,transcriber's note3 ,the following typographical errors have been corrected3 ,page #hf3 ,we bring ourselves1 by its help1 to face petty details that are wearisome1 and heavy tasks that are almost appalling4 'appalling' amended from 'appaling'4 ,page #aec3 ,that which is truly1 and deeply1 and seriously an injury to our intellectual life1 is the foolishness of the too common vanity4 'too' amended from 'two'4 ,page #afa3 the child had the defects of children1 but of children born in the different countries where he lived4 'lived' amended from 'live'4 ,page #bid3 ,the girl was uneducated3 it seems hopeless to try to educate the woman4 'educate' amended from 'educated'4 ,page #cfd3 ,i am sure that my modern artillery captain1 notwithstanding his bad manners4 'notwithstanding' amended from 'notwithstand'4 ,page #cgg3 ,i know a distinguished ,englishman who is quite remarkable for the talent with which he arranges his intellectual friendships1 so as never to be dependent on any one4 'intellectual' amended from 'inintellectual'4 ,page #chc3 ,the truth is1 that to succeed well in fashionable society the higher intellectual attainments are not so useful as distinguished skill in those amusements which are the real business of the fashionable world4 'business of' amended from 'busiof'4 ,page #chg3 ,to me it appears the perfect type of that preoccupation about appearances which blinds the genteel vulgar to the true nobility of life4 'preoccupation' amended from 'pre-occupation'4 ,page #dag3 ,she moves2 movement is the law of her life2 yet she is as tranquil in her little cabin as any goodwife on shore4 'she' amended from 'see'4 ,page #dhi3 ,i certainly think that if a good cur has an exceptional genius for sanctity4 'sanctity' amended from 'sancitity'4 ,page #eeh 7index73 ,dullness of general conversation4 ',dullness' amended from ',dulness'4 ,,the ,,intellectual ,,life1 ,,by ,,philip ,,gilbert ,,hamerton1 ,,author ,,of ,a ,,painter',s ,,camp1 ,,thoughts ,,about ,,art1 ,,the ,,unknown ,,river1 ,,etc4 ,,new ,,york ,,hurst ,,company ,,publishers ,,to ,,eug,,nie ,h4 ,we have shared together many hours of study1 and you have been willing1 at the cost of much patient labor1 to cheer the difficult paths of intellectual toil by the unfailing sweetness of your beloved companionship4 ,it seems to me that all those things which we have learned together are doubly my own2 whilst those other studies which ,i have pursued in solitude have never yielded me more than a maimed and imperfect satisfaction4 ,the dream of my life would be to associate you with all ,i do if that were possible2 but since the ideal can never be wholly realized1 let me at least rejoice that we have been so little separated1 and that the subtle influence of your finer taste and more delicate perception is ever1 like some penetrating perfume1 in the whole atmosphere around me4 ,,preface4 ,i propose1 in the following pages1 to consider the possibilities of a satisfactory intellectual life under various conditions of ordinary human existence4 ,it will form a part of my plan to take into account favorable and unfavorable influences of many kinds2 and my chief purpose1 so far as any effect upon others may be hoped for1 will be to guard some who may read the book alike against the loss of time caused by unnecessary discouragement1 and the waste of effort which is the consequence of misdirected energies4 ,i have adopted the form of letters addressed to persons of very different position in order that every reader may have a chance of finding what concerns him4 ,the letters1 it is unnecessary to observe1 are in one sense as fictitious as those we find in novels1 for they have never been sent to anybody by the post1 yet the persons to whom they are addressed are not imaginary4 ,i made it a rule1 from the beginning1 to think of a real person when writing1 from an apprehension that by dwelling in a world too exclusively ideal ,i might lose sight of many impediments which beset all actual lives1 even the most exceptional and fortunate4 ,the essence of the book may be expressed in a few sentences1 the rest being little more than evidence or illustration4 ,first1 it appears that all who are born with considerable intellectual faculties are urged towards the intellectual life by irresistible instincts1 as water-fowl are urged to an aquatic life2 but the lower animals have this advantage over man1 that as their purposes are simpler1 so they attain them more completely than he does4 ,the life of a wild duck is in perfect accordance with its instincts1 but the life of an intellectual man is never on all points perfectly in accordance with his instincts4 ,many of the best intellectual lives known to us have been hampered by vexatious impediments of the most various and complicated kinds2 and when we come to have accurate and intimate knowledge of the lives led by our intellectual contemporaries1 we are always quite sure to find that each of them has some great thwarting difficulty to contend against4 ,nor is it too much to say that if a man were so placed and endowed in every way that all his work should be made as easy as the ignorant imagine it to be1 that man would find in that very facility itself a condition most unfavorable to his intellectual growth4 ,so that1 however circumstances may help us or hinder us1 the intellectual life is always a contest or a discipline1 and the art or skill of living intellectually does not so much consist in surrounding ourselves with what is reputed to be advantageous as in compelling every circumstance and condition of our lives to yield us some tribute of intellectual benefit and force4 ,the needs of the intellect are as various as intellects themselves are various3 and if a man has got high mental culture during his passage through life it is of little consequence where he acquired it1 or how4 ,the school of the intellectual man is the place where he happens to be1 and his teachers are the people1 books1 animals1 plants1 stones1 and earth round about him4 ,the feeling almost always predominant in the minds of intellectual men as they grow older1 is not so much one of regret that their opportunities were not more abundant1 as of regret that they so often missed opportunities which they might have turned to better account4 ,i have written for all classes1 in the conviction that the intellectual life is really within the reach of every one who earnestly desires it4 ,the highest culture can never be within the reach of those who cannot give the years of labor which it costs2 and if we cultivate ourselves to shine in the eyes of others1 to become famous in literature or science1 then of course we must give many more hours of labor than can be spared from a life of practical industry4 ,but ,i am fully convinced of this1 convinced by the observation of living instances in all classes1 that any man or woman of large natural capacity may reach the tone of thinking which may justly be called intellectual1 even though that thinking may not be expressed in the most perfect language4 ,the essence of intellectual living does not reside in extent of science or in perfection of expression1 but in a constant preference for higher thoughts over lower thoughts1 and this preference may be the habit of a mind which has not any very considerable amount of information4 ,this may be very easily demonstrated by a reference to men who lived intellectually in ages when science had scarcely begun to exist1 and when there was but little literature that could be of use as an aid to culture4 ,the humblest subscriber to a mechanics' institute has easier access to sound learning than had either ,solomon or ,aristotle1 yet both ,solomon and ,aristotle lived the intellectual life4 ,whoever reads ,english is richer in the aids to culture than ,plato was1 yet ,plato thought intellectually4 ,it is not erudition that makes the intellectual man1 but a sort of virtue which delights in vigorous and beautiful thinking1 just as moral virtue delights in vigorous and beautiful conduct4 ,intellectual living is not so much an accomplishment as a state or condition of the mind in which it seeks earnestly for the highest and purest truth4 ,it is the continual exercise of a firmly noble choice between the larger truth and the lesser1 between that which is perfectly just and that which falls a little short of justice4 ,the ideal life would be to choose thus firmly and delicately always1 yet if we often blunder and fail for want of perfect wisdom and clear light1 have we not the inward assurance that our aspiration has not been all in vain1 that it has brought us a little nearer to the ,supreme ,intellect whose effulgence draws us whilst it dazzles8 ,here is the true secret of that fascination which belongs to intellectual pursuits1 that they reveal to us a little more1 and yet a little more1 of the eternal order of the ,universe1 establishing us so firmly in what is known1 that we acquire an unshakable confidence in the laws which govern what is not1 and never can be1 known4 ,,contents4 ,,part ,i4 ,,the ,,physical ,,basis4 ,,letter ,,page ,i4 ,to a young man of letters who worked excessively #ag ,,ii4 ,to the same #bb ,,iii4 ,to a student in uncertain health #bg ,,iv4 ,to a muscular ,christian #db ,v4 ,to a student who neglected bodily exercise #dg ,,vi4 ,to an author in mortal disease #ec ,,vii4 ,to a young man of brilliant ability1 who had just taken his degree #eg ,,part ,,ii4 ,,the ,,moral ,,basis4 ,i4 ,to a moralist who had said that there was a want of moral fibre in the intellectual1 especially in poets and artists #fg ,,ii4 ,to an undisciplined writer #hj ,,iii4 ,to a friend who suggested the speculation which of the moral virtues was most essential to the intellectual life #ia ,,iv4 ,to a moralist who said that intellectual culture was not conducive to sexual morality #ih ,,part ,,iii4 ,,of ,,education4 ,i4 ,to a friend who recommended the author to learn this thing and that #ajd ,,ii4 ,to a friend who studied many things #aaj ,,iii4 ,to the same #abj ,,iv4 ,to a student of literature #acj ,v4 ,to a country gentleman who regretted that his son had the tendencies of a dilettant #acd ,,vi4 ,to the principal of a ,french college #acg ,,vii4 ,to the same #adc ,,viii4 ,to a student of modern languages #adi ,,ix4 ,to the same #aec ,x4 ,to a student who lamented his defective memory #afe ,,xi4 ,to a master of arts who said that a certain distinguished painter was half-educated #agj ,,part ,,iv4 ,,the ,,power ,,of ,,time4 ,i4 ,to a man of leisure who complained of want of time #agf ,,ii4 ,to a young man of great talent and energy who had magnificent plans for the future #ahe ,,iii4 ,to a man of business who desired to make himself better acquainted with literature1 but whose time for reading was limited #bjj ,,iv4 ,to a student who felt hurried and driven #bjg ,v4 ,to a friend who1 though he had no profession1 could not find time for his various intellectual pursuits #bab ,,part ,v4 ,,the ,,influences ,,of ,,money4 ,i4 ,to a very rich student #baf ,,ii4 ,to a genius careless in money matters #bbd ,,iii4 ,to a student in great poverty #bci ,,part ,,vi4 ,,custom ,,and ,,tradition4 ,i4 ,to a young gentleman who had firmly resolved never to wear anything but a gray coat #bdf ,,ii4 ,to a conservative who had accused the author of a want of respect for tradition #bed ,,iii4 ,to a lady who lamented that her son had intellectual doubts concerning the dogmas of the church #bfc ,,iv4 ,to the son of the lady to whom the preceding letter was addressed #bfi ,v4 ,to a friend who seemed to take credit to himself1 intellectually1 from the nature of his religious belief #bgf ,,vi4 ,to a ,roman ,catholic friend who accused the intellectual class of a want of reverence for authority #bhj ,,part ,,vii4 ,,women ,,and ,,marriage4 ,i4 ,to a young gentleman of intellectual tastes1 who1 without having as yet any particular lady in view1 had expressed1 in a general way1 his determination to get married #bhe ,,ii4 ,to a young gentleman who contemplated marriage #bia ,,iii4 ,to the same #bii ,,iv4 ,to the same #cjf ,v4 ,to the same #cab ,,vi4 ,to a solitary student #cbb ,,vii4 ,to a lady of high culture who found it difficult to associate with persons of her own sex #cbe ,,viii4 ,to a lady of high culture #ccj ,,ix4 ,to a young man of the middle class1 well educated1 who complained that it was difficult for him to live agreeably with his mother1 a person of somewhat authoritative disposition1 but uneducated #ccc ,,part ,,viii4 ,,aristocracy ,,and ,,democracy4 ,i4 ,to a young ,english nobleman #cda ,,ii4 ,to an ,english democrat #ceh ,,part ,,ix4 ,,society ,,and ,,solitude4 ,i4 ,to a lady who doubted the reality of intellectual friendships #cgd ,,ii4 ,to a young gentleman who lived much in fashionable society #cgi ,,iii4 ,to the same #chd ,,iv4 ,to the same #cia ,v4 ,to a young gentleman who kept entirely out of company #cig ,,vi4 ,to a friend who kindly warned the author of the bad effects of solitude #djb ,,part ,x4 ,,intellectual ,,hygienics4 ,i4 ,to a young author whilst he was writing his first book #dae ,,ii4 ,to a student in the first ardor of intellectual ambition #dbb ,,iii4 ,to an intellectual man who desired an outlet for his energies #dca ,,iv4 ,to the friend of a man of high culture who produced nothing #dda ,v4 ,to a student who felt hurried and driven #ddf ,,vi4 ,to an ardent friend who took no rest #dea ,,vii4 ,to the same #def ,,viii4 ,to a friend 7highly cultivated7 who congratulated himself on having entirely abandoned the habit of reading newspapers #dff ,,ix4 ,to an author who appreciated contemporary literature #dgj ,x4 ,to an author who kept very irregular hours #dgf ,,part ,,xi4 ,,trades ,,and ,,professions4 ,i4 ,to a young gentleman of ability and culture who had not decided about his profession #dhh ,,ii4 ,to a young gentleman who had literary and artistic tastes1 but no profession #dii ,,iii4 ,to a young gentleman who wished to devote himself to literature as a profession #ejd ,,iv4 ,to an energetic and successful cotton manufacturer #eac ,v4 ,to a young ,etonian who thought of becoming a cotton-spinner #ebb ,,part ,,xii4 ,,surroundings4 ,i4 ,to a friend who often changed his place of residence #ecj ,,ii4 ,to a friend who maintained that surroundings were a matter of indifference to a thoroughly occupied mind #eci ,,iii4 ,to an artist who was fitting up a magnificent new studio #edf ,,the ,,intellectual ,,life4 ,,part ,i4 ,,the ,,physical ,,basis4 ,,letter ,i4 ,,to ,a ,,young ,,man ,,of ,,letters ,,who ,,worked ,,excessively4 ,mental labor believed to be innocuous to healthy persons--,difficulty of testing this--,case of the poet ,wordsworth--,case of an eminent living author--,case of a literary clergyman--,case of an energetic tradesman--,instances of two ,londoners who wrote professionally--,scott's paralysis--,byron's death--,all intellectual labor proceeds on a physical basis4 ,so little is really known about the action of the nervous system1 that to go into the subject from the physiological point of view would be to undertake a most difficult investigation1 entirely beyond the competence of an unscientific person like your present correspondent4 ,you will1 therefore1 permit me1 in reference to this1 to leave you to the teaching of the most advanced physiologists of the time2 but ,i may be able to offer a few practical suggestions1 based on the experience of intellectual workers1 which may be of use to a man whose career is likely to be one of severe and almost uninterrupted intellectual labor4 ,a paper was read several years ago before the members of a society in ,london1 in which the author maintained that mental labor was never injurious to a perfectly healthy human organization1 and that the numerous cases of break-down1 which are commonly attributed to excessive brain-work1 are due1 in reality1 to the previous operation of disease4 ,this is one of those assertions which cannot be answered in a sentence4 ,concentrated within the briefest expression it comes to this1 that mental labor cannot produce disease1 but may aggravate the consequences of disease which already exists4 ,the difficulty of testing this is obvious2 for so long as health remains quite perfect1 it remains perfect1 of course1 whether the brain is used or not2 and when failure of health becomes manifest1 it is not always easy to decide in what degree mental labor may have been the cause of it4 ,again1 the accuracy of so general a statement cannot be proved by any number of instances in its favor1 since it is universally admitted that brain-work is not the only cause of disease1 and no one affirms that it is more than one amongst many causes which may impede the bodily functions4 ,when the poet ,wordsworth was engaged in composing the ,white ,doe of ,rylstone1 he received a wound in his foot1 and he observed that the continuation of the literary labor increased the irritation of the wound2 whereas by suspending his work he could diminish it1 and absolute mental rest produced a perfect cure4 ,in connection with this incident he remarked that poetic excitement1 accompanied by protracted labor in composition1 always brought on more or less of bodily derangement4 ,he preserved himself from permanently injurious consequences by his excellent habits of life4 ,a very eminent living author1 whose name ,i do not feel at liberty to mention1 is always prostrated by severe illness at the conclusion of each of his works2 another is unwell every ,sunday1 because he does not write on that day1 and the recoil after the mental stretch of the week is too much for him4 ,in the case of ,wordsworth1 the physical constitution is believed to have been sound4 ,his health at seventy-two was excellent2 the two other instances are more doubtful in this respect1 yet both these writers enjoy very fair health1 after the pressure of brain-work has been removed for any considerable time4 ,a clergyman of robust organization1 who does a good deal of literary work at intervals1 told me that1 whenever he had attempted to make it regular1 the consequence had always been distressing nervous sensations1 from which at other times he was perfectly free4 ,a tradesman1 whose business affords an excellent outlet for energetic bodily activity1 told me that having attempted1 in addition to his ordinary work1 to acquire a foreign language which seemed likely to be useful to him1 he had been obliged to abandon it on account of alarming cerebral symptoms4 ,this man has immense vigor and energy1 but the digestive functions1 in this instance1 are sluggish4 ,however1 when he abandoned study1 the cerebral inconveniences disappeared1 and have never returned since4 ,two ,londoners who followed literature as a profession1 and who both worked to excess1 had cerebral attacks of a still more decided kind4 ,one of them1 after his recovery1 resolved to regulate his work in future1 so that it might never pass the limits of moderation4 ,he is now living1 and in possession of a remarkably clear and richly furnished intellect4 ,the other1 who returned to his old habits1 died in two years from softening of the brain4 ,i am not aware that in these cases there was any other disease than that produced by an immoderate use of the mental powers4 ,the health of ,sir ,walter ,scott--we have this on his own testimony--was uncommonly robust1 and there is every reason to believe that his paralysis was brought on by the excessive labor which resulted from his pecuniary embarrassments1 and that without such excessive mental labor and anxiety he would have preserved his health much longer4 ,the death of ,byron was due1 no doubt1 quite as much to habits of dissipation as to poetical excitement2 still it is probable that he would have borne either of these evil influences if it had not been accompanied by the other2 and that to a man whose way of life was so exhausting as ,byron's was1 the addition of constant poetical excitement and hard work in production1 may be said without exaggeration to have killed him4 ,we know that ,scott1 with all his facility1 had a dread of that kind of excitement1 and withdrew from the poetical arena to avoid it4 ,we know1 too1 that the brain of ,southey proved ultimately unable to endure the burden of the tasks he laid upon it4 ,difficult as it may be in some instances to ascertain quite accurately whether an overworked man had perfectly sound bodily health to begin with1 obvious as it may be that in many breakdowns the final failure has been accelerated by diseases independent of mental work1 the facts remain1 that the excessive exercise of the mental powers is injurious to bodily health and that all intellectual labor proceeds upon a physical basis4 ,no man can safely forget this1 and act as if he were a pure spirit1 superior to physical considerations4 ,let me then1 in other letters on this subject1 direct your attention to the close connection which exists between intellectual production and the state of the body and the brain2 not with the authority of a physician1 but with the sympathy of a fellow-laborer1 who has learned something from his own experience1 and still more from the more varied experience of his