I
I do not think, Gentlemen, that we need to bother ourselves today
with any definition of a 'classic,' or of the _stigmata_ by which
a true classic can be recognised. Sainte-Beuve once indicated
these in a famous discourse, "Qu'est-ce qu'un classique": and it
may suffice us that these include Universality and Permanence.
Your true classic is _universal,_ in that it appeals to the
catholic mind of man. It is doubly _permanent_: for it remains
significant, or acquires a new significance, after the age for
which it was written and the conditions under which it was
written, have passed away; and it yet keeps, undefaced by
handling, the original noble imprint of the mind that first
minted it--or shall we say that, as generation after generation
rings the coin, it ever returns the echo of its father-spirit?
But for our purpose it suffices that in our literature we possess
a number of works to which the title of classic cannot be
refused. So let us confine ourselves to these, and to the
question, How to use them?