ethical truth. Traditional and conventional prejudices may sometimes bias his judgments and
representation of the historical characters and historic
times which he depicts in his romances. The Cavalier
and Tory writer may now and then be unjust to the Covenanter and the Whig of whom he writes, but the eternal
distinctions of right and wrong are always honored, and
the responsive emotions, which cannot be extinguished
in the human soul, are recognized and honored with a
woman's delicacy of sentiment. Scott may not always make
the conscience sufficiently prominent as an element of human nature; he may not always give room and space
enough to man's relations to the unseen, but he no more
thinks of describing man without a conscience, than without a head, and he would as soon make him breathe without the air as live without a God.
Thackeray and Dickens both write with ethical truth so
far as they go. The satirical tone of the one, and the
comic humor of the other, may in a certain sense interfere
with the most effective lessons of either human sympathy
or ethical earnestness. Much of the power of both writers,
however, lies in the recognition by the one, of the flimsiness of shams, the vulgarity of snobs, and the emptiness
of pretentious and uncultured fashion; and by the other,
of the meanness of avarice, the sweetness of a kindly spirit,
the blessing of a sunny temper and the dignity of patient
beneficence.
We cannot leave unnoticed the relations of literature, and
especially of works of the imagination, to the virtue of
purity, and to that sensitiveness and reserve which are at
once the defence and ornament of the weaker sex. Many
are offended at the freedom which writers like Shakspeare
and Milton use in their portraitures of women, and at the
boldness of speech with which they unveil the mysteries




CHAP. VIIT.L   Imaginative Literature.             89
which the modesty of common conversation, or even of unimaginative writing rarely approaches. The young reader
is appalled and shocked at his first acquaintance with not
a few passages in both these writers. Perhaps he concludes
that it is an offence against morality to have written or to
read them. He cannot persuade himself that they do not
offend against modesty, and if they offend against modesty,
surely they must be condemned in the court of conscience.
Scruples like these disquiet many older persons who feel a
stain of impurity as a wound, and who would prefer to
throw their Milton and Shakspeare into the fire than to
offend their sense of right. To meet the scruples of such,
the Family Shakspeare has been provided, and an expurgated Milton -has very probably been thought of. The
question is a fair one, Why are these scruples unfounded?
why are these great writers not rejected as impure, when
others perhaps less gross in speech are properly condemned?
So far as these writers are concerned, we may say in answer,
that the language of a writer may be free and seemingly
gross, and yet the purity of nature may be observed; for
nature is not a whit of a prude, and those who write with
genius must follow  nature wherever she leads.  "But
nature, though not a prude, is modest and chaste." True,
yet still it is possible that in conformity with the freedom
of the times of a writer, there should be much in language
that is gross, and yet nothing be expressed that tends to inflame and excite lascivious passion. With all the freedoms of
Shakspeare and Milton, there are few or no artful addresses
to those desires that were made to be sternly controlled.
There is little luscious and honeyed speech, like that of
Moore or Byron, in which genius ministers directly at the
altar of lust, and all the more effectively and shamelessly
when her robe is studiously modest to excess, and her
language to the ear is as pure as Diana's.
In the Scriptures both the Old Testament and the New,




90              Books and Beading.         [CHAP. VIII.
there are not a few passages which to the mind and ear seem
and sound immodest, but there is nothing that is'fitted to
excite lascivious passion or to gratify prurient desire;
nothing which is in the least akin to that which constitutes
the chief interest of both plot and character in scores of
modern novels in which adultery, jealousy, and lust are
the prominent themes; in which the skill of the writer,
often unhappily a woman, is expended in artfully suggesting pictures which he dares not paint, and stimulating
curiosity by the suggestion of passions which it is indecent
to name. A lawyer in a recent trial in which the question
turned on the moral tendency of a novel represented to be
impure, recited a long passage from Milton to show that
nothing could be more indecent, —and that therefore no
freedom of speech in a man of genius could be open to this
charge. We are not forced, in order to justify or define
what we consider the true criterion, to defend every passage
of Milton, but we assert that he very rarely introduces any
theme or dwells on it more broadly than the necessities of
his subject require, and that he never gratuitously or directly, seeks to stimulate or excuse licentious passion. We
cannot perhaps assert so much for Shakspeare. Some of
his minor poems cannot be defended by the warmth of
youth or the general freedom, even the grossness, of the
times. But, in general, when we have bated from his plays,
those passages which may have been interpolated by actors
to please the groundlings of the pit, there is remarkable
purity of tone-we may say chasteness of feeling, even in
what to the ear is broad and free. In respect to the higher
attributes of woman, nothing can surpass the delicacy of
his conceptions, or the elevating purity, we might almost
say the vestal chastity of his thought and feeling. If we
compare him with the poets, and especially with the dramatists of his time, with Ben Jonson at their head-the most
learned, who ought to have been the most civilized-he




CHnP. VIII.]    Imnainative Literature.           91
shines by the contrast with a radiance that surprises and
delights the fair-minded critic. Dryden, the great leader
of the next generation, with Shakspeare as an example to
guide and elevate him, whom he both studied and criticized,
deliberately wallows in a slough not only of grossness of
speech, but of indecency and licentiousness in sentiment
and intent.
From these examples we think can be derived a canon
which will enable even the most unpractised person to determine what is pure or impure in imaginative literature.
"A writer, from what we call the grossness or freedom of
the times in which he lived, may be gross in language, and
even in description and allusion, and yet not be impure.
He may also introduce in writing, if his plot or character
or theme requires it, both scenes and descriptions which it
may not be pleasant to recite or read in a drawing-room.
Sometimes he must do this, or his picture would not be
complete, or his character consistent. But he may never
enact the part of the tempter to evil, either by soliciting
or excusing passion. Whoever does this, is a licentious
writer, whatever be the refinement of his allusions, or the
euphemisms of his speech. Whoever goes beyond this,
and makes the chief interest and excitement of his tale or
character to depend on the attractiveness of sin, without
its shame and sorrow, is often a more serious offender,
just in proportion to the refinement of his double entendres,
and the studied propriety of his descriptions. That modern
literature, in both fiction and poetry, is often indecent, even
when it seeks to be exquisitely refined, is too notorious to
be denied or overlooked."
" It is very remarkable," says F. W. Newman, " that while
the ancient theory concerning the relation of the sexes was at
best deficient and at worst very base; while the abundance
of slave women and freed women, and the unchallenged
rightfulness of slavery, depressed the best men's notions of




92               Books and Reading.         [CHAP. vIIr.
the rights of women; yet in their highest poets there is
less than in our own that can minister to voluptuousness,
even in Homer and Virgil than in Milton and Spenser.
But here also Walter Scott is admirable. He has an unfailing sweetness of heart, full-charged with the morality of
the future."-Lecture i.
A sharp humorist in Blackwood's Magazine is not at all
too severe in the following, which purports to be an item
in his last Will and Testament.  "My sense of Decency
and Decorum, my dislike to details of the Divorce Court
and the general annals of prurient living-I leave to the
lady-novelists, whose utter destitution in this respect moves
pity and compassion; and I appeal to all those who have
any qualities, even worn ones, of regard for cleanliness of
life and decency of demeanor, not to forget creatures so
utterly bereft of these gifts, and to whom even the rags of
virtue would prove an unspeakable luxury."
A generation cannot be entirely pure which tolerates
writers who, like Walt Whitman, commit, in writing, an
offence like that indictable at common law of walking
naked through the streets, and excuse it under the pretence
that 1" Nature is always modest." Nor can such a writer
as this be successfully defended, even by Emerson, if
he regards one of his own maxims, that "Nature is
severely chaste."  That literary catholicity must be too
broad for those who " can afford to keep a conscience,"
which accuses or applauds such lecherous priests of Venus
as Algernon Swinburne, or would palliate not merely his
enormous offences in the service of passion, but his more
shameless defiance of the remonstrances of those whom he
offends. Let the imagination of such writers be ever so
brilliant and their diction ever so enchanting, the altar at
which they serve is that of harlotry and pollution.
Lest it should be thought that these remarks are too
sweeping, we would refer to one or two reasons why




CHAP. VIII.]    Imaginative Literature.            93
authors may sometimes be more refined in their tastes than
their works would indicate, and why critics in literature
and students of books are less sensitive than unpracticed
readers in respect to certain freedoms of allusion and of
treatment. To critics and authors, the matter may be one
of simple psychological development and study, while to the
person whose sensitive imagination responds with vivid interest to every successful representation, the delineation of
passion may be fraught with sophistical or seductive
power. One who is fortified by the varied experiences of
life, or whose passions are cooled by age, or controlled by
habits of duty, may safely visit scenes and have to do with
persons which would be dangerous to those younger and
more inexperienced. The residents of a large city must of
necessity come in sight of evil, to the attractions of which
the stranger from the country has not become insensible.
The physician, who is strong in health and hardened by
custom, inhales with impunity the offensive and deadly air
of contagion, without being even sensible of its nauseous
and dangerous quality. The habitue of a dissecting-room,
who in more than one respect may be likened to a literary
critic, is so used in all his senses to every form of morbid
anatomy, that he sometimes forgets that what is rightfully
most offensive to others has ceased to be so to himself.
Perhaps in this way we may explain why it is that certain
imaginative writers, whose aims are usually pure and elevated, and whose tastes are sensitive and refined, sometimes
introduce scenes and personages that offend right-minded
and right-hearted readers, and why critics of the severest
ethical tastes not infrequently tolerate what deserves reprobation. We can understand why a writer who could handle such "extra-hazardous characters" as are introduced in
"Peg Woffington" with such delicacy and even ethical
truth, should excite offence by those in " Griffith Gaunt,"
and why in respect to the ethical influence of the latter




94              Books and Reading.          [CHAP. VIII.
work there should fail to be entire unanimity of dissatisfaction. The professional insensibility of a practiced litterateur is however scarcely an adequate explanation or
excuse for the proclivities of such a writer as the author of
"New America " and " Spiritual Wives."  The pruriency
of not a little modern literature is a sad sign of degeneracy
of taste and of tone in certain circles which pride themselves
upon their excessive refinement of taste and their secure
elevation above the ordinary weaknesses and responsibilities
of humanity as well as above the received maxims of propriety, not to say of decency in the relation of the sexes.
This variety of opinion and practice makes even more
imperative the rule which we have laid down, that what
offends one's moral tastes, or is condemned by one's moral
judgment, should be uncompromisingly rejected. No
freedom of practice or opinion on the part of others should
be allowed, as against this law for the individual conduct.
While there is force in the maxim, " To the pure all things
are pure," there is truth in the proverb, "What is one
man's meat is another man's poison;" and there is no
poison so deadly, as there is none which is so insidious and
tenacious, as the poison which defiles the imagination by
means of licentious literature. That young man does a
better thing than he knows of for his conscience, his character, and his manhood, who resolutely throws into the fire
a book which he finds to be bad, even though it is bad
only for him; and that young lady serves her conscience,
and womanliness too, who does the same with any book
which should cause her to blush to herself that she has not
done it before.
Leaving this topic, we are prepared also to draw a still
broader induction in respect to the general moral influence
of imaginative writers. It certainly is not required that a
writer be morally pure, and even morally elevating, that
he should point-or rather blunt-every sentiment, tale, or




CarP. VIII.]     Imaginative Literature.             95
poem with a moral.  Nor is it necessary that the writer
should at all times maintain a preaching tone, in order to
be moral, or even in order to be Christian. All books
ought not to preach at all times; no more should all men,
even if preaching is their proper vocation. Too much
preaching diminishes or mars the effect of good preaching,
when preaching is required; much more is it to be avoided
if the preaching is not of the best quality, as it rarely can
be, in a story or poem.
The obtrusion of religious or ethical aims characterizes
the so-called Tendenz-roman of the Germans, and the
Novel of purpose or the Doctrinal Novel of the English.
These are generally characterized by a single defect, and
that is, that when the purpose or tendency is moral it is
usually so obtrusive or embarrassing as to weaken the
imaginative character of the work, and thus to hinder or
destroy its power to be morally useful. A tale or poem
that is constructed for the single aim of enforcing an ethical or religious truth, in nine cases out of ten, suffers materially as a tale or a poem. It is then by no means essential that the ethical aim of the writer should be apparent,
nor even that he should write with an aim that is distinctively ethical at all, in order that he be both ethically useful and ethically pure.
Nor, again, is it necessary in order that literature be intensely and in the best sense ethical, that bad scenes, bad
characters, bad sentiments, and bad passions, should not be
introduced, and, when represented, should not be consistently and forcibly described-giving to sin all the
dignity and beauty and attractions which it may lawfully
claim, else the mirror were not held up to nature. What
we contend for is simply that the mirror should be held up
to nature as it is, only with magnified proportions. Now
nature, i. e., human nature, is intensely ethical; she recognizes conscience, not always in her actions indeed, but




90                Books and Reading.           [CHAP. VIII.
always in her convictions; she requires judgment and retribution too, at least within the domain where shame and
self-reproach abide; she forgives indeed, but never without
repentance, never to those who glory in wrong or hatred,
in selfishness or shame. It is just when, and just because,
the mirror is not held up to nature, that there is moral
danger, and often moral death; and the danger. is exactly
in proportion to the power of genius to glorify or excuse
the distorted and unnatural images which it reflects. It is
when the magic mirror which genius has always at command, is no longer a mirror of truth-reflecting the shame,
the corruption, and the remorse of sin as well as its glory,
its short-lived triumph and its joy-but the lying glass in
which the harlot is set forth as a vestal, the fiend as a loving angel, and the atheist as an adoring seraph, that genius
becomes one of the mightiest agents for evil, by bewildering the imagination, confusing the judgment, and leading
captive the passions of an admiring generation.
In discussing the ethical criteria of imaginative writers
and their works, we have in fact considered the ethical
characteristics of all sorts of literature. We repeat the
thought without hesitation, that literature as literature, invariably acts upon and addresses the imagination. In one
word, all literature so far as it is literature proper is imaginative. Literature does indeed enlarge our store of facts,
and in this way gives what is called information or knowledge; but if what we learn does not excite us to recreate,
either for delight to the feelings or for application to use,
the facts and information which it imparts are as dry and
barren as the tables of a book of logarithms or the rows of
figures in an old ledger. Literature also reasons with us
and convinces of truth, but if the truth is not recast and
used to interpret nature or direct the life, wherein is its
value? But if used in either of these ways, it acts upon the
imagination. It will be found moreover that all history,




CHAP. VIII.]    Imaginative Literature.              97
all reasoning, all eloquence, and all positive knowledge
whatever, are more or less imaginative, and are fitted
either to exercise and stimulate, and consequently to elevate or degrade the imagination. Literature in all these
higher relations must therefore be ethically good or ethically bad. It cannot be morally indifferent. It must be
healthful or injurious.
The imagination forms and controls the conscience so
far as it forlns and enforces the ideals of what we can and
ought to become. The ideals which it actually forms and
enforces must inevitably raise us upward or drag us downward.  Literature in all its products, as history, essay,
oration, or argument, modifies and energizes these idealsentering into all by an unobserved but most potent influence. This influence is especially subtle and effective
when the imaginative element gives character and name
to the product, i. e., when, as poem, novel, or drama, it
stimulates and directly addresses this controlling power.
It follows that all those ethical criteria and rules by which
we estimate and use confessedly imaginative writers, apply
as properly to every department of literature.
There is a very abundant class of writings that are sometimes denominated cheap literature, which, only by courtesy, deserve to be called literature at all. It is a class
somewhat miscellaneous and comprehensive, consisting as.
it does of novels, novelettes, journals, and newspapers; in
which so-called stories abound. Of many of these productions nothing worse can be said-though that is bad
enough-than that they are utterly frivolous and vapid,
that they while away the time, and interest the feelings,
but neither elevate the tastes nor brighten the life. They
are simply a reflex of the commonplace aims and the
vulgar feelings of the mass of readers for whom they are
written.  They are made to take and made to sell, and
they both take and sell, because they humor what their
7




98               Books and Reading.          [CRAP. VIII.
readers like, in respect to characters, incidents, illustrations, and style.
Much of this sort of literature is open to the more serious objection, that it stimulates and inflames the passions,
ignores or misleads the conscience, and studiously presents
views of life that are fundamentally false. The lower appetites are often directly addressed, or their indulgence is
indirectly justified through the gravity that becomes a book,
and the sophistical art which every writer must use to keep
for himself and his reader the semblance of a becoming
self-respect. Writings of this class lead men to believe
that they can be rich without toil and saving; that they
can be amiable and attractive, and yet be intensely hypocritical and selfish; that they can have exquisite moral
sensibilities and lofty moral aspirations, and yet be debased by appetite and passion; that they can be profanely
blasphemous, and yet fervently religious; in short, that
they can be successful for the present and future life, without complying with a single condition of success for either.
And they find readers, too-scores, hundreds, thousands,
myriads of readers. Yes, of myriads they constitute the
sole reading. The man of business, whose tastes are low
and whose aims are vulgar, reads them when he lays down
his favorite newspaper-too often like them-and he becomes more intensely mean and animalized than before;
the clerk reads them, and they furnish him with the slang
of his loose conversation, or train him to rob his master's
drawer, or tamper with his accounts, that he may visit the
gambling-house and the brothel. The silly and unprotected girl reads them, and she is ripened by them to yield
to the flatteries of her seducer. The neglected boy reads
them, and they make him an incendiary or a pirate, a
hater of law and a despiser of God. They are the Bible
and the Primer to myriads of the rising generation at this
very hour.  One can never see a bale of books or papers




CHA,. VIII.]    Imaginative Literature.               99
of this sort without thinking, there goes a package of the
seeds of robbery and lust. It were almost better to import living lecturers in behalf of sensualism and crime,
and furnish them with pulpit and hall, for then we should
have the disgusting facts of sin to give the lie to its flattering words. It were almost no worse that a procession of
harlots should walk the streets of every city or village, for
these would bear the brand of their own shame upon their
foreheads.
But are not these books brilliant? Yes, brilliant as a
rotten log, or a putrescent carcass, which shine because
they are decayed, and are phosphorescent just in proportion
as they are offensive.  But do they not sparkle and
delight? Yes, just as the will-o'-wisp, which is created of
foul gases, and leads the silly pursuer through brush and
brier, till it lands him in some miry swamp, or chokes him
with the damps of death. No language can describe the
influence of this so-called literature in degrading the tastes,
in weakening or corrupting the principles, and in provoking the passions. No man can easily estimate the evil
consequences that are to come of it, in a character at once
frivolous, conceited, and vulgar, or sensual, ferocious, and
atheistic.
It is grateful to turn from this painful picture to a
higher and better kind of popular literature which we believe to be gaining a surer hold and a widening influence.
While with one class of readers there is certain degradation,
as there must be with forces so active as to carry them
downwards, with another there is a steady and progressive
elevation, as there are books to foster such an improvement.
Such are the histories which attract and instruct; the
biographies which leave a glow in the minds of their
readers; the poetry that is both popular and elevating; the
criticism  that discerns undiscovered beauties in our favor



100              Books and Reading.         [CHAP. VIII.
ite authors; the travels that almost reconcile us to the necessity that forbids us to wander; and the tales that sparkle without corrupting, and that let us laugh and still be
wise.
It is still more grateful to imagine the time when Books
and Reading for the people shall become altogether good
in their influence; when their agency, which is to the
health of the mind what the atmosphere is to that of the
body, shall be like a fine June or October morning; invigorating, exciting, inspiring-an atmosphere in whose
breath is no poison, detected or concealed; no seeds of
plague, neither the rank and offensive nor the delightful
but deadly.
Such a literature would be both flower and fruit of a
perfected Christian civilization, and in that sense a truly
Christian literature. But what is the just conception of
a Christian literature has been a matter of some question.
The conception itself is also not easy in all respects to define; we must therefore defer the consideration of it to a
separate discussion.




CHAPTER IX.
THE RELIGIOUS CHARACTER AND INFLUENCE OF BOOKS
AND READING.
FROM the moral, we proceed to the religious relations
of books and reading. The two are very nearly allied,
and yet each requires to be discussed apart from the other.
Their affinity suggests similar criteria in judging of
books, and similar rules in using them. As the law of
duty is in its very nature supreme, so the sanctions of religion are, by their very sacredness, inviolable. As what
we obey from conscience should be obeyed without reserve,
so what we reverence as divine must- be worshiped
without a rival. Duty gives law in all relations and to
every kind of action, and religion asserts attractions which
outshine and exclude rivals of every sort, even in the
forms of culture, art, or literature.
We have seen that whatever in books or reading weakens the conscience or corrupts the moral feelings, should be
rejected as evil. By the same rule, it follows that whatever in either hinders or depresses the religious life should
be scrupulously avoided. The religious nature, though it
is sanctioned and controlled by the conscience, is more
sensitive than the conscience itself. It feels a stain like a
wound, not merely as doing violence to the most sensitive
emotions, but as involving dishonor to the objects and persons hallowed for its worship and trust. If, then, we converse with any book, or practice any reading which consciously interfere with our religious faith or fervor, we
should dismiss the one and desist from the other without
hesitation or compromise.
101




102             Books and Reading.            [CHAP. IX.
This rule applies both to faith and feeling, the two elements of the religious life. Whatever in literature disturbs or weakens our faith, injures us in a vital point, inasmuch as it cuts off or dries up the fountain of life.
Whatever disturbs or shocks the religious emotions, introduces discord into the harmony of.the highest and best
sensibilities. This rule is very general, and, so to speak,
is entirely formal. It neither provides for nor regulates
its own application.  Whether or not the effect or the
tendency of a particular book, or the reading of an author
or a class of writings, is good, evil, or indifferent in these
respects, must be decided by every man for himself.
Books that are harmless or useful to one man, may be injurious to another.  Reading which is useful to the religious life of one, may be worse than useless to that of another. Every reader who is capable of independent judgment must decide for himself. Those whose judgments
are immature, or whose tastes are unformed, should ask
advice of those whom they have learned to trust.
We cannot overlook or deny the fact that the religious
faith of some men is perversely narrow, bigoted, and positive; while that of others is broad, lax, and uncertain.
The religious feelings of one are gloomy and depressing;
those of another are irreverent and presumptuous. But
whatever the faith and feelings are, they constitute the religious life of the individual; and this life is, for him,
sacred and supreme, whether it is strong or weak, whether
it is well or ill controlled.  The effect of books and reading upon each individual can be measured and estimated
best by himself.
We must also assume and concede that the faith of
every man should be founded upon reason, after weighing the arguments for and against its conclusions. The
duty to read books of argument or evidence for or against
our creed, it falls not within our plan to discuss or to en



CHAP. Ix.]     Their Religious Character.          103
force. This subject belongs obviously to the debatable
and vexed department of polemics, and tends so directly
to awaken special jealousies as properly to be excluded
from consideration. It would be nothing less than discourteous, if indeed it were nothing more, to assume or imply that the faith and worship of any one of our readers
were not the products of thought and reflection-were nat
commended to his conscience and justified by his reason.
All these things being assumed and conceded, we re-assert with greater emphasis, that whatever in books and
reading, whatever in literary enjoyment or culture, hinders
the religious activity or lowers the tone of religious faith
and feeling, should be abandoned at the cost of any pain
or sacrifice. We assert with equal confidence, that every
man must judge for himself what in fact hinders or helps
him in this regard. We insist also, that in many cases a
book may seriously hinder the religious life by lowering
the tone of faith and feeling, even if it does not lead to
avowed unbelief, to hesitating skepticism, or bold irreverence. If we may not safely yield ourselves to the personal
influence of an unbelieving or irreverent man, we should
for the same or still stronger reasons, hesitate to expose
ourselves to the sophistries or scoffings of a fascinating
writer who is atheistic or profane. Indeed, the fascinations of a bad man are less ensnaring than those of a bad
book which is written with brilliancy and power. A man
who is atheistic and profane may, it is true, be dangerously attractive from the force and fascinations of his very
presence and the charms of his conversation; but he must
also be repellent to sensitive natures, from the defiant hardness which usually attends upon wilful unbelief, and the
selfish heartlessness which commonly lurks behind irreverent feeling, however refined may be the culture or polished
the manners. But in a book these defects and repellencies
are not so obvious, and hence the poison to the soul may




104             Books and Reading.           [CHAr. IX.
be the more readily conveyed, for the very reason that it
is not so obtrusive to the perceptions. The powerful or
brilliant genius that knows how to heighten those ideal
attractions which altogether surpass any impersonated
charms, is equally skilful in suppressing that offensiveness
which cleaves to evil when personated in a man. For
these and manifold reasons, a bad book, though its energy
may not be so intense and striking, may, by its subtle and
insidious influences, be far more dangerous in a religious
regard than a bad man, however plausible and attractive
are his manners or conversation.
The inquiry will here be interposed: Do we not associate freely and often intimately, with living men whose
religious faith,-or no faith,-we reject, and with whose
feelings we cannot sympathize? Should we not count it
folly to do otherwise?  Why, then, should not we do the
same with those books which are openly anti-religious, or
which are divergent from our own faith and feelings? We
answer, We may do the one and also the other. The rule
is not that we may never read nor even study books of the
class described, but it is that whenever the reading or the
study does us positive harm, or tends to a conscious evil,
then such books should be abandoned and proscribed for
our individual use. The Great Master of the faiths of
Christendom, and in a sense even of its no-faiths, has laid
down the rule,'If thine eye causes thee to offend, pluck it
out.' Is a book, a favorite author, or a course of reading,
worth more to us than the eye or the hand? Or may we
say or think that because we have become great readers we
have outgrown the authority of Christ's teachings? Surely
not those which concern our duty and allegiance to Himself. Shall we count Him too severe when He comes into
our libraries to scrutinize our reading and to judge our
literature? Not surely if we remember that this censor
v.nd judge, who is seemingly so severe upon some of our




CaP. IX.]    Their Religious Chacracter.        105
books and reading, has done more than all the writers and
all the culture of all the ages, to excite the imagination, to
elevate the emotions, to give power and breadth, tone and
pathos to what we call modern, but should call Christian literature; that he has given themes and inspiration to Dante
and Milton, to Tasso and Shakspeare, to Wordsworth and
Coleridge, to Schiller and Tennyson, to Scott and the
Brownings, to Dickens and Hawthorne-has not only subclued modern thought and feeling by his authority, but in
so doing, has elevated and transfigured modern thought and
feeling to the enlargement and the aspirations of which
modern literature is the splendid product.
But here it will be insisted, and with great apparent
truth, that literature is in its very nature free, and the
imagination in order to be creative must for the time be
freed from those restraints which the actual and the practical both acknowledge. " Literature," it will be urged, " has
always in its influence been catholic and liberalizing, for
the simple reason that it has embodied in its products the
results of every form of thought and opinion, and every
shade of sentiment and emotion, without respect to the
exactest orthodoxy of opinion, or the precise quality or intensity of the religious feelings. It has served as the one
l'beralizing agency in the world of controversy and intolerance by providing a common arena where the professors of
all faiths have met on the footing of courteous toleration,
have had access to each other's views, and learned rightly
to appreciate and judge emotions with which they have
not sympathized. Had it not been for this fusing and
liberalizing influence, it is urged, theology would have
been hopelessly bigoted and unreformed, every sect and
party would have shut itself up within its own narrow
pale, and those humane and charitable sentiments which
are acknowledged as the genuine products of true religion
would scarcely have found expression or influence.: It is




106              Books and Reading.          [CrAP. IS.
to a free and catholic literature that theology owes thanks
for its most important advancements, and it is from such
a literature that religion has learned to be charitable and
humane. From the days of those Athenian bigots, who
caused the martyrdom of Socrates in the interest of an
established religion, down to the latest mitigation of the
ferocity of Christian theologians, literature has been most
efficient in improving theology, while the culture fostered
by literature, when untrammeled by religion, has in its
turn humanized religious sentiment, as well as refined the
means and methods of expressing it. Above all, literature
in its freedom has refined and elevated that prime instrument of both culture and religion-the human imagination.
But literature has only been able to accomplish these
changes by acting on an independent footing, and by maintaining a position aloof from and above all current crude
and narrow controversies; especially the intense and exclusive emotions that belong to the zealot and devotee. It is
only as men of genius have compelled the religionist to
allow them an exemption from his narrow sympathies that
they have made for literature a sphere of its own, a refuge
and a home for all noble and ennobling emotions, a veritable Delectable Ground where the imagination may disport
itself freely and be refreshed."
This is true and important. But on the other hand the
commands of the Master are definite and uncompromising,
if we could only ascertain what they signify. Moreover, it
is in the world of thought and imagination that He claims
especial control, because it is here that the principles are
formed and the affections find their nurture. It is because
the imagination is so nearly allied to faith that her power to
hinder or to help is so unlimited, and that literature itself
becomes to religion either the deadliest foe or the most
potent ally. There are not a few who say, "Leave to religion and literature independent spheres.    As of science




CHAP. IX.]   Teir Religious Character.             107
so of literary activity, their maxim is,'Render to Coesar
the things which are Coesar's, and to God the things which
are God's.' Allow  to each untrammeled activity. As
religionists we must maintain our creed, as worshipers we
must perform our devotions. These should satisfy the demands of religion, but in the sphere of literature we may
claim and use the utmost freedom. As readers and critics
we need not care whether what we read is in opinion Theistic and Christian, on the one hand, or atheistic and
Christless on the other; whether in sentiment it is devout
and thankful, or Godless and despairing; whether it is
reverent and trustful, or scoffing and profane." This device
is accepted by some and practiced by more. The sermon
on Sunday and the Scripture on the week-day are dutifully
attended to; the prayers are said and the songs are sung
morning and evening with earnest devoutness; and so religion has her rights. Religion having received its dues
literature asserts its claims.  Forthwith  our favorite
authors plunge us into an atmosphere of thought and feeling in which there is neither God, nor Christ, nor thankfulness, nor hope; or perhaps into an atmosphere which is
"earthly, sensual, devilish."  Such a compromise as it
would seem, is a hollow truce, an armed neutrality, giving
the amplest opportunity for disguised treachery on the one
hand and a compliant surrender on the other. It can
satisfy no religionist whose belief is any thing more than a
tradition to accept or a symbol to swear by, or whose worship is aught.beyond a superstition or a spectacular display.
The man whose religion does not show itself in forming
and regulating his taste for books and reading, or which
allows a practical libertinism in this regard, might as well
dispensewith it altogether. He can hardly be said to have
any religion " worth the speaking of."
It is in these forms that the question of the religious
relations of books and reading presents itself at the present




108             Books and Reading.          [CHAP. IX.
day. Religion on the one hand urges its authority, and
this authority knows no compromise. On the other hand,
literature rightfully asserts its freedom, shows that this
freedom has the sanction of Christianity itself, and has
most efficiently served Christianity by making it tolerant
and humane. "I would not read Shelley's Queen Mab,
because it is atheistic," said one college friend to another.
"Why not read Shelley," replied the other, "as soon as
Lucretius, who is far more deliberately and consistently
atheistic; or as soon as Homer or Virgil, those hoary old
assertors of'lords many and gods many?' And yet you
not only allow yourself to read these inveterate sinners, but
you would steep the minds of the young in the literature of
antiquity, pervaded as it is with the exploded orthodoxies
of the past."  Again, it is asked, "Why not read the
modern Emerson, because some say that he teaches a subtle Pantheism, as freely as you read the ancient Plotinus,
to whom he refers so often, and with a deference so profound; or as you read those Indian sages, from whom he
quotes a striking line now and then, with the intimation
that should he tell us all they have written, Jesus and His
teachings might be greatly cast into the shade, and perhaps
lose much of that public confidence with which they have
hitherto been favored?" " Or why is it worse for a Christian family to be amused by the clever caricatures of
Holmes than it is to read and laugh at the lampoons of
Lucian,'inasmuch as both are directed against the same
object, the current Christian orthodoxies of the nineteenth
and second centuries?"
Questions like these are not unfrequently asked, and it is
not always easy to answer them. It issafe to say, that whoever the author may be, whether he be Shelley or Lucretius, Emerson or Plotinus, Holmes or Lucian, if he
shakes your well-established confidence in God, or leads
you to disown the name that is above every name; or if he




CHAP. IX.]   Their Religious Character.          109
disturbs the serenity or fervor of your Christian devotions,
then he is not an author whom you should read. If he
does not exercise this influence over you, if he casts upon
you no spell or blight of evil, you may admire his genius
and rejoice in its products, while you are amazed at his
presumption and pity his blindness to the light which to
you is so cheerful and satisfying. As between the ancient
and modern Pantheists and anti-Christians, one difference,
however, deserves to be noticed. The older writers represent principles and modes of thinking that are more or less
effete. Their arguments and images have little force with
the present generation, occupied as it is with modern
thought and  animated by the modern  spirit.  Their
modern followers invest their opinions with'the dignity of
present science, and make them glow with the interest of
current thought, as well as breathe the warmth of men
who have the ear and the sympathy of the present generation. The philosopher of ancient times protests against
degrading and childish superstitions, and, by contrast,
finds an advantage for his deification of nature and his
serene and self-relying resignation to fate. The modern
rejects the personal care and scorns the personal sympathy
of an Infinite Father. The ancient stands with his eye to
the east peering-sometimes wistfully-after the faint indications of the dawning twilight; himself a dark and cold
shadow against the breaking light of the, as yet, unrisen
sun. The modern looks westward with his back proudly
turned on its risen splendor, amid a world that from every
object reflects its pervading light; himself suffused with
that light and glowing with the attractions which it gives,
but denying that it proceeds from the sun or that the sun is
risen and shines. The Atheist or Pantheist of antiquity is
a cold spectre, shivering in the chill morning. His imitator of the nineteenth century, rejoices in the strength and




110            Books and Reading.            [CHAP. IX.
glows with the beauty of the high noon of the Christian
day. While his power to attract and move the men of his
time gives plausibility and currency to the little argument
which he employs, these very attractions are its most efficient refutation, because they are all derived from the
Christian Faith or the civilization which has flowered from
its roots.




CHAPTER X.
A CHRISTIAN LITERATURE —-OW CONCEIVED AND DEFINED.
THESE several inquiries and arguments-these marchings and counter-marchings of thought which we have
taken, —force upon us the more general inquiry: Is there
anything which can properly be called a Christian literature? If so, what is it? How can it be defined so as to
secure, on the one hand, the essential freedom which literature imperatively requires, and on the other, the deference
to Christianity which Christianity uncompromisingly exacts? How far can we be tolerant of every variety of
sentiment and opinion and yet be just to our allegiance to
the great Master of our faith, and indeed, of modern literature?
These questions are very much vexed in modern thinking, and the answers to them are also vexatious to many
who strive to adjust the claims of culture and of Christian
feeling. They cannot be answered without considering
what is the correct conception of literature, as well as what
must be taken as essential to Christianity so far as it
should be recognized in literature. In respect to both
these points, the views of many are diverse and unsettled.
Hence the term Christian literature is used by different
men ill senses which are exceedingly vague, and often
plainly contradictory. We shall best explain our own
meaning by asking first, What a Christian literature is
not, and second, What it is?
A Christian literature is not necessarily Theological in
111




112             Books and Reading.            [CHAP. x.
its matter or form. Theological treatises, however able
and convincing, are not therefore works of literature.
They may be convincing and exhaustive in argument, and
erudite in history, without that perfection of style, that attractiveness of imagery, or that eloquence of feeling which
are the requisites of whatever is dignified as literature.
Vlhile in one sense we include in literature all -the products of human thinking which are made permanent in
books or pamphlets-and in this sense everything that is
printed belongs to the literature of the day, of the week, or
of the century-we usually require certain characteristics
of form and illustration for that which we call literature
in the eminent sense. Theology is not of course included
in Christian literature because it is Christian, if it does not
possess these special features; nor, again, should it be excluded from its sphere because its themes are both religious and Christian. Some of the finest contributions to
modern literature have been works of theology.  The
writings of Bossuet, Massillon, Hooker, Taylor, Howe,
Robert Hall, Mason, Edward Irving, Channing, Coleridge, Robertson, and many others, hold the highest rank
as literary compositions.
Not every devotional or practical treatise is a contribution to Christian literature. By the rule already given,
many devotional works fall within, but many more fall without this sphere. The Hebrew Psalms; many Christian
hymns, as  of  Milton, Watts, Wesley, Heber, Keble,
Faber and J. H. Newman; to say nothing of the Latin
and German Lyrists, all give grace and beauty to Christian literature. With them are ranked a few devotional
and practical works, such as the De Imitatione Christi,
The Holy Living and Dying, The Pilgrim's Progress, etc.
But it is no dishonor to say of numerous products of devotional rhyming and meditation, that they belong to literature in no tolerable sense of the word, and therefore not to




CHAP. X.]       A  Christian Literature.             113
Christian literature at all. They may be useful in their
sphere, and therefore deserve to be tolerated and even encouraged, but they are not literature.  They may be honestly thought and earnestly written, and withal be very useful for the circle of readers for whom they are designed.
Perhaps from their plainness and want of formal attracdions they are fitted to be more useful than works of
greater ability and genius. The man who requires the
highest perfection in form and diction may be content
with them for their Christian excellence, but he is not
therefore obliged to be pleased with what is uncultured
in language, mean in illustration, and commonplace in
thought.  That which is positively offensive in both form
and conception may be a positive injury to the cause which
it professes to serve. The claim is sometimes set up that
Christianity is to be held responsible for the mass of
wretched doggerel and drivelling that has been written by
its earnest but uncultured disciples, and that every reverent Christian is obliged to treat it with respect and read it
with deference. The claim is preposterous, and to seem to
allow it by those whose taste it offends or whose intellect it does not instruct, is to sin against both taste and
Christianity. Such stuff may be tolerated when it is useful, but is only to be endured as a useful evil. To recommend or to circulate all sorts of goodish writing
because of its Christian aims, or to encourage the reading
and printing of it, under the title of a Christian literature, is to commit nothing less than a pious fraud, which
is as weak as it is dishonest.
A Christian literature is not usually written in the interest or with the spirit of a Christian sect or denomination.
While it is the impulse and the duty of every such division
of Christian confessors to set forth and to defend its distinctive tenets, and while the champions of each are often most
eloquent and able in such vindications, it is to be observed
8




114              Books and Reading.           [cHAP. X.
that the themes which most readily challenge the intellect
to its noblest achievements, and inspire the imagination to
its loftiest flights, are the truths which the Christian Church
holds in common. Those religious and Christian writers
whose works have been received as the permanent glories
of literature, if they have written for their own communion,
have usually addressed what was Christian in it, and by
this means have found a response in the Christian sentiment of all believers.
Again: A work need not be religious, either in matter
or form —it need neither avow Christian doctrines nor express Christian feelings-to deserve a place in Christian
literature. A history, a novel, a poem, a tale, an essay, a
drama may be eminently Christian without uttering the
name of Christ or recognizing directly a faith in His person or teachings, and without even expressing those emotions which are distinctively religious. No disavowal or
denial of Christian truths can be allowed, no dishonor
may be put upon the sentiments of Christian faith, hope,
and worship, but the obtrusion of either for the purpose of
expressing the creed of the writer, or of confirming that
of the reader, may be forbidden by the proprieties of the
occasion, and be so manifestly an offense against good taste
as to hinder rather than help the good cause. All that
may properly be required is, that the work should be such
as a Christian writer might be supposed to produce without inconsistency, and such as a devout Christian reader
might be conceived as reading, without offense to his
opinions and feelings. This leads us to consider positively
what a Christian literature is or ought to be. If it need
not be theological, devotional, practical, or even religious,
in order to be Christian, pray how can it be characterized
and judged? We reply: First,
A Christian literature must be controlled and pervaded
by those ethical faiths and emotions that are distinctively




CHAP. X.]       A  Christian Literature.          115
Christian. Many of these have become so completely the
property of Christendom that it is often forgotten that they
are the products of Christianity. They have been accepted
more or less intelligently and consistently as constituting
the right standard of the true and the good for the human
race, and the measure of what is ideally noble in human
attainment and desirable for human aspiration. They influence communities which would scarcely call themselves
Christian. Not a few individuals who are ambitious to
show that they think very slightingly of the claims of
Christ's person, or of the influence of the Christian church,
are foremost to pay homage to the eternal truth and the
unquestioned excellence of those ethical faiths and feelings
which we claim are distinctively Christian, and which we
assert should characterize any literature which is in any
sense Christian. The faith in the moral order of the universe as supreme and beneficent, because directed by a
holy and sympathizing Father, the belief in the ultimate
triumph of the good and the right, the conviction that love
to God and love to man comprehend all goodness-are
some of these prominent ethicalfaiths. Hope in adversity,
resignation under affliction, penitence for transgression,
forgiveness under wrong, the desire to recover and reform
the vicious, charity in judging of the motives of other men
-these and many kindred feelings are distinctively Christian feelings. Just in the measure in which these faiths
and feelings give spirit and tone to the productions of any
writer, just in that proportion is he a Christian writer.
Just in the measure in which any one or all of these emotions and convictions, fail to show their presence and
power when required, does the writer of any work depart
from the Christian and fall back into the Pagan spirit.
We do not speak of the obtrusive or pharisaical lip-service
of an essayist or poet, but of the homage of the convictions
and the heart. We do not require ill-placed or obtrusive




116              Books and Reading.            [CHAP. x.
moralizing, or wearisome cant.  These are sometimes as
eminently unchristian in fact as'they are pretentiously
Christian in form. But we insist that any writer who does
not accept the faiths, and sympathize with the emotions
which are Christian, is not a Christian writer, in whatever
year of grace he may write or whatever may be the charm
or the power of his thinking or his style. Let those who
write in the faith of Stoicism and with the feelings to
which it schools the heart, receive all the honor which
they deserve for their gifts or genius, but let them not ask
to be called Christian writers. Nor let their genial selfcomplacence be ruffled by the slightest ripple of contemptuous disdain if critics or readers who receive a more
humane, -i. e. a less "advanced" (or retrograde)-practical
creed than themselves, shall fear or avoid their influence as
ethically defective or injurious.
But Christianity, even as it influences literature, is more
than an ethical system. It would be easy to show that
the faiths and emotions which have been enumerated, have
all been matured by the power of a belief in the personal
and historic Christ. Whatever value or dignity they may
have in the judgment of the race which has been trained
to accept and approve them —whatever hold they may have
gained upon the sentiment and the literature of Christendom,
is owing to the energy with which this faith in the person
of Christ has wrought upon the minds of His believing disciples. This positive faith has not wholly died out. However confidently it may be claimed that all the "advanced
thinkers" of the times reject the historic traditions of the
gospels and the church, it remains true that a large number
of thinking and cultured men still retain this faith, and
recognize this faith in the varied literature which they produce and delight in. Whatever they write, whether it be
poem, novel, essay, or history, is written in the spirit of a
fervent faith in Christ as their Master and Saviour, and as




CHAP. X.]       A  Christian Literature.           117
the destined Judge and King of the whole human raceas the master of the world's future thinking and the central
inspirer of its future literature. There are others who do
not attach this importance to His person or to faith in it,
who find in Christ nothing more than a genius remarkable
for ethical discernment and religious tenderness, for whom
all claims to special homage or confidence must be abandoned, with the progress of knowledge and of insight. In
this spirit they write not works of grave theology alone,
nor treatises of sagacious and learned philosophy, but works
of literature, essays, poems, histories, and fictions.
In respect to writings of this class we are required to ask
and to answer the questions, Are they Christian writings?
Is the literature which they compose Christian literature?
If they are not Christian for defect of faith in the person
of Christ, how precise must that faith be made and what
one of the manifold shades of alleged orthodoxy upon this
subject must it assume in order to be accepted as Christian?
To this we reply, and in doing so develop the second distinctive mark of a Christian literature:
That literature alone is Christian which recognizes Christ
as the object of trust and reverence. Christ's own language
is here most pertinent.  "Ye call me Master and Lord;
and ye do well, for so I am." This test is reasonable, for
the reason that so far as literature as such can be affected
by the faith of a writer, it must be chiefly affected by his
faith or his want of faith in the personal authority and
position of Him from whom Christianity takes its name.
We cannot agree with Emerson that " by the irresistible
maturing of the general mind, the Christian traditions
have lost their hold. The dogma of the.mystic offices of
Christ being dropped, and lie standing on His genius as a
moral teacher,'tis impossible to maintain the old emphasis
of His personality; and it recedes, as all persons must,
before the sublimity of the moral laws."  We believe that




118            Books and Reading.'[CHAP. x.
all the movements of thought and feeling must be affected
by the presence or absence of this faith in Christ's personality. Mr. Emerson would be the last to deny that up to
a very recent period the intellect and heart of Christendom
have been swayed by this faith in Christ's person as a ruling principle, and that much of the manhood and more of
the womanhood which is reflected in modern literature, is
represented as formed by its influence. The two not uncommon prints from Ary Scheffer, the Christus Consolator
and Christus Remunerator, forcibly depict what have been
the central forces of the Christian literature of the past, as
well as symbolize its distinctive criteria in all time.
The criterion we propose, is reasonable and just. If a
man does not believe in the reality or significance of
Christ's person, his disbelief must modify his judgments
of the characters and the sentiments which are formed by
this faith. He may respect these for their sincerity, but
he cannot honor them for their reasonableness. The emotions to which they prompt, the style of character which
they form, the hopes and fears which they inspire, the
principles of action which they create, in a word, the manhood and the womanhood which they produce, cannot receive his full and hearty sympathy. Let a writer have a
marvellous power of passing into the character which he
depicts, and of feeling for the time the very emotions
which the character he impersonates should express; still
the capacity of truly and adequately rendering the emotions of a Christian soul can scarcely be reached by him,
if they do not awaken his believing sympathy. Goethe's
delineation of the Confessions of a Beautiful Soul in Wilhelm Meister, Geqrge Eliot's Dinah in Adam Bede, might
be cited as instances against this position. Both these writers, it will be generally conceded, do not accept the faith
which controlled the feelings of the characters whom they
depict. Shall we call these delineations failures? Goethe




CamP. X.]      A  Christian Literature.            119
succeeds in most respects in hiding his own face beneath the
mask and robes which he assumes, but the voice of Jacob at
times betrays the half-sympathizing, half-mocking skeptic,
even in the most plaintive tones of confession and of hope.
Of Dinah we scarcely can trust ourselves to speak. The
character is so eminently and heartily Christian, even in
the most of its finer shades, that we do not care to point
out the particulars in which it betrays the want of the
entirest sympathy on the part of the author.  Surely it
was written from the fresh remembrances of days of warm
and confiding Christian faith, now perhaps under the chill
of an honest, and, a temporary eclipse.
To use this criterion is also historically just. We do not
call Plato, Plotinus, or Epictetus, Christian writers, however noble be their faith, or lofty their ethics, for the
reason that neither the one nor the other are Christian in the
historic sense of the word. We do not call Julian a Christian because he would exalt the Christ whom he disowned
among the sages and gods of the ancient mythology; nor
do we call Spinoza a Christian writer, because his ethics
are so lofty and his resignations are so saint-like. Pray,
what should we call Emerson, or Thoreau, or the hosts of
"advanced thinkers" who in their writings obtrusively
announce their absence of faith in the received import of
the Christian history, and in the lowest possible significance of the central personage in that history; who quietly
assume that it is now beyond dispute, among all those
whose opinions are entitled to respect, that this history is
an effete mythology, and that Christ as a personage to be
trusted and adored, is an exploded imposture? Or what
shall we call those literary critics who in their judgments
of history or philosophy, of poetry or fiction, tacitly assume
or confidently assert that the results of what is significantly
called "negative criticism," in respect to a belief in the
miraculous and the supernatural, are now accepted by all




120              Books and Reading.           [clAP. x.
enlightened and well-read thinkers?  We make a difference, it is true, between those whose intellects are oppressed
with perplexities, while their hearts are thoroughly Christian,.and the confident and contemptuous anti-Christian;
between those who long to believe, but who cannot fully
accept the Christian record and the truths which it contains, who are yet devout worshipers of the as yet unknown
God and the unfathomed Christ, and those who desire no
God but "the beneficent laws," and no Christ but some
idealized human genius. There is an important sense in
which it is true that
"There lives more faith in honest doubt
Believe me, than in half the creeds."
To call this literature and these writers a-Christian,
un-Christian, or anti-Christian, is not intolerant.  We do
not desire to suppress either by law or by the force of
public opinion. We will defend the right of those who
hold their opinions to propagate them to the utmost of
their ability, by all those means which are recognized as
proper by the laws of the country and the courtesies of
literary freedom. Not only would we tolerate them in the
propagation of their theologies and philosophies, but we
hold ourselves ready to study their reasons, to weigh their
arguments, and ponder their facts, with the utmost attention and care. We will even welcome them to the arena
of public criticism and discussion, as those who are likely
to render an important service to the cause of truth and
Christianity, just so far as they present facts for our consideration, or arguments for our scrutiny. But we claim
from them a like toleration in turn. They may not regard
questions as settled to the disadvantage of Christianity,
which we consider as open for its vindication. Least of
all may they seek to transfer the discussions which are
appropriate to the fields of philosophy and theology-the




CHAP. X.]      A Christian Literature.            121
recognized fields of lawful strife-into the arena of literature, where the rights of the flag of truce prevail. A
truly knightly soul would scorn under such a flag to ask
for any one-sided courtesy. We welcome these writers to
the arena of discussion when they present themselves as
theologians and philosophers, and concede to them all the
rights of toleration which we ask for ourselves; but when
they claim the one-sided privilege of proclaiming at our
fire-sides, with cold-blooded assurance or sardonic scorn,
that the victory is with them, over our cherished faiths,
our hallowed worships, and our immortal hopes, we deny
that the question is any longer a question of tolerance.
Nor is our position discourteous. It is not discourteous
to call certain writers, rejecters of Christ as an object of
love and confidence, or to say of them that they make literature a medium by which to express and propagate their
private opinions. Whether it is altogether courteous on
their part to obtrude these opinions in ways so manifold
and unnecessary, is a question which we will not discuss.
If it is true, as they insist so often as at least to persuade
themselves, that those who adhere to the old faith in
Christ's personality, are blind to argument and ignorant of
history, that they know nothing of criticism, and are unacquainted with philosophy, it would be a matter of
humanity at least to leave such to the quiet enjoyment of
their own ignorance and want of thought. If it is not discourteous to dishonor what they revere, and satirize what
they respect, it is at least inhuman to make them uncomfortable. If it is not indictable under the statutes o.f discourtesy, it may at least be condemned under the laws
against cruelty to the ignorant and imbecile.
Our position is not proscriptive. We do not contend
that these anti-Christian writers are never to be read, admired, and enjoyed by a person who rejects their version
of the New  Testament history; but only that if they




122             Books and Reading.           [CaAP. x.
weaken his faith and disturb his peace by an indirect suggestion of sentiments and opinions that are incongruous
with his own, he had better leave them alone, or have to
do with them only so far as his taste and conscience will
allow. We do not disuse the literature of the old Pagans,
nor need we forego the use and enjoyment of the new,
provided we recognise them as Pagans.
" No one who acknowledges Christ," writes Dr. Thomas
Arnold, "can be indifferent to Him, but stands in such relations to Him that the highest reverence must be predominant in His mind when thinking or writing of Him."
"If I think that Christ was no more than Socrates (I do
not mean in degree but in kind,) I can, of course, speak
of Him impartially; that is, I assume at once that there
are faults and imperfections in His character and on these
pass my judgment, but if I believe in Him, I am not His
judge, but His servant and creature, and He claims the
devotion of my whole nature, because HIe is identified with
goodness, wisdom and holiness."
We admire all that this literature presents for our admiration of truth in morals and philosophy, and of beauty
in imagery and diction; even though we are-disturbed at the
poverty of its argumentation, the recklessness of its assertions, and the undisguised effrontery of its self-satisfied
illumination. But we are not prepared to substitute, at its
bidding, the worship of Genius for the worship of a higher
Master, least of all, the worship of a genius that in some
respects is so superficial, even though in others it is so
admirable.
The influence of this anti-Christian literature is far more
prevalent in this country, than it is in England. With us
the majority of the cultivated men are not authors and
critics, but theologians, lawyers, physicians, politicians,
and projectors of all types. Of the few who have been the
most distinguished in fiction, poetry, and criticism, not a




CHAP. x.]       A  Christian Literature.           123
small party sympathize with a very much smaller party in
England in holding what is called a negative or uncertain
position in respect to the very grave questions which are
now so earnestly agitated concerning Theism and Supernatural Christianity. * The readers and students of literature technically so-called, among us, are more impressible
in any direction to which their favorite authors and critics
may lead them, than are those of a similar class in any
other country. Confident assertion in imposing phraseology
and under attractive imagery, passes for more with us than
with any other cultivated people. The critical journal,
whether it be quarterly, monthly, weekly, or daily, insinuates most successfully what it believes, or rather what it
fails to believe. While there is no country in which the
Christian faith has a stronger hold'upon the convictions of
earnest and sober thinkers, or upon the feelings of the truehearted, it cannot be denied that among the cultivated
classes as such, that is, the classes devoted to literature as
a passion and an employment, there prevails a practical, if
not an avowed Paganism, in one of the two forms of a
philanthropic Stoicism or a refined Epicureanism. We
call it Paganism, because, though it accepts the ethical
spirit which Christianity has created, it is as far removed
from  the Christian worship of a personal God and the
Christian trust in Christ, as was the cultured but comfortless Philosophy of Athens, which ostentatiously erected
manifold altars to the Unknown God-which was always.eager to run after any novelty in speculation, but conld
make nothing of the teachings of Paul the Apostle.
This literary Paganism with its culture and its confidence, with its positive and not always courteous assertions
that science and history are entirely upon its side, has no
need to ask for toleration. It has little occasion to complain of social persecution. It is far enough from being
in danger of reproach or ostracism, while it has the hearty




124             Books and Reading.           [CHAP Sx.
sy.mpathy of multitudes who are so ambitious of culture as
to be ready to accept any novelty in the form of speculative suggestions or brilliant improvisation.
We do not propose to discuss the influence or the prospects
of this Pagan tendency in Americarn or in modern literature. Had we no higher assurance that its influence must
be short-lived, history would teach us that its vagueness
and barrenness must soon dry up its life. That a vigorous
literature cannot be long sustained in an atmosphere of nofaith is demonstrably certain. The creative and fervent
periods of English literature have been closely connected
with the prevalence of a positive Christian belief, and a
fervent Christian feeling. Among the writers of* eminent
genius now living who are influenced by the Pagall spirit,
there is not one who does not give tokens of the blight and
depression which the cheerfulness and fervor of a better
hope would remove.
But we need not pursue our theme in these new directions. Its practical aspects have already detained us too
long.