friends4 ,,letter ,,ii4 ,,to ,a ,,young ,,man ,,of ,,letters ,,who ,,worked ,,excessively4 ,mental labor rarely compatible with the best physical conditions--,wordsworth's manner of composition--,mr4 ,w4 ,f4 ,a4 ,delane--,george ,sand working under pressure--,sir ,walter ,scott's field-sports--,physical exercise the best tranquillizer of the nervous system--,eugne ,sue--,shelley's love of boating--,nervousness the affliction of brain-workers--,nature's kindly warning--,working by spurts--,beckford--,byron--,indolence of men of genius fortunate--,distressing nature of cerebral fatigue4 ,it is possible that many of the worst results of intellectual labor may be nothing more than indirect results4 ,we may suffer1 not from the work itself1 but from sedentary confinement1 from want of exercise1 from insufficient variety and amusement4 ,mental labor is seldom compatible with the best physical conditions2 it is so sometimes1 however1 or may be made so by an effort of will and resolution4 ,wordsworth composed his poetry in the open air1 as he walked1 and so preserved himself from the evil of close confinement to the desk4 ,mr4 ,w4 ,f4 ,a4 ,delane1 who did so much for the organization of the ,times newspaper when it was under his management1 began by doing law reports for that paper1 in ,london and on circuit4 ,his appearance of rude health surprised other members of his profession1 but he accounted for it by the care he took to compensate for the bad air and sedentary labor in the courts of law by travelling between the assize towns on horseback1 and also by a more than commonly temperate way of life1 since he carefully avoided the bar dinners1 eating and drinking for health alone4 ,it is possible to endure the most unhealthy labor when there are frequent intervals of invigorating exercise1 accompanied by habits of strict sobriety4 ,the plan1 so commonly resorted to1 of trying to get health in stock for the rest of the year by a fortnight's hurried travelling in the autumn1 is not so good as ,mr4 ,delane's way of getting the week's supply of health during the course of the week itself4 ,it happened once that ,george ,sand was hurried by the proprietor of a newspaper who wanted one of her novels as a feuilleton4 ,she has always been a careful and deliberate worker1 very anxious to give all necessary labor in preparation1 and1 like all such conscientious laborers1 she can scarcely endure to be pushed4 ,however1 on this occasion she worked overtime1 as they say in ,lancashire1 and to enable herself to bear the extra pressure she did part of the work at night in order to keep several hours of daylight clear for her walks in the country1 where she lived4 ,many writers1 in the same situation1 would have temporarily abandoned exercise1 but ,george ,sand clung to it all the more at a time when it was especially necessary that she should be well4 ,in the same way ,sir ,walter ,scott counterbalanced the effects of sedentary occupation by his hearty enjoyment of field-sports4 ,it has been supposed that his outdoor exercise1 which to weaker persons appears excessive1 may have helped to bring on the stroke of paralysis which finally disabled him2 but the fact is1 that when the stroke arrived ,sir ,walter had altered his habits of life in obedience to what he believed to be his duty1 and had abandoned1 or nearly so1 the active amusements of his happier years4 ,i believe rather that whilst he took so much exercise his robust constitution not only enabled him to endure it without injury1 but required it to keep the nervous system healthy1 in spite of his hard work in literary composition4 ,physical exercise1 when the constitution is strong enough to endure it1 is by far the best tranquillizer of the nervous system which has yet been discovered1 and ,sir ,walter's life at ,abbotsford was1 in this respect at least1 grounded on the true philosophy of conduct4 ,the ,french romancer1 ,eugene ,sue1 wrote till ten o'clock every morning1 and passed the rest of the day1 when at his country house1 either in horse-exercise1 or field-sports1 or gardening1 for all of which he had a liking which amounted to passion4 ,shelley's delight was boating1 which at once exercised his muscles and relieved his mind from the weariness of incessant invention or speculation4 ,it will generally be found1 that whenever a man of much intellectual distinction has maintained his powers in full activity1 it has been by avoiding the bad effects of an entirely sedentary life4 ,i well believe that a person naturally robust1 with a clear and powerful brain1 could bear twelve or fourteen hours' work every day for years together so far as the work itself is concerned1 if only so large an expenditure of time left a sufficient margin for amusement1 and exercise1 and sleep4 ,but the privation of exercise1 by weakening the digestive and assimilative powers1 reduces the flow of healthy and rich blood to the brain--the brain requires an enormous quantity of blood1 especially when the cerebral matter is rapidly destroyed by intellectual labor--and usually brings on nervousness1 the peculiar affliction of the over-driven mental laborer4 ,this nervousness is ,nature's kindly warning1 preserving us1 if we attend to it in time1 from much more serious consequences4 ,the best preventive of it1 and often the only cure1 is plenty of moderate exercise4 ,the customs of the upper classes in ,england happily provide this in the best shape1 that of amusement enjoyed in society1 but our middle classes in large towns do not get nearly enough of it1 and the most studious are always strongly tempted to neglect it altogether4 ,men of great imaginative power are commonly addicted to a habit which is peculiarly dangerous4 ,they work as race-horses work1 with the utmost intensity of effort during short spaces of time1 taxing all their powers whilst the brilliant effort lasts4 ,when ,beckford wrote the wonderful tale ,vathek in his twentieth year1 he did it at a single sitting1 which lasted for three days and two nights1 and it cost him a serious illness4 ,several of the best poems by ,byron were written1 if not quite with equal rapidity1 still on the same principle of composition at white heat4 ,in cases of this kind1 ,nature provides her own remedy in the indolence of the imaginative temperament1 which leaves large spaces of time for the action of the recuperative processes4 ,the same law governs the physical energies of the carnivora1 which maintain1 or recover1 their capacity for extraordinary effort by intervals of absolute repose4 ,in its long spaces of mental rest the imaginative temperament recruits itself by amusement1 which in ,england usually includes physical exercise of some kind4 ,this fortunate indolence of men of genius would in most instances ensure their safety if they were not impelled by necessity to labor beyond the suggestions of inclination4 ,the exhausted brain never of itself seeks the additional exhaustion of hard work4 ,you know very well when you are tired1 and at such times the natural man in you asks plainly enough for rest and recreation4 ,the art is so to arrange our lives that the natural man may sometimes have his way1 and forget1 if only for a time1 the labors which lead to weariness--not to that pleasant weariness of the body which promises soundest sleep1 but the distressing fatigue of the exhausted spirit which is tortured by the importunity of ideas which it is unable to express1 and apprehensions that it cannot dismiss1 which fights through the sleepless night the phantoms of unconquerable horror4 ,,note4--,the bad effect of literary composition on the physical state which was observed by ,wordsworth in his own case was also noticed by ,shelley during the composition of the ,cenci1 which1 he said1 had been a fine antidote to nervous medicines1 and kept1 he believed1 the pain in his side as sticks do a fire4 ,these influences are best observed in people whose health is delicate4 ,although ,joubert1 for example1 had an extremely clear intellect1 he could scarcely write at all on account of the physical consequences4 ,i have come to the conclusion that literary work acts simply as a strong stimulant4 ,in moderate quantities it is not only innocent1 but decidedly beneficial2 in excess it acts like poison on the nervous system4 ,what constitutes excess every man has to find out by his own experience4 ,a page was excess to ,joubert1 a chapter was moderation to ,alexandre ,dumas4 ,,letter ,,iii4 ,,to ,a ,,student ,,in ,,uncertain ,,health4 ,habits of ,kant1 the philosopher--,objection to an over-minute regularity of habit--,value of independence of character--,case of an ,english author--,case of an ,english resident in ,paris--,scott an abundant eater and drinker--,goethe also--,an eminent ,french publisher--,turgot--,importance of good cookery--,wine drinking--,ale--,the aid of stimulants treacherous--,the various effects of tobacco--,tea and coffee--,case of an ,english clergyman--,balzac--,the ,arabia custom of coffee-drinking--,wisdom of occasionally using stimulants4 ,,immanuel ,,kant1 who was a master in the art of taking care of himself1 had by practice acquired a dexterous mode of folding himself up in the bed-clothes1 by passing them over and under his shoulders1 so that1 when the operation was complete1 he was shut up like the silkworm in his cocoon4 ,when ,i am thus snugly folded up in my bed1 he would say to his friends1 ,i say to myself1 can any man be in better health than ,i am8 ,there is nothing in the lives of philosophers more satisfactory than this little passage4 ,if ,kant had said to himself1 ,can anybody be wiser1 more learned1 more justly deserving of immortal fame than ,i am8 we should have felt1 that however agreeable this opinion might have been to the philosopher who held it1 his private satisfaction stood in need of confirmation from without2 and even if he had really been all this1 we might have reflected that wisdom and learning still leave their possessor exposed to the acutest kinds of suffering4 ,but when a philosopher rolls himself up at night1 and congratulates himself on the possession of perfect health1 we only think what a happy man he was to possess that first of blessings1 and what a sensible man to know the value of it6 ,and ,kant had a deeper happiness in this reflection than any which could spring from the mere consciousness of possessing one of the unearned gifts of nature4 ,the excellence of his health was due in part to a sufficiently good constitution1 but it was due also to his own extreme carefulness about his habits4 ,by an unceasing observation of his own bodily life1 as far as possible removed from the anxiety of hypochondriacs1 he managed to keep the physical machine in such regular order1 that for more than thirty years he always rose precisely at the same minute4 ,if his object had been health for health's sake1 the result would still have been well worth any sacrifices of momentary inclination that it cost him2 but ,kant had a higher purpose4 ,he well knew that the regularity of the intellectual life depended entirely on the regularity of the bodily functions1 and1 unlike the foolish men alluded to by ,goethe who pass the day in complaining of headache1 and the night in drinking the wine that produces it1 ,kant not only knew that regular health was necessary to his work as a philosopher1 but did everything in his power to preserve it4 ,few intellectual laborers have in this respect given evidence of such persistent strength of will4 ,in his manner of living he did not consult custom1 but the needs of his individual nature4 ,it is not always easy for great brain-workers to follow with perfect fidelity the customs of the people about them4 ,these usages have been gradually formed by the majority to suit the needs of the majority2 but there are cases where a close adherence to them would be a serious hindrance to the highest and best activity4 ,a good example of this is ,kant's intense antipathy to beer4 ,it did not suit him1 and he was right in his non-conformity to ,german usage on this point1 but he was mistaken in believing beer to be universally injurious4 ,there is a very general belief in ,england that what is called a good breakfast is the foundation of the labor of the day4 ,kant's breakfast1 which he took at five in the morning at all seasons of the year1 consisted of a cup of tea and a pipe of tobacco4 ,on this he worked eight hours1 either in lecturing or writing--a long stretch of uninterrupted labor4 ,he dined at one1 and this was his only meal1 for he had no supper4 ,the single repast was a deviation from ordinary usage1 but ,kant found that it suited him1 probably because he read in the evening from six till a quarter to ten1 and a second meal might have interfered with this by diminishing his power of attention4 ,there exists a strong medical objection to this habit of taking only one meal in twenty-four hours1 which indeed is almost unknown in ,england1 though not extremely rare on the ,continent4 ,i know an old gentleman who for forty years has lived as ,kant did1 and enjoys excellent health and uncommon mental clearness4 ,a detail which illustrates ,kant's attention to whatever could affect his physical life1 is his rule to withdraw his mind from everything requiring effort fifteen minutes before he went to bed4 ,his theory1 which is fully confirmed by the experience of others1 was1 that there was a risk of missing sleep if the brain was not tranquillized before bed-time4 ,he knew that the intellectual life of the day depended on the night's rest1 and he took this precaution to secure it4 ,the regularity of his daily walk1 taken during the afternoon in all weathers1 and the strict limitation of the hours of rest1 also helped the soundness of his sleep4 ,he would not walk out in company1 for the whimsical reason that if he opened his mouth a colder air would reach his lungs than that which passed through the nostrils2 and he would not eat alone1 but always had guests to dinner4 ,there are good physiological reasons in favor of pleasant society at table1 and1 besides these1 there are good intellectual reasons also4 ,by attention to these rules of his1 ,kant managed to keep both body and mind in a working order1 more uninterrupted than is usual with men who go through much intellectual labor4 ,the solitary objection to his system is the excessive regularity of habit to which it bound him by chains of his own forging4 ,he found a quiet happiness in this regularity2 indeed1 happiness is said to be more commonly found in habit that in anything else1 so deeply does it satisfy a great permanent instinct of our nature4 ,but a minute regularity of habit is objectionable1 because it can only be practicable at home1 and is compatible only with an existence of the most absolute tranquillity4 ,kant did not travel1 and never could have travelled4 ,he was a bachelor1 and could not have ceased to be a bachelor1 without a disturbance that would have been intolerable to him4 ,he enjoyed the full benefits of his system without experiencing its disadvantages1 but any considerable change of situation would have made the disadvantages apparent4 ,few lives can be so minutely regulated without risk of future inconvenience4 ,kant's example is a good one so far as this1 that it proved a sort of independence of character which would be valuable to every student4 ,all who need to keep their minds in the best possible condition ought to have resolution enough to regulate their living in a manner which experience1 in their case1 proves to be most favorable4 ,whatever may be the authority of custom1 a wise man makes himself independent of usages which are impediments to his best activity4 ,i know an author who was always unwell about eleven o'clock in the morning--so unwell that he could do nothing but lament his miserable fate4 ,knowing by experience the powerful effect of regimen1 ,i inquired whether he enjoyed his breakfast4 ,no1 he did not4 ,then why did he attempt to eat any breakfast8 ,it turned out that this foolish man swallowed every morning two cups of bad coffee and a quantity of greasy food1 from a patriotic deference to the customs of his country4 ,he was persuaded to abandon this unsuitable habit and to eat nothing till half-past ten1 when his adviser prescribed a well-cooked little djeuner la fourchette1 accompanied by half a bottle of sound ,bordeaux4 ,the effect was magical4 ,my friend felt light and cheerful before djeuner1 and worked quite happily and well1 whilst after djeuner he felt like a horse that has eaten his corn4 ,nor was the good effect a transitory one2 the bad symptoms never returned and he still adheres to his new arrangement4 ,this little reform made a wretched existence happy1 and has had for its result an increase in production with a diminution of fatigue4 ,the explanation is that the stomach did not ask for the early breakfast1 and had a hard fight to overcome it1 after which came exhaustion and a distaste both for food and work4 ,there are cases where an opposite rule is the right one4 ,an ,englishman living in ,paris found the ,french djeuner unsuitable for him1 and discovered that he worked best on a substantial ,english breakfast1 with strong tea1 at eight in the morning1 after which he went on working all day without any further nourishment till dinner at six in the evening4 ,a friend of ,sir ,walter ,scott's1 who had stayed with him at ,abbotsford1 told me that ,sir ,walter ate and drank like everybody else as to times and seasons1 but much more abundantly than people of less vigorous organization4 ,goethe used to work till eleven without taking anything1 then he drank a cup of chocolate and worked till one4 ,at two he dined4 ,this meal was the important meal of the day4 ,his appetite was immense4 ,even on the days when he complained of not being hungry he ate much more than most men4 ,puddings1 sweets1 and cakes were always welcome4 ,he sat a long while over his wine4 ,he was fond of wine1 and drank daily his two or three bottles4 ,an eminent ,french publisher1 one of the most clear-headed and hard-working men of his generation1 never touched food or drink till six in the evening1 when he ate an excellent dinner with his guests4 ,he found this system favorable to his work1 but a man of less robust constitution would have felt exhausted in the course of the day4 ,turgot could not work well till after he had dined copiously1 but many men cannot think after a substantial meal2 and here1 in spite of the example set by ,scott and ,goethe1 let me observe that nothing interferes so much with brainwork as over-eating4 ,the intellectual workman requires nourishment of the best possible quality1 but the quantity ought always to be well within the capacity of his digestive powers4 ,the truth appears to be1 that whilst the intellectual life makes very large demands upon nutrition--for cerebral activity cannot go forward without constant supplies of force1 which must come ultimately from what we have eaten--this kind of life1 being sedentary1 is unfavorable to the work of digestion4 ,brain-workers cannot eat like sportsmen and farmers without losing many hours in torpor1 and yet they need nutrition as much as if they led active lives4 ,the only way out of this difficulty is to take care that the food is good enough for a moderate quantity of it to maintain the physical and mental powers4 ,the importance of scientific cookery can hardly be exaggerated4 ,intellectual labor is1 in its origin1 as dependent upon the art of cookery as the dissemination of its results is dependent upon paper-making and printing4 ,this is one of those matters which people cannot be brought to consider seriously2 but cookery in its perfection--the great science of preparing food in the way best suited to our use--is really the most important of all sciences1 and the mother of the arts4 ,the wonderful theory that the most ignorant cookery is the most favorable to health is only fit for the dark ages4 ,it is grossly and stupidly untrue4 ,a scientific cook will keep you in regular health1 when an ignorant one will offer you the daily alternative of starving or indigestion4 ,the great question of drinks is scarcely less important4 ,sound natural wines1 not strengthened by any addition of alcohol1 are known to supply both stimulus and nourishment to the brain4 ,goethe's practice was not irrational1 though he drank fifty thousand bottles in his lifetime4 ,still it is not necessary to imitate him to this extent4 ,the wine-drinking populations have keener and livelier wits than those who use other beverages4 ,it is proved by long experience that the pure juice of the grape sustains the force and activity of the brain4 ,the poets who from age to age have sung the praise of wine were not wholly either deceivers or deceived4 ,in the lands of the vine1 where the plant is looked upon as a nursing mother1 men do not injure their health by drinking2 but in the colder ,north1 where the grape can never ripen1 the deaths from intemperance are frequent4 ,bread and wine are almost pure gifts of nature1 though both are prepared by man after the old traditional ways4 ,these are not poisons1 