“a spirit and judgment equal or superior.”—milton.
a distinctly formed power of judging of literary productions, and of rightly and fully estimating their intrinsic and their comparative merits, is a thing of rare occurrence. even educated men, whose opinions with respect to other things are of high value, seem not generally to have carried their systematic habits of thought into this province, deferring it almost wholly to professed critics. on the other hand, there is a crowd of slender judges, of some qualities of books, who are yet utterly incapable of appreciating others which are more vital.
it becomes, therefore, an important question to one who would be an independent thinker, how the evil may be remedied in his own case. it may be answered in general, not chiefly by reading literary reviews. much, doubtless, may be learned in this way about many books and their authors; so much indeed, so wide is the field opened, as to divert the mind from seeking an intimate acquaintance with any. without question, the effect of this kind of reading often, and indeed usually is, to overload the mind with a multitude of opinions which speedily pass from it, leaving it advanced in no respect except in an opinion of its own knowledge. even where something more than mere entertainment is sought, the result is much the same. we would ask those who are so busy in collecting the opinions of others, how often an attempt is made effectually to reproduce those opinions in their own minds, and to test them by a careful study of the author in hand. the comparatively light manner of hurrying over even the extracts, which critical kindness has pointed out, is a sufficient answer. the very object indeed of resorting to reviews is to avoid tasking the mind. it is indeed vastly easier to take from the review opinions ready made, than to struggle to bring up into the light one’s own dim conceptions of excellence or defect, and to summon the mind to make account to itself. but as the result we have an unformed and lifeless acquaintance, with works even of the highest order—an acquaintance consisting, for the most part, of half-remembered, and half-forgotten crude opinions about them. for the mind itself there is a habit of dependence on something without, and not of itself, for the grounds of its opinions—a habit arising, almost necessarily, from being accustomed to submit to the absoluteness and dictatorship of the professed critic.
there is liable to be created also, a habit of dependence for the interest which is felt in literary works generally, novels excepted. it31 cannot be denied that the critic himself and his opinions, often form the main point of interest, and that the author is comparatively uninteresting; when it is not so, the critic is often depended upon to excite for the author an interest, which is to cease with the remembrance of the former. the sympathies are with the critic, not with the author. besides this, reviews treat mostly of what is passing; the attention of the review reader is, therefore, in a great degree confined to that. hence we have, in many of those who are thought to be acquainted with literature, a love for excitement, dependent on what is conventional and present, rather than a permanent interest resulting from broad and well grounded views.
it is certain that he who aims not merely to understand, but vigorously to apprehend, and distinctly to appreciate the work before him, will wish, in matters of opinion, to banish all thoughts of the critic, as an unwelcome intruder, however excellent in his kind, between himself and the author.
in order that a man may thus become a critic for himself, he should seek to excite in himself a love of literature for its own sake, in opposition both to a mere love of entertainment and to mere indifference. for here, it is eminently true that unless a man loves he cannot understand. but then that love must be liberal and discriminating; it must be a love which will carry one through the difficulties of the way. but for these qualities a mere love of entertainment is least remarkable, devouring indiscriminately what is often least valuable, and blindly rejecting the rest.
it deserves to be considered, whether this has not been too much the spirit of the readers of poetry. the maxim, that “it is the office of the poet to please, not to instruct,” ought not to be taken thus absolutely. it is indeed “sweetly uttered knowledge,” which the poet imparts, but is it the less knowledge? it is not indeed knowledge systematized, but not the less real knowledge of the human heart in all its relations.
but the great obstacle to be removed, is an indifference which leads to desultory reading. we refer especially to an indifference to merits. fault-finding we have enough; while of merits there is often a comparatively languid appreciation. a very low mind and small abilities may be equal to the former; the latter demands a mind liberal and vigorous.
in order to remove this indifference, there must be a love of literature for its own sake. this will animate the mind with a liberal zeal, and, at the same time, will supersede the love of mere entertainment.