CHAPTER XI.
HISTORY AND HISTORICAL READING.
WE propose to leave the discussion of books and reading
in general, and to proceed to some more particular observations upon different classes of books and different kinds of
reading. Perhaps in so doing our thoughts may be less
general than they have been; we cannot promise that they
will be anything more than useful.
We begin with History. It seems natural to begin at
this point, as history is the favorite and the common field
of all industrious readers. The bright-minded boy, who is
withal a little solid and thoughtful, if he is known among
his companions as a great reader, usually takes a special
delight in History. If he is merely bright-minded, he
may be satisfied with novels or plays, childish or otherwise; but if he is also intelligent and curious, lie uniformly
takes to History. He usually does this very early, and
not rarely he follows this taste so passionately as to seem
more at home in the old and the distant than in the new
and the near. Such a boy often, in the first gush of his
historic enthusiasm, thinks and talks more of Athens and
Pericles, of Rome and Julius Coesar, of Moscow and Napoleon, than he does of the places and the men that are present to his senses. This taste is also conspicuous in the
earnest and thoughtful among so-called well-informed men,
as the steady and sturdy mechanic or farmer who thinks
for himself, who expresses opinions on public affairs to
which other men listen in a debating-club or a town-meeting, or when occupied in earnest talk at a shop or grocery.
125




120             Books and Reading.          [CHAP. XI.
Now and then we meet with a thoughtful old lady or an
intelligent old gentleman, to whom history has all their life
been both instruction and pastime, and the result is seen
and felt in the mellowed and comprehensive views which
they utter upon every subject of which they chance to speak.
They are rightly revered as the oracles of their circle.
History has also a kind of precedence.from having been
the first form of writing. Books of history are the oldest
written productions. This was both natural and necessary.
The child of modern times sits on the father's knee, to listen to the stories of what happened in his childhood to
himself and his play-mates-how they hunted in the forest
and sported on the holidays. And so, as we may believe,
was it ihn the earlier times. In the morning of the race,
the reverent family and the deferential tribe gathered often
about their patriarch to hear the story many times repeated,
of those whom he had known-brave warriors, great hunters, sagacious inventors and skilful artists. As soon as
language was framed into connected phrases, history began
to be recited. The story-teller, as he wrote or read upon
the monument of stone or wood the names of great men or
the dates of great events, would expound at length the
tales of which these names and numbers were only the
suggestive texts. Now and then, if he had a rhythmic
tongue and a vivid imagination he would frame history
into a ballad-like the song of Chevy Chase, or the ballads
collected by Scott in "The Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border," or by Percy in "The Reliques of English Poetry,"
or " Frithiof's Saga "-which he would recite to his family
or clan, in the long twilight, or under the bright starlight,
or in the deep arctic nights. Others would recite to
crowds on festive occasions-' as at the feast of Tabernacles
among the Jews; or at the Olympic games among the
Greeks when the poems of Homer were chanted in recitative; or as in the middle ages the wandering bard made




CHAP. XTI.]   story and Historical Reading.        127
himself welcome by his impassioned histories in verse.  In
many of these earlier histories, not only the power of description was brought into requisition, but the imagination
was allowed the freest play. Literal truth was not always so
much cared for as an effective story, especially one in favor
of the heroes or penates of a family or tribe. Such stories
would grow most rapidly in transmission, and what was at
first a somewhat faithful narration, would soon become
more or less of a poetic exaggeration. When History
begins to be written for the sober ends of truth, as by
Ilerodotus, its so-called Father, there is manifest abundant
credulity and play of fancy. This spirited and cheerful
narrator, with much  that was true and well-attested,
gathered together somewhat loosely much that he had
picked up in his travels of the traditions that had come
down from preceding generations in their narratives and
songs, their epics and fictions. These being currently reported, when they were once written down and read,
would obtain a sort of credit and footing in the faith of the
world. People are so eager to know something of other
times and of distant countries, that if anything passes current as a story it is soon accepted as a fact.
This is the first stage of historical writing-the period of
simple and nagf narration, largely intermixed with what is
purely imaginative and fictitious.  It confines itself to recording such facts as strike the imagination and interest
the feelings, especially of admiration and reverence; following the method of simple narration, with large credulity,
few critical attempts to distinguish between truth and
falsehood, and absolutely no philosophy.  As writers and
readers reach a more sober and less childish age, history
becomes more grave and dignified in its manner, and
events are recorded with a more careful exactness. To the
imagination and feelings far less freedom is allowed.
Facts and dates are copied with care from monuments and




128              Books and Reading.            [CHAP. XI.
records. But history is still very credulous and undiscriminating; its writers set down without sifting the most
of what they find recorded or hear reported without weighing authorities or adjusting conflicting testimonies. It is to
be noticed also, that only the so-called great personages and
great events, are deemed worthy to be recorded. Great battles, decisive victories, the deeds of heroes, the lives of kings
and princes, of nobles and statesmen; the events which
make one people the conqueror and another the subject;
these stand conspicuously forth from the ordinary level of
human affairs and are alone thought deserving of preservation. The fortunes of the common people, the condition
of those who do not belong to the court or the aristocratic
classes, the ways in which they lived, tilled the soil, built
houses, sat at their tables, slept in their beds, navigated
rivers and the sea or traveled by land, their customs and
rites, their manners and feelings, their thoughts and their
faiths, these are overlooked as beneath the so-called dignity
of history. The great events judged worthy of notice are set
forth in an exaggerated style, such as impresses the imagination and excites the wonder of the commonalty.
Partly from the natural operation of reverence and the
nobler sentiments of respect, and partly from the exalted
imagination of the narrator, the great men of the past are set
forth in gigantic outline and intensified coloring as something
superhuman. All men were giants in the ancestral days, as
the writer describes and as the reader conceives them.
Many of the classic historians write in this vein, as Livy
and Plutarch; and almost all of the modern writers of ancient
history, till a comparatively recent period, have imitated
very closely their style and spirit.  As we read Plutarch's
Lives, or Rollin's Ancient History, we seem to be lifted
above the actual solid earth of every day life, and to fly
or float in a sort of cloud or enchanted land. Lofty forms
stalk before us, stately and long-robed personages, alway




CHAP. XI.]   History and Historical Reading.    129
in attitudes of superhuman dignity or grace, never speaking except as they utter short orations or weighty apothegms, enacting no deeds except deeds of staid and aweinspiring solemnity. The events- with which we are confronted are all more weighty and significant than those to
which we are accustomed in our daily, or even in our
modern life. They cannot be compared with these. To
conceive of them or to measure them by the common men
and the common things of our-time and of modern days,
would be to degrade the events and to dishonor ourselves.
The whole impression is solemn, stage-like and magnificently imposing, as when a familiar scene is viewed by the
weird moonlight-half elevating, half bewildering, but
always impressive and disposing to admiration and reverence. We may say, indeed, of the impression received by
the readers of the great men of antiquity as described by
Plutarch, that it is not unlike that made by the statuary
in the Vatican, or at the Louvre, as exhibited by torchlight, when the effect of every object is exalted and made
mysterious by the unnatural lights and shadows that play
upon them, and the witchery of the scene is heightened by
the back-ground of impenetrable darkness beyond. Many
of the histories of the ancients by the moderns, were in a
c.rtain sense little more than transcripts from such ancient
originals. The early legends were all faithfully copied by
most of these historians, some of them being recognized as
exaggerations or myths with a slender basis of fact, and
others as being of uncertain import; but no serious, certainly no successful attempt was made to discover what
was true or certain. MIany of the extravagant stories and
improbable events were set down as true, and all the judgments of both men and events were in the highest degree
credulous and timid. The surprising deeds of the heroic
ages and the superhuman virtues of the ancient republics
-the simplicity, fidelity and patriotism reported-were all
9




130             Books and Reading.           ICHAP. XL
confided in, and it was scarcely even suspected that any of
the traditions of the ancients themselves might require a
careful scrutiny and a critical revision.
The modern histories of modern events have been too
often written in the same exaggerated and undiscriminating
manner. The common stock histories of England and the
United States are almost universally in this vein, beginning with the well known older histories and coming down
to the declamatory laudations of Bancroft, and the curt and
biting sentences of Hildreth.
The names of Hildreth and Bancroft as well as those of
Mitford and Gibbon, Hume and Burnet, Lingard and
Neal, suggest the remark that history in all its forms,
whether ancient or modern, is liable to be written in a
partisan spirit. The ancient writers have long been recognized even to the uncritical and trusting eyes of their
admirers, as not altogether unbiassed in their sympathies
and antipathies. Even honest old JBamer tells the largest
and the most favorable stories of his favorite Greeks and
makes the gods sympathize a little unfairly with Achilles,
while the gossiping Herodotus uniformly flatters his favorite nations. As we come down into the region of history
that is more sober and accurate, we find that almost every'author writes in the interest of some political party, some
social caste, or some favorite hero. Even those grave and
judicial old narrators, who look and write in such a solemn
and stately way, are not always so disinterested as they
seem, but contrive to set off their impressions concerning
men and things to the advantage or disadvantage of those
whom they like or dislike. They do not write in the manner of special pleaders or retained advocates so obviously as
some of the moderns, for it was inconsistent with the
dignity of ancient manners to do so; but it is almost as
easy to be solemnly one-sided and unfair with the air of a
judge, as to be violently partisan with the gesticulations




CHaP. XI.]   ITistory and Historieal Reading.     131
of an attorney.  Modern History is too extensively and
notoriously partisan, to require any special comment.
Especially has the history of England, which is that with
which we have the nearest concern, been written in the interest and by advocates of almost every shade of political
opinion and religious belief. There have also been special
histories of almost every party and sect, written with more
or less of partisan partiality.
History, as we have reviewed it, has had two distinct
stages of development: First, the narrative, which is
abundantly imaginative and largely credulous; next, that
of ihe sober and accurate narrator, but only of such facts as
are stately and dignified, with a more or less indiscriminate admiration of what is recognized as superhumanly
great and good; which in turn has readily and almost uniformly degenerated into a blind or willful partisanship.
Within the last fifty years, there has been a decided
reaction from these excessive and mischievous tendencies.
This reaction has led to a new method of writing history;
which involves new methods of studying and reading it.
History both ancient and modern has been written in what
is properly called the critical spirit.  This has wellnigh involved a revolution in the scrutiny of historical
documents, and in the judgment of historical facts, as well
as.in the spirit and aims in which history is written and
read. Under its influence it has become almost necessary
that all history, both ancient and modern, should be rewritten. Many of the old standard histories and historical series have been discarded and displaced. Long series
of uncritical narratives like "The Ancient and the Modern
Universal History," of some fifty volumes, have become
almost so much rubbish. History also is read as it were
with new eyes. This reaction, and the application of the
critical method, took a distinct and recognized form under
the shaping genius of Niebuhr, though eminent critics and




132             Books and Reading.          [Cuar. XI.
scholars had prepared the way by the method and spirit
in which they had studied antiquity before his time. It
was reserved  for Niebuhr, however, to accomplish  a
revolution in the prevailing ideas in respect to the early
history of Rome, and in so doing to establish and vindicate a new method for the treatment of all History. He
not only suggested but vindicated the position that a large
portion of what is recorded by Livy as historical truth is
little better than a series of mythical and exaggerated
legends with a slender basis of fact. Much of the history
of the seven kings went the same way with the story of
the miraculous she-wolf who suckled Romulus and Remus,
the reputed founders of the Eternal City. The subsequent, and, till then, the universally accepted narratives
of the gravest and the most trustworthy historians, were
also revised with rigid care; being carefully tested by
close comparison with one another, with the allusions of
contemporaneous literature, with permanent monuments,
with well known and newly discovered or newly interpreted inscriptions, and last not least, with the testimony of
languages and dialects; which, strange as it may seem,
serve as the means of correcting many errors and confirming many conjectures. Other writers, following the example of Niebuhr and catching his spirit, have traversed
the same and other fields of ancient history. Of histories
well known to English readers, Arnold's History of
Rome, and Grote's History of Greece, are eminent examples of the superiority of the new over the old method.
As the result of Niebuhr's example and influence, not only
have the fabulous and legendary elements been eliminated
from the histories of the older nations, but the overstrained
and exaggerated conceptions of the men and events which
had come to us from the ancient Plutarch and the modern
Rollin, have been toned down to the modesty of a probable and rational judgment. The tendency to see heroes in




CHAP. XI.]    History and Histdrical Reading.    133
both virtue and vice beyond the possible attainments of
human nature, which had free indulgence, has given way
to a juster estimate of what was possible and is therefore
credible.
The old times, which were ignorantly admired and extravagantly lauded, have been carefully measured by what
we know of the workings of the human nature of to-day.
The institutions, the principles, the passions, the aims and
the achievements, of such men as Pericles and Alcibiades,
of Cicero and Seneca, of Catiline and the Cesars, have been
examined, not under the colored lights of blind admiration,
nor by the weird lights of myth-making credulity, nor the
false lights of blind or lying partisanship, but by the dry
and white light, which is reflected from the aims, principles
and passions of men in similar circumstances in modern
times-the good men not being over good for human nature,
and the bad not so much, and so desperately, worse than
the very bad of later times. In short, the historian has
learned to measure the ancient world by the modern world,
instead of by an extravagant and distorted creation of his
own bewildered admiration and his excit6d fancy; because
the modern is known to be the actual world, and as such
illustrates those permanent laws and forces of humanity, by
which alone all history, whether old or recent, can be
rationally estimated and judged. But while this critical
tendency has dissipated what is false and extravagant in the
pictures and conceptions of ancient life, it has established
more firmly and set in bolder relief whatever is true, though
it be peculiar and even supernatural. While it has explained the myths and legends of superstition and credulity
in the false religions that cloud the morning of the historic
period, it has justified and confirmed the miracles that are
so appropriate to simpler times, which have so fitly signalized the presence of One who is higher than nature, and
introduced those manifestations of his moral character and




134             Books and Reading.          [cOaP. XI.
his loving care which have been required in the world's
moral history. The same criticism which has proved so
destructive to the myths of Grecian and the legends of
Roman story, has proved itself most positive and tonstructive when applied to the miraculous and supernatural
which are alone adequate to explain the rise and development of the Mosaic and Christian economies. This has
been the actual result of the most careful and critical investigation of the two by some of the most eminent students
of the new historical school. Niebuhr himself, after some
sharp experiences of misgiving lest the miraculous in the
Old and New Testaments should, under the 1ritical method,
go the same way with the mythological in the Roman and
Greek History, writes thus concerning the education of his
son: "While I shall repeat and read the old poets to him
in such a way that he will undoubtedly take the gods and
heroes for historical beings, I shall tell him at the same
time that the ancients had only an imperfect knowledge of
the true God, and that these gods were overthrown when
Christ came into the world. He shall believe in the letter
of the Old and N5ew Testaments, and I shall nurture in
him, from his infancy, a firm faith in all that I have lost
or feel uncertain about." His biographer records further,
that "The Word nmade Flesh —the Divine brought into
visible contact with the Human, and finding an historical
embodinent in an individual -was a doctrine that found a
warm response in a mind so full of earnest aspiration towards heaven, and at the same time so thoroughly historical in its views of the world. His personal reverence for
Christ was a sentiment that deepened with the progress of
hlis life... He once exclaimed, in the course of an
argument with the present [former] King of Prussia,'I
would lay my head on the block for the divinity of Jesus! "'
Life and Letters, etc. Arnold observes: "The miracles of
the Gospel and those of later history, do not stand upon




CHAP. XI.]    History and Historical Reading.    135
the same ground. I do not think that they stand on the
same ground of external evidence; I cannot think that the
unbelieving spirit of the Roman world, in the first centuy,
was equally favorable to the origination and admission of
stories of miracles, with the credulous tendencies of the
middle ages. But the difference goes deeper than this to
all those who can appreciate the other evidences of Christianity, and who, therefore, feel that what we call miracles
were but the natural accompaniments of the Christian
revelation-accompaniments, the absence of which would
have been more wonderful than their presence. This, as
I may almost call it, a priori probability in favor of the
miracles of the Gospel cannot be said to exist in favor of
those of later history."-Lectures on the Study of Modern
History, ii. Again, "Strauss writes about history and
myths, without appearing to have studied the question, but
having heard that some pretended stories are mythical, he
borrows this notion as an engine to help him out of Christianity. But the idea of men writing mythic histories bet. ween the time of Livy and Tacitus, and of St. Paul mistaking such for realities! " —emnoirs, etc.
If we pass to the modern histories of modern times,
which have been written with the true historic spirit, we
find that they have been as truly improved by the new
method as the histories of the ancient world. The tone of
blind admiration and of exaggerated laudation has been
sensibly lowered, the intense and bigoted partisanship has
been exposed and answered by counter-criticism, or has
quietly given way before the more judicial spirit of a cooler
judgment.
One improvement is especially noticeable in modern history, if it be not almost a revolution. This is the fact,
that much less is made of the so-called great events of history now than formerly. As history has learned new notions of its own dignity, it attaches less importance to the




136              Books and Reading.            [CHAP. XI.
fortunes of princes, the movements of generals, and the issues of campaigns, and occupies itself far more earnestly
and busily with the condition of the middling and lower
classes, with their progress in civilization, in political freedom, in wise laws, general education, and the security ofproperty, as well as in general thrift, prevailing frugality,
courteous manners, moral principle, and religious faith.
History has become more humane and democratic as it has
become more critical and just.  It looks beneath the surface of events for the springs of action. It searches under
facts for principles. It strives to discover the great laws
of progress and stability in the world's evolution.  It regards moral interests as higher than physical, the faith and
heroism of a people and a period as of greater consequence
than the external and physical events which distinguished
either. Hence it tends to be more ethical, more reverent,
and more religious, while it is also more candid and tolerant.
Two characteristics are'especially worthy of notice in
the tendencies of modern history. It is at once more imaginative and more philosophical.
The new history employs the imagination more liberally
and yet more wisely than did the old. While it does not
yield indiscriminately to its direction so as to be misled by
its vagaries, it avails itself freely of its guidance and aid
that it may more perfectly and vividly reproduce the past.
The historian no longer conceives the past to have been so
utterly unlike the present as to allow him to credit all the
fantastic creations of the mythological and the credulous
school, but rather conceives it to have been so nearly like
the present as to justify him in freely using the present
that he may more vividly picture and reproduce the past as
it was. Hence it is the persistent effort of the modern historian to revive the past by means of every possible appliance of which he can avail himself. He continually




CUAP. xI.]    History and Historical Reading.   137
asks himself, How did men live in the earlier times, what
sort of houses did they build, how did they light and
warm them, at what sort of tables did they eat, and of
what food, and how was this cooked and served, on what
seats did they sit, in what beds did they sleep, how were
they dressed, of what material was their clothing made,
and into what sort of garments was it shaped, how did
they travel and visit, in what fashion did they greet one
another? So minute have been these inquiries, and so successfully have they been answered by the aid of the paintings, and mummies of Egyptian tombs, by bas-reliefs on
Assyrian monuments, by Greek and Roman statues and
inscriptions, as also by the exhumations of Pompeii and
Herculaneum, that it seems now almost possible to build
again a Grecian and Roman house, to provide it with implements and furniture, and to reproduce in detail all the
particulars of ancient life. In the same way the historian
of Old or New England of two hundred years ago, concerns himself with thousands of details, which enable his
reader vividly to imagine how the people actually lived,
what was the daily aspect -and history of a street in London or in Boston, what was the method of spending a day
or a week by a merchant or a farmer, a laborer or a professional man.
What is of far greater consequence, the historian asks
and can answer, How did the men of other times think
and feel in regard to the great and small things which interest the human race in all times? What was the measure
of their knowledge and of their intellectual power? What
were their loves and hatreds toward God and man? He
seeks to place himself within their very souls, so as to
gaze on the visible creation with their eyes, to meet his
fellows with their loves and hatreds, to scan the firmament
with their infinite longings or their shivering terror, to seek
after God with their awe or their longings. In all such




138             Books and Reading.          [CHAP. xr.
efforts of history the imagination must be largely employed; but it is employed in the service and for the ends
of truth. It does not dress up its ideals of past generations with impossible and therefore fantastic perfections,
nor does it make them stalk forth in robes of gorgeous
stateliness, nor does it bring them in fantastic conflicts like
the spectred hosts of departed warriors such as are seen by
a belated shepherd far off in cloud-land above some real
battle-field, but it seeks to conceive these generations as
they actually lived and acted, thought and felt. The
power, when trained and used in the search after historic
truth, becomes what is called The Historic Imagination,
which by long practice becomes so discriminating and so
trustworthy as to be termed The hIistoric Sense. It is not
till the imagination is thus matured that a man is able to
appreciate adequately the literature of other nations and
other times than his own. IIe must first understand the
times in which its speeches and essays, its poems and its
plays, its novels and its sermons were composed, in order
to judge of them by their relations to the men by whom
and fbr whom they were written*. When thus heard and
read they are received as far more real and living, and are
judged with a far more sensitive and just appreciation
than they possibly could be if read or judged apart from
the forces which produced them or the conditions under
which they came into being. What is more important
still, the actions of the men of another age are studied in
the light of the knowledge which they actually attained,
the aims which they proposed, and the motives by which
they were impelled. What would be inexplicable if adone
in our times can be accounted for if allowed in lother'days.
What in our day would be a work of cruelty and revenge
is excused, palliated, or even justified, when traced to the
motives and feelings, which occasioned it. What seems
laughable and grotesque, formal and superstitious, when




CHAP. XI.]    History and Historical Reading.      139
looked at with our eyes, is grave and proper, natural and
rational, when looked at through the eyes of the men of
other times, as we are enabled to do, by the cultured historic sense when this is quickened and guided by the historic imagination.
As the result of this liberal and wise use of the imagination, history has become more true and more just in
its judgments as well as more elevating in its lessons and
influence than formerly. The more vividly and fully we
represent the men and the scenes of other times, the more
entirely shall we do justice to them. The more thoroughly we understand events in their motives and principles,
the more truthfully shall we estimate and weigh them.
The new method educates and elevates the imagination, as
well as employs it as an auxiliary to truth. We read and
study history somewhat as we read and study the drama,
viewing it as a grand spectacle of the past that is vividly
reproduced in scenery, personages, and events; that fixes
our attention, excites our curiosity, and kindles our sympathies. As the actual drama is fitted to ennoble the imagination and purify the passions, so does dramatized history act with even greater energy in these directions, when
it is fitly rendered by.the writer and justly conceived by
the reader. These thoughts lead us to,
The second characteristic.stated, viz., that the New History is more philosophical than the old. It recognizes
more distinctly the truth that all historic events are to be
explained by certain causal influences or agencies, which
are furnished in man's own nature, in the circumstances
of his condition, and in the purposes of the living God.
Different historians differ in the variety of the agencies
which they recognize, in the importance which is to be attached to each, and in the power of harmonizing one with
another; but all agree that to some agencies or principles,
acting after fixed methods or rules, all great historical




140              Books and Reading.         [CHAP. XI.
events are to be ascribed, and that the problem of history
and the duty of the historian is to discover what these
principles are. The historian nowadays is not content to
entertain his readers with striking descriptions of the
startling events which give to history its dramatic interest,
nor to paint to the life the story of those great personages
who illustrate the pathos and power, the tenderness and
energy of human passion, but he seeks also to explain historic phenomena both the greater and the less-by their
principles and laws.
To determine what are the principles and what the laws
which underlie all these events is the aim of what is
technically called The Philosophy of History. Much is
made of this phrase in our times. To many persons it
suggests something very profound, attractive, and incomprehensible. To others it is big with high-sounding verbiage, transcendental pretension, attenuated Pantheism, or
depressing Fatalism. But there ought to be no special
mystery in the phrase. If a philosophy of the universe
of spirit and matter, is possible in its present manifestations, then a philosophy is possible of the past history of
man, from which lessons of instruction may be derived, and
if need be of monition for the future. As there is a
variety of theories of the present, each one of which may
be incompatible with the other, so there may be an equal
variety of philosophies of the past. A Mohammedan, a
Mormon, a Brahmin, and a Christian, would necessarily
have each a peculiar philosophy of history. It need not
be a mystery or a wonder that a materialist and a spiritualist, a necessitarian and a believer in freedom, should each
interpret the history of man after a fashion of his own.
One who studies man as an animal only, and recognizes
no other forces and laws than those which are vital, will
of necessity, like Draper, make physiology the basis of his
Philosophy of History, or rather, he will resolve all his



CHAP. XI.]   History and Hitstorical Reading.    141
torical into physiological phenomena, whether they are
material, vital, or spiritual.  Temperature and moisture,
of a certain degree and quantity, acting on certain chemical combinations of nitrogen, carbon, phosphorus, etc., are
the formulae by which historical phenomena can all be explained. Napoleon and Waterloo, Abraham Lincoln and
Bull Run, General Lee and Appomatox Court-House, are
satisfactorily accounted for by various formulae, of which
the terms are HI, O, C, N, etc., in various combinations.
A writer who recognizes a somewhat wider range of forces,
some of which are spiritual, but all, whether material or
spiritual, obey mechanical laws and act by a necessitating
force, will, like Buckle, evolve and explain all possible occurrences and phenomena according to an it priori necessity, from whose iron embrace there is no release. Those
who, like Froude, believe in the caprices and energy of
human passions and. individual freedom, or who, like
Niebuhr, Arnold, Goldwin Smith, and hosts of other Christian historians, distinctly recognize a Divine Providence
fulfilling merciful plans of human progress and redemption, will have another and a nobler philosophy of history,
because they accept a nobler philosophy of the universe
and of human life.
It ought to be added that to serve more effectually the
philosophical explanation of the Past, the great movements of historic progress in separate lines and the several
agencies on which they depend have been treated of in
distinct works. Thus we have not a few generalized histories, as of Commerce, Geographical Discovery, Emigration, Philosophy, M2orals, Literature, Poetry, Fiction, Criticism, and even of Civilization itself. The treatment of
these topics of historic research separately has this great
advantage, that it limits the attention more effectually to
single classes of phenomena, and to the workings of single
forces. It withdraws the mind from  the more palpable




142             Books and Reading.           [CHAP. xI.
and material effects and causes, to the more refined and
spiritual. It enables each student to look at the history
of man from that point of view which most interests his
own feelings, or bears upon his own studies, and it saves
the general reader an immense amount of special research
and laborious investigation.
But the impatient reader, who may have followed us
thus far, will be likely here to interrupt us with the inquiry; "But what has all this to do with a course of historical reading? These general disquisitions on the writing
of history may have some interest for those who have history to write, but they can have no possible application to
those who have history to read. The progress and development of history, from poetic narration to philosophical interpretation, may be instructive to learned students
but not to general readers." To which wve reply: Have
patience; "History is a vast jungle, an impenetrable morass to  the reader who  undertakes to  find his way
through it without a guide, and even to him who reads
the first book which is recommended to him, and having
finished that seizes upon another. To read history with
any profit or even with much satisfaction whether alone or
under the advice of a sagacious friend, one should know
something of what history is, and how it is written, in
what various forms, with what diversity of honesty, truth,
and trustworthiness." To furnish this information, preliminary to special advice respecting the selection of books
and the manner of reading them, has been the aim of this
chapter.




CHAPTER XII.
HOW TO READ HISTORY.
IT is not easy to prescribe a course of Historical Reading for a single individual, even though he is an intimate
friend, whose character and culture, whose aims and habits, whose leisure and opportunities are all supposed to be
familiarly known to his adviser. It is more difficult to do
it for many persons, every one of whom may differ from
the other in every one of these particulars. An extended
or general course which might be equally suitable for all
readers, is idle to think of. To attempt even a selection
of the best authors, without knowing somewhat intimately
the person for whom they are chosen, would be foolish and
futile. All that we propose to do is to lay down a few
principles which will enable a reader to begin wisely and
to proceed with satisfaction in selecting books for himself;
and also to illustrate these principles by referring to a few
authors of marked peculiarities and of unquestioned excellence.
We observe, first of all, that a thorough mastery of the
field of history must be the work of many years; in some
sort, of a lifetime. To fix in the mind the dates of the
most important events, to impress the events themselves
upon the memory so that they shall be permanent and
familiar, to settle the great questions which are in dispute
in respect to facts and principles, to be able to summoh at
call the great pictures which make up the diorama of the
world's past, can be achieved only by the few students to
whom historical research is the exclusive occupation of
143




144             Books and Reading.          [CHAP. XIt.
their life. For such we do not write. They would not
need our assistance, could we give it; for it is the prerogative of every such student to find his path opening naturally and easily before him as he proceeds. To such the
author immediately in hand introduces many others whom
he will wish to read. The subject which at present occupies
the attention inevitably suggests numerous kindred topics.
In part this is true for the class of persons for whom we
write-who are supposed to be comparatively ignorant of
booKs and unpractised in reading. Even such readers
ought not to expect to finish in a year or two the brief
and imperfect course of history which they may immediately
require. We grant, one may learn a compend of events
or a table of dates within a few months. He may commit
to memory an outline history of Greece and Rome, of
Europe in the middle ages, of Great Britain and the
United States. But to do this is simply to lay the foundation and to erect the scaffolding. To master the history
of these countries, so as intelligently to enjoy it and be instructed by it, requires a far longer period, and must be, at
the shortest, the work of several years of earnest and awakened attention. Moreover, it would not be desirable, were
it practicable, to finish such a course of reading more
speedily. To read history should be proposed by every
thoughtful person as the learning and pastime of his entire
life; as capable of perpetually opening new views of regions unseen before, and of bringing before the same eye
fresh aspects of scenes that are none the less interesting because they have been often revisited. Indeed, there is an
important sense in which it is true that a man must wait
till he is somewhat advanced in life before he can read history with full advantage and enjoyment, because such a
person only can bring to it the observation and interest furnished by actual experience. If "old experience" alone, as
Milton suggests, can attain "to something like prophetic




CHAP. XIr.]      How to read History.              145
strain " in its forecast of the future, it is almost equally
necessary that one may intelligently appreciate the history
of the past. History to the eye of the young has the interest of an exciting spectacle; to the old it is as inspiring
as the counsel of a life-long friend.  The youth gazes with
excited and breathless curiosity upon the shifting panorama of great empires rising mysteriously like overhanging
clouds, of vast cities thronged with representatives from a
hundred nations, of endless caravans of barbaric emigrants;
of the confusion of battle, the pomp of victory, and the
splendor of pageants. All these are to his eye brilliant,
imposing, and exciting.  But when the same eye has seen
more of living men and of actual life, when the man has
interpreted the causes and meditated upon the lessons of
the events which have occurred within his personal experience, then and then only is he prepared to gather instruction from the story of the past, because in the men and the
events which this story records he sees the counterpart of'
what has passed beneath his personal observation. To the
young, history must be an exciting drama or a painful
task; to the old, it is as fresh as a fairy tale, and as instructive as the lessons of a patriarch.
Those persons who are impatient to acquire in a twelvemonth a satisfactory knowledge of history, or who expect
or wish to finish up their reading in order that it may be
done with and laid aside, might almost as well not begin
at all, for by such history can be read only for convenience
or show, and to them it can bring little instruction and less
enjoyment. There are not a few who, having just left
school or college, say to themselves, " A man must know
something of history, in order to pass respectably with intelligent people;  Without having read history, one cannot understand the newspapers, or take part in conversation, or shine in a debating-club, or make speeches; there.
fore I will take a course in history —what is the best, be10




146           Books and Reading.            [CaAP. XI.
cause the shortest and the soonest over?" To such persons
we would say: " Study a table of chronology as you would
take a dose of medicine, or buy the best and briefest compend of universal history which you can hear of, and
master it because you must; but do not call such occupation the reading of history." This sort of reading should,
of all others, be regarded as the constant occupation and
pastime of the life of any one who reads at all; and it is
well to begin history as it is to begin our reading life,
with this view of it-to form our plans, and to select our
authors with these expectations distinctly in mind.
There is the greater need of cautions of this sort, for the
reason that so many persons, under mistaken impressions,
or by the direction of stupid or thoughtless advisers, commence reading a course of history with such authors or
after such a plan as to be very soon disgusted and disappointed. We recall very distinctly a friend who, on finishing his college-life, gave himself up for a year to what he
fondly anticipated would be "the still air of delightful
studies," with glowing expectations of what hve should accomplish and enjoy in a year of general reading. To
master an ample course of history was his first ambition
and his most attractive ideal. He seated himself at his
desk with the expectation of finishing this course in a
twelvemonth, and in order to begin at the beginning, he
opened one of the dreariest and most matter-of-fact books
that ever was written, viz.: The Old and New Testament
Connected, by Humphrey Prideaux.  It was a part of his
plan to follow this work with another, which, if possible,
is more dreary and forbidding, viz.: Shuckford's Sacred
and Profane History Connected. But he never got so far
as Shuckford, for the reason that, after a few weeks' trial
with Prideaux-so many hours a day, and so many pages
of the wooden volumes read in a mechanical way-he became dispirited and discouraged, and the course of histori



CHAP. XI.]      oHow to read Hii.tory.           147
cal reading "never did run smooth" with him, after such
an inauspicious beginning.
Second. This instance may give meaning and interest to
our next suggestion, which is, that history, to be wisely
begun, should be commenced by every person at what is
the right starting-point for him.  We have already insisted that the book on which every man should first lay
his hands is the book which will instruct, amuse, or elevate him most in any direction in which his needs are the
most imperative, whatever the subject-matter may be.
This rule is pre-eminently good in historical reading. If
we assume that the entire field is to any one unoccupied
and unknown, there are yet certain countries, personages
or events-one or all-of which every man has some immediate interest to know something. Whether his interest arises from the curiosity of the inquirer or the usefulness of that which is to be known, is unimportant. At
this very point should he begin. The author who best
meets this impending want, whether he can do this by his
ease of style, clearness of arrangement, copiousness of information or elevation and truthfulness of aim, is the author
with whom he should begin. But suppose a person has
few historic needs, at least few of which he is conscious,
and little or no curiosity, what shall be said to him?
Should there be such a person, we have only to say, that
it may be the time has not come for him —and it may be
it ought never to come-to read history at all. It would
be safer, however, to deny that a person ever existed who
is without any historic curiosity or historic needs, if it
could only be discovered in what direction they lie. With
some these wishes and wants may turn upon that which is
nearest their senses,-the local history of the town or
county in which they live, of the family to which they
belong, or the state or country in which they are born; or
perhaps their imagination may be excited to ask questions




148             Books and Reading.        [CHAP.xrr.
concerning some prominent personage whom  they have
seen or of whom they have heard, as some great lawyer,
physician, clergyman, banker, merchant, sea-captain, or
general. If they are interested in any trade or employinent, the history of their own occupation, or of the objects
with which it is concerned, may be the history which will
take the strongest hold of their feelings.
When, then, a man: comes to us with the question,
"What history shall I read first?" we reply, as we have
already suggested, with the questions: "What history do
you care to know the most about? Of what country, or of
what people-of what events or what personages do you
wish or need to be informed accurately and fully? Concerning what great interest, as of trade or commerce, tariff
or business, of shipbuilding, or invention in art or literature, do you at present feel disposed to ask the most numerous questions of a friend or acquaintance?" If you can
answer to yourself these questions, then you will be able
to decide what history you should begin to read.
Third. History should be read after the laws and habits
of the kind of memory with which the reader is naturally
endowed, without any violent efforts to resist or reform
these laws or habits. For example, there are a few persons who have a natural memory for dates. They can
scan with the eye or hear with the ear the dates of the
principal events of a war, a reign, or a century, and can fix
them with exactness so as to recall them when they are
wanted. But the majority, even of young persons-in
whom the spontaneous memory is most active-find it
somewhat difficult to imprint a table of simple dates upon
the memory. Those who labor under this defect are soon
discouraged in the reading of history. They complain
that before they have finished a single volume most of the
dates of the events which it records have escaped from
their possession. Of what possible use, say they, can it be




CHAP. XII.]     fow to read History.             149
to read the next, if even the times and the order of the
great events which it recounts are in like manner to slide
from our recollection? Of what use, if this is continually
to happen, will it be for us to read history at all? To relieve the minds of those who feel these difficulties, two
considerations are pertinent. The first is, that history may
inscribe many most valuable lessons upon the memory of
those who can remember the dates of but few of the great
events which it records. It is with reading history very
mnuch as it is with seeing people and observing the course
of nature. A thousand lessons may have been impressed
upon the understanding, a thousand most important relations may have been discerned, a thousand inferences or
principles may have been suggested or confirmed, a thousand movements of feeling or will may have been evolved
in connection with a thousand persons and events observed,
of which very few, and perhaps none at all, can be recalled
singly and in their individual relations. To be profited
by history in almost every way conceivable, it is by no
means essential that we retain a distinct remembrance of
the individual facts which history records and recites.
We would not intimate that a knowledge of dates and
events is unimportant, nor again that strenuous and persevering efforts should not be made to fix and hold them.
We would only preclude the inference that great exactness
or facility in this respect is essential to the most important uses of this study. We would also insist that any
range, exactness, or readiness in the memory of historical
facts is only important so far as it is attended with the capacity to discern and connect these facts by means of their
higher relations. Simple memory is so very convenient
that it is often greatly over-valued. School-teachers and
school-children, pedants and paragons of memory, who
can promptly tell you the precise date of every event in
history, plume themselves very often upon what is merely




150             Books and Reading.          [CHAP. XII.
a great intellectual convenience. Those unfortunates, on
the other hahd, who are always at a loss when called on to
furnish such details for themselves or others, are often
mortified and discouraged at their constantly recurring
failures. For this reason it needs often to be repeated that
a knowledge of dates is chiefly to be valued because of the
higher relations to which it constantly ministers. This
suggests the second consideration to which we referred,
viz: That when the dates of history are habitually contemplated in these higher relations, the study of chronology
becomes fascinating and easy to many who are deficient in
the mechanical memory. It may seem of little importance to know, and therefore, it may appear difficult to recall, the precise number of months or years by which the
American preceded the French Revolution, or to recount
the exact order of the several events which ushered in the
bloody catastrophe, and the inevitable reaction of the Directory, the Consulate, and the Empire. But viewed in
another light the exactest knowledge of these time-periods
and time-epochs may be of the greatest service. It may
even be absolutely essential to enable the reader to estimate
the force and to compute the laws of the agencies which
produced these stirring and frightful phenomena. At first
view, that would seem to be the most trivial coincidence
which connects two events together by the relation of time
-as a discovery, an invention, a bold and beneficent enterprise achieved by two or three minds in the same month
thousands of miles distant. But coincidences of this sort
observed and remembered, illustrate how the thinking of
the race proceeds with an even step, and may bring out the
exact occasion or condition which has evolved in many
minds a similar intellectual or moral result. The exact
date of the first emigration of miners to San Francisco, or
of the first large shipment of gold from California to New
York or London, might be of the first importance to illus



CaxP. xsI.]     How to read History.             151
trate the beginning of some new movement of commerce,
or a new tendency in the money markets of the world.
The exact date, to the day of the month, of the proclamation of the Queen of England concerning the belligerency
of the parties in our late civil war, is esteemed by many as
of the greatest significance in determining what were the
feelings and what the position of the English Government
with respect to the two parties.
We have cited these examples to illustrate the truths,
that to any person who reads history with a moderate degree of intelligence and reflection, the chronology of history may be invested with a high intellectual, and even a
high moral interest, and that those who study dates and
time relations under these higher lights can by degrees
learn to remember them. This is but a special inference
and application of the general rule already laid down, that
every man should read history after the methods and connections of his own memory. If a reader has little force
of that spontaneous power which reproduces dates and
facts by a mechanical method, let him learn to elevate
these dates and facts by the dignity and interest which
belong to higher relations and deeper principles. If, on
the other hand, he remembers isolated facts and incidents
with ease, let him not be content with the convenient service or the doubtful reputation of an intellectual instrument that passively depicts everything that has been presented to the mind.
It is interesting to notice how the driest of all books, —a
table of dates, may to the enlightened eye become radiant
with instruction and interest; and especially how a table
of comparative chronology, like the Oxford Tables, or
those prepared primarily for the study of Church History
by Dr. Henry B. Smith, and many others may become a
most attractive manual.
Against passive reading of every kind we would enter




152             Books and Reading.          [CHAP. xrI.
our repeated protest as an idling of time and an enfeebling
of the powers. History tempts not a few to such habits.
Many read history as they read a novel or a drama, moved
only by the excitement of the story, permitting scarcely reflection enough to assent to the story as a recital of actual
events,-dreaming over its pictures rather than believing its realities; neither measuring its facts by principles,
nor deriving principles from its facts. Others, of an opposite habit of mind, bestow so much reflection upon the
facts, that they often forget the facts which have suggested
their reflections. They read history very much as an absent-minded man listens to a concert or an opera, or as
under a lecture or a sermon he surrenders himself so completely to the thoughts which the speaker suggests, that he
forgets very much of what the speaker has said. Such
persons bring away everything which history can teach
them except its facts, viz., the truth and reflections which it
suggests. A little faithful and persevering self-discipline
would enable such persons to remember both the incidents
and the dates, which their own reflections should make permanent by ennobling them. These thoughts inculcate a consideration, which it will not be wise to forget or overlook,
and that is, that the reading of history must be prosecuted
somewhat as a study, in order to be permanently pleasant
or profitable. History need not be learned as a lesson to
be repeated to another, but the reading of it should be prosecuted with a special wakefulness of attention, with constant and deliberate reflection, and with frequent and wisely arranged reviews. Particularly should history be read
with some sort of system at the outset, it being always remembered that it should never be regarded as an enforced
task-work.
While, then, we should begin to read history by using
the kind of memory which we have at command, we
should not despair of cultivating our memory by the very




CHAP. xII.]     How to read History.               153
act and effort of reading. Surprising achievements have
been accomplished by trifling acts of painstaking, when
these have been reduced to fixed and pleasant habits.
Fourth. History should always be read with the aid of
Geography.  If the dates of the events of History are important and instructive, so-are the places in which they
occur. Indeed we may say without reserve, that it is impossible to read history with intelligence, without bringing
distinctly before the eye of the mind the place-relations of
the scenes in which,these events occur. Nor does it suffice that one should be able to fix these as presented by a
map, if one cannot interpret the lines of the map into pictures of boundary and surface. Not only should the ordinary map and atlas be kept constantly within reach, but
what are called historical maps should be freely and constantly employed by every reader of history who can procure them. These are constructed for the special purpose
of representing to the eye the various changes and divisions
of a country which have occurred in great historic periods,
as the result of conquest or colonization. These changes
are represented to the eye by a series of maps of the whole
or a part of a continent drawn to the same scale and with
the same completeness of physical features; the growth,
diminution, or absorption of its subordinate divisions being
indicated by changes in their variously colored boundary
lines, and by the presence or absence of its marts, fortresses
and capitols. The several changes in Western Europe
which took place after the French Revolution and during
the career of Napoleon, are most impressively depicted to
the eye by a series of such maps, each one of which tells
its own story of rapid conquest and humiliating defeat, of
sudden and surprising growth, and of contractions and
retreats as unlooked for. The decisions of the Congress of
Tienna made it necessary to reconstruct the map of Europe. No sooner had Prussia achieved the one victory of




15-4             BooLks and Reading.         [CHAP. XII.
Sadowa after a seven weeks' campaign, than the maps of
Germany were all altered, and new  maps of the new
Prussia were sold in Berlin before her troops had returned
in trl-imph to the capital.  A series of good historical
maps of the Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire suggests
volumes of Ancient History.  The moral and political lessons which a few moments' inspection of a series of such
maps is fitted to enforce, cannot fail to be noticed by any
thoughtful mind. The career of the great ANapoleon is
full of admonitory wisdom as it is illustrated to the eye
that follows his unbounded ambitions and his astounding
achievements,-in the expanding and still expanding lines
of the Empire which centred in Paris,-to that crisis, which
contracted them in a day by the victory of Waterloo, and
sent him to the distant rock of St. Helena. Historical
maps of the great empires of the ancient world are like the
successive pictures of a prophet's vision. Historical atlasses have hitherto been almost inaccessible to ordinary
English readers, and have been scarcely known except by
historical scholars. With a few exceptions, they have been.
prepared by German editors, and are not easily used by a
person who is ignorant of the German language. The
simple inspection of one of the atlasses of Carl von Sjpruner
cannot fail to impress even such a reader with the great
utility of such maps as an aid to the reading of history. It
cannot be long before appliances so useful and almost indispensable will be freely furnished to English and American readers.
We name another use of Geography in the reading of
history, which is of far higher interest and of nobler application-its use in the Philosophy of History.  As the
dates of events are often of the greatest significance in explaining them, so also is their scene and place. Tile
physical features of every country-as its mountains,
coasts, and rivers-should be carefully studied, not merely




CHAP. XII.]    How to read thistory.             155
as they have furnished the show-place upon which, and the
limits or framing within which, the great transactions have
occurred that have made the country famous, but as they
have had a large influence in determining what the history
of the country should be. As the material has not a little
to do in determilling what the spiritual and moral shall be
in the development and career of the individual man, so
the study of the physical geography of a country is the best
interpreter of its history. It often furnishes the only clue
by which the student and the reader can explain its most
striking peculiarities. For example, if we would understand the peculiar and wonderful history of England, it is
not merely convenient, and in many senses necessary, to
know that the island is moored alongside the Continent,
at a convenient and yet a safe distance from France, Spain,
Holland and Germany; but it is entirely essential to keep
this fact continually in mind, and to refer to it again and
again, as the one condition which England required for the
development of her unique and marvellous history, and
for the attainment of her boasted imperial power. Had
the English channel been only a little less formidable
than it is in its rock-lined walls, its storms, its fogs, and
its tides, England, might in a half-score of instances, have
been possessed and overrun by foreign invaders after she
had become great enough to tempt as a prize, or defiant
enough to invite as a conquest. Dutch Fleets, Spanish
Armadas and French Expeditions, in conjunction with
Irish Rebellions, Scotch Risings and Romish Intrigues,
would, but for this single physical feature of England,
have figured very differently in the changed history of the
kingdom, and in the story of Protestant Christianity and
of general political liberty. Indeed, had the English
channel been a little narrower and its currents a little less
fearful, Protestantism and freedom might neither of them
have had a permanent foothold on the earth-assuredly




1356            Books and Reading          [CHAP. XII.
not upon English soil. The free spirit of the English
people would have wanted the insular protection within
which to find its free development, that gave it a home
and a fortress as against foreign assailants, and a convenient city of refuge for many a noble exile. The seafaring
tastes and the adventurous spirit of the English navigators
and traders owe to this circumstance their early and marvellous growth-from which originated the naval supremacy, the colonial extension, and the enormous wealth
of this sometimes unscrupulous and always imperious people, which so long rejoiced in the exclusive tit'le to the
dominion of the seas. But the high tides and stormy
passages along the coasts of this island would themselves
have accomplished little for England's power and wealth
had it not been for the coal and tin and iron which were
also provided beneath her rocks, as the means of developing her manufacturing skill, and of fabricating the metallic
and textile products with which for so- long a period she
has tempted and controlled the markets of the world.
Here, again, the proximity of England to the Continent,
with her insular independence of it, were most important,
as they enabled her government in repeated instances to
introduce skilled labor from Flanders and from France,
on critical occasions, when it was not only convenient for
manufacturers and artisans to leave their homes, but when
this became necessary if they would save their consciences
and their lives. Thus did England, by its physical features, become not only an asylum for many of the noblest
exiles, but she also made of this asylum a treasure-house
for her future wealth and a work-shop for the supply of
the world, which in this way became her tributary.
The example of England is one of many which might
ble adduced to illustrate the relation of physical geography
to history. The honor of discerning and setting forth this
relation in its adequate and manifold importance belongs




CHAP. XII.]     Ilow to read History.              157
to Professor Carl Bitter, one of the most eminent men of
the present century, who was alike distinguished for his
vast learning, his historical sagacity, and his modest and
Christian humility. His views were given to English
readers some years ago by one of his most eminent disciples, Professor Arnold Guyot, in " The Earth and Man,"
and more recently in translations from a few of his works.
The intelligent reader, however, needs only to seize upon
the clue which Ritter's speculative wisdom has furnished, to
be able to read history by a new light and with a new interest, as he finds the physical features as well as the geographical situation of every country to be essential to the
understanding of its political and moral growth, and of
the part which it has enacted in the world's drama.
The thought is kindred, but not unimportant, that to
understand and appreciate either history or geography with
the highest profit, and especially to understand the two as
mutually related, traveling with an intelligent eye is an
important auxiliary.  We would not be understood to assert or intimate that a person who cannot travel cannot do
justice to the reading of history. The fact is notorious,
that some of the most intelligent and appreciative students
of history have traveled but little; while hundreds, if not
thousands, yearly look upon Rome and Jerusalem and the
Nile with unanointed eyes, who neither bring to these exciting places nor carry away from them a single historic
association.
NoG', again, is it needful to travel long distances, or to
visit many of the seats of ancient or modern commerce and
empire, in order to learn the most important and the most
substantial lessons which travel is fitted to impart. A
journey of a hundred miles can be turned by one person
to uses that are far more abundant and instructive than a
journey of a thousand miles by another. The sagacious
eye needs but few hints or motives to be able to judge of




158              Books and Reading.        [CHAP. XII.
the remote by the near, of the long by the' short, and of
the great by the small. Gibbon found in the study of
tactics which he made as captain of the Hants militia a
sufficient preparation to enable him to understand the
movements of the great military leaders of the Roman empire. " The discipline and evolutions of a modern battalion," he says, "gave me a clearer notion of the phalanx
and the legion; and the captain of the Hampshire grenadiers (the reader may smile) has not been useless to the
historian of the Roman empire."  On the other hand, no
intellect can be so acute, and no imagination can be so active, as not to be stimulated and instructed by the excitements of the eye and the ear.  The traveler who has
crossed the Alps in person and on foot will be far more
likely to do justice to the difficulties which impeded Hannibal; and he who has traversed Palestine with the Scriptures in his hand cannot but make mnore- eal to himself
and more intelligible the Old and the New Testament
history. It is worth noticing that the best historical writers have almost uniformly been fond of'traveling. At
least, they have had "the topographical eye," and that interest in natural scenery which seems to be essential to the
vivid representation to the mind of historic scenes, events,
and personages.
This suggests our fifth point, viz., the use of the imagination in the reading of history. Whately pertinently
observes, in his annotations upon Lord Bacon's Essay on
Studies: "In reference to the study of history, I have
elsewhere remarked upon the importance, among the intellectual qualifications for such a study, of a vivid imagination-a faculty which, consequently, a skilful narrator
must himself possess, and to which he must be able to
furnish excitement in  others. Some may, perhaps, be
startled at this remark who have been accustomed to consider imagination as having no other office than to feign




CHAP. XII.]       How to read History.             159
and to falsify. Every faculty is liable to abuse and misdirection, and -imagination among *the rest; but it is a
mistake to suppose that it necessarily tends to pervert the
truth of history, aid to mislead the judgment. On the
contrary, our view of any transaction, especially one that
is remote in time and place, will necessarily be imperfect,
generally incorrect, unless it embrace something more than
the bare outline of the occurrences; unless we have before
the mind a lively idea of the scenes in which the events
took place, the habits of thought and of feeling of the actors, and all the circumstances connected with the transaction; unless, in short, we can in a considerable degree
transport ourselves out of our own age, and country, and
persons, and imagine ourselves the agents or spectators.
It is from consideration of all these circumstances that we
are enabled to form a right judgment as to the facts which
history records, and to derive instruction from it. To say
that the imagination, if not regulated by sound judgment
and sufficient knowledge, may chance to convey to us false
impressions of past events, is only to say that man is fallible. But such false impressions are even much the more
likely to take possession of those whose imagination is feeble or uncultivated.  They are apt to imagine the things,
persons, times, countries, etc., which they read of, as much
less different from what they see around them than is really the case. The practical importance of such an exercise
of imagination to a fll and clear, and consequently profitable, view of the transactions related in history can hardly be over-estimated."
To stimulate and aid the imagination in its efforts to reproduce the past, historical plays and poems, and more
recently historical novels, have been abundantly employed.
Their usefulness has been the subject of frequent discussion
and of various opinions.  It has been forcibly, and perhaps
not untruly said, that the majority of the present generation




160              Books and Reading.          [CHAP. XII.
of English readers have learned more of English history
from Shakspeare and Walter Scott than from the entire
library of professed historians. Of course no man would
contend that either Shakspeare or Scott can be substituted
for the usual historical authorities, but only that they may
supplement them in certain important particulars.  Many
other historical plays and novels are invaluable, as enabling
the reader to enter more fully into the spirit of past times.
They are of especial service in helping him to appreciate
the feelings and motives of prominent personages, and
vividly to reproduce the manners and institutions of another
age. It is not often that an historical writer is endowed
with the painstaking zeal of the antiquarian and the creative
power of the poet. If we cannot have the two gifts in a
single writer, we must seek for them apart, in the historian
and the novelist.
Thackeray's Henry Esmond is an admirable example of
a good historical novel, when carefully and conscientiously
written by a man of rare gifts, and of a rarer honesty. ]No
reader of this tale of the times of Queen Anne could fail to
derive from it such impressions of the state of manners and
of morals in the higher circles, as well as of the political
jealousies and the religious feuds which divided men of all
classes, as no formal history could possibly convey —such
as even the most abundant and painstaking research into
the less accessible sources of historical knowledge would
fail to impart to a man of feeble capacity to picture and recombine. The service is not a slight one which is rendered
to the world, when a painstaking explorer of historic truth
like Thackeray gathers his materials with faithful and
laborious research, and weaves them together into so fascinating and instructive a story. But this tale, marvellous as
it is for its elaborated truthfulness and picturesque effects,
strikingly illustrates the possible dangers and disadvantages
to which the historical novel may be abused. Thackeray




CHAP. XII.1    How to read History.              161
was not without his prejudices in certain directions. These,
with his desire for producing striking effects, are manifest
in the occasional overdrawing of this generally well balanced representation of one of the most interesting periods
of English history. It is notorious that Walter Scott gave
very serious offence to multitudes of his admiring readers;oy some of his portraitures of the representative characters
of the great historical parties of Scotland and England.
With all the good sense and candor which he had at command, his sympathies were too intense and his prejudices
too tenacious to allow him to write otherwise than he
did, though he knew he should excite the indignation of
thousands of his fervid countrymen. Mrs. I. B. Stowe,
says in the preface to her recent historical romance, Oldtown Folks:-" I have tried to make my mIind as still and
passive as a looking-glass or a mountain lake, and thus to
give you merely the images reflected therein." But a fervid and sympathetic nature like hers can no more free itself
fiom a theological or personal bias, in representing the
New England of the past, over which she has laughed, and
wept, and speculated, and struggled all her life, than "the
mountain lake" can hold itself in glassy smoothness against
the gusts and breezes that sweep upon it from the heights
above. Writers less conscientious and trustworthy than
the three we have named would very easily make the historical novel to be the vehicle of partisan prejudice, dishonest misrepresentation, and virulent vituperation. It is also
so easy to exaggerate for the simple purpose of effective representation, that many such novels have been written with
no conscious bias, and yet have been no better than coarse
exaggerations and extravagant caricatures of the simple
truth. Some of the novels of "Airs. Mihlbach"' (Clara
fMundt) are sad and humiliating examples of this sort,
doing equal violence to historic truth, to correct taste, and
to dramatic propriety. Others are written with greater
1




1G2             Books and Reading.          [CHAP. XII.
fidelity to both dramatic and historic truth. The very
wide-spread popularity of these tales illustrates the fitness
of this kind of writing to meet an important craving of'
human nature. The volumes of the Schinberg-Cotta and
the Erckman-Chatrian series will readily occur to many of
our readers as exemplifying the same truth. George Eliot's
Romola is if possible a still more surprising achievement
than any which we have named; as the period was more
remote and the materials more scanty, and the actors and
scenery more strange to a native of England.
The fact deserves notice in this connection that, of late,
professed historians have indulged somewhat freely in romancing, and so in a sense turned their histories into quasihistorical novels; especially when they attempt to give
elaborate and eloquent portraitures of their leading personages, in which the most lavish use is made of effective
epithets and of pointed antitheses..Miacaulay, among the
recent historians, has set the fashion very decidedly in this
direction. In his efforts to make history minute, vivid,
and effective, he has often described like an impassioned
advocate, and painted like a retained attorney, with the
most unsparing expenditure of contrasts and epithets.
Carlyle gives sketches alternately in chalk and charcoal,
that exhibit his saints and demons, now in ghastliest white,
and then in the most appalling blackness. But though he
draws caricatures he draws them with the hand of an artist,
and if his outlines are often bold and grotesque there are
many of which Miichael Angelo would not have been
ashamed.  Froude, by research, eloquence, and audacity
combined, attempts to reverse the settled historic judgments of all mankind in respect to the characters that had
been " damned to everlasting. fuame."  Bancroft and Motley
abound in examples of this tendency to paint historical
characters so much to the life, that the impression is made
that the result is only a painting to which there never was




CHAP. XII.]     How to read hiistory.            163
reality. The ghost of the miserable Philip II. would suffer more than the purgatorial tortures which he dreaded
and deserved so long, were he made to writhe -under the
unsparing pertinacity of Motley's invective, from  which
there is no release, and to which there is no termination:
while the spirit of William the Silent would *be more reserved and reticent than ever were he forced to listen to
the perhaps not undeserved, but the certainly unqualified
laudations of his admiring narrator. The elaborate portraits of Bancroft, if they do nothing more, do most effectively illustrate the historian's own conceptions of what
sets off a man well in description, so intense is the coloring and so abundant are the adornments which he employs. The disposition to use two colors certainly allows
striking contrasts, if it does nothing more. The hero in
black is drawn with deep shadows, if they are few. The
hero in white is as white as is practicable, and allow him
to be distinctly visible. Gradations in color as well as
flowing outlines, if less effective in the excitement with
which they shock and excite the nerves, are more pleasing
to the taste that is truly refined, as well as ordinarily more
true to nature, and just to the reality of things.
To satisfy the imagination history must be individual
and minute. Hence it is that biography supplements history so happily by imparting an individual interest to the
events which concern a larger number of men, by giving
minuteness of detail in place of general and vague descriptions, and by awakening our personal and human sympathies in what would otherwise be conceived as indefinite
and impersonal. The life of a great ruler or a distinguished
commander becomes for these reasons the most satisfactory medium for recounting the history of a great nation
or a critical war. We need only cite as examples the lives
of Frederick, Napoleon, and Abraham Lincoln. A single
human being takes the central place in the picture, and his




164               Books and Reading.         [CuAP. XII.
personal feelings and interests awaken active interest and
sympathy. The recital of the events of which he had personal knowledge stands out in bold relief from the hazy
back-ground of general descriptions and the dry details of
dates, numbers, and results. Hence a snatch from the diary
of a soldier on a march, a brief letter after a battle, a personal narrative of what he saw and felt in a charge or
repulse, is often more attractive and even more instructive
than scores of official summaries and despatches. The few
diaries which were faithfully kept in the stirring times of
England, as those of Evelyn and Pepys, the personal recollections of Mrs. Lucy Hutchinson, and the stately recordings of Burton in his Cromwellian diary, are not only valued above all price for the distinctness with which they
bring again to life those exciting times, but they have given
suggestions for scores of imitations in manifold fictitious autobiographies and diaries. A few series of letters from an
active correspondent to his intimate friend like those of
Horace WValpole, are sometimes of great interest and service. Indeed a bundle of old letters, freshly gathered from
some forgotten chest or dusty closet may aid the imagination and move the heart more than a score of elaborate
volumes. The zealous student of history is moved by the
true historic spirit, to fill his library with books and collections of this sort, and is never weary with ruminating
over the past which he ever anew recreates to the eye
of his mind out of these fragmentary hints, and these tattered, seared, and dusty memorials. An old letter reveals
a new world; an old account-book recalls a past generation,
with its ways of getting and spending, of buying and selling, of marrying and burying, of clothing and furnishing.
We have read a manuscript correspondence of sixty years
from a friend in England to a friend in the United States
that seemed to introduce us to much that was most important of the inner life of England during the interesting




CuAP. XIIr.J       ow to read History.             165
and exciting period which it covered. An old musket or
a soldier's outfit represents a battle-field of another time;
and an old diary unrolls a pictured procession of deaths
and burials, of weddings and funerals, of famines and
pestilences, in which the long dead reappear upon the
earth, inhabit their old houses, and walk the once-frequented streets.  The imagination of many a Dr. Dryasdust is pictured all over with unwritten romances; and
his heart, which seems as desolate and forbidding as his
dusty and disorderly den, is brimming over with the tenderest recollections. Peace to his ashes, for in them slumber the glowing embers of the loved and therefore the unforgotten past!