but gin and absinthe are poisons1 madness poured out from a bottle6 ,kant and ,goethe loved the pure ,rhine wine1 and their brains were clear and vigorous to the utmost span of life4 ,it was not wine that ruined ,burns and ,byron1 or ,baudelaire1 or ,alfred de ,musset4 ,notwithstanding ,kant's horror of beer1 that honest northern drink deserves our friendly recognition4 ,it has quite a peculiar effect upon the nervous system1 giving a rest and calm which no other drink can procure for it so safely4 ,it is said that beer drinkers are slow1 and a little stupid2 that they have an ox-like placidity not quite favorable to any brilliant intellectual display4 ,but there are times when this placidity is what the laboring brain most needs4 ,after the agitations of too active thinking there is safety in a tankard of ale4 ,the wine drinkers are agile1 but they are excitable2 the beer drinkers are heavy1 but in their heaviness there is peace4 ,in that clear golden drink which ,england has brewed for more than a thousand ,octobers1 and will brew for a thousand more1 we may find perhaps some explanation of that absence of irritability which is the safe-guard of the national character1 which makes it faithful in its affections1 easy to govern1 not easy to excite to violence4 ,if ,i have spoken favorably of beer and wine as having certain intellectual uses1 please remember that ,i recommend only the habitual use of them1 not mad rites of ,bacchus1 and even the habitual use only just so far as it may suit the individual constitution4 ,the liberal regimen of ,scott and ,goethe would not answer in every case1 and there are organizations1 often very robust1 in which intoxicating drinks of all kinds1 even in the most moderate quantity1 impede the brain's action instead of aiding it4 ,two of the most able men ,i have ever known could not drink pure wine of any kind because it sent the blood to the head1 with consequent cerebral oppression4 ,and whilst on this subject ,i ought to observe1 that the aid which these stimulants afford1 even when the body gratefully accepts them1 is often treacherous from its very acceptability4 ,men who are over-driven--and the number of such men is unhappily very great in these days--say that without stimulants they could not get through their labor2 but the stimulants often delude us as to the limits of our natural powers and encourage us to attempt too much4 ,the help they give us is not altogether illusory2 under certain limitations it is real1 but many have gone farther than the reality of the assistance warranted4 ,the ally brings to us an increase of forces1 but he comes with appearances of power surpassing the reality1 and we undertake tasks beyond our strength4 ,in drinking1 as in eating1 the best rule for the intellectual is moderation in quantity with good quality1 a sound wine1 and not enough of it to foster self-delusion4 ,the use of tobacco has so much extended itself in the present generation that we are all obliged to make a decision for ourselves on the ancient controversy between its friends and enemies4 ,we cannot form a reasonable opinion about tobacco without bearing in mind that it produces1 according to circumstances1 one of two entirely distinct and even opposite classes of effects4 ,in certain states of the body it acts as a stimulant1 in other states as a narcotic4 ,people who have a dislike to smoking affirm that it stupefies2 but this assertion1 at least so far as the temporary consequences are concerned1 is not supported by experience4 ,most of the really brilliant conversations that ,i have listened to have been accompanied by clouds of tobacco-smoke2 and a great deal of the best literary composition that is produced by contemporary authors is wrought by men who are actually smoking whilst they work4 ,my own experience is that very moderate smoking acts as a pleasant stimulus upon the brain1 whilst it produces a temporary lassitude of the muscular system1 not perceptible in times of rest1 but an appreciable hindrance in times of muscular exertion4 ,it is better therefore for men who feel these effects from tobacco to avoid it when they are in exercise1 and to use it only when the body rests and the mind labors4 ,pray remember1 however1 that this is the experience of an exceedingly moderate smoker1 who has not yet got himself into the general condition of body which is brought on by a larger indulgence in tobacco4 ,on the other hand1 it is evident that men engaged in physical labor find a muscular stimulus in occasional smoking1 and not a temporary lassitude4 ,it is probable that the effect varies with individual cases1 and is never precisely what our own experience would lead us to imagine4 ,for excessive smokers1 it appears to be little more than the tranquillizing of a sort of uneasiness1 the continual satisfaction of a continual craving4 ,i have never been able to ascertain that moderate smoking diminished intellectual force2 but ,i have observed in excessive smokers a decided weakening of the will1 and a preference for talking about work to the effort of actual labor4 ,the opinions of medical men on this subject are so much at variance that their science only adds to our uncertainty4 ,one doctor tells me that the most moderate smoking is unquestionably injurious1 whilst others affirm that it is innocent4 ,speaking simply from self-observation1 ,i find that in my own case tea and coffee are far more perilous than tobacco4 ,almost all ,english people are habitual tea-drinkers1 and as the tea they drink is very strong1 they may be said to use it in excess4 ,the unpleasant symptoms which tea-poisoning produces in a patient not inured by habit1 disappear in the seasoned tea-drinker1 leaving only a certain exhilaration1 which appears to be perfectly innocuous4 ,if tea is a safe stimulant1 it is certainly an agreeable one1 and there seems to be no valid reason why brain-workers should refuse themselves that solace4 ,i knew a worthy clergyman many years ago who from the most conscientious motives denied himself ale and wine1 but found a fountain of consolation in the tea-pot4 ,his usual allowance was sixteen cups1 all of heroic strength1 and the effect upon his brain seems to have been altogether favorable1 for his sermons were both long and eloquent1 and to this day he is preaching still1 without any diminution of his powers4 ,french people find in coffee the most efficacious remedy for the temporary torpor of the mind which results from the processes of digestion4 ,balzac drank great quantities of coffee whilst he wrote2 and this1 it is believed1 brought on the terrible nervous disease that accelerated his end4 ,the best proof that tea and coffee are favorable to intellectual expression is that all nations use one or the other as aids to conversation4 ,in ,mr4 ,palgrave's ,travels in ,arabia there is never any talk without the inevitable coffee1 that fragrant ,arabian berry prepared with such delicate cunning that it yields the perfect aroma4 ,the wisdom of occasionally using these various stimulants for intellectual purposes is proved by a single consideration4 ,each of us has a little cleverness and a great deal of sluggish stupidity4 ,there are certain occasions when we absolutely need the little cleverness that we possess4 ,the orator needs it when he speaks1 the poet when he versifies1 but neither cares how stupid he may become when the oration is delivered and the lyric set down on paper4 ,the stimulant serves to bring out the talent when it is wanted1 like the wind in the pipes of an organ4 ,what will it matter if ,i am even a little duller afterwards8 says the genius2 ,i can afford to be dull when ,i have done4 ,but the truth still remains that there are stimulants and stimulants4 ,not the nectar of the gods themselves were worth the dash of a wave upon the beach1 and the pure cool air of the morning4 ,,note4--,what is said in the above letter about the employment of stimulants is intended to apply only to cases in which there is no organic disease4 ,the harm which diseased persons do to themselves by conforming to customs which are innocent for others is as lamentable as it is easily avoidable4 ,two bottles of any natural wine grown above the latitude of ,lyons are a permissible daily allowance to a man whose organs are all sound2 but the doctors in the wine districts unanimously forbid pure wine when there is a chronic inflammatory tendency4 ,in these cases even the most honest ,bordeaux ought to be diluted with twice its volume of water4 ,there are many chronic diseases which tobacco irritates and accelerates4 ,both wine and tobacco are injurious to weak eyes4 ,,letter ,,iv4 ,,to ,a ,,muscular ,,christian4 ,muscular and intellectual tendencies in two boys--,difficulty of finding time to satisfy both--,plato on the influences of music and gymnastics--,somnolence and digestion--,neglect of literature--,natural restlessness of the active temperament--,case of a ,garibaldian officer--,difficulty of taking a sufficient interest in exercise--,a boar hunt4 ,i know two little boys1 sons of a near neighbor1 who have from1 childhood exhibited opposite tendencies4 ,one of them is incessantly active1 always out of doors in any weather1 busy about horses1 and farming1 and game1 heedless of his books1 and studying only under positive compulsion4 ,the other sits at home with his lessons or a story book1 and only goes out because he is incited by the fraternal example4 ,the two lads represent two distinct varieties of human life1 the active and the intellectual4 ,the elder is happiest during physical exertion2 the younger is happiest when his brain is fully occupied4 ,left entirely to themselves1 without the equalizing influence of the outside world and the ways of living which general custom has established1 they would lead the most opposite lives4 ,the elder would inevitably become a farmer1 that he might live in the country and take exercise all day long1 or else he would seek adventure in wild travel1 or in romantic warfare2 but the younger would very quickly be taken possession of by some engrossing intellectual pursuit1 and lead the life of a sedentary student4 ,the problem which these two young lives have before them is the reconciliation of their tendencies4 ,since they come of cultivated parents1 the intellectual lad has the better chance of following his own bent4 ,both will have to take their ,university degrees1 and the younger has the advantage there4 ,still there are powerful influences in favor of the elder4 ,his activity will be encouraged by the admiration of his companions1 and by the example of the country gentlemen who are his neighbors4 ,he can ride1 and row1 and swim2 he is beginning to shoot2 at twenty he will be a sportsman4 ,when once he has taken his degree1 ,i wonder what will be the advances in his intellectual culture4 ,fraternal and social influences will preserve the younger from absolute physical inaction2 but there are not any influences powerful enough to keep the elder safe from intellectual rust4 ,if you1 who are a distinguished sportsman and athlete1 would kindly inform us with perfect frankness of the line which your studies have followed since you quitted ,eton1 we should be the wiser for your experience4 ,have gymnastic exercises hardened you1 as ,plato said they did1 when pursued excessively8 and do you need the musical studies which he both valued and dreaded as the most powerful of softening influences8 ,if you have energy enough to lead both lives1 pray how do you find the time8 ,as to ,plato's musical influence1 you invite it1 and yet you treacherously elude its power4 ,after being out all day in the pursuit of sylvan pleasures 7if shooting on treeless wastes can be called a sylvan pleasure71 you come home at nightfall ravenous4 ,then you do ample justice to your dinner1 and having satisfied your faim de chasseur1 you go into the drawing-room1 and ask your wife to play and sing to you4 ,if ,plato could witness that pretty scene1 he would approve your obedience to his counsels4 ,he would behold an athletic ,englishman stretching his mighty limbs on a couch of soft repose1 and letting his soul grow tender as his ears drank ravishing harmonies4 ,if1 however1 the ancient sage1 delighted with so sweet a picture of strength refined by song1 were to dwell upon the sight as ,i have done1 he would perceive too soon that1 although your body was present indeed1 your soul had become deaf in sleep's oblivion4 ,so it happens to you night after night1 and the music reaches you no more than the songs of choristers reach the dead in the graves below4 ,and the elevating influences of literature8 ,you have books1 of course1 in abundance4 ,there is a library1 amongst other luxuries of your home4 ,but the literature your intellect feeds upon is in the columns of the ,field1 your newspaper4 ,yet this neglect of the means of culture is not due to any natural feebleness of the mind4 ,your brain1 by its nature1 is as vigorous as your vigorous body4 ,it is sleep1 and weariness1 and the great necessary business of digestion1 that drown your intellectual energies4 ,the work of repairing so great a destruction of muscle is nature's chief concern4 ,since you became the mighty hunter that you are1 the wear and tear have been enormous1 and the necessary rapidity of reconstruction has absorbed your rich vitality4 ,i will not question the wisdom of your choice1 if there has been any deliberate choice1 though perhaps the life of action that you lead may have grown rather out of circumstances determining habit than from any conscious resolution4 ,health is so much more necessary to happiness than culture1 that few who could choose between them would sacrifice it for learning1 unless they were impelled by irresistible instincts4 ,and beyond the great delight of health and strength there is a restlessness in men born to be active which must have its outlet in activity4 ,i knew a brave ,italian who had followed ,garibaldi in all his romantic enterprises1 who had suffered from privation and from wounds1 who had not only faced death in the wildest adventures1 but1 what is even more terrible to the active temperament1 had risked health from frequent exposure2 and when ,i asked him whether it was affection to his famous chief1 or faith in a political creed1 or some more personal motive that had led him to this scorn of prudence1 he answered that1 after honest self-examination1 he believed the most powerful motive to be the passion for an active life4 ,the active temperament likes physical action for its own sake1 and not as a means of health4 ,activity renews itself and claims larger and larger satisfaction1 till at last the habit of it absorbs the whole energy of the man4 ,although such a life as yours would be incompatible with the work ,i have to do1 it would be an unmixed benefit to me to take a greater interest in exercise4 ,if you could but communicate that interest1 how willingly would ,i become your pupil6 ,the fatal law of the studious temperament is1 that in exercise itself it must find some intellectual charm1 so that we quit our books in the library only to go and read the infinite book of nature4 ,we cannot go out in the country without incessantly thinking about either botany1 or geology1 or landscape painting1 and it is difficult for us to find a refuge from the importunate habit of investigation4 ,sport is the only refuge1 but the difficulty is to care about it sufficiently to avoid ennui4 ,when you have not the natural instinct1 how are you to supply its place by any make-believe excitement8 ,there is no position in the world more wearisome than that of a man inwardly indifferent to the amusement in which he is trying to take part4 ,you can watch for game with an invincible patience1 for you have the natural instinct1 but after the first ten minutes on the skirts of the wood ,i lay my gun down and begin to botanize4 ,last week a friendly neighbor invited me to a boar-hunt4 ,the boar was supposed to be in the middle of a great impenetrable plantation1 and all ,i did during the whole morning was to sit in my saddle awaiting the exit of the beast1 cantering from one point of the wood's circumference to another1 as the cry of the dogs guided me4 ,was it pleasure8 ,a true hunter would have found interest enough in expectation1 but ,i felt like a man on a railway-platform who is waiting for a train that is late4 ,,letter ,v4 ,,to ,a ,,student ,,who ,,neglected ,,bodily ,,exercise4 ,difficulty of conciliating the animal and the intellectual lives--,bodily activity sometimes preserved by an effort of the will--,necessity of faith in exercise--,incompatibility between physical and intellectual living disappears in large spaces of time--,franklin's theory about concentration in exercise--,time an essential factor--,health of a rural postman--,pedestrian habits of ,wordsworth--,pedestrian and equestrian habits of ,sir ,walter ,scott--,goethe's wild delight in physical exercise--,alexander ,humboldt combated early delicacy by exercise--,intellectual utilities of physical action4 ,we have done those things which we ought not to have done2 we have left undone those things which we ought to have done1 and there is no health in us4 ,how applicable1 my dear brother1 are these words which the ,church1 in her wisdom1 has seen to be adapted to all sinners--how applicable1 ,i say1 are they to students most especially6 ,they have quite a personal applicability to you and me4 ,we have read all day long1 and written till three o'clock in the morning2 we have taken no exercise for weeks1 and there is no health in us4 ,the doctor scrutinizes our wearied eyes1 and knows that our brains are weary4 ,little do we need his warnings1 for does not ,nature herself remind us of our disobedience1 and tell us in language not to be misinterpreted1 to amend the error of our ways8 ,our digestion is sluggish and imperfect2 we are as nervous as delicate ladies1 and there is no health in us4 ,how easy it is to follow one of the two lives--the animal or the intellectual6 how difficult to conciliate the two6 ,in every one of us there exists an animal which might have been as vigorous as wolves and foxes1 if it had been left to develop itself in freedom4 ,but besides the animal1 there existed also a mind1 and the mental activity restrained the bodily activity1 till at last there is a serious danger of putting an end to it altogether4 ,i know two men1 about fifty-five years old both of them1 and both of them admirably active4 ,they tell me that their bodily activity has been preserved by an effort of the will2 that if they had not resolutely kept up the habit of using legs and arms in daily work or amusement their limbs would have stiffened into uselessness1 and their constitutions would have been unable to bear the call of any sudden emergency4 ,one of them has four residences in different parts of the same county1 and yet he will not keep a carriage1 but is a pedestrian terrible to his friends2 the other is at the head of a great business1 and gives an example of physical activity to his workpeople4 ,both have an absolute faith in habitual exercise2 and both affirm that if the habit were once broken they could never afterwards resume it4 ,we need this faith in exercise--this firm conviction of its necessity--the sort of conviction that makes a man go out in all weathers1 and leave the most urgent intellectual labor for the mere discipline and hardening of the body4 ,few students possess this faith in its purity4 ,it is hard to believe that we shall get any good from exercise proportionate to the sacrifice of time4 ,the incompatibility between the physical and the intellectual lives is often very marked if you look at small spaces of time only2 but if you consider broader spaces1 such as a lifetime1 then the incompatibility is not so marked1 and gives place to a manifest conciliation4 ,the brain is clearer in vigorous health than it can be in the gloom and misery of sickness2 and although health may last for a while without renewal from exercise1 so that if you are working under pressure for a month the time given to exercise is so much deducted from the result1 it is not so for the life's performance4 ,health sustained for many years is so useful to the realization of all considerable intellectual undertakings1 that the sacrifice to the bodily well-being is the best of all possible investments4 ,franklin's theory about concentrating his exercise for the economy of time was founded upon a mistake4 ,violent exertion for minutes is not equivalent to moderate exercise for hours4 ,the desire to concentrate good of various kinds into the smallest possible space is one of the commonest of human wishes1 but it is not encouraged by the broader economy of nature4 ,in the exercise of the mind every teacher is well aware that time is an essential factor4 ,it is necessary to live with a study for hundreds or thousands of hours before the mind can assimilate as much of the subject as it may need2 and so it is necessary to live in exercise during a thousand hours of every year to make sure of the physical benefits4 ,even the fresh air itself requires time to renovate