let him who would feel such a love, endeavor to obtain some notion of literature as it is. in order to this let him acquaint himself with its history. let him view it as the offspring of the human mind in all ages, wrought up to its divinest energy; as that which embodies in itself thoughts of power and images of beauty; as a32 purifier and refiner of the human feelings. let him consider it also, with direct reference to his own mind and heart. for this end, he should place himself on the broad ground of our common humanity, in distinction from any prejudice, or conventional mode of thinking. viewing himself as a man, and as such recognizing the mind and the human feelings within his own breast, let him look upon literature, as the glorious expression of what is kindred to those, and as such demanding his sympathy. by this habit of constant reference to his own mind, he will acquire in literature, a permanent interest. distinctly conscious of the mind within his own breast, he will welcome mind wherever he meets it: recognizing the feelings of his own heart, he will go forth in sympathy with those of another; feeling within himself a love of the beautiful, he will stand ready to admire and value its objects. unless a man cultivates such habits, so that he shall have a warm and living interest in ascertaining literary worth, he cannot be a critic. he will not seek out merits which he has not some interest in finding. if, on the other hand, a man have this habit of immediate reference to his own mind, he will not only have such an interest, but will also have placed himself in the only right point of view to judge of any literary production. he will not be guided by a set of rules which are in a manner foreign to the mind; nor will his criticism be expressed in phrases which are unmeaning, or the meaning of which he has never asked himself. it will be the faithful exhibition of the warm impressions upon a mind rightly prepared to receive them. how the mind is to be thus prepared is another question. the attitude which it should take we have stated; but to assume this it is not qualified at once, and with regard to every work. obviously it must be enlightened by knowledge of the various departments of literature, that it may judge accurately of any one. yet this is not all that is demanded of it. in order to judge of the intrinsic merits of any literary production, there must be an exercise of powers like those which originated it. the mind must be trained distinctly, and by itself, for this end. otherwise, it cannot form any conception of those powers, much less can it know how to value their productions. in proportion also as the latter are of a high order, must be the activity to which feebler powers must be aroused to apprehend them. while this is true with respect to every kind of writing, its necessity is more distinctly seen in reading the works of the poet. for the powers there demanded are less in daily use. the reader must, in a certain sense, be himself a poet, in order to be a critic of poetry. otherwise, he cannot sympathize with the author, and cannot judge of him at all. for, we repeat it, it is by a direct reference to our own minds, as appealed to by the mind of another, that we must judge of literary worth.
thus to qualify and attune the mind, is indeed a task. the necessity, however, is plain. we may now, also understand how it is33 that a man may with ease equal the critic whom he reads, and then flatter himself into the belief that he has compassed the author whom he has not the vigor and habits of mind necessary to appreciate. for want of them, the opinions of the critic will be either forgotten, or vaguely remembered or applied. in either case the mind will have gained a feeling of undue self-importance.
it may seem audacious to approach in the manner we have attempted to describe, the works of those to whom we have been wont to look up with implicit reverence. but no one, we think, will be more humble in his own eyes, than he who has tried and found how hard it is to attempt fully to comprehend when fairly set before him, that which another wrought out from unshaped materials. nor will his admiration be the less, because he sees that it is well grounded; while by a habit of raising himself to cope with great minds, he will be enabled to see in their true light, and to approach with an air of just superiority those which are inferior.
we have thus attempted to show some of the preparations of mind and spirit, for the office of criticism. but there must also be a strict and severe judgment, to exercise over the mind a constant supervision, and to keep it from partaking of the unsoundness of those with which it comes in contact, as well as a sensibility to their merits.
it has not been our object to dwell upon the particular points of criticism. there is one which will be found to include almost all others, and which has been already implied. we have spoken of literature as the means of correspondence between mind and mind. of course, by far the most important point of criticism will be to study the mind and spirit of the author in his works. much may be learned, in this way, that shall fix a lasting communion between ourselves and the author who is worthy of such intimacy. and further, by laying bare the shaping and moving spirit of that which is presented to us, and by ascertaining the precise attitude of the author with respect to his work, we shall be enabled to see more distinctly what are merits and defects, because we shall know whither to refer them. by this means, even the minutest peculiarities may be marked; that which is artificial, may be distinguished from that which is genuine; style may be clearly characterized, and the whole work will be set before us in two-fold clearness, and with two-fold interest.
if literature is worth any thing, it is worth such study and such exertions, on the part of every one. he who studies it in this way, will not view the books which meet his eye with a languid and feeble interest; nor as so many subjects for examination, which are afterwards to be set aside, as a sort of explained phenomena. he will study their merits in order to welcome and appropriate them to himself, as the fruits of kindred minds. the wise and the good of all ages will thus become his friends and companions.