CHAPTER XIII.
A COURSE OF HISTORICAL READING.
WE proceed next to give an outline of a course of Historical Reading. It will be remembered that we do not propose to furnish a list of books. for the student, but only for
the general reader. We begin with the earliest period, and
follow the order of time.
The best and most readily accessible general history of
the earliest nations is Philip Smith's History of the World,
from the Earliest Records to the Present Time, of which the
history of the nations of antiquity is complete, and comprises three volumes. This History has the very great
advantage of using the results of the latest researches and
explorations in literary and monumental remains, and is
written and compiled with a distinct recognition of the
critical method which we have already noticed. It suffers,
as was unavoidable, under the disadvantage of being a
compilation. It is of necessity not written with the enthusiasm and earnestness which those writers only attain who
have limited their investigations to a single country or a
single period, and are not constrained by the necessity of
condensation. It is especially serviceable as an introduction
to more special and particular histories. This work cannot
be recommended too earnestly as compared with Rollin,
Prideaux, Shuckford, and numerous writers like them,
whose usefulness and authority have been superseded, and
whose occupation ought by this time to be gone. It is to
be feared that notwithstanding the progress of civilization,
shoals of their works will continue to be multiplied by'the
zeal of interested publishers, and that book-agents will
166




CIAP. XIII.l  A Course of Historical Reading.      167
still sell them as standard histories.  Niebuhr's Lectures
on Ancient History, etc., in three volumes, treat of special
topics with learning and freshness. They are of a general
character, and are in striking contrast with those excessively
minute and learned investigations which were given to the
world in the first volumes of his History of Rome, and
which have occasioned the impression that Niebuhr in all
his writings is unintelligible to those readers who are not
scholars.  C. L. Brace's Races of the Old World is an excellent companion in all historical studies.
A. H. L. Heeren, in his Politics, Intercourse and Trade
of Ancient Asiatic Nations and his Politics, Intercourse and
Trade of the Carthaginians, Ethiopians, and Egyptians, treats
of these special topics with great freshness, and has the great
merit of continually confronting and comparing the past
with the present, making the ancient world to seem a real
world to the modern reader, and its life to be reproduced
as an actual and present reality.  He writes for the historic
imagination as well as for the historic judgment. Rawlinson's History of the Five Great Monarchies of the Ancient
Eastern World is a recent work, which is at once original,
drawn from direct research, critical, and reverent of things
and truths which are sacred. Rawlinson's Herodotus ought
to be named in this connection.  ILe Normant and Chevallier's History of The Oriental Nations of Antiquity, 2 vols.
partially satisfies a long-felt want. A. H. Layard's Discourses on Nineveh and Nineveh and its Remains would
naturally be consulted here.
In the history and antiquities of Egypt, Sir J. G. Wilkinson is the highest authority, and he may be read either
in his larger work, Manners and Custoins of the Ancient
Egyptians, 3 vols. 8vo., or in the more popular and abridged
Popular Accounts of the Ancient Egyptians, 2 vols. 12mo.
Uhlemann's Three Days in f~emphis is as successful an
attempt at reviving the Egyptian world to the imagination
~~VV~-r LCVV  ~ I~~L o y V              ZD.




168             Books and Reading.         [cHAP. XIII.
of the moderns as could be expected. Osburn's Monumental History of Egypt is a work of interest and authority.
Egypt Ancient and Modern, by M. Russell, is a brief compend of Egyptian history. Egypt and the Bookcs of Moses
is an elaborate work, by E. W. Hengstenberg. Egypt Past
and Present, by Dr. J. P. Thompson, is carefully prepared.
Egypt, its Place in the World's History, by Baron Bunsen,
has the characteristic excellencies and defects of its wellknown author.
If we pass from Egypt to Palestine, we have for the
general reader the well-known and the well-written History
of the Jews, by the eloquent and scholarly H. H. Milman.
This work is not as frequently and faithfully read as it deserves to be. It is written with the critical spirit of a
thorough scholar, with the candor of an enlightened Biblical
student, with the imagination of a poet, and the faith of a
believing Christian. Jahn's History of the Hebrew Commonwealth, from the German, is solid and trustworthy, but
heavy in style. Ewald's History of the People of Israel,
from the German, translated in part, is masterly for its
learning and originality, but abundant in capricious and
not always well-sustained suggestions.  M. T. Raphall's
Post Biblical History of the Jews is a faithful and painstaking History by a well-known learned Rabbi. For the
understanding of the Hebrew institutions in their relation
to the Hebrew literature, Herder's Spirit of Hebrew Poetry,
from  the German, is invaluable.  No intelligent and
thoughtful reader can fail to be delighted and instructed
by its eloquent pages. Isaac Taylor On Hebrew Poetry,
and Robert Lowth on the Sacred Poetry of the Hebrews are
both excellent adjuncts. Helon's Pilgrimage, an historical
novel, from the German of F. Strauss, published more recently also under the title of The Glory of the House of
Israel, is a very successful attempt' to reproduce in a tale
the life of the Jewish people in the century preceding the




cnxp. xnII.]  A  Course of Historical Reading.   169
advent of Christ. It was prepared with great care, with
competent learning, and as an aid to the study of the Jewish history and institutions, as well as a successful interpreter of the Jewish faith and worship, is worth a score of
professed and formal commentaries. Its merits are far
superior to many extemporized and superficial imitations
purporting to be reproductions of the times of the Old
Testament and the Jews, that seek to supply what they lack
in historic accuracy, by exaggerated diction, ill-conceived
illustrations, and extravagant portraiture.
No thorough student of Jewish history would be willing
to overlook the works of Josephus, the only, but not always to be trusted authority upon many points. The ordinary reader cannot but find great advantage in reading
portions of these works, if for no other reason than that
they so effectually transport him back into the past, and
enable him to understand and to sympathize with the
spirit of the enlightened political Jews of the times. The
Geography of Palestine has been treated in an exhaustive
and critical way by the eminent Professor Robinson in his
Biblical Researches, and his Geography of Palestine. The
Sinai and Palestine, in connection with their History, by
Arthur P. Stanley, is more popular in its form, and is better adapted to the use of the general reader. The 2lgaps
of Palestine that were edited by Dr. Robinson are very
carefully corrected, and the Map of the Holy Land, by C.
W. M. Van de Velde, is in every respect deserving the
highest confidence.  Raas' Map of Palestine, an imitation
of maps in relief, is at once ornamental and instructive,
and should be in the hands of every student of Biblical
History. The Dictionaries of the Bible and the Encyclopedias of Religious Literature which we shall notice in the
Chapter on Religious Reading are indispensable auxiliaries.
From Palestine to Greece is but a short distance, and
the transition is not unnatural from the Hebraic to the




170               Books and Readling.         [CHAP. XIIi.
Greek history. C. Wordsworth's Greece, Pictorial, Descriptive and Historical, and a History of Greek Art, is an
admirable introduction to the study of the geography, history and literature of that wonderful country. The extended and carefully written History of Greece by George Grote
has superseded almost every. other, and no objection can be
urged against it, except its excessive minuteness and its
length. A good abridgement of it for schools and beginners has been prepared by William  Smith.  W. Mitford's
History of Greece is written with great spirit and with
masterly vigor; but it is excessively partisan in its character, the writer being a desperate enemy to popular institutions of every kind, and finding in the convulsions and
changes of the states of Greece abundant confirmations for
his political sympathies. C. Thirlwall's History of Greece is
carefully written, but it wants the spirit of Mitford, and the
critical research and masterly insight of Grote. E. Curtius'
Jfanual History, from the German, from the reputation of
the author, must be accepted as of high authority. Anacharsis' Travels, by J. J. Barthelemy, from the French, is
an attempt to recall the Greece that was, in a series of imagined travels taken in the  palmy days of the Grecian
States. Pausanias's Greece, an itinerary from a careful
traveler and antiquary of the second century, is invaluable
as a record of places, buildings, and works of art as seen by
Greek eyes and judged by a Greek mind. W. A. Becker's
Charicles is a brief and formal, but for its purposes, an admirable historical novel, the design of which is to reproduce Greek life as it has been re-created and interpreted by
the thorough critical researches of'modern scholarship. It
is fortified and illustrated by abundant notes, which refer
to the classical writers. C. J. Felton's Greece Ancient and
mfodern, is learned and spirited.  Athens, its Rise and
Pall, by Sir Edward Lytton Bulwcr, is eloquently written,
and serves to quicken and aid the historic imagination,




CHAP. XIII.] A  Course of Historical Reacding.     171
while Attica and Athens by C. O. Miiller and others is at
once learned and interesting, and A. Boechh's Public Economy of Athens is full of solid and satisfactory information
in respect to the political organization of the State.
The later history of Greece has been carefully and laboriously written by George Finlay in the following works,
which are above the taste and the wants, as they are beyond the reach of the ordinary reader: Greece under the
Romans, liediceval History of Greece, History of the Byzantine and Greek Empire.
The history of Rome may be said to be well represented
in English literature by Thomas Arnold's History of Rome
and his Later Roman  Commonwealth, and by Charles
iMerivale's Rome under the Enmperors.  These works may
be recommended as of the very highest authority in respect
to research and thoroughness. They are all written in a
clear and fluent style. H. G. Liddell's History is a scholarly manual compiled from the best sources. J. C. Eustace's
Classical Tour through Italy is a useful book of reference.
Theodore Mommsen's Hlistory of Rlome, from the German,
is now accessible to English readers, and cannot be too highly praised for its brilliant generalizations and its success in
comparing ancient with modern events and institutions.
W. A. Becker's Gallus does the same for Roman which
his Charicles does for Greek life. W. Forsyth's Life of
Cicero, though a little stiff and ponderous in its movement,
is valuable to the reader who desires to understand something
of the individual life of one of the most distinguished of Roman writers and statesmen, and who also would learn somewhat of the domestic and social life of the country, as reflected in the personal record of the feelings and the fortunes
of so great a man. This biography, like the most interesting-of modern lives, is in the main drawn from  Cicero's
private letters. The whole correspondence of Cicero with
Atticus is accessible -by translations to English readers.




172             Books and Reading.         [CHAP. XIII.
Plutarch's Lives have been read with enthusiasm by thousands of youths, and have at least imbued their readers
with vivid impressions of ancient thought and feeling.
They are lauded by R. W. Emerson as one of the books
which every man should read and re-read. A. H. Clough's
revised edition is the best.
This suggests the thought that the reader of Greek and
Roman history who is not a proficient in the Greek and
Latin languages,-as well as many who are,-cannot be
said to master the history of these countries unless he
knows something of their literature and of its history.
There are now accessible many good translations of the
works of the leading writers in prose and poetry, as also
good critical and popular histories of these literatures.
The great poems of Homer have been rendered into English with various ability and success, from the quaint and
graphic Chapman down to the Earl of Derby and two or
three after him, of whom our own Bryant is the last,
but not the least successful. The history of Herodotus
has been translated and commented upon by Rawlinson.
W. E. Gladstone's Juventus Mundi is intensely interesting in its reproduction of the Greek life from the representations of Homer. In this connexion we name G. W. Cox's
Manual of Mythology, Tales of the Gods and Heroes, Tales of
Thebes and Argos, C. O. Miiller's Scientific System of ~Mythology. Several of the Dialogues of Plato have been
translated into fluent English with annotations by the eminent philosopher W. Whewell. George Grote has written
an elaborate treatise upon the writings of Plato, in the
form of a careful analysis of each of his Dialogues. Aristotle's Ethics, Rhetoric, and Treatise on Poetry have been
well translated and published in Bohn's Classical Library.
The Tragedies of Sophocles have been translated by E. H.
Plumptre, and some of the Comedies of Aristophanes have
been admirably rendered by J. Hookham Frere. Coning



CHAP. XIII.   A  Course of HiZstorical Reading.   173
ton's Virgil is interesting even to a school-boy. The wellknown translations of the leading Latin writers need not be
enumerated. William Morris's Life and Death of Jason,
imitated from the Greek, is admirably fitted to awaken the
feeling for ancient life and to carry the reader back to the
earlier centuries. Of the histories of Greek and Roman
literature we may name W. Mure's History of the Language
and Literature of Ancient Greece, also C. O. Muller's History of the Literature of Ancient Greece, published by the
Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge, and Dunlop's History of Roman Literature.  William  Smith's
Dictionaries of Ancient Geography, 2 vols.; of Antiquities, I vol., and of Biography and Mythology, 3 vols., are
an encyclopedia of reference upon all points and questions which relate to Greek and Roman history, literature, and biography. Rollin's History of the Arts and
Sciences of the Ancients is a much better book than the
much better known Ancient Universal History.
As we come from ancient to modern times, the introduction of Christianity and the rise and growth of the Christian Church attract our attention. They cannot be left out
of view, for they are entwined with the rise and growth of
all the modern States, and in great part constitute as well
as in greater measure explain our modern history. We
may speak hereafter more at length of books upon these
topics under the title of Religious Reading, but at present
we shall confine ourselves to the notice which they deserve
from the reader of general history. H. Milrnan's History of
GCristianity in the First Three Centuries is perhaps the best
single work of the general character which is required by
such a reader. This work is neither ecclesiastical nor religious. It professes to treat of Christianity chiefly as it
affected the secular, political, and social relations of the
Roman empire and the Roman world. C. Merivale's Conversion of the Roman Empire is a work of the same general




174              Books and Reading.         [CHAP. XIIL.
scope.  Helena's Household, an unpretending story by J.
De Mille recently issued, gives an interesting and faithful
picture of the workings of Christianity in a Roman household, and interweaves also much of the history of a part
of the first and second centuries. Zenobia, Aurelian and
Julian, by the Rev. William  Ware, Salathiel, by Rev.
George Croly, and Valerius, by J. G. Lockhart, are all excellent examples of good historical tales of the earlier
Christian centuries. Neander's General History of the
Christian Religion and of the Christian Church is not unworthy the attention of the general reader, although it is
professedly written from a religious as well as a secular
standpoint. The great work upon this transition-period
which meets and satisfies the wants of the general reader
most completely is the masterly history of Gibbon of the
Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. It still remains
the treasure-house of digested learning and of critical judgment for all other historians. We have already taken exception to the moral spirit in which it was written, and to
the antagonistic attitude which it assumes towards Christianity. While we ought not to insist that every historical
writer should write in a believing or devout spirit, we may
reasonably require that he should treat with respect the
opinions of believers in Christianity, and that he should
not dishonor by contemptuous and indirect depreciation
that religious system which is universally conceded to be
the noblest which the world has ever witnessed. To
counteract the influence of these arguments and insinuations of Gibbon, both Milman and Guizot have edited
special editions of this History, with abundant notes.  The
Student's Gibbon, prepared by W. Smith, in a similar
spirit, is an edition greatly abridged, which is designed for
school and college use, and may serve as a convenient
manual for review and reference. J. Sismondi has also written an excellent brief History of the Decline and Fall




CaAP. XIIL] A  Course of HIsttorical Reading.      175
of the Roman Empire.  Milman's History of Latin Clhristianity is of the highest value, and is universally accepted
as one of our best standard histories.
Gibbon's celebrated history is the connecting bridge by
which we pass from ancient to what we are accustomed
to call Modern History.  A dark chasm intervenes between the two, in which barbarism and disorder struggle
with the tendencies to civilization and order, which during
a long series of centuries are furnished first and almost
exclusively by the Christian Church, itself greatly unenlightened and corrupt. Others sprung from the literature,
art, and free spirit that were introduced and inspired by
the revival of classical study, and both at last struck their
own roots and developed an independent life in what we
call modern Europe. It is not yet given to special students of history to understand this period perfectly, and
the results of what has been satisfactorily established are
not accessible in general histories that are adapted to the
ordinary reader. Koch's Revolutions of Europe is an expanded chronological table, convenient for reference and
instruction to those who have patience to use it. A. F.
Tytler's Modern History was once used in schools and colleges, but has now been generally disused.  W. C. Taylor's
MJianual of Modern Ihistory is to be preferred to this. Russell's well-known and much used History of 3lodern Europe
may perhaps be set aside by the compilation of Philip
Smith. A few manuals translated from the German, as
those of J. Von Miiller, Schlosser, Weber, furnish the
principal facts, with little ior no expansion, illustration, or
philosophy.
Rev. James White's Eighteen Christian Centuries is
written with spirit, and furnishes a very convenient and
interesting general view of the prominent events of modern
history. It is, however, and professes to be, nothing more
than a sketch of these events. A sketch of an entirely




176            Books and Reading.          [CHaP. XIII.
different character is found in Guizot's History of Civilizcttion in Europe. This work treats of the great moving influences and agencies which brought order and light into
the chaos and darkness consequent upon the breaking up
of the ancient civilization. Hallam's State of Europe during the Middle Ages is a work of the highest authority.
Though exceedingly dry and condensed in its matter and
manner, it is indispensable even to a general reader. In
this connection we may properly refer to Hallam's Introduction to the Literature of Europe, as giving the best account which is accessible of the beginnings and progress
of literature from the period of its revival and onward.
Froissart's Chronicles carry us back to the fourteenth century, and give us vivid impressions of the stir and romance of chivalry. Professor G. W. Greene's Lectures on
the Middle Ages is a useful and trustworthy manual.
Leopold Ranke's History of the Popes and History of the
Reformation should also be read as supplementary to the
exclusively secular histories of those times. It is, of
course, written from a Protestant point of view, but is generally accepted as candid and trustworthy. No man can
understand the history of Europe who does not make himself intimately acquainted with the manifold phases andthe powerful agency of the Romish Church, and with tile
relation of the Protestant Reformation to the political action of the Protestant powers.  An historical essay by
James Bryce, On the Holy Roman Ermpire, treats very
ably of the fancied successor to the old Roman dominion, which at times embraced within its supremacy many
of the separate European States, and had the most important influence over the whole field of European history.
D'Aubigne's History of the Reformation, which is decided]y Protestant and positively and earnestly religious, is
drawn from original sources and largely biographical.
The History of the Crusades by Michaud, from the




C~P. XIII.]  A  Course of Historical Reading.      177
French, and C. Mills' History of the Crusades, should be
read here, with Tasso's Jerusalem  Delivered and Walter
Scott's Ivanhoe and The Talisman.
If we leave the general history of Europe and consider
its separate States and countries, we naturally turn first to
Italy. In this field the supply for English readers is unfortunately very meagre. Frederick von Raumer's History of Italy and the Italians, from the German, and J. C.
L. S. de Sismondi's history of the Italian Republics, from
the French, are works of deservedly high  reputation.
William  Roscoe's Life and Pontificate of Leo X. and
Life of Lorenzo de Medici are elegantly and carefully
written. Sir Edward Lytton  Bulwer's Rienzi, or the
Last of the Tribunes, and Romola, by "George Eliot"
(Mrs. Lewes) are historical novels of great excellence, the
last deserving all the high encomiums which it has received. Sismondi's History of the Literature of the South
of Europe is very full upon the literature of Italy.
Dante's great poem should be studied in connection with
Italian history.
It is with Spain as with Italy. There is no general
history of Spain of very high authority. This is perhaps
the less to be regretted, as this history is covered to a considerable extent by the histories of the Empire, and by
those of special periods and personages.  Mrs. Calcott's
Popular History is said by a competent critic to be as successful as the materials and the nature of the subj~ect would
allow. Ticknor's History of Spanish Literature is of the
highest authority, and is very readable. Robertson's wellknown hlistory of Charles V., Watson's Philip II., Prescott's History of Ferdinand and Isabella, Washington
Irving's Life and Voyages of Columbus, J. L. Motley's
Histories of the United Netherlands and of the Rise of the
Dutch Republic, supply in a good measure the deficiency
of a single general history of this splendid but ill-fated
12




178              Boosks and Reading.        [caPr. IIm.
country. Napier's Peninsular War is one of the ablest
and most interesting of all military histories.
Spain naturally suggests Holland, inasmuch as the fortunes of the two countries for many memorable years were
closely connected. Grattan's History of the Netherlands
is a good manual history. Motley's histories, just named,
are nearly all that could be desired for the periods of time
which they cover. For the periods subsequent to those,
the history of Holland and Belgium is treated pretty fully,
as it necessarily would be, in, the special histories. of the
great States which are adjacent, and in the general history
of Europe, and especially in all histories of the French
Revolution.
For Germany, the English reader must content himself
with Kohlrausch's General History and Menzel's History
of Germany and the Germans; both translated from the
German. Coxe's History of the House of Austria, and
Carlyle's Frederick the Great, are books of the highest
authority, the last being deformed by the author's worst
faults, which are redeemed by striking excellencies. No
book can be compared with this to enable the reader to
understand the rise and growth of the now great Prussian
power. Schiller's History of the Thirty Years' War is
full of striking and eloquent passages. J. S. C. Abbott's
Austria is a mere compilation, as it professes to be, but is
faithfully executed.
For the history of Russia we are dependent upon a few
manuals-among which Abbott's takes a respectable rank.
The more scholarly reader must resort to works in French
and German.
Geijer's History of the Swedes as translated, is unfortunately not complete.
France is a country of which the history is most closely
intertwined with that of England and America. It excites the warmest and deepest interest in almost every




C XaP. xII.]  A  Coursc of Historical Reading.    179
reader, and deserves careful study. Rev. James White's
brief history of this country, and Parke Godwin's as yet
incomplete manual, are both good. Michelet's eloquent
sketches are excellent, and Martin's elaborate volumes,
translated (as yet in part only) from the French, are admirable.  The Student's History of ]rance is dependent
on Martin, and is an excellent compend. Parke Godwin's
History of France cannot but be solid and brilliant.
Guizot's History of Civilization in France, Sir James
Stephens's Lectures on the History of Prance, Smedley's
Itistory of the Reformed Church  in Prance, Smiles's
iHuguenots, The Memoirs of the Duke of Sully and of the
Cardinal de Retz, Miss Pardoe's Louis XIV., come in as
representatives of a great number of monographs on special
topics and periods. Bungener's Preacher and King and
Priest and hluguenot, are effective and eloquent portraitures of the reigns of Louis XIV. and XV., which attract
all classes of readers.  G. P. R. James' The Huguenot
is trustworthy and useful.  The French Revolution, as
was natural, has been a very fertile theme for a great number of special histories. Mignet gives a brief and trustworthy narrative of the principal facts. Carlyle presents
the chief incidents and personages in a series of brilliant
and impressive pictures.  Thiers has wrought up the
abundant material at his command into elaborate and effective representations in his Histories of The French Revolution and of The (Consulate and Empire.  Alison's History of Europe from 1789 to 1815 gives the English aristocratic view of those convulsions in Europe. The novels
of the Erckmann-Chatrian series illustrate the same period.
Not a few tracts and treatises on the French Revolution
of a general character have been written by writers of the
first ability, which it is worth while to read in connection
with its history proper-as for example Edmund Burke's
Reflections on the French Revolution, Sir James Mackin



180              Books and Reading.        [CHA. XIII.
tosh's Vindicice Gallicce, Madame de Stael's _Events of the.French Revolution, Paine's Rights of Man, Lnmartine's
Histories, and William Smnyth's Lectures.
The history of England is the history above all others
which is important and interesting to the man of English
origin, not merely because it is the history of his own nation and lineage, but because it records the development of
the liberty and the institutions, of the literature and the
commerce which have already exerted the most widespread influence upon the human family, and which are
destined to exercise a still more extensive influence on
future generations. The history of many of the countries
of Europe, as of Holland, France, and Prussia, may present many single passages of dramatic interest; they are
ennobled by the character and deeds of many heroes in arts
and arms; they have added many single products to human civilization of lasting value and splendid renown.
But none of these have achieved so much for man, by as
uniform and steady progress in a noble direction, as have
England and America. We say England and America,
for to the historic student both these countries are one.
No other countries have embodied their achievements in
political institutions so free, in laws so beneficent and humane, in a public sentiment so efficient, so just, and so
wide-reaching, and in a literature so various and so ennobling. The Englishman who is not proud of the history
of his own country is degenerate and low-minded. The
American who does not study it with filial delight and
gratitude is narrow-minded and barbarous.  Whatever
temporary alienations may have disturbed our sympathy
with the old homestead, or whatever wrongs we may have
suffered from the haughty and unnatural jealousy of the
old mother, they should not abate in the least from the
interest which we feel in that part of the history of England which is our history as truly as it is hers, or make us




CHAP. XII.] A  Course of Historical Reading.     181
content to alienate from ourselves the least item of our
share in its achievements and its renown. Indeed, were
the American disposed to do so, he canllot avoid reading
the history of England, if he would understand his own.
Her history is a part of the history of his own country.
It is essential as an introduction to this history. What
we most i alue in our ancestral spirit was first developed
on English soil and in the conflicts which are recorded in
English annals. The habits, the principles, and the faith
which have moulded this country are English in their
origin. The literature which has both formed and expressed our public sentiment has much of it been composed
on English soil, and all of it flows in a common stream of
sentiment that has been derived from English hearths and
English altars, from English tribunals and English customs. The contributions which we have made to this
stream do not discolor its purity or disturb its flow. The
early English history is in some respects even more important to the American reader than it is to the resident
upon English soil, for the reason that to the home-born
and home-bred the traditions and customs, the names of
places, the associations that cleave to the very soil, that
haunt every common and gather about every church-yard
in the old country may in some sense and to a certain degree take the place of written history.  The American
must find all these, or their substitutes, in books and descriptions. To him books must supply the place of tradition, and it is in books only that he can interpret the origin
of the laws, the government, the church; the opinions, and
manners, which make his country to be what it is. The
resident of old England smiles at the enthusiasm with
which the American visits the old churches and churchyards to which he has been wonted from his infancy. He
wonders at the delight with which the stranger explores
the rickety houses and the rambling old streets of many a




182              Books and Reading.          [CHAP. XIII.
city or village which to him are only squalid and offensive.
But the same enthusiasm  which sends the intelligent
American to England to explore the home of his fathers,
should lead him to study with care and zeal the records of
what his ancestors did and suffered in the same old home.
The best History of England for the general reader is
Knight's Poptlar IHistory in 8 vols. 8vo. It comes down
to the death of Prince Albert, and is a history of the people as well as of courts and the cultivated classes. It is a
history of manners and of literature, of the arts and of
commerie, as truly as of the politics and the wars of the
empire. It is not written with the spirit and the power
which we find in such writers as Macaulay and Froude.
This would not be expected from a writer who acts rather
as the gatherer of the results and the conclusions which
have been reached by a judicial survey of the movements
and strifes of political and religious parties than as the representative and advocate of any. Its tone is quiet and cool. Its
summings up are deliberate and dispassionate.  It is written, indeed, in the interest of freedom, of progress, and of
toleration. It sympathizes with the people rather than with
their rulers, and with free principles and free institutions,
as against the defenders of prerogative and of tradition, but
it aims to be neither violent nor one-sided. We think, therefore, that for a single history which may serve for constant
use and reference in the library, or for frequent reading, it
is to be preferred to every other. The Pictorial History of
England, in 8 vols. 4to. by the same editor, was prepared
earlier, and with less skill in respect to style and folra.  It
is also more overloaded with matter, and is so heavy in
style as to be less readable. It terminates with the death
of George III. We have already given our opinion of
Hume's History as delightful in style and most readable
in manner, but as open to grave objection for its intensely
partisan character, as well as for the flippant though grace



CHAP. XIII.]   A  Course of Historical Reading.  183
ful insinuations with which it abounds to the disadvantage
of freedom  and Christianity.:No diligent and zealous
reader of English history, however, would be contented
not to be familiar with Hume. Among the special historians who treat of separate portions or periods of history,
we name the brilliant and spirited Macaulay, who always
sustains and excites the reader, even if offended by his
style, or forced to reject his conclusions; Lingard, who is
universally acknowledged to be eloquent and able, although he writes as the avowed defender of the Catholic
Church against the representations of Protestant historians; Lord AIalhon, now Earl Stanhope, who always
writes with dignity and elegance, and inspires confidence
in his candor if he does not transport the reader with enthusiasm for his brilliancy; Froude, whose merits as a
writer are universally acknowledged, and who has certainly set forth in a bold relief, an important class of facts
concerning the people of England and the state of the times,
even though his opinions in regard to Henry VIII., rather
astonish than convince his readers. Godwin's History of
England during the Commonwealth and Catharine Macaulay's History of England have not been read so generally
in England as they deserved, because of their pronounced
Republican sympathies.  Sir James Mackintosh's brief
and unfinished history is pronounced by all who have
read it to be brilliant and philosophical, though its style is
better suited to philosophical generalization than it is to
flowing narrative. Clarendon's History of the Rebellion is
written with warm sympathies for the cause of Charles I.,
but it has the interest which pertains to a narrative composed by one who was personally present during many
of the stirring scenes of the most memorable movement
by which England was ever agitated, and was personally acquainted with many of the leading spirits of those
times.  The Life of Colonel Hutchinson, by his widow,




184              Books and Reading.        [CaaP. XIII.
herself the fairest and the most cultivated of Puritanesses,
and the Narrative of his own Life and Times by Richard
Baxter, have a similar fresh and personal interest. Both
these works are written under sympathies and a bias in a
direction opposed to those of Clarendon. Carlyle's. Life
and Letters of Oliver Cromwell is fraught with interest to
every honest inquirer for historic truth. It has made the
name of Cromwell respected in circles that for generations
had named it with contemptuous scorn, and came near
to give Cromwell a statue among the rulers of England in
the corridor of the Houses of Parliament. The Diary of
John Evelyn was written by a devoted Royalist of accomplished  culture  and  earnest religious character.  It
stretches through the times of the Commonwealth into
those of the Restoration. Pepys's Diary records most
fully many of the events which occurred after the Restoration, and presents a living picture of those frivolous and
shameless times, which is all the more trustworthy and
life-like because the writer seems unconscious of the severity of the sentence with which he condemns what he often
seems to palliate. If any person has the desire or is laid
under the necessity to learn more of the grossness of
the shameless court of Charles II., he may peruse the
Memoirs of Count de Grammont. Butler's Hudibras should
be read by all means in connection with the history of the
Rebellion and the Commonwealth. Burnet's History of
his own Time is gossiping and garrulous, but honest. No
reader can doubt that the author might easily have been
misled by his own prejudices and the misrepresentations
of others. As little would it be denied by any one that
this history is in the main a faithful picture of the men
and scenes which it portrays. Baxter and Burnet write
from opposite points of view. Their histories cover very
nearly the same period. They were both credulous and
one-sided; but he must be a bold partisan who would




CHAP. XIII.]   A  Course of Iistorical Reading.   185
deny the honesty of either. Lord John Hervey's Memoirs of the Reign of George II., Horace Walpole's Letters
(several series,) and his Journal of the Reign of George
III., are instructive and entertaining.
Guizot's History of the Revolution of 1848, as also
Cromwell'; Monk, or the Fall of the Republic, are of especial value as giving the opinions upon critical questions of
a candid and well-informed Frenchman.
Mackintosh's History of the Revolution of 1688, and
Fox's Life of James II., are both written by earnest
Whigs and pronounced partisans of the Revolution, and
are esteemed of the highest authority. If one reads Macaulay, however, it would seem that he might be satisfied in
this direction. There is one political history of England
which no intelligent reader, especially no intelligent American, can possibly dispense with, and that is The Constitutional History of England by the judicious and fair-minded
Hallam. This history, with the supplement of the same
by T. E. May, from  1760 to 1860, is of priceless worth.
We would almost say to any reader, if you can read but a
single history of England, peruse this above all others, for
the light that it sheds upon what is most important to us in
respect to the heritage which we have received and derived
from our English ancestors. It should never be forgotten
that what has made our country what it is was but the development of the free spirit, the principles, the rights, and the
institutions which our fathers brought with them across the
seas; and that the story of the origin and growth of all
these is more interesting and instructive to us than it can
be to the Englishman at home. The beginnings of this
history of Hallam are to be found in his work on the Middle Ages. Dr. Robert Vaughan's Revolutions of English
History are excellent examples of instructive and trustworthy historical essays. Vaughan's History of England
under the Stuarts is worth consulting. Goldwin Smith's




186             Books and Readinzg.         [CHAP. xIII.
little worlks on Ireland and The Empire are of surpassing
interest and value.
There are not a few readers who are especially attracted
to the history of the stirring times of the Commonwealth.
Such readers should not overlook Mr. John Forster's
Statesmen of the Commonwealth, his history of The Debates
on the Grand Remonstrance, and his Life of Sir John Eliot.
Goldwin Smith's Tlhree:English Statesmen will satisfy the
most ardent champion of the cause of the Parliament.
Burton's Cromwellian Diary will attract the patient delver
into the sources from which history is derived. - The comparative freedom of the press which was so long allowed in
England has given birth to a multitude of political pamphlets, tracts, handbills, lampoons, caricatures, which are
invaluable for any zealous and patient student of any of the
later, periods of English history. Some of these have been
collected and reprinted in series, like The Somers Tracts
and The Harleian Miscellany.  Many others have been
gathered by book-collectors, and are found in the largest
and best furnished libraries in this country. It is quite
aside from our aims to give any titles or references for matter cf this kind. Those who have the capacity or taste for
such researches usually know what they need and where to
find it. We only observe that Hansard's:Debates, Dodsley's Annual Register, and the Celebrated State Trials can
be readily found and referred to. The collected speeches
of the great orators who have been distinguished at the bar
and inll Parliament, and the biographies of the great political leaders, are the most interesting commentaries and
illustrations of the political history of the country. A very
convenient and comprehensive work of American authorship, Goodrich's British Eloquence, contains a good selection of the best speeches of the leading British orators, from
Sir John Eliot to Lord Brougham, with carefully prepared
sketches of the life and times of each, and many excellent




CHAP. XIII.]   A Course of Historical Reading.      187
explanatory foot-notes. This book has been highly commended in England, which has produced no manual which
deserves to be compared with it for comprehensiveness and
careful preparation.
The history of the British Empire can scarcely be considered as in any sense completed if Martin's History of the
Colonies and Mill's British India are not consulted.
Miss Martineau's History of England since the Peace, in
4 vols. 8vo., is very full upon many points of very recent
interest, and is a very useful compilation.
The earlier history of England may attract the special
attention of a limited class of readers. The works of J.
M. Kemble are of the highest authority in Anglo-Saxon
history, but Sharon Turner's History of the Anglo-Saxons
will meet the wants of most readers, and is easily accessible.
Sir Francis Palgrave's England during the Anglo-Saxon
Period is also one of the few classical books in this department. John Thrupp's Anglo-Saxon Home is a monograph
of no little interest.  Our English Home: its Early History
and Progress, is a work of similar character.  Thierry's
HIistory of the Norman Conquest, from the French, is brilliantly written, though probably in many points more eloquent and highly colored than solidly true. Freeman's
History of the Norman CYonquest is'likely to supersede all
other books on this subject. T. Wright's History of Dress,
Manners, and Sentiments in.England during the M3iddle
Ages is a work of some interest, though not superior to
the chapters in the Pictorial History upon these topics.
A few among many historical novels may be named
which illustrate different periods of English history. E.
L. Bulwer's Last of the Barons; Scott's Ivanhoe, Kenilworth, Wtroodstock, Fortunes of Nigel, Peveril of the Peak,
Old iMortality, etc., etc.; Kingsley's iereward and Westward Ho! Thackeray's Henry Esmond; Thie Youth of
Shakespeare; W. Shakespeare, His Life and Tinmes; Mrs.




188             Books and Reading.        [CHAP. XIII.
Charles' The Draytons and The Davenants, and On Buth
Sides of the Sea, are a few of the many tales which are
fitted to throw no little light and interest upon different
periods and passages of English history. To the same
class of works belong The Diary of Lady Willoughby, The
Maiden and Married Life of Mary Powell, and others.
We have already recognized the important truth that
the literature of every country must be freely and familiarly consulted in order to master its history. This is true
in a pre-eminent sense of English history. The freedom
of thought and speech which the English people have asserted for themselves from very early times has expressed
itself in an endless variety of productions more or less
worthy to be called its literature, the study of which enables us to understand the temper of the times. The more
we read the great writers of each generation, the more
completely can we understand the spirit of the age in which
they lived. The more various our reading is, especially
of all sorts of ephemeral and miscellaneous publications, the
greater will be our satisfaction. Much of the most lively
and most effective English writing has been composed upon
political themes and occasions. Much of it has been inspired by the noblest patriotism, in the double form of
chivalrous loyalty on the one side, and of stern devotion to
the Parliament and the people on the other. Not a little
of the most spirited thought and the most effective writing
have been incited by party virulence. John Milton" Andrew Marvel, John Dryden, Daniel Defoe, Roger L'Estrange, Jonathan Swift, Samuel Johnson, Edmund Burke,
Sir James Mackintosh, Richard Price, Lord Brougham,
Samuel Romilly, Sydney Smith, Robert Southey, William
Cobbett, S. T. Coleridge, John Wilson, T. B. Macaulay,
Richard Cobden, and hosts of others, have been distinguished as political writers, and every reader of their
writings of necessity makes new additions to his knowledge




CHAP. XIII.]   A Course of ITistorical Reading.   189
of the events of English history. What we have said in
general of the significance of pamphlets and newspapers as
interpreters of history, is in a special sense true of the history of England and America. For the American who has
visited England and who would understand the country in
many of its most interesting features both physical and social the following may be named, H. Colman's European
Life and Manners, Wm. Howitt's Rural Lfe in -England,
J. M. Hoppin's Old England.
We hardly need add, that much of the best and most
permanent knowledge of the history of England is to be
acquired by the study of the lives of its eminent men.
Many of these lives have been written with special care by
their personal and familiar friends, or those devoted to the
cause or interest in which they were conspicuous.  Individual men in England have always been prominent in
the eye of the public, and have impressed themselves
strongly upon every great cause. The lives of John Knox,
John Wesley, Johnson, Goldsmith, Burke, Garrick, Reynolds, Chatham, Pitt, Buxton, Walter Scott, Chalmers,
Arnold, Keble, of Romilly, Robert Hall, and Henry
Crabb Robinson, are not less valuable as contributions to
the general history of the times in which these individuals
lived, than as additions to our personal knowledge of individual character.
The history of America is limited especially to that of
the United States, for reasons which are so obvious as not
to require enumeration. Bancroft is very full, and generally very accurate, on the Colonial history of the States,
and his history generally is indispensable as a work of reference. It is unfortunately written in an ambitious style,
which sometimes excessively crowds the information which
it seeks to give, and not infrequently distracts the attention by affected turns of thought and exaggerated declamation.  It is foolishly demagogical at times, and. betrays




190              Books and Reading.         [CHAP. XIII.
also somewhat of the want of earnest faith in the very
truths and principles which it ostentatiously parades before
the reader.  In one word, it is very deficient in the sterling
qualities of simplicity of matter and of manner. Hildreth
lacks neither earnestness nor directness. Unfortunately,
this very able writer, though wholesome and whole-souled
in his strong attachments to the Federal party, is so obviously bitter in his spirit, and intolerant in his judgments, as
to weaken the confidence of his readers in his candor and
trustworthiness in respect to all subjects.  His history
terminates with the close of Washington's administration.
He has no sympathy with religious faith or fervor in any
form; least of all with the religious aims of the New-England settlers, and no tolerance for their political systems.
He does them scant justice in many other particulars.
Palfrey's History of New England is eminently fair, truthful, and trustworthy in its representations of its themes,
as well as a model for classical condensation and elegance.
Burke's History of European Settlements in America is
written with spirit and philosophic insight, and Parkman's
well known volumes need only be referred to in passing.
The history of almost every State in the Union has been
written by some well-known writer. Many of these States
have also an historical society which has published collections of old pamphlets and other important documents.
The histories of many counties, towns, and churches have
been written with more or less fidelity and success. These
particular and local histories should receive especial attention from every person who reads history at all. These
local fields are within the reader's own observation. The
events and personages are those of which he can form, in
some sort, a personal judgment. Human nature is very
nearly the same on a large and on a limited scale. A
town-meeting is a Congress or Parliament in miniature.
A village or church quarrel represents a national war or




CHAP. XIII.]   A Course of Historical Reading.     191
an ecclesiastical schism.  A traditional jealousy between
the north and south end, or the east and west side of a
township, is the type of a great sectional controversy that
has endured for generations. A dispute over a mill privilege or a town-line represents many a border war. A.
sharp discussion between the supervisors of two towns is a
school in which to study diplomacy, and its skill to conceal
intentions and to use ambiguous language.  If we become
familiar with the history of what is within our reach; if
we learn to know what history means by reading it when
written of the persons, events, and scenes which are in a
certain sense personally known to ourselves, we shall be
able to understand it when it treats of objects that are distant in place, remote in time, and grand in their proportions. We do not include in our list any titles of books
or collections of this sort, for the most obvious reasons.
The study of the government and institutions of this
country, and of the origins and transformations of its great
political parties cannot be too earnestly recommended.
The best works on these subjects are T1ze Pederalist, which
has been edited with great care and published in two rival
editions; The Madison Papers, and the lives of Washington by John Marshall and Washington Irving. A very
able work, with Federalist sympathies, entitled Sullivan's
Letters on Public Characters, is invaluable-as is also
Theodore Dwight's History of the Iartford Convention.
For the illustration and defence of the Jeffersonian principles no better authority can be found than Jefferson's collected writings, and the laudatory memoir of his life by
Randall.  G. T. Curtis' History of- the Origin, etc., of the
U. S. Constitution, with the Commentaries on the constitution, by the eminent jurists Kent and Story, are
classical works on this subject. Benton's Thirty Years'
VTiew, or History of the Government from  1810 to 1850,
with Martin Van Buren's History of Political Parties, and




192             Books and lReading.        [CHAP. XIII.
Buchanan's History of his Administration coupled with the
Speeches of Clay, Calhoun, Webster, Seward, and Sumner,
will enable the reader to understand our political history.
Benton's Abridgement of Debates in Congress may be found
and consulted in many public and some private libraries.
Frank  Moore's American Eloquence, a  Collection of
Speeches by the most eminent Orators of America, will always be useful.
For the American Revolution, Botta may be read in addition to what Bancroft and Hildreth furnish.  B. J. Lossing's Pictorial -Field-book of the Revolution as also of The
War of 1812, gives the picturesque and striking incidents
of both, and G. W. Greene, an admirable generalized
statement of the leading facts and lessons of the first.
Trumbull's Hudibrastic poem, Mcleingal, should by no
means be omitted. For the history of the civil war, The
Rebellion Record is a great storehouse of documents, and
Greeley's American Conflict a condensed view of its memorable events.  Lossing's Pictorial History has the same
charm which belong to the other works of the same author.
The lives of Lincoln, by Raymond, Holland, and others,
and separate sketches of the campaigns of Sherman, Grant,
etc., will occur to every one.
What has been said of the relation of the biography of
Englishmen to the history of England applies to that of
the biography of Americans to our history with equal pertinence.
As the reader makes progress in the knowledge of history he will naturally desire to read some works upon the
study and philosophy of history itself; in order to learn
something of the sources from which it is derived, of the
evidence by which its assertions are supported, and the lessons which it inculcates. In some works of this kind particular directions are given in respect to the authors and
parts of authors which should be read upon particular




CHAP. XIII.]   A  Course of Historical Reading.   193
countries and periods. Bolingbroke on The Use and Study
of History was formerly much read and referred to.
Priestly's Lectures on the Study of History is a useful book.
Dr. Thomas Arnold's Lectures on Modern History, and
Goldwin Smith's Lectures on the Study of History are good
books for the general reader. G. C. Lewis' Credibility of
early Roman History, and W. C. Taylor On the lXTatural
History of Society are standard works. Prof. Henry Reed
is the author of some very elevating and suggestive lectures
on English history. Prof' William Smyth's Lectures on
Modern History, edited by Sparks, is at once an extended
directory for study and a manual of the best books and
parts of books which should be read. Frederick Schlegel's
Modern history, and A. W. Schlegel's Philosophy of History, are well worth attention as good specimens of German
generalization and philosophizing. The philosophy of
Buckle's History of Civilization in England we have already
characterized. WT. Draper's The Intellectual Development
of Europe, is written after the manner of Buckle. Some
of the ablest contributions upon this subject are in the form
of essays or reviews upon history in general or upon some
historical writei. We name as examples Macaulay's wellknown article on History in the Edinburgh Review, and an
article on Hume as an Historian in No. 73 of the London
Quarterly. The. indexes of modern periodical literature
abound in the titles of such papers.
It is safe to say that much which is written on the Philosophy of History is the product of conjecture, pretension,
or an atheistic theory of the universe, and much more is
mere philosophical romancing.
The list of books which we have furnished may seem to
many very meagre, and to others much too extensive.
The titles of many works havo doubtless been omitted
which should have been included in a list constructed for
the ends and according to the theory which we have pro13




194            Books and Reading.        [CHAP. XII.
posed. We have endeavored to indicate the books which
should be preferred by the place which they occupy in the.
several heads of the catalogue, or by the comments which
we have made upon them; but in selections of this sort
much liberty should be allowed to individual taste and
judgment. Advice ought not to be urged beyond certain
general suggestions and information. We can only say
that the list has been prepared with some care and painstaking, and is doubtless capable of being enlarged and improved.