our blood4 ,the fresh air cannot be concentrated2 and to breathe the prodigious quantities of it which are needed for perfect energy1 we must be out in it frequently and long4 ,the inhabitants of great cities have recourse to gymnastics as a substitute for the sports of the country4 ,these exercises have one advantage--they can be directed scientifically so as to strengthen the limbs that need development2 but no city gymnasium can offer the invigorating breezes of the mountain4 ,we require not only exercise but exposure--daily exposure to the health-giving inclemencies of the weather4 ,the postman who brings my letters walks eight thousand miles a year1 and enjoys the most perfect regularity of health4 ,there are operatives in factories who go through quite as much bodily exertion1 but they have not his fine condition4 ,he is as merry as a lark1 and announces himself every morning like a bearer of joyful tidings4 ,what the postman does from necessity an old gentleman did as regularly1 though more moderately1 for the preservation of his health and faculties4 ,he went out every day2 and as he never consulted the weather1 so he never had to consult the physicians4 ,nothing in the habits of ,wordsworth--that model of excellent habits--can be better as an example to men of letters than his love of pedestrian excursions4 ,wherever he happened to be1 he explored the whole neighborhood on foot1 looking into every nook and cranny of it2 and not merely the immediate neighborhood1 but extended tracts of country2 and in this way he met with much of his best material4 ,scott was both a pedestrian and an equestrian traveller1 having often1 as he tells us1 walked thirty miles or ridden a hundred in those rich and beautiful districts which afterwards proved to him such a mine of literary wealth4 ,goethe took a wild delight in all sorts of physical exercise--swimming in the ,ilm by moonlight1 skating with the merry little ,weimar court on the ,schwansee1 riding about the country on horseback1 and becoming at times quite outrageous in the rich exuberance of his energy4 ,alexander ,humboldt was delicate in his youth1 but the longing for great enterprises made him dread the hindrances of physical insufficiency1 so he accustomed his body to exercise and fatigue1 and prepared himself for those wonderful explorations which opened his great career4 ,here are intellectual lives which were forwarded in their special aims by habits of physical exercise2 and1 in an earlier age1 have we not also the example of the greatest intellect of a great epoch1 the astonishing ,leonardo da ,vinci1 who took such a delight in horsemanship that although1 as ,vasari tells us1 poverty visited him often1 he never could sell his horses or dismiss his grooms8 ,the physical and intellectual lives are not incompatible4 ,i may go farther1 and affirm that the physical activity of men eminent in literature has added abundance to their material and energy to their style2 that the activity of scientific men has led them to innumerable discoveries2 and that even the more sensitive and contemplative study of the fine arts has been carried to a higher perfection by artists who painted action in which they had had their part1 or natural beauty1 which they had travelled far to see4 ,even philosophy itself owes much to mere physical courage and endurance4 ,how much that is noblest in ancient thinking may be due to the hardy health of ,socrates6 ,,letter ,,vi4 ,,to ,,an ,,author ,,in ,,mortal ,,disease4 ,considering death as a certainty--,the wisdom learned from suffering--,employment of happier intervals--,the teaching of the diseased not to be rejected--,their double experience--,ignorance of ,nature's spoiled children--,benefit of disinterested thought--,reasons for pursuing intellectual labors to the last--,geoffroy ,saint-,hilaire4 ,when ,alexandre ,bixio lay on his death-bed1 his friend ,labrousse visited him1 and exclaimed on entering the room1 ,how well you are looking to-day6 ,to this1 ,bixio1 who was clearly aware of his condition1 answered in these words3--,voyons1 mon pauvre ,labrousse2 tu viens voir un homme qui n'a plus qu'un quart d'heure a vivre1 et tu veux lui faire croire qu'il a bonne mine2 allons1 une poigne de main1 cela vaut mieux pour un homme que tous ces petits mensonges-l4 ,i will vex you with none of these well-meant but wearisome little falsehoods4 ,we both of us know your state2 we both know that your malady1 though it may be alleviated1 can never be cured2 and that the fatal termination of it1 though delayed by all the artifices of science1 will certainly arrive at last4 ,the cheerful courage which enables you to look this certainty in the face has also enabled you to extract from years of suffering that profoundest wisdom which 7as one of the wisest of living ,englishmen has told us7 can be learned from suffering alone4 ,the admirable elasticity of your intellectual and moral nature has enabled you1 in the intervals of physical uneasiness or pain1 to cast aside every morbid thought1 to enter quite fully and heartily into the healthy life of others1 and to enjoy the magnificent spectacle of the universe with contented submission to its laws--those beneficent yet relentless laws which to you bring debility and death4 ,you have continued to write notwithstanding the progress of your malady2 and yet1 since it has so pitilessly held you1 there is no other change in the spirit of your compositions than the deepening of a graver beauty1 the addition of a sweeter seriousness4 ,not one sentence that you have written betrays either the injustice of the invalid1 or his irritability4 ,your mind is not clouded by any mist from the fever marshes1 but its sympathies are far more active than they were4 ,your pain has taught you a tender pity for all the pain that is outside of you1 and a patient gentleness which was wanting to your nature in its days of barbarian health4 ,surely it would be a lamentable error if mankind were to carry out the recommendation of certain ruthless philosophers1 and reject the help and teaching of the diseased4 ,without undervaluing the robust performance of healthy natures1 and without encouraging literature that is morbid1 that is fevered1 impatient1 and perverse1 we may still prize the noble teaching which is the testament of sufferers to the world4 ,the diseased have a peculiar and mysterious experience2 they have known the sensations of health1 and then1 in addition to this knowledge1 they have gained another knowledge which enables them to think more accurately even of health itself4 ,a life without suffering would be like a picture without shade4 ,the pets of ,nature1 who do not know what suffering is1 and cannot realize it1 have always a certain rawness1 like foolish landsmen who laugh at the terrors of the ocean1 because they have neither experience enough to know what those terrors are1 nor brains enough to imagine them4 ,you who are borne along1 slowly but irresistibly1 to that ,niagara which plunges into the gulf of death1--you who1 with perfect self-possession and heroic cheerfulness1 are counting the last miles of the voyage1--find leisure to study and think as the boat glides onwards silently to the inevitable end4 ,it is one of the happiest privileges of the high intellectual life that it can elevate us--at least in the intervals of relief from complete prostration or acute pain--to regions of disinterested thought1 where all personal anxieties are forgotten4 ,to feel that he is still able1 even in days of physical weakness and decline1 to add something to the world's inheritance of knowledge1 or to bequeath to it some new and noble thought in the pearl of complete expression1 is a profound satisfaction to the active mind that is lodged in a perishing body4 ,many diseases fortunately permit this activity to the last2 and ,i do not hesitate to affirm1 that the work done in the time of physical decline has in not a few instances been the most perfect and the most permanently valuable4 ,it is not accurately true that the mind and the body invariably fail together4 ,physicians who know how prevalent chronic diseases are1 and how many eminent men are physically inconvenienced by them1 know also that minds of great spiritual energy possess the wonderful faculty of indefinitely improving themselves whilst the body steadily deteriorates4 ,nor is there anything irrational in this persistent improvement of the mind1 even to the extremest limit of material decay2 for the mind of every intellectual human being is part and parcel of the great permanent mind of humanity2 and even if its influence soon ceases to be traceable--if the spoken words are forgotten--if the written volume is not reprinted or even quoted1 it has not worked in vain4 ,the intellectual light of ,europe in this century is not only due to great luminaries whom every one can name1 but to millions of thoughtful persons1 now utterly forgotten1 who in their time loved the light1 and guarded it1 and increased it1 and carried it into many lands1 and bequeathed it as a sacred trust4 ,he who labors only for his personal pleasure may well be discouraged by the shortness and uncertainty of life1 and cease from his selfish toil on the first approaches of disease2 but whoever has fully realized the grand continuity of intellectual tradition1 and taken his own place in it between the future and the past1 will work till he can work no more1 and then gaze hopefully on the world's great future1 like ,geoffroy ,saint-,hilaire1 when his blind eyes beheld the future of zoology4 ,,letter ,,vii4 ,,to ,a ,,young ,,man ,,of ,,brilliant ,,ability1 ,,who ,,had ,,just ,,taken ,,his ,,degree4 ,a domestic picture--,thoughts suggested by it--,importance of the senses in intellectual pursuits--,importance of hearing to ,madame de ,stael--,importance of seeing to ,mr4 ,buskin--,mr4 ,prescott1 the historian--,how blindness retarded his work--,value of all the five senses--,self-government indispensable to their perfection--,great value of longevity to the intellectual life4 ,it is always a great pleasure to me to pass an evening at your father's house2 but on the last occasion that pleasure was very much enhanced because you were once more with us4 ,i watched your mother's eyes as she sat in her place in the drawing-room4 ,they followed you almost without ceasing1 and there was the sweetest1 happiest expression on her dear face1 that betrayed her tender maternal love for you and her legitimate maternal pride4 ,your father was equally happy in his own way2 he was much more gay and talkative than ,i have seen him for two or three anxious years2 he told amusing stories2 he entered playfully into the jests of others2 he had pleasant projects for the future1 and spoke of them with facetious exaggeration4 ,i sat quietly in my corner1 slyly observing my old friends1 and amusing myself by discovering 7it did not need much perspicacity for that7 the hidden sources of the happiness that was so clearly visible4 ,they were gladdened by the first successes of your manhood2 by the evidence of your strength2 by the realization of hopes long cherished4 ,watching this charming picture with a perfect sympathy1 ,i began to have certain thoughts of my own which it is my present purpose to communicate to you without disguise4 ,i thought1 first1 how agreeable it was to be the spectator of so pretty a picture2 but then my eyes wandered to a painting that hung upon the walls1 in which also there were a mother and her son1 and this led me a long way4 ,the painting was a hundred years old2 but although the colors were not quite so fresh as when they left the palette of the artist1 the beautiful youth who stood radiant like a young ,apollo in the centre of the composition had not lost one of the great gifts with which his cunning human creator had endowed him4 ,the fire of his eye had not been quenched by time2 the bloom of his cheek still flushed with faint vermilion2 his lip was full and imperious2 his limbs athletic2 his bearing haughty and dauntless4 ,all life seemed spread before him like a beautiful rich estate of which every acre was his own4 ,how easily will he conquer fame6 how easily kindle passion4 ,who shall withstand this pink and perfection of aristocracy--this ideal of the age of fine gentlemen1 with all the gifts of nature helped by all the inventions of art8 ,then ,i thought farther3 ,that splendid young nobleman in the picture will look just as young as he does now when we shall be either superannuated or dead4 ,and ,i looked at you and your mother again and thought3 ,it is just five minutes since ,i saw these two living beings1 and in this little space of time they have both of them aged a little1 though no human observer has enough delicacy of perception to detect so inappreciable an alteration4 ,i went gradually on and on into the future1 trying to imagine the changes which would come over yourself more especially 7for it was you who were the centre of my reverie71 till at last ,i imagined pretty accurately what you might be at sixty2 but there it became necessary to stop1 because it was too difficult to conceive the processes of decay4 ,after this1 one thought grew upon me and became dominant4 ,i thought1 at present he has all the senses in their perfection1 and they serve him without a hitch4 ,he is an intelligence served by organs1 and the organs are all doing their duty as faithfully as a postman who brings letters4 ,when the postman becomes too infirm to do his work he will retire on his little pension1 and another will take his place and bring the letters just as regularly2 but when the human organs become infirm they cannot be taken out and replaced by new ones1 so that we must content ourselves to the end1 with their service1 such as it may be4 ,then ,i reflected how useful the senses are to the high intellectual life1 and how wise it is1 even for intellectual purposes1 to preserve them as long as possible in their perfection4 ,to be able to see and hear well--to feel healthy sensations--even to taste and smell properly1 are most important qualifications for the pursuit of literature1 and art1 and science4 ,if you read attentively the work of any truly illustrious poet1 you will find that the whole of the imagery which gives power and splendor to his verse is derived from nature through one or other of these ordinary channels4 ,some philosophers have gone much farther than this1 and have affirmed that the entire intellectual life is based ultimately upon remembered physical sensations2 that we have no mental conception that is really independent of sensuous experience2 and that the most abstract thought is only removed from sensation by successive processes of substitution1 ,i have not space to enter into so great and mysterious a subject as this2 but ,i desire to draw your attention to a truth very commonly overlooked by intellectual people1 which is the enormous importance of the organs of sense in the highest intellectual pursuits4 ,i will couple together two names which have owed their celebrity1 one chiefly to the use of her ears1 the other to the use of his eyes4 ,madame de ,stael obtained her literary material almost exclusively by means of conversation4 ,she directed1 systematically1 the talk of the learned and brilliant men amongst whom she lived to the subject which for the moment happened to occupy her thoughts4 ,her literary process 7which is known to us in detail through the revelations of her friends7 was purposely invented to catch everything that she heard1 as a net catches fish in a river4 ,first1 she threw down on paper a very brief rough draft of the intended literary project4 ,this she showed to few1 but from it she made a second state 7as an engraver would say71 which she exhibited to some of her trusted friends1 profiting by their hints and suggestions4 ,her secretary copied the corrected manuscript1 incorporating the new matter1 on paper with a very broad margin for farther additions4 ,during all the time that it took to carry her work through these successive states1 that ingenious woman made the best possible use of her ears1 which were her natural providers4 ,she made everybody talk who was likely to be of any use to her1 and then immediately added what she had caught on the wide margin reserved for that purpose4 ,she used her eyes so little that she might almost as well have been blind4 ,we have it on her own authority1 that were it not out of respect to custom1 she would not open her window to see the ,bay of ,naples for the first time1 whereas she would travel five hundred leagues to talk with a clever man whom she had never met4 ,now since ,madame de ,stael's genius fed itself exclusively through the faculty of hearing1 what an enormous difference it would have made to her if she had been deaf6 ,it is probable that the whole of her literary reputation was dependent on the condition of her ears4 ,even a very moderate degree of deafness 7just enough to make listening irksome7 might have kept her in perpetual obscurity4 ,the next instance ,i intend to give is that of a distinguished contemporary1 ,mr4 ,ruskin4 ,his peculiar position in literature is due to his being able to see as cultivated artists see4 ,everything that is best and most original in his writings is invariably either an account of what he has seen in his own independent inimitable way1 or else a criticism of the accurate or defective sight of others4 ,his method of study1 by drawing and taking written memoranda of what he has seen1 is entirely different from ,madame de ,stael's method1 but refers always1 as hers did1 to the testimony of the predominant sense4 ,every one whose attention has been attracted to the subject is aware that1 amongst people who are commonly supposed1 to see equally well1 and who are not suspected of any tendency to blindness1 the degrees of perfection in this sense vary to infinity4 ,suppose that ,mr4 ,ruskin 7to our great misfortune7 had been endowed with no better eyes than many persons who see fairly well in the ordinary sense1 his enjoyment and use of sight would have been so much diminished that he would have had little enthusiasm about seeing1 and yet that kind of enthusiasm was quite essential to his work4 ,the well-known instance of ,mr4 ,prescott1 the historian1 is no doubt a striking proof what may be accomplished by a man of remarkable intellectual ability without the help of sight1 or rather helped by the sight of others4 ,we have also heard of a blind traveller1 and even of a blind entomologist2 but in all cases of this kind they are executive difficulties to be overcome1 such that only the most resolute natures would ever dream of encountering them4 ,when the materials for the ,reign of ,ferdinand and ,isabella arrived in ,prescott's house from ,europe1 his remaining eye had just suffered from over-exertion to such a degree that he could not use it again for years4 ,i well remember1 he wrote in a letter to a friend1 the blank despair which ,i felt when my literary treasures arrived1 and ,i saw the mine of wealth lying around me which ,i was forbidden to explore4 ,and although1 by a most tedious process1 which would have worn out the patience of any other author1 ,mr4 ,prescott did at last arrive at the conclusion of his work1 it cost him ten years of labor--probably thrice as much time as would have been needed by an author of equal intellectual ability without any infirmity of sight4 ,although1 of the five senses which ,god has given us1 sight and hearing are the most necessary to the intellectual life1 it may easily be demonstrated that the lower ones are not without their intellectual uses4 ,perfect literature and art can only he produced by men who are perfect in all their natural faculties4 ,the great creative intellects have never been ascetics2 they have been rightly and healthily sensitive to every kind of pleasure4 ,the taste of fruits and wines1 the perfume of flowers are a part of the means by which the spirit of ,nature influences our most secret thoughts1 and conveys to us suggestions1 or carries us into states of feeling which have an enormous effect upon our thinking1 though the manner in which the effect is produced is one of the deepest mysteries of our mysterious being4 ,when the ,caliph ,vathek added five wings to the palace of ,alkoremmi1 on the hill of ,pied ,horses1 for the particular gratification of each of his five senses1 he only did on a uselessly large scale what every properly-endowed human being does1 when he can afford it1 on a small one4 ,you will not suspect me of preaching unlimited indulgence4 ,the very object of this letter is to recommend1 for intellectual purposes1 the careful preservation of the senses in the freshness of their perfection1 and this is altogether incompatible with every species of excess4 ,if you are to see clearly all your life1 you must not sacrifice eyesight by over-straining it2 and the same law of moderation is the condition of preserving every other faculty4 ,i want you to know the exquisite taste of common dry bread2 to enjoy the perfume of a larch wood at a distance2 to feel delight when a sea-wave dashes over you4 ,i want your eye to be so