[64] Bishop Lightfoot's 'Ignatius and Polycarp,' by Prof. A. Harnack,
Ph.D, in 'Expositor' for December, 1885, p. 401.
[65] 'The Apostolic Fathers,' p. 116. By Canon Scott Holland.
[66] [Greek: hechtroma], 'Ep. to the Romans,' 9, with Bp. Lightfoot's
note. Compare 1 Corinth. xv. 8.
[67] Herod, vii. 31, 187.
[68] 'Ep. to the Rom.' 5, 'to the Ephes.' II, with note
[69] See the useful Table in i. 222, and the excursus on 'Spurious and
Interpolated Epistles' in i. 223-266. Cf. also the 'Appendix Ignatiana,'
ii. 587, &c.
[70] Such as Eusebius and Theodoret. Cf. i., pp. 137-40, 161-4. The
catena of quotations and references from the second to the ninth
century, given in i. 127-221 (cf. the hint on p. 220) is most important
for the construction of the text, and as a preliminary to the
determination of the priority and authenticity of the Epistles.
Harnack's objections to the quotation from Lucian (i. 129) are not
shared by Baur or Renan, and are indirectly met by Bishop Lightfoot, i.
331-5.
[71] Stephen Marshall, Edward Calamy, Thomas Young, Matthew Newcomen,
William Spurstow.
[72] i, 79 For example, as regards the order of the words in the Greek
text this latin translation may be treated as an authority. The Greek is
rigidly followed without any regard for Latin usage. So also Greek
articles are scrupulously reproduced, in violation of Latin idiom. New
or unusual Latin words are introduced to correspond as exactly as
possible to the original; _e.g._ ingloriatio = [Greek: akanchesia];
multibona ordinatio = [Greek: to polyeutaktan], &c.
[73] See i. 72. For the text edited by Dr. W. Wright, see ii. 657., &c.;
and for a translation, ii. 670, &c.
[74] 'De scriptis quae sub Dionysii Areopagitae et Ignati Antiocheni
nominibus circumferuntur,' &c. (1666). The Bishop of Durham
characterizes Daille's treatment of the Ignatian writings as marked 'by
deliberate confusion.' He knows the facts, but makes the Vossian letters
bear all the odium attached to the 'long' recension. Pearson's work,
'Vindiciae Epistolarum S. Ignatii,' appeared six years later in 1672.
This reply as compared with the attack was 'as light to darkness.' In
England it closed the controversy.
[75] Trall. 5.
[76] See, for example, Rom. 4, 9: Trall. 3, 13; Ephes. 1, 3, 21.
[77] Rom. 5.
[78] Smyrn. 8.
[79] See i. 400, 405.
[80] Consult Bishop Lightfoot's Essay on this subject in his Commentary
on the Epistle to the Philippians (p. 181, &c.). The 'Teaching of the
Twelve Apostles,' published in 1884, is rightly referred to now by the
Bishop of Durham as confirming his positions.
[81] Comp. Irenaeus, 'Haer.' iii. 3, Sec. Sec. 3,4; iii. 14, Sec. 2.
[82] Essay in 'Philippians,' p. 218.
[83] Cf. Bishop Lightfoot's edition of 'St. Clement of Rome,' App. p.
252, &c.
[84] Iren. 'Haer.' iii. 3, 4.
[85] Cf. i. 568, &c.
[86] See i. 50, &c.; ii. 532. The Bishop of Durham's collection of facts
and references dealing with this subject is an admirable
specimen--everywhere repeated--of the exhaustive treatment he applies to
single points.
[87] Letter of the Smyrnaeans, Sec. 12.
[88] He had learnt the trick of keeping lighted tow or straw in his
mouth. See other instances in Milman's 'History of the Jeos,' ii. 429,
n. _x_.
[89] Cf. Justin Martyr in Eusebius, 'Hist.' iv, 8.
[90] i. 422, 629, &c. Mr. Rendell, in the 'Studia Biblica' (oxf. 1885),
has come to the same conclusion by an independent treatment.
[91] Haer. v. 33, 34.
[92] Euseb. 'Hist. Eccl.' v. 20
[93] Iren. 'Haer.' iii. 3.
[94] The genuineness of the main document (at least) is unaffected by
recent attacks. The impugning process of Schuerer, Lipsius, and Kelm has
been successfully resisted by Renan, Hilgenfeld (in part), and the
Bishop of Durham (i 588, &c.).
[95] The subjects of the Asiarchate, of the identity of Asiarch and
high-priest, have suggested to the Bishop of Durham another of those
exhaustive discussions which will win for him the gratitude of the
students (see ii. 987, &c.)
[96] The name given by the heathen to the Christians, whom they counted
godless because they had neither image nor visible representation of the
Deity. See ii. 160, note to line 1.
[97] See i. 599 nn. 1, 6.
[98] On the celebrated reading, 'there came forth a dove and a quantity
of blood, see ii. 974, note to i. 3. It is to be explained by the
belief, that the soul departed from the body at death in the form of a
bird; the dove most readily suggesting itself as the emblem of a
Christian soul.
Art. VIII.--1. _An Address delivered to the Students of Edinburgh
University on Nov. 3, 1885._ By the Earl of Iddesleigh, Lord Rector of
the University of Edinburgh.