CHAPTER XIV.
BIOGRAPHY AND BIOGRAPHICAL READING.
BIOGRAPHY is closely allied to History. We have observed, that it is only by reading the lives of distinguished
personages, that we can most satisfactorily acquaint ourselves with much that is valuable in History. It has been
forcibly said that " History is the essence of innumerable
biographies."
There is an important distinction, however, between
biography as the interpreter and representative of other
times, and biography as the record of an individual life
and the exponent of individual character. It is with
biography in the last sense that we have now to do. The
-written lives of individual men are as various as the men
who are described, and the writers who describe them.
Their interest and worth depend upon two circumstancesthe significance of the events and characters recorded, and
the skill and fidelity of their narrators. It is also true and
worthy of notice, that the interest with which any biography
is read —its value and usefulness indeed-may depend
nearly as much upon the tastes and culture of the reader as
upon either the worth and interest of the character which
is recorded, or the genius of the biographer. This, in a
sense, is true of all books, but it is especially true of books
of lives.
To many readers biography is especially uninteresting
and unattractive. Not a few persons have been heard to
say, " I hate biography —to me it is the stupidest of all
reading."  It would seem at first to be a general fact that
195




196              Books and Reading.          [CHAP. XIv.
the taste for biography must be acquired, like the taste fortomatoes or olives.  On a second thought, however, the
suggestion might occur that the fact is capable of some
sort of explanation. The first solution would probably be,
that biography must always put the reader upon a course
of analysis and reflection which is unnatural to most men.
As the majority of readers do not care to examine their
own motives and springs of action, much less do they concern themselves with those of other persons. Very many,
again, do not like soberly to estimate themselves by any
very high standard, whether it be of public opinion, of
conscience, or of God, and for a similar reason prefer not
to judge the being and doing of their fellows. To this
should be added, that the capacity for this sort of analysis
is not developed, if ever, till late in life, and hence is especially unsuited to the tastes of youth.
In view of these facts, we propose to consider the different sorts of biographies and the different methods after
which biography is written, in order that we may explain
why it is that the taste for this kind of writing is so various,-and also furnish a general directory for this department of reading. We aim here, as elsewhere, to establish
principles by which to select and judge of books of this
class, rather than to furnish a complete and annotated catalogue, to be implicitly followed.
The first class of biographies which we name are those
of incident and adventure.  The subjects of such lives are
always heroes, and the life, whether true or exaggerated,
is more or less of a romance. In biographies of this kind,
two things are conspicuous: the striking events and uncommon positions by which the life of the hero is distinoguished, and the spirit, skill, and courage with which
lie meets and overcomes them.  Books of this sort are
favorites with the young, especially with boys. It cannot
be said that such biographies are stupid or uninteresting




CIAP. XIV.] Biography and Biographical Reading.   197
to that usually very fastidious class of readers. Very few
boys are indifferent to such lives as those of General
Francis Marion, Commodore Paul Jones, Charles XII.,
Admiral Nelson, General Andrew Jackson, Napoleon
Buonaparte, General Sherman or Stonewall Jackson,
Baron Trenck, Frederic Douglass, Mungo Park, Captain
Parry or Dr. E. K. Kane. It matters little in what
particular field of adventure the hero may be engaged, it
is all the same to the boyish and often to the older reader;
provided the adventures are sufficiently stirring and hazardous, and the spirit and resources of the hero are equal
to the occasions. Whether it be on the battle-field or in a
prison, in a storm or a shipwreck, whether the conflicts,be
with bad men or good, with villains or policemen, if the,
adventures' and the heroism move the sympathies and excite
the admiration, the life is always interesting, even to boys.
Upon this principle we explain the strong hold which
Plutarch's Lives have had upon the minds of so many boys
and so many men for so many generations. The grandiose attitudes in which the great men of antiquity stand
out to view-not so much men, as moving and walking
statues —and the grand lights in which their biographer
displays them, both contribute to this impressiveness, and
have stamped their influence upon all the generations
which have read them. The lives of great criminals especially when narrated by themselves, the confessions of
famous murderers, pirates, and forgers, derive much of
their interest from the same sources. By these we expl'ain
the potent and often dangerous fascination which attracts
so many to stories of lives which were stained by daring
crime and dishonored by gross excesses of cruelty and violence. The excitement of the incidents and the pluck of
the hero are more than a match for any horror of cruelty
or aversion to crime in the youthful reader. It cannot,
we think, be said, that any of the biographies of the ci-es




198            Books and Rcading.           [CHAP. XIV.
to which we have referred are especially unattractive, or
that the reading of such lives is especially stupid.
To the same class we refer the lives of great generals and
-captains, which have fascinated so many young readers
with the thought of a military or naval career, and have
so long been the favorite reading of multitudes of older
people. Who has not delighted to read the story of Alexander of Macedon and Julius Caesar, of Prince Eugene and
Gustavus Adolphus, of the Duke of Marlboroughll and
Frederick the Great, of Napoleon and Wellington, of the
Napiers and Lord Clive, of General Havelock and Captain
Hedley Vicars, of Generals Grant and Sherman, and last,
not least, of the many youthful heroes who fell in our recent civil war? No books are more popular than the lives
of old or young soldiers, with both young and old. The
Harvard Memorial Biographies has largely this element of
interest, as well as many that are far higher.
Akin to the interest with which military biographies are
studied and read, is that which is attached to distinguished
historical personages.  Such characters are indeed often
military heroes; but whether they are or are not, their
career is of that public and heroic sort which attracts the
attention of those readers who require startling scenes and
splendid actions. The lives of kings and queens, of courtiers and court favorites, have always been noticeably popular; the more minute and detailed are their descriptions
of the scenes in which they figure, so much the better.
Whether the scene be public or private; whether it be a
pageant or a ball, whether a frivolous or a criminal intrigue, is altogether indifferent. The elevation of the station,
the splendor of the surroundings and the wide-reaching
character of the results will always invest the life of the
central personage with a real or a factitious importance.
The biographies of Alexander and the Caesars, of Charlemagne and Alfred the Great, of HIcnry IV. of France and




CHAP. xiv.J  Biographly and Biographical Reading.  199
Henry VIII. of England, of Charles V. and Francis I.,
of Philip II. and William the Silent, of Frederick the
Great and George III., of Charles I. and Oliver Cromwell,
of James II. and William III., of Elizabeth and Mary
Stuart, of all the Queens of England down to Victoria, are
read with breathless interest in many a log-hut and thatched
cottage, simply because the personages were kingly or great.
The reading of kings and courts introduces to the imagination brilliant pageants, splendid dresses, imposing state,
thrones, crowns, gorgeous robes, and long processions of personages magnificently grand. Indeed, as we have already
noticed, much of our pleasure in reading history arises from
our sympathy with the fortunes and the story of the great
historical personages who have figured prominently in its
scenes of splendor and depression, of victory or defeat.
Closely allied to these are great statesmen and political
leaders, diplomatists and orators, who have helped and
hindered sovereigns and nations, whose intellect and skill
have sustained or thwarted the plans of kings, have inspired
the achievements or marred the fortunes of great nations.
The interest in the events and the heroes is in these cases
of a more elevated description. The arena is intellectual,
the struggles are of sagacity, eloquence, or craft. The
issues are the progress or regress, the triumph or downfall
of a great party or a great empire. The reader who has
intelligence enough to comprehend the nature of such struggles, and the courage and skill which are required for success, always follows with interest the personal career of
this class of great men. The lives of Wolsey, Sir Thomas
More, and Cranmer, interest us as deeply as the life of
Henry VIII. The personal character and history of Burleigh, Leicester, Essex, Raleigh, and Bacon,we follow with
as keen an interest as the career of the imperious but capricious Elizabeth, and the pedantic and conceited James. The
lives of Laud and Strafford are, if possible, more exciting




200             Books and Reading.        [CHAP. XIv.
than those of the ill-fated sovereign whom their counsels
so fatally misled. Sir John Eliot, John Hampden, Lord
Falkland, William  Pym, Sir Harry Vane, and Colonel
Hutchinson have left lives as fraught with exciting interest
as that of Cromwell himself. We follow the lives of Algernon Sidney and of Lord Russell with far more breathless
attention than we do the stupid and senseless course of the
bigoted monarch who sent them both to the scaffold. Richelieu, Mazarin, Sully, and De Retz, each had a personal
character and a personal career which has an interest separate from the character and career of the great monarchs
whom they served. Lord Somers and the great Whig
leaders of the Revolution of 1688 interest us by the adroitness and personal courage with which they planned and
achieved a bloodless victory for the rights of the English
people and the establishment of constitutional restraints
upon the crown. The lives of Chatham, Fox, and Burke
are as exciting as a drama to one who knows what were the
forces against which their lives were a perpetual struggle,
and what were the weapons of argument and oratory, of
sagacity and leadership, with which they strove. Pitt presents in his life a history as interesting as that of the great
soldier against whom he subsidized the armies of Europe
with the wealth of England.
We follow in the career of Brougham and Romilly,
Mackintosh and Horner, of Macaulay and Cobden, the
great thoughts, the courageous daring, and the persevering
tenacity which have overturned the traditional policy of
England and rooted up the prejudices of centuries, though
backed by the wealth and prestige of the crown and aristocracy.
If we think of our own country we find the interest of
a drama in the more or less complete and satisfactory Biographies which we have of the lives of James Otis and
Samuel Adams, of Joseph! Warren and Patrick Henry, of




CHAP. xrv.] Biograp2hy and Biographical Reading.    201
Benjamin Franklin and Alexander Hamilton, of Thomas
Jefferson and Aaron Burr, of John Jay and'Timothy Pickcring, of John Randolph and De -Witt Clinton, of John C.
Calhoun and Henry Clay, of Daniel Webster and Martin
Van Buren, of Thomas H. Benton and William H. Seward.
The life of each of these statesmen and orators must be
intensely exciting to every one who can comprehend the
great objects for which each one of them lived, and the
energy and skill which each displayed in bringing over the
nation to his own opinions and policy. It may be questioned whether the great men of history are not the objects
of the most intense personal feelings of like and dislike,
chiefly because we view them as struggling for or against
some great cause or party which we ourselves accept or reject. It is certain that every one follows the career of his
favorite orators and statesmen with somewhat of the same
excited suspense with which he watches the course of a
living party leader in a present or impending conflict. In
England and America, where so many intelligent persons
take so warm and active an interest in political questions
and party leaders, it is not strange that the most positive
and excited interest should be.felt in the personal history
and personal character of the great men who have organized
or led those political parties in other generations, whose
traditions and passions are still active in the present.
Those readers who rise above party sympathies and considerations, and are interested in the conflicts and struggles
which result in great reforms, whether they are distinctively religious or political, moral or social, find the most
abundant excitement in the life of any great Reformer.
The incidents and the heroism kindle the imagination
and stir the blood. -In any soul in which the sense of
public justice is wakeful, and the sympathy with human
suffering is glowing, and the courage to contend against
popular opposition is determined, there is the capacity to




202            Books and Reading.         [CHAP. XIV.
be stirred by the life-history of any man who has dared to
brave power hnd faction and public opinion in favor of
suppressed truth, an oppressed class, or a much-needed but
long-delayed reform.
The lives of Savonarola, of Luther, of Ignatius Loyola,
of George Fox, of John Wesley, of William Wilberforce,
of Thomas Fowell Buxton, of John Brown, and of multitudes more, never want for sympathizing readers, even
among men who do not sympathize with the principles or
the spirit of their heroes. In the interest which is aroused
by such lives, fanaticism and imprudence are overlooked and
forgiven, and bold words and bolder deeds are admired and
applauded. The dramatic interest of the shifting positions
of the contest, and the imposing attitudes of the central
figure, often fighting single-handed with myriads of foes,
engross the attention and carry off the admiring sympathy.
We admire and sometimes adore the heroes of a cause
which we cannot but detest.
The biographies of self-made men are almost universally
attractive. No man of any generosity or spirit can avoid
being excited by the determination and perseverance which
these exemplify. Only a snob or a tuft-hunter, or a toady
to the rich or great is ashamed of a strong interest in the
men who have risen from humble beginnings. They are
especially fascinating and instructive to those young men
of limited means who aspire to make something of their own
lives. Smiles' Self-Help abounds in brief sketches of, and
allusions to, a great number of men of this class, and one is
surprised in reading such a book to find how large a number of those who have been eminent in every condition in
life have risen from lowly conditions at the start.
The interest in such records is felt alike by those who
have already risen in life and those who are just beginning
to rise-pre-eminently by the latter.
This leads us to observe that those who are earnestly de



CHAP. XIV.] Biography and Biographical ReadiAg.   203
voted to any art or profession are especially attracted to the
lives of those persons who have attained special eminence in
a similar profession or employment. Especially is this the
case if their own career is as yet incomplete-if their aspirations are high and their difficulties are manifold-if the
goal is bright but distant, and the path to it seems long and
steep. The ever-present consciousness of the difficulties
under which we labor leads us to compare our own condition with that of another like ourselves. The desire to overcome these difficulties and to attain eminence speedily, leads
us to consult the experience of those who have. succeeded,
and to inquire minutely what was the secret of their success.
We are never tired of studying their devices, of hearing
of their discouragements, of fighting over their battles, and
of triumphing in their victories. The young advocate who
is looking impatiently for his first brief, or who is forced to
wait for days for the welcome step of a new client, reads
with intense excitement the story of Erskine's speedy and
brilliant entrance into a crowded practice. The young
lawyer who proposes for himself a successful professional
career, which shall be adorned and elevated by noble aspirations and liberal culture, can find few books which are so
inspiriting as the lives of Sir Samuel Romilly and Francis
Horner, of Patrick Henry and William Wirt, of Daniel
Webster and Rufus Choate. The physician who wonders
whence his patients are to come, and whether he can ever
win his way into a lucrative practice, reads and re-reads
with fresh interest the life and experience of any city or
country doctor which he may chance to encounter. The
lives of John Hunter and Sir Charles Bell are fraught with
inspiration to him.
Many a journeyman printer has been inspired and, as it
were, remade, by the records which Franklin has left of his
own experiences at the press. Many a young writer has
read and re-read the story of Franklin's patient attempts




204             Books and Reading.         [CHAP. XIV.
to attain a good English style. The popularity of Franklin's life in America and England is a complete refutation of the assertion that biography is to the mass of readers essentially stupid and uninviting.  The life of the
Learned Blacksmith has encouraged not a few laborers at
the anvil. The lives of Watt and Arkwright, of Fulton
and Whitney, of Stephenson and Goodyear, have stimulated many an inventor to renewed patience and courage.
-No romance can excite a more kindled interest and excited
enthusiasm in any generous mind than Hugh Miller's My
Schools and Schoolmasters, as no book can possibly be
more instructive to the working-man who will follow its
guidance and yield to its inspiration. Horace Greeley is
nowhere more interesting and wise as a guide to readers
who have their own fortunes to make than in his Recollections of a Busy Life. The young physicists and scientists,
who are so numerous at the present day, can find no reading which will please and reward them so well as the lives
of Franklin and Ferguson, of Davy and Faraday, of Newton and Dalton, of George Wilson and Edward Forbes.
Artists never tire of reading the lives of the unhappy devotees of their craft, like Haydon, and the more fortunate,
like Reynolds and Turner, Gainsborough and Wilkie,
West and Allston.  Literary men of all classes gather
fresh inspiration and instruction from the biographies of
literary men —an ample and most valuable class of lives,
to which we shall again return.
The partial review which we have taken of these few
classes of biographies and the grounds of their attractiveness for their several classes of readers, enable us to gain a
more satisfactory view in regard to biography and biographical reading in general. We have seen that biography
is attractive for the incidents which it records and the sympathy which it arouses with prominent actors. Biography is interesting to this or that reader just so far as he




CHAP. xIV.] Biograp2hy and Biographical Readilng.   205
cares for and comprehends the incidents, the feelings, or
the characters which biography describes. The lives of
some men present pictures and emotions into which all,
even the youngest and the most unreflecting, easily enter.
In all cases, however, the interest must depend very largely upon the skill and success with which the scenes
and characters are depicted.  If the incidents are beyond
the capacity of the reader to comprehend, through defect
of age, culture, or reflection; if the feelings and character
are such as he cannot or does not care to study or interpret
— then the life cannot be interesting; it may be positively
distasteful. We cannot expect the life of a metaphysician,
a philologist, or scientist, to be intelligible or interesting to
a child, or to a full-grown man whose knowledge and culture are limited. William Wordsworth was known to his
neighbors only as a kind-hearted and frugal neighbor.
Sir Walter Scott was esteemed by a large class of well-todo acquaintances not as the magician of the North, but
simply as the Sheriff who gave glorious suppers and was
great in his talk of dogs and horses. Burns had a jolly
set of associates, who cared more for the good fellowship
than for the poetry of his songs. What could any of these
friends of Wordsworth, Scott, or Burns know, or what
should they care for the events or the characters which
make the record of their lives so intensely interesting to
the student of literature and the student of man? That
which made their lives so famous, and the story of them
so exciting to a certain class of readers, lay entirely beyond
the range of their comprehension and their sympathy.
While then, as we have seen, there are not a few biographies which are within the range and comprehension
of all classes of readers, there are many others which are
reserved for men whose culture takes a special direction,
or is of a higher order than is accorded to the many.
The first of these which we name are those which are




203              Books and Reading.        [CHAP. XIv.
eminently psychological, i. e., those which involve an analysis and record of the inner processes or growth of the
soul. There are not a few biographies of which the chief
interest arises from and turns upon the changes in the inner life which they record. The external incidents of the
life may be unexciting, the career of the man may have
been very uneventful or very humble; but the record of
the progress of the man, of his varied experiences of feeling, of the development of his intellect, and the changes
in his opinions, of his new views of life, his strengthened
faith, his refined culture, and his intellectual or moral
achievements, lend an indescribable charm to the narrative, and gather around it a circle of excited readers.
It is obvious, however, that no man can be interested in
such a biography who has never given attention to the progress of his own inner life, or watched the several steps by
which such progress has been made. Those who recognize
the improvement of one's position in life as the great end
of living, and who measure progress by the vulgar tests of
gain in wealth or power, cannot be expected to understand
or care for the inner life of a man who esteems the culture
of the intellect, the refinement of the tastes, the victory
over the selfish and sensual passions, and the enlargement
and confirmation of all right and noble principles, as the
most elevated ends to which any life can be devoted.
Those who never look within but always look without,
must find the biography of that which is within to be
necessarily stupid and uninteresting. But those who care
for their own improvement in good habits and noble
achievements, and who are accustomed closely to watch
and carefully to judge of their progress or failure in these
particulars, may naturally be expected to study with intense
and wakeful interest the inner record of any noble life, provided the story be told with requisite skill. Those who
include moral culture and religious growth in their concep



CHAP. xIV.] Biography and Biographical Reading.    207
tion of true progress, will follow with a lively interest any
such record which is sincere, provided the subject of it be
otherwise so gifted as to attract the attention, or the story
be told in such a way as to satisfy a pure and simple taste.
Even the absence of any special gifts of nature or attainments of culture will often be abundantly compensated by
pure aspirations and honest endeavors. The record of an
honest and unlettered mind, if unskillfully made, like the
life of John Woolman, the Quaker, can be so elevated by
simple purity of heart, or like the life of John Bunyan, can
be so irradiated by flashes of seraphic fire, as successfully to
vindicate the essential superiority of moral and religious
greatness over greatness of every other sort. But no gifts of
genius in the subject or skill of portraiture in the writer
can or ought to compensate for the absence of moral earnestness in a professedly ethical biography, or for the presence
of the debasing alloy of Pharisaism and cant in a professedly religious life. Hypocrisy is always hollow; Pharisaism and affectation are invariably offensive, in proportion
to the elevation of the ideals to which they pretend to rise,
and the purity of the saintliness which they profess to imitate.  Hence, while a good biography of a truly good man
is the best and often the most inspiring of all biographies,
if it be written with tolerable skill; an inflated, overstrained
and laudatory life of a man who was very imperfectly or
defectively good, is often one of the most offensive and
depressing of books.
The temptation to error in the form of overdoing in the
quantity and quality of moral and religious biography is exceedingly strong.  The religious public is frightfully inundated with the lives of persons whose lives had better not
have been written, or if written, would better have been
privately printed.  It is the dictate of friendship to magnify the virtues of the departed, and to fail to notice their defects, when we look at either through the tears which we




208          Books and Reading.-          [CHAP. XIV.
weep at their graves; but no man is, for such a reason,
justified in setting forth the life of a person of merely comluonplace goodness, simply because he was good. While
every good life is far more eloquent and winning in the
circle which it illumines than any book can be, those lives
only deserve to be brought before the public in a book,
which had characteristics sufficiently uncommon to make
the goodness specially attractive when it is portrayed.
Second.-The lives which we have called psychological
are usually most successfully written in greater or less part
by the persons themselves who were the subjects of themin part by their recorded conversations, their diaries and
letters, or wholly in formal autobiographies. Hence the
most satisfactory lives of really superior men are made up
of their reported sayings, their private journals, and extracts from their correspondence, set in a framework of explanatory history. Boswell's Life of Dr. Jolhnson is, for
two reasons, the best example of a life made up of sayings
and conversations. The sayings of Johnson were well
worth reporting for their intrinsic interest and value, or for
the manner in which they were expressed, and Johnson
had an admiring Boswell always at hand to report them.
It has of late become much the fashion to make up the lives
of significant men very largely from their journals and
their letters. Some of the most instructive and delightful
biographies of modern times are of this class; such as those
of Robert Burns, Charles Lamb, Robert Southey, John
Sterling, Walter Scott, John Wilson, Thomas Chalmers,
Samuel Romilly, John Foster, Dr. Thomas Arnold; of
Charlotte Bronte, J. Blanco ]White, Thomas Fowell Buxton, Edward Irving, Richard Whately, B. G. INiebuhr,
Frederick Perthes, John Keble, Frederick W. Robertson,
Henry Crabb Robinson, Baron Bunsen, Theodore Parker,
Margaret Fuller, Horace Mann, and Lyman Beecher.
In all these instances the persons named were more or




CHAP. XIV.]  Biography and Biographical Reading.  209
less distinguished for public and literary activity. This fact
suggests the remark that the lives of this class of persons are
generally more instructive and interesting than those of any
other. The reason certainly cannot be that their intellects
were superior, or their principles were more elevated; that
their feelings and tastes were more refined, or their influence was more commanding than were those of others
whose lives remain wholly unwritten. It is rather that
such men more frequently leave behind them copious materials of this sort. But even this is not universally the case.
It is only men who write easily, and of such men only here
and there one who leaves behind him a journal or diary in
which he notes events as they occur, or records his views
in regard to them, or his own principles, feelings, and aims.!Many journals which are extended and copious are chiefly
objective, and fail to express the individuality of the man,
and to manifest his inmost feelings and the springs of his
character. Tery many really able and communicative
men fail to write letters with that fullness and freedom
which should satisfy a biographer. But when all these
conditions are present, when the character or career is
worth describing, and the character and aims are copiously
expressed by the individual himself, then we have the conditions- of such a life as Lockhart's Life of Scott, or Stanley's Life of Arnold, or the Lives of B. G. Niebuhr and
Frederick Perthes, of Thomas Fowell Buxton, and the
Rev. F. W. Robertson.
The lives of men devoted to science or letters are specially interesting for another reason. Such men reflect
the sentiments of their times more completely and vividly
than men of any other class. In great part they form
these sentiments, or are the central points around which
they gather. They give to these sentiments a concrete
and personal interest, and cause the times to revive and
live before the eyes of the reader. They are very often
14




210             Books and Reading.           [CHAP. XIV.
symbolic and representative men-men who either originate or impersonate some striking tendency of thought or
feeling. At all events, they record in their own diaries
and letters more or less fully, by allusion or formal discussion, the phases of thought and feeling which prevail
in the community, and so preserve fresh and living pictures of transient and momentary events. These pictures
are usually colored with the hues of their own personal
feelings. They are warm with love, clouded by displeasure, or disturbed  by anxiety or terror.  English literature has of late been greatly enriched with many biographies of this class, of the choicest description-biographies interesting from the excellence of the character
which they record, from the variety of incidents which
they narrate, from the exciting phases of prevailing
thought and feeling which they reflect, and from the insight which they open into the inner springs and motives
of the persons described.
Autobiographies have for many, not to say for most persons, a peculiar charm. They do not always give so cornplete a picture of the inner life as we desire, nor do they
reveal so fully what was characteristic of the man as we
hope to discover when we begin to read; but they almost
uniformly delight the student of human nature, by their
honest and nza'f detail of what we are more or less curious
to know. They are usually brief, almost every writer of
his own life being apparently overcome with irresistible
modesty when he attempts to introduce to the great public
his comparatively humble self. They are often-unfinished,
the writer getting on very comfortably with the recollections of his childhood and the experiences and feelings of
his early days, but growing suddenly timid as he is
obliged to look in the face the follies, and perhaps the sins,
of his later life, and not liking always to speak so freely
of others, whether dead or living, as would be necessary




CHAP. XIV.] BiograplhJ and Biographical Rcading.    211
should he speak freely of himself. It is worthy of notice
how many brief sketches of this sort are suddenly broken
off, as if the writer had become disgusted with thinking
and talking about himself, and had left for his children a
mere fragment, where they expected and longed for a full
and detailed narrative of his entire life. WVe have, however, a few autobiographies that are tolerably complete,
and they are all in their way fraught with interest. The
life of Franklin is attractive for many reasons; but preeminently because it was written by himself, and because
he tells a story which of itself is fitted to interest every
poor boy who is beginning life, with a simplicity and directness which enlists the sympathies and holds the attention of every reader. No book has been more popular in
our country than this. None has exerted a more powerful,
influence, not always of unmixed good. Tried by the
more elevated standard of either pagan or Christian morality, it is often defective. The persistent self-seeking which
crops out so offensively now and then, and the absence of
faith in the more generous sentiments, as well as the sarcastic condescension with which Franklin treats revealed
religion, are not always healthful. They have lowered
the tone and weakened the faith and the principles of not
a few. But with all these abatements its attractions are
at this moment as fresh as at the first. It has in these
days the additional merit of giving a vivid picture of simple times forever gone by, as well as of unfolding the inner movements of a very unique personality. For the
same reason that the apprentice and clerk read Franklin
with special interest, the scholar never tires of reading Gibson's Memoirs of his own Life and WTritinys, or the brief
autobiographies of HIume, Voltaire, and Lord Herbert of
Cherbury. The lovers of excitement and adventure will
return again and again to the autobiographies of Cellini,
Vidocq, Molfe Tone, and Madame du Barri.  These auto



212              Books and Reading.          [CHAP. XIV.
biographies, with many others, are found in what professes
to be a Collection of thle most Interesting and Amusing Lives
ever published, written by the parties themselves. London:
1826-1832. This collection certainly contains a very great
variety of very amusing and instructive reading. The
fragments of autobiography which often precede the more
elaborate lives of prominent men are almost invariably
read and re-read with careful attention.
We cannot think that biography is especially uninteresting and unattractive. On the other hand, we believe that
the want of interest in any life or class of lives must arise
from one or more of three prominent causes-a want of
capacity to comprehend the character described-a want of
sympathy with his aims and principles, or some defect of
skill in the biographer. While, as we have seen, there are
some biographies which interest both the young and the
old, the uncultured and the refined, there is a very great
number which, from the nature of the case, can only interest a few-according as they understand or care for the
style of man which the life describes. It is therefore impossible to furnish any but the most general rules for the
selection of this class of books-and it is, for this reason,
less easy to select any list which may be called the best.
What are the best for one age, or one degree and kind of
culture, may be wholly unsuited for another.
There is no class of reading which is ethically more
profitable than this. "When I am sick of the world in
church and state, in solitude and in society," says a sharp
and stern thinker, "I turn for relief to the portraits of two
saintly heroes which hang in my library, and say to myself,
These two were honest and noble men, and they teach me
never to despair of mankind or of myself."  In like manner there is nothing so quickening and elevating to the
generous and high-minded as to read a few pages in the
biography of one who has been a prince among men for




CHAP. xIV.] Biography and Biographical Reading.    213
greatness and goodness combined, especially if his life and
character are largely interpreted by himself.  "i'No young
man can rise from the perusal of such lives as those of Buxton and Arnold without feeling his mind and heart made
better, and his best resolves invigorated." "Horner says
of the life of Sir Matthew Hale, that it filled him with
enthusiasm; and of Condorcet's Eloge of Haller,'I never
rise from the account of such men without a thrilling palpitation about me, which I know not whether I should call
admiration, ambition, or despair.'  A snlatch of such reading is like the injection of fresh and generous blood into
the veins, or the drinking a generous and refreshing draught
to one who is thirsty and faint, or the breathing copiously
of a highly oxygenated atmosphere.  That young man or
young lady is to be congratulated who has his or her favorite biographies to which lie or she habitually turns and returns-if, indeed, they present noble ideals. The lives of
Dr. Arnold and of F. WV. Robertson have done more for
the quickening and encouragement of Christian culture and
of Christian nobleness in the present generation, than the
personal influence of the two men when living-inspiring
as were the teaching and intercourse of the one, and the
preaching and conversation of the other. In no sense is it
so eminently true, that the good which men do lives after
them, as when the spirit and essence of their lives are embalmed in a worthy biography.
"More sweet than odors caught by him who sails
Near spicy shores of Araby the blest,
A thousand times more exquisitely sweet,
The freights of holy feeling which we meet
In thoughtful moments, wafted by the gales
From fields wlhere good men walk or bowers wherein they rest."
But how is it with the evil which bad men do?  Is not
this equally powerful to ensnare and corrupt?  To this we
reply, such evil is not often so frankly and fully exposed,




214             Books and Reading.           [CHAP. xnr.
and never by themselves; and herein is very strikingly illustrated the homage which vice pays to virtue. It is rare
that a bad man confesses to the world in his letters how
bad he is, unless he does it with repentance and shame.
It is rarer even that a man writes down in his diary, as an
eminent scholar was once in the habit of doing, " This day
read the Antigone of Sophocles, after which I was desperately drunk." Or if a man occasionally forgets decency in
his letters, and self-respect in his diary, it is rare that his
biographer will spread out such revolting details for the
perusal of the public. If he is forced to allude to the sins
or the foibles of his hero, he usually endeavors to palliate
and excuse them. No libertine or drunkard, no unbeliever
in duty or denier of God, ever shines attractively in an
honestly written life, or inspires his readers with a desire
to be like him. But while the lives of bad or imperfect
men do not attract, they very often warn. In the realm
of biography the saying is emphatically fulfilled, "The
name of the wicked shall rot."  The memory of the wicked
does rot, either in the withering neglect of succeeding generations, to which it is so often doomed, or in the putrescent phosphorescence at whose lurid light posterity stares
and shudders.
In view of these considerations, we advise for all those
who have leisure and opportunity a large and liberal reading of biography. We advise that the taste for this description of reading should be fostered. If fostered, it certainly will grow more active and intense. The study of
biography is the study of man. A generous familiarity
with the lives of men of all sorts of opinions tends to liberalize the feelings and to enlarge the understanding. Its
influence in this regard is like that of a very extended and
varied acquaintanceship with living men. Nor need we
fear to study the lives or to converse with the characters
of men from whom we differ very widely in opinions, or




CHAP. XIV.] Biography and Biographical Reading.   215
diverge very materially in our sympathies. If our own
principles are fixed, we shall find sufficient strength and
inspiration from the lives of theimen with whom we agree
in opinions and character to enable us to withstand, as far
as we ought to desire, any counter-influence from the lives
of those with whose opinions we do not entirely sympathize. No man of liberal culture can afford to be without
-no such person ought to desire to be wholly withoutthe liberalizing influence which comes from a study of the
lives of men of the greatest variety of opinions and charac —
ters. On the other hand, no man whose opinions are fixed
or whose principles are earnest can fail to have his favorite
biographies, his lives of men most loved and honored, to
which he continually resorts-it may be to enjoy with
them  a few moments' converse in their most elevated
moods, or perhaps to rise by their aid to those noble positions which the soul is more competent to gain for an hour
than to keep for a day.
Of biographical reading we may say, that the man who
has no heroes among the truly noble of the earth, must have
either a sordid or a conceited spirit. He must be too ignoble to admire that which is really above himself, or
must be too satisfied with himself to care to concern himself with the characters or the claims of others. He who
reverences and admires no one of the great and good of
other times, is likely to reverence and admire the man who
is least worthy of honor and admiration, and that is himself,-and to bring to his altar an unshared and solitary
worship.
Two rules may serve in the selection and judgment of
biographies. The first is, "see that the man whose life
you would read had a marked and distinctive character."
The second is, "see that this character be set forth with
truthfulness and skill." A man with small individuality,
either of gifts or of goodness, is not entitled to have his




216              Bookcs and Readinzg.         [caaP. xIv.
life written, and certainly has no claim that his life should
be read.  The circumstance that he held a high position
in life, or attracted honor or attention from his wealth or
rank or office, is of the slightest possible significance to
those who come after him, provided there was nothing in
his genius, his industry, or his goodness which entitles
him to the consideration of others.  Mere goodness which
is commonplace, however useful and honorable in the living, cannot shine as an example through a written life, unless there was something distinctive enough to attract the
attention and to impress the feelings of lookers-on. The
number of stupid biographies which encumber our libraries, of lords and generals and bishops, and of clergymen
and physicians and lawyers who were simply significant
from their position, is something frightful to contemplate.
Now and then they fill several bulky volumes. They are
glanced at by a limited circle, and stand upon the shelves
of our libraries, to be consulted by an antiquarian or a
genealogist, and this is all the service which they render.
It is not enough, however, that the subject of the life
should have had something in his character that was so
distinctive as to be worth recording. The life should be
skilfully set forth by his biographer. The power of seizing the individual characteristics by nice analysis, or of
interpreting them by sagacious generalizations, does not
"CC come by nature " to all biographers. The gift of selecting from conversations and correspondence what is worth
preserving is not possessed-certainly it is not exercised,
by all. To narrate with method and clearness, and also
with spirit and life, is not so easy to a writer as it is pleasant to the reader.
The following protest, directed against the indiscriminate publication of an author's remains, is equally appropriate to those lumbering biographies in which little wise
selection rules:



CHAP. XIV.]   Biography and Biographical Reading.   217
"The imperfect thing or thought,
The fervid yeastiness of youth,
The dubious doubt, the twilight truth,
The work that for the passing day was wrought,
The schemes that came to naught,
"The sketch half-way'twixt verse and prose,
That mocks the finished picture true,
The splinters whence the statue grew,
The scaffolding'neath which the palace rose,
The vague, abortive throes,
"And crudities of joy or gloom:In kind oblivion let them be!
Nor has the dead worse foe than he
Who rakes these sweepings of the artist's room,
And piles them on his tomb."
Whether a particular biography  will meet the conditions prescribed must be left, in most cases, to the judgment
of the reader himself. To attempt to make a selection from
the very rich and copious library of works of this class
with which English literature abounds, would be difficult, if not impracticable, within our limits. We must
ask the reader to accept in its place the classification
which we have made, and the illustrative examples which
we have cited under its several heads.




CHAPTER XV.
NOVELS AND NOVEL-READING.
FRO-M History and Biography to Fiction and Poetry
the transition is natural and easy. It is none other than
from true to what Lord Bacon calls "feigned history"
-the one being the narration of events which have
actually occurred, the other the narration of events which
are only supposed to have taken place. The form of the two
is the same; the matter is different. The story which the
novelist and poet narrate would be history if what is narrated had actually taken place. But the end in both cases
always is or always should be the same-i. e., the communication of truth; not always what we call real truth
in the sense of actual or literal occurrences, but always real
truth in the sense of those relations and impressions which
are real in that import which is most comprehensive and
profound. Whenever the imagination, by its creations of
incidents and drapery, can assert or impress truth of this
kind more effectually than the memory by its transcripts
from reality, then is it at liberty to do so, provided it does
not disturb the relations of truth to veracity. There are
other ends for which the truth is conveyed than the ends of
instruction and science. It may often be largely for ends
of amusement; but it is truth nevertheless. The mirror of
the imagination must always reflect nature, though with enlarged and altered proportions. The criterion of every good
work of imagination is well expressed by the description of
the Arcadia of Sir Philip Sidney as a work of which " the
invention is wholly spun out of the phansie, but conformable to the possibilitie of truth in all particulars."
218




,casP. Xv.]   Novels and Novel-Reading.         219
TWie have already defended works of imagination from
ignorant and prejudiced objections. We have also sought
to show that the highest advantage which can come of
literature and reading of all kinds is the service which
they render to the imagination, as they enrich it with
multiform and varied images of beauty, elevate it by noble associations, and  inspire it with  pure emotions.
We shall neither repeat nor expand our argument in vindication of Fiction and Poetry. If anything needs to be
added, it will naturally present itself in our suggestions
concerning the wise and profitable use of both.
Prose Fiction is of comparatively recent growth in English literature. It is within the present century that it
has attained its gigantic proportions. Our grandmothers
read Rasselas, The Vicar of WTakefield, Sir Charles
Grandison, The Castle of Otranto, and a few other tales.
Some of our grandfathers allowed themselves now and
then the entertainment of Tom Jones, Humphrey Clinker,
and Tristram Shandy.  There are thousands of their
grandchildren who would be puzzled to tell what novels
they have read, or to recite the names of- their authorsboth are so numerous. Two novels a week is the smallest
number that is produced as an average from the British
Press, if we say nothing of the novels translated from the
French and German; and the names of all the leading
popular novelists it would be difficult for even the most
desperate and practised novel-reader to recount. The year
1814, in which Taverley was published, ushered in the
new period of English, and, we may say, of modern fiction, and since that time the number and variety of novels
has been steadily increasing. The writing of Fiction has
been widened and enriched as an art, and the reading of
Fiction has been more distinctly recognized and worthily
appreciated as a means of culture and a source of enjoyment. Juvenile Fiction has of late been increased to




220              Books and Reading.          [CHAP. XV.
well nigh enormous dimensions. The writing of novels
]las become one of the regular professions; the reading of
novels is the chief occupation of a certain class of persons
who are exempt from the ordinary claims of business
or study, and even the criticism of novels has become a
specialty-almost as much as the criticism of art or music.
The world of Fiction in many minds overbears and outweighs the world of reality. To not a few, the creations
of the imagination are more interesting and absorbing than
those of real life. With many persons the successful conduct
of a plot excites more interest and elicits a more active
criticism than the direction of a campaign, and the development of a fictitious character is watched with as keen
an interest as the life and fortunes of a great general or an
eminent statesman.  The  issue of a tangled story is
followed more anxiously than the result of an exciting
criminal trial, or a closely contested political canvass.
Prof. David Masson, in his very able and readable
work on British Novelists, divides British novels, since
Scott's appearance in the field, into thirteen classes, as follows: 1. The Novel of Scottish Life and Manners; 2. The
Novel of Irish Life and Manners; 3. The Novel of English Life and Manners; 4. The Fashionable Novel; 5.
The Illustrious Criminal Novel; 6. The Traveler's
Novel; 7. The Novel of American Manners and Society;
8. The Novel of Eastern Manners and Society; 9 and 10.
The Military and Naval Novel; 11. The Novel of Supernatural Phantasy; 12. The Art and Culture Novel; 13.
The Historical Novel.
This classification cannot be accepted as exhaustive, but
it may serve to impress the reader with the variety of topics
thrat are treated in modern novels, as well as be convenient
for reference and illustration. A broader and simpler
classification is that which divides all novels into two
groups, according as they are more or less conspicuously




CHAP. XV.1     Novets and Novel-Reading.           221
Novels of Incident or Novels of Character, i. e., according
as they are more or less occupied with pictures to the objective phantasy, or as they present strongly marked and
strikingly irfdividualized characters.  There are no novels
of incident in which various personages do not figure
largely, but there is only now and then one in which these
personages have the relief and reality of living men and
women. with a distinct personal existence and a strongly
marked individuality. On the other hand, there are no
novels of character in which there is not more or less of a
story or plot. But the interest in all novels which deserve
to be so-called, turns invariably upon the illustration or the
development of character.  Novels of incident are especially
fitted for the young, because their tastes are eminently objective. They like an exciting and picturesque story, no
matter how grotesque and improbable it may be. Persons
are as real and objective to them as incidents and events.
It is what these do and suffer for which their readers care,
not what they are, or how their characters are impeded or
made known. With the analysis of their motives, their
inner conflicts of feeling, and the developments or changes
of their character, their readers have little concern. The
excitement of the story is the chief attraction, and if the
story is exciting, they neither care nor inquire whether the
events are probable or possible, or whether the characters
are natural or true. Nor are they fastidious in respect to
either imagery or style. Indeed, provided the imagery is
bold, they do not care if it be coarse and highly-colored;
and provided the language be strong and passionate, they
do not mind if it be declamatory and raving. The taste of
young people in respect to novels is very like their taste
for food. They do not totally reject the more delicate
fruits and dishes,. but they swallow them without discrimination, and without appreciating their exquisite flavor.
But the stronger and coarser edibles they devour not only




222            Books anid Jeadirg.          [CUaP. XV.
with no offence, but often with an astonishing relish, as
unripe apples, squash-like melons, rank soups, and ranker
meats. They are not insensible to IRobinson Crusoe and
the Pilgrim's Progress, and the manifold delicatesses of
modern fiction; but they do not see the difference between
these and the Pirate's Own Book, Jack Sheppard,- Beadle's
Dime Nrovels, and the sensational stories which inflate the
English language till it almost bursts with the expansion,
and whose heroes scream out all the possible varieties of
hysterical passion.  There is nothing which  is more
amazing to a refined and cultured mother than the favorite
stories of her obstreperous boy. But all this is in the
course of nature, and will be outgrown in the progress of
time. There is hope that the boy will grow up to his
mother's tastes, if her tastes in reading are cultured and refined. But what hope is there for him if her favorite
novels are, in point of culture, not higher than his coarse
and sensational stories? As long as the savage sees lines
and shades of beauty in the tattooing or the war-paint that
makes the face hideous, and the wild African grins with
ecstacy at the flaunting colors which shame the noon, so long
will sensation novels of the vulgar sort be read with eagerness, and be written, lauded, and sold. It is well to remember that the acquisition of wealth does not necessarily
bring refinement in the intellectual tastes, and that much
which is called culture of the superficial sort, and which
enables a person to be self-possessed and at ease in society,
does not of course involve culture of the imagination or the
intellectual judgment. Fashionable people, and people
who aspire to give tone to society, may delight in low and
vulgar novels. Even persons who are morally pure and
right-hearted may want the capacity to discriminate between what is high and low toned in fiction. It now and
then happens that a family rises suddenly to wealth from abject poverty. Its members pass in a month from rags to




CIAP. XV.]    Novels and Novel-Reading.          223
satins, and from squalor to diamonds, and assume the airs
of their new position with what success they may. Usually,
however, some defect in their new appointments betrays
that their culture is not complete. Sometimes their shoes or
their lace or their jewelry reveal their essential vulgarity;
sometimes it is the low and vulgar character of the fiction
in which they delight. In cases that are not so extreme
there are people whose aristocracy is unquestioned, and whose
manners have the unmistakable confidence that bespeaks
a well-established social position, who by the novels which
they habitually read, betray the essential vulgarity of their
intellectual tastes, and the low grade of their ~esthetic culture. Few things are more properly offensive to the traveler than to see a second or third rate novel in the hands of
a well-dressed and well-mannered lady, or an intelligent
and otherwise well-cultured youth. Few indications are
more depressing than to enter a house in which wealth and
comfort abound, in which taste and refinement are everywhere manifest, and perhaps a high tone of moral and religious feeling is maintained, and yet to find that the library
of the family is made up of a score or two of third-rate
novels, with perhaps a few books of devotion.
If we suppose the taste for different kinds of fiction to
be developed in a normal way from youth to age, from
rudeness to culture, the novel of mere incident will
gradually give way to the novel of character. The personage with a name and nothing more, who figures in so
many stories for children, and in so many sensational
novels for grown people, will be required to give some indications of individual personality. The reader will learn
to look for men, and men of definite and unmistakable individuality, in the leading characters of any novel which
he tolerates or delights in. He will by and by learn to notice that character cannot be made known with skill or suecess, by mere description, but must be expressed in the words




224              Books and Reading.           [EHAP. xv.
or deeds of the personages portrayed-that a long-winded
and elaborate setting forth of what sort of a man this or
that person is, attended perhaps with a commentary upon
the characteristics of his class, is not nearly so satisfactory
to the reader as the brief or pithy sayings which are put
into his mouth, or his characteristic actions when brought
into a critical position. The second step of progress in the
taste for fiction may be said to be attained when the reader
has learned to prefer the novel of character to the novel
of incident, and can distinguish the one from the other.
The third stage is reached when the reader learns to
study and analyze the characters which he finds in fiction;
when they not only enlist his sympathies by assuming distinct and personal being, but he can study them in their
motives, trace out their springs and discover their leading traits, and illustrate them to his own judgment by examples from real life. This interest is greatly heightened
if the characters are complex, perplexing, and apparently
contradictory; and if the real secret is veiled and withheld till the development of the plot is complete. Novels
of character must of course differ greatly in the style of
character which they furnish, and their adaptation to the
power of the reader to comprehend them, or his capacity
to enjoy them. The perplexities of a hero or heroine may
arise from speculative studies or religious difficulties, or
from social inequalities, or a morbid mood induced by a
childhood of wealth and luxury, or by some reverse of fortune. Whatever may be the occasion, if the kind of human being is not such as should be looked for in the
ordinary experience of human life, and can only be developed from an exceptional nature or a very rare conjunction of circumstances, the power to understand the character will be possessed by few. Or again, if the principal
interest in the hero arises out of the peculiarities of his profession, (as of a musician or artist, like Charles Auchester,)




CHAP. xv.]    Novels and Novel-Reading.            225
the idiosyncrasies of his nature can only be fully appreciated by a few. Then, if the habits of the novelist be
scientific or philosophical, and he wishes to exhibit a hero
occupied with his specialty, or exemplifying certain limited
habits, or if he sets forth the character by technical or
scholastic terminology, or a professional or philosophical
dialect, he can expect no more than a limited class of
readers. All the so-called novels of purpose or, as they
might be termed, propagandist or doctrinal novels, whether they be Christian or Infidel, Romanist or Neological,
High Church or Evangelical, Episcopal or Presbyterian,
Royalist or Republican, Conservative or Radical, Slavery
or Anti-slavery, Poor Law or Anti-poor Law, Protectionist or Free Trade, so far as they involve any properly
theoretic discussions, as distinguished from pictures of
personal or social life or public and individual tendencies,
— can strongly attract those readers only who have some
special knowledge of or interest in the subjects discussed,
whatever may be the interest of the plot or the iudividuality of the characters. In general, novels that are in any
way specialized, whether because the topics handled are
necessarily limited, or because the mode of handling is not
adapted to the habits and tastes of men of ordinary culture, must necessarily be reserved for a limited class of
readers.
No man in his senses would aspire to read all the novels, or even the majority of the novels that are written
and published. It is within the limits of possibility that
a person who should restrict himself to this kind of reading, and should devote to it say six or eight hours a day,
and allow himself no respite for sickness or holidays,
might, in a certain sense, read the most of the novels that
are now published in the English language. But who
would desire to do this? Who would not refuse the task
-with disgust and revulsion if it should, be imposed upon
i'




226             Bookls and Reading.        [CIAP. XV.
him? Most persons would rebel for higher reasons than
because the occupation would be a task. The task itself
would be most ungrateful. To be forced to occupy one's
mind with feeble or extravagant portraitures of scenes
and incidents, with inadequate or distorted delineations of
character, with false and repulsive conceptions of honor,
duty, and life; to give one's self up for the waking
hours of every day to the control of the depraved or frivolous taste or the prurient imagination of now a weak and
then a strong but corrupt nature, should be esteemed an
intolerable bondage. No man with a moderate endowment
of human feeling or manly spirit could endure it long.
There is a show of reason why the reader of history should
feel obliged to read many histories which he would prefer
to leave unread, or why a philosopher or critic must read
many weak and illogical treatises that give very poor returns of thought. But a poor novel is very poor and unsatisfying. It is not only so weak as to sicken, but it is
so offensive as to disgust the man who has any positive
tastes which he cherishes, or who sets much value upon
his time. We might add in the case of many, by any
man who has any regard for his reputation; for the man
or the woman who systematically dawdles away his or her
time over a succession of third or fourth rate novels, weak
in imagination and doubtful in morality, deserves a very
low place in the estimate of people whose good opinion is
worth regarding. There is no description of filth that is
so filthy or so tenacious as that which comes from handling
an equivocal or obscene novel. A white-gloved hand is
for ever soiled by a smutch that cannot be drawn off with
the glove, if seen to hold a low-lived and trashy tale, such
as many a fashionable miss and pretentious coxcomb are
known to handle.
If we cannot and would not read all the novels that are
published, we should read the best. What the best are, it




C1IAP. XV.]   Novels and Novel-Reading.          227
is not always easy to decide. The novel which is the best
for the child is not the best for the youth; the best for the
youth is not the best for the man; the best for one man is
not the best for another. The child and the youth, as we
have seen, delight in the objective novel-the novel of incident-above the novel of character. By the same rule,
the man of introverted and reflective tastes not only prefers
the novel of character, but requires that the characters
delineated should themselves be of the speculative and introverted cast, and that the plot and dialogue should turn
upon some recondite theme, or illustrate some important
speculative truth. The tastes of men in respect to the
novels which they prefer are as various as their tastes in
dress, in manners, and in companions. The only limits
under which this rule can be safely and wisely applied, are
that every man should have tastes which he can safely follow, and that he should know what his tastes actually are;
and that, having tastes that are not evil, and knowing
them well, he should have the courage to consult and follow
them, despite the rigors of conventionality and fashion.
Every man has his moods as well as his tastes. The
novel that is fitted for one mood is not suited for another.
If simple amusement or relaxation is required, a novel may
be just the book for a man who would not care to read it
at a time when his aims were higher and more severe. If
instruction is required, the -novel may be tolerated which
would not satisfy if it were required to amuse, elevate, or
enrich the imagination. A novel may be good for traveling, which it is scarcely worth while for a busy or earnest
person to read at home. A reader of independent and
liberal spirit would also carefully avoid giving himself
up to the control of any single novelist. While every
reader ought, on the one hand to be select in his reading of
fiction, he should shun being so select as to limit his reading to a single writer, even though by general consent the




228              Books and Reading.          [CHAP. XV.
writer should be pronounced the best. At least it should
be required that the author be the best for him, by his fitness to his individual habits and tastes,. and even to his
prevailing moods. The reasons for this rule are two. No
class of writers, except perhaps the poet, can diffuse himself
so completely into his writings as the novelist, and can do
it so insensibly to the reader. The reader may seem to
find nothing but a description of scenery, or a picture of
domestic life, or a delineation of a person, or the record of
conversations or the development of a plot. All these elements may be so skillfully woven together, and mnay stand
out so prominently from the canvass, as to give the impression of objective reality. The whole may be finished with
the careful minuteness of Gerard Dow, or with the defiant
boldness of Rubens, and still the picture, whether of nature,
man, or human life, will be the picture as seen by the novelist's eyes and reflected in the novelist's mind, and it is
through his eyes and his mind that we must look at it, if
we see it at all. Or he seems to open to our inspection the
workings of a highly individualized character in extraordinary circumstances of trial and perplexity, like Morton in
Old Mortality, or Becky Sharp in Vanity Fair, or Oliver
Twist as described by Dickens, or Jane Eyre by Charlotte
Bronte, or Mary Barton by Mrs. Gaskell, or Dinah in
Adam  Bede, or the preacher of Salem Chapel by Mrs.
Olyphant.  All that we seem at first view to see is the individual skillfully described; at the second view we discern, perhaps, that this seeming individual is also a representative human being, combined and created by the dexterous hand of the artist, working after the nice observation
of the artist's eye. It is not often that we take a third observation, and discern that it is some representative man,
not merely as discerned by the dispassionate eye, but as
judged by the principles and colored by the feelings, and
distorted, it may be, by the prejudices of the writer.




CHAP. xv.]    Novels and Novel-Reading.            229
Thackeray, and Dickens, and Miss Bronte, and George
Eliot have each a private practical philosophy of their own,
even though it is unconsciously held, according to which
they must construct all the types of human nature which
they draw. It would have been morally impossible that
either should conceive or portray the characters depicted by
the other. This practical philosophy of life, this creed concerning the ends of human excellence, and the ideal of
human perfection, is that which sweetens or sours many
superior novels, and causes them to emit the aroma of
health and life or the poison of disease and death.
Again, second-no class of writers exercises so complete
control over their readers as novelists do. This control
reaches. to their opinions and prejudices, if it does not insensibly control and reshape their entire philosophy of
duty and of life. The fascination which they exercise becomes of itself a spell. No enchantment is so entire and
delightful as-that with which they invest the story which
they recite. It is a very glamour which they pour not
only over the scenes which they depict, but over the senses
of the beholder.  With this enchantment and fascination
come the ready and even the forward acceptance of their
practical philosophy, and even of their accidental prejudices. A favorite novelist becomes, for the time being,
often more to his enamored and enchanted reader than
preacher, teacher, or friend, and indeed than the whole
world besides, casting a spell over his judgments, moulding
his principles, forming his associations, and recasting his
prejudices. The entranced and admiring reader runs to his
favorite when he can snatch an hour from labor, society,
or sleep. He broods over his scenes and characters when
alone, he quotes from him as often as he dare, he cites proverbs and favorite phrases from his leading personages.
He even aspires to be familiar with his slang and his cant.
He warms with incensed ardor if his reputation is attacked.




230             Books and Reading.           [CsaP. XV.
HIe defends him if he is criticised or unfavorably judged.
He is impatient if another is preferred to him. The partisan of Thackeray and Dickens is always ready to couch a
lance for his favorite.
Indeed we may go further, and say that the devoted
reader of a favorite novelist often becomes for the time an
unconscious imitator or a passive reflex of his author. Like
the chameleon, he takes the color of the bough and leaf
from which he feeds. I-e is more likely to absorb and reproduce his defects than his excellences. The admiring and
passionate devotee of Dickens is in danger of copying his
broad caricature, his not very elevated or elevating slang,
and the free and easy swing of the society in which Mr.
Dickens delights. On the other hand, the intellectual and
high-toned devotee of Thackeray is likely to be not a little
satirical, suspicious, and dissatisfied; to affect the nil admirari and the air of one who is compelled to live in a world
of which he has already seen the hollowness, and for which
he is a little too good. The admiring students of George
Eliot take a pensive view of our human life, sympathize
hopelessly with its sorrows and its tragedies, and above all,
with its moral enigmas, seeing for it no redemption and no
hope. "They are as sad as night only for wantonness."
Their burden is, the times are out of joint —oh cursed spite,
that we were ever born to set them right Charles Kingsley's readers, on the other hand, are ready to set everything
right by the force of muscle and pluck, of bravado and faith.
The admirer of the witty O. XV. Holmes is crisp, Voltairish,
and satirical.  The devotee of Hawthorne is unrelenting
in certain moody prejudices, Epicurean in his tastes and aspirations, and dreamy and uncertain in his theory of this life
and the next. The admirer of Mrs. Stowe is generous,
rash, one-sided and positive, and given to a variety of overdoing. So complete a subjection to a single novelist, even
for a limited time, is not desirable, because its tendency is




ciaP. xv.]     Novels and N~ovel-Reading.           231
to make us one-sided and unnatural.  For the same reason
we should not confine ourselves entirely to current and
contemporary novels. Strong as is the temptation to do this,
by reason of the greater freshness of the novel for our own
times, this temptation should sometimes be overcome, if for
no other reason than to give the reader a wide range of
vision, and to bring him back to his favorites of the passing
hour with a fresher eye and a less partial judgment.
Nor should novels constitute our sole reading. The
temptation is strong to make them so, especially with young
persons, and those who are responsible only to themselves
for the use or abuse of their time.  It is not easy to turn to
a history or scientific essay when an attractive novel is lying
by its side, particularly for one to whom novel-reading is
new. There -is no fascination connected with reading to be
compared with that experienced in youth from the first few
novels. The spell-bound reader soon discovers, however,
that this appetite, like that for confectionery and other sweets,
is the soonest cloyed, and that if pampered too long it enfeebles the appetite for all other food. The reader of novels
only, especially if he reads many, becomes very soon an intellectual voluptuary, with feeble judgment, a vague memory,
and an incessant craving for some new excitement. It is
rare that a reader of this class studies the novels which he
seems to read. He knows and cares little for the novel of
character as contrasted with the novel of incident.  He reads
for the story as he says, and it usually happens that the
sensational and extravagant, the piquant and equivocal
stories are those which please him  best.  Exclusive and
excessive novel reading is to the mind as a kind of intellectual opium eating, in its stimulant effects upon the phantasy and its stupifying and bewildering influence on the
judgment. An inveterate novel-reader speedily becomes a
literary rout, and this is possible at a very early period of
life. It now and then happens that a youth of seventeen




232              Books and Reading.           [CHAP. XV.
becomes almost an intellectual idiot or an effeminate weakling by living exclusively upon the enfeebling swash or
the poisoned stimulants that are sold so readily under the
title of tales and novels. An apprenticeship at a reform
school in literature, with a spare diet of statistics, and a hard
bed of mathematical problems, and the simple beverage of
plain narrative, is much needed for the recovery of such
inane and half-demented mortals.
Why, then, it may be asked, should we read novels at
all? Why not set them aside altogether, especially as the
quantity of light literature of other descriptions is so great,
and the quality of it is constantly improving? These questions are certainly fair questions, and merit answers as explicit and as fair.  We have to answer first: The reading
of fiction furnishes a kind of amusement and relaxation
which no other reading can give. There can be no question that this description of " feigned history serveth
and conferreth to delectation."  No intellectual enjoyment
is so delightful as this. [No withdrawment from  one's
customary occupations and associations is so complete as
that which a good novel effects; no breaking up of the.cares and the sorrows, of the weariness and the fears of the
ordinary life is so entire as that which an absorption in
its scenes and an interest in its personages so easily accomplishes. That this indulgence is attended with special dangers and peculiar temptations we cannot deny; but that the
amusement and relaxation are innocent and desirable,
every rational man will acknowledge.  Many of the
bravest workers for God and man have found this sort of
relaxation to be the most complete, and have used it with
the happiest results. Why it should be so is not difficult to discern. Do we delight in a vacant hour to survey
a quiet nook, a placid river, a luxuriant valley, or an ample and varied panorama? We open a novel, and one scene
after another rises before the mental vision more rapidly




CHAP. XV.]    Novels and Novel-Reading.            233
and in quicker succession than any which nature can present. Does it rest the brain because it amuses the mind
to gaze upon a crowded street, and to watch the motley
and brilliant succession of the passers-by? But over the pictured page of animated fiction, one group follows after
another of men and women, of children and youth, in
country and town, crushing and jostling in the alleys and
thoroughfares of the city, lounging upon the open lawn, or
sauntering along the shaded lanes of the country. Tournaments, races, hunting courses, fishing parties, rushing
cavalry, marching infantry, gangs of robbers, stealthy assassins, a cavalcade of knights, a tribe of Bedouins, a gang
of gipsies, a band of pirates, pass and repass in swift succession before the mind's eye. Does it refresh because it
excites us in a new direction to tell and hear the news of
our neighbors, or of the last fire, shipwreck, or battle?
But it refreshes us more, because it excites us less painfully, to follow the fortunes of a few imaginary beings with
whom the novelist acquaints us completely, and in whom
he contrives to interest us profoundly, —as they pass from
sunlight to shade, and from shade to sunlight, till, in our
anxious or our curious sympathy for them, we lose for the
hour all thought and care even for our personal joys and
sorrows.
The novel instructs as well as amuses the reader, and it
instructs him by methods and in directions in which no
other reading can. It instructs him in History, as has
already been explained in our remarks upon the historical
novel. It instructs him in respect to scenery as no traveler
ever does, and as few travelers would dare to attempt.
The pictures of the oriental plain, jungle, and forest; of
the Irish bog, pass, and shieling; of the Scottish heath,
loch, and manse, and of the English lawn, cottage, and
rectory; of hedge-rows and oak vistas, of clumps of yew
and game preserves; of the American prairie, forest, and




231              Books and Readinlg.       [CHAP. XV.
the settler's clearing and log cabin; of the Southern negro
quarters, rich fields, and hunting grounds, which we find
in countless novels, are invaluable as substitutes for views
of those scenes which we cannot receive by the eye, and as
reminders of those which we have actually seen. No man
with a moderate amount of curiosity can well afford to dispense with such pictures. The cultivated person whose
curiosity has not yet been awakened, may need, most of
all, that this curiosity should be excited in ways which,
and for ends in respect to which, there can be no substitute
for the novel.
The novel instructs in respect to the domestic and social
life of other countries, or grades of life in our own country
to which few readers can have direct access, and fewer, if
they have such access, can observe and judge of fully.
The reader of Scott and Wilson, of Hogg and Macdonald,
learns to understand and to sympathize with Scottish life
and manners, and to appreciate the Scottish character, as
he could not possibly do in any other method. In a
similar way Lever and Lover have made it possible for us
to understand Ireland and the Irish, in their blunders and
their genius; their frugality and their improvidence; their
wit and their folly; their beauty and their squalor, on
manifold more sides of their character than any personal
observation or reports of fact or history could qualify us
to know and love them. Bulwer and George Eliot, Mrs.
Gaskell and Trollope, Dickens and Thackeray, enable the
foreigner to understand somewhat of the secret of English
society, with its singular contradictions of conventionality
and independence, of suspicion and confidence, of blandness and gruffness. They even introduce us to the sacred
privacy of the English home, without the doubtful experiment of letters of introduction, or the more questionable
impudence of thrusting open the door. Does not every
English reader of the tales of Miss Bremer and Miss




CHAP. XV.]      Novels and Novel-Readcting.      235
Carlin feel that he owes to them obligations of gratitude
which he cannot repay for the fresh and delightful pictures of Swedish manners and Swedish life with which
their tales abound? Have not Freytag, Tautphceus, and
Auerbach and Spielhagen, done the same for German
life? and have not Balzac, Paul de Kock, George Sand,
Eugene Sue, Alexander Dumas, and Victor Hugo taught
these readers more of the worst side of life in Paris and
in France than it is desirable or healthful for many of
these readers to learn? Of Italian life and manners, Manzoni and Ruffini give us delightful pictures.
That the wise reading of novels is fitted to enlarge our
acquaintance with human nature, and in this way to give
the most valuable instruction, is sufficiently obvious. It
invites, and often compels us to enter into the thoughts
and feelings, and to share in the experiences of men and
women most remote from our personal observation or our
possible acquaintance. It opens to us the heart of the
skeptic in his torments of doubt and his gropings after certainty. It makes us watch the tempted man as he maintains his doubtful step along the narrow and swaying bridge
that overhangs the fearful gulf, or to recoil with horror as
he makes the desperate plunge. It opens to our inspection
the inner being of the condemned. It enables us to overhear the fearful soliloquies of the cell, and the procession
that leads to the scaffold. In manifold methods does it
enlarge our knowledge, enlighten our personal experience,
and widen and make yielding our sympathies. In short,
it lets us into a wide range of human experiences, under the
greatest possible variety of conditions, of excitements, and
of issues. It places at our service the results of the sharp
observation, the subtle analysis, the earnest sympathies, and
the skilful interpretations-of many of the most gifted students of humanity, who present the products of their observation and their skill in a form best fitted to attract the




236           Books and Reading.             [CHAr. V'.
attention of the unreflecting, and to excite the curiosity of
the listless-the form of an exciting and artistic tale. If
the representations are often too extreme and too highly
colored to correspond to the observations and experiences
of fact, and if it may reasonably be objected that for this
reason they are actually misleading as representations of
human nature as it is, it cannot be charged that they misrepresent the ideal possibilities of human nature; that they
either overpaint human nature as it is desirable it should
be in its good, or degrade its evil lower than it is conceivable it should sink. If either happen, it does not follow
that the most important results of substantial truths are not
attained. If stronger impressions concerning the evil or
the good of human nature are thereby achieved than could
possibly be reached in any other way, then the mind is
taught the most essential truth, while the imagination is
enriched in respect to the range and variety of conceivable
or ideal human experiences.
The objection may sometimes hold good against novels
of incident, that they excite mischievous expectations of extraordinary turns of fortune, and beget, even ill sober and
sensible people, a romantic and dreamy habit of mind in
respect to the chances of success in life, and the conditions
by which it is to be achieved. Nothing too severe can be
said against the mischievous influence of a certain class of
so-called romantic stories upon uncertain, shuffling, indolent, and brooding sort of people, with feeble energies and
strong self-indulgence. It is not such novels that we commend, but novels of character. A similar objection might
be urged against the influence of novels of the latter class
-that they encourage extravagant views of what a person
may become in character, or of what he may demand of his
associates or expect from his fellow-men. If such a tendency should now and then be observed, we may set off
against it the very desirable and elevating influence in the




CHAP. xv.j  Aovels and Nvovel-ReaJing.           237
other direction, which comes from elevated ideals of character in ourselves and in others. If our conceptions of
character be correct as to their principles or elements, they
cannot be too elevated or noble in the scale after which
they are adjusted. They should be human and practical
and ethical and Christian, but they cannot be too unselfish
or aspiring. The sordid, the mean, and the prosaic; the
selfish, the trickish, and the bullying; the uncultivated, the
sensual, and the vile, are already so rampant and unblushing in our religion, our politics, our literature, and our
society, that there is little danger from excess in literature
in the direction of the nobly romantic and the ideal. Whatever fiction can contribute to quicken and elevate the imagination, so far as its ideals and estimates of character are
concerned, is only actual and positive gain to the sum of
good influences; and it is a gain of a kind which cannot
easily be spared.
It is not a trivial advantage of the novel reading of our
day that it suggests elevated and quickening topics for conversation. This advantage is not a trivial one, when we
reflect that conversation too readily degenerates into gossiping personalities or unmeaning twaddle about the
weather, or the last insignificant occurrence that happens
to interest any person present. For young persons especially it is of no little service to have topics at hand that
are fruitful of thought, that awaken.a warm interest and
call out positive opinions. The last new novel is suggestive in all these directions. It stimulates to the analysis
of its characters and the criticism of its plot, and calls out
likings and dislikings, which the holders of either are forward to assert and defend. These opinionS, and the reasons by which they are defended, invariably turn upon the
observations of actual life, characters and manner which the
parties may have made, and in this way stimulate to activity of thought and independence of judgment. Even if




238             Books and R:eading.          [CHAP. xv.
the novel is second-rate, the incidents unnatural, and the
characters extravagant, the effect of discussing these is
usually. good. NTovel-reading is a powerful educating influence in whatever aspect it is regarded, and though it
may often educate to evil, its power to stimulate from barrenness and frivolity should never be overlooked.
Having already answered the two questions, what novels
we should read, and why, it may not be amiss to inquire
how we should read them.  What we have already said
upon the general topic of how we ought to read all books,
will apply with pre-eminent propriety to the reading of
novels, because there is no description of reading in which
there is greater exposure to the worst of habits. Coleridge
has pungently enough described these habits: " As to the
devotees of circulating libraries, I dare not compliment
their pass-time, or rather kill-time, with the name of readiztg. Call it rather a sort of beggarly day-dreaming, during which the mind of the dreamer furnishes for itself
nothing but laziness and a little mawkish sensibility, while
the whole mate'riel and imagery of the dose is supplied ab
extra by a sort of mental camera obscura mannfactured at
the printing-office, which pro tempore fixes, reflects, and
transmits the moving phantasms of one's own delirium, so
as to people the barrenness of an hundred other brains
afflicted with the same trance or suspension of all common
sense and all definite purpose. We should, therefore, transfer this species of amusement.... from the genus reading to that comprehensive class characterized by the power
of contrary, yet coexisting, propensities of human nature,
namely, indulgence of sloth and hatred of vacancy. In
addition to novels and tales of chivalry in prose or rhyme
(by which last I mean neither rhythm nor metre) this genus
comprises as its species, gaming, swinging or swaying on a
chain or gate, spitting over a bridge, smoking, snuff-taking,
tOte-a-tete quarrels after dinner between husband and wife,




CHAP. xv.]    Yovels and Novel-Reading.          239
conning, word by word, all the advertisements of the daily
advertiser in a public-house on a rainy day, etc., etc."
These remarks are pointed and explicit as to how not to
read novels, and the reader can very easily infer by the rule
of contraries how to read them.
They also forciibiy suggest the inquiries-" What is the
method after which children read the majority of the books
called tales and stories, which make up so large a share of
juvenile and Sunday-school libraries?  What is the average value of the great mass of'juvenile' books which are
prepared by the score every month to quicken the intellect
and elevate the imaginations of the rising generation?
Are not the most of these books eminently juvenile in the
greenness and crudeness of their authors as well as of their
work?"