sensitive that it shall discern the faintest tones of a gray cloud1 and yet so strong that it shall bear to gaze on a white one in the dazzling glory of sunshine4 ,i would have your hearing sharp enough to detect the music of the spheres1 if it were but audible1 and yet your nervous system robust enough to endure the shock of the guns on an ironclad4 ,to have and keep these powers we need a firmness of self-government that is rare4 ,young men are careless of longevity2 but how precious are added years to the fulness of the intellectual life6 ,there are lives1 such as that of ,major ,pendennis1 which only diminish in value as they advance--when the man of fashion is no longer fashionable1 and the sportsman can no longer stride over the ploughed fields4 ,the old age of the ,major ,pendennises is assuredly not to be envied3 but how rich is the age of the ,hunboldts6 ,i compare the life of the intellectual to a long wedge of gold--the thin end of it begins at birth1 and the depth and value of it go on indefinitely increasing till at last comes ,death 7a personage for whom ,nathaniel ,hawthorne had a peculiar dislike1 for his unmannerly habit of interruption71 who stops the auriferous processes4 ,oh1 the mystery of the nameless ones who have died when the wedge was thin and looked so poor and light6 ,oh1 the happiness of the fortunate old men whose thoughts went deeper and deeper like a wall that runs out into the sea6 ,,note4--,one of the most painful cases of interruption caused by death is that of ,cuvier4 ,his paralysis came upon him whilst he was still in full activity1 and death prevented him from arranging a great accumulation of scientific material4 ,he said to ,m4 ,pasquier1 ,i had great things still to do2 all was ready in my head4 ,after thirty years of labor and research1 there remained but to write1 and now the hands fail1 and carry with them the head4 ,but the most lamentable instances of this kind of interruption are1 from the nature of things1 unknown to us4 ,even the friends of the deceased cannot estimate the extent of the loss1 for a man's immediate neighbors are generally the very last persons to become aware of the nature of his powers or the value of his acquirements4 ,,part ,,ii4 ,,the ,,moral ,,basis4 ,,letter ,i4 ,,to ,a ,,moralist ,,who ,,had ,,said ,,that ,,there ,,was ,a ,,want ,,of ,,moral ,,fibre ,,in ,,the ,,intellectual1 ,,especially ,,in ,,poets ,,and ,,artists4 ,the love of intellectual pleasure--,the seeking for a stimulus--,intoxication of poetry and oratory--,other mental intoxications--,the ,bishop of ,exeter on drudgery--,the labor of composition in poetry--,wordsworth's dread of it--,moore--,his trouble with ,lalla ,rookh--,his painstaking in preparation--,necessity of patient industry in other arts--,john ,lewis1 ,meissonier1 ,mulready--,drudgery in struggling against technical difficulties--,water-color painting1 etching1 oil-painting1 fresco1 line-engraving--,labor undergone for mere discipline--,moral strength of students--,giordano ,bruno4 ,you told me the other day that you believed the inducement to what ,i called intellectual living to be merely the love of pleasure--pleasure of a higher kind1 no doubt1 than that which we derive from wine1 yet fairly comparable to it4 ,you went on to say that you could not1 from the moral point of view1 discern any appreciable difference between intoxicating oneself by means of literature or art and getting tipsy on port wine or brandy2 that the reading of poetry1 most especially was clearly self-intoxication--a service of ,venus and ,bacchus1 in which the suggestions of artfully-ordered words were used as substitutes for the harem and the wine-flask4 ,completing the expression of this idea1 you said that the excitement produced by oratory was exactly of the same nature as the excitement produced by gin1 so that ,mr4 ,bright and ,m4 ,gambetta--nay1 even a gentleman so respectable as the late ,lord ,derby--belonged strictly to the same profession as the publicans1 being dealers in stimulants1 and no more4 ,the habitual student was1 in your view1 nothing better than the helpless victim of unresisted appetite1 to whom intellectual intoxication1 having been at first a pleasure1 had finally become a necessity4 ,you added that any rational person who found himself sinking into such a deplorable condition as this1 would have recourse to some severe discipline as a preservative--a discipline requiring close attention to common things1 and rigorously excluding every variety of thought which could possibly be considered intellectual4 ,it is strictly true that the three intellectual pursuits--literature1 science1 and the fine arts--are all of them strong stimulants1 and that men are attracted to them by the stimulus they give4 ,but these occupations are morally much nearer to the common level of other occupations than you suppose4 ,there is no doubt a certain intoxication in poetry and painting2 but ,i have seen a tradesman find a fully equivalent intoxication in an addition of figures showing a delightful balance at his banker's4 ,i have seen a young poet intoxicated with the love of poetry2 but ,i have also seen a young mechanical genius on whom the sight of a locomotive acted exactly like a bottle of champagne4 ,everything that is capable of exciting or moving man1 everything that fires him with enthusiasm1 everything that sustains his energies above the dead level of merely animal existence1 may be compared1 and not very untruly1 to the action of generous wine4 ,the two most powerful mental stimulants--since they overcome even the fear of death--are unquestionably religion and patriotism3 ardent states of feeling both of them when they are genuine2 yet this ardor has a great utility4 ,it enables men to bear much1 to perform much which would be beyond their natural force if it were not sustained by powerful mental stimulants4 ,and so it is in the intellectual life4 ,it is because its labors are so severe that its pleasures are so glorious4 ,the ,creator of intellectual man set him the most arduous tasks--tasks that required the utmost possible patience1 courage1 self-discipline1 and which at the same time were for the most part1 from their very nature1 likely to receive only the most meagre and precarious pecuniary reward4 ,therefore1 in order that so poor and weak a creature might execute its gigantic works with the energy necessary to their permanence1 the labor itself was made intensely attractive and interesting to the few who were fitted for it by their constitution4 ,since their courage could not be maintained by any of the common motives which carry men through ordinary drudgery--since neither wealth nor worldly position was in their prospects1 the drudgery they had to go through was to be rewarded by the triumphs of scientific discovery1 by the felicities of artistic expression4 ,a divine drunkenness was given to them for their encouragement1 surpassing the gift of the grape4 ,but now that ,i have acknowledged1 not ungratefully1 the necessity of that noble excitement which is the life of life1 it is time for me to add that1 in the daily labor of all intellectual workers1 much has to be done which requires a robustness of the moral constitution beyond what you appear to be aware of4 ,it is not long since the present ,bishop of ,exeter truly affirmed1 in an address to a body of students1 that if there were not weariness in work1 that work was not so thorough-going as it ought to be4 ,of all work1 the ,bishop said1 that produces results1 nine-tenths must be drudgery4 ,there is no work1 from the highest to the lowest1 which can be done well by any man who is unwilling to make that sacrifice4 ,part of the very nobility of the devotion of the true workman to his work consists in the fact that a man is not daunted by finding that drudgery must be done2 and no man can really succeed in any walk of life without a good deal of what in ordinary ,english is called pluck4 ,that is the condition of all work whatever1 and it is the condition of all success4 ,and there is nothing which so truly repays itself as this very perseverance against weariness4 ,you understand1 no doubt1 that there is drudgery in the work of a lawyer or an accountant1 but you imagine that there is no drudgery in that of an artist1 or author1 or man of science4 ,in these cases you fancy that there is nothing but a pleasant intoxication1 like the puffing of tobacco or the sipping of claret after dinner4 ,the ,bishop sees more accurately4 ,he knows that of all work that produces results nine-tenths must be drudgery4 ,he makes no exceptions in favor of the arts and sciences2 if he had made any such exceptions1 they would have proved the absence of culture in himself4 ,real work of all descriptions1 even including the composition of poetry 7the most intoxicating of all human pursuits71 contains drudgery in so large a proportion that considerable moral courage is necessary to carry it to a successful issue4 ,some of the most popular writers of verse have dreaded the labor of composition4 ,wordsworth shrank from it much more sensitively than he did from his prosaic labors as a distributor of stamps4 ,he had that horreur de la plume which is a frequent malady amongst literary men4 ,but we feel1 in reading ,wordsworth1 that composition was a serious toil to him--the drudgery is often visible4 ,let me take1 then1 the case of a writer of verse distinguished especially for fluency and ease--the lightest1 gayest1 apparently most thoughtless of modern minstrels--the author of ,the ,irish ,melodies and ,lalla ,rookh4 ,moore said--,i quote from memory and may not give the precise words1 but they were to this effect--that although the first shadowy imagining of a new poem was a delicious fool's paradise1 the labor of actual composition was something altogether different4 ,he did not1 ,i believe1 exactly use the word drudgery1 but his expression implied that there was painful drudgery in the work4 ,when he began to write ,lalla ,rookh the task was anything but easy to him4 ,he said that he was at all times a far more slow and painstaking workman than would ever be guessed from the result4 ,for a long time after the conclusion of the agreement with ,messrs4 ,longman1 though generally at work with a view to this task1 he made but very little real progress in it4 ,after many unsatisfactory attempts1 finding that his subjects were so slow in kindling his own sympathies1 he began to despair of their ever touching the hearts of others4 ,had this series of disheartening experiments been carried on much further1 ,i must have thrown aside the work in despair4 ,he took the greatest pains in long and laboriously preparing himself by reading4 ,to form a storehouse1 as it were1 of illustrations purely ,oriental1 and so familiarize myself with its various treasures that1 quick as ,fancy required the aid of fact in her spiritings1 the memory was ready to furnish materials for the spell-work2 such was1 for a long while1 the sole object of my studies4 ,after quoting some opinions favorable to the truth of his ,oriental coloring1 he says3 ,whatever of vanity there may be in citing such tributes1 they show1 at least1 of what great value1 even in poetry1 is that prosaic quality1 industry1 since it was in a slow and laborious collection of small facts that the first foundations of this fanciful romance were laid4 ,other fine arts make equally large claims upon the industry of their professors4 ,we see the charming result1 which looks as if it were nothing but pleasure--the mere sensuous gratification of an appetite for melody or color2 but no one ever eminently succeeded in music or painting without patient submission to a discipline far from attractive or entertaining4 ,an idea was very prevalent amongst the upper classes in ,england1 between twenty and thirty years ago1 that art was not a serious pursuit1 and that ,frenchmen were too frivolous to apply themselves seriously to anything4 ,when1 however1 the different schools of art in ,europe came to be exhibited together1 the truth began to dawn upon people's minds that the ,french and ,belgian schools of painting had a certain superiority over the rest--a superiority of quite a peculiar sort2 and when the critics applied themselves to discover the hidden causes of this generally perceived superiority1 they found out that it was due in great measure to the patient drudgery submitted to by those foreign artists in their youth4 ,english painters who have attained distinction have gone through a like drudgery1 if not in the public atelier at least in secrecy and solitude4 ,mr4 ,john ,lewis1 in reply to an application for a drawing to be reproduced by the autotype process1 and published in the ,portfolio1 said that his sketches and studies were all in color1 but if we liked to examine them we were welcome to select anything that might be successfully photographed4 ,not being in ,london at the time1 ,i charged an experienced friend to go and see if there were anything that would answer our purpose4 ,soon afterward he wrote3 ,i have just been to see ,john ,lewis1 and have come away astounded4 ,he had seen the vast foundations of private industry on which the artist's public work had been erected1--innumerable studies in color1 wrought with the most perfect care and finish1 and all for self-education merely1 not for any direct reward in fame4 ,we have all admired the extraordinary power of representation in the little pictures of ,meissonier2 that power was acquired by painting studies life-size for self-instruction1 and the artist has sustained his knowledge by persistence in that practice4 ,mulready1 between the conception of a new picture and the execution of it1 used to give himself a special training for the intended work by painting a study in color of every separate thing that was to form part of the composition4 ,it is useless to go on multiplying these examples1 since all great artists1 without exception1 have been distinguished for their firm faith in steady well-directed labor4 ,this faith was so strong in ,reynolds that it limited his reasoning powers1 and prevented him from assigning their due importance to the inborn natural gifts4 ,not only in their preparations for work1 but even in the work itself1 do artists undergo drudgery4 ,it is the peculiarity of their work that1 more than any other human work1 it displays whatever there may be in it of pleasure and felicity1 putting the drudgery as much out of sight as possible2 but all who know the secrets of the studio are aware of the ceaseless struggles against technical difficulty which are the price of the charms that pleasantly deceive us4 ,the amateur tries to paint in water-color1 and finds that the gradation of his sky will not come right2 instead of being a sound gradation like that of the heavenly blue1 it is all in spots and patches4 ,then he goes to some clever artist who seems to get the right thing with enviable ease4 ,is my paper good8 have my colors been properly ground8 ,the materials are sound enough1 but the artist confesses one of the discouraging little secrets of his craft4 ,the fact is1 he says1 those spots that you complain of happen to all of us1 and very troublesome they are1 especially in dark tints2 the only way is to remove them as patiently as we can1 and it sometimes takes several days4 ,if one or two of them remain in spite of us1 we turn them into birds4 ,in etching1 the most famous practitioners get into messes with the treacherous chemistry of their acids1 and need an invincible patience4 ,even ,mryon was always very anxious when the time came for confiding his work to what he called the traitresse liqueur2 and whenever ,i give a commission to an etcher1 ,i am always expecting some such despatch as the following3 ,plate utterly ruined in the biting4 ,very sorry4 ,will begin another immediately4 ,we know what a dreadful series of mishaps attended our fresco-painters at ,westminster1 and now even the promising water-glass process1 in which ,maclise trusted1 shows the bloom of premature decay4 ,the safest and best known of modern processes1 simple oil-painting has its own dangers also4 ,the colors sink and alter2 they lose their relative values2 they lose their pearly purity1 their glowing transparence--they turn to buff and black4 ,the fine arts bristle all over with technical difficulties1 and are1 ,i will not say the best school of patience in the world1 for many other pursuits are also very good schools of patience2 but ,i will say1 without much fear of contradiction from anybody acquainted with the subject1 that the fine arts offer drudgery enough1 and disappointment enough1 to be a training both in patience and in humility4 ,in the labor of the line-engraver both these qualities are developed to the pitch of perfect heroism4 ,he sits down to a great surface of steel or copper1 and day by day1 week after week1 month after month1 ploughs slowly his marvellous lines4 ,sometimes the picture before him is an agreeable companion2 he is in sympathy with the painter2 he enjoys every touch that he has to translate4 ,but sometimes1 on the contrary1 he hates the picture1 and engraves it as a professional duty4 ,i happened to call upon a distinguished ,english engraver--a man of the greatest taste and knowledge1 a refined and cultivated critic--and ,i found him seated at work before a thing which had nothing to do with fine art--a medley of ugly portraits of temperance celebrities on a platform4 ,ah6 he said to me sadly1 you see the dark side of our profession2 fancy sitting down to a desk all day long for two years together with that thing to occupy your thoughts6 ,how much moral fibre was needed to carry to a successful issue so repulsive a task as that6 ,you may answer that a stone-breaker on the roadside surpasses my line-engraver both in patience and in humility2 but whereas the sensitiveness of the stone-breaker has been deadened by his mode of life1 the sensitiveness of the engraver has been continually fostered and increased4 ,an ugly picture was torture to his cultivated eye1 and he had to bear the torture all day long1 like the pain of an irritating disease4 ,still even the line-engraver has secret sources of entertainment to relieve the mortal tedium of his task-work4 ,the picture may be hideous1 but the engraver has hidden consolations in the exercise of his wonderful art4 ,he can at least entertain himself with feats of interpretative skill1 with the gentle treacheries of improving here and there upon the hatefulness of the intolerable original4 ,he may congratulate himself in the evening1 that one more frightful hat or coat has been got rid of2 that the tiresome task has been reduced by a space measurable in eights of an inch4 ,the heaviest work which shows progress is not without one element of cheerfulness4 ,there is a great deal of intellectual labor1 undergone simply for discipline1 which shows no present result that is appreciable1 and which therefore requires1 in addition to patience and humility1 one of the noblest of the moral virtues1 faith4 ,of all the toils in which men engage1 none are nobler in their origin or their aim than those by which they endeavor to become more wise4 ,pray observe that whenever the desire for greater wisdom is earnest enough to sustain men in these high endeavors1 there must be both humility and faith--the humility which acknowledges present insufficiency1 the faith that relies upon the mysterious laws which govern our intellectual being4 ,be sure that there has been great moral strength in all who have come to intellectual greatness4 ,during some brief moments of insight the mist has rolled away and they have beheld1 like a celestial city1 the home of their highest aspirations2 but the cloud has gathered round them again1 and still in the gloom they have gone steadily forwards1 stumbling often1 yet maintaining their unconquerable resolution4 ,it is to this sublime persistence of the intellectual in other ages that the world owes the treasures which they won2 it is by a like persistence that we may hope to hand them down1 augmented1 to the future4 ,their intellectual purposes did not weaken their moral nature1 but exercised and exalted it4 ,all that was best and highest in the imperfect moral nature of ,giordano ,bruno had its source in that noble passion for ,philosophy1 which made him declare that for her sake it was easy to endure labor and pain and exile1 since he had found in brevi labore diuturnam requiem1 in levi dolore immensum gaudium1 in angusto exilio patriam amplissimam4 ,,letter ,,ii4 ,,to ,,an ,,undisciplined ,,writer4 ,early indocility of great workers--,external discipline only a substitute for inward discipline--,necessity for inward discipline--,origin of the idea of discipline--,authors peculiarly liable to overlook its uses--,good examples--,sir ,arthur ,helps--,sainte-,beuve--,the central authority in the mind--,locke's opinion--,even the creative faculty may be commanded--,charles ,baudelaire--,discipline in common trades and professions--,lawyers and surgeons--,haller--,mental refusals not to be altogether disregarded--,the idea of discipline the moral basis of