2. _Hearing, Reading and Thinking: an address to the Students attending
the Lectures of the London Society for the Extension of University
Teaching._ By the Rt. Hon. G.J. Goschen, M.P.
3. _The Choice of Books and other Literary Pieces._ By Frederic
Harrison. London, 1886.
The subject of Books and Reading is _in the air_ at the present time;
Lord Iddlesleigh raised the question last November, by his admirable
discourse on Desultory Reading, delivered at Edinburgh. Sir John Lubbock
was not slow to follow the lead, in his lecture at the Working Men's
College; and lastly, we have Mr. Goschen's more abstract and despondent
remarks on Hearing, Reading, and Thinking. The discussion has been
carried forward from Newspaper to Journal, and from Journal to Magazine,
and has attracted representatives of the most heterogeneous elements
into the ever widening circle. Sir John Lubbock wound up by enumerating
a _hundred_ of the books--
'most frequently mentioned with approval by those who have
referred directly or indirectly to the pleasure of reading,
and I have ventured to include some, which though less
frequently mentioned, are especial favourites of my own. I
have abstained for obvious reasons from mentioning works by
living authors.' ('Self Help,' however, is admitted into Sir
John's revised list), 'though from many of them, Tennyson,
Ruskin, and others, I have myself derived the keenest
enjoyment; and have omitted works of Science, with one or
two exceptions, because the subject is so progressive. I
feel that the attempt is over bold, and must beg for
indulgence; but indeed one object I have had in view is to
stimulate others, more competent far than I am, to give us
the advantage of their opinions. If we had such lists drawn
up by a few good guides, they would be most useful.'
The challenge thus thrown down was quickly taken up by the Editor of the
'Pall Mall Gazette,' who forthwith sent out a Circular to certain
eminent men of the day, inviting them 'to jot down such a list--not
necessarily containing a hundred volumes--as would help the present
generation to choose their reading more wisely.' Whether the majority of
the 'guides' thus appealed to have responded to the call, we are not
informed; the replies of several have been published; and our thanks are
due to those who have been instrumental in opening up a discussion of
great variety and universal interest; though we must confess to some
regret that the initiative was not given in a different form. Why the
number should be fixed at one hundred; why works of Science should be
excluded; why Biography and Travels should enjoy so meagre a
representation on Sir John Lubbock's list, are questions to which no
satisfactory answer has been given.
Who is it, we would ask in the first place, for whom this list is
primarily intended? Not the man whose love of books is firmly
established, for he will have chosen for himself his own walk among the
innumerable highways and byepaths of literature; nor he whose tastes are
just forming, for the field is too wide, and he would hardly prefer the
Analects of Confucius, the Shahnameh, and the Sheking, to 'Marco's
Polo's Travels,' Lockhart's 'Life of Scott,' and 'AEsop's Fables.' No
list, however, that could be drawn up would escape criticism, and our
desire is not so much to suggest in what manner the present list might
be amended, as to indicate how, in our opinion, it might have been made
to serve some practical purpose.
'Books have brought some men to knowledge and some to madness. As
fulness sometimes hurteth the stomach more than hunger, so fareth it
with arts; and as of meats, so likewise of books, the use ought to be
limited according to the quality of him that useth them.' Thus wrote
Petrarch, and the comparison between the bodily and mental digestion, if
trite, is very far from being a mere superficial analogy.
Those who are blessed with a judicial friend, quite competent to make a
diagnosis of their literary capacity and prescribe a diet, are indeed
fortunate--'sua si bona norint.' Such prescriptions have been long since
made, and handed down to us. That written out by Doctor Johnson, for his
friend the Rev. Mr. Astle of Ashbourne, is brief enough, and savours of
the drastic remedies fashionable in the last century.[99] If on glancing
over the Doctor's list our readers are inclined to assume that the Rev.
Mr. Astle was possessed of a very healthy digestion, we would remind
them that solid joints and heavy folios were more in vogue at that time
than in these days of French cookery and periodical literature.
In later times Comte also, among others, has furnished a catalogue, or
syllabus of books for general reading; but even his faithful follower
Mr. Harrison admits, half apologetically, that it 'has no special
relation to current views of education, to English literature, much less
to the literature of the day. It was drawn up thirty years ago by a
French philosopher, who passed his life in Paris, and who had read no
new book for twenty years.'
'What shall I read?' There are few questions more frequently asked than
this; few, perhaps, to which a thoughtless answer is more frequently
given. Coming from one of that large class to which Lord Iddesleigh has
given the name of 'indolent readers,' it might be assumed to be lightly
asked, and might be as lightly answered by the recommendation of some
three-volume novel, or the more fashionable shilling's-worth of gruesome
mystery; but if the enquirer be a young book-lover, a worthy answer is
far to seek. The diagnosis and opinion of the physician do not present
greater difficulties, and in many cases are not attended by more
momentous results. To turn a juvenile adrift in Sir John Lubbock's list
would be to prescribe an exclusive diet of richly seasoned dishes and
rare wines to a convalescent patient--to feed him on strong meats, on
cavaire and truffles, and to omit the simple, wholesome, homely fare on
which, in his condition, health and efficient progress must in the main
depend.