CHAPTER XVI.
POETRY AND POETS.
WHAT is Poetry?  We ask this question, because in
order wisely to select the poetry which we read, as well as
to read with intelligence and sympathy that which we select, we need to know what poetry is; so far at least as to
be able to discriminate the real from the factitious and the
counterfeit. But to answer our question we do not need to
construct or defend an elaborate theory of poetry. iNor need
we study and criticise the several theories which have been
proposed, from Aristotle and Horace, down to Matthew
Arnold and F. W. Newman. We may be satisfied to adhere to the definition of Lord Bacon, that poetry is a species
of feigned history. Every description of poetry may with
no great violence be brought under this comprehensive
definition. Narrative poetry of every sort, from the stately
epic of the ancients down to the familiar tale of the modern
bard-from  the Iliad to Aurora Leigh-will easily be
classed as history. This feigned history must indeed also
have a human interest. Every descriptive poem, even if it
set forth some objective scene, supposes this human interest;
even though it only concerns the single human being who
is the looker-on, and out of whose experience have sprung
the feelings with which he colors, and the ends for which
he constructs the picture, of which nature furnishes the materials. Beneath every sonnet of Wordsworth, and every
description of Browning, there lies a chapter of human history. The Lyric in every one of its varied forms, from the
loftiest ode to the most trivial love-song, is the breaking
240




CHAP. xvI.]      Poetry and Poets.               241
forth in verse-suited to song-of the feelings of some
human soul, under the circumstances of some real or supposed personal history; and these must be known or supplied by the reader, to enable him to understand and appreciate the ode or the song. The meditative and the moralizing, the didactic and the satirical, cease to be poetry and
become prosaic and heavy, the moment that there falls out
of either some form of human life, enacted or conceived.
Every drama is eminently a story-a story acted and not
alone described; dramatica poesis ist veluti spectabilis —
a story in which the parties are made to live again before
the eyes of the reader or hearer, to speak their own thoughts
and to pour forth their impassioned utterances, as they
seem to be freshly excited by the deeds and words that are
produced upon the pictured stage, or upon the written page
which the imagination.dresses up as a mimic theatre.
But not every feigned history is poetry, else every novel
were a poem. Poetry is feigned history in verse. The
feigned story whether it is narrated or suggested, must be
told in verse; i. e., in measured and rhythmical language.
We are accustomed to call verse an artificial structure; in
contrast with prose, as more natural and obvious. If it
has become artificial in our less excited and more critical
modes of existence and action, it certainly was not so originally, in the earliest times, when the most literal truth was
framed into a poem under the excitement of love and admiration, and was set forth with measure and cadence from
the lips of sages and bards. Then the prophet, the lawgiver, and the historian were also poets. Admonitions to
duty, and rules of living, and the records of the past, were
all committed to some rude or measured form of verse, out
of which now and then the flashing war-song would gleam
as the lightning, or along which the pean would thunder
in triumph. Whether this preference of verse in the earlier
days is owing to the predominance of imagination and feel16




212              Books and Reading.           [CHaP. XVI.
ing, or to the greater convenience which verse affords to
the memory when its effect depends not upon what is written
for the eye, but upon what is heard by the ear, the fact is
unquestioned, that the earliest compositions take the form
of verse. We know also that to the individual man in the
dawn of intelligence, verse is far more pleasing and easy to
be retained than prose. The ditty with its readily recurring refrain, the song that suits the simplest air, are forms of
composition which are most pleasing to infancy. Whether
it be more natural in the earlier ages to compose in verse
than in prose, we will not inquire. Whliether with the
poetical modes of conception which are natural at that
period, in the forms of affluent imagery and elevated feeling,
there springs up for man's use a fit medium of expression
in " the gift of numerous verse," we need not ask.  We are
forced to confess that this gift is not universal when literary
culture is refined and matured. As, in this condition, man
finds it less easy to write in verse than in prose, so he reserves for this form of writing his choicest thoughts and his
best emotions. The constraints of verse also compel a selection in the words employed and a special nicety in their
arrangemient and combinations.  Hence he is insensibly led
to require as fit for verse, sentiments that are rare-usually
that are rare for their nobleness-and emotions that are
uncommon for their elevation, strength, and purity.  So
far Matthew Arnold is in the right when he insists that
there must be something of the grand style in every composition that is truly poetic. This leads the reader or
critic almost instinctively to reject the trivial and the low,
or even the familiar and the homely, as beneath the dignity
of poetry. It was an exaggeration of this feeling that led
so many of the poets of the last century to adopt a peculiar
stilted and factitious poetic dialect as alone suited to the
elievated uses of poetic writing. This diction became by
its traditionary character not only empty of meaning, but




CHAP. XVI.]      Poetry and Poets.               243
was followed by the double evil of repressing that freshness
and individuality of language which are indispensable to
poetic power and freedom, and of appearing as a substitute
for thoughts and feelings which were in no sense poetic.
Against this Thomson and Cowper entered their practical
protest, by refusing to conform to the rule and example of
their times, and Wordsworth set up the theory of poetic
diction which gave so much offence and aroused so warm a
controversy. Moreover, the oft-recurring pauses and turns
of verse do not admit protracted or complicated arguments,
refined abstractions, or a philosophical terminology. Hence
there grows up the sentiment and the demand that everything which is fit for verse should be simple in phrase,
should be lively with imagery, and be readily followed by
the common mind.
- For this reason offence is taken at metaphysical discussions, protracted  reflections, labored conversations, and
even elaborate descriptions, as unsuited to poetry. Hence
the reasonableness of those criticisms and complaints which
are often unreasonably urged against Milton, Wordsworth,
Tennyson, and the Brownings, that they are abstract,
metaphysical, over-refined, and difficult to read.
Simplicity, however, is neither silliness nor commonplace; it does not exclude the extremest subtlety of thought
nor the most delicate refinement of feeling, but its rule
demands that the poetic diction should be direct, brief, and
easily followed. In this way, out of the very exigencies
which the use of verse prescribes, do we derive the usuallyaccepted characteristics of poetic thought and expression.
These characteristics we often find abundant and conspicuous in prose-writing. In such cases we say truly, and
with an intelligible meaning, this or that passage is highly
poetic. We call Jeremy Taylor the Shakspeare of Divinity.  We say that Milton in his prose writings surpasses
himself as a poet. We are amazed at the bewildering




244              Books and Reading.        [CHAP. XVI.
beauty of many a magnificent passage in Coleridge's prose.
We say of this or that person of our acquaintance, he has
a highly poetic mind, simply because his thoughts and emotions are intensely ideal and imaginative, even though
he may never have written a line of verse, or even may be
unpractised in any form of written composition.
We ought also to add, as pertaining solely to the matter
of poetry, that it deals chiefly with those thoughts and
sentiments which are universal to the race, as distinguished
from those which are in any sense limited or conventional.
The poet speaks to the heart of man as man; and he must,
therefore, speak from his own heart as that of a man; uttering only those thoughts and sentiments to which all
other men will respond, and leaving unexpressed much
that is peculiar to his race, his time, his civilization, or
even his religion, except so far as this answers to what is
common to the race, the time, the civilization, and the religion of another, and thus addresses the intelligence and
enlists the sympathies of all human kind. The truth with
which the poet deals is common and universal, in the sense
-of being accessible to all men who have attained that degree of culture and of thought which is supposed in the
use of the simple diction that poetry requires. It is, moreover, truth in an attractive form,-that truth which is
worthy to be draped with the "singing robes" of poesy.
Pleasure as truly as reflection, delight as truly as impression, are ends which poetry may never lose sight of. The
measured cadences which soothe or excite the ear, the flowing diction which is rippled with sparkling imagery, are
all unsuited to any truth but that which pleases by its intelligibleness, its weight, its liveliness, and its emotional
attractions. "Poetry," says Wordsworth, "is the breath and
finer spirit of all knowledge; it is the impassioned expression which is in the countenance of all science; emphatically may it be said of the poet, as Shakspeare hath said




cHAP. XVI.]       Poetry and Poets.              245
of man,'he looks before and after.' He is the rock of
defence for human nature; an upholder and preserver, carrying everywhere with him relationship and love. In
spite of difference of soil and climate, of language and manners, of laws and customs; in spite of things silently gone
out of mind, and things violently destroyed, the poet binds
together by passion and knowledge the vast empire of human society, as it is spread over the whole earth and over
all time."  "Poetry," says Matthew Arnold, in memorable words, "is simply the most beautiful, impressive and
widely effective mode of saying things and hence its importance."
But while the poet must invariably be universal in the
spheres of thought and feeling, he is none the less emphatically an individual in both. Indeed his power and genius
depend entirely upon that intense individuality, which can
set forth that which commands universal intelligence and
sympathy in the form and coloring of individualized
thoughts and emotions. Not only must the local coloring
of his own race, nationality, and civilization tinge every
stroke of his pencil, but the private thoughts and feelings
of his individual self must impress themselves upon every
sentiment which he utters and should give direction to every
turn of his language and imagery. Homer is a Greek in
every fibre of his being, and none the less because his
pages move alike the stately Latin, the fierce and moody
Scandinavian, the sentimental German, the reserved Englishman and the talkative Gaul. Isaiah and David are
none the less Hebrew in thought and imagery because their
odes are the fit vehicles to express the praises and prayers
of men of all races and of all times. Shakspeare was
English of Elizabeth's time, and Milton a Puritan of the
times of the Commonwealth, and Dryden a wit of the days
of Charles and William, and yet they speak to the heart of
every nationality. While the universality of the poet re



246             Books and Reading.        [CHAP. xvI.
quires that he should use a language which all can understand, his genius impels him to employ a dialect of his own
which no man can imitate.
The poet, especially the poet of modern times, must reflect the culture of his own generation, and in that form
and degree in which it has affected himself personally; his
own individuality determining very largely the use which
he makes of it. Neither Tennyson nor George Eliot nor
Robert Browning could have written what or as they have
done, in any other than the present generation. The Int
Memoriam, the Spanish Gypsy, the Ring and the Book,
all treat of themes and follow trains of thought which their
authors did not wholly create. Nor could they have imagined these had they not found them existing already in
the minds of multitudes of their countrymen. The socalled Poets of the Lake School-Wordsworth, Coleridge,
Southey and Wilson —found already existing, a readiness to be moved in the direction in which they thought
and wrote, much as they accomplished in giving that direction permanence and force.  They could scarcely have
gained a hearing in the generation previous, however earnestly or boldly they might have striven.  On the other
hand, Tennyson, Browning, and Eliot are no more closely
united by sharing in the thought and feeling of their times,
than they are severed by the pronounced individuality for
which each is distinguished. However closely the Lake
Poets resemble one another in certain common aims, each
individual poet is distinguished by features which are unmistakably his own.
It by no means follows, however, because every poet
must deal with those thoughts and feelings which are common to human nature, and are as universal as the race,
that every poet should be popular in the sense of being
easily understood and passionately loved by men of every
type of thought and every shade or degree of emotion.




CH&P. xvI.]       Poetry and Poets.              247
There are and there ought to be poets for the multitude
and poets for the people, as well as poets who, while they
move the multitude to a certain degree of appreciation and
pleasure in single poems or passages, move the few far
more profoundly in every line which they write. Even
those who are called poets for the multitude-the poets in
whom all men delight-delight the few far more intensely
whose taste has been ripened by culture and has become
more appreciative by critical training.  As culture advances and thought becomes more just and profound, as
society is in a certain sense more artificial and yet comes
nearer tow the simplicity of nature and the frankness of
honesty tempered by love, we may anticipate that poetry
will follow in the line of culture, wherever it can find " an
audience fit though few."  " If the time should ever come
when what is now called science, thus familiarized to man,
should put on, as it were, -a form of flesh and blood, the
poet will lend his divine spirit to aid the transfiguration,
and will welcome the being thus produced, as a dear and
genuine inmate of the household of man."
It follows that a taste for poetry, especially that of the
highest order, is to a great extent. the product of special
culture. It is true, as we have observed, that an ear for
verse and an eye for bold and brilliant imagery are natural
to all men, and that children even in their earliest years
are charmed with any measured refrain that sets forth a
stirring or plaintive story. The "drum  and trumpet"
lyrics of Macaulay suit the martial bravado of the storming boy. By and by the pictured tales of Scott will enchant his fancy while his ready ear responds to the rapid
lines that hurry the attention along by the simple rush of
their own movement. Gentler ballads of olden times, of
deserted children and ladies sore oppressed or captured and
immured by giant or robber,-plaintive tales of the Edwins and Angelinas of later days, delight the ear and move




248             Books and RBeading.        [CHAP. XVI.
the heart of the little maiden, in whom the poetic sense
begins to stir and flutter. This is the period for reading
and for learning verses of all sorts, both ballads and
hymns, provided the ballads and hymns are fraught with
poetic feeling and imagery. Much of the stuff which passes
for poetry with young folks, and their parents also, should
be carefully shunned. Its rhythm is jingle, its words
are strained, its pictures are hazy, its sentiment is silly.
But if the imagery be sharp and bold, the diction concise
and strong, the measure be smooth and sweet, and the
sentiments manly, tender and correct, then the more that
is learned the better. It were not amiss if books of
ancient ballads were studiously sought for and learned
by heart, and by this means the leading scenes and personages of English history were permanently fixed in the
mind. There are not a few boys who are capable of enjoying the Iliad in a translation, and scarcely one who
might not be trained to delight in Scott long before it is
dreamed that they can relish poetry. Certainly such reading is greatly to be preferred to the rubbish of the sensation
novels, whether moral or otherwise, with which now-a-days
the appetites of so many are weakened or debauched.
But this early relish for poetic tales scarcely deserves to
be called a taste for poetry. That which is really such,
supposes a nicety of eye, a reflecting habit, and, above all,
a delicacy of feeling which are not native to impetuous
and objective childhood-least of all to boyhood, after the
gentleness of infancy has entirely given way to the storming and outward life of school and the play-ground. It is
not unfrequently observed that the sister who is younger
by many years than her older brother has developed a
taste for poetry long before he has dreamed of such an experience. Perhaps she is forced to endure his ill-suppressed contempt that she is growing sentimental, because
she begins to delight in Cowper or Milton while as yet




CHAP. XVI.]      Poetry and Poets.               249
he finds no interest in either. The reason is obvious.
The girl begins to reflect sooner than the boy, and sooner
finds in the poet whose verse detains her ear some transcript
of an observation of nature without, or of the heart of man
within,-such as she herself may have made, only the poet
has expressed them so much more fully and successfully
than she could have dreamed were possible. Or, it may
be, some romantic preference may have called into life the
latent poesy of her nature, and to her girlish enthusiasm
nature has suddenly become flushed with a roseate light,
and man himself transfigured with idealized perfections.
However it may come, and whether sooner or later, the
day is memorable to boy or maid when he or she begins
to read genuine poetry with interest, not for the tale, nor
the verse, but for the transcript which he finds of what he
himself has seen, or felt, or thought. Should perchance a
sensitive and thoughtful boy find a volume of Cowper
opened at the Winter Evening, or the Winter Walk at
Noon, and, caught by some striking line, read on till what
he has seen in nature or observed in life should seem
imaged as in a mirror, there is awakened within him a
new sense, and he has found a treasure of enjoyment of
which he had never dreamed. Or let Whittier's Snow
Bound be effectively read of an evening to a family circle.
The listless boy or romping girl sits impatiently and
wishes the hateful task were over which defers a promised
sport, when all at once some striking scene from life starts
into view, and the recognition is waked as in a moment,'that I have seen and felt myself.' Such a sense may be
gradually quickened and developed under the readings of
the school in a well-selected class-book, or be suddenly
called forth by some impressive recitation of descriptive or
impassioned poesy.
Such a taste is not, of course, matured because it has
sprung into being. It is simply an awakened capacity of




250              Books and Reading.           [CHAP. XVI.
feeling which needs the direction of the judgment. Its
very freshness and strength may be the more misleading,
if its impulses alone are consulted. It may, through perverseness and conceit, remain what it was at the outset,
crude, coarse, and confident, or weak, silly, and sentimental.
It may even be degenerate in its judgments, and teach itself to prefer rant to inspiration, or weak bombast to solid
brilliancy, provided it refuses to defer to the guidance of
others or blindly gives itself up to the influence of the
single author who first waked its poetic feeling into life.
Poetic sensibility is not poetic taste, however frequently
the one is mistaken for the other. The capacity to be
pleasantly affected by poetic composition, and even the
capacity for a high degree of excitement under its influence, may coexist with a perverted taste and a misguided
judgment in respect to the comparative merits of an author,
and an almost entire absence of any just conception of
what constitutes poetry. It is a rash conclusion which not
a few admit, that because the end of poetry is pleasure,
therefore all writing in verse which pleases must of course
be poetry; or, this or that composition does not please, and
therefore it is not poetry. Yielding to this hasty inference, not a few young persons never rise above the first
favorite author; who was well enough fitted to awaken
the earliest romance of youthful feeling, but should long
ago have given place to writers of a higher tone in sentiment and diction. Or, not pursuing poetic studies, they
judge of poetry by the depreciating estimate which in later
years they form of the authors that once enraptured but
now disappoint or disgust them. Or if asked to read a
poet of superior grade, and they fail to find the excitement
of their youthful readings, they conclude either that there
are no poets like their early favorites, or that poetry itself
has become one of the lost arts, and is fast dying out
from the world.




CHAP. xvr.]       Poetry and Poets.               251
We may not then judge of poetry by our earliest likings
or our first impressions. It were as reasonable to judge of
color and form  in nature and art, by the crudest impressions of childhood. The coarsest tints, the most flauntingg
hues, as well as hideous forms and violent contrasts should
be approved, because they attract and please the uninstructed eye. This is so far from being true, that "an accurate taste in poetry, and in all the other arts, as Sir
Joshua Reynolds has observed, is an acquired talent which
can only be produced by thought and a long-continued
intercourse with the best models of composition." We
should therefore begin our reading of poetry, or should
direct the reading of others, just as we should begin the
cultivation of the eye or the ear in drawing or in music,
with the distinct expectation that our capacity to feel and
to judge is to grow more correct and become more refined
by what it feeds on. We should indeed not disdain what
pleases us at first by idly imagining that we ought to enjoy
something higher. As for the pretence that we enjoy and
comprehend what we neither understand nor love, we
should shun it as a paltry affectation, if not as a mean dishonesty. But we should expect that our taste is to be elevated and refined, as we exercise it wisely and lovingly
upon what the advice of others may recommend, and as we
strive at times to see beauty and finish in writers who at
first neither excite nor overwhelm us. No spirit is so hostile to progress in any of the finer studies or the nobler arts
as the spirit of satisfaction and conceit with present ideals
of perfection, or as an obstinate unreadiness to open the
mind to those which are higher and nobler. With this
precaution, we may use the liberty of selecting our poets
according to our present tastes, and, if we select for others,
according to their prevailing tastes and capacities.'We
should not force upon ourselves, least of all should we force
upon others, the works of poets whom we or they do not




252             Books and Reading.        [tCHAP. XVI.
fancy, and whom we or they by any effort cannot learn to
enjoy. This is especially true of poetic reading, because
enjoyment and sympathy and heartiness are its very atmosphere and life. The miss who delights in Mrs. Hemans
or Miss Landon, and can find neither meaning nor music
in Coleridge, Jean Ingelow, or Tennyson, may be let alone
for a while, in the hope that perhaps her taste may ripen,
and in becoming mature may be changed. The objective
youth, whose ear is captivated with the ring of Byron's
verse and the boldness of his passion, should not be
crammed with Wordsworth or Tennyson. Whittier and
Longfellow are better for many a reader, at a certain stage
of their culture and taste, than Bryant or Dana. As age
advances and reflection matures, as the ear becomes more
delicate, the sensibility to choice and pure words is more
refined, and the choice of imagery is more wisely and honestly more fastidious, the old and familiar poets will disclose new beauties, and poets before unappreciated will be
understood and enjoyed. With this progress in the tastes,
there will be some change in our favorite poets, or at least
in the reasons why our favorite poets are loved.
We have already sought to illustrate the truth, that although the poet should recognize that which is common to
the race, and which in a certain sense attracts the sympathies of all men, he may also reflect the thoughts and feelings which are distinctly recognized by men in peculiar
circumstances or of special experiences. Tennyson's In
iiemoriam speaks to the heart of man as man; yet it is only
the man of the present century, who is acquainted with the
speculations of the time and has been staggered by its
doubts and misgivings, who can fully appreciate thousands
of its masterly strokes and its delicate suggestions.  The
Princess of the same author, and the Aurora Leigh of Mrs.
Browning, can be adequately enjoyed only by one who has
read much and thought deeply on the social problems of




CHAP. XVI.]       Poetry and Poets.               253
the time. But it is none the less true that the poetry is
genuine and excellent for all. Shakspeare and Milton,
and even Burns and Cowper, contain many passages of
which only the man of much reading and of grave reflection can adequately estimate the meaning or enjoy the subtle flavor. It is most unjust to say of the works of Wordsworth and Tennyson, of Browning and Eliot, or of the
passages of Shakspeare and Milton referred to, that they
are not poetry, because they are not understood by men of
all classes and in all stages of culture and thought. The
mature and refined thought of an age of daring speculation,
and the subtle emotions which spring out of its life of
doubt and faith, of fear and hope, may properly be reflected
in its poetry, Poetry should never be technical or select,
in the sense of using the language of a coterie or a school,
but it may express the feelings and thoughts that are produced by an age or a generation of special culture and special conflicts.
It is implied in all these hints and rules that poetry, to
be fully appreciated and enjoyed, must be earnestly and
perseveringly studied. This may seem to many like an
obvious and a startling paradox.  How can that which is
chiefly designed for pleasure require study, which is universally associated with painful effort?  We reply: a poem
must be studied for the same reasons and in the same way
that a painting, an engraving, or a drawing must be studied,
in order that the refinement of its perfection may be revealed. If the poet has a soul that is "finely touched"
it is "to fine issues;" and in order that he should be adequately estimated and judged, he requires a soul akin to his
own, a soul in some sense as fine to receive as his is fine to
give. How shall one sing joyous songs to him who is of
a heavy heart? By this same rule, let the poet's imagination be ever so fertile and refined, how can it create
for the reader who cannot -ecreate after him at his suggest



2544              Books and Reading.          [CIIAP. xvr.
ing words? What are the words that speak his thoughts
or feelings if the reader does not translate them into meaning by his own answering thoughts and feelings? To require that the poet should inject his thoughts into a lazy
intellect, or kindle emotions in a torpid or stupid heart, is
to insult his very name and office. If the priest should
not be allowed to approach the altar except with unspotted
robes, and after many lustrations, let not the worshiper
enter the sanctuary with soiled feet and careless tread.
When it ig fit to inspect a choice engraving w_,th careless
eye and divided attention, or to handle a Sevres vase or an
exquisite chasing with a rough hand and a heedless grasp,
then shall it be seemly to read the choicest works of a poet's
inspiration and a poet's ear with a dawdling nonchalance,
or to answer to his thoughts and feelings with energies half
aroused or an attention that is slack or divided.  Many of
the poet's best productions are so subtle as to escape the
notice of any other than a close and fixed attention.
His felicities of thought can only be appreciated by a mind
that concentrates its eye for subtle differences. His images
and allusions, his pictures and emotions, are often the more
beautiful because they do not spring into the eyes of the
reader, whether he will or no. Beauties that are modest
and even shy are often specially attractive in poetry as they
are in life. It is to be remembered, also, that great writers,
and especially poets who are great, are usually wiser than
their readers. They know more of the art in which they
excel than many of their readers or critics. They are often
too proud ostentatiously to display or set off their wares by
rhetorical tours de force. If the genuine poet often require,
he will always Lear study and repay it. That man has a mlcst
dishonorable and unjust conception of poetry and the poet
who regards poetry as valuable only to while away a lazy
or listless hour. If poetry, to be appreciated ahd enjoyed,
must be studied, much more does it require to be studied




CHAP. XVI.]       Poetry and Poets.                255
in order that it may be intelligently criticised.  But the
study is not painful, though it must be faithful; it brings
its abundant and exquisite enjoyments, though it requires
faithful and persevering effort. No luxury of literature is
so exquisite as that which comes of a really superior poem,
of which the diction is finished and smooth, the imagery is
bold and brilliant, the sentiments are inspiriting and elevating, the pathos is tender and sweet, and the faith is
reverent yet bold.
It follows that it is well, at least for the time, to have a
favorite poet, who engrosses our chief attention, and whose
best works are read, and read again, till they become altogether familiar. It may expose to a certain narrowness
and bigotry when our taste is crude and unformed, but it
is wise after this taste has become catholic and self-reliant,
because in this way we really master the works which we
have in hand. A poem, of all literary products, deserves
to be often read if it has superior excellence. It cannot be
appreciated without; neither the diction, nor the imagery,
nor the allusions, nor the feeling, nor the truth.  If we
give ourselves up for a little while to a single writer, we
live in his atmosphere, and form with his mind and heart
the sympathy of almost a personal friendship. There are
not a few men who make a single poet the favorite of their
lives, for some conspicuous fitness of his to their own tastes
and needs. Thus Shakspeare is cherished for his manysided fullness; or Milton for his majestic music and his
stately and solemn truth; or Dryden for his comprehensive
common sense and ready wit; or Cowper for his domestic
sympathies and habits, or his religious tenderness; or Scott
for his romantic spirit; or Wordsworth for his sympathy
with nature as a peace-giving and elevating friend; or
Tennyson for his struggling faith in goodness and in God;
or Whittier for his love of simple men and simple manners,
combined with a fiery enthusiasm for the right; or Long



256             Books and Reading.          [CHAP. XVI.
fellow for the clearness, the music, and the pathos of his
rhymes; or Lowell for the abandon of his affluent and
quick moving genius. It would not be difficult to show
that the familiar study of one of the great poets of England
brings an education of wider reach and higher elevation than
that which is often attained at the most pretentious and
costly schools. We have seen men and women of the olden
time, trained in the old-fashioned schools of " plain living
and high thinking," of rugged face and form, of manners
unstudied yet most refined, with whom Milton, or Cowper,
or Shakspeare, or Burns had been a life-long study, and
who had gained thereby a power of thought, a refinement
of feeling, and a sagacious insight of which many a flippant
Bohemian can have no conception, whose mind has been
inundated by the sewerage of modern poetry, made up of
the good, the indifferent, and the bad. We have been told
of a wrathful farmer, with whom  Miltonic studies were
always fresh, who, when selling a basket of eggs and talking politics, in the same breath vented his indignant impatience at the inevitable law by which bad politicians
unite and honest ones divide, in the wordsDevil and devil damned
Firm concord hold. Men only disagree.
The farmer's family, in a secluded valley in New
England, or on the remote prairie, in which the girls can
effectively and lovingly read, and the boys can intelligently
and responsively appreciate Milton, or Shakspeare, or
Coleridge, or Whittier, may boast of a better culture than
many a saloon in the most pretentious avenues of the
wealthiest and most luxurious cities. Many a Scottish
cottage draws from its well-thumbed copy of Burns more
refinement of thought and feeling than is attained by the
cultivated coxcomb or the accomplished miss, whose manners and accomplishments are consummate in everything




CHAP. XVrI.       Poetry and Poets.                  257
but the nobleness and refinement of sincere and elevated
feeling.
Better still than to confine ourselves too long to a single
favorite poet, is it to read very frequently from a choice
selection of the best poems of a variety of authors. Very
busy men, who in their youthful and less occupied days
]nave become familiar with the circle of the best English
poets, may refresh their recollections, and deepen and
strengthen their best lessons, by having always at hand,
and frequently in hand, a good selection of the best brief
poems and parts of poems, in which English poetry is so
abundant. We know more than one such person, who
often takes Palgrave's Golden Treasury as a traveling companion, and never tires-as who could possibly-of reading again and again one of its many gems in the vacancy
of the crowded rail-car, or the ennui of the steamboat trip,
or the prolonged delays of the waiting-room. Such a resource is worth not a little if it enables one under such
depressions to rise in a moment by the withdrawments of
the imagination,
Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot
Which men call earth, and with low thoughted care
Confined and pestered in this pinfold here,
Strive to keep up a frail and feverish being.
Such a snatch of reading is more than refreshment; it elevates and purifies the imagination, and gives new spring
and tension to our nobler nature. It is reasonable to hope
that many may thus
"by due steps aspire
To lay their just hands on that golden key
Which opes the palace of eternity."
Dana's Household Book of Poetry is indeed a Haussehatz,
as similar collections are called in Germany, from which
may readily be drawn the beguilement of many a weary
17




258            Books and Reading.          [CHAP. xvI.
hour, rest from eating cares, and deliverance from petty
irritations.
We have already anticipated in part the answer to the
question, " Why should we make much of the reading and
study of poetry?". We may be more explicit and add:
They are valuable for the peculiar and elevated pleasure
which they give. Poetry pleases the ear. The charm of
rhythmical verse is universally confessed. There is nothing in well-turned prose, however choice in words, or
weighty in thought, or eloquent in emotion or appeal, which
can be compared with a consummate passage of superior
poetry, whether it be graphic in description, or passionate,
intense, and elevating in lyric effect, or suggestive in reflection, or life-like in the action and emotion of the drama;
provided only the diction answers to tlhe sentiment. The
limitations and the demands of verse require something in
language which cannot be enforced of prose writing. The
satisfaction of these demands is gratifying to the welltrained ear, not with a merely sensuous effect, but with the
effect of sound as expressive of, and corresponding to the
soul of sense and meaning. The practised student of poetry may augment this pleasure if he will train his ear by
the hearing of poetry well read. Few  accomplishments
are more satisfactory in the use than the skill to read with
effect and feeling, the poetry which we or others admire
and love. The gift of song may be more admired because
it is more rare, but the gift of reading musically and well,
is "an excellent thing " in man, and pre-eminently in woman. To hear good poetry well read is always pleasing,
and even to imagine we heard it read as we follow the
rhythm in appreciative and critical judgment gives no
trivial pleasure.
The study and reading of poetry exercises and cultivates
the imagination, and in this way imparts intellectual power.
It is impossible to read the product of any poet's imagina



CHAP. XVI.]       Poetry and Poets.              259
tion without using our own. To read what he creates is
to recreate in our own minds the ivnages and pictures
which he first conceived and then expressed in language.
The unimaginative soul cannot enjoy poetry; he cannot
understand it, because he cannot interpret its words by responsive pictures of his own creating. On the other hand,
the man who does read poetry, and with effect and appreciation, must use his imagination, and by use make it more
dexterous in its power to create, and more refined in its capacity to judge. We do not intend that such a training
involves the power of expression either in prose or verse;
for the reason that this gift, and pre-eminently the gift of
expression in verse, is the product of another and an entirely different species of training.  But that poetry
strengthens and refines the imagination is evident from the
fact that it trains the mind to view nature and the human
life under poetic aspects. The student of Thomson, Cowper, of Wordsworth and Tennyson, cannot read them with
success without forming the habit of seeing nature under
poetic aspects and with poetic eyes. He cannot be taught
by these writers to muse upon the human life which they
describe in its ideal and imaginative relations, without reflecting himself upon the human life which he sees, under
similar lights and shades. He must inevitably view its
darker shades as transfigured with poetic beauty, and its
brighter aspects as tinged with graver shadows. Whatever
he sees, however common-place or prosaic, he learns to lookl
into a picture. Whatever hethinks of he must invest with
ideal beauty and refinement. That these habits are favorable to purity and nobleness of feeling, and to magnanimity and morality of word or deed, we shall not argue over
again. WVe are contented to cite a second time the words
of Bacon, that "PIoesy serveth and conferreth to magnanimity, morality, and to delectation. And therefore it was
ever thought to have somle participation of divineness."




260               Boocs and Reading.           [CHAP. xVI.
What Coleridge says of the writing of poetry must be true
of the reading of it%  " Poetry has been to me its own exceeding great reward; it has soothed my afflictions, it has
multiplied and refined my enjoyments, and it has given me
the habit of wishing to discover the good and the beautiful
in all that meets and surrounds me."  W~ordsworth's lines
recur to us in this connection" Blessings be with them-and eternal praise,
Who gave us nobler loves and nobler caresThe Poets, who on earth have made us heirs
Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays."
The habitual reading and study of poetry, especially of
the loftier types, is eminently useful as a preparation for
the writer or speaker, who is required to compose in moving discourse on grave and elevated themes. It was the
counsel of a very eminent Christian preacher to one who
was just entering upon his profession: "Always have some
fine poem in hand-dramatic is to be preferred-if you
would keep yourself in tone for the successful composition
of sermons; " and the advice is pertinent to every species
of elevated prose composition.
That the poetry which elevates and excites the imagination is also favorable to religious aspiration and religious
faith need not be argued. It is evident from the single
fact, that however grievously the highest gifts of imagination have been occasionally abused, no great poet has ever
failed to express at times the semblance of high religious aspiration. Every poet of the higher type has often fired his
imagination at the altar of religious worship. Whether
the aspirations and worship which he has offered are inconsistent or not with fixed principles and high moral purposes, or whether they are the passing flush of the excited
phantasy, makes little difference with our argument, that the
imagination cannot soar without flying upward towards
God, and in seeking God must approve that which is holy




CHAP. XVI.]       Poetry and Poets.                261
and pure, as well as unselfish and self-controlled. The
imagination, in order to rise and soar, must at least feign
that she believes and worships. Shelley and Byron and
Goethe are memorable witnesses to this important truth.
But what poets shall we read, and in what order? and
why should we select certain poets above others? Upon
this topic we have sought to furnish principles rather than
rules; to enable the reader to select for himself rather than
rely on the authority of another. But we may for a moment glance at a few of the leading names in the long list
of English poets.  Chaucer leads the way-the morning
star of English poesy-fit leader of a host so brilliant; for
we may say, without conscious exaggeration or fear of dispute, that the poetry of England is the richest, the most
varied, and the most brilliant of any which the world has
ever seen; as it should be, reflecting as it does a manhood
which has been developed most variously and most nobly,
and a life the most heroic, the most fervent, the most affectionate, that has marked the world's history.  Chaucer
must be studied in order to be read; but when Chaucer
has been studied so as to be easily followed, he confronts you
with the dawn of a brilliant day-dewy, fresh, transparent,
and invigorating.  He gives you the Odyssey of the English poetry, and reveals the spring-time of English life.
Next comes Spenser, wearisome for his meandering verse
laden with its wealth of bewildering imagery, but affluent
to excess with pictures that are clear and bright, and always noble, chivalrous, pure and Christian. He gives
English feeling in its knightly aspect, as it was exemplified in the life of Sidney and others of the selecter spirits
of "great Eliza's golden time."  Then comes Shakspeare,
the myriad-minded indeed, reflecting in the manifoldness
of his products and the power with which he lives and feels
in all, the fervent and manifold life of England's population in his times; the admiration of the modern world in




262              Books and Reading.          [CHAP. xvI.
its height of culture and its depth of philosophy; the challenger of critics, before whose mysterious power to think
and express they confess themselves abashed, and by the
unsolved enigmas of many of whose characters and whose
truths they continue to be dazed and overcome. Milton
follows, representing another type of poets, and another
aspect of English life; learned, grave, and stern, bearing
the impress of one who had indeed been "caught up into
Paradise and heard unspeakable words;" but still human
in his unmatched love of nature, his tender sympathy with
human life, and his delight in music, whether
He hears the pealing organ blow
To the full-voiced choir below,
In service high and anthems clear,
or rejoices in the sweet rising of thelearliest morn with'C charm of earliest birds."  Milton gives us the life of the
English people, when believing in God as the greatest of
kings, they dared in his name to vindicate the rights of human subjects, and showed the virtues of that stern knighthood which had received such a fiery consecration. We
name Dryden next, the best and the manliest poet of
English thought and feeling at the beginning of a sad
degeneracy-the man of the world, frank, brave, outspoken, with a brilliant genius, but often untrue to his
better self through the corruption of manners and the
degradation of the higher imagination. Pope follows next,
sententious, acute, brilliant, and felicitous, the servant of
an age which he was content to flatter and to please, but
never attempted to elevate, who fixed for English poetry
that factitious and stilted poetic diction which was echoed
and re-echoed by imitators till it became ashamed and
vexed at its own empty reiterations.
Against this excess of factitious emptiness there came an
inevitable reaction.  Thomson dared to follow his own




CHAP. XVI.]        Poetry and Poets.             263
luxuriant fancy, and rose to occasional flights that remind
us of the earlier and better times of Milton and Spenser.
Cowper with no suspicion of his own genius, and often
homely and uncultured in his diction, was by the very unconsciousness of his power left more free from the trammels of allegiance to poets or critics, to follow the promptings of his love of nature, humanity, and God. Crabbe,
more homely even than Cowper, was also more literal than
he in his transcripts of the humble life with which he was
familiar. Burns, having no impulse and little guidance
except from within, sung from his own heart songs of
penetrating sense and wondrous tenderness. Campbell,
Scott, and Joanna Baillie represent types that are unique,
but each gave an impulse to the better spirit. Byron was
stirred by pride and wrath to use the genius which he
could not repress; breaking other of the traditions of the
past besides the poetic, which he fancied he kept as against
his rivals, the Lake Poets. With Byron, Shelley may properlr be connected, though in many respects more spiritual,
refined and noble. Meanwhile the Lake School had been
gathering strength, and began to act as a redeeming force.
Wordsworth, with his cool defiance of the prevailing
fashion, promulgated an extreme theory, with a practice
still more extreme. Coleridge, Southey, Wilson, Landor,
and Lamb were agreed, not in adopting the theory or following the practice of Wordsworth, but in their emancipation from any fashion of poetic diction, and in their fresh
and liberal imitation of, or rather inspiration by, the elder
poets. From their triumph commences the new era of
English poetry in England and America. Milman, Tennyson, Barry Cornwall, Henry Taylor, the Brownings,
Hood, Ingelow, Arthur Clough, and Matthew Arnold,
in England; Dana, Pierpont, Percival, Bryant, Longfellow, Lowell, Whittier, and Emerson in America, follow ill
great or less measure the impulses of the modern school,




264             Books and Reading.         [CHAP. XVI.
which we need not characterize. Last of all comes William Morris,.with his antique and objective spirit, as a
healthful and needed counterpoise to the excessively subjective tendencies of the same recent school.
In religious poetry English literature is rich. Milton,
George Herbert, Watts, Doddridge, the Wesleys, Keble,
and Faber are examples of its different types. In poetic
translators from the ancient bards we have of Homer,
Chapman, Pope, Cowper, Lord Derby, Sotheby, Newman,
Bryant and others; of Virgil, Dryden, and Conington; of
Horace, Lytton Bulwer and Conington; of Dante, Cary
and Longfellow; of Tasso, Fairfax; and of various works
of the modern German, Coleridge, Scott, Lytton Bulwer,
and others.
But it is time we had ended. The golden roll of
English poetry is embarrassing from its wealth and tempting suggestions.




CHAPTER XVII.
THE CRITICISM AND HISTORY OF LITERATURE.
WITHIN the present century, there has come into being
a new description of Books and Reading, viz.: those which
are devoted to the criticism  and history of literature itself.
Our libraries and book-shops are furnished with many
books which consist of criticisms of other books. Not only
is there a countless number of essays devoted to the criticism, and interpretation of single authors and even of single
works, but entire volumes are occupied with commentaries
on great authors or some one of their writings. We
have more than one series of essays, and even whole libraries, occupied solely with critiques upon single writers, as
Homer, Goethe, and Shakspeare. Active controversies
have arisen between the partisans of opposing theories.
Indeed, critiques and counter critiques are s6 abundant,
that it almost seems as though this was the age of nothing
but criticism, and literature were nothing if not critical.
It is certain there now exists a special department of literature which is employed in the interpretation and judgment
of literature itself, and that it has enlisted the services of
many of the ablest writers of their time, some of whom
have not only been distinguished as critics of the productions of men of surpassing genius, but have themselves
been known as foremost writers of their own generation.
WVe need name only Goethe, the Sehlegels, Coleridge,
Wordsworth, Made. de Stael, St. Beuve, Professor John lTilson, and Miiatthew Arnold.  Criticism itself has become a
department of literature, and is justified in its claims by
265




266              Books and Reacting.         [CHAP. XVII.
being "lso historical, philosophical, and almost creative of
itself.
This new criticism, in the eminent sense of the phrase,
may be said to be of German origin, though it has attained
a vigorous growth on English soil. That it should first
have taken form in Germany was natural. It is tlhe natural outgrowth of extensive reading, joined with an appreciative imagination and reflective sagacity. It must necessarily have been somewhat late in its development.  As
men must act poems before they write them,-as one
or many must act the hero, before others can recount their
exploits or celebrate their praises, so literature must be
created before it can be criticised. There must be brought
into being a considerable number of productions, in the
forms of poetry, fiction, the drama, history, biography, and
eloquence, before the materials are prepared with which
the critic can begin. When we assert that the species of
criticism which we have in mind is comparatively of recent
origin, we do not say that criticism of every kind is recent
in its growth, nor indeed that before the present century
there were no profound and genial critics, who took historic
and philosophical estimates of the great writers who had
gone before them, but only that criticism as it now exists
has come into organized being, with distinctly recognised
functions and fixed principles and laws for its direction.
Dryden and Johnson were both penetrating, and to a certain degree large-minded critics, but neither Dryden nor
Johnson rose above very narrow traditions, or personal
prejudices. WVe speak of the old and the new generally
when we say, that formerly, criticism confined itself almost
exclusively to the forms of literature, as the choice of words,
the rhythm of verse, the proportion of parts, the order of
development, the effectiveness of the introduction the argument and the peroration, and these, with the iilustration
and explanation of the meanincg of a workl or a writer, con



CHAP. XVII.]   Literary History and Criticism.     267
stituted its principal aims. Now, while it does not neglect
the form, it thinks more of the matter, i. e. the weightiness
and truth of the thoughts, the energy and nobleness of the
sentiments, the splendor and power of the. imagery, and the
heroic manhood or the refined womanhood of the writer as
expressed in his or her works. Formerly it judged of the
form by the fashion of the day in respect of style and diction, and pronounced everything barbarous which was not
after the newest.type, very much as the dress or hat which
are most becoming in themselves are declared to be dowdy
and frightful, if worn a year or a season too early or too
late. Now the form is regarded as that which in some respects must be transient and changeable,, according to the
shaping power of the matter itself, the temper of the
writer, and the temper of the times in which he lived and
in which he wrote. Formerly the critic was regarded by
others and too often regarded himself as the natural enemy
of the author. Now it is exacted of him that he should be
the expounder of the author's thoughts and the sharer bf
his feelings; that he should almost see with his eyes, hear
with his ears, and judge with his mind. But this estimate
of the characteristic features of the new criticism is general
and superficial. A closer and more careful examination,
gives the following results:
First: the new criticism starts with a more enlarged and
profound conception of literature itself. The word literature, etymologically considered, is necessarily somewhat
loose and general in its import, signifying whatever is committed to a permanent form by writing.  When this imiport is somewhat narrowed, it signifies whatever survives
a merely ephemeral existence, and attracts the notice of a
second generation. In this sense, any book or tract would
come under this designation, if it be worth retaining in a
library, or if it happens to be so preserved.  With the
older critics, literature included only those works which




268             Books and Beading.          [CHAP. xvII.
were eminent and attractive from perfection in style,
beauty and fitness of imagery, or elevation of sentiment;
those being preeminent which combined all these excellencies in one. By a practice that was almost universal,
the word was restricted to those works whose prime object was to address the imagination or to please, the taste.
Under this usage literature was confined to poetry, fiction,
and the drama, also to various lighter effusions, but they
all must have the common characteristic of being designed
to amuse rather than instruct, to gratify some Aesthetic interest rather than to convince or to arouse to action. If a
work had any higher end than these, it was by general
consent excluded from literature and deemed unworthy of
the notice of the critic, as it was exempt from his censure.
The poetry of Miltonr was literature, but his Areopagitica
with its magnificent prose, and his Defensio Populi Anglicani with its splendid invective were not, because they
were political tracts. The poems of Donne and Cowley
were literature, but the sermons of Jeremy Taylor
though luxuriant with the wealth of an oriental imagination, were not literature, because they were composed with
an earnest Christian purpose.  A  work  profound  in
thought, if it was designed to convince of truth; impassioned in eloquence, if it was written to persuade; bright
with humor, if it was intended for practical effect; was excluded from the roll of the literature of the period, as too
severe and earnest, however finished it might be in style,
rich in imagery, or elevated in sentiment.- A  conception
of literature so narrow must, of necessity, be belittling and
trivial to author and critic. It could not but make the
writer trifling and heartless, and his censor fastidious and
flippant.
Now-a-days literature is restricted within no such narrow limits, and, as the result, both literature and criticism
have been elevated.  While it is required that every work




CasP. XVII.]    Literary tHistory and Criticism    269
which aspires to be called a work of literature should have
a certain perfection of finish and of form, none are excluded by reason of their solidity of matter, or earnestness
of aim. A history or a sermon, an oration or a political
tract, even a scientific essay if excellent in method and
style, in eloquence and imagery, takes the place as a contribution to the literature of a period or of a nation, to
which its merits entitle it. As a consequence, the conception of literature itself is greatly elevated and ennobled.
Instead of being regarded as one of the accessories of culture and luxury, it is viewed as the best and noblest expression of the best powers of the ablest men of an age.
Instead of being judged by the mere accidents of form, and
according to the capriciousness of a changing taste, it is
both studied and tested according to its perfect ideal. It
follows,Second: that while the older was narrow and conventional in its standards, the new  criticism  is catholic and
liberal in its spirit.  The tendency of the earlier criticism
was to set up a single author who was supposed to be nearest the ideal perfection, as the standard by which to try
every other.  Every other author, and the literature of
every other period, were measured by him and'the literature of which he set the fashion. Thus, in the days of
Queen Anne, Dryden, Addison, or Swift furnished the
norm of actual and almost of possible perfection. A
generation later, Johnson and his imitators imposed, if
they did not constitute, the rule of measurement. The
earlier and nobler writers of the'days of Elizabeth and
James were now depreciated for their latinized and lumbering sentences and then counted half barbarians for that
individual freedom which inspired their genius and constituted their real strength and glory.
In a generation still later, literature was still more or
less conventional, because criticism kept it in bonds to the




270            1Books and Reading.        [cHAP. xvII.
factitious standards which were derived from Addison,
Pope and Johnson; inconsistent with one another as were
the examples and the teachings of the masters from which
she received her laws. In vain did Thomson give range
to the impulses of his creative imagination, and Cowper
plead the exemption from rule of one who claimed to be a
rhymester and did not aspire to be called a poet. In vain
did Burke give vent to the eloquence and imagery which
his fiery imagination could not restrain, and Scott followed
the bent' of a romantic spirit which was inbreathed from
his infancy. Criticism was still inexorable, till the more
catholic spirit of Coleridge, Wordsworth, and others whom
they incited and inspired, awakened the English mind to
the personal and admiring study of the older writers, and
encouraged the young littirateurs to dare to use all the resources of their own affluent language with the freedom of
the elder days, and to give utterance to their thoughts in a
more copious and untrammeled diction. The cumbrous
phraseology of the old writers, their involved sentences, their
learned pedantry, their disregard of neatness, directness,
simplicity, and taste, had previously made them outcasts
from polite society, or if they were admitted they were
wondered at, rather than admired on account of "' the barbaric pearl and gold " with which they were so richly clad,
because their ornaments were not in the mode and their
garments were out of fashion. But now these defects are
little thought of in comparison with the greater copiousness
and variety of their diction, the individuality impressed
upon their style, and the shaping of the diction to the
thought and feeling of the writer. To the victory, thus
achieved by this more catholic criticism, do we owe it,
that, in the last two generations, the range of thought in
our leading writers has been so greatly enlarged, the depth
of their researches has been proportionately increased, their
philosophy has been more profound, their strength and in



CrUP. XVII]   Literary aoist'3iy and Criticismo    271
tensity of emotion have been augmented, their imaginative
power has been more unrestrained and more creative, and
their diction has been more varied and powerful.
The modern criticism has not only been more catholic in its
tastes and judgments of native literature, but also in its capacity to judge fairly and to appreciate adequately the literature of other countries and of remote ages.. In this respect the earlier criticism was eminently bigoted and narrow. In looking upon its own narrow domain as the celestial empire and the flowery land, it regarded all foreign
writers as in a certain sense outside barbarians, who might
indeed be worthy of consideration for certain excellencies
of style or imagery, or for the purposes of grammar and
philology, but were thought to have no special claim to attention as varied expressions of that common human life
which makes the whole world kin. The new criticism, in
rising above such narrow prejudices, has not only done justice to its neighbor, but it has gained more than an equivalent for itself-reaping the double benison of charity, which
always blesses him that gives as well as him that takes.
In this, it has sympathized with the general movement of
our times. While many of the sciences, both physical and
humanistic, have become liberal by becoming comparative,
as anatomy, physiology, and philology; criticism has also
learned to compare the literatures of different ages and different nations, and to estimate them by certain fundamental principles. Critics now bring to the same bar of judgment Goethe, Shakspeare and Moliere, and try them all in
respect of their common adaptation to express and please
the same human nature. Criticism concludes its examinations and allots its sentences without respect of persons.
What is different in each writer, in language or nationality,
serves to set in bolder relief what is common; and the various methods by which writers of different countries accomplish the same effect, impress the reader with the varied