the intellectual life--,alexander ,humboldt4 ,sir ,arthur ,helps1 in that wise book of his ,thoughts upon ,government1 says that much of the best and greatest work in the world has been done by those who were anything but docile in their youth4 ,he believes that this bold statement applies not only to the greatest men in ,science1 ,literature1 and ,art1 but also to the greatest men in official life1 in diplomacy1 and in the general business of the world4 ,many of us who were remarkable for our indocility in boyhood1 and remarkable for nothing else1 have found much consolation in this passage4 ,it is most agreeable to be told1 by a writer very eminent both for wisdom and for culture1 that our untowardness was a hopeful sign4 ,another popular modern writer has also encouraged us by giving a long list of dunces who have become illustrious4 ,yet1 however flattering it may be to find ourselves in such excellent company1 at least so far as the earlier half of life may be concerned1 we cannot quite forget the very numerous instances of distinguished persons who began by submitting to the discipline of school and college1 and gained honors and reputation there1 before encountering the competition of the world4 ,the external discipline applied by schoolmasters is a substitute for that inward discipline which we all so greatly need1 and which is absolutely indispensable to culture4 ,whether a boy happens to be a dunce at school or a youth of brilliant promise1 his future intellectual career will depend very much on his moral force4 ,the distinguished men who derived so little benefit from early discipline have invariably subjected themselves to a discipline of another kind which prepared them for the labor of their manhood4 ,it may be a pure assumption to say this1 but the assumption is confirmed by every instance that is known to me4 ,many eminent men have undergone the discipline of business1 many like ,franklin have been self-disciplined1 but ,i have never heard of a person who had risen to intellectual eminence without voluntary submission to an intellectual discipline of some kind4 ,there are1 no doubt1 great pleasures attached to the intellectual life1 and quite peculiar to it2 but these pleasures are the support of discipline and not its negation4 ,they give us the cheerfulness necessary for our work1 but they do not excuse us from the work4 ,they are like the cup of coffee served to a soldier on duty1 not like the opium which incapacitates for everything but dreaming4 ,i have been led into these observations by a perusal of the new book which you sent me4 ,it has many qualities which in a young writer are full of promise4 ,it is earnest1 and lively1 and exuberant1 but at the same time it is undisciplined4 ,now ,i believe it may be affirmed1 that although there has been much literature in former ages which was both vigorous and undisciplined1 still when an age presents1 as ours does1 living examples of perfect intellectual discipline1 whoever falls below them in this respect contents himself with the very kind of inferiority which of all inferiorities is the easiest to avoid4 ,you cannot1 by an effort of the will1 hope to rival the brilliance of a genius1 but you may quite reasonably expect to obtain as complete a control over your own faculties and your own work as any other highly-cultivated person4 ,the origin of discipline is the desire to do not merely our best with the degree of power and knowledge which at the time we do actually happen to possess1 but with that which we might possess if we submitted to the necessary training4 ,the powers given to us by ,nature are little more than a power to become1 and this becoming is always conditional on some sort of exercise--what sort we have to discover for ourselves4 ,no class of persons are so liable to overlook the uses of discipline as authors are4 ,anybody can write a book1 though few can write that which deserves the name of literature4 ,there are great technical differences between literature and book-making1 but few can clearly explain these differences1 or detect1 in their own case1 the absence of the necessary qualities4 ,in painting1 the most perfect finish is recognized at a glance1 but the mind only can perceive it in the book4 ,it was an odd notion of the authorities to exhibit literature in the international exhibitions2 but if they could have made people see the difference between sound and unsound workmanship in the literary craft1 they would have rendered a great service to the higher intellectual discipline4 ,sir ,arthur ,helps might have served as an example to ,english writers1 because he has certain qualities in which we are grievously deficient4 ,he can say a thing in the words that are most fit and necessary1 and then leave it4 ,sainte-,beuve would have been another admirable example of self-discipline1 especially to ,frenchmen1 who would do well to imitate him in his horror of the peu prs4 ,he never began to write about anything until he had cleared the ground well before him4 ,he never spoke about any character or doctrine that he had not bottomed 7to use ,locke's word7 as far as he was able4 ,he had an extraordinary aptitude for collecting exactly the sort of material that he needed1 for arranging and classifying material1 for perceiving its mutual relations4 ,very few ,frenchmen have had ,sainte-,beuve's intense repugnance to insufficiency of information and inaccuracy of language4 ,few indeed are the ,french journalists of whom it might be said1 as it may be truly said of ,sainte-,beuve1 that he never wrote even an article for a newspaper without having subjected his mind to a special training for that particular article4 ,the preparations for one of his ,lundis were the serious occupation of several laborious days2 and before beginning the actual composition1 his mind had been disciplined into a state of the most complete readiness1 like the fingers of a musician who has been practising a piece before he executes it4 ,the object of intellectual discipline is the establishment of a strong central authority in the mind by which all its powers are regulated and directed as the military forces of a nation are directed by the strategist who arranges the operations of a war4 ,the presence of this strong central authority is made manifest in the unity and proportion of the results2 when this authority is absent 7it is frequently entirely absent from the minds of undisciplined persons1 especially of the female sex71 you have a chaos of complete confusion2 when the authority without being absent is not strong enough to regulate the lively activity of the intellectual forces1 you have too much energy in one direction1 too little in another1 a brigade where a regiment could have done the work1 and light artillery where you want guns of the heaviest calibre4 ,to establish this central authority it is only necessary1 in any vigorous and sound mind1 to exercise it4 ,without such a central power there is neither liberty of action nor security of possession4 ,the mind1 says ,locke1 should always be free and ready to turn itself to the variety of objects that occur1 and allow them as much consideration as shall1 for that time1 be thought fit4 ,to be engrossed so by one subject as not to be prevailed on to leave it for another that we judge fitter for our contemplation1 is to make it of no use to us4 ,did this state of mind always remain so1 every one would1 without scruple1 give it the name of perfect madness2 and whilst it does last1 at whatever intervals it returns1 such a rotation of thoughts about the same object no more carries us forward toward the attainment of knowledge1 than getting upon a mill-horse whilst he jogs on his circular track1 would carry a man on a journey4 ,writers of imaginative literature have found in practice that even the creative faculty might be commanded4 ,charles ,baudelaire1 who had the poetical organization with all its worst inconveniencies1 said nevertheless that inspiration is decidedly the sister of daily labor4 ,these two contraries do not exclude each other more than all the other contraries which constitute nature4 ,inspiration obeys like hunger1 like digestion1 like sleep4 ,there is1 no doubt1 in the mind a sort of celestial mechanism1 of which we need not be ashamed1 but we ought to make the best use of it4 ,if we will only live in a resolute contemplation of next day's work1 the daily labor will serve inspiration4 ,in cases where discipline is felt to be very difficult1 it is generally at the same time felt to be very desirable4 ,george ,sand complains that although to overcome the indiscipline of her brain1 she had imposed upon herself a regular way of living1 and a daily labor1 still twenty times out of thirty she catches herself reading or dreaming1 or writing something entirely apart from the work in hand4 ,she adds that without this frequent intellectual flnerie1 she would have acquired information which has been her perpetual but unrealized desire4 ,it is the triumph of discipline to overcome both small and great repugnances4 ,we bring ourselves1 by its help1 to face petty details that are wearisome1 and heavy tasks that are almost appalling4 ,nothing shows the power of discipline more than the application of the mind in the common trades and professions to subjects which have hardly any interest in themselves4 ,lawyers are especially admirable for this4 ,they acquire the faculty of resolutely applying their minds to the dryest documents1 with tenacity enough to end in the perfect mastery of their contents2 a feat which is utterly beyond the capacity of any undisciplined intellect1 however gifted by ,nature4 ,in the case of lawyers there are frequent intellectual repugnances to be overcome2 but surgeons and other men of science have to vanquish a class of repugnances even less within the power of the will--the instinctive physical repugnances4 ,these are often so strong as to seem apparently insurmountable1 but they yield to persevering discipline4 ,although ,haller surpassed his contemporaries in anatomy1 and published several important anatomical works1 he was troubled at the outset with a horror of dissection beyond what is usual with the inexperienced1 and it was only by firm self-discipline that he became an anatomist at all4 ,there is1 however1 one reserve to be made about discipline1 which is this3 ,we ought not to disregard altogether the mind's preferences and refusals1 because in most cases they are the indication of our natural powers4 ,they are not so always2 many have felt attracted to pursuits for which they had no capacity 7this happens continually in literature and the fine arts71 whilst others have greatly distinguished themselves in careers which were not of their own choosing1 and for which they felt no vocation in their youth4 ,still there exists a certain relation between preference and capacity1 which may often safely be relied upon when there are not extrinsic circumstances to attract men or repel them4 ,discipline becomes an evil1 and a very serious evil1 causing immense losses of special talents to the community1 when it overrides the personal preferences entirely4 ,we are less in danger of this evil1 however1 from the discipline which we impose upon ourselves than from that which is imposed upon us by the opinion of the society in which we live4 ,the intellectual life has this remarkable peculiarity as to discipline1 that whilst very severe discipline is indispensable to it1 that which it really needs is the obedience to an inward law1 an obedience which is not only compatible with revolt against other people's notions of what the intellectual man ought to think and do1 but which often directly leads to such revolt as its own inevitable result4 ,in the attempt to subject ourselves to the inward law1 we may encounter a class of mental refusals which indicate no congenital incapacity1 but prove that the mind has been incapacitated by its acquired habits and its ordinary occupations4 ,i think that it is particularly important to pay attention to this class of mental refusals1 and to give them the fullest consideration4 ,suppose the case of a man who has a fine natural capacity for painting1 but whose time has been taken up by some profession which has formed in him mental habits entirely different from the mental habits of an artist4 ,the inborn capacity for art might whisper to this man1 ,what if you were to abandon your profession and turn painter8 ,but to this suggestion of the inborn capacity the acquired unfitness would1 in a man of sense1 most probably reply1 ,no2 painting is an art bristling all over with the most alarming technical difficulties1 which ,i am too lazy to overcome2 let younger men attack them if they like4 ,here is a mental refusal of a kind which the severest self-disciplinarian ought to listen to4 ,this is ,nature's way of keeping us to our specialities2 she protects us by means of what superficial moralists condemn as one of the minor vices--the disinclination to trouble ourselves without necessity1 when the work involves the acquisition of new habits4 ,the moral basis of the intellectual life appears to be the idea of discipline2 but the discipline is of a very peculiar kind1 and varies with every individual4 ,people of original power have to discover the original discipline that they need4 ,they pass their lives in thoughtfully altering this private rule of conduct as their needs alter1 as the legislature of a progressive ,state makes unceasing alterations in its laws4 ,when we look back upon the years that are gone1 this is our bitterest regret1 that whilst the precious time1 the irrecoverable1 was passing by so rapidly1 we were intellectually too undisciplined to make the best personal use of all the opportunities that it brought4 ,those men may be truly esteemed happy and fortunate who can say to themselves in the evening of their days--,i had so prepared myself for every successive enterprise1 that when the time came for it to be carried into execution my training ensured success4 ,i had thought of some examples1 and there are several great men who have left us noble examples of self-discipline2 but1 in the range and completeness of that discipline1 in the foresight to discern what would be wanted1 in the humility to perceive that it was wanting1 in the resolution that it should not be wanting when the time came that such knowledge or faculty should be called for1 one colossal figure so far excels all others that ,i cannot write down their names with that of ,alexander ,humboldt4 ,the world sees the intellectual greatness of such a man1 but does not see the substantial moral basis on which the towering structure rose4 ,when ,i think of his noble dissatisfaction with what he knew2 his ceaseless eagerness to know more1 and know it better2 of the rare combination of teachableness that despised no help 7for he accepted without jealousy the aid of everybody who could assist him71 with self-reliance that kept him always calm and observant in the midst of personal danger1 ,i know not which is the more magnificent spectacle1 the splendor of intellectual light1 or the beauty and solidity of the moral constitution that sustained it4 ,,letter ,,iii4 ,,to ,a ,,friend ,,who ,,suggested ,,the ,,speculation ,,which ,,of ,,the ,,moral ,,virtues ,,was ,,most ,,essential ,,to ,,the ,,intellectual ,,life4 ,the most essential virtue is disinterestedness--,the other virtues possessed by the opponents of intellectual liberty--,the ,ultramontane party--,difficulty of thinking disinterestedly even about the affairs of another nation--,english newspapers do not write disinterestedly about foreign affairs--,difficulty of disinterestedness in recent history--,poets and their readers feel it--,fine subjects for poetry in recent events not yet available--,even history of past times rarely disinterested--,advantages of the study of the dead languages in this respect--,physicians do not trust their own judgment about their personal health--,the virtue consists in endeavoring to be disinterested4 ,i think there cannot be a doubt that the most essential virtue is disinterestedness4 ,let me tell you1 after this decided answer1 what are the considerations which have led me to it4 ,i began by taking the other important virtues one by one--industry1 perseverance1 courage1 discipline1 humility1 and the rest2 and then asked myself whether any class of persons possessed and cultivated these virtues who were nevertheless opposed to intellectual liberty4 ,the answer came immediately1 that there have in every age been men deservedly respected for these virtues who did all in their power to repress the free action of the intellect4 ,what is called the ,ultramontane party in the present day includes great numbers of talented adherents who are most industrious1 most persevering1 who willingly submit to the severest discipline--who are learned1 self-denying1 and humble enough to accept the most obscure and ill-requited duties4 ,some of these men possess nine-tenths of the qualifications that are necessary to the highest intellectual life--they have brilliant gifts of nature2 they are well-educated2 they take a delight in the exercise of noble faculties1 and yet instead of employing their time and talents to help the intellectual advancement of mankind1 they do all in their power to retard it4 ,they have many most respectable virtues1 but one is wanting4 ,they have industry1 perseverance1 discipline1 but they have not disinterestedness4 ,i do not mean disinterestedness in its ordinary sense as the absence of selfish care about money4 ,the ,church of ,rome has thousands of devoted servants who are content to labor in her cause for stipends so miserable that it is clear they have no selfish aim2 whilst they abandon all those possibilities of fortune which exist for every active and enterprising layman4 ,but their thinking can never be disinterested so long as their ruling motive is devotion to the interests of their ,church4 ,some of them are personally known to me1 and we have discussed together many of the greatest questions which agitate the continental nations at the present time4 ,they have plenty of intellectual acumen2 but whenever the discussion touches1 however remotely1 the ecclesiastical interests that are dear to them1 they cease to be observers--they become passionate advocates4 ,it is this habit of advocacy which debars them from all elevated speculation about the future of the human race1 and which so often induces them to take a side with incapable and retrograde governments1 too willingly overlooking their deficiencies in the expectation of services to the cause4 ,their predecessors have impeded1 as far as they were able1 the early growth of science--not for intellectual reasons1 but because they instinctively felt that there was something in the scientific spirit not favorable to those interests which they placed far above the knowledge of mere matter4 ,i have selected the ,ultramontane party in the ,church of ,rome as the most prominent example of a party eminent for many intellectual virtues1 and yet opposed to the intellectual life from its own want of disinterestedness4 ,but the same defect exists1 to some degree1 in every partisan--exists in you and me so far as we are partisans4 ,let us suppose1 for example1 that we desired to find out the truth about a question much agitated in a neighboring country at the present time--the question whether it would be better for that country to attempt the restoration of its ancient ,monarchy or to try to consolidate a ,republican form of government4 ,how difficult it is to think out such a problem disinterestedly1 and yet how necessary to the justice of our conclusions that we should think disinterestedly if we pretend to think at all6 ,it is true that we have one circumstance in our favor--we are not ,french subjects1 and this is much4 ,still we are not disinterested1 since we know that the settlement of a great political problem such as this1 even though on foreign soil1 cannot fail to have a powerful influence on opinion in our own country1 and consequently upon the institutions of our native land4 ,we are spectators only1 it is true2 but we are far from being disinterested spectators4 ,and if you desire to measure the exact degree to which we are interested in the result1 you need only look at the newspapers4 ,the ,english newspapers always treat ,french affairs from the standpoint of their own party4 ,the ,conservative journalist in ,england is a ,monarchist in ,france1 and has no hopes for the ,republic2 the ,liberal journalist in ,england believes that the ,french dynasties are used up1 and sees no chance of tranquillity outside of republican institutions4 ,in both cases there is an impediment to the intellectual appreciation of the problem4 ,this difficulty is so strongly felt by those who write and read the sort of literature which aspires to permanence1 and which1 therefore1 ought to have a substantial intellectual basis1 that either our distinguished poets choose their subjects in actions long past and half-forgotten1 or else1 when tempted by present excitement1 they produce work