How often has the young enquirer been imbued with a distaste for solid
literature by being compelled to read 'masterpieces' long before he was
able to appreciate their value, or even to comprehend their history! The
system at many of our schools is much to blame in this respect. There
are, we believe, comparatively few boys who acquire, until they seek it
for themselves, even the roughest general outline of the world's
history, to which their various episodic studies may be applied, so that
each may fall into its proper place and order. 'Periods' and 'Epochs'
are studied minutely and painfully, without any knowledge of the grand
structure of which they form but a single fragment; and history is too
often divorced from geography. A schoolboy is set to work on a play of
Aristophanes before he has made acquaintance with the social and
political movements of which Pericles and Cleon were the
representatives. He reads his Bible and his Homer, his Virgil and
Horace, his Caesar and Livy, but probably with the vaguest ideas of their
relations to one another, or their respective positions in the world's
chronology. Or it may be that the whole of one term is devoted to one or
two books of 'the Iliad' and 'the Odyssey,' 'the AEneid' or the 'Odes,'
which are ground out line by line and word by word, all the interest and
flavour of the complete work being inevitably and hopelessly dissipated
in the process. Even 'the college prizeman, and the college tutor cannot
read a chorus in the Trilogy but what his mind instinctively wanders on
optatives, choriambi, and that happy conjecture of Smelfungus in the
antistrophe.'[100] But certain books having to be got up for an
examination by the cramming process, the receptacle for all this
erudition only looks forward to the time when he may throw his Classics
behind the fire for ever. No book with the least pretention to permanent
value can be read purely by and for itself; inevitably it must draw on
the reader--if he be in any sense worthy of the name--from point to
point beyond its own immediate sphere, until he finds his interest
expanding and his tastes forming under a natural and rapid process of
evolution. Can any intelligent person read his Homer or his 'AEneid,' his
Boswell, his 'Old Mortality,' or 'The Voyage of the Beagle' without
asking himself who are these strange characters, and where are these
strange lands that seem so familiar to us?
He who stands on a hill and surveys a wide landscape, easily recognizes
the leading features of the country--the river and the homestead, the
church and the corn-field--they need no guide, they tell their own tale.
In like manner the great landmarks of the literature of the past are
well defined and unmistakable to him who has eyes to see and a mind to
comprehend. The traveller may choose his line, and as he goes his way he
will not fail to find guides who will give him the directions which
passing doubts and difficulties may render necessary. The world's great
books stand out as the old stone walls of some great feudal
fortress--prominent and indestructible. Their original uses have been
superseded by the world's advance; but time and change add greatly to
their interest. He, however, who finds himself entangled in the dense
jungle of books that are not 'masterpieces,' and are so plentiful in
modern literature, is in a sorry plight; his way lies through this
jungle, be it long or short, and he cannot escape it altogether. He has
heard of the quiet groves of the Academy, and of the heights of
Parnassus, but he is rarely able to catch a glimpse of them. He is
whirled along and loses his foothold in the eddying torrent of
periodical literature; or he is entangled in the briars of controversy,
and, torn and vexed, is apt to lose his way. Here then it is that he
particularly needs a guide, and here it is that Sir John Lubbock bids
good-bye to him, and leaves him to his own resources.
The student, thus perplexed, may be surprised to learn from Mr. Ruskin
that 'any bank clerk could write a history as good as Grote's,' and that
Gibbon only chronicled 'putrescence and corruption; 'he may be deeply
interested in the information that Professor Bryce prefers Pindar to
Hesiod, that the Lord Chief Justice knows nothing of Chinese or
Sanskrit, and that Miss Braddon has spent 'great part of a busy life
reading the "Quarterly and Edinburgh Reviews."' But all this does not
help him in his bewildering journey among the 10,000 books which are
annually flooding the world of English speaking readers--a mass of which
we fear that the quality advances in inverse ratio to the quantity.
Sir John Lubbock's list, as it stands, suggests a gathering of
illustrious Generals and officers, without any men. They are very
distinguished and admirable in appearance and qualifications, but would
be doubly so if seen at the head of the army which they lead and
represent. Had Sir John commenced by marshalling his hundred books in
groups, either of subjects to be studied or of readers to be provided
for, and then called upon the 'guides' to fill up the gaps, and supply
the rank and file of his army, he would have earned the thanks of all
book-lovers.
In the selection of books two considerations must alternately be
paramount. One of these would have reference to the subjects to be
studied, the other would have reference to the readers to be provided
for. We are aware of the long controversies and technical difficulties
involved in this question of Classification, which has stirred the
hearts of Librarians from time immemorial, but for our present purpose
the elaboration of an exhaustive scientific system is unnecessary; a
statement of the rough headings and divisions, under which the books for
general readers should be grouped, presents no insurmountable obstacles.
Various minor considerations may subsequently assert themselves; as, for
example, whether the books are required with the ultimate object of the
formation of a library, and 'the cultivation of literature is an object
which cannot be accomplished without the acquisition of a library of a
greater or less extent,' or for the mere purpose of amusement. To draw
up such a catalogue as we propose would exceed the capacity of any
single individual; each section should be the work of one or more
persons specially versed in the subject.
We are, of course, dealing rather with those who are aspiring to be book
lovers than with those who, having already attained to that distinction,
can trust to the guidance of their own inclinations. These aspirants
must seek first an able and judicious guide for each department of
study. One guide may be fully competent to make a list of works in
history or biography, but may lack experience in philosophy or in art;
while, on the other hand, the regimen prescribed for the country curate
would hardly be appropriate for the mechanic or the soldier.