272             Books and Reading.          [CHAP. xvII.
resources of human genius. National peculiarities, whether
of matter or form, are relished with a special zest, and the
reader's attention is quickened as he turns from one to the
other with a freshened interest. This leads us to observeThird: The new criticism is more philosophical than the
old in its methods, and is therefore more just in its conclusions. Indeed it calls itself, by eminence, philosophical
criticism. This claim is not extravagant, if the criticism is
at once really elevated and catholic, inasmuch as these
terms are almost interchangeable with profound and comprehensive. In aspiring to be philosophical, it seeks to
find those principles which explain and, justify everything
that is excellent, and to expose and reject whatever proves
to be defective or bad. In respect of style or diction, it seeks
for the permanent and common characteristics of good
writing, in those endless and manifold peculiarities of an
individual writer, which spring from the constraints of language, from the genius of his nation, from the temper and
culture of his period, and from his own individual habits
or circumstances. In respect of thought, it measures each
writer by the circumstances of his people and his time, as
well as by the special aims which he has in view, and the
capacity or attainments which the workings of his imagination may have showed. If it estimates a poet or novelist it
judges his genius by all the local and temporary influences,
which made him what he was, as well as by his acceptableness to the private taste of the critic or the critic's special
coterie. It does not try Goethe by Molikre, or either by
Shakspeare, or each and all by a living English dramatist
or poet, but according to a just standard for each. It does
not claim from Auerbach and Freitag, what it exacts from
George Eliot and Anthony Trollope. In the same way,
among English writers, it does not measure Scott by
Dickens or Dickens by Thackeray, or Thackeray by
George Eliot, or George Eliot by Hawthorne. It does




CHAP. XVIr.]    Literary History and Criticism.  273
not test the subjective Tennyson by the objective William
Morris, nor Robert Browning by the simple William
Barnes of Dorsetshire, nor The Spanish Gypsy by The
Ring and the Book, nor Whittier by Longfellow. It finds
what is good in each, and judges the good of each, by the
individuality of the author, the ends for which he writes,
the audience to whom he writes, the times in which he
writes, and the language through which he writes, as well
as the people whose genius inspires what he writes. While
it receives, as the rule of its judgments, the nature of man,
it recognizes the truth that this nature exists and manifests
itself under an indefinite variety of conditions, without
ceasing to be the same.
WVe add next, andFourth: that this criticism, in being more just, is necessarily more generous and genial. It cannot well be other-.
wise. For its cardinal maxim is, the critic cannot be just
to an author unless he puts himself in the author's place.
Its comprehensive rule is, if you would understand an
author's meaning you must learn to think as the author
thinks, to feel as he feels, to look at nature and man
through his eyes, to respond to both with his soul, to estimate his audience as he knew them, to measure the instruments of language and imagery which he had at command,
in their several limitations, as well as their capacities. You
must do all these things before you can even begin to
judge him. This is only a special application of the principle which is expressed in the golden rule, "Whatsoever
ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to
them." In putting in practice this rule of simple justice
to any author who deserves our attentive study, there is
wakened toward him an appreciative sympathy. It is
only by seeking fairly and fully to understand a writer,
that we are enabled to enter fully into his feelings, to catch
his spirit, and to weigh his reasonings if we are not con18




274              Books and Reading.       [CHAP. VITr.
vinced by them. So complete, at times, is this sympathy
with a writer whom we desire to understand, that as we
give ourselves up to his influence, we seem to be his other
self; we seem with him to create, and, borne on the rushing
stream of his thick coming fancies, to revel in the joy of
exercising the gift which we have newly acquired. Criticism thus applied wakens enthusiasm rather than represses
it. It teaches us to look for excellences rather than to
search for defects-and when it has taught us to find them,
it prompts to our unrepressed enjoyment of them. It
wakens in the mind a generous, because an intelligent delight in the beauties it reveals. It bids the reader be lenient
to inadvertencies and defects in a writer of positive merit,
because it teaches him how they are to be accounted for.
Fifth: The philosophic critic, in the very best sense of
the term, interprets the author to the reader. Thomas
Carlyle says, in his peculiar way, of IIeyvne, the editor of
Virgil, " I can remember it was quite a revolution in my
mind when I got hold of that man's book on Virgil. I
found that for the first time I had understood him- that
he had introduced me for the first time into an insight of
Rorman life, and pointed out the circumstances in which
the poems were written-and here was interpretation."
This is indeed interpretation, and such interpretation is
needed in a far wider and deeper sense than is commonly
appreciated, and of a multitude of authors whose meaning
seems obvious to a man of common understanding, while
yet it may be imperfectly understood. What Carlyle calls
the circumstances in which a work was written, are very
comprehensive in their significance. They include almost
everything which may be known about an author; not
the accidents of his external life-the day of his birth and
death, or the number of years that he lived,-but the sort
of a man he was in character and the sort of people with h~whom he had to do; and this, not so much in their man



CaiP. XVIL]   Literary fitior'y and &-iticism.  275
ners and habits as in their conceptions of life, their movingprinciples, includincg their prejudices and superstitions —
what they were willing to fight for and die for, what they
loved most heartily and hated most bitterly;how they
kept their holidays, how they spent their work-days, and
all else that may give a complete picture of the life out of
which sprung the poems or sermons or tracts which the
writer composed, and for which he wrote them. Matthew
Arnold says, very pertinently, that "'creative literary
genius does not principally show itself in discovering new
ideas," but " its gift lies in the faculty of being happily inspired by a certain intellectual and spiritual atmosphere,
which finds itself in them.L"  "This is the reason why
creative epochs in literature are so rare," " because, for the
creation of a master-work of literature, two powers must
concur, the power of the moment and the power of the
man, and the man is not enough without the moment."
To understand the atmosphere on which a great writer depends for the development of his genius, is not always
easy. It requires much study and sagacity to find it out,
much honesty and zeal to appreciate it, and often great
skill to represent it for the ready apprehension of another.
This is the reason why the greatest gifts of genius can be
so severely tasked as well as worthily employed in this
service of interpretation, and also why when this service is
successfully performed, it invests the author with manifold
greater attractions for the reader, and binds him to his interpreter by heavy obligations.
There is also another sense, perhaps a higher, in which
the critic interprets his author, especially if he be a great
dramatic writer who must outline his characters by a few
bold and masterly strokes, and manifest their inner life by
means of a few significant words and actions. The reader,
without the aid of the critic, may be astonished by bold
deeds and be excited by passionate words, and yet be una



276              Books and Reading.       [CHAP. XVII.
bie except with this aid to penetrate their significance or
to fill out what the poet has only suggested. We select
Hamlet as a striking example of what we mean. As we
study this character, it seems to require some age and
thought to interpret its obvious import. Let us concede,
however, that an intelligent person however young can
scarcely follow the fortunes of the unlucky prince, without
feeling a saddened sympathy stealing over his soul, even
while he is more and more perplexed by the enigmatical
character of much that he says and does. But let the reader study the analysis of the ideal Hamlet which Goethe
has given in two or three pages of Wilhelm Meister, and
return to the play; he will find it invested with a new interest, as well as enriched with a deeper significance. If
we suppose Goethe's conception of Hamlet to be correct, it
not only explains the play as a whole, but it also gives significance to incidents and sayings that would otherwise be
unintelligible, if not offensive. The difficulty in fully understanding Hamlet without such a guide is, in part, as we
have already intimated, that his character is rather sketched
than completed-that it is suggested rather than developed; and also that many readers lack the experience
of human life, and the sagacity to interpret what they observe, which are requisite to comprehend a character so
complicated and strange. Goethe interprets Hamlet when
he teaches the reader to imagine some one of his own circle who has had an experience similar to his, and to conceive what would be his conflicting emotions, under a
calamity so sudden and so sad. He goes even further and
teaches us to understand the almost superhuman sagacity
of the poet in making a word or an act, perhaps of irony
or bitter scorn, to express or suggest so much. For Goethe
to have interpreted Hamlet may not be so signal a proof
of genius as it was for Shakspeare to create him, but no
man who could not also create could have interpreted the




CHAP. XVII.]  Literary History and Criticism.      277
character so well, if he could have interpreted it'at all.
The acceptable service which Goethe has rendered to the
readers of the great Dramatist is one of the most important which modern criticism has achieved.  While it illustrates the need which the reader may feel of the critic's
assistance, it exalts the service to which the critic is called.
What Goethe did for Hamlet, has been done by other critics for many of the other characters of Shakspeare. We
know it is often said that some of the most distinguished
of these critics have found more in many of his characters
than ever Shakspeare dreamed, and that by the extravagance of their fancies and the boldness of their suggestions, they have displaced the originals which Shakspeare
conceived. This may be conceded, and the fact still be
unquestioned that even where critics err by overdoing,
they stimulate to healthful inquiry and to wakeful earnestness. Certainly, the modern world would lose much of
stimulating and instructive reading, if it should lose what
Coleridge, and Hazlitt, and Mrs. Jameson; what Ulrici,
Schlegel, and Gervinus; what Henry Reed, H. N. Hudson,
and Richard Grant White have written upon the great
English Dramatist.
If the gifted critic sometimes errs or overdoes by substituting his own fancies for the thoughts of his author, he
more than compensates for this, by making the suggestions
of the author a text for brilliant thoughts of his own. As
there is nothing more stimulating to a man of genius than
the works of another man of genius, so it should not be
surprising that the criticisms upon a great writer of such
thinkers as Coleridge, Goethe, and St. Beuve, may' contain
the most valuable and inspiring original contributions.
The thoughts need be none the less original because they
are excited by the thoughts of another, any more than the
thoughts of two persons who are brilliant in conversation,
are less original or less weighty because the one stimulates




278              Books and Reading.         [CHAP. XVII.
or arouses the other. The encounter, when the critic meets
his author, may not be unlike that which the witty
Thomas Fuller records of Shakspeare and Ben Jonson, in
the words which, though familiar, will bear repeating:
"' Many were the wit-combats between him and Ben Jonson, which two I beheld like a Spanish great galleon and
an English man-of-war. Master Jonson, like the former,
was built far higher in learning; solid but slow in his performances. Shakspeare, like an English man-of-war,
lesser in bulk, but lighter in sailing, could turn with all
tides, and take advantage of all winds, by the quickness of
his wit and invention."
Sixth: Philosophical criticism  not only interprets an
author by means of his times, but it interprets the times of
an author by means of his writings.  In other words,
modern criticism  is a most important adjunct to history,
and for that reason eminently deserves to be called historical criticism.  Not only must we know something of the
history of an author's surroundings,-his atmosphere, as
Matthew Arnold calls them,-in order to appreciate more
justly either the man or his works, but we can also learn
very much of these surroundings by means of his writings.
The literature of a period is one of the most important adjuncts to the story of its history. It supplies certain descriptions of information which no other sources of knowledge can yield.  It stamps and fixes impressions of much
besides, such as no secondary or indirect information can
possibly imprint, giving those vivid and life-like images
of the men and scenes of the past which are the best substitutes for having actually lived among them.
The Odyssey of Homer is a fresh and detailed picture
of the Greek life in its golden age. As we follow the story
of the wanderings of its hero, we see and feel how the
Greeks must have lived in the times when Homer actually
wrote, -what they thought, how they felt, how  they fuir



CHAP. xvII.]    Literary History and Criticism.  279
nished their houses, how they supplied their tables, how
they entertained their guests, how they regarded their
wives and children, and in what esteem they held their
horses and dogs. We learn with what thoughts they
looked up to the stars, with what longing and admiring
eyes they looked out on the neighboring azure sea as it lay
along their sharp horizon, ever glittering with its rippling
laughter, and with what a shuddering awe they thought
of the mysterious and unexplored ocean which extended
beyond, how far and whither they knew not. We are
made to know how the Greeks viewed the present life in
its wealth and friendship, its prizes and honors, its love of
country and of glory, its comforts of home and its delights
of love, and how they sought to penetrate into the life unseen, filling it with the shapes of beauty and of terror with
which their brilliant mythology also peopled the earth and
the air. We visit Greece with longing expectations. We
rejoice in its transparent atmosphere and delight in its
beautiful islands and azure sea. We admire the few remnants of its temples and shrines. But we are appalled at
the misery and degradation of its present inhabitanrts, and
cannot find the lively and polished Greek whom we look
for among the loungers in the market places of Athens or
the attendants upon its university. We can only find him
as we study the comedies of Aristophanes. We look for
Socrates in the scanty and starveling groves which we
fancy may be haunted by his shade, but we can only find
Socrates where we find Alcibiades and Plato, in the dialogues written by Plato himself, and in Xenophon's sketches
from the life. We go to the Pnyx to hear Demosthenes,
and to the Areopagus to listen to Paul, but it is only in the
recorded words of each that we can either hear the orators
or see their audiences.
We visit Damascus, Syria, and Palestine. Simple history, even when it is the best constructed, and the most




280             Books and Reading.        [CHAP. XVII.
faithful, can only give us imperfect impressions of the
people which once inhabited the now half deserted plains
and mountains. The brief, but graphic, annals of Jewish
patriarchs and kings supply us only with the facts concerning the external life of the tribes that once made these
deserts blossom as the rose. But in these records we can
neither find the people as they were, nor can we imagine
how they felt and lived. We must go to Job to find the
devout man of the desert, the counterpart of Abraham, the
father of his people; but with Job and the Odyssey together, we begin to understand the monotheistic patriarch
of the East. When we study the code of laws which
Moses enacted, and the solemn counsels with which he enforced these laws, we learn more of who the Hebrew people were. If we proceed to study those matchless Psalms,
in which God was praised for the glory of the heavens,
the beauty of the stars, the tumult of the storm and the
noise of the ocean over which He thundered with His awful voice; the Psalms in which His holiness was extolled,
the victories of His leadership were recounted, the nation's
feasts of thanksgiving and sacrifice were solemnized, and
the glory of Jerusalem was fitly set forth; in which also
the prayer and praise, the penitence and thankfulness of
the individual worshiper were expressed in words which
have never been surpassed; then, and not till then, do we
learn, in the spirit of Hebrew poetry, the spirit of the
Hebrew people. If we follow on through the sad lamentations of their prophets, their fierce rebukes, their faithful
admonitions, and their glorious predictions, we learn to
know this people more perfectly in their evil as well as
their good, in their sad perverseness, as well as their many
repentings and frequent returns to God. Moreover it is
only in all these treasures of poetic and prophetic literature, that we trace the rising of the star of promise, till it




CHAP. XVII.]    Literary History and Criticism.    281
stood at last over Bethlehem, and heralded the angelic
shouts of glad tidings of great joy.
We wander lingering from Bethlehem to Calvary,
-in those holy fields,
Over whose acres walked those blessed feet,
Which, eighteen hundred years ago, were nailed
For our advantage to the bitter cross,
studying the path in which those footsteps lie, if perhaps
we may catch some vision of the present Jesus. But both
in Bethlehem and at the Sepulchre, we hear the answer to
our longings, He is not here, He is risen. As we read
the history which records His deeds, we cannot bring Him
back to the desolate land which He once inhabited. But
as we read His own words in the most precious legacy
which human literature has preserved, we seem to see Him
living-and while we worship at His feet, we rejoice.in
His benediction.
When we go to Rome and Italy we cannot find the old
Romans, however earnestly we search for them  in their
sepulchres, in the Forum, or the Coliseum, or however
sanguinely we look to see them repeated in the population
which now inhabits the Eternal city. We cannot revive
them to our imaginations by the unaided force of all the
suggestions which haunt the Tiber or the Appian way.
We find them only as we consult the letters of Cicero and
of Pliny, and the poems of Virgil, of Lucan, and of Lucretius, or study the treatises of Seneca and Antoninus.
The old Roman life re-appears in the incidental records
of their thoughts and feelings, which we find in these and
similar writers, and in the incidental glimpses which they
give of the life of the people with whom they had to do.
As we compare ancient literature with modern, we reach
the confident conclusion, that the virtues of the ancients
were patriotism, hospitality, friendship, and honor, all restricted in their sphere, however noble in kind, and limited




282              Books and R2cading.         [CHAP. XVIr.
to certain external duties and elevated sentiments.  Wie.
miss entirely the self-denying love of man as man, which
Christianity sanctioned by the most characteristic act of
its great founder.  The Christian love to enemies, the
Christian forgiveness of injuries, its sweet and contented
submission to adversity, its patience under undeserved
wrong, the overcoming evil with good-all being special
virtues of the temper, springing from charity as the bond
of their perfectness-were not known, we do not say in
the practice of the ancients, but they were not honored as
elements of their ideal.  All this we know from their literature when it is critically studied as a trustworthy representation of the people's inner life. From the literature of the ancients we learn with satisfactory certainty the
place which woman held in the house and in society.  We
know that in the esteem and afections of the best and the
purest, she did not hold the place, with the rarest exceptions, which she now holds in the confidence and love of
myriads of households and of hearts.  The ideal man of
the noblest ancient schools, was immeasurably inferior to
the ideal man of multitudes of humble and uncultured
Christian communities. We learn all this from  what is
plainly manifest in the literatures of the ancient and
modern worlds.
The importance of the critical study of literature as an
aid to the interpretation of modern history is equally manifest. It is even more so, because the appliances which literature furnishes for the exposition of many periods of modern history are so much more varied than those which illustrate the best known of any of the ancient generations.
The reign of Queen Elizabeth is reflected, as in a magic
mirror, in the plays and letters, in the sermons and diaries
of her time. The times of the memorable conflict between
Puritan and Cavalier can be almost literally reproduced
from the direct and indireet sketches which were made of




CaAP. xvrr.]   Literary Itistory aczm  Citicism2.     283
its various characters and scenes, in the manifold forms of
literature which were photographed from  the life by unconscious artists.  The writings of Swift and his compeers,
the plays and songs of the hour, libels and street placards,
sermons and letters-all these were materials which enabled Thackeray, with the rarest critical discernment to reconstruct his admirable historical tale of the days of Queen
Anne. It was out of the literature of their several periods
that Scott was able almost to recreate these periods.
The service of the critical study of literature is as great
to the reader of history as it is to the writer. No one can
fully appreciate the history of any people or of any period
by relying on the descriptions and judgments of others.
I-e must, in a certain sense, construct this history for himself, even when he reads it as constructed by others; at
least he must reinforce the assertions, and verify the conclusions of his authorities, by looking for himself, so far
as he may, upon the people and events described, and doing
this face to face.  This he can in no way do so effectually.as by studying their literature. But in order to do this
with the most eminent success, most readers require the aid
of the philosophical critic, to explain the relations of literature to history.
Seventh. The critical study of literature is of service to
biography as well as to history. If we can read the times
of an author by the pictures of them which he reflects in
his writings, much more can we learn the character of the
author himself by the sentiments and feelings with which
he reproduces his times, as they are seen in the shadings
and colors with which he represents them. If a man's private letters are often the best materials out of which to construct his biography, it should be remembered that much
of what he publishes as his works are in some sense his
public letters, his epistles to the world and to posterity, as
these convey, not alone what he professedly aims to produce




284            Books and Reading.         [cHAP. xvII.
and record, but often much more of what he unconsciously
reveals. Some books from their very nature, reveal very
little of their author's feelings and character. But very
many books communicate much more, at times, than he designs or desires. The sonnets of Shakspeare, the poems of
Milton, the playful and serious essays of Cowper, the meditations of Wordsworth, the passionate outbreaks of Byron,
the vague aspirations of Shelley, and the prolonged lament
of Tennyson, when skillfully interpreted, enable us to penetrate into the secrets of their hearts, and open to us the
hidden springs of their character. It is the office of the
critic to discriminate between what does and what does not
express the man, and thus to interpret the man by many of
his works; and the service which he renders to the reader
is often of surpassing interest.




CHAPTER XVIII.
THE CRITICISM OF ENGLISH LITERATURE.
THE features of modern criticism which have been enumerated, may suffice. We may perhaps more profitably,
as well as more practically, proceed to consider our own
literature as a field for its exercise. We may aver with
confidence, that English literature furnishes the amplest,
the most varied, and the most interesting materials for the
critic, of any whether ancient or modern. It ought not
to surprise us that it should.' The compound structure of
the language gives an advantage to the writer as well as to
the philologist, furnishing often a richer choice of terms, a
greater variety of phrases, and a wider range of structure,
than is possible for any other modern tongue. That this
structure pertains to its form alone is true, but the form inl
this instance happens to furnish large capacities for the embodiment and expressions of a rich and manifold material.
This material is rich and manifold, chiefly, because its people have been free, have been bold in thought, and earnest
in feeling. They have been moved and stirred by the
largest spirit of adventure in commerce, in war, in colonizing, and in self-government. They have had an intense
religious spirit, manifested in a sufficieht variety of forms,
and inspiring to fervent faith, to martyr-like boldness, and
to consistent and heroic self-denial. They have had earnest political struggles for the crown and against the crown
— for the liberty of the commons, and the traditional rights
of the people, and for the divine right of kings, and the
dignity of the royal prerogative.  They have had sacred
285




286              Boolks and Rectaci Tg.     [CrAP. XVIII.
and happy homes,-fireside enjoyments hallowed by domestic love, and made doubly sacred and dear by ancestral recollections. They have had exhaustless and irrepressible
humor-au inborn love of noisy hilarity, an infinitude of
original characters to provoke this humor, and inspire the
songs of a people ever ready to be excited to uproarious
merrimlent.  They have had a free press-a free pulpit,
and free newspapers, in spite of occasional censorship,
packed juries, and venal judges.
If we trace the history and characteristics of this literature we may well be amazed at its varied riches, and be
excited to avail ourselves of its inviting stores by a more
earnest as well as a more critical use of its ample resources.
We begin with Chaucer.  In the Canterbury Tales we
have a worthy counterpart to the Odyssey, giving as they
do, a graphic and varied picture of the many-sided life,
and the strongly marked characteristics which, even at this
yery early period, were manifest among the English people. Indeed we could not desire a more satisfactory illustration of the truth and justice of all that we have said of
literature as a field for the study of history, than is furnished in these tales of Chaucer.  The attentive reader
cannot fail to observe how eminently true it is that the
times illustrate the author and the author illustrates- his
times; how, through these tales, we have a direct insight
into the manners and the sentiments, the customs and the
philosophy of our ancestors, as they were, and as they lived
some five hundred years ago. We have only to look
through this maglc show glass, and we are transported back
to the very scenes which were then transacted, and those
early times live again before our eyes. It is not a lifeldss
chronicle which we read, it is not a grave description, not
a careful analysis, not a logical generalization, such as the
annalist and the historian furnish.  It is not even an historical novel in which a writer of a later period has endea



CHAP. XVIII.] The Criicism of English Literature.   237
vored to recreate the times as he conceived them, but it is
an unconscious painter of the men and the manners with
which he was conversant. How strong and bold-hearted
were those'Men, how natural their manners,-how brave
and sincere, how humorous and tender-hearted, how beneficent and devout were the sentiments which they express.
After a long and somewhat dreary interval, we come to
the age of Shakspeare, and not to the age of Shakspeare
alone, but to that of Spencer and Sidney, and Raleigh, and
Hooker, and Bacon, and Ben Jonson, and the train of dramatists of whom Jonson was the representative and the head.
We call this truly the golden age of English literature,
and we ask what agencies could have produced such writers
as these? We find our answer-first in the original force
of the English stock, that under all the burdens of royal
and churchly oppression, had never been corrupted or
crushed, but had held its own in the halls of the gentry,
the farm-houses of the yeomen, and the cottages of the
laborers. This vital force was marvellously aroused by
the Protestant Reformation, and when after many struggles,
a'Protestant Queen had come to the throne, it experienced,
as it were, a thrill of newly created energy. Foreign wars,
commercial adventures, romantic discoveries, all united to
keep this young life excited to its utmost tension, and to
move it by an inward ferment. The thoughts of men were
great in those times; their hopes were unbounded; their
feelings were fervent, their self-confidence was untrammeled; their power of expression was untamed. They had
at their command the language not as yet shaped by critics
or developed into any normal structure,-a fit instrument
for the young giants, rejoicing in their strength, who were
ready to use it, each as he would. Could the reader desire a study more inviting than that to which the literature
of those active and hopeful days invites him?  WThether
lie would study the authors or their times, or both together,




288           Boolks and Beading.        [CHAP. XVIII.
whether he would study the matter or the form of literature,-thought, sentiment, and imagery, on the one hand,
or diction, rhythm, and periodic power on the other,-he
could ask for nothing more exciting or more rewarding
than what is furnished here.
The age of Milton follows, and not of Milton only, bat
of Taylor and Sir Thomas Browne, of Baxter and Bunyan,
of Hobbes and Fuller. Here the English life-and with
it English literature-appears in other forms, more fixed,
and serious, and grave,-but with not a whit of its force
abated, nor aught of its fiery energy repressed. Imagination is still as soaring as ever, and the manifold and seeming exhaustless varieties of diction illustrate the resources
and the plastic capacities of the English language. This
period was marked for its political struggles and its religious strifes, for its intense feeling and its strong thinking;
for its ardent longings and its patient endurance, and
above all, for its faith in God and in man; and all these
influences shaped the literature, as the literature helped to
form the period.
The age of Dryden followed, and not'of Dryden only,
but of SQuth, and Locke, and Boyle, and Newton. It was
a tamer period, in which accuracy of thought,'and exactness
of language, and symmetry and conciseness of style, and
repression of feeling, and caution in imagery, were all conspicuous. It was an age of repression and of criticism, as
was natural after the real and imagined excesses of principle and feeling which had characterized the times of the
Commonwealth,-an age in which religion declined and immorality was less restrained-an age of free thinking and
unbelief which were scarcely held in check by the efforts of
Locke and Boyle. With an age thus characterized by the
life of the people, the literature of the period sympathized.
First of all, it was the period in which the modern and the
better English style was developed and fixed-pre-enui



CHAP. XVIII.]  The Criticism of English Literature.    289
nently by Dryden. Next criticism itself was first applied
with systematic aims and definite results. In this Dryden
was also conspicuous.  With more accurate thinking and
careful writing, there were not wholly lost the fire of feeling
and the splendor of imagination which had distinguished
the earlier periods.
Then followed the age of Pope, and not of Pope alone,
but also of Addison, Swift and Shaftesbury, and these were
closely followed by Bishops Butler, Berkeley and Warburton, by De Foe, Richardson, Fielding and Smollett. It was
an age in no wise distinguished for earnestness or for faith, an
age of conventionalities, gaiety, and frivolity, an age of free
living, and of free thinking, an age in which satire and
sneering criticism would be likely to flourish, and in which
both were abundant. As was the life, such was the literature of the period, with here and there an exception. For
the ease and felicity of its prose diction, and for the correctness and smoothness of its verse to the ear —it has been
called the Augustan age of English literature, but the perfection of form to which it brought this literature scantily
compensated for the loss of those higher qualities by which
the earlier periods had been distinguished.
In the latter half of the same century there was a change
for the better. This was the period of Johnson, and of
Burke, of Thomson, Goldsmith, and Cowper. The national life grew more serious. The lower classes had been
moved to greater religious earnestness by Wesley, WVhitefield, and others. The higher were tired by the emptiness and dissoluteness, by the heartlessness and frivolity
of the generations before them,-there was a longing after
better things, and to this longing the literature of the
period gave expression in manifold signs.
Then came the French Revolution, filling many hopeful and sanguine spirits with ardent enthusiasm, and stirring their minds with inquiries which led to profounder
19




290              Books and Reading.         [CHAP. XVIII.
studies of the principles of moral, political, and theological truth-then the inevitable reaction, involving strong
repressive measures, and dividing society into angry sections,-then the long and costly wars of the allies, and the
exciting career of the first Napoleon. All these movements in English thought, attended, as they were, by the
corrupt demoralization of the court and example of the
last of the Georges, were reflected in English literature as
it presents itself in the first thirty years of the present century. This is the period of Scott and Burns, of Byron and
Shelley, of Coleridge and Southey, of Wordsworth and
Wilson, of Macaulay and Hallam, of Jeffrey and Mackintosh. Literature is sharply divided into opposing schools
-expressing the divided sentiment and opinion of the
English nation. Foremost among them is that catholic
and comprehensive school which dared to free itself from
the fashion of the day in both thought and diction, and to
go back to the English writers of the earlier periods,
and to vindicate Shakspeare, and Milton, and Hooker,
and Bacon, from the neglect into which they had fallen.
More than all, this school dared to vindicate for itself the
liberty to use all the resources of the English language, as
well as to sound all the depths of English thought and feeling after the ancient ways. While in one direction, as
with Byron, literature is passionate and Satanic, and in
another, as with Shelley, it is blasphemous and atheistic;
while in Scott it is brilliantly romantic; while with Hallam and Mackintosh it is solidly earnest; with Coleridge,
Wordsworth, Southey, and Wilson, it is more'thoughtful
and affectionate, it is mindful of nature and of God, and
above all it dares to be true to whatever is best in human character and aspiration. With this school and its
awakened interest in all the older literature, there arose
also the spirit of historical and philosophical criticism,
which has very largely contributed to the many-sided, and




CHAP.xvIII.] iThe Criticism of English Literature.  291
in general, the elevated literature of the present generation. Of this recent literature we need not write, for to
attempt to characterize it would lead us beyond our limits.
This English literature is our heritage, and to study it
should be our delight and occupation. That it may be a
delight, it must be, in some sense, an occupation. If we
are to judge of it in a truly critical spirit,-if we are to
understand historically its authors and the times in which
they lived-if we are to judge of it philosophically, and to
read intelligently its graver writers of the past, or the
more novel and fresher of the present,-we must read it
earnestly and comprehensively; we must make it our
study-not a study that is painful or repulsive.-but one
that is patient, systematic, and earnest.
English literature when once it has become a familiar
field of intelligent study, brings this advantage, that it is a
field which the student will never be able and never will
desire to desert.  To him who has learned to read aright,
every week will bring some fresh tale, or poem, or essay,
or history; every season will introduce some fresh author,
summoning the reader to a new feast of delight, which
will be none the less keenly enjoyed, because it is enjoyed
with a chastened taste, and is judged with critical appreciation. All the life-long, amid its cares and its sorrows,
its employments and its leisure, there will be at hand a
capacity and a taste for those satisfying and elevating pleasures,-which instruct while they delight,-which lead us
upwards to heaven, while they make us content with theearth. No class of habits that are purely intellectual can
possibly enter so largely into our happiness for life, as
those habits of reading with discrimination and with ardor,
which are formed by abundant studies in the history and
criticism of English literature.
The appliances for such studies are ample and accessible,




292            Books and Reading.           [CHAP. XVIII.
and they are likely constantly to increase. We have R.
Chambers' Cyclopedia of English Literature, which is furnished with separate biographical sketches of the leading
English authors, and sufficiently copious extracts from their
works. This may serve as a convenient guide and reference book, after which to mark and map out one's journey.
Dr. G. L. Craik's compendious History of English Literature and of the English Language from  the Norman Conquest, is more learned and critical, while it is unequal in its
character, some portions being skillfully and carefully
written, and others being hastily and superficially sketched.
Its estimates of authors and its tone are in general very
candid and judicious. Abraham  Mills' Literature and
Literary Men of Great Britain and Ireland is a well considered and trustworthy book. H. Morley's two volumes,
English Writers before Chaucer, From  Chaucer to Dunbar, are far more learned, and the work when complete
bids fair to be an encyclopedia of learned criticism in the
literature of England. S. A. Allibone's Critical Dictionary of English Literature and British and American Authors
is at once the most extensive and complete reference book
for facts and dates and critical estimates, that can be found
in any language. Special editions of the earlier poets,
as Chaucer and Spencer, are now accessible; also of single
poems and plays of the earlier writers, which are designed
for school purposes, and for the general reader.  Cheap
reprints of the best single works of the older writers, as
Arber's Reprints and The Bayard Series promise to diffuse more extensively a taste for reading of this kind, by
making it possible for every one to gratify it. The publications of the earlier English- Text Society are doing the
same service for scholars. B. Tauchnitz's Five Centuries
of English Literature is a very instructive selection. J. P.
Collier's Early English Literature is critical and able. E.
A. and S. L. Duykinck's Cyclopedia of American Litera



CHAP. XVIII.] The Criticism of English Literatare.    293
ture is carefully and faithfully prepared, and is a classical
work of reference and authority.  C. D. Cleveland's Manuals, entitled A  Compendium of English Literature, English Literature of the 19th Century, and A Compendium of
American Literature, as well as his edition of Milton's Poetical Works with a verbal index, are very convenient and
useful books, which are wisely used in many seminaries,
and are good substitutes for the more bulky works of reference which we have cited. Thomas B. Shaw's Complete
Manual of English Literature, with a volume of-selections
from English authors, may be confidently recommended as
compact and well prepared volumes; also Wm. Spalding's
History of English Literature.  The same is true of Angus's Hand-book of English Literature, and Specimens of
English Literature.  Prof. Henry N. Day's Introduction to
English Literature may be safely trusted as scholarly and
ingenious. Thomas Arnold's Manual of English Literature
Historical and Critical, is a solid and judicious history, such
as we should expect from a son of the genial and loving
critic who was once master of Rugby. H. Hallam's Introduction to the Literature of Europe is always judicious
and often full in its notices of English authors. In all the
general Encyclopedias, the biography and bibliography and
criticism of English and American authors is usually copiously given.
In what is called the higher criticism of literature, as has
been already intimated, our own language is in some respects deficient. In others it is abundantly supplied. Sir
Philip Sydney's Defence of Poesie is worthy of a writer
who had a poet's phantasy and a critic's delicacy of discrimination. With the exception of Sydney,Dryden is the earliest critic who rose above the mere technics of form and
aimed to be at once just and genial, but Dryden's criticisms
are too brief and limited to render any satisfactory service.
Addison's Papers in The Spectator upon Milton's Paradise




294              Books and Reading.        [CHAP. XVIII.
Lost are examples of a well intended attempt to attain to
something higher in criticism than could easily be achieved
in those times. Samuel Johnson was an omnivorous as well
as an appreciative reader and a discriminating critic. His
Lives of the Poets, his remarks upon writers in the Rambler, and his familiar talks concerning them which are
recorded by Boswell are fraught with good sense and not
wanting in discrimination, but his comprehension of the
aims of criticism was limited, and his standard was in many
respects conventional. The so-called British Essayists contain more or less of criticism upon standard and current
orators, which certainly did not rise above that of Johnson
and Addison.  The Gentleman's Magazine and the other
monthlies, with Dodsley's Annual Register neither aimed
at, nor attained to anything better.
The establishment of the Quarterly Reviews within the
present century gave a powerful impulse to the critical examination of books and the critical study of literature,
opening as they did an opportunity for some of the ablest
critics of their time, to express their opinions upon the leading authors of the day. The time of the establishment of
the first was nearly coincident with the awakening in
Great Britain of the new and better criticism, and these reviews were at once the cause and the effect of this awakened spirit. Sir Francis Jeffrey, Sidney Smith, Sir James
Mackintosh, Lord Brougham, Lord Macaulay, Robert
Southey, and Sir Walter Scott, Sir James Stephen and
many others have contributed critical papers of surpassing
ability to some one of the leading British Reviews. But
most of these reviews were conducted in a political as well
as a literary spirit, and many of their best critical papers
are written in a tone that is ambitious of smartness and
effect in the forms of expression, rather than of justice and
candor in their estimates of authors and their works.
In later years this partisan feeling has been greatly




CxAP. XVIII.]  The Criticism of En glish Literature.   295
softened, and many of the critical papers in these reviews
have been composed in the spirit of eminent fairness and
honor. A general feeling of homage to public justice has
gained a strong hold of many of the leading minds in England and America, and the trenchant and slashing character of a review does not always save its injustice and partiality from general reprobation; much less does it command as formerly almost universal praise. While it is true
that at present the leading English Quarterlies do not
maintain that exclusive prominence in the field of criticism
which they formerly held, they are still very ably conducted
and contain many papers of masterly superiority from the
foremost men of the present time.
The better criticism of England and America, as we
have already explained, was either inspired from Germany,
or it grew up with that interest in German literature
which forced the English critics to confess that in some
things England might learn from the continent. The
writings of the Schlegels were early translated and read in
the English language. Previous to this time, however,
Wordsworth had written the profound, and in many respects, just criticisms upon Poetry which are found in his
prefaces, appendix and postscript to the earlier editions of
his Lyrical Ballads. Coleridge also, soon began to astonish
the literary world by his public lectures upon Shakspeare,
and by the bold and comprehensive criticisms which are
to be found in his Biographia Literaria, and his occasional
contributions to periodical literature. His conversations
with many of the leading writers and critics of his time,
were stimulating and attractive, and did much to create a
new school of sympathetic and enlightened admirers for the
best, and till then, much neglected older English writers.
The Retrospective Review, a quarterly devoted exclusively
to the criticism and history of the earlier English writers
exercised a powerful influence for good. The series is an in



296               Books and Beading.       [caAP. xvlIr.
valuable acquisition to English critical literature. Walter
Savage Landor, in his Imaginary Conversations, taught a
few select but admiring readers what it is to seek to put
one's self in the place of a great writer and a great mind
of another nation, and of other times. Prof. John Wilson,
better known as Christopher North, invested criticism itself, with the dignity and interest of original creation, by
filling his Noctes Ambrosiance, and other papers in Blackwood's Magazine with the most enthusiastic and genial
criticisms that ever proceeded from an English pen. W.
Hazlitt, in spite of his prejudices, gave many examples of
a discriminating appreciation of the older and of contemporaneous writers. Leigh Hunt did the same with a far
more loving spirit. Mrs. Jameson wrote a whole theory
or the varieties of female character in her criticisms of the
female personages of Shakspeare, entitled Characteristics
of Women. Thomas Carlyle almost began his literary life
by a delightful article on Burns, in the Edinburgh Review,
in which, for once, he wrote English as other people do.
Thomas De Quincey through his multitudinous papers of
a critical and gossiping character, has done much to stimulate and to gratify interest and curiosity in the literary men
of his times. Hartley Coleridge has, if possible, surpassed
his father in his sagacious and well-balanced, yet warm
and hearty judgments of his favorite authors. Thackeray's
Lectures on English Humorists has the double merit of
opening a new vein and working it successfully. The
elder D'Israeli has done not a little to interest the public
in literature and in authors by the miscellaneous contributions contained in his Curiosities of Literature, his Amenities
of Literature, and his more methodical essay on the
Literary  Character.  N. Drake's Essays, Memorials of
Shakspeare, and Shakspeare and his Times, are worth
consulting, at least, as showing one step in the transition
to a better style of criticism. Meanwhile, the excellent




CHAP. XVIII.  The Criticism of English Literature.    297
work upon Shakspeare of the estimable and industrious
Hermann Ulrici has been made known to the English people. Goethe has been extensively read by English littgrateurs who have imbibed his spirit, and been taught by his
example. The extensive school of German historians and
critics of their patron literature, has also become familiar
to not a few English and Americans, and inspired them
with a laudable desire to imitate their example in dealing
with their own writers.
The French have also taught something in respect to
criticism.  The comprehensive work of H. Taine upon
English Literature, and his other works of art-criticism
are genial, and almost recreative. The appreciative and
subtle, the acute yet always civilized St. Beuve has enforced by abundant and attractive examples, the impression
of what criticism  may and ought to become. Matthew
Arnold has inculcated these same lessons in his Essays ort
Criticism; Culture and Anarchy; On the Study of Celtic
Literature better sometimes by his precepts than by his own
practice. Interesting examples of what criticism may and
ought to be are to be found in the Hours with the MJystics by
the lamented R. A. Vaughan, in the Prefaces and notes of
Henry Taylor, as well as in his Notes on Books, and in the
Dublin Afternoon Lectures upon Literature and Art which
have now reached their fifth annual volume. Indeed there
are few volumes in the English language which are better
fitted to inspire and instruct the student of literature and
of criticism, than the volumes of this series, or which deserve to be more generally known. Prof. David Masson is
deserving of especial notice for his excellent volume The
British Novelists, etc., to which we have previously referred.
His Life of Milton, of which one volume only has been
published, is a mine of critical and historical research on
its illustrious subject and his times. His Recent British
Philosophy is a contribution to literary as well as philoso



298              Books and Reading.      [CHAP. XVIII.
phical criticism. Prof. J. C. Shairp's Studies in Poetry
and Philosophy are genial and discriminating. E. S. Dallas, under the enigmatical title of The Gay Science, has
published a work, which though it contains many caprices
and oddities, is yet of rare interest so far as it treats of
the principles which are fundamental to the critical enjoyment of literature.  F. W. Newman On Homeric
Translation and Matthew Arnold's papers on the same
topic, are instructive and stimulating. F. W. Newman's
MAiscellanies contains a series of Lectures on Poetry to which
we have referred.  guesses at Truth, The Oxford, Cambridge and Edinburgh Essays, Peter's Letters to his Kinsfolk, Dr. J. Brown's Horce Subsecive —better known
among us as Spare fHours-contain much that is suggestive
and inspiring to the critic. To a very large extent the
Biographies of literary men include criticisms on their'works and those of their contemporaries, and some of the
most interesting criticisms in the language are found in
the familiar letters of distinguished persons concerning the
works and authors of the season and the week while each
was the novelty of the hour.
In the United States, literary activity has to a large extent taken the form of literary criticism. We have had
critics of the old school and of the new. Among those of
the old are the prominent contributors to the North American Review, as Alexander and Edward Everett, the
brothers W. B. 0. and 0. W. B. Peabody, also Rev. Professor A. P. Peabody, Prescott the historian, George Ellis, Francis Bowen, and scores of others. Of the new
or modern school the following are prominent: Henry
Reed, Horace Binney Wallace, Orestes A. Brownson, Margaret Fuller Ossoli, George Ripley, H. T. Tuckerman,
E. P. Whipple, Richard Grant White, Henry N. Hudson and James Russell Lowell. Mr. Reed is conspicuous for his labors on Wordsworth and Shakspeare



CHAP. xvIIr.] The Criticism of English Literature.    299
Mr. Wallace for his spirited criticisms upon art and philosophy-Mr. Ripley for the very elaborate and genial literary notices which have formed so conspicuous a feature
in the New York Tribune for so many years-Mr. Brownson for the trenchant and aggressive review which was for
so many years sustained by his name-Margaret Fuller
Ossoli for an enthusiasm which was almost genius-Mr.
Tuckerman for the faithful and patient labor which has
been bestowed on so many literary and art topics-Mr.
Whipple for the careful research and elaboration of his
analyses and delineations, especially those in his Lectures
on the Literature of the Age of Elizabeth-Mr. Hudson for
his knowledge of, and his enthusiasm for Shakspeare and
his vigorous way of putting his thoughts-Mr. White for
his many explorations into curious literary facts, and his
nice discriminations-Mr. Lowell for his masterly though
personal Fable for Critics, as also for his discriminating
and kindling literary papers. We have by no means
named all who deserve notice, but these may suffice. The
reader who has followed us thus far, will have learned still
farther to seek and find for himself, and to judge what
he requires better than we can judge for him.
We ought not in this connection to omit all notice of the
history and criticism of the Fine Arts, inasmuch as a critical
interest in Art is nearly allied to a taste for literature.
The standard English authors in English literature before
the days of Ruskin and the Germans, were Alison on
Taste, Burke On the Sublime and Beautiful, Price On the
Picturesque, Sir Joshua Reynolds' Discourses, Horace
Walpole's Anecdotes of Painting, Lanzi's History of
Painting, Vasari's Lives of the Painters, Fuseli's Sculptors and Architects, and Hogarth's Analysis of Beauty.
But since the German criticism began to make itself felt
in Art as well as Literature, we have J.Wincklemann's History of Ancient Art, C. O. Miiller's Ancient Art and its




300              Books and Reading.        [CHAP.XVIII.
Remains, F. T. Kugler's Hand-book of Painting, (German,
-Flemish, and Dutch Schools),also Hand-book of Painting
in Italy.  More recently W. Liibke's History of The
Arts, J. Ferguson's Illustrated History of Architecture,
J. H. Parker's Glossary of Terms of Architecture, all of
the last four being abundantly illustrated, Following in
the footsteps of the Germans we have A. W. Lindsay's
Sketches of Christian Art, Mrs. Jameson's Memoirs of
Early Italian Painters, Sacred and Legendary Art, hIistory of our Lord in TWorks of Art, C. L. Eastlake's Contributions to the Literature of the.Fine Arts and other kindred works. We ought not to omit to name Dunlap's History of the Arts of Design in the United States and H. T.
Tuckerman's Book of The Artists; nor G. W. Samson'3q
Art Criticism and S. Spooner's Art Dictionaroy.
Since John Ruskin first took the modern world by
storm in his lllodern Painters, and began to follow the first
impression by a succession of stimulating volumes, the
subject of art and criticism generally has been invested
with new interest to a multitude of readers who never
thought before earnestly concerning either. There is little
danger that a very considerable number of Ruskin's readers
will adopt his theories in full, or would be injured by them
if they should. The exciting, and at the same time elevating character of all his writings, has been acknowledged with enthusiastic appreciation by the great number
of readers who feel that they have been wisely taught by
him many valuable lessons in the observation of nature as
well as in their judgments of art and literature.  His
works or selections from them, cannot be too warmly recommended for their moral as well as their zesthetic excellence. Nlow and then a young person may be overborne
and swallowed up by Ruskin, but there are very few who
hlave read him with ardor who have not been greatly benefited.




C aaP. XVIII.] The Criticism of English History.  301
Books on the English Language, and on language in
general deserve a passing notice in this place inasmuch as
reading on these subjects comes legitimately within the
scope of the general title of this chapter. The number of
school grammars is well nigh boundless, and among them
there is a great variety in respect of excellence. Of Philosophical Grammars of the English language there is a lamentable deficiency. It is in the German language only that we
find those which are at all satisfactory and truly scientific.
The works of R. G. Latham, and the grammar of W. C.
Fowler are perhaps the best. George P. Marsh's Lectures
on the English Language and Origin and l1istory of the
English Language, stand prominent as treatises adopted for
general reading. R. C. Trench On the Study of IFords,
English Past and Present, and Select Glossary of English
Words are instructive and popular books. W. Swinton's
Rambles among Words, and Schele De Vere's Studies in
English are books which excite and gratify curiosity. The
attention which has everywhere been given to the study of
Anglo-Saxon and of the early English, promises to yield
large contributions to this class of works.
In General Philology, which is a subject that interests
very many general readers, the following books may be
named: Max Miiller's Lectures on Language, Uhi4psfrom a
German Workshop, W. D. WVhitney's Language and the
Study of Language, F. W. Farrar On the Origin of Language, B. W. Dwight's Modern Philology, and J. Stoddart's Glossology. The study of words in their general
aspects and of language is very nearly akin to literary
criticism, and careful and critical attention to the style of
the authors we read, is itself a most important means of
culture, as well as a source of high enjoyment. For this
reason such works as Dean Alford's The Queen's English7,
C. W. Moon's Bad English and the Dean's -English, and
E. S. Gould's Good English are well worth reading. The




3G2             Books and Reading.        [CHAP. xvIITr.
habit of consulting an English Dictionary in reading is not
maintained as commonly as it should be by intelligent
persons. No single habit is at once so eminently the cause
and the indication of careful attention to the language
which we use, and an efficient training to the best kind of
culture. It involves daily and hourly criticism of the use
of an instrument which cannot be correctly and felicitously
applied without accurate and careful thinking and active
and refined sensibility.