which is artistically far inferior to their best4 ,our own generation has witnessed three remarkable events which are poetical in the highest degree4 ,the conquest of the ,two ,sicilies by ,garibaldi is a most perfect subject for a heroic poem2 the events which led to the execution of the ,emperor ,maximilian and deprived his ,empress of reason1 would1 in the hands of a great dramatist1 afford the finest possible material for a tragedy2 the invasion of ,france by the ,germans1 the overthrow of ,napoleon ,,iii41 the siege of ,paris1 are an epic ready to hand that only awaits its ,homer2 yet1 with the exception of ,victor ,hugo1 who is far gone in intellectual decadence1 no great poet has sung of these things yet4 ,the subjects are as good as can be1 but too near4 ,neither poet nor reader is disinterested enough for the intellectual enjoyment of these subjects3 the poet would not see his way clearly1 the reader would not follow unreservedly4 ,it may be added1 however1 in this connection1 that even past history is hardly ever written disinterestedly4 ,historians write with one eye on the past and the other on the pre-occupations of the present4 ,so far as they do this they fall short of the intellectual standard4 ,an ideally perfect history would tell the pure truth1 and all the truth1 so far as it was ascertainable4 ,artists are seldom good critics of art1 because their own practice biasses them1 and they are not disinterested4 ,the few artists who have written soundly about art have succeeded in the difficult task of detaching saying from doing2 they have1 in fact1 become two distinct persons1 each oblivious of the other4 ,the strongest of all the reasons in favor of the study of the dead languages and the literatures preserved in them1 has always appeared to me to consist in the more perfect disinterestedness with which we moderns can approach them4 ,the men and events are separated from us by so wide an interval1 not only of time and locality1 but especially of modes of thought1 that our passions are not often enlisted1 and the intellect is sufficiently free4 ,it may be noted that medical men1 who are a scientific class1 and therefore more than commonly aware of the great importance of disinterestedness in intellectual action1 never trust their own judgment when they feel the approaches of disease4 ,they know that it is difficult for a man1 however learned in medicine1 to arrive at accurate conclusions about the state of a human body that concerns him so nearly as his own1 even although the person who suffers has the advantage of actually experiencing the morbid sensations4 ,to all this you may answer that intellectual disinterestedness seems more an accident of situation than a virtue4 ,the virtue is not to have it1 but to seek it in all earnestness2 to be ready to accept the truth even when it is most unfavorable to ourselves4 ,i can illustrate my meaning by a reference to a matter of everyday experience4 ,there are people who cannot bear to look into their own accounts from a dread that the clear revelation of figures may be less agreeable to them than the illusions which they cherish4 ,there are others who possess a kind of virtue which enables them to see their own affairs as clearly as if they had no personal interest in them4 ,the weakness of the first is one of the most fatal of intellectual weaknesses2 the mental independence of the second is one of the most desirable of intellectual qualities4 ,the endeavor to attain it1 or to strengthen it1 is a great virtue1 and of all the virtues the one most indispensable to the nobility of the intellectual life4 ,,note4--,the reader may feel some surprise that ,i have not mentioned honesty as an important intellectual virtue4 ,honesty is of great importance1 no doubt1 but it appears to be 7as to practical effects7 included in disinterestedness1 and to be less comprehensively useful4 ,there is no reason to suspect the honesty of many political and theological partisans1 yet their honesty does not preserve them from the worst intellectual habits1 such as the habit of begging the question1 of misrepresenting the arguments on the opposite side1 of shutting their eyes to every fact which is not perfectly agreeable to them4 ,the truth is1 that mere honesty1 though a most respectable and necessary virtue1 goes a very little way toward the forming of an effective intellectual character4 ,it is valuable rather in the relations of the intellectual man to the outer world around him1 and even here it is dangerous unless tempered by discretion4 ,a perfect disinterestedness would ensure the best effects of honesty1 and yet avoid some serious evils1 against which honesty is not1 in itself1 a safeguard4 ,,letter ,,iv4 ,,to ,a ,,moralist ,,who ,,said ,,that ,,intellectual ,,culture ,,was ,,not ,,conducive ,,to ,,sexual ,,morality4 ,that the ,author does not write in the spirit of advocacy--,two different kinds of immorality--,byron and ,shelley--,a peculiar temptation for the intellectual--,a distinguished foreign writer--,reaction to coarseness from over-refinement--,danger of intellectual excesses--,moral utility of culture--,the most cultivated classes at the same time the most moral--,that men of high intellectual aims have an especially strong reason for morality--,m4 ,taine's opinion4 ,a critic in one of the quarterlies once treated me as a feeble defender of my opinions1 because ,i gave due consideration to both sides of a question4 ,he said that1 like a wise commander1 ,i capitulated beforehand in case my arguments did not come up for my relief2 nay1 more1 that ,i gave up my arms in unconditional surrender4 ,to this let me answer1 that ,i have nothing to do with the polemical method1 that ,i do not look upon an opponent as an enemy to be repelled1 but as a torch-bearer to be welcomed for any light that he may bring2 that ,i defend nothing1 but try to explore everything that lies near enough4 ,you need not expect me1 therefore1 to defend very vigorously the morality of the intellectual life4 ,an advocate could do it brilliantly2 there are plenty of materials1 but so clumsy an advocate as your present correspondent would damage the best of causes by unseasonable indiscretions4 ,so ,i begin by admitting that your accusations are most of them well founded4 ,many intellectual people have led immoral lives1 others have led lives which1 although in strict conformity to their own theories of morality1 were in opposition to the morality of their country and their age4 ,byron is a good instance of the first1 and ,shelley of the second4 ,byron was really and knowingly immoral2 ,shelley1 on the other hand1 hated what he considered to be immorality1 and lived a life as nearly as possible in accordance with the moral ideal in his own conscience2 still he did not respect the moral rule of his country1 but lived with ,mary ,godwin1 whilst ,harriet1 his first wife1 was still alive4 ,there is a clear distinction between the two cases2 yet both have the defect that the person takes in hand the regulation of his own morality1 which it is hardly safe for any one to do1 considering the prodigious force of passion4 ,i find even in the lives of intellectual people a peculiar temptation to immorality from which others are exempt4 ,it is in their nature to feel an eager desire for intellectual companionship1 and yet at the same time to exhaust very rapidly whatever is congenial to them in the intellect of their friends4 ,they feel a strong intellectual attraction to persons of the opposite sex2 and the idea of living with a person whose conversation is believed at the time to promise an increasing interest1 is attractive in ways of which those who have no such wants can scarcely form a conception4 ,a most distinguished foreign writer1 of the female sex1 has made a succession of domestic arrangements which1 if generally imitated by others1 would be subversive of any conceivable system of morality2 and yet it is clear in this case that the temptation was chiefly1 if not entirely1 intellectual4 ,the successive companions of this remarkable woman were all of them men of exceptional intellectual power1 and her motive for changing them was an unbridled intellectual curiosity4 ,this is the sort of immorality to which cultivated people are most exposed4 ,it is dangerous to the well-being of a community because it destroys the sense of security on which the idea of the family is founded4 ,if we are to leave our wives when their conversation ceases to be interesting1 the foundations of the home will be unsafe4 ,if they are to abandon1 us when we are dull1 to go away with some livelier and more talkative companion1 can we ever hope to retain them permanently8 ,there is another danger which must be looked fairly in the face4 ,when the lives of men are refined beyond the real needs of their organization1 ,nature is very apt to bring about the most extraordinary reactions4 ,thus the most exquisitely delicate artists in literature and painting have frequently had reactions of incredible coarseness4 ,within the ,chteaubriand of ,atala there existed an obscene ,chteaubriand that would burst forth occasionally in talk that no biographer could repeat4 ,i have heard the same thing of the sentimental ,lamartine4 ,we know that ,turner1 dreamer of enchanted landscapes1 took the pleasures of a sailor on the spree4 ,a friend said to me of one of the most exquisite living geniuses3 ,you can have no conception of the coarseness of his tastes2 he associates with the very lowest women1 and enjoys their rough brutality4 ,these cases only prove1 what ,i have always willingly admitted1 that the intellectual life is not free from certain dangers if we lead it too exclusively4 ,intellectual excesses1 by the excitement which they communicate to the whole system1 have a direct tendency to drive men into other excesses1 and a too great refinement in one direction may produce degrading reactions in another4 ,still the cultivation of the mind1 reasonably pursued1 is1 on the whole1 decidedly favorable to morality2 and we may easily understand that it should be so1 when we remember that people have recourse to sensual indulgences simply from a desire for excitement1 whilst intellectual pursuits supply excitement of a more innocent kind and in the utmost variety and abundance4 ,if1 instead of taking a few individual instances1 you broadly observe whole classes1 you will recognize the moral utility of culture4 ,the most cultivated classes in our own country are also the most moral1 and these classes have advanced in morality at the same time that they have advanced in culture4 ,english gentlemen of the present day are superior to their forefathers whom ,fielding described2 they are better educated1 and they read more2 they are at the same time both more sober and more chaste4 ,i may add that intellectual men have peculiar and most powerful reasons for avoiding the excesses of immorality1 reasons which to any one who has a noble ambition are quite enough to encourage him in self-control4 ,those excesses are the gradual self-destruction of the intellectual forces1 for they weaken the spring of the mind1 not leaving it well enough to face the drudgery that is inevitable in every career4 ,even in cases where they do not immediately lead to visible imbecility1 they make the man less efficient and less capable than he might have been2 and all experienced wrestlers with fate and fortune know well that success has often1 at the critical time1 depended upon some very trifling advantage which the slightest diminution of power would have lost to them4 ,no one knows the full immensity of the difference between having power enough to make a little headway against obstacles1 and just falling short of the power which is necessary at the time4 ,in every great intellectual career there are situations like that of a steamer with a storm-wind directly against her and an iron-bound coast behind4 ,if the engines are strong enough to gain an inch an hour she is safe1 but if they lose there is no hope4 ,intellectual successes are so rewarding that they are worth any sacrifice of pleasure2 the sense of defeat is so humiliating that fair ,venus herself could not offer a consolation for it4 ,an ambitious man will govern himself for the sake of his ambition1 and withstand the seductions of the senses4 ,can he be ever strong enough1 can his brain ever be lucid enough for the immensity of the task before him8 ,le jeune homme1 says ,m4 ,taine1 ignore qu'il n'y a pas de pire dperdition de forces1 que de tels commerces abaissent le coeur1 qu'aprs dix ans d'une vie pareille il aura perdu la moiti de sa volont1 que ses penses auront un arrire-got habituel d'amertume et de tristesse1 que son ressort intrieur sera amolli ou fauss4 ,il s'excuse ses propres yeux1 en se disant qu'un homme doit tout toucher pour tout connatre4 ,de fait1 il apprend la vie1 mais bien souvent aussi il perd l'nergie1 la chaleur d'me1 la capacit d'agir1 et trente ans il n'est plus bon qu' faire un employ1 un dilettante1 ou un rentier4 ,,part ,,iii4 ,,of ,,education4 ,,letter ,i4 ,,to ,a ,,friend ,,who ,,recommended ,,the ,,author ,,to ,,learn ,,this ,,thing ,,and ,,that4 ,lesson learned from a cook--,the ingredients of knowledge--,importance of proportion in the ingredients--,case of an ,english author--,two landscape painters--,the unity and charm of character often dependent upon the limitations of culture--,the burden of knowledge may diminish the energy of action--,difficulty of suggesting a safe rule for the selection of our knowledge--,men qualified for their work by ignorance as well as by knowledge--,men remarkable for the extent of their studies--,franz ,woepke--,goethe--,hebrew proverb4 ,i happened one day to converse with an excellent ,french cook about the delicate art which he professed1 and he comprised the whole of it under two heads--the knowledge of the mutual influences of ingredients1 and the judicious management of heat4 ,it struck me that there existed a very close analogy between cookery and education2 and1 on following out the subject in my own way1 ,i found that what he told me suggested several considerations of the very highest importance in the culture of the human intellect4 ,amongst the dishes for which my friend had a deserved reputation was a certain gteau de foie which had a very exquisite flavor4 ,the principal ingredient1 not in quantity hut in power1 was the liver of a fowl2 but there were several other ingredients also1 and amongst these a leaf or two of parsley4 ,he told me that the influence of the parsley was a good illustration of his theory about his art4 ,if the parsley were omitted1 the flavor he aimed at was not produced at all2 but1 on the other hand1 if the quantity of parsley was in the least excessive1 then the gteau instead of being a delicacy for gourmets became an uneatable mess4 ,perceiving that ,i was really interested in the subject1 he kindly promised a practical evidence of his doctrine1 and the next day intentionally spoiled his dish by a trifling addition of parsley4 ,he had not exaggerated the consequences2 the delicate flavor entirely departed1 and left a nauseous bitterness in its place1 like the remembrance of an ill-spent youth4 ,and so it is1 ,i thought1 with the different ingredients of knowledge which are so eagerly and indiscriminately recommended4 ,we are told that we ought to learn this thing and that1 as if every new ingredient did not affect the whole flavor of the mind4 ,there is a sort of intellectual chemistry which is quite as marvellous as material chemistry1 and a thousand times more difficult to observe4 ,one general truth may1 however1 be relied upon as surely and permanently our own4 ,it is true that everything we learn affects the whole character of the mind4 ,consider how incalculably important becomes the question of proportion in our knowledge1 and how that which we are is dependent as much upon our ignorance as our science4 ,what we call ignorance is only a smaller proportion--what we call science only a larger4 ,the larger quantity is recommended as an unquestionable good1 but the goodness of it is entirely dependent on the mental product that we want4 ,aristocracies have always instinctively felt this1 and have decided that a gentleman ought not to know too much of certain arts and sciences4 ,the character which they had accepted as their ideal would have been destroyed by indiscriminate additions to those ingredients of which long experience had fixed the exact proportions4 ,the same feeling is strong in the various professions3 there is an apprehension that the disproportionate knowledge may destroy the professional nature4 ,the less intelligent members of the profession will tell you that they dread an unprofessional use of time2 but the more thoughtful are not so apprehensive about hours and days1 they dread that sure transformation of the whole intellect which follows every increase of knowledge4 ,i knew an ,english author who by great care and labor had succeeded in forming a style which harmonized quite perfectly with the character of his thinking1 and served as an unfailing means of communication with his readers4 ,every one recognized its simple ease and charm1 and he might have gone on writing with that enviable facility had he not determined to study ,locke's philosophical compositions4 ,shortly afterwards my friend's style suddenly lost its grace2 he began to write with difficulty1 and what he wrote was unpleasantly difficult to read4 ,even the thinking was no longer his own thinking4 ,having been in too close communication with a writer who was not a literary artist1 his own art had deteriorated in consequence4 ,i could mention an ,english landscape painter who diminished the pictorial excellence of his works by taking too much interest in geology4 ,his landscapes became geological illustrations1 and no longer held together pictorially4 ,another landscape painter1 who began by taking a healthy delight in the beauty of natural scenery1 became morbidly religious after an illness1 and thenceforth passed by the loveliest ,european scenery as comparatively unworthy of his attention1 to go and make ugly pictures of places that had sacred associations4 ,for people who produce nothing these risks appear to be less serious2 and yet there have been admirable characters1 not productive1 whose admirableness might have been lessened by the addition of certain kinds of learning4 ,the last generation of the ,english country aristocracy was particularly rich in characters whose unity and charm was dependent upon the limitations of their culture1 and which would have been entirely altered1 perhaps not for the better1 by simply knowing a science or a literature that was closed to them4 ,abundant illustrations might be collected in evidence of the well-known truth that the burden of knowledge may diminish the energy of action2 but this is rather outside of what we are considering1 which is the influence of knowledge upon the intellectual and not the active life4 ,i regret very much not to be able to suggest anything like a safe rule for the selection of our knowledge4 ,the most rational one which has been hit upon as yet appears to be a simple confidence in the feeling that we inwardly want to know4 ,if ,i feel the inward want for a certain kind of knowledge1 it may perhaps be presumed that it would be good for me2 but even this feeling is not perfectly reliable1 since people are often curious about things that do not closely concern them1 whilst they neglect what it is most important for them to ascertain4 ,all that ,i venture to insist upon is1 that we cannot learn any new thing without changing our whole intellectual composition as a chemical compound is changed by another ingredient2 that the mere addition of knowledge may be good for us or bad for us2 and that whether it will be good or bad is usually a more obscure problem than the enthusiasm of educators will allow4 ,that depends entirely on the work we have to do4 ,men are qualified for their work by knowledge1 but they are also negatively qualified for it by their ignorance4 ,nature herself appears to take care that the workman shall not know too much--she keeps him steadily to his task2 fixes him in one place mentally if not corporeally1 and conquers his restlessness by fatigue4 ,as we are bound to a little planet1 and hindered by impassable gulfs of space from wandering in stars where we have no business1 so we are kept by the force of circumstances to the limited studies that belong to us4 ,if we have any kind of efficiency1 very much of it is owing to our narrowness1 which is favorable to a powerful individuality4 ,sometimes1 it is true1 we meet with instances of men remarkable for the extent of their studies4 ,franz ,woepke1 who died in #ahfd1 was an extraordinary example of this kind4 ,in the course of a short life he became1 although unknown1 a prodigy of various learning4 ,his friend ,m4 ,taine says that he was erudite in many eruditions4 ,his favorite pursuit was the history of mathematics1 but as auxiliaries he had learned ,arabic1 and ,persian1 and ,sanskrit4 ,he was classically educated1 he wrote