But, first, we must endeavour to define, by a rough process of
elimination, the book lover, whether mature or in embryo. He is not the
mere 'glutton of the lending library,' who bolts the contents of the
monthly box without discrimination and without reflection, his main
object being to while away an idle day or to gain a superficial
reputation at the next dinner party at which he may be present; nor is
he the collector of gaudy bindings; nor one who has never possessed nor
desired to possess a library of his own, who has never read a book more
than once, and has never committed to memory a single passage. He is not
the man, in short, who fails to realize that 'the utility of reading
depends not on the swallow but on the digestion.'
From the American Westerner who buys an Encyclopaedia in parts, and finds
in it all that he requires of instruction and amusement, to the princely
founders of libraries--the Spencers and Parkers, the De Thous, the
Sunderlands, and the Beckfords--is a wide interval, and includes all
sorts and conditions of men, diverse from one another in everything but
their love of books.
Sir John Lubbock, by his eminence in the world of science and the world
of commerce, is admirably qualified to draw up a list of works on
science and trade. But these he has unfortunately excluded from his
consideration. Such lists would be invaluable to the thousands who from
intellectual, or more purely mercenary motives, are now seeking for
light. Had Sir John classified his list on some simple and
discriminating plan, such as we have suggested, we might, as a result of
the discussion, have obtained a summary of works on art by Mr. Ruskin,
or a soldier's library by Lord Wolseley. Others, whose replies have been
published, would have furnished special lists; and a still wider circle
would, no doubt, have seen their way to rendering much help and service.
We should, moreover, have been spared some rather irrelevant and wayward
criticisms to which the discussion has given rise.
Two or three of the 'guides' have, with more or less success, adopted
for themselves a definite system. Mr. William Morris has given us a
list, the perusal of which may perchance arouse serious misgivings in
the heart of the general reader, who cannot 'even _with_ great
difficulty read Old German,' and who has not yet been educated up to the
point of regarding Virgil and Juvenal as 'sham classics.' The
'Admiral's' list is good, if somewhat too technical; and we would plead
for the admission of Southey's 'Life of Nelson,' even, if need be, to
the exclusion of the 'Annual Register' in 110 volumes. The Head Master
of Harrow 'tried to think how he should answer a boy's question if he
were to ask, at any point of his school life, what books it were best
worth while to read before the end (let me say) of his thirtieth year;'
and we venture to regard Mr. Welldon's list as the best of all in point
of conciseness and practical value.
The last to enter the lists, though not under the auspices of the 'Pall
Mall Gazette,' is Mr. Frederic Harrison, who comes armed with a volume
entitled 'The Choice of Books,' though four-fifths of the contents have
strayed far away into such remote pastures as 'The Opening of the Courts
of Justice,' 'A Plea for the Tower of London,' and 'The AEsthete.' With
the small residue of the book, which has remained faithful to the
titlepage, we have little fault to find. Mr. Harrison, as might be
expected, regards everything through the spectacles of Auguste
Comte--'hinc omne principium, huc refer exitum.' Comte's 'Syllabus,' to
which we have already referred, was the basis of at least one of his
essays, and is the subject of his closing remarks.
For our present purpose, the first article, 'How to Read,' is
undoubtedly the most valuable and practicable. It deals in a
straightforward and vigorous manner with many of the snares and
difficulties by which the reader is beset, and sweeps away much of the
sentimental, sickly, criticism which is unfortunately prevalent at the
present time. We think, however, that Mr. Harrison is inclined to raise
the standard of taste too high for the mass of general readers.
'Putting aside the iced air of the difficult mountain tops
of epic, tragedy, or psalm, there are some simple pieces
which may serve as an unerring test of a healthy or vicious
taste for imaginative work. If the "Cid," the "Vita Nuova,"
the "Canterbury Tales," Shakspeare's "Sonnets," and
"Lycidas" pall on a man; if he care not for Malory's "Morte
d'Arthur" and the "Red Cross Knight"; if he thinks "Crusoe"
and the "Vicar" books for the young; if he thrill not with
the "Ode to the West Wind" and the "Ode to a Grecian Urn";
if he have no stomach for "Christabelle," or the lines
written on "The Wye above Tintern," he should fall on his
knees and pray for a cleanlier and quieter spirit.'
Now we believe that there is many a humble aspirant to literary taste on
whom the above paragraph will produce an effect similar to that of 'iced
air and mountain tops' by taking his breath away. Literary palates are
mercifully endowed with tastes and appreciations as varied as mere
bodily palates, and we must protest against any such Procrustean method
of ascertaining whether a man's 'spirit be cleanly and quiet,' or, which
is terrible to contemplate, the reverse. On another page Mr. Harrison
himself loudly deprecates and disclaims any narrow or sectarian view; he
is nothing if not Catholic in his tastes. 'I protest that I am devoted
to no school in particular; I condemn no school; I reject none. I am for
the school of all the great men; and I am against the school of the
smaller men.'
All taste must be founded on knowledge, and between the hard, dry
teaching of the Board School or the Examination Room on the one hand,
and the aetherial atmosphere of Desultory Reading and the purest literary
discernment on the other, there lies an intermediate region, a
'penumbral zone,' which differs from the first in that it is entered
voluntarily, and from the second in that it is attainable by all who
care to enter it. The way through this region, though pleasant is
laborious; system, accuracy, and discipline are essential to him who
would traverse it. To be a desultory reader, in the sense defined by
Lord Iddesleigh, a man must first have been a student; and not to every
student is given the temperament, capacity, and opportunity, to become a
desultory reader--still less can every student aspire to that refined
literary taste, which Mr. Harrison possesses in so large a measure, and
which, in its characteristics, he describes so well.