CHAPTER XIX.
BOOKS OF SCIENCE AND DUTY.
PHILOSOPHICAL and ethical reading next claim our attention, and those books which aim to enlarge or confirm
our convictions of Truth or to convince and incite us with
respect to Duty.  We use the words philosophical and
ethical in a very liberal sense-to define all those works
whether longer or shorter, whether graver or less serious,
which have for their direct object conviction or action in
the light of permanent principles, in contradistinction from
those books which narrate facts or address the imagination.
WVe do not include Theological and Religious reading, but
reserve these for a separate chapter.  We exclude all books
and reading in technical or special science, because our design contemplates only a general course-of reading, and because, for obvious reasons, the teachers and manuals of the
several sciences may be relied on to direct to courses of
special and technical study.
We begin with the sciences of Nature, i. e., physical nature-for we hold that the universe of Nature includes the
spiritual as truly as the material, and that it is inaccurate to
restrict the word nature to matter, whether it be hard matter or soft matter, whether it be solid and fixed as adamant or as impalpable and evanescent as the most diffused and diffusible of the gases. Most of the books
upon these sciences which are of the highest authority are
necessarily technical.  They require careful study and
exact knowledge.  Of these standard treatises there is a
very large number, and they are eonstantly displacin[g one




304            Books and Reading.            [CHAP. XIX.
another, with the very progress of science itself. A few
books only come within the range and scope of our discussion, but these few  should not be omitted.  For the
general reader Alexander von Humboldt's Cosmos is the
best single book which gives what was known concerning
the physical universe or was regarded as established by
scientific methods and scientific.evidence, at the time when
the illustrious author finished the work which was so
splendid afinale to his laborious life. This work is very
concisely written and is often abstract and technical, but it
will well repay slow and careful reading. The History of
the progress of the sciences of nature, to the man of philosophical tastes is in the highest degree exciting and instructive, especially when followed in the more recent stages
of their rapid and brilliant development. William Whewell's History of the Inductive Sciencesfrom the earliest to
the present time, is the best if not the only compendious
work upon this general topic which is accessible. It meets
all the wants of the general reader up to the time when it
was written; J. F. W. Herschell's Preliminary Discourse
on the Study of Natural Philosophy, is a clear and popular
position of the methods of studying nature and of the
grounds of our confidence in the processes of induction.
W. Whewell's Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences, afterwards re-wrought and published under the title of History
of Scientific Ideas, etc., is much more ambitiously metaphysical and entirely beyond the reach of the general reader.
John Stuart Mill's System of Logic Ratiocinat've and Inductive, treats in Book Third of the processes and laws of
induction, more carefully and exhaustively than any other
work.  The defective philosophical system  taught in it
diminishes very little from its practical value. The substance of Mill's work may be found in abridgements, as W.
Stebbing's Analysis of Mill's Logic, and T. Fowler's Elements of Inductive Logic.  L. Agassiz's Essay on Classifi



CHAP. XIx.]    Books of Science and Duty.         305
cation is a treatise often referred to in respect to the philosophy of the inductive processes. His Methods of Stud!y
in Natural iHistory, and Geological Sketches are at once
popular and scientific. Arnold Guyot's Earth and Man
comes within our rule, for though it treats in special of
physical geography it discusses it very largely in its general
relations to the history and development of the race.
Many of the writings of the lamented Hugh Miller are
very attractive to the unscientific reader, even when they
are strictly technical, for the interest with which they invest
physical research and the light they throw upon its processes. The same is true of many of the writings of Sir
Humphrey Davy, Sir Charles Bell, of Richard Owen,
Michael Faraday, and J. F. Tyndall. It is to be borne
in mind that the press is literally oppressed by tile number
of superficial books in which the attempt is made to popularize science and to set forth its relations to the imagination and to faith. To uninstructed minds and to those
who have only a smattering of knowledge many of these
writings are attractive just in proportion to their superficialness and pretension. The style in which they are
written is often vicious and inflated, and overloaded with
tawdry ornaments. It is not wise either to trust the science
taught in such books or to follow the imaginative flights
to which they would exalt and inspire, unless their authors
are known among scientific men to be men of requisite
knowledge and of sound judgment. Although the physical sciences are in their nature severe and in their requisitions exacting, they afford the amplest room for all grades
of sciolists and pretenders as well as the widest range for
every species of imaginative romancing. Science run mad
is the maddest and the most uncontrollable of all forms of
madness, as the steadiest and most trustworthy of horses is
the most stiff-headed and unmanageable when he goes off
in a fright or indulges in an escapade. It is a safe
20




306              Books and Reading.         [CHAP. XIX.
rule not to waste one's time or money on any of these pretentious travesties of scientific truth, or works of science poetically treated. Among standard books of science in. general and on some of the special sciences, may be named,
Mary Somerville's The Connection of the Physical Sciences, The Mechanism of the Heavens, and Physical Geography, L. Euler's Lett:rs on Natural Philosophy, D.
Olmsted's Letters on Astronomy, E. Loomis's Progress of
Astronomy, J. Liebig's Familiar Letters on Chemistry, J.
P. Cooke's Religion and Chemistry, G. P. Marsh's Man
and Nature, J. F. Tyndall's I-eat as a mode af Motion,
Sound, H. F. Roscoe's Spectrum Analysis, E. L. Youmans', (edr.) Correlation and Conservation of Forces, E. F.
Burr's Ecce Celunm.
Natural History differs from Natural Science, in that it
is limited to descriptive classifications of living things and
beings, and excludes reasoned theories of the laws and principles of the inorganic agencies and elements of the physical
universe. The reading of works of this description is usually fascinating to children and youth, and should be cultivated assiduously in order to stimulate to the careful study
of Botany and Zoology as the powers of observation are
matured. In all these branches of study, as in Geology,
we have manuals and authors of the highest rank and trustworthiness, as L. Agassiz, J. D. Dana, A. Gray and A. A.
Gould, and many others. That observation of Nature
which is within the reach of every person of active mind
and curious tastes may be greatly stimulated by reading
such books as Gilbert White's Natural History of Selborne, W. Howitt's Book of the Seasons, G. B. Emerson's
Forests and Shrubs of Massachusetts, Samuel's Birds of New
Eqngland, T. L. Harris' Insects of lliassachusetts, L. H.
Morgan's The American Beaver, J. G. Wood's Illustrated
Natural History, etc., all which are attractive and trustworthy. Such works as those of J. L. Michelet, The.Bird,




CHAP. XIx.-    Boos of Science and )uty.        307
and the many prepared by L. Figuier-those published in
The Library of Wonders from the French, The Universe by
L. A. Pouchet, never cease to attract and reward the
reader, whether young or old, and- they render a most important service when they stimulate a family of children,
especially if they have a home in the country, to use their
eyes and ears in the observation of nature. If rightly
used they furnish the happiest illustration of the remarks
which we have made, that reading becomes most interesting
and instructive when it is interpreted by, as well as when
it directs the employments and amusements of the daily
life.
We are reminded by this of the important use which
may be made of books and reading by those who cultivate
the soil. The old and stupid prejudice against 1"bookfarming" has almost entirely passed away. No person
who reads this volume will be likely to retain the least
remnant of it. A sense of the value of agricultural books
and periodicals is now generally diffused throughout the
community. It were difficult to decide what are the best
books upon the many topics comprehended under this extensive department. Every part of the country has those
which are thought to be the best. Every leading journal
and newspaper is usually interested in certain favorite
writers. Should we attempt to furnish a select list which
might be approved for the present year, it would probably
be soon displaced in part in the year following. The list
which we subjoin has been carefully studied by a competent and discriminating authority who is endorsed by an
author who stands high in favor with the farming as well
as with the literary world. S. W. Johnson, How Crops
Grow. How Crops Feed. G. E. Waring, Draining foar
Profit. J. J. Thomas, Farm Iaplements. A. Gray, Field,
Garden and Forest Botany. W. Darlington, American
Weeds and Useful Plants. C. L. Flint, Grasses and For



308             Books and Reading.        [CHAP. XIX.
age Plants.  F. Burr, Field and Garden Vegetables of
America. P. Henderson, Gardening for Profit. J. J.
Thomas, Fruit Culturist. G. Husman, Grapes and Wine
Alaking.  A. S. Fuller, Small Fruit Calturist.  J. A.
Hoopes, Forest Tree Culturist.  Book of Evergreens. F.
Parkman,Book of Roses. E. S. Rand, Jr. Bulbs.  Seventy-five Flowers. S. Tenney,Natural History. R. L. Allen,Domestic Animals. C. L. Flint,Milch Cows and Dairy
Farming.  H. W. Herbert, Hints to Horse-keepers. W.
Youatt, The Horse. Harris, On the Pig. H. S. Randall],
The Prictical Shepherd.  T. W. Harris,Insects of Mfiassachusetts. A. J. Downing, Landscape Gardening.  L. L.
Langstroth, The Hive and Honey Bee.  D. G. Mitchell,
21y Farm at Edgewood.  Wet Days at Edgewood.
From Agriculture to Psychology and Speculative Philosophy seems a long stride. It is a wide leap which carries us from the most concrete to the most abstract of
topics. And yet the stride is by no means so long, nor
the leap so wide as would appear at first view. The culture of the earth forces us to consider life in the plant and
the animal, and we find ourselves before we know it ascending from the soil and the clod into the fascination and
mystery of that life which nature sustains by the earth and
from the air. The study of life carries us up to finer and
more subtle processes and powers so that before we are
aware, we are confronted by the presence of spirit with its
wondrous capacities and gifts and its still more wonderful
intuitions and beliefs. The analysis of these implicates
us in psychological inquiries and metaphysical researches.
Ethical principles spring out of the soul's inner being, and
conscience and duty are seen to be clothed with authority
by the soul and to be enforced by all the indications and
utterances of the universe. God himself looks out upon
us from all the windows of heaven and is felt by us to be




CHAP. XIX.]    Books of Science and Duty.        309
the strength and stability of the fabric of Nature and the
institutions of human society.
The mental and moral sciences are often abstruse, but
they are not technical and special as are the so-called
sciences of Nature, for the reason that the principles and
facts with which they have to do are more within the reach
of common minds and have a nearer relation to many of
the higher interests and feelings of the race. They i'equire
less technical preparation in special studies, and hence are
more accessible to the judgment and interest of any thoughtful and studious person. An intelligent reader, it is true,
is not likely to be destitute of curiosity respecting mechanics
or astronomy.. But he is still less likely to be devoid of
interest in those speculations which concern the nature of
the soul, the sanctions of conscience, the rights and duties
of men, the limitations of government and the destiny of
the race. All men as soon as they begin to reflect, begin
a course of metaphysical activity whether they know or
not, and many a plain man whose reading is very limited
is ready to be aroused to excited interest in speculative
studies and in the history of such inquiries as conducted
by others. Wherever men have been made earnest thinkers
by theological discussions, political excitements or moral
revolutions, there has it been uniformly true that the subject matter of speculative and moral philosophy has
awakened a profound and excited interest in the minds of
the common men of the community. A great social convulsion, like the so-called Great Rebellion of 1640, the
English Revolution of 1688, the American Revolution of
1776, the French Revolutions of 1789 and 1848, or our
own Civil War of 1861, forces even the ignorant and unthinking to fall back upon the ultimate principles of political and social obligation and to discuss them with excited
interest. It turns a nation of farmers and artisans into a
school of acute and disputatious philosophers. The din of




310             Books and Rcading.         [CnaP. SIX.
preparation for physical conflict in the field is usually interspersed with the hum of excited if not angry discussion and
debate. The questions of the suffrage of women,of blacks
and whites, of natives and foreigners, cannot be settled
without an intelligent reference to the principles of ethical
and political philosophy. The occurrence of strikes, the
organization of trades unions, the demands of the laborer,
and the retorts of the employer force all parties to examine
the doctrines and definitions of political and social science.
Earnest religious excitements and controversies, whether
they end in faith or in unbelief, compel every man who is
interested, to a profound philosophical inquiry. All men
who think earnestly upon fundamental questions must so
far be philosophers. In this way is the fact to be explained, that plain and even unlettered men are so often
acute philosophical reasoners and are interested so profoundly in books and reading of a speculative character. This is
especially true in a country like ours, so receptive of ideas
and so quick to transmit them, all over which so many
persons of active minds are profoundly interested in great
practical questions and are finding themselves as constantly forced to decide these by a reference to fundamental
principles. Hence we explain the fact that there are multitudes of men making no pretence to extensive literary
culture who not only take a strong interest in books on
these subjects but are qualified to read and judge them
with intelligence and discrimination.'We do not consult
the wants of the learned class, but provide for the occasions of the general reader when we suggest a course of
reading in Philosophy.
We begin with the History tf Philosophy. W~hile there
is no general history inll the English language which meets
all the wants of the general reader there are several which
deserve to be named as worthy of perusal. F. D. Maurice's
History of lMoral and Metaplhysical Philosophy is perhaps




CUAP. XIX.]    Boolks of Science and Duty.        311
the most readable of any. A. Schwegler's History of Philosophy translated from the German by Prof. J. H.. Seelye,
and a later edition with large additions by J. H. Stirling, is
a very good brief manual. An Epitome of the History of
Philosophy from a French manual translated by Prof. C. S.
Hurny, which is published in Harper's Family Library,
is a convenient but rather dry book of reference. Mr. G.
H. Lewes' History of Philosophy is in some respects more
erudite and acute than the work of Mr. Maurice, but it is
written too decidedly in the negative spirit of the positive
school to inspire entire confidence, especially as it is a cardinal doctrine of this school that philosophical speculation is
vain and profitless. A translation from the very learned and
comprehensive manual of F. Ueberweg is now in course of
publication, from which much may be expected of accurate
statement and intelligible information. For modern philosophy J. D. Morell's Historical and Critical View of the
$Speculative Philosophy of Europe in the 19th Century is a
very comprehensive and convenient though not always satisfactory treatise. For the history of the modern German
Philosophy H. M. Chalybius's Historical Survey of Speculative Philosophy from Kant to Hegel is perhaps as good,
i. e. as intelligible an account as could be expected from
a German historian, of the progress of a series of speculations which are confusedly dark and abstruse. In ancient
philosophy in particular W. A. Butler's Lectures on the
History of Ancient Philosophy are the most satisfactory as
they are the most eloquent history which the language can
show. Mr. George Grote in his Hzstory of Greece gives a
very attractive sketch of Socrates and the Socratic school,
while in his very elaborate work on Plato, and the other
companions of Socrates, he has drawn out a carefill outline
of each of his works. Mr. Grote is in many cases unjust
to Plato, so far at least as he interprets and judges him by
the tenets of the narrow and superficial school of philoso



312             Books and Reading.         [CnAP. XIX.
phy to which he himself belongs. Mr. G. H. Lewes has
devoted a special volume to the contributions of Aristotle
to physical science. B. F. Cocker's Christianity and Greek
Philosophy is a valuable discussion of the themes and the
achievements of ancient speculation and a comparison of
both with those of modern thought and the positive teachings of Christianity. For the history of speculative philosophy in Great Britain nothing better can be named than
Dugald Stewart's General View of the Progress of Metaphysical, Ethical and Political Philosophy, which as was
natural is specially devoted to British metaphysicians, and
Sir James Mackintosh's General View of the Progress of
Ethical Philosophy. Both of these works are very incomplete and imperfect, though containing much valuable history and criticism. All mere histories of philosophy, are
necessarily unsatisfactory by reason of the narrow limits
within which the writer is confined. It not unfrequently
happens that these defects are supplemented by articles in
Encyclopedias or by special treatises of a biographical or
critical character.
Leaving the History of Philosophy and proceeding to
Philosophy itself, the general reader will find translations
of the following works ample for the direct knowledge
which they give of the teachings and modes of thinking of
the most distinguished of the ancient philosophers. W.
Whewell's Select Platonic Dialogues. R. W. Browne, Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics. T. Hobbes and T. Buckley's
Rhetoric and Poetics. Cicero's Offices, Letters, Tusculan
Disputations and De Finibus, translated by different writers; also the writings of Seneca, Epictetus, Antoninus and
the poet Lucretius. Coming to modern times we name
the following works as pre-eminently worthy to be read.
R. Descartes, lfeditations and Essay on Method. J. Locke's
Essay on the Human  Understanding, with V. Cousin's
Lectures on Locke, known in one translation as Cousin's




CHAP. XIx.]    Books of Science and Duty.        313
Psychology. T. E. Webb, The Intellectualism of Locke. D.
Hume, Philosophical Treatises.  G. Berkeley, The Minute
Philosopher; The,Principles of Human Knowledge. T.
Reid, Inquiry and Essays. T. Brown, Lectures on the
Philosophy of the Human Mind. Dugald Stewart, Phir
losophical Works., I. Kant, Critic of Pure Reason, translated by Meiklejohn. J. G. Fichte, The Science of Knowledge; The Destination of Man. Sir William Hamilton,
Lectures on Metaphysics and Logic, also Philosophical and
Literary Essays. H. Calderwood, Philosophy of the Infinite. H. L. Mansel, Limits of Religious Thought; The
Philosophy of the  Conditioned;  Prolegomena. Logica.
Godwin Smith, Letter to i. L. Hansel. J. H. Stirling,
The Secret of Heyel. J. S. Hartley's Observations on.iIan.
J. Mill, Analysis of the Human Mind. J. Mill, A System of Logic Ratiocinative and Inductive; Examination
of Sir William Hamilton's Philosophy.  J. M'Cosh, Examination of Mr. J. L. Mill's Philosophy, being a D)efence
of Fundamental Truth; Tle Intuitions of'the Humran
Mind, etc. J. F. Perrier, Institutes of Ifetaphysies. Herbert Spencer, First Principles, and Principles of Psychology. A. Bain, The Senses and the Intelleet; The Emotions and the Wtill; Mental and Mioral Science; A Cornpendium of Psychology and Ethics; Logic, Inductive and
Deductive. D. Masson, Recent,British Philosophy.  F.
Bowen, Essays. J. Martineau, Essays, Philosophical and
Theological. These works with the Histories of Philosophy and the numerous critical papers which many of them
have occasioned would give the reader a reasonable knowledge of the various schools of opinion which have prevailed in modern Philosophy.
Of Manuals of Psychology we name as in more or less
extensive use, those of T. C. Upham, F. Wayland, L. P.
Hickock, Dugald Stewart, Thomas Brown, Sir Williaml
Hamilton, J. Haven, A. Mahan, J. T. Champlin, N. Porter, J. Bascom and A. Bain.




314.      Books and Reading.        [CHAP. XIX.
To Psychology, Physiology has close relations because
of the intimate connection between the human body and
the human soul. The interest in this science has also of
late been greatly increased as the result of materialistic
views in respect to life and spirit. The study of life in any
of its forms is indeed the best introduction to the study of
spirit in any of its manifestations. W. B. Carpenter's
General Physiology and Human Physiology are very generally accepted as of the highest authority. They are
characterized by their encyclopediac character more than
by acuteness of discrimination, force of reasoning or
comprehensiveness of thought. J. Muller's Hutman Physiology is in all these respects incomparably the superior. Very able Manuals have been produced by E. C.
Dalton, W. Draper and T. H. Huxley. A more comprehensive treatise is in process of publication by A. Flint.
A brief and plausible argument for materialistic views may
be found in a tract by T. H. Huxley, The Physical Basis
of Life and a reply of great ability As regards Protoplasm
by J. H. Stirling.
Vegetable Physiology is usually treated in works upon
Botany. A. Gray's flow Plants grow, L. H. Grindon's
Phenomena of Plant Life, H. von Mohl, The Vegetable
Cell, J. Marcet's Vegetable Physiology, J. M. Schleiden's,
Tlhe Plant a Biography, C. Darwin's Origin of Species, P.
W. Roget's Animal and Vegetable Physiology are all works
of authority.
In Ethics the contributions to English literature are very
numerous, but are almost universally deficient in precision,
method and philosophical completeness. We name the
most significant writers, and they may be advantageously
read in connection with the following critical histories, J.
Mackintosh's Progress of Ethical Philosophy, W. Whewell's History of Moral Philosophy in England, R.
Blakey's History of Moral Secience, Th: Jouffroy's Intro



CHAP. XIX.]    Books of Science and Duty.        315
duction to Ethics. The leading writers are: T. Hobbes'
The Leviathan, R. Cudworth's Treatise concerning Eternal and Immutable Morality, R. Cumberland's De Legibus
Naturce, F. Hutcheson's Inquiry into the Origin of our
Ideas of Beauty and Virtue; Moral Philosophy, D. Hume,
Inquiry into the Principles of Morality, Jonathan Edwards', A Treatise on the Nature of True Virtue, R.
Price's Review of the Principal Questions in Morals, A.
Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments, W. Paley's Manual
of Moral and Political Philosophy, J. Bentham's Principles of Morals and Legislation; Deontology, J. S. Mill's
Essay on Utilitarianism, Alex. Smith's On the Philosophy
of Morals, I. Kant's Metaphysics of Ethics, (tr. from the
German), F. W. Cobbe's Essay on Intuitive Morals, an
eloquent exposition of the Kantian system, W. Adams'
Elements of Christian Science, S. S. Laurie's On the Philosophy of Ethics, M. Hopkins' Lowell Lectures, also Law
of Love and Love as Law, D. Metcalf's NXature Poundation and Extent of Moral Obligation, A. Bain's Cornmpendium of Ethics.
Of manuals of the theory and practice of ethics, we name
YW. Whewell's Elements of Morality including Polity, W.
Fleming's Manual of JMoral Philosophy, F. Wayland's
Moral Philosophy, L. P. Hickock's System  of Moral
Science, J. Haven's Moral Philosophy, J. H. Fairchild's
Moral Philosophy, or the Science of Obligation, A. Alexander's Moral Philosophy.
Politics and Jurisprudence are akin to ethics, and the
principles of both these sciences are generally discussed in
manuals of duty. The principles of the science of government should be thoroughly considered by every reading
man in a republican government. The attempt has been
made to introduce the study of the elements of this science
into our public schools but with no flattering success, for
the reason that the study in its own nature is too abstract




316             Books and Reading.        [CHAP. XIX.
and requires too much reflection to be suited for very
young persons. The Political Class Book by W. Sullivan,
a very clear-headed writer, was prepared for use in schools.
Blackstone's WCommentaries is the text book which introduces every student to the common law of England. It is
eminently instructive to every general reader who is not
repelled by its length and terminology. J. Kent's Commentaries on American Law in its extended or its abridged
form is a work of the highest authority. H. S. Maine's
History of Ancient Law is a work of a decidedly philosophical character, and traces many of the principles and
rules of positive legislation back to their first beginnings;
so to speak to their rudimental germs. J. Austin's Lectures on Jurisprudence is a work of eminent interest and
value. J. N. Pomeroy's Introduction to Municipal Law
is a popular and thorough treatise.
Of works in political science, the following are worth
attention. F. Lieber's C(ivil Liberty and Self-government
is a comprehensive and trustworthy manual which ought
to be mastered by every intelligent reader. J. Mackintosh,
On the Law of Nature and of Nations, J. S. Mill, On
Liberty and On Representative Government, J. C. Calhoun,
On Government, J. Locke, On Government, S. Nash,
Morality and the State, E. Mulford, The Nation are
works of greater or less interest and authority. A. De
Tocqueville's Democracy in America is universally acknowledged to be the most sagacious and profound work
on American Institutions and American society that has
ever been produced.  The Federalist is a classical work
upon the nature and origin of our general government, as
are the so-called Madison Papers, which contain a sketch of
the debates in the convention which formed the constitution.
With this should be connected J. Elliot's Debates on the
adoption of the Federal Constitution in tlhe several State
Conventions, also Geo. T. Curtiss' Origin of the Constitu



CHAP. XIX.]   Books of Science and Duty.          317
tion of the United States, also Marshall's D)ecisions of
Cases which concerned the interpretation of the same. T.
Jefferson's Memoirs, Correspondence and  Miscellanies,
with his Life by S. Randall are invaluable to a right
understanding and a just estimate of parties in this country.
The life and works of Alexander Hamilton give the views
of a leader on the opposite side. W. Sullivan's Letters on
Public Characters, T. Dwight's The Character of Jefferson as shown by His Writings and History of the Hartford
Convention may be consulted with great profit. The writings and speeches of John C. Calhoun and Daniel Webster which relate to the doctrines of nullification and secession are also of the first importance. M. Van Buren's
History of Parties in the United States, J. A. Hamilton's
Reminiscences, T. H. Benton's Thirty Years' View of the
United  States  Government, J. Buchanan's President
Buchanan's Administration are all instructive concerning
our more recent political history. The treatises and speeches
elicited by the recent civil war on both sides, are too recent
and too well-known to require to be named, if indeed a
selection from such a multitude could easily be made. The
publications of the National Loyal League association present the national view with great force and varied ability.
Of treatises upon the English government and constitution W. Bagehot's The English Constitution is foremost in
thoroughness and authority. E. S. Creasy's Rise and Progress of the English Constitution, Lord John Russell's English Government and Constitution, I. L. De Lolme's Constitution of England, are all good books.
The histories of H. Hallam and E. May have been already noticed. E. Burke's Reflections on the French Revolution and other writings, J. Mackintosh's Vindicice Galliece,
Guizot's History of the English-Revolution and Causes of
Success of the English Revolution of 1640 and 1688 are
publications of the first rank. The reader moreover who as



318             Books and Reading.         [CHAP. XIX.
pires to pursue an extended course of reading in political
science or political history will find no difficulty in selecting the best works upon every topic in either of these departments.
In International Law, H. Wheaton's History of International Law, and Elements of International Law
are of the highest authority. T. D. Woolsey's Manual and
Text Book on this topic is universally commended and is
brought down to the latest decisions. G. Bemis' Precedents
of American Neutrality and Hasty Recognition of Rebel
Belligerency; Letters On International Law by "Historicus" and M. Bernard's British Neutrality should be consulted on this much vexed topic.
Political Economy is a science much attended to in our
country and indeed in all civilized countries. The science
of wealth and questions of Exchange and Finance must
necessarily be thought of by every intelligent man. The
newspapers abound in discussions upon these topics, and
the destinies of great political parties hinge upon them.
Adam Smith's Wealth of lYations is the first in time and
almost first in importance. J. S. Mill's Principles of Political Economy is a more modern authority. J. Ricardo,
N. W. Senior, R. Whately, H. Fawcett, J. R. McCulloch, among others, are all very able writers. H. C. Carey, in Essays and his other writings is the able and indomitable advocate of a decided Protective system, while
F. Bastiat, in Popular Fallacies, etc., Sophisms, etc., is its
scientific foe. F. Bowen, Political Economy, and American
Political Economy is the moderate defender of Protection and
A. Perry, Elements of Political Economy, is its ingenious
and apt opponent. Sociology is a new name for a so-called
science which proposes to investigate those social conditions
and arrangements whether natural or artificial, which affect the well-being of the community as a whole and that of
the individual through the community. It treats of ques



CHAa. xIX.]     Books on Science and Duty.        319
tions of the public health, the public morality and popular
education. Active and efficient societies are formed for
the furtherance of these objects, and the reports and
treatises which they will produce must soon become an important part of our literature. Treatises upon education both
special and popular are very abundant in our country, and
are brought before the notice of all readers of newspapers.
There remains to be considered a very large class of
works of a more or less decidedly practical character,
which in the language of Bacon come home "to men's
business and bosoms." Many of these works are more or
less Ethical in their influence and character, and may be
classed under treatises or suggestions relating to the minor
morals. They must almost of necessity be Ethical, for
all those writings which propose to teach men how they
ought to think and act in respect to any matter whatever
must recognize more or less distinctly some standard of
duty or some obligation enforced by duty. But these
works treat of the minor rather than of the greater morals,
of the lesser interests and ends of life, rather than of those
commanding objects and aims which are universally and
seriously enforced by morality and religion. Lord Bacon's
Essays, civil and Moral, stands confessedly at the head of
all works of this class in English literature. It is in a
sense properly taken as a model for all, and is one of the
wisest and most thoughtful books for men of every condition and every age. It has been edited by Archbishop
Whately with abundant comments, all of a solid and interesting character. Whately's edition may be fitly called
Bacon adapted to modern times, by a writer of marked good
sense. Whately's comments are never unworthy of Bacon.
Of books of the class we have in mind, there are hundreds
if not thousands in the English language. They are in a
sense the legitimate and most characteristic product of the
practical tendencies of the English people. They reflect




320             Books and Reading.         [CHAP. XIX.
that freedom in criticism and discussion which for so many
ages has been asserted by English writers, enforced by
public opinion and secured by the laws. We can only set
down a few of the best, somewhat after the order of time,
and shall doubtless omit scores if not hundreds of great
value. Roger Ascham, The Schoolmaster; Toxophilus.
T. Fuller, Holy and Profane State; Good fholights in
Bad Times. T. Brown, Religio Medici. O. Feltham,
Resolves, Moral and Political, etc. A. A. Shaftesbury,
Ch]aracteristics. Daniel De Foe, The Famify Instructor,
Political and other Tracts. D. Hume, Essays.  The British Essayists from Addison to V. Knox. M. Montaigne,
Essays. I. Watts, On the Improvement of the Mind.
B. Franklin, Essays.  William  Cobbett, Miscellaneous
Works. W. Irving, The.Sketch Book, etc., etc. J. Dennie, The Lay Preacher. E. Sampson, The Brief Remarker. S. T. Coleridge, The Friend and other works. J. Wilson, Noctes Ambrosianae and other works. C. Lamb, Essays
of Elia. Leigh Hunt, The Indicator and other works.
T. Hood, Whims and Oddities, and other works. W.
Hazlitt, Essays and Criticisms.  T. De Quincey, Confessions of an Opium Eater and a score of works besides. T.
Carlyle, Critical and Miscellaneous Papers, Sartor Resartus, etc. J. Foster, Essays. Isaac Taylor, Home Education and other works. W. Channing, On Self-Culture and
other writings. Anon., Self-Formation or History of the
Growth of an Individual Mind. H. Taylor, The Statesvman and other writings. Arthur Helps, Friends in Council and other works. Mrs. Ellis, Women of England, etc.
Anon., Small Books on great Subjects. John Ruskin's
Writings. C. J. and A. Hare, Guesses at Truth. C. C.
Colton, Lacon. H. Davy, Consolations in Travel, Salmonia. L. Withington, The Puritan. H. Coleridge, Essays
and Marginalia. John Brown, ILorce Subsecivme, or Spare
I1ours. - H. B. Wallace, Papers in Art and Criticism. F.




CHAP. XIX]    Books on Science and Duty.         321
Saunders, Salad for the Solitary, etc. G. Mogridge, (Old
Humphrey) various works. D. M. Mulock, A  Woman's
Thoughts about Woman. M. Fuller Ossoli, Papers on Literature and Art, etc. N. P. Willis, Various works. W.
Legget, Writings. P. Bayne, Essays. H. Bushnell, Work
and Play. H. W. Beecher, Life Thoughts; Star Papers.
R. W. Emerson, Conduct of Life and other works. E. P.
Whipple, Essays and Reviews. D. G. Mitchell, (Ik. Marvel) Reveries of a Bachelor and other writings. A. Froude,
Short Studies on Great Subjects.  A. R. Hope, Book
about Dominies. Book about Boys. D'Arcy Thompson,
Day Dreams of a Schoolmaster and other works. A. H.
Boyd, (The  Country Parson) Miscellaneous Volumes.
William  Smith, Thorndale, or the Conflict of Opinions,
Gravenhurst. J. G. Holland, Letters of Timothy Titcomb,
etc.
21




CHAPTER XX.
RELIGIOUS BOOKS AND SUNDAY READING.
WE approach both these topics with some hesitation.
We do not expect that what we write will be understood
by all our readers, or will be accepted by all who understand it. Very many persons who are intelligent upon a
variety of other subjects never think or read with earnestness upon religion, although in the words of Daniel Webster, "the noblest theme that can occupy the intellect of man
is man's relations to God." Lord Bacon also says in sober
earnestness that " Theology is the haven and Sabbath of all
man's contemplations." Religion and its truths, its theologies and its ethics, its histories and its biographies, its poetry
and its criticism, are despised by many otherwise well and
even highly cultured persons as the offspring of a fond imagination, a credulous superstition or a timid traditionalism.
Or all these are disliked as imposing unwelcome restraints
upon the pursuits and passions by which too many are
controlled; perhaps they are scorned with passionate contempt from some inherited or conventional associations.
There are not a few skeptics or rejectors of Christianity who
if honest would be forced to confess with Hume, that they
had never read the New Testament through with intelligent attention. On the other hand, there are not a few
earnestly and actively religious people who rarely read
earnestly upon the very subject which occupies their best
emotions and inspires their best activities, either because they
never read upon any subject with intelligence and effect,
or because they have been trained to conceive that the ex322




CHAP. XX.] Religious Books and Sunday Reading.    323
ercise of a very active intelligence upon religious topics is
inconsistent with warm emotion or a confiding faith. Hence
the religious reading which they allow themselves is below their intelligence, and done rather for the purpose of
exciting devotional feelings or spending a half hour over a
quantum of religious phraseology than for the ends of intelligent conviction and reasonable emotion.
They read history, biography, novels, poetry and criticism
on the most liberal scale and with excited wakefulness, but
their religious reading is limited to one or two books of devotion or a few second-rate biographies of second-rate and
goodish people. Others perhaps never care or never dare
to read any religious book unless it has the imprimatur of
their own religious communion. The Romanist is by necessity almost precluded from any other than Catholic literature. If the reader is a Methodist he is likely to read
only such books as are issued by the " Book Concern," if
a Presbyterian, to believe only in the blue-backed volumes
of " the Publication Society," if an Episcopalian he ignores
all works except those written or sanctioned by Churchmen,
or if he is a Liberal Christian he may have a traditional
and very illiberal contempt for every literary production
that proceeds from the so-called Orthodox. A very large
class of Christians are so intensely practical or evangelical
as to be conscientiously jealous of the exercise of earnest
thinking upon religious truth or duty, and are offended by
every book which would either awaken or stimulate the intelligence, or requires its vigorous exercise in order to be
understood. It must be confessed that religious emotion
as such, like every other description of emotion, is not of
itself friendly to, or promotive of the exercise of intellectual
energy. The fact has been noticed by Coleridge that the
fond indulgence of religious feeling has often brought a
species of dry rot into a noble intellect by the force of simple stagnation. We hold that this is unnatural and abnor



324             Books and Reading.          [CHAP. xx.
mal-nay more, that this happens not only by error but by
sin, and that as a consequence the religious character itself
becomes one-sided and degenerate. We contend that if a man
dwarfs or blinds or stupefies his intellect in order to attain
to earnest and sustained religious feeling-especially if he
uses vigorous thinking and earnest reading upon other topics and dares not to do it or is disinclined to do it upon religious themes-he will sooner or later suffer lamentably
in his religious faith and fervor. We assert that it is the
duty of every one who reads with zest and curiosity upon
other subjects, to read with earnestness and with freedom
upon religious themes. We would even go farther and assert that the cause of the decline and fervor in very many
persons of active and imaginative minds is that they do not
give to religious subjects the same activity which they bestow upon subjects of inferior interest.  The injunction
" give attention to reading" has a wider reach and is supported by a greater variety of reasons than is usually thought.
If what we have said should have disturbed the, feelings
of any, we hasten to relieve them by adding that we do
not propose to discuss any questions which relate directly
to special theological creeds or to ecclesiastical or denominational divisions. We assume indeed, as we have already
explained, that the Christian History is true and that Christ
is the proper object of confidence, reverence, and gratitude.
This being premised, we proceed to speak respecting the
selection and reading of religious, i. e. Christian books.
Religious books may be divided into four classes: good
books, i. e. books which are very good-goodish booksbooks which are good for nothing-books which are worse
than nothing.
Good books are such as are positive and conspicuous for
one or all of three merits-merits of thought, feeling, and
diction. Every good book can show a raison d'etre. There
is some occasion for its being produced and read. Good




CHAP. xx.] Religious Books and Sunday Reading.    325
books invariably bear marks of having originated in a
gifted mind-in a mind set apart by nature or called of
God to speak to one's fellow-men by reason of the gift
of genius or of earnestness. They show the signs of this
calling and these gifts, and awaken a response in the ear and
the hearts of the truly earnest or the truly cultured of
those who hear them, and thus prove there was an occasion
for their being written.
Goodish books are books of second-hand goodness-books
that areconsciously or unconsciously imitated from good books
-books that repeat old thoughts, by stupid and servile
copying, or with such original variations as despoil them
of their freshness and life-books which seek to express
simple and familiar emotions without just or real feelingbooks which strain out affected conceits, or extravagant imagery with some empty ambition of originality-books
whose authors are willing to gain the admiration of
the uncultured and the half cultured by any extravagance of thought or diction. Above all, they are books
which utter the words of religious feeling, when the writer
does not really possess it, or possessing it describes the objects of his excited emotion in borrowed or stereotyped
phraseology. Such books are deformed by more or less of
cant in the strict and proper acceptation of that term, as
characterizing an unsuccessful attempt to sing what another
sings heartily and sings well. Goodish books -may have
more or less positive merit, with all their strained and factitious untruth-they may be eminently useful to readers
who do not observe their defects or are not offended by
them, who do not require anything better, or who may
have a taste so perverted as to prefer them to good books,
even though good books would be far better for them.
There is unhappily, in the religious world, a very large
class of books of whom the remark of a shrewd observer
will hold, "men who are simply and earnestly good, I like




326              Boolks and Reading.        [CHAP. xx.
exceedingly, but goodish men or. those who put on airs of
goodness, not at all."
Religious boolks which are good for nothing are such as
are stupid in thought, feeble in emotion, false in imagery,
vulgar in illustration or uncouth and illiterate in diction,
and which are so deficient in all these particulars as to be
incapable of doing good to any one which might not be done
far more efficiently by books that are better or those less
open to objection. Books of this description are very numerous. They are produced by the toll. They thrust themselves in your face in every bookseller's shop. They are
obtruded upon your notice by weak but well-meaning people at every corner. That they serve some useful purpose
to very many people does not disprove that they are good
for nothing, provided we can show that a good or a goodish
book would have answered the same purpose better or
equally well.
Religious books that are worse than nothing are such as
are positively offensive from defects so gross as to be obvious to people of very moderate cultivation. All books
belong to this class which are false in sentiment, fraudulent
by over-statement or by suppression, wooden or scholastic
in phraseology and conception, dishonest in the caricature
or misrepresentation of opponents whether infidel or fellowChristian, unsound in reasoning, hysterical in emotion,
doggerel in verse, or sensational and extravagant in prose.
These all dishonor true religion either by conspicuous errors,
a bad spirit, bad taste, bad manners or bad English. Whatever partial or occasional good they may seem to effect
among people who are not aware of their falsehood, or are
not offended by their extravagance, would be done more
effectually by other books, while the positive evil they
occasion to the bigoted, the undevout and the scoffer is
fearful to think of.
Two questions here suggest themselves as worth the ask



CnAP. xx.] Religious Books and Suncday Reading.    327
ing. Why is the number of inferior religious books proportionately so great? and why are such books treated with
greater consideration than inferior books upon other subjects?  The first of these questions is easily answered.
The reasons which explain the production and use of inferior books of any description explain with especial significance the demand for religious books. The demand
accounts for the supply. Incompetent men will write
mean books on religious topics, as they do upon all topics,
with the best intentions and with intentions which are
none of the best, and incompetent judges will read such
books without being aware of their inferiority, and may
even prefer the inferior to the superior. The goodness of
the aim often hides from the well-intentioned author and
reader the essential inferiority of the author and critic. The
public teachers of religion are also by the necessities of
their profession, more or less practised in literary composition. Very many are surrounded by circles of kindlydisposed and even admiring friends, who feel a special interest in everything which comes from them.  Many a
preacher becomes an author who has no other call to this
vocation than the call of an admiring congregation for a
volume of discourses, or of sermons turned into lectures or
essays. He yields to the call, either because he mistakes
it for the call of a wider circle, or because he desires to
gratify the kindly preferences of his friends, or because he
knows that they will read with a special interest a tract or
book written by himself.
The reasons why inferior books upon religious topics are
treated with especial forbearance are the following:
First of all, there is the general disposition to consider
the goodness of the end which every such book contemplates, and to overlook the question, whether the book in
hand is fitted to promote the end. Even though the book
is painfully weak or commonplace, or bristles with shock



328             Books and Reading.            [CHAP. XX.
ing extravagances of style and conception, it is charitably
said of it, "perhaps it may do good with some people;" and
therefore is it exempt from the criticism which it deserves.
Those who see its weakness allow it to pass-if they sympathize with its aims, from charity-if they despise its ends,
from simple disdain. Many fail to see that the book is
weak because of their interest in or their contempt for these
ends. In view of such considerations criticism is either
unconsciously disarmed, or distinctly repressed when it is
called for.
It is in place here to notice, that motives which are far
from being worthy often present themselves under the
guise of an appeal to the religious feelings. A book that
is written in the interest of a religious sect or party, a book
that is published by our favorite publishing society or
which is in any way identified with our church or denomination may lead the critic and the public for whom he
writes to be tolerant of defects which in the books of
another party or society or church he would be sharpsighted to observe and foremost to expose.
It is also to be observed that not a few good or goodish
people, in their conceptions and judgments of religious
literature, seem conscientiously and even religiously to disregard the relation of.means to ends. They reason that
because now and then a weak book or a weak and offensive
passage in a book has caught the attention, or wakened a
response of feeling in some person who was without religious thought or feeling,-therefore no relation is recognizable between argument and conviction, persuasion
and assent, eloquence and impression, or genius and edification. Some religionists seem to labor under the impression that too great a measure of logic, eloquence or genius
is not to be desired, lest they should usurp the place of
mysterious and undiscerned agencies of a higher character.
For this reason, though they, in all cases, somewhat in



CHAP. xx.] Religious Books and Sunday Reading.     329
consistently require that the English should be grammatical, they contend that the diction should not be too fine or
too eloquent; though they would think it well that there
should be a certain degree of logical coherence and eloquent
exposition, they are religiously offended if these excellencies
are too conspicuous. That such an attitude is purely sanctimonious and in so far irreligious, we shall waste no words
to prove. The conditions of success are as truly observed
in the sphere of religious thought and feeling as in any
other, although they are at times dispensed with or overborne by special interpositions. Such interpositions are not
furnished to sanction intellectual laziness, or careless English, or inapt logic, much less to justify those enormities of
platitudinous commonplace and sensational inflation which
are so largely represented in some departments of religious
literature.  For man to crown his indolence or unculture
with the aureole of superior spiritual sanctity is to dishonor
his Creator in the most sacred of operations, as well to
dishonor his own human powers by one of the most debasing of untruths. If there is no connection between uncleanliness and godliness there can be none between careless diction, blundering logic, and tumid eloquence, and
the special power or presence of the divine Spirit.
So far is it from being true that earnest feeling requires
or tends to promote an inferior literature, it may be shown
that the quality of religious literature degenerates, in connection with the decay of religious earnestness. While it
must be conceded that the ends immediately proposed by
religious orators, poets, and essayists, are practical rather
than literary, it is also as true, that it is only when faith is
earnest and zeal is ardent, that eloquence is overpowering,
poetry sublime, and argument irresistible, because it is only
at such times that the noblest human energies are strongly
aroused by the highest objects. It is only by men thoroughly aroused and inspired that the great works of reli



330              Books and Reading.         [CHAP. XX.
gious literature have been produced. But when faith and
fervor decline, then twaddle and cant take their place, religious books abound in imitated thoughts, in solemn formalisms, in sanctimonious utterances and tiresome platitudes.
It is at such times that books are manufactured to order,
not produced by inspiration. They are brought into being
because godliness tends to reputation or to " gain," not because the writer " believes and therefore speaks." No mistake can'be more serious than to suppose that the production
of shoals of inferior religious books is a sign of religious
progress. The exact opposite may be true.
But enough of this fault-finding: It were wiser and
more useful to notice some of the signs or tests by which
good religious books can be distinguished from those which
are inferior or worthless.
Good religious books should have the stamp of individuality.  They  should  express  the writer's individual
thoughts and feelings. They should come from a person
who has something to say which is his own, and is neither
the affected nor the unconscious repetition of the thoughts
of another. This is the true conception of what we call
originality and freshness, which are closely allied to genius.
An author may be defective in respect to literary culture,
and range of knowledge, and yet if he has these, he is
usually worth reading. The sources of fresh and individual
thoughts on religious themes, are more universally accessible to all men, than in respect to any other, because they
are all found in God and nature, in Christ and the Scriptures; and in the soul of man as moved by each and all of
these objects. A devout thought if it is a writer's own, is
often a stroke of genius. Hence the power of such writers
as Bunyan and Defoe. But real originals should be distinguished from the factitious and imitated. As real originality in religion is always fresh and dewy, and is always
greatly to be desired —so the factitious is *to be avoided




chrp. XX.] Religious Books and Sunday Reading.  331
and rejected. The sensational, the strained, and the bizarre
are often present in religious writing for the reason that
many authors seek to shun the commonplace, by running
into a variety of unnatural extravagances and excesses.
Hence the intellectual antics and vulgarities of every description which infest the pulpit and degrade religious books
and newspapers. A fresh writer like Coleridge, Carlyle,
Emerson, Robertson or Ruskin, cannot appear without exciting a host of imitators in style and illustration. Many
in almost every religious congregation are agape for what
they call or conceive to be originality in a preacher. It
should ever be remembered that while in all departments
of writing, sincerity, (and, therefore, simplicity,) is a sign
of genius, this is emphatically true in religious writing.
Another sign of a good religious book is its freedom from
phraseology that is needlessly technical and stereotyped.
Theology and religion must certainly have their appropriate
terms; truths and emotions that are so marked and uniform
must necessarily shape for themselves certain words with a
fixed and definite import. To those persons to whom this
import is unfamiliar or distasteful these terms must seem
strange. As the terms that are necessary in music or art or
any of the sciences are strange and even uncouth to those
who concern themselves with neither-as the language of
the lover is an unknown speech to those who have never felt
his emotions, so must the language of the humble and devout be offensive to the proud and the godless.  The incubus upon religious literature is not the use of such terms
when they do express thought and feeling, but when they
fail to express either. The same evil ensues when terms
of thought are used simply to manifest feeling with little
or no intelligence, and when customary phrases are repeated
with little or no significance. The repetition of " stock
phrases" such as are taken from the Scriptures out of all
proper connection, or are borrowed from the current private




332              Books and Reading.        [CHAP. xx.
dialect of any religious communion, is what we have already
noticed, as the offense of multitudes of religious books to
men of culture and good sense. The sensitive and sensible John Foster was so painfully affected by this feature of
much of the religious literature of his time that he made it
the theme of one of the ablest of his Essays. An important
point will be gained when this conventional and factitious
religious dialect is discarded by all good writers. This result will be hastened if buyers and readers make it a test
of a good religious book that it is free from technical or
canting phraseology.
A good religious book is always stimulating to thought
and elevating to the imagination. A book that does not
make us think and feel and aspire-that does not exalt us
by the grandeur of its objects and ennoble us by the aspirations of duty, that does not aid us to soar upwards towards God is not a good religious book however pious its
tone or pretentious its phraseology. It is the appropriate function of a good religious book to accomplish all
these objects, and whatever book fails of these ends cannot
be good of its kind. When we say that a good book should
stimulate thought we do not mean that it should be
scholastic or theological or obtrusively intellectual; least
of all that it should swell with the meretricious airs of
what is called originality; but we do intend that it should
offer thoughts which are fitted to stir and quicken while
they overawe and sober the intellect. We do not mean that
these thoughts should be other than practical, for truths of
practice and duty especially when they search the heart
and purify the motives are of all truths the most quickening, but we do intend that they should take hold of the
mind with a strong and definite grasp. When we say a
good book should elevate the imagination we do not intend
that it should make man proud, but that it should make
him humble. This it will do most effectually if it confronts




CHAP. XX.]  Religious Books and Sunday Reading.   333
him with ideas that take away the thoughts of self, that
subdue him to repentance while they encourage him to
faith. It is also eminently fitting that a good religious
book should have all the accessories which are found in a
pure and elevated diction; that it should suggest no offensive or degrading associations; that it should be free from
all suggestions of coarseness, egoism or vulgarity. It is
natural to add that a book may be a good book for one
man which is not good for another, and that no man is
bound by religious duty to make a book seem good to himself which reasonably offends his judgment, his taste or
his imagination.
Of the few classes of religious books of which we may
venture to speak, we name first those which relate to
Theism and the Christian History. With subjects of this
class every reader should be more or less conversant, and
inasmuch as the methods of discussing them have materially changed within the present century, there is occasion
for careful selection if we would read the books which
are best fitted for the present generation. While in one
sense it cannot be conceded that scientific Atheism, Pantheism or Infidelity are more formidable at present than
formerly, inasmuch as true science and a thoroughly scientific spirit are favorable to neither, it cannot be denied
that not a few are shaken in their faith in both Theism
and Christianity, by what they regard as the teachings and
deductions of Science. Upon the existence and moral
Government of a Personal God may be consulted, the socalled Burnett Prize Essays of 1854, i. e. R. A. Thompson's Christian Theism and J. Tulloch's Theism. To these
may be added J. Buchanan's Modern Atheism. The socalled Bridgewater Treatises are all very able works of their
kind, although their science is a little antiquated.
C. Babbage, Ninth Bridqewater Treatise, F. Wharton,
Theism and Skepticism, W. Whewell, Indications of a




334.Books and Reading.           [cuxp. XX.
Creator, J. McCosh and G. Dickie, Special Types and
Ends in Creation, W. Paley, Natural Theology, Lord
Brougham, Discourses on Natlural Theology, G. Berkeley,
The Afinute Philosopher, F. Bowen, Lowell Lectures, I.
Kant, Critique of Pare Reason, T. Chalmers, Natural
Theology, B. Pascal, Thoughts on Religion, F. Burr, Ecce
Coelum, J. Butler, Analogy of Natural and Revealed Religion, N. W. Taylor, On the Moral Government of God, J.
McCosh, On the Method of the Divine Government, H. L.
Mansel, The Limits of Religious Thought, F. D. Maurice,
What is Revelation, Goldwin Smith, Rational Religion, H.
Calderwood, Philosophy of the Infinite, A. T. Bledsoe,
Theodicy, J. Young, Evil not from God, A. S. Farrar,
Science and Theology, The Duke of Argyll, The Reign of
Law, J. D. Morell, The Philosophy of Religion, S. T.
Coleridge, Aids to Reflection are all worth reading.
Upon the evidences of Christianity may be named W.
Paley, The Evidences of Christianity, T. Chalmers, Christianity, from the Ed. Encyclopedia, W. L. Alexander,
Christ and Christianity, " Ecce Ilomo," J. R. Beard, Voices
of the Church in reply to D. F. Strauss, G. Uhlhorn,
Modern Representations of the Life of Jesus, E. Erskine,
Remarks on the Internal Evidence of Revealed Religion,
(very good), G. P. Fisher, Essays upon Supernatural Christianity, (good on Modern Critical Objections,) J. Young,
The Christ of History, (very good), C. Tischendorf, When
were our Gospels written? R. Whateley, Historic Doubts,
J. B. Walker, Philosophy of the Plan of Salvation; Philosophy of Skepticism, A. Norton, The Genuineness of the
Gospels, (clear and solid),W. E. Channing, The Evidences
of Christianity, A. P. Peabody, Christianity the Religion
of Nature, J. Freeman Clark, Steps of Belief, J. B. Mozley, Lectures on Miracles, R. C. Trench, Notes on J7iiracles, Aids to Faith, Tracts for Priests and People, H. Bushnell, Xature and the Supernatural, (eloquent and eleva



CHAP. XX.]  Religious Books and Sunday Reading.   335
ting), B. F. Westcott, The Gospel of the Resurrection, O.
Gregory, -Evidences of Revealed  Religion, D. WVilson,
Evidences of the Christian Religion, M. Hopkins, _Evidences of Christianity, W. Paley, Horce Paulince, J. J.
Blunt, Undesigned Coincidences, C. Rogers, Eclipse of
Faith; -Defence of do. (against F. W. Newman), Albert
Barnes, Evidences of Christianity in the 19th Century, E.
Dodge, Evidences of Christianity, Isaac Taylor, The Restoration of Belief, R. Vaughan, The Way of Rest, C. Walworth, The Gentle Skeptic, N. Wiseman, Lectures on
Science and Revealed Religion, J. Leland, Deistical Writers, A. S. Farrar, Critical History of Eree Thought, The
Boston Lectures on Christianity and Skepticism.
Christian believers of all sects and all shades of opinion
agree in recommending the critical and historical study of
the Scriptures as of the highest interest and importance.
Indeed many, not to say most of those even who reject the
claims of the Scriptures to a supernatural origin and
authority, do not hesitate to accord the highest significance
to these books as literature and as movers of opinion and
feeling in all ages. Whatever in books or reading promises
to cast any light upon the history and antiquities, the sentiments and opinions, the facts and characters which we
find in these books, is generally acknowledged to be of the
highest significance and interest. This estimate is neither
vague nor superficial, nor is it held as a tradition or a truism.
It is not the result of a blind or fond preference, but of
enlightened and rational judgment. The attacks of unbelief
upon the Christian history, the movements of a negative
anti-supernaturalism against the positive acceptance of the
supernatural and the miraculous, have involved the sharpest historical criticism of every point pertaining to the Scripture narratives and have invested with deep interest every
discussion and every treatise that relate to subjects of this
sorlt.  Who was _Moses?   Whence came the Jewish




33~             Books and Reading.          [C-:AP. XX.
economy? Who was David? How did it happen that
he wrote such wonderful poetry and anticipated so great a
successor in his own lineage?  Who were the Prophets?
Whence came their insight into the moral and religious import of passing events and their capacity to exhort and
rebuke with such penetrating truth and startling energy?
Whence their foresight into the future and their rapt
anticipations of the emergence and the triumphs of a spiritual kingdom of God? Again, who was Jesus? What were
His estimates and His assertions concerning Himself? How
did He justify and enforce these claims? - At what points
did He touch, and how did He adapt Himself to the great
movements that preceded His own times? By what means
did He lay hold of the thought and feeling of all succeeding
generations? These questions are not to be set aside by
the intelligent reader as the hackneyed themes of pulpit
harangues nor as truisms that are become familiar to every
Sunday-school child, nor as convenient topics for shallow
platitudes, or the croaking jeremiads of morbid or one-sided
devotees, but they are inquiries which are fitted to arouse
the curiosity and to hold the attention of every manly
thinker and reader. "'Tis true,'tis pity, and pity'tis,'tis true" that multitudes who read intelligently and
thoughtfully upon other subjects, thrust aside these questions with contemptuous disdain, or accept with a grateful
and silly confidence the oracular dicta of extemporizing
dogmatists. It is also true that many who believe in a
supernatural Christ do not appreciate the intellectual reach
and import of their faith. The Scriptures are perused by
multitudes in a negligent, mechanical and traditional spirit
which involves little intelligence and less curiosity. Even
the great mass of those who aspire to interpret them to
others have limited conceptions of the historical and intellectual wealth of the wonderful writings which they attempt to expound. Of books relating to the Scriptures




crAP. xX.1 Religious Books and Sunday Reading.   337
it is emphatically true that there are a few which are books,
and multitudes which are no books, but mere copies and
dilutions of those which are books indeed. Of the best of
them it may be said that they require a more awakened
intelligence and a more vivid imagination than often
accompany their use, however diligent and well intended
this may be.
The following may be named as useful aids for the English reader in the general study of the Scriptures. We
omit the notice of commentaries of every kind for the reasons already given. W. Smith's Bible IDictionary, 3 Vols.,
is a work which stands foremost as an encyclopedia of
biblical history and criticism. The edition by H. B.
Hackett and E. A. Abbot is the best. S. W. Barnum's
Comprehensive Dictionary of the Bible is an extensive and
excellent dictionary founded on Smith with many valuable additions. Either of these works may take the place
of many separate treatises on the separate books of the
Scriptures, as well as upon Scriptural Geography, History
and Antiquities. J. McClintock and J. Strong's Encyclopedia of Biblical Literature, when complete will be an excellent book of reference, P. Fairbairn's Imperial Bible.Dictionary, and J. Kitto's Cyclopedia of Biblical Literature
(edited by W. L. Alexander) are of the highest authority.
We have named already the histories by Ewald and
Stanley, also Helon's Pilgrimage, and Herder's Spirit ofy
Hebrew Poetry, all of which are as relevant to the student
of the Scriptures as to the reader of history. Robinson's
Biblical Geography, Stanley's Egypt and Palestine, and
Thomson's The Land and the Book should be named also ill
this connection. H. C. Conant's History of the Englisbh
Bible, and B. F. Westcott's History of the English Bible,
are books of authority. G. F. Townsend's The Bible i,n
Chronological order, H. Alford's How to Study the New
Testament, B. F. WVestcott's Stud.y of the Gospels, S. J.
22




338             Books and Reading.         [CHAP. xX.
Andrews' Life of our Lord, A. Neander's Life of Christ
and Planting and Training of the Church, W. J. Conybeare's
and J. T. Howson's Life and Epistles of St. Paul, E. H.
Plumptre's Christ and Christendom, E. De Pressense's Jesus Christ and The Religions before Christ, C. Hardwick's
Christ and other Masters, T. Lewis, The Divine Human in
the Scriptures are all works of interest and authority. The
Psalms chronologically arranged by Four Friends. J. Murdock's The New Testament from the Syriac, The Translations of the Psalms and other books of the Old Testament
and of the whole of the New, by G. R. Noyes, are valuable
-auxiliaries in the study of the Bible.
In respect to Books of edification and devotion a few
hints may be allowed without overstepping the rules which
we have prescribed to ourselves, or offending the prepossessions of any religious communion. No man need, we
would almost say no man should, read books which contain
few clear and definite thoughts or whose thoughts are not
elevating and quickening. There is nothing more deadening to the religious sensibilities or more depressing to the
whole character than the attempt to arouse spiritual feeling
by a devotional book which is stupid, weak or belittling.
It is difficult.enough for the soul when it is aided by every
accessory to rise in spiritual flights or to keep those heights
which it is competent to gain. It is doubly foolish for it
to encumber or degrade itself by any superfluous hindrances. A devotional and practical manual should have an
intellectual as well as a spiritual tone, for in order to gain
edification and elevation for the feelings the intellect must
be quickened and refreshed.  Next Devotional works
should not only be stimulating to thought, but they should
be elevating in style and imagery. This is eminently true
of Hymns and sacred Poetry. Roundell Palmer's Book
of Praise, and many choice collections from Latin and German Hymns have brought within the reach of every earnest




CHaP. XX]    Religious Books and Sunday Reading.  339
Christian the means of satisfying his taste while they cultivate the spiritual feelings or express them in acts of worshlip. Watts, Doddridge, Ken, Cowper, and Heber, C.
Wesley, Bonar, C. Elliott, R. Palmer and many others
have given us too many pure and high-toned hymns to
make it necessary now to resort to religious doggerel. The
most elevated moods and attitudes of the soul should be
honored as well as sustained by the choicest accessories of
language and rhythm. Good religious poetry and biography usually serve most effectually the purposes of edification and devotion.  The Confessions of St. Augustine,
The Imitation of Christ, Taylor's Holy Living and Dying, Bp. Wilson's Sacra Privata and Mlaxirns of Piety
and Christianity, The Whole Duty  of Man, Baxter's
Saints' Rest, Howe's Blessedness of the Righteous, and
fW. Law's Serious Call have stood the test of time. Arnold's Sermons on the Christian Life, Bushnell's Sermons
for the New Life, C. J. Vaughan's well known Volumes Christ the Liqght, etc, Hopkins' Lessons from the Cross,
Taylor's Christian Aspects of Faith and Duty are specimens of varied types of modern practical works.
A word or two may be added touching reading for
Sundays. We trust we shall offend none of the advocates
for the strictest religious use of the Lord's day, when we
suggest that every reader should make a business and a
conscience of having his Sunday reading intellectually profitable and stimulating as well as spiritually devout.
Laziness and dawdling have no affinity with true worship
or the girding up of the inner man for the moral and religious conflicts of the succeeding week-days. Mysticism,
pietism and asceticism all weaken the manhood and so bring
insidious poison into the ethicaj and religious life. The
exercise of the intellect on some question in Theology,
some scriptural exposition, or Christian history, some
quickening biography or Christian poem, and doing this




340            Books and Reading.          [CHAP. xX.
earnestly and systematically is greatly to be recommended
in place of the desultory meditation, the reading of goodish
books, and the sometimes not even goodish religious newspapers, or the meaningless religious gossip which use up
and degrade so many bright hours of so many Sundays.
The mechanic and laborer, the clerk and the apprentice,
the merchant and the professional man, every one who is so
far subjected to task work as to find little time for continuous reading on week-days ought to make his Sundays as
available as possible for intellectual excitement and enlarged information upon religious themes as well as for
simple edification. Let such seek in their religious reading
on Sundays for invigorating thoughts, for valuable information, for elevating impressions of character, for lofty sentiments of resolve and aspiration, with which to store the mind
for the week of conflict and worldliness, of temptation and
meanness to which they will certainly be exposed. No classes
of subjects are so suitable for Sunday reading in combining rest and refreshment with elevating and stimulating
influences as good religious biography, enlightened and
liberal Church History and superior religious poetry.
No subject needs attention so much from the more gifted and
best cultured minds, as the preparation of religious books for
Sunday use, that the day may be set apart from other days
not only by its appropriately religious duties, but may
become more effectually a day for spiritual culture in its
more enlarged and highest signification. An attempt has
been made to provide a Sunday Library, on this theory,
by the publishers Macmillan, which may enable the reader to understand our ideal. This ideal other publishers and
writers may more perfectly realize. These'hints are all
that we dare allow ourselves upon a subject in regard to
which opinions differ so widely and suspicions and offense
may be so easily aroused.




CHAPTER XXI.
NEWSPAPERS AND PERIODICALS.
THE rapid growth and the enormous increase of Newspapers and Periodical journals make it necessary to discuss
them separately, freely and at some length. With very
many persons they have very largely taken the place of
books and have induced peculiar habits of reading and of
thinking, which modify the estimate and the use that are
accorded to the books which continue to be read. There are
many persons now living, who were bred in the wealthiest
and most accessible country towns even of New-England,
who can remember when the most intelligent families were
content with a single weekly newspaper, issued from the
nearest city or shire town. Perhaps a religious weekly was
added, after religious newspapers began to be published.
One or two households besides that of the clergyman or
lawyer might take a Monthly as the Analectic Mlagazine,
or possibly a Quarterly as the newly initiated North
American Review; or perhaps one family read the London Quarterly and another the Edinburgh, which were
then reproduced, the one in drab, and the other in blue and
yellow. A daily newspaper except in the large commercial cities was unknown and unthought of, and a copy
rarely found its way into the most accessible towns of the 
largest size. A Semi-weekly New York or Boston Advertiser, or a Philadelphia Gazette, was the height of luxury
in the country towns.
But all this is now bravely changed in England and
America-so far as newspapers are concerned, more em341




342              Books and Reading.         [CHAP. XXI.
phatically in America than in England. The United
States is the paradise of newspapers, if a rank and rapid
growth indicates a paradise. A daily newspaper has become a necessity of life to every city and every extemporized village on the extreme frontiers of civilization. As
a medium for learning and telling news and for the manufacture and the retail of gossip, the newspaper has taken
the place of the fountain and the market-place of olden
times; and in times more recent, of the town-pump, the
grocery and the exchange; as well as of the court-house
and the cross roads of a more scattered population. We
cannot finish our breakfast without the local daily, whether
it be metropolitan or provincial. If we do business in the
city and sleep in the country, we must despatch two or
three dailies on our way to the office or the counting-room,
and we reconsider and review the day by a glance at the
evening journals. Instead of reading books, many read
reviews of books; instead of patiently perusing history,
many cram from summaries or digests in the form of
partisan or critical articles. Every leading monthly has
its serial novel with which to tantalize the reader and to
prolong the tale; which frequently breaks off at an exciting
crisis, in order to hold the tale and the periodical prominently before the minds of the greatest number of readers.
Brilliant poems are secured to sell a single number. Telling articles on politics, finance and theology are no longer
published in pamphlets as formerly, but they are Bought for
to give character to a Quarterly. Editors' "book tables,"
"easy chairs," "quarterly or monthly summaries" are relied
upon to indicate, or regulate the current of public opinion
as well as for the circulation of a variety of gossip and the
discharge of. any redundant editorial humor, which is
various in the quality of its effervescence and pungency.
The shy girl of the country, and the bold girl of the town,
the fast girl of the period and the brassy girl of the pro



CHAP. x1.]    Newspapers and Periodicals.        343
menade all study the fashions in some newspaper or magazine, to which are appended a flashy poem, a sensational
tale and a flaunting essay. To meet the wants of those
whose intellectual digestion is weak, but whose moral sense
is scrupulous, newspapers of a very light pabulum are
furnished, strongly flavored with a tremendously exciting
story and several highly exalted essays and extracts of
wonderful adventures; and these papers penetrate all parts
of the country, by the force of enterprise and effrontery.
The fast life which we are rightly accused of living is
rendered trebly fast by the number of newspapers and
journals, which allow us no repose when we seem to be at
leisure either for a cheerful conversation with our fellows,
or for a quiet chat with ourselves or with quiet and elevating books. The Home Library has become a place in
which to read newspapers and periodicals, and sometimes
its shelves contain little more than the bound volumes of
the quarterlies or monthlies which a few years have accumulated.
Inasmuch as people will read newspapers and journals
as well as books, and often in the place of books, it seems
worth the while and almost necessary to offer some hints in
respect to their value and the best or least harmful way
in which they can be used. We begin with the Quarterly
and Monthly journals.
The modern Quarterlies when they came into being were
an inevitable necessity. The Edinburgh Review appeared
as the organ of a liberal and progressive literary and political party, and it fitly ushered in the present century. The
zeal and boldness of the Edinburgh as the organ of the
Whigs, called forth from the Conservatives the London
Quarterly and Blackwood's Magazine.'Then followed the
quarterlies and monthlies which were made the organs of
religious parties and denominations and also of special philosophical and theological opinions. The primary object of




34              Books and Reading.         [CHAP. XXI.
the most of these magazines was to furnish thorough criticisms of books of current literature, and well-considered
articles upon the various topics of politics and reform in
which the public were interested. In process of time, the,
scope of these reviews was somewhat enlarged, and they received papers of a general character upon any subjects to
which certain writers had devoted special attention. In
this way they became in part nothing more than a periodical vehicle for the issue of pamphlets or brief treatises. In
consequence, many a writer who in earlier times would
have published his book, which might be longer or shorter,
now publishes a labored article. The convenience and the
regularity of the review stimulates to the production of
many treatises which would not otherwise have been written. Its limits and its popular character requires that the
article should be condensed and spirited. This has created a
peculiar style of writing-bold, trenchant, and antithetic,
often eloquent and able, but always positive and unqualified.
Condensed summaries take the place of long disquisitions,
brief and pithy statements of expanded arguments, and
bold and square assertions of guarded and qualified inductions. In the Edinburgh Review, Sidney Smith, Jeffrey
and Macaulay were representative writers; in the London
Quarterly, Gifford, Southey and Croker; in Blackwood,
Lockhart and Wilson were master spirits. The North
American Review aspired at a purely literary character and
influence with no pronounced political sympathies. Buckminster, Ticknor, Sparks, and the Everetts were its characteristic writers.
The influence of these reviews upon the intellectual
habits of their readers, especially of those who have read
them from their youth, has been not inconsiderable. With
many, they have displaced not a few of the books which had
previously been considered essential in the reading of every
well-informed man.  Instead of reading a history with




CHAP. XXI.]   Newspapers and Periodicals.         345
care and in detail, many have been content to learn from a
review its chief positions, its general aims and some of its
more striking passages. In place of reading the original
papers or documents on both sides of a controversy on
politics or finance, it has been found more expeditious and
convenient to read the summing up of a reviewer even
though it was notorious that he wrote in the spirit of an
advocate. The mastery of a distinguished author, which
by the old-fashioned method could only be achieved by
long and laborious processes is now seemingly achieved at
a few hours' sitting, by the aid of the able and exhaustive
critic who has condensed the chief results and principles
into a brief essay. Instead of going to original sources of
evidence, or hearing both sides of a contested question, it is
more convenient to take the impressions of a writer who has
volunteered to perform the labor for the reader. If the
reader is not satisfied with reading a single article, he can
find two or more on opposite sides, of nearly equal ability
and research, and in this way form his own conclusions
with comparative facility.
It must be acknowledged that periodicals are in many
respects a great intellectual convenience. They abbreviate
labor and place the results of the research of a few at the
service and disposal of the many. They sometimes facilitate the research of the student by directing him to the original sources of which he may desire to avail himself.
Oftentimes an article is better than a book. Especially is
this the case when the subject is out of our line and we
have time neither to look up authorities nor to study them.
Many of the most intelligent of readers are remote from
libraries and are unable to borrow or to purchase the books
which furnish the information or the estimates which they
desire. In a multitude of instances similar to these the
modern review or journal serves the most important purposes. It has greatly diffused information, abbreviated




346              Books and Reading.         [CUAP. XXI.
labor, and quickened thought. No man of sense would
think of dispensing with its aid or of depriving himself of
the gratification and stimulus which it furnishes. On the
other hand:
The excessive or even the constant reading of the best
reviews exposes to certain special dangers. First of all, it
tends to make the reader superficial so far, at least, as it
accustoms him to take up with second-hand information
and authorities. In respect to history and argumentwhether testimony concerning facts or reasoning to conclusions are required-the man who does not go to original
sources, is liable in spite of himself to receive inadequate or
one-sided impressions. The habit of taking one's knowledge or opinions at second-hand induces the feeling of submission and dependence, which can neither be hindered nor
disguised by the excessive confidence not to say effrontery
with which the habit is usually accompanied.
It tends to make a man a partisan in his opinions and
feelings. The attitude of the writers whom he reads is
more frequently a partisan attitude, and it is natural that it
should be. The habitual reader of one-sided argumentsespecially if he be himself devoted to the general views of
the journal in which he most confides-will be likely to be
formed and fixed insensibly to partisan ways of looking at
every subject. It can hardly fail to be true that one
should be moulded to partisan habits who is familiar with
one-sided and partisan literature.
Again: the ekclusive reading of this species of literature
may expose to skepticism or indifference concerning Truth
of every kind. To avoid narrowness and bigotry the
reader seeks to study a subject on every side. By doing
this he incurs the opposite danger of losing his confidence
in positive truth and earnestness in his own convictions. No
evil should be more earnestly deprecated than the evils of
intellectual libertinism  or skepticism  in respect to the




CarP. XXI.]   Newspapers and Periodicals.        347
great principles of moral, political and religious truth.
But to none is the quick-minded and susceptible reader
more exposed, who runs rapidly over the arguments on
both sides of great questions, all of which are second-hand
so far as authorities are concerned, all of which are partisan, all of which are contemptuous of their opponents, while
all are equally confident and pronounced. The reader who
begins the study of all sides through the medium of opposing periodicals, may at first be ingenuous, simple and
earnest. Reading rapidly as he may because the articles
are brief, passing quickly to the counter-article without
having given to the first sufficient reflection, and so to the
next, he finds himself dazed, confused and uncertain. If
he goes no farther, he will at least be in danger of concluding that no truth can be an established truth, on both sides
of which so much can be said, and may finally rest in the
desperate and despicable attitude of having no opinions
whatever in respect to  the most important questions.
Meanwhile he baptizes his weakness with a name of
strength.  He calls that liberality which is truly iibertinism. No single agency has been more efficient in the present century in diffusing this spirit among reading circles
than the habits induced by the extensive and many-sided
reading of second-hand literature. Men who are quickwitted and curious withal, and who desire to know all sides,
rush through reviews and books which are nothing better
than extended journalistic articles-books which are written in the bold, unfair.and declamatory style which review
writing has bred, and the habit of review reading demands
-and, return with the report: " We have gone everywhere
with the inquiry, What is truth? and have not yet found
an answer; there is no truth except, perhaps, in some blind
instincts or scanty intuitions which are as blind; the structures which law-givers and priests and teachers bid us receive and which the experience of other generations had




348              Books and Reading.         [CusP. xxr..
confirmed are all built upon the sand." The flippant dogmatism of most of the sophists of our time who so freely,
so confidently and apparently so learnedly, dispose of the
old philosophies, the old religions, the old laws, the old
educations, the old manners, and even the old decencies of
life, finds its readiest converts in the litterateurs who have
been inflated with conceit or paled with skepticism from
feeding exclusively on the second-hand literature which the
modern review has engendered.
The influence of the style and diction which the modern
review has required and cultivated, should not be passed
over. This diction is shaped too exclusively for immediate effectiveness to be altogether salutary in its influence.
The pungent and pithy antitheses, the slashing and unqualified assertions, the biting satire, and the caustic humor,
no less than the laudatory panegyrics, the ambitious rhetoric and the studied periods, which many very successful
reviewers have employed, are all bad examples of style,
even if they are not positively offensive to any one who
seeks to retain his intellectual integrity or a candid and
truth-loving spirit. Any community or generation of
readers must be in a bad way which gives itself up too exclusively to a school of writers who value effectiveness
more highly than truth. It would not be difficult to show
that no little demoralization of thought has come in as the
indirect result of the demoralization of style which the review has effected,-that it has infected books of history,
philosophy and physics with a vicious rhetoric, that is essentially superficial and sophistical, glazing not merely the
forms of expression with a false brilliancy, but making the
matter rotten to the core.
If it is not wise to allow our grave reading to be given
exclusively or in large proportion to the reviews, it follows
that too much of our lighter reading should not be devoted
to the less solid magazines. WVith all the ability by which




CHiAP. XXI.    Newspapers and Periodicals.       349
they are distinguished and the variety of excellence which
they have achieved, they cannot be the staple of one's
reading without serious evil.  Brilliant and various as
they are, often profound and sagacious, abounding as they
do with the choicest productions of the most gifted writers,
they are too desultory, their subjects are treated too briefly
and superficially, their tone is often too flippant and sensational, their judgments are too uncertain.and unsound, to
furnish the principal reading of any person; least of all,
of any young person. The young man or the young lady
whose solid reading is limited to the very best of these
magazines will doubtless find in them much intellectual excitement and no little good, but not without attendant evil.
The knowledge and education may be varied and useful,
but the school remains superficial and narrow. If on the
other hand they find their best reading in the magazine of
a lower grade their reading must be poor indeed; little better than a showy flippancy can come of it, if nothing
worse.
But whiat shall be said of the newspapers.
First, that they vary widely, from the very good down
to those which are contemptibly, not to say offensively
poor. Among these various grades there is ample room
for selection, from the leading metropolitan or provincial
newspaper which is characterized by more or less of ability
and principle, down to the sheet-whether in city or
country-which reflects the vulgar illiteracy of a low or
uncultured community, as well as flatters its self-conceit
and panders to its interests; from the high-toned religious
or literary journal down to one that is desperately partisan
in either of these spheres.
Second, newspapers are not only a great convenience
but an absolute necessity of modern life and civilization.
The overwrought and jaded brain may compel its possessor to escape from the news and their excitements by a voy



350              Books and Reading.         [CHAP. XXl.
age that parts him from the mail and the carrier, or he
may plunge into the wild retreat into which neither penetrate, but the call for the last newspaper is the first symptom that the brain is slightly refreshed by its rest.  The
comprehensive survey which the morning news gives us of
what happened yesterday in every part of the world enlarges immensely our intellectual vision; training us to the
habit of thinking habitually of the concerns of all the
world besides-and not only to the habit of thinking of
them but of comparing and adjusting one with another.
It sends the imagination round the world "in less tlan
forty minutes," bringing before it Englishman and Arab,
French and Tartar, Prussian and Chinese with their varieties of interests and civilization. This frequent and comprehensive review of the whole world stimulates the intelligence to discriminate and compare, as well as to search for
principles and laws. It induces tolerance for the principles
and ways that differ from  our own, charity towards the
whole family of man, despite of intellectual differences,
conflicting interests and hostile passions.
Third, the newspaper wherever it is free, is at present
very largely the educator and controller of public sentiinent, and hence has become a most potent instrument and
depositary of power. The editor is at this moment apparently more influential than preachers, judges or legislators. He is mightier than all these united. The confiding reader of a favorite newspaper often tests the sermons
of Sunday by the chapter and verse of the leading articles
of the week. He tries his elected rulers and judges before the bar of the newspapers.  He accepts and rejects
his lawmakers and the laws which they make according to
the revision of the editorial court of appeals. The newspaper press makes war and peace, writes up and down the
value of property and destroys or defends reputation.
It may be said indeed that this power is not unlimited,




CHAP. XXI.]    Newspapers and Periodicals.        351
because the press can regulate public opinion only so far as
it reflects it and adapts itself to it. It may be urged that
the editor controls and directs the great agencies of modern
life only as he skillfully anticipates and interprets them,
that he can command these only as man commands the
laws of nature, by first understanding and then obeying
them. This to a certain extent is true, but it is also true
that the press can inflame and excite agencies which but for
its influence would have slumbered forever, that it can
unite and concentrate forces which would have been feeble
so long as they were scattered, that it can give courage and
boldness to men and to causes which but for its inspiriting
influence, would have been perpetually cowed and repressed. It may also be said that whenever the press is
free it cannot mislead, for falsehood can be met by truth,
sophistry can be refuted by sound reasoning, party tricks
can be exposed, dishonesty can be made public, and in the
long run the truth and the right will prevail. This may
be true in the long run, but the time required may be too
long for the public good. Meanwhile, so far as the individual and a single generation are concerned the press has ample room to delude, to degrade and to destroy. It can deliberately and persistently flatter the vile, and hoodwink honest
men. It can act the part of the demagogue and the seducer
and the venal advocate. It can suppress the truth by conscious villainy and it- can set off error in false colors and
with factitious rhetoric. It can lower education and debauch public and private morals. It can dishonor the
noblest characters among the dead and the living. It can
induce skepticism in whatever is sacred or venerable, by
sneering and sophistry, and can adroitly conceal both. In
the name of science and taste and progress it can vulgarize
and degrade and put back all these for a century.
Fourth, many newspapers whose influence is not inconsiderable are low in their intellectual tone. While there




352              Books and Reading.         [CHAP. XXI.
is room in the editorial profession for the exercise of the
most consummate power and the most varied qualifications,
it is possible to be what is called a successful editor with
scanty knowledge and limited abilities.  Application is
necessary and a certain energy of endurance in small work.
If to this be added the tact at knowing what will please,
and what is called the knack of writing an editorial, success
is certain under circumstances ordinarily favorable. That
a multitude of newspapers do not exhibit any considerable
intellectual power or knowledge is too obvious to require
proof. Their readers recognize the indications of dullness
and incompetency. Feebleness of judgment and the want
of discrimination and intellectual force betray themselves
in every column. Silliness and bad taste sometimes break
out in oppressive manifestations, and general impotency are
everywhere exhibited. And yet for all these weaknesses, industry, business talent, and tact in understanding the demands of the public and skill in supplying these demands
may so far compensate for these glaring defects as to gain for
the paper an extensive circulation and no little influence.
Fifth, many newspapers are animated by a spirit that is
more or less insincere. Their editors and leading writers
have few convictions, i. e., few opinions which they hold
with earnestness and regard as of pre-eminent importance.
They profess to hold the principles of their party whether
political or religious. But all they mean by this is that
their paper is pledged as the organ of the party or its platform, and is thereby committed to the duty of publishing
those facts and arguments which favor these opinions, and
of suppressing or skillfully managing those which make
against them. Public'opinion is to a large extent regarded
as an effect which can be moulded and manipulated. The
influence of a paper is cast in favor of a particular movement or is thrown against it, by arts which are perfectly well
understood in the editor's closet. The habit of thus mani



CaAP. XXI.]    Newspapers and Periodicals.       353
pulating public opinion, if it never leads to trading in it,the consciousness of laying plans and of executing them to
arouse public sentiment in a given direction or to give it a
dexterous turn in favor of a measure or a man-is not over
friendly to that solidity and ardor of sentiment which
usually characterizes strong convictions or earnest principles. The necessity of writing upon many subjects in
which the writer cannot feel a special interest induces the
habits and temper of the advocate with his factitious simulations and artificial excitements. The discerning reader
finds only now and then a leader which bespeaks the solid
convictions of a high-toned and earnest man, which is
written because these cannot be repressed, and which seizes
hold of the mind with that power which earnestness always
excites. In other articles there may be ability, research
and strength; the subjects may be fairly treated and exhaustively presented, but the impression is not of a strong
nature thoroughly aroused.
This insincerity is manifested in its extremest form when
it produces the modern Bohemian, or the soldier of fortune
in the service of the newspaper press, who is ready for an
engagement whenever it offers, provided the pay is sure and
good, and sometimes when it is neither, provided the
"provant"-as the famous Dugald Dalgetty, an illustrious
member of the fraternity termed it-is ample and wellmoistened. He is a person of no mean qualifications, but
smart rather than solid and apt rather than trustworthy. He
has received an education more or less accomplished front
the finished classical culture of the English university down
to the scanty but stimulating curriculum of the printing
and editorial room. He has a facile command of the pen,
a good memory, a ready wit and infinite volubility. His
assurance is unbounded and his principles and his sense of
consistency never stand in the way of any engagement.
He does not hesitate to write leaders at the same time in
23




354              Books and Reading.         [CHAP. xxr.
the organs of two opposing parties-for and against protection or national banking, or whatever doctrine divides the
parties of the day. He is ready to applaud and to defame
any man for hire and to extol and depress the same man in
two successive weeks according to his engagement. He is
a regular Swashbuckler; the instrument of his power is
what is called a trenchant style, with ready command of
images, allusions and historic parallels, and a capacity
for blatherskite which is inexhaustible. He is, of course,
thoroughly insincere. He has no convictions except upon
a single point, and that is that those who pretend to have
any, are either weakly self-deceived or self-conscious knaves.
And yet no class of writers use the vocabulary of earnestness and honesty more fervently and impressively than he.
The Bohemian whom we have described is one of the extremest type. There may be few examples of one who is
so thoroughly consistent, but so far as the modern newspaper is insincere, so far is it animated by his spirit. We
do not assert that all newspapers are insincere. On the
contrary, there are not a few in which earnest convictions
and positive opinions are everywhere conspicuous. The
tone of such journals is unmistakable. One feels the presence of real, not pretended sincerity the moment he takes
up such a sheet. Sincerity not only rings through the editorials but it controls the selection and is apparent in the
very arrangement of its articles.
Sixth; the modern newspaper so far as it is insincere is
immoral and demoralizing. There are other reasons why
it is exposed to this charge. It is confessed that newt3papers are often unscrupulous in their statements of fact,
that they suppress the truth when it makes against them
and overstate that which would be in their favor. It is
notorious that the partisan temper and partisan tactics
very largely regulate the conduct of many so-called organs
not only of political but of religious parties. The news



Car. XXIr.]?vewspapers and Periodicals.        355
paper descends to inexcusable personalities,-both the
pure and indecent and the trivial and belittling. It often
delights in vituperation.  It even makes this to be its duty.
No sooner is a man conspicuous by holding a public position or is named as a candidate for it, than his private
character and affairs are made mattes of public comment,
either to flatter his vanity or to gratify the insane passion
for gossip which rules the public taste, or to excite the
prejudice and contempt of his opponents. Vituperation
of one's antagonist in politics or religion is esteemed one of
the cardinal virtues, if we may judge from the practice of
many journals. The more freely it is indulged the more
satisfactorily is the writer thought to discharge his duty
and the more completely is homage paid to public justice.
If a newspaper is devoted to some public reform in the
service of morality or freedom, or in vindication of the
rights of some class which is thought to be oppressed, it
takes the largest liberty of vituperation and discharges its
energetic denunciations in the manner of a brawling prophet. The end sanctifies the means. " Are not the enemies
of the proposed reform, enemies of all truth and does not
fidility to our cause require us to denounce them as such? "
Of not a few of these self-asserted and conspicuous champions of reform it is eminently true that their habit of
deliberately and persistently denouncing their opponents in
terms of unlicensed vituperation has become so much a second nature as to vitiate all their other excellences, and to
make the very organs of moral and political reform  to be
the instruments of private and public demoralization. Of
many of these advocates and organs it is not easy to decide whether the devil has in fact taken orders among the
reformers or whether the reformers have taken "to serving
the Lord as if the devil were in them."
It is not an unheard of thing that a paper edited with
consummate ability and that promised to be of high tone in




356              Books and Reading.         [CHaP. XXI.
respect of manners and morals, has with apparently cool
and deliberate resolve given itself to the project of forcing
itself into notoriety by a variety of sensational devices, and
pre-eminently by dragging before the public scandalous
rumors and more scandalous transactions, as well as by
grossly assailing theAharacters of public men, and following them and their friends with persistent slander.
The influence of a newspaper cannot but be demoralizing, however able its correspondence, or prompt and trustworthy its news, if the presiding genius of its editorial
sanctum  be a grinning, sneering Mephistopheles, and the
tone of the articles composed under this inspiration be that
of persistent banter of everything which honest men
reverence and brave men are ready to die for; the audacious drollery of which moves the whole community to
laughter, even when it moves honest men to virtuous
wrath. A Harlequin may be allowed in his place, but
we cannot welcome him in our churches or our oratories,
to sneer when we desire to worship; or find him congenial
to those sober moments when life at- least is real and
earnest, even if conscience and God are not.
Seventh, that some newspapers conspicuously rejoice in
bad examples'of English style need hardly be added.
This might be inferred if it were not so notorious. Where
there is insincerity, untruth and defect of principle there
must be more or less of bad English. While a few are
models of clear, unpretending, direct and nervous English, not a few are representatives of every description of
excess and over-doing, of carelessness and pretension, of
extravagance and "blatherskite," which are an offence to
the lovers of a pure and simple diction.
From these facts, the following may be derived as rules
in respect to the use of newspapers.
First. It is worse than unwise to allow newspapers to be
one's sole reading.  The temptation to do this is very




CHAP. XXI.]   Newspapers and Periodicals.        357
strong, and many yield to it. Men immersed in business
seem often shut up to this by necessity. Even professional
men who read or consult not a few books in the way of
duty allow the newspapers to take the place of other reading.
The merchant reads the money articles of the newspaper,
but rarely if ever a book upon banking or political economy. The farmer reads his agricultural journal, but never
a treatise. As to the politicians, both small and great, it is
enough for them to consult the current histories of domestic campaigns and foreign entanglements which the papers
furnish, without looking into books for the history of the
remoter past which has prepared the way for the present
and alone can explain it. Even if the leader is more instructive and more to the point than any book could be,
the book may be better because it opens a wider range of
considerations and so tends to enlarge the mind. The
newspaper is written more in the spirit of an advocate than
even a very one-sided book. The writer for the newspaper usually dogmatizes more and is more positive than the
author. The standard of manners and of temper is usually
far lower in the one than in the other. The style of the
book is ordinarily better. The best newspaper style suffers
under the necessity of compression or it abuses the liberty
of indefinite expansion and verbiage. The newspaper deals
with the present, and is hurried, narrow, confident and bustling. The book has to do with all times-the past, the present and the future, —and is in so far more calm, elevated
and sagacious. For these and other reasons it is observed that
the reader of newspapers only is more usually positive, conceited and flippant than the man who is also a reader of books.
Second. One should read good newspapers in preference.
WVe mean not only those which are able in thought and
pure in style, but those whose principles are pronounced and
whose manners are elevating. Many say and think: "It
is only a newspaper; of what consequence is it? VWe only




358              Books and Reading.        [CHAP. XXI.
glance at it for a moment or run through it for an hour
and then lay it aside. If its bad logic its unsound doctrines its vile insinuations and its profane banter were
in a book we would not tolerate the book for a moment,
but I and my children know, i;t is only the so or so, and
we let its unwisdom and its foulness pass for what they
are worth."  Mr. A. would not tolerate slander or mean
personalities for a moment in conversation at his table, and
yet Mr. A. takes a paper for himself and his children
which distribute both as freely and as maliciously as an
audacious villain ejects vitriol into the eyes or upon the apparel of passers by. He would not allow his family to read
a book that should gravely attack or sneeringly scoff at
his faith lest it should leave some unfavorable impressions, but he allows the daily slime of an insinuating
newspaper to hold their thoughts and to possess their imagination by a daily lesson and for a much longer time than
the lessons of Scriptures which are allotted to the morning
and evening devotions of his household.
Third. One should use the newspaper as a servant and
not as a master. Many confiding souls believe all that
the newspaper tells them and think it their duty.to justify
and defend all its statements, because forsooth it is the paper which they subscribe for or which is the organ of their
party. In like manner some go so far as to feel bound to
read every paper through. Neither is wise nor even safe.
No obligation rests upon any man to read or to believe the
whole of what any, even the best of newspapers may contain. The haste with which its news is gathered and its
opinions are expressed, the very great extent to which the
most honest and best qualified managers are dependent
upon the fidelity of others, to say nothing of the force of
the passions and prejudices of the hour and the demands
of the party or the public whose good will the paper is desirous to secure, all these constitute it an unsafe guide to




CHAP. XXI.]   Newspapers and Periodicals.       359
be implicitly believed or followed. If it is often wise to
regard our books with a kind of suspicion and to guard
against their excessive influence, much more should we do
the same with respect to our newspapers, even if they are
the best.
We have questioned whether the saying were altogether
true that, "No man is the wiser for his books until he is
above them."  We cannot question that it is true of newspapers.
Fourth. Every one should remember that he is to some
degree responsible for the character of the issues from the
newspaper press. The newspapers of a country it should
never be forgotten are no worse or better than the people
would have them to be. They are a, reflex of the knowledge and tastes of the majority of their readers. We cannot resist this inference however humiliating at times it
may be.  More than one intelligent defender of our
country in Europe has been arrested and disturbed in his
argument by the question, " How do you explain the fact
that such and such a newspaper has so extensive a circulation among your people?" It would be well if every man
who buys or reads a newspaper would think of this question and of the lessons of duty and honor which it suggests.




CHAPTER XXII.
THE LIBRARY.
READERS of books desire to become the owners of books.
The pleasure and advantage which are derived from the use
of a volume, prompt to the wish that it may be constantly
within reach. Hence, books like everything else which is
desirable come to be sought for and valued as property.
The child is not satisfied with using a picture-book, he
must call the book his own. The persistent litterateur and
the veteran scholar value no purchase or gift so highly as
a rare or elegant volume. The enthusiastic and devoted
reader, if he has the means and the spirit of independence,
usually becomes the buyer and owner of books. Every
reader gathers about himself something of a library. Every
community so soon as it rises above the most pressing and
immediate wants, feels the need of a collection of books
which may supply its higher necessities. We cannot therefore properly dismiss our theme of Books and Reading
without also considering The Library.
We begin with the personal or private Library. The
thought which first suggests itself is the very obvious one,
that the size of a library when collected by a single person
for his private use depends on his means, his liberality, his
feeling of independence, his duties and relations to others,
and the comparative estimate which he places upon books;
not upon any one of these, but upon all united. A man
comparatively poor, may contrive to acquire a larger collection of books than a man who is rich, simply because he cares
more for them, and in order that he may possess them is
3on,;)




CHAP. XXII.]      The Library.                   361
willing to forego many other possessions and enjoyments.
On the other hand a man of ample means and of decided
literary tastes may deny himself the convenience and luxury of a library for such reasons of duty as would lead
him to forego other conveniences or luxuries.
It is the quality not the size of the private library in
which we are most nearly interested. Some persons buy
books chiefly for use, and the library which they collect is
conspicuously professional. The physician must at least
have his treatises on physiology, surgery and the materia
medica; the lawyer cannot dispense with a copy of the
Statutes or with a book of legal forms; the clergyman, provided he can read, must own a Bible, a commentary and a
concordance. These indispensables naturally expand into
those formidable libraries which are strictly professional;
libraries which are "caviare to the general;" but which to
the individual worker with the brain, are literally his "tools
of trade." However unintelligible and uninteresting such
a library is to a layman, it is full of interest and importance to the artist, the mechanic, or any other professional
worker.
Often persons collect books for enjoyment. It is to them
a luxury and delight to read history and biography, fiction
and poetry, eloquence and criticism. To have a large collection of books of all these descriptions constantly within
their reach, is to have at hand treasures and luxuries with
which nothing else deserves to be compared. They say with
another, " I no sooner come into the library but I bolt the
door to me, excluding lust, ambition, avarice, and melancholy herself, and in the very lap of eternity, amongst so
many divine souls, I take my seat with so lofty a spirit and
sweet content that I pity all our great ones, and rich men
that know not this happiness."
Still other persons buy books for show. They like the
sight of elegant books in substantial and costly bindings.




332              Books and Reading.         [CHAP. XXII.
The show itself is pretty to the eye and the associations are
grateful to the mind, that knows enough of the use and
value of books to be flattered by the company with which
the possession of books connects the owner. It is gratifying to gaze upon the stately folios as they support the
elegant yet substantial octavos, and these the compact and
genteel duodecimos, and these the daintier sizes-to behold
some in polished calf, skilfully tooled in figures of arabesque;
others in levantine turkey, rich with its deeply grained colors; others in the gayer hues of the French chagrin, bright
with red and green and blue; and others still in the many
varieties of German finish; and others distinguished by the
Roman vellum, delicately set off with its tracery of gilt.  It
is a proud -act for the owner of such an expensive collection
to introduce a friend or a guest to his treasures with their
appropriate accessories of illustrated works, choice engravings, illuminated missals, etc., and to count up the cost of
his expenditures in honor of letters and art.
Others still, buy for curiosity and for rareness.  Learned
and sharp-cut Elzevirs, jelegant Aldines, much sought Incunabula, Editiones principes, books with autographs or annotations of former owners famous in literature, books
made up by mosaic handicraft of illustrations collected far
and near, tall paper copies, survivors of scanty or exhausted
editions, all these are bought with princely liberality and
are exhibited with natural pride to the select few who can
judge and estimate them as only diamond fanciers estimate diamonds.
Others buy a Library for the convenience of their families or friends; being themselves too busy to have much to
do with books or having no decided taste for books, but
desiring to cultivate their tastes or enlarge their knowledge and. usefulness.
The personal Library is often in a sense the embodiment
of the spirit of its collector and owner. It certainly is a




CRAP. XXII.]         The Library.                   363
striking manifestation of his tastes, habits, character and
pursuits.  This is always true if the Library is collected with any special zeal, and the owner is free to indulge
his Special proclivities. We can usually interpret the tastes
and principles of a man,-often we can discover his
crotchets and prejudices by simply inspecting his library.
The mass of his collection may be such books as "no
gentleman's library should be without;" but the discerning eye will spy out here and there a volume or a seriesperhaps in some private corner-which reveal his peculiar
tastes and his inmost feelings. Very often the indications
are so obvious as to need no special sagacity for their interpretation. Even if the library is not prevailingly professional, it will reveal to the hasty observer of its shelves,
whether its owner is mathematician, physicist or linguist,
and in what speciality of each; and this whether he is a
proficient or amateur. If he is devoted to history, his
library will show it, and will also make known the kind
of history in which he delights. The lover of poetry, or
fiction or literary criticism, and the man of many-sided and
universal tastes will be as distinctly revealed.  The dominant tastes, the ruling aims, the controlling principles can
often be gathered from the presence or absence of certain
classes of books. With equal distinctness the fact is proclaimed whether he is a believer in God or in Nature, in
Christ or in Humanity. If he is a Christian believer, his
theological creed and his religious earnestness may be conjectured with similar confidence.
By the same rule the growth of a library when it is unconstrained by hindrances or influences from without, is a
record and memorial of the growth and changes of the
owner's intellect and tastes, and perhaps of sudden or gradual transformations in his aims and principles.  If he has retained his early school books and with them the tales and
lives which delighted his childhood, these well thumbed




<3o             Books and JReading.      [:HAP. XXII.
and tattered volumes will tell to him at least, a story of the
delight with which he read and re-read Robinson Crusoe,
the Arabian Nights, the adventures of Philip Quarles or the
memoirs of Baron Trenck; or perhaps of the ardent zeal for
knowledge which led him to labor with his own hands that
he might buy his first Greek Grammar or a better Greek
Lexicon. It is often a wonder to the fastidious observer
or the careful housekeeper, who look at books with the bodily eye, why in an expensive and luxurious library there is
often carefully preserved some shelf of these worthless and
battered volumes which they would consign to the paper
maker or the flames. They little know what precious memories are stored upon that shelf and gather about each of
those soiled and damaged books. But the books which
most vividly bring back to the owner his youthful self
will be those few favorite authors, which he longed so earnestly to possess when he first conceived the idea of forming a library of his own. How often did he ponder the
questions, What book or books did he care most to possess?
or Which could he afford to buy?  How often did he go
into the book-shop and gaze upon and handle the much
coveted volume! It may have been some work of a poet
like Byron or Scott, who had first waked in his soul the
feeling for poetry, or an old philosopher like Butler -or
Berkeley, or a new philosopher like Coleridge, or a newer
sage like Carlyle or Emerson. What fresh and fervid associations are wakened within him as the identical volumes
are taken in hand which twenty or forty years before he
carried home without weariness and installed upon his empty shelves with such positive delight. Upon these shelves
they still remain. Though they have been alm6st crowded
out by other favorites they never can be thrust wholly
aside, for they hold their place as witnesses and memorials
of tastes and moods which can never be forgotten, though
they may have been long outgrown. Other shelves testify




CHAP. XXII.]        The Library.                   365
to later passages in his life's progress; one to an awakened
passion for history, another to a newly kindled zeal for
literary criticism. In one division stand the sophists who
weakened the faith of the owner in the fixed principles and
the severe moralities of his childhood's faith. In another
the wise teachers who recovered him from these sophistries
and bewilderments. The field of the intellectual activities
and the objects of the prevailing tastes of one decade of his
life are here. Those of another are there. One group of
books was purchased in the excitement of a zeal and of
ardent purposes which Nwere soon dissipated into irresolution and sloth. As the eye of the industrious reader runs
along the shelves of his library in an hour of musing, it
can read upon them the successive passages that make up
the history of his life. In view of facts like these it is not
in the least surprising that so many have cleaved to their
libraries with so fond an affection, and have learned to conceive of them as parts of themselves, as in a sense visible
and tangible embodiments of their own being; or that they
part from their beloved books with especial tenderness
when they part from their lives.. Many a student will
understand and appreciate the desire of Prescott the historian that when arrayed for the grave he might be left
alone.in the library which had been so long the scene of
his labors and the object of his zealous care.
The preservation of a library to another generation, especially if it was carefully selected or was the object of its
owner's special affection, is to many a matter of no little importance-with no less reason surely than the preservation
of silver or other heirlooms which belonged to a parent or
near relative. The latter witness to the taste of the owner
as to material form or workmanship, or perhaps are interesting memorials of the arts of another generation. The
other is a memorial of the intellectual and moral tastes of
the spirit as -well as an image of the culture and the pro



366             Books and Reading.          [CHAP. XXII.
ducts of the generation in which he lived. The haste and
apparent heartlessness with which the libraries of students
and literary men are often broken up after their death is
something surprising and offensive. To know that the
library of Scott still stands in Abbotsford, that the library
of Daniel Webster remains unsold in Marshfield, that the
library of. Theodore Parker is kept intact and unbroken in
the Boston city collection, that the library of Charles
Julius Hare stands by itself in the library of Trinity College at Cambridge, is far more satisfactory to our feelings
than it is to hear that the libraries of Thackeray and
Dickens were sold and distributed within a few months after
the death of each. The extravagant prices at which many
of their books were sold must have been more satisfactory
to their heirs than the fact that they were willing to sell
the books at all, is pleasing to the admirers of their former
owners. It would seem, at least, that the disintegration of
a beloved library which has been the outgrowth of a reading life and is itself a transcript of its history might sometimes be delayed a few months longer, out of decent respect
to the associations with which it is hallowed. It not unfrequently happens that it passes unbroken into the library of
some public institution, and remains as an honored memorial of the individual and his times; of his own liberality
or that of his family. The library of a reading clergyman,
which has been consecrated alike by his love of books and
his love of his people, if he dies among them, should never
be disposed of except to become the permanent possession
of the parish.
Thoughts of the personal library suggest those of its
natural enemies, the book-borrower, who delays or forgets to
return the books which he borrows-and the book-stealer,
who never intends to restore the books which have come
into his possession by accident or design.  WTide lacuno?
gaping for months or years testify to the carelessness of the




CHAP. XXrI.]       The Library.                    367
book-borrower, and the impatient and sometimes indignant
reflections of the owner as these unfilled places and broken
sets meet his eye, testify to his sense of abused kindness
and confidence. May the shadow of the book-borrower
very soon be less or may his habits speedily be reformed!
May the succession speedily be broken and his lineage be
altogether cut off! As to the book-stealer; the enormity of
his offense cannot be expressed in language. Words would
fail altogether to set forth his ill-desert and infamy. The
Book-collector and the Biblio-maniac have been too often
commemorated to receive more than a passing tribute of
respect.  We honor their zeal and admire their eccentricities, for we see in their excesses only the luxuriance of
noble impulses and worthy aspirations. They are the
auchorets of literature, the devotees whose very excesses reprove and put to shame the coldness and negligence of
ordinary worshipers.
From the library of the individual we pass to the library
of the household, from  the private to the home library.
Every home should have its library even if it does not
comprise a score of volumes. " A house without books,"
says H. W. Beecher, "is like a room without windows.
No man has a right to bring up his children without surrounding them with books if he has the means to buy
them. A library is not a luxury but one of the necessaries
of life. * * A book is better for weariness than sleep;better for cheerfulness than wine;- * * * it is often a
better physician than the doctor, a better preacher than the
minister, a better sanctuary than the drowsy, church." The
presence of good books in any house is a sign of elevation
and a perpetual reminder of the wants and aspirations of
the higher nature. Books lay hold of the intellect and
character in ways that can neither be anticipated nor traced.
The child that grows up in the presence of books will feel
their power almost before he is allowed to open them. If




368            Books and Reading.          [CHAP. XXII.
books are provided in a house, some one, at least, of the
family will develop a taste for reading them. The entire
household will by degrees form the habit of consulting
books, and of answering from books the many questions
suggested by conversation or the newspapers. The irrepressible zeal for reading manifested by a single member
of the family will excite the envy or the emulation of the
remainder. Leisure hours which might have been wasted
in indolence or worse than wasted in sin will be beguiled
by the tale or instructed by the history. The conversation
of the household will concern more profitable themes than
the gossip of the hour. Higher aims and ideals will be
proposed. Contentment, industry and frugality may be
learned from bpoks. The lessons of duty are taught and
the aspirations of piety evoked by a good home library.
Such a library will stimulate and direct the desire to embellish the house and decorate the grounds. It will encourage intelligent skill in the management of one's trade
or profession and even in regulating the economies of the
household. By its presence and influence the family will
rise to a higher plane of true culture and the realization of
a more intelligent moral and Christian life. There is no
good economy in dispensing with a library. It is almost
better to dispense with a carpet. It is certainly cheaper to
do without a new set of fashionable furniture.  "I should
like of all things to spend from three to five hundred dollars in a library," said a gentleman in active business, with
some thousands of capital at his command, "but I cannot
afford the interest of the investment." He did not reflect
that the house, the furniture and the equipage which he
could not forego, were all an investment of capital, returning no rents in money, but manifold in comfort and civilization. It may not be wise to spend a large amount of
money at once upon a library, but it is wise to regard books
among the necessaries of life and to allow the library to




CaAP. XXII.]        The Library.                 369
come in for its share of the outfit of the household, as well
as for its portion of the yearly expenses. A few books, at
least, should be found in every home, and kept constantly
within reach, however ample are the facilities furnished by
the public library. These books no family should be content to be without for a day. They are so to speak the
foundation stones of the library. An English dictionary,
a good atlas, an encyclopedia of some sort are among these
books. We assume that the house will have a Bible and
some kind of a commentary or Bible dictionary. Beyond
these no directions can be given in respect to the home library, which cannot be gathered from the discussions of the
several topics, of which we have treated. Brief Suggestions
for Household Libraries is the title of a useful tract issued
in 1867 by G. P. Putnam & Son, to which are appended
specimen catalogues of libraries of different sizes, the first of
350 volumes, the second of 500 additional volumes, and
the third of 450 more; to which are appended.the titles
of "a collection of 50 volumes of useful and desirable books
in economical and compact editions for a young man's book
shelves." This tract was a useful guide for the time when
it was issued, and with additions from books since published, may do good service.
The Home Library should have a place for its contents,
even if it is no larger than a candle-box or occupies only a
single shelf. The light of the house should stand upon a
candlestick. The household Penates should be honored with
a shrine, whether the home be hired apartments, a rude cabin
or a contracted cottage. The fountain of intelligence and
refinement should be found in a place that is convenient,
neat and tasteful, whether this place is a tidy corner of the
kitchen, a tasteful recess in the sitting room or a separate
apartment. If the library has a room by itself, this should
be suitably furnished and decorated, not too daintily for
common and comfortable use, but cheerfully and attrac24




370              Books and Reading.       [CHAP. XXII.
tively to the eye and the mind. It should at times be the
resort of the children and the gathering-place of chosen
friends, that books and the use of books may be associated
with innocent pleasures and conimon duties.
The books of the Home Library should be choice books
and in general select and standard volumes. The books of
one house, whether there is a score or a thousand, will reveal
the fact that they have been picked up by chance, either
at the solicitations of the persistent book agent or the suggestions of a vagrant fancy. Those of another indicate at
a glance that they were chosen with definite purposes and
by a discriminating judgment. If the home remains to
the second or third generation, let not the library be scattered,
but let the books of the preceding generation testify to the
intelligence and the refinement of those whose spirits are
gathered with the dead. With the portraits of the persons of
parents and relatives, there should always be connected the
books which represent their inner life. Manifold are the
thoughts and instructive the musings which are suggested
by the family library in the few homes in which it is retained in the ownership of the successive generations.
The Home Library suggests the library of the community, whether this community be a neighborhood, a
school, a parish, a village, a city, a college or a State.
The establishment of a neighborhood or a village library
is as natural and almost as necessary as the setting up of a
grist mill or a town pump. When individuals and families
sensibly feel the want of books and cannot supply them
from their separate resources, they proceed to provide a
common supply. The social library indicates an advance
in civilization in respect to the development of wants and
the capacity to supply them. It was an epoch in the history
of certain of the older states when such libraries began to
be common. This was not far from that awakening into
life which terminated in the war of independence. The




CHAP. XXII.]         The Library.                  371
new communities that went out from those of the older states
which had school-houses and social libraries, established
both, long before their log houses disappeared. Daniel Webster's intellectual growth was nourished from the little library which his father started in the beginnings of a pioneer
settlement, when books were few and costly. Dr. Franklin
contributed largely to the establishment of these social libraries. In 1731 he and some few of his friends in Philadelphia procured fifty subscribers of forty shillings each as capital, and ten shillings a year for forty years. In 1742 a
charter was obtained, and the number of subscribers was
increased to one hundred. "This was the mother of all the
North American subscription libraries now so numerous."
"These libraries," Franklin adds, "have improved the general conversation of the Americans, made the common
tradesmen and farmers as intelligent as most gentlemen in
other countries, and perhaps have contributed in some degree to the stand so generally made throughout the colonies
in defence of their privileges." In 1786 Dr. Franklin made
a present of 116 volumes to the town of Franklin in Massachusetts which took his name; on occasion of which gift,
the Pastor preached a sermon upon the text "Show thyself
a man." Eighty years ago it was observed by a traveler, of
the people of this country, "It is scarcely possible to conceive the number of readers with which every little town
abounds.  The common people are on a footing in point
of literature with the middle ranks of Europe." Subscription or share-holders' libraries existed in almost all the
towns of New England at the beginning of the present century. The consequences were that there was no little
activity of thought, especially in regard to history, politics
and theology. The curiosity of the youth of both sexes
was stimulated as well as their taste for imaginative literature. Those wlho were especially fond of reading had ample
leisure. The books in these libraries were solid and sub



:372            Books and Readin.        [CHAP. xxr1.
stantial. Though their number was not great and their
contents not over exciting, yet they awakened such a measure of solid and thoughtful intelligence as has been known
in but few other communities in the world's history. One
of these village libraries the writer has abundant occasion to
remember. It was founded in 1795, and still survives, numbering with all its losses by use and sale and distribution
nearly two thousand, among which are several of the original well-worn volumes. At the time referred to it consisted
of some seven hundred books all bound in leather and carefully protected by an additional cover of brown sheep skin.
The books were kept in substantial and locked cases, in the
front and rear halls of an old-fashioned square dwellinghouse. The meetings for drawing and returning books
were held on the first Sunday evening of every month.
The share-holders or their representatives assembled in the
ample kitchen which was always made tidy and cheerful
for this grave assembly of the chief personages of the village. As one and another dropped in, each with his monthly load of books (three was the quota) and saw them credited,
he took his place in the circle which speedily numbered
some twenty or thirty. Conversation had already started
in knots or in common, upon the topics of fresh interest at
home or abroad, in which the freest interchange of' opinion
was indulged. This exchange was immeasurably superior
to that of the modern newspaper for the vividness and
interest of the impression. To boyish ears and minds, the
revelations of character and the utterances of novel thoughts
were most instructive and exciting. WThen the hour for
receiving books arrived, the names were drawn by lot, and
the person whose name was first had the choice of all the
library. The newest books were naturally preferred. Every
b0ook as it was drawn was set up for a bid, which rarely in
those frugal times exceeded more than eight or ten cents, after
the sharpest competition even for the last of the Waverly




CHAP. XXII.]        The Library.                 373
series. But all this has gone by. The library now stands
in the office of the Town Clerk, is open at all hoars, and the
excitements of the "library meeting" have vanished forever.
In many of the cities, these subscription libraries have
grown to very expensive and valuable collections. The
Boston Atheneum, and the Society Library of New York,
are of this character. Some of these have been.opened.
the public on payment of annual subscriptions. More
recently, public libraries in cities and large villages have
been founded by public-spirited individuals who.have subscribed liberally for a building and the purchase of books,
which have been made available to any one by the payment of an annual fee. Young Men's Institutes and similar Associations, have formed libraries substantially upon
this plan, with the addition of courses of lectures, at first
for instruction and improvement, more recently for amusement and pecuniary gain. Circulating or lending libraries have usually been individual enterprises.  In England two or three large establishments purchase several
hundred copies of every popular book and send them to
subscribers.in every part of the kingdom.
Book clubs are often a good substitute for a social.library;where none exists, or a supplement to it when a few
neighbors wish to read a special class of books which the
library cannot furnish or cannot furnish readily. It is easy
to organize a book club with no more than five persons if
they will agree'to pay in an annual subscription and buy a
few books. On the fly leaf paste the following directions
over a printed or written list of the names of partners, in
the order of their residence, with blank columns for entering the date when the book was received and when it was
sent to the next neighbor. " Books to be forwarded on
Saturday.  Books may be retained 1t days for the first
reading, 28 days for the second reading. _Five cents fine
For each day's detention over 14."  When the book has




374              Books and Reading.       [CHar. xxII.
gone the round it should be sent to the librarian, and when
the company please to order it, the books can be disposed of
by lot or by sale. The volume from which these regulations were copied is numbered 1481, and the club has existed for some thirty years.
An important impulse has been given to the establishment of libraries in connection with the increased interest
awakened in our Public Schools. In some of the states the
effort has been made to provide every school district with
a library which should not only be adapted to the wants
of those attending upon the schools but to the necessities
of the whole community. In the State of New York particularly, considerable appropriations have been made by
the legislature with the design of establishing libraries
" not so much for the benefit of children attending school,
as for those who have completed their common school education. The main design was to throw  into school districts, and to place within reach of all the inhabitants, a
collection of good works on subjects calculated to enlarge
their understandings and store their' minds with useful
knowledge."  The suggestion was very natural that the
school system which furnished elementary instruction for
the young might properly continue to minister light and
knowledge with the advancing years of successive school
generations. It was also believed that the money and organization required- for the sustentatioai of a school might be
advantageously used for the support of a public library.
The plan has been tried with varying success. The objections are obvious.  School teachers and school cominittees are not necessarily the most suitable trustees for
the management of a library for all classes of readers.
They would naturally be tempted to allow too large a
share of the library to books required by teachers and
adapted to young persons. In ordinary school districts
says a competent witness, "Experience proves that it is




CHAP. XXII.]        The Library.                  375
impracticable to maintain libraries for general reading:
They are usually too feeble to awaken popular interest, or
claim proper care or protection. By uniting the interests
and resources of a whole town, suitable cases, room or
building, and a responsible librarian are secured. Among
a dozen districts, each library grows diminutive, and at
length the books are scattered beyond recall." (Rev. B. G.
Northrop, School Report for Conn. 1868.)  An  experiment made to establish public libraries in the State of
Rhode Island as an auxiliary to, but not as a part of the
public school system, was successful in every town except
four. It was backed by the liberal contributions of individuals, but its success was owing to the untiring zeal for
four years, 1846-1849, of the then school commissioner,
Hon. Henry Barnard.
Out of this movement.for school Libraries another has
grown into form, the establishment of free Town Libraries
by the action of the towns themselves. Its history is not
uninteresting.  In 1847, Rev. Francis Wayland, doubtless
excited by the movement then in progress in Rhode Island,
tendered five hundred dollars to the town in Massachusetts
which bore his name, "on condition that its citizens should
secure an equal amount for a town library." More than
the sum required was raised by subscription. But as
doubts were raised about -the right of a town to tax its
inhabitants for a library building, Rev. John B. Wight, a
representative from the town in 1851, procured the enactment of a law authorizing cities and towns to establish
and maintain public libraries. This has led to the formation and enlargement of many libraries, some of which have
been generously endowed by private munificence as well
as by public taxation. In not a few cities and villages
of several states the library is established in the affections of the community.. Not only is it generously supported, but the books which it contains are extensively




376             Books and Reading.        [CRAP. XXII.
used by a large number of the inhabitants. In Boston the
Public Library is pointed out to the visitor as the pride of
the city. In Springfield a handsome building has been
erected containing a valuable library, which is maintained
by the city and is free to all. In Stockbridge and Lenox,
buildings appropriate and substantial contain the village
libraries which private generosity and public taxation have
provided and sustained. In not a few of the cities and
large towns the name of some public-spirited citizen
or former resident is remembered by the Library which is
called after his name. The name of Logan is thus honored
in Philadelphia, the name of Astor in New York, the name
of WCatkinson in Hartford, of B ronsorn in Waterbury, of
Otis in Norwich and of Chteney in South Manchester, the
names of Jackson and Goodrich in Stockbridge, and the
name of Peabody in Danvers and Baltimore. There is
scarcely a village in the older settlements from which some
citizen has not gone forth who has acquired a fortune more
or less ample. If he would be honorably remembered
among the scenes of his childhood and youth he can accomplish his desire in no way so usefully as by erecting a
simple fire-proof building, and founding a village library.
We have.already observed how hard it is for the student
to part from his books-and how painful the thought that
his library must be scattered. This can be avoided by giving one's library to the collection of the parish or the town,
or by depositing it in the care of some public institution.
The learned library of the Mathers still remains in the
Antiquarian Hall at Worcester to testify to the learning
of its collectors and the lore of their times. The library
which Rev. Thomas Prince gathered with such pains and
expense for fifty years was kept by the church of which he
was p)astor for more than three quarters of a century, and
is now committed to the public library of Boston. A choice
library carefully collected by a country clergyman in New




CHAP. xxIn.]        The Library.                 377
England was given by his widow to an infant university
in Oregon.
It will be thought, perhaps, that we ought not to overlook the Sunday-school Library. We had designed to
speak of this and of juvenile literature in general, but the
subjects are too important to be disposed of in a chapter.
That children are over-stimulated with reading we do not
doubt. That the quality is often as objectionable as the
quantity of their books is no less clear to our minds.
We are equally well satisfied that the Sunday-school and
juvenile library too often take the place of the home
and the public library; and indeed, that children are
pampered to so great an excess that their appetite for good
reading is not infrequently ruined. It becomes of less consequence that the supply of wholesome books for such
adults is often cut short by the expenditure required to
still the imperious cries of the young Olivers for " more."
The college and university library must not be left without notice. We offer no argument for their utility.  It is
self-evident that without a complete library no institution
of learning can attain the highest rank, or continue to attract or educate scholars of finished culture.
We began these papers by introducing a savage to a
public library. We cannot more appropriately conclude
them than by imagining a thoughtful scholar,-3 take his
place. The same objects meet the bodily eye, but very
different are the thoughts which the books awaken in the
soul that has been refined and enriched by the culture
which books impart. They recall the history and achievements of the forgotten past. Every volume suggests a
living author who thought and toiled in history, or speculation, or experiment; in eloquence, or poetry, or fiction.
At the reading cf the titles the scholar thinks of these




378                  Books and Reading.                  [CHAP. XXII.
men as still living, then of the generation of men among
whom they labored, then of their honorable fame or their
deserved infamy, of their pure aspirations or their debasing passions, of their greatness or their meanness, of
their precious legacy of solid  truth and quickening  emotions or of pernicious sophistry and vile suggestions.  The
topic has been often treated of, but by no writer more
briefly and effectively than by Southey in the lines which
a house filled with books and a life devoted to reading
were fitted to inspire.
My days among the dead are past;
Around me I behold,
Where'er these casual eyes are cast,
The mighty minds of old.
My never-failing friends are they,
With whom I converse day by day.
With them I take delight in weal,
And seek relief in woe;
And while I understand and feel
How much to them I owe,
My cheeks have often been bedew'd
With tears of thoughtful gratitude.
My thoughts are with the dead; with them
I live in long-past years;
Their virtues love, their faults condemn,
Partake their hopes and fears;
And from their lessons seek and find
Instruction with an humble mind.
My hopes are with the dead: anon
My place with them will be,
And I with them shall travel on
Through all Futurity:
Yet leaving here a name, I trust,
That will not perish in the dust.




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EDINBURGH  REVIEW. - "The BEST History of the Roman Republic."
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of the Roman Commonwealth."
iGOW  R EA DY, V O J   E I V.
OF THE
Si.Ato1    of J                          ome,
FROM THE EARLIEST TIME TO THE PERIOD OF ITS DECLINE.
By Dr. THEODOR MOMMSEN.
Translated, with the author's san6tion and additions, by the Rev. W. P. DICKSON, Regius
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the University of St. Andrews. With an Introduction by Dr. LEONHARD SCHMITZ, and
a copious Index of the whole four volumes, prepared especially for this edition.
REPRINTED FROM THE REVISED LONDON EDITION.
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Dr. MOMMSEN has long been known and appreciated through his researches
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the most thoroughly versed scholar now living in these departments of historical investigation. To a wonderfully exa6t and exhaustive knowledge of
these subjects, he unites great powers of generalization, a vigorous, spirited,
and exceedingly graphic style and keen analytical powers, which give this
history a degree of interest and a permanent value possessed by no other
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which he inspires in every portion of his book. He is without an equal in his own sphere."
— Edinburgh Reviewv.
"A book of deepest interest."-Dean Trench.




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