and spoke the principal modern languages easily and correctly2#a his printed works are in three languages4 ,he had lived in several nations1 and known their leading men of science4 ,and yet this astonishing list of acquirements may be reduced to the exercise of two decided and natural tastes4 ,franz ,woepke had the gift of the linguist and an interest in mathematics1 the first serving as auxiliary to the second4 ,goethe said that a vast abundance of objects must lie before us ere we can think upon them4 ,woepke felt the need of this abundance1 but he did not go out of his way to find it4 ,the objectionable seeking after knowledge is the seeking after the knowledge which does not belong to us4 ,in vain you urge me to go in quest of sciences for which ,i have no natural aptitude4 ,would you have me act like that foolish camel in the ,hebrew proverb1 which in going to seek horns lost his ears8 ,,letter ,,ii4 ,,to ,a ,,friend ,,who ,,studied ,,many ,,things4 ,men cannot restrict themselves in learning--,description of a ,latin scholar of two generations since--,what is attempted by a cultivated contemporary--,advantages of a more restricted field--,privilege of instant admission--,many pursuits cannot be kept up simultaneously--,the deterioration of knowledge through neglect--,what it really is--,the only available knowledge that which we habitually use--,difficulty in modern education--,that it is inevitably a beginning of many things and no more--,the simpler education of an ancient ,greek--,that of ,alcibiades--,how the ,romans were situated as to this--,the privilege of limited studies belongs to the earlier ages--,they learned and we attempt to learn4 ,it appears to be henceforth inevitable that men should be unable to restrict themselves to one or two pursuits1 and you who are in most respects a very perfect specimen of what the age naturally produces in the way of culture1 have studied subjects so many and so various that a mere catalogue of them would astonish your grandfather if his shade could revisit his old home4 ,and yet your grandfather was considered a very highly cultivated gentleman according to the ideas and requirements of his time4 ,he was an elegant scholar1 but in ,latin chiefly1 for he said that he never read ,greek easily1 and indeed he abandoned that language entirely on leaving the ,university4 ,but his ,latin1 from daily use and practice 7for he let no day slip by without reading some ancient author7 and from the thoroughness and accuracy of his scholarship1 was always as ready for service as the saddled steeds of ,branksome4 ,i think he got more culture1 more of the best effects of good literature1 out of that one language than some polyglots get out of a dozen4 ,he knew no modern tongue1 he had not even the common pretension to read a little ,french1 and in his day hardly anybody studied ,german4 ,he had no scientific training of any kind except mathematics1 in which ,i have heard him say that he had never been proficient4 ,of the fine arts his ignorance was complete1 so complete that ,i doubt if he could have distinguished ,rigaud from ,reynolds1 and he had never played upon any musical instrument4 ,the leisure which he enjoyed during a long and tranquil existence he gave entirely to ,latin and ,english literature1 but of the two he enjoyed ,latin the more1 not with the preference of a pedant1 but because it carried him more completely out of the present1 and gave him the refreshment of a more perfect change4 ,he produced on all who knew him the impression of a cultivated gentleman1 which he was4 ,there is only an interval of one generation between you and that good ,latinist1 but how wide is the difference in your intellectual regimen8 ,you have studied--well1 here is a little list of what you have studied1 and probably even this is not complete3-- ,greek1 ,latin1 ,french1 ,german1 ,italian1 mathematics1 chemistry1 mineralogy1 geology1 botany1 the theory of music1 the practice of music on two instruments1 much theory about painting1 the practice of painting in oil and water-color1 photography1 etching on copper1 etc41 etc41 etc4 ,that is to say1 six literatures 7including ,english71 six sciences 7counting mineralogy and geology as one71 and five branches or departments of the fine arts4 ,omitting ,english literature from our total1 as that may be considered to come by nature to an ,englishman1 though any real proficiency in it costs the leisure of years1 we have here no less than sixteen different pursuits4 ,if you like to merge the theory of music and painting in the practice of those arts1 though as a branch of study the theory is really distinct1 we have still fourteen pursuits1 any one of which is enough to occupy the whole of one man's time4 ,if you gave some time daily to each of these pursuits1 you could scarcely give more than half an hour1 even supposing that you had no professional occupation1 and that you had no favorite study1 absorbing time to the detriment of the rest4 ,now your grandfather1 though he would be considered quite an ignorant country gentleman in these days1 had in reality certain intellectual advantages over his more accomplished descendant4 ,in the first place1 he entirely escaped the sense of pressure1 the feeling of not having time enough to do what he wanted to do4 ,he accumulated his learning as quietly as a stout lady accumulates her fat1 by the daily satisfaction of his appetite4 ,and at the same time that he escaped the sense of pressure1 he escaped also the miserable sense of imperfection4 ,of course he did not know ,latin like an ancient ,roman1 but then he never met with any ancient ,romans to humiliate him by too rapid and half-intelligible conversation4 ,he met the best ,latinists of his day2 and felt himself a master amongst masters4 ,every time he went into his study1 to pass delightful hours with the noble authors that he loved1 he knew that his admission into that august society would be immediate and complete4 ,he had to wait in no antechamber of mere linguistic difficulty1 but passed at once into the atmosphere of ancient thought1 and breathed its delicate perfume4 ,in this great privilege of instant admission the man of one study has always the advantage of men more variously cultivated4 ,their misfortune is to be perpetually waiting in antechambers1 and losing time in them4 ,grammars and dictionaries are antechambers1 bad drawing and bad coloring are antechambers1 musical practice with imperfect intonation is an antechamber4 ,and the worst is that even when a man1 like yourself for instance1 of very various culture1 has at one time fairly penetrated beyond the antechamber1 he is not sure of admittance a year hence1 because in the mean time the door may have been closed against him4 ,the rule of each separate hall or saloon of knowledge is that he alone is to be instantly admitted who calls there every day4 ,the man of various pursuits does not1 in any case1 keep them up simultaneously2 he is led by inclination or compelled by necessity to give predominance to one or another4 ,if you have fifteen different pursuits1 ten of them1 at any given time1 will be lying by neglected4 ,the metaphor commonly used in reference to neglected pursuits is borrowed from the oxidation of metal2 it is said that they become rusty4 ,this metaphor is too mild to be exact4 ,rust on metal1 even on polished steel1 is easily guarded against by care1 and a gun or a knife does not need to be constantly used to keep it from being pitted4 ,the gunsmith and the cutler know how to keep these things1 in great quantity1 without using them at all4 ,but no one can retain knowledge without using it4 ,the metaphor fails still more seriously in perpetuating a false conception of the deterioration of knowledge through neglect4 ,it is not simply a loss of polish which takes place1 not a loss of mere surface-beauty1 but absolute disorganization1 like the disorganization of a carriage when the axle-tree is taken away4 ,a rusty thing may still be used1 but a disorganized thing cannot be used until the lost organ has been replaced4 ,there is no equivalent1 amongst ordinary material losses1 to the intellectual loss that we incur by ceasing from a pursuit4 ,but we may consider neglect as an enemy who carries away the girths from our saddles1 the bits from our bridles1 the oars from our boats1 and one wheel from each of our carriages1 leaving us indeed still nominally possessors of all these aids to locomotion1 but practically in the same position as if we were entirely without them4 ,and as an enemy counts upon the delays caused by these vexations to execute his designs whilst we are helpless1 so whilst we are laboring to replace the lost parts of our knowledge the occasion slips by when we most need it4 ,the only knowledge which is available when it is wanted is that which we habitually use4 ,studies which from their nature cannot be commonly used are always retained with great difficulty4 ,the study of anatomy is perhaps the best instance of this2 every one who has attempted it knows with what difficulty it is kept by the memory4 ,anatomists say that it has to be learned and forgotten six times before it can be counted as a possession4 ,this is because anatomy lies so much outside of what is needed for ordinary life that very few people are ever called upon to use it except during the hours when they are actually studying it4 ,the few who need it every day remember is as easily as a man remembers the language of the country which he inhabits4 ,the workmen in the establishment at ,saint ,aubin d'croville1 where ,dr4 ,auzoux manufactures his wonderful anatomical models1 are as familiar with anatomy as a painter is with the colors on his palette4 ,they never forget it4 ,their knowledge is never made practically valueless by some yawning hiatus1 causing temporary incompetence and delay4 ,to have one favorite study and live in it with happy familiarity1 and cultivate every portion of it diligently and lovingly1 as a small yeoman proprietor cultivates his own land1 this1 as to study1 at least1 is the most enviable intellectual life4 ,but there is another side to the question which has to be considered4 ,the first difficulty for us is in our education4 ,modern education is a beginning of many things1 and it is little more than a beginning4 ,my notion of educating my boy1 said a rich ,englishman1 is not to make him particularly clever at anything during his minority1 but to make him overcome the rudimentary difficulties of many things1 so that when he selects for himself his own line of culture in the future1 it cannot be altogether strange to him1 whatever line he may happen to select4 ,a modern father usually allows his son to learn many things from a feeling of timidity about making a choice1 if only one thing had to be chosen4 ,he might so easily make a wrong choice6 ,when the inheritance of the human race was less rich1 there was no embarrassment of that kind4 ,look at the education of an ancient ,greek1 at the education of one of the most celebrated ,athenians1 a man living in the most refined and intellectual society1 himself mentally and bodily the perfect type of his splendid race1 an eloquent and powerful speaker1 a most capable commander both by sea and land--look at the education of the brilliant ,alcibiades6 ,when ,socrates gave the list of the things that ,alcibiades had learned1 ,alcibiades could add to it no other even nominal accomplishment1 and what a meagre1 short catalogue it was6 ,but indeed ,i also pretty accurately know what thou hast learned2 thou wilt tell me if anything has escaped my notice4 ,thou hast learned then thy letters 7,greek3 grammata71 to play on the cithara 7,greek3 kitharizein7 and to wrestle 7,greek3 palaiein71 for thou hast not cared to learn to play upon the flute4 ,this is all that thou hast learned1 unless something has escaped me4 ,the ,greek3 grammata which ,alcibiades had learned with a master meant reading and writing1 for he expressly says later on1 that as for speaking ,greek1 ,greek3 hellnizein1 he learned that of no other master than the people4 ,an ,english education equivalent to that of ,alcibiades would therefore consist of reading and writing1 wrestling and guitar-playing1 the last accomplishment being limited to very simple music4 ,such an education was possible to an ,athenian 7though it is fair to add that ,socrates does not seem to have thought much of it7 because a man situated as ,alcibiades was situated in the intellectual history of the world1 had no past behind him which deserved his attention more than the present which surrounded him4 ,simply to speak ,greek1 ,greek3 hellnizein1 was really then the most precious of all accomplishments1 and the fact that ,alcibiades came by it easily does not lessen its value4 ,amongst a people like the ,athenians1 fond of intellectual talk1 conversation was one of the best and readiest means of informing the mind1 and certainly the very best means of developing it4 ,it was not a slight advantage to speak the language of ,socrates1 and have him for a companion4 ,the cleverest and most accomplished ,romans were situated rather more like ourselves1 or at least as we should be situated if we had not to learn ,latin and ,greek1 and if there were no modern language worth studying except ,french4 ,they went to ,greece to perfect themselves in ,greek1 and improve their accent1 just as our young gentlemen go to ,paris or ,touraine4 ,still1 the burden of the past was comparatively light upon their shoulders4 ,an ,englishman who had attempted no more than they were bound to attempt might be a scholar1 but he would not be considered so ,he might be a thorough scholar in ,french and ,english1--that is1 he might possess the cream of two great literatures1--but he would be spoken of as a person of defective education4 ,it is the fashion1 for example1 to speak of ,sir ,walter ,scott as a half-educated man1 because he did not know much ,greek1 yet ,sir ,walter had studied ,german with success1 and with his habit of extensive reading1 and his immense memory1 certainly knew incomparably more about the generations which preceded him than ,horace knew of those which preceded the ,augustan era4 ,the privilege of limiting their studies1 from the beginning1 to one or two branches of knowledge1 belonged to earlier ages1 and every successive accumulation of the world's knowledge has gradually lessened it4 ,schoolboys in our time are expected to know more1 or to have attempted to learn more1 than the most brilliant intellectual leaders of former times4 ,what ,english parent1 in easy circumstances1 would be content that his son should have the education of ,alcibiades1 or an education accurately corresponding to that of ,horace1 or to that which sufficed for ,shakespeare8 ,yet although the burdens laid upon the memory have been steadily augmented1 its powers have not increased4 ,our brains are not better constituted than those of our forefathers1 although where they learned one thing we attempt to learn six4 ,they learned and we attempt to learn4 ,the only hope for us is to make a selection from the attempts of our too heavily burdened youth1 and in those selected studies to emulate in after-life the thoroughness of our forefathers4 ,,letter ,,iii ,,to ,a ,,friend ,,who ,,studied ,,many ,,things4 ,an idealized portrait--,the scholars of the sixteenth century--,isolated students--,french students of ,english when isolated from ,englishmen--,how one of them read ,tennyson--,importance of sounds--,illusions of scholarship--,difficulty of appreciating the sense--,that ,latin may still be made a spoken language--,the early education of ,montaigne--,a contemporary instance--,dream of a ,latin island--,rapid corruption of a language taught artificially4 ,in your answer to my letter about the multiplicity of modern studies you tell me that my portrait of your grandfather is considerably idealized1 and that1 notwithstanding all the respect which you owe to his memory1 you have convincing proof in his manuscript annotations to ,latin authors that his scholarship cannot have been quite so thorough as ,i represented it4 ,you convey1 moreover1 though with perfect modesty in form1 the idea that you believe your own ,latin superior to your grandfather's1 notwithstanding the far greater variety of your studies4 ,let me confess that ,i did somewhat idealize that description of your grandfather's intellectual life4 ,i described rather a life which might have been than a life which actually was4 ,and even this might have been is problematical4 ,it may be doubted whether any modern has ever really mastered ,latin4 ,the most that can be said is that a man situated like your grandfather1 without a profession1 without our present temptation to scatter effort in many pursuits1 and who made ,latin scholarship his unique intellectual purpose1 would probably go nearer to a satisfactory degree of attainment than we whose time and strength have been divided into so many fragments4 ,but the picture of a perfect modern ,latinist is purely ideal1 and the prevalent notion of high attainment in a dead language is not fixed enough to be a standard1 whilst if it were fixed it would certainly be a very low standard4 ,the scholars of this century do not write ,latin except as a mere exercise2 they do not write books in ,latin1 and they never speak it at all4 ,they do not use the language actively2 they only read it1 which is not really using it1 but only seeing how other men have used it4 ,there is the same difference between reading a language and writing or speaking it that there is between looking at pictures intelligently and painting them4 ,the scholars of the sixteenth century spoke ,latin habitually1 and wrote it with ease and fluency4 ,nicholas ,grouchy1 says ,montaigne1 who wrote a book de ,comitiis ,romanorum2 ,william ,guerente1 who has written a commentary upon ,aristotle2 ,george ,buchanan1 that great ,scotch poet2 and ,marc ,anthony ,muret1 whom both ,france and ,italy have acknowledged for the best orator of his time1 my domestic tutors 7at college71 have all of them often told me that ,i had in my infancy that language so very fluent and ready that they were afraid to enter into discourse with me4 ,this passage is interesting for two reasons2 it shows that the scholars of that age spoke ,latin2 but it proves at the same time that they cannot have been really masters of the language1 since they were afraid to enter into discourse with a clever child4 ,fancy an ,englishman who professed to be a ,french scholar and yet was afraid to enter into discourse with a ,french boy1 for fear he should speak too quickly6 ,the position of these scholars relatively to ,latin was in fact too isolated for it to have been possible that they should reach the point of mastery4 ,suppose a society of ,frenchmen1 in some secluded little ,french village where no ,englishman ever penetrates1 and that these ,frenchmen learn ,english from dictionaries1 and set themselves to speak ,english with each other1 without anybody to teach them the colloquial language or its pronunciation1 without ever once hearing the sound of it from ,english lips1 what sort of ,english would they create amongst themselves8 ,this is a question that ,i happen to be able to answer very accurately1 because ,i have known two ,frenchmen who studied ,english literature just as the ,frenchmen of the sixteenth century studied the literature of ancient ,rome4 ,one of them1 especially1 had attained what would certainly in the case of a dead language be considered a very high degree of scholarship indeed4 ,most of our great authors were known to him1 even down to the close critical comparison of different readings4 ,aided by the most powerful memory ,i ever knew1 he had amassed such stores that the acquisitions1 even of cultivated ,englishmen1 would in many cases have appeared inconsiderable beside them4 ,but he could not write or speak ,english in a manner tolerable to an ,englishman2 and although he knew nearly all the words in the language1 it was dictionary knowledge1 and so different from an ,englishman's apprehension of the same words that it was only a sort of pseudo-,english that he knew1 and not our living tongue4 ,his appreciation of our authors1 especially of our poets1 differed so widely from ,english criticism and ,english feeling that it was evident he did not understand them as we understand them4 ,two things especially proved this3 he frequently mistook declamatory versification of the most mediocre quality for poetry of an elevated order2 whilst1 on the other hand1 his ear failed to perceive the music of the musical poets1 as ,byron and ,tennyson4 ,how could he hear their music1 he to whom our ,english sounds were all unknown8 ,here1 for example1 is the way he read ,claribel3-- ,at ev ze bittle bommess ,azvart ze zeeket lon ,at none ze veeld be ommess ,aboot ze most edston ,at meedneeg ze mon commess ,an lokez dovn alon ,ere songg ze lintveet svelless ,ze clirvoic-ed mavi dvelless ,ze fledgling srost lispess ,ze slombroos vav ootvelless ,ze babblang ronnel creespess ,ze ollov grot replee-ess ,vere ,claribel lovlee-ess4 ,this1 as