So far as modern literature is concerned, it may be said, that the
Reviewers are, by their skill and experience, qualified to direct, and
ever ready to aid the wayfarer; and in theory this is true. But, putting
aside the few leading journals and periodicals, daily and weekly--of
which we would only speak with the greatest respect--we fear that the
reviewer's art is at a low ebb in these days. Often the side breezes of
controversy, of private jealousy, or of personal interest, intervene to
divert straightforward criticism; still more often does absolute
incompetence render these guides worthless. A score of books may be
seen, huddled together in an unbroken column of so-called criticism,
with no other bond of union than their publication in course of the same
week. The interested author, wading through this disconnected mass,
suddenly stumbles on a few words extracted--possibly perverted--from his
own preface, to which a line of commonplace commendation is affixed; and
he then suddenly encounters a subject as far removed from his own as the
'Republic' of Plato is distant from 'Called Back.'
Among all these discordant voices, who shall help us to detect the true
ring? Thrice happy are those privileged few who enjoy the loving care
and supervision of some wise mentor to guide their choice and to watch
their progress; but for the multitude, to whom such a privilege is
denied, a good classified list, not excluding recent works, carefully
sifted and added to by the most prominent men of the day, would be of
inestimable value.
In the first place, a connected chain of histories, from the earliest
times to the present day, with a selected list of contemporary memoirs
and biographies, would throw a guiding gleam of light on thousands who
are wandering, dark and aimless, in a labyrinth of 'masterpieces.' In
this enquiry system is essential. Of desultory comments, charming and
instructive in themselves and valuable in the formation of taste, we
have abundant store. Who that has read Emerson's 'Essay on Books,' or
Charles Lamb's 'Detached Thoughts on Books and Reading,' or Isaac
Disraeli's 'Curiosities of Literature' and 'Literary Character,' or
Byron's brilliant and impulsive criticisms on books and authors, can be
without some kindling of enthusiasm and of desire to know more fully the
great works thus passed in critical review? But the essential
characteristics of such commentaries as these are snares to the student.
The temptation to pass from one subject to another is inseparable from
treatment of this kind, and so becomes a hindrance to more earnest
application.
Dibdin's 'Library Companion' in some respects fulfils the requirements
we have mentioned; but apart from the fact, that the information it
contains is now in a great measure obsolete, too much space is devoted
to the description and value of choice and rare editions. It is a
book-buyer's rather than a reader's guide. Perkins's 'The Best Reading'
is too bald a catalogue, and requires a vast amount of sifting, and the
addition of a few words of running comment to render it serviceable. It
lacks, in short, the characteristics of a _catalogue raisonnee_.
The Historical List which we have proposed should be prefaced by a
chronological table, indicating the epochs into which the World's
History divides itself, and the periods covered by each of the works
recommended. This would give the student a bird's-eye view of the field
which he is about to explore, and enable him, at any moment in his
exploration, to take his reckonings and verify his position.
Careful distinction should be made between Chroniclers and Historians,
between those who have provided the materials and those who have
designed and reared the complete structure. Sometimes these chroniclers
have furnished merely rough and unhewn stones, useful in themselves,
but with no pretence to artistic finish or individuality of character;
and these have been absorbed into the building. Other chronicles, again,
are perfected in form, and are not merely integral, essential portions
of the complicated structure, but become a source of endless pleasure
from the merit of their workmanship. Thucydides and Clarendon are
universally read, while Hecataeus has all but vanished; and Thomas May's
'History of the Long Parliament,' though pronounced by Lord Chatham to
be a 'much honester and more instructive book of the same period than
Lord Clarendon's,' is relegated to the shelves of the specialist or the
bookworm.
Histories are scarcely less ephemeral than books of science; and the
object of the list we are advocating is not to provide an exhaustive
catalogue, a task which in these days would overtax the capacity of
half-a-dozen Dr. Johnsons, but to select those works which will give the
best continuous narrative of the period under discussion, and represent
the most recent scholarship; omitting those which have been absorbed or
superseded.
Mitford and Gillies have given place to Thirwall and Grote; and even the
star of Hallam, outshining De Lolme, is beginning to wane before the
searching light which, by the publication of State Papers and other
archives, is being brought to bear on the History of England and of
Modern Europe. But such materials, though ruthlessly relegating much of
what we have hitherto regarded as the 'Pearls of History' to the
category of 'Mock Pearls,' cannot immediately be made available for the
ordinary student, or become absorbed into the popular histories of the
day. We can ill spare from our list the names of those writers, who,
from Livy to Lord Macaulay, have added a fascination to the study of
history; though in their works most beautiful Mock Pearls abound. But
the student should be warned against implicit reliance on their records.
To Clarendon has been ascribed the honor of being the first Englishman
who wrote History, as we regard it; his predecessors having been in the
main mere chroniclers or annalists. Clarendon elaborated the picture of
which these annalists had merely supplied the materials; and the
eighteenth century saw the development of this new method in the
brilliant triad of contemporaries, Hume, Robertson, and Gibbon. Our own
age has witnessed a further advance in the school of philosophical
historians, who, without aiming at any connected narrative of events,
present to us the profound lessons which history teaches; pointing out
the far-reaching causes which have influenced and are influencing
events occurring in widely distant countries; causes and events which to
the superficial observer seem totally disconnected. This philosophical
category would form one of the most interesting, and in these days, when
political empiricism shows a growing tendency to supplant statesmanlike
research, not the least important portion of our historical list. If to
this main stem of History there be added the due complement of branches
and leaves--memoirs and biographies--the Plutarchs and Pepyses, the
Walpoles and St. Simons, the Crokers and Grevilles of each
generation--we shall have a tree of knowledge which would yield to none
in point of interest and utility.
We have dwelt at some length on this part of the subject, first, because
of its almost unlimited extent; and secondly, because, owing to this
extent, there is such difficulty in making a genuine and trustworthy
selection. There is, besides, an apparently constant antagonism in
history between the qualities of strict accuracy and literary
brilliancy. The two are not incompatible, but the striving after
literary merit is as great a snare to the writer as its attainment by
the writer is, in too many cases, to the student.
Of voyages and travels, 'I would also have good store, especially the
earlier, when the world was fresh and unhackneyed, and men saw things
invisible to the modern eye: They are fast-sailing ships to waft away
from present troubles to the Fortunate Islands.'[101] Grouped under each
quarter of the globe, we should have selections of the works of those
travellers, who, from Herodotus to Mr. Stanley, and from Marco Polo or
Captain Cook down to Miss Bird, have made us who stay at home familiar
with the remotest corners of the earth. Much of the romance of travel
has of necessity perished in these matter-of-fact days; but as the
writing of history has developed from a mere chronicle of events into a
scientific and philosophical method, so the art of travelling is now
assuming a political form under pressure of the gigantic problems which
are exercising the mind of the civilized world; and a section of
political travels, of which Mr. Froude and Baron von Huebner have
recently given us examples, should not be omitted.
Without pretending to enumerate all the departments which our catalogue
should comprise--and most of them are too obvious to require
enumeration--we would suggest a good selection of the best translations
and editions of the Greek and Roman Classics. In mentioning translations
we, of course, disclaim any recommendation of the common 'crib,' but
refer to those scholarly works which have brought the classical
masterpieces to the very doors of the general public; such, for example,
as Rawlinson's 'Herodotus,' or Prof. Jowett's 'Plato and Thucydides;' as
Lord Derby's 'Iliad,' Gifford's 'Juvenal,' or Conington's 'Virgil:' nor
is the crib more widely removed from such works as these, than, in the
matter of editions, is Anthon's 'Virgil,' for example, from Munro's
'Lucretius.' In the opinion of Mr. Harrison, this 'is the age of
accurate translation. The present generation has produced a complete
library of versions of the great Classics, chiefly in prose, partly in
verse, more faithful, true, and scholarly than anything ever produced
before.' Mr. Harrison's own essay on the 'Poets of the Old World,' goes
far to supply one at least of the branches of this section. Last, but by
no means least, do we plead for a guide to 'Children's Books.' We run
some risk in these days of competitive examinations and 'higher
education,' of placing instruction too prominently in the front, to the
exclusion of pure amusement; forgetting that it is through the
imagination that the interest of a child is most readily aroused, and
that, unless the interest be aroused, our educational labours will be
worthless. A child can live in an atmosphere of genial fiction, and
appreciate it, without the danger which lurks in a misrepresentation of
what passes around him in his daily experience. It is exaggeration, not
fiction, that is liable to injure the mind of a child.
On the vital question, 'how to read,' the student has received matter
for careful and deliberate consideration, alike from Lord Iddesleigh and
Mr. Goschen, from Mr. Harrison and Mr. Lowell. The burden of their
advice is the same, though the forms differ; they all unite in
deprecating and deploring the hurry, the want of application, the want
of restraint which prevail in the present day. The hurrying reader, on
the one hand, and the indolent reader, on the other, are the types to be
avoided with the most scrupulous care. We suffer from an excess of
opportunities, and require to be constantly reminded that 'it is
impossible to give any method to our reading till we get nerve enough to
reject.'
If we look through the long list of English literary celebrities, we
cannot but be struck with the large proportion of those who have
received little or no regular education in their early days, and whose
opportunities of study have been of the scantiest. Ben Jonson working as
a bricklayer with his book in his pocket: Wm. Cobbett reading his
hard-earned 'Tale of a Tub' under the haystack, or mastering his grammar
when he was a private soldier on the pay of 6d. a day; when 'the edge of
my berth or that of my guard-bed was my seat to study in; my knapsack
was my bookcase; a bit of board lying on my lap was my writing table,
and the task did not demand anything like a year of my life:' Gifford,
as a cobbler's apprentice, working out his problems on scraps of waste
leather; or Bunyan, confined for twelve years in Bedford jail with only
his Bible and 'Foxe's Book of Martyrs,' are but a few among scores of
instances which will immediately suggest themselves.
There are many persons who are possessed with a strange and
unaccountable conviction, that to read a book and to write a book are
processes which require little, if any, previous training or
preparation. The one error is sufficiently obvious to all who pay any
attention to the great mass of cheap literature which is pouring from
our printing-presses; the other is less easy of detection. 'The first
lesson in reading is that which teaches us to distinguish between
literature and merely printed matter,' is the admirable maxim laid down
by Mr. Lowell, and this is one of the essential points in which the
personal influence of an experienced friend is of inestimable value. As
the latent beauties of some great masterpiece of art unfold themselves
to our eye under the guidance of a Kugler or a Ruskin, and we are thus
enabled to detect their presence or their absence in the works of other
hands and other schools, so in the masterpieces of literature the
realization of the points, wherein the chief merits of each lie, places
us in a position to form a standard--to possess a talisman, which shall
enable us unerringly to detect the true from the false. Mrs. Knowles
said of Dr. Johnson, 'He knows how to read better than any one; he gets
at the substance of a book directly; he tears the heart out of it.' This
faculty, which was exhibited in a marvellous degree also in Southey and
Macaulay, is as rare as it is enviable; but there are not a few who
erroneously suppose themselves to be possessed of it. The hurried,
careless, method of reading is one of the chief dangers a student should
guard against. In studying a work of biography, for example--but above
all in studying the classics--the first requisite, and one which is, as
we have said, sadly overlooked in public school teaching, is the
acquisition of a simple, general outline of the period to which the work
relates. In the fashionable phrase of the day, the books so read are
frequently not in correspondence with their environment. To him whose
views of Roman history are but a shapeless mist, if not an absolute
void, Virgil and Horace are sealed books; nor can any one who is
ignorant of Scotland and her traditions penetrate beyond the husk of
'Waverley' or 'Old Mortality.' To the young beginner a few judicious
words of explanation at the commencement of a book may serve to awaken
that interest without which reading is useless, and to make darkness
light; and, similarly, a few words of discussion, when the book is
completed, will have the effect of consolidating the floating ideas to
which the perusal has given rise. The habit of casting aside a book as
soon as the last page is read, without pondering over its contents and
recalling the argument and refreshing the memory where it has failed, or
allowing the 'frenzied current of the eye to be stopped for many moments
of calm reflection or thought,' is apt to render worthless all the
previous effort. Lord Erskine, we are told, was in the habit of making
long extracts from Burke, and Lord Eldon is said to have copied out
'Coke upon Littleton' twice with his own hand. 'Writing an analysis,'
says Archibishop Whately,[102] 'or table of contents, or index, or
notes, is very important for the study, properly so called, of any
subject. And so also is the practice of previously conversing or writing
on the subject you are about to study.' Reading can produce a beneficial
result only in proportion to the extent and accuracy of information
previously stored in the mind of the reader. Such information is like
the roots of some flourishing oak; every fresh fact is, as it were, a
new fibre confirming and strengthening the growth of the tree, and
attracting nourishment from new soil.
'The moment you have a definite aim, attention is quickened, the mother
of memory; and all that you acquire groups and arranges itself in an
order that is lucid, because everywhere and always it is in intelligent
relation to a central object of constant and growing interest.'[103]
Bearing this in mind, we would urge the student to investigate every
unfamiliar allusion which may occur in the course of his reading or
conversation. A fact or subject thus sought out fixes itself more firmly
in the memory than most of those which are merely passed in the ordinary
course of reading.
The use of odd moments should not be overlooked. 'Blockheads,' wrote Sir
Walter Scott, 'can never find out how folks cleverer than themselves
came by their information. They never know what is done at
dressing-time, meal-time even, or in how few minutes they can get at the
sense of many pages.' It is not possible always to have a book at hand,
but any one who will take the trouble to copy out, from time to time,
passages which have attracted his attention, and carry them about with
him to learn by heart at odd moments, may perhaps be astonished to find
how much may be acquired in this manner.
There are some books which by their nature lend themselves to a snatchy
method of perusal, and a few minutes may often be well employed in
reading an ode of Horace, or the disjointed conversations of Dr.
Johnson, but such moments should as a rule be devoted to books which are
already more or less familiar. The habit of frivolously taking up, and
as frivolously casting aside, a book is, however, one which should be
guarded against with the utmost care. It was a strict rule in the family
of Goethe the elder, that any book once commenced should be read through
to the end. Dr. Johnson, on the other hand, considered a rule of this
kind 'strange advice; you may as well resolve that whatever men you
happen to get acquainted with, you are to keep them for life.'
A snare, which did not exist in the time of Goethe or of Dr. Johnson,
presents itself in these days to the reader, in the ever-increasing mass
of periodical literature. But the busy man, who has not time to turn
aside from his own work to the thorough investigation of the topic of
the hour, may sometimes, in the pages of a magazine, find the case
stated tersely by distinguished advocates on both sides; and he may thus
at least discern the main positions of assailant and assailed. An
exhaustive and genuine review of a book is occasionally afforded by
periodical literature, more rarely perhaps than is generally believed;
but such essays to have any value, should be read only after the work to
which they relate, a condition that is, we fear, seldom fulfilled.
The 'desultory reader' has now been defined and elevated. We can hardly
be mistaken in considering that by reason of Lord Iddesleigh's admirable
remarks the expression has acquired a new signification; at least a
large number of those who may have fondly imagined themselves to be
desultory readers have now been effectually eliminated from the
category.
We live in days of 'specialism,' and the book-making specialist of our
generation probably yields to none of his predecessors in the literary
roll in respect of industry, skill, and accuracy; but his subject, as a
rule, is his business, his breadwinner. The desultory reader regards
literature as his pastime and recreation. Happy is he who has the time,
the opportunity, and the education, to become a desultory reader, in
Lord Iddlesleigh's sense of the word.
But admitting that Desultory Dilettanteism may under certain favourable
conditions be both profitable and a fascinating attainment, and claiming
as we do a very high value for good guidance in the choice of books, we
must not lose sight of the fact, that the basis on which the main
practical question of the selection and proper use of books rests, is
not what is good in general, or in special literature, but what is
fitted for each individual man. And to discover this the man himself, or
his immediate ancestor, the youth or boy, must be examined. The
foundation of success in any sphere of life is physical and mental,
nervous and moral aptitude; and those who have to direct, or to decide
for, or to advise the young respecting their career in life, should make
the personal condition of their proteges their careful study. From the
ascertained condition the capacity of each may be discerned, and his
future capabilities may be, to some extent, foreseen. These capabilities
are the indicators of the course of reading first required; by them the
youth's career should chiefly be selected and decided on. Unfortunately
in most cases careful forethought is neglected. Qualities that actually
make the man are, in a decision that affects his hopes and happiness for
life, too often overlooked; and some mere transient incident, esteemed
perhaps a stroke of fortune, is accepted, without any hesitating thought
about the suitability of its results, as a sufficient introduction to
the business of the world. The consequence of this neglect is obvious
enough. In every social and commercial sphere we find men drudging on in
hopeless slavery, or ruined by the natural revolt of sensibilities that
could not be controlled, against the influence of circumstances wholly
inappropriate, and for which these sensibilities, most useful in their
proper sphere, were not of course designed.
A young man's very desultory reading will perhaps be one of the most
useful means for finding what his life's career should be. Knowing
himself, or being known, as has been said, by those directing him, and
by his own discursive reading having learnt what work for his peculiar
abilities is open for him in the world, he probably will judge quite
readily what line of study he should at first pursue, and following out
this clue, at first by the aid of judicious external guidance, he will,
with ever-increasing self-reliance and discrimination, proceed to fulfil
the requirements of education and the inclination of his own mental
disposition. This method of development is the natural order by which
intellectual growth, by means of books, or any other means, proceeds. To
make a choice of certain hundred books for any man's perusal, in his
youth or afterwards, is but a feat of cleverness, arousing curiosity or
wonder, but evolving nothing--ending in the choice. A man may be
possessed of any number of good books; and possibly a thousand books
might be selected, all of which would be by general consent called
excellent, and worth possessing; and perhaps he would be none the
better for them all. Young men do not require a hundred books at once.
Indeed the fewer well-selected books a youth has to begin with, the more
safe he is against excessive loss of time. His most important question
is not, what shall I read? but, what need I read? The student's care
should be to read as little, and to think as much as possible. Thus, he
will find what thing it is that he at any time immediately requires to
know, and he will make this pressing need the object of his next
acquirement in books. This method tends to education; it develops mental
power, and makes a cultivated man. A hundred books procured and read
without appropriate sympathy, and interest, and thought, will merely
make an animated bookcase of the man.
Not only should the student's books be few, but as he reads he should be
constantly upon his guard. Most readers read to be informed or to be
entertained; and books of information are absorbed as if all printed
statements must of course be true, or even if not true must, as a
record, be worth knowing. This omnivorous, careless style of reading is
a grievous waste of life and energy. Were books read with critical,
enquiring thought, the time misspent in reading would be wholesomely
reduced, and readers would increase in mental power in due proportion to
their increased information.
In books of entertainment, and especially of fiction, corresponding
carefulness is necessary. There are books among the best which are, in
various degrees and ways, of evil influence, and should be read with
caution and reserve. To yield one's self to the enjoyment of an
entertaining book may be as foolish as to give one's self into the hands
of an untried agreeable companion. Ability to please is to these
incautious subjects of it a most dangerous influence; and books as well
as men when most attractive should be treated warily. In Rabelais and
Swift, in Fielding and Smollett, coarse manners must be reprobated. In
George Eliot's novels, with exceptions, and in 'Jane Eyre,' there is a
subtle taint that is unwholesome to the unguarded reader. Thackeray too
frequently compels us to associate with evil company; and, while
admiring the writer's skill, the reader should keep well outside of
almost every group in Thackeray's novels.
Distinct alike from the progressive student and the discriminating
reader, is an abundant class who, without individuality, and mere
omnivorous devotees of books, chiefly reading the lighter literature of
the day. These people, through excess and self-indulgence, become
feeble-minded, intellectually dissipated, and incapable of serious
study. In every rank of life the book-devouring vice abounds; but
chiefly among women, girls, and boys; men finding in the newspapers
their daily pabulum. This thoughtless, fragmentary, reading has
debilitated the contemporary mental fibre of the nation; and has so
absorbed the time, we cannot say the attention, of the immense majority
of the reading public, that many of them are ignorant even of the
existence of the standard works of literature. The late discussion,
therefore, about books has been of use; it has made known to the great
community of people, who now can read, the fact, that there are certain
books, a hundred more or less, far more worth reading than the popular
and periodical literature of the day. If this discovery could be
impressed upon the public mind with practical effect, the result would
be a beneficial change in their condition. The abundant tattle and
affected interest about names and things of mean and transient
notoriety, and the discursive dinner-table gossip of the world would
then perhaps subside; and English conversation would become a constant
and a beneficial intellectual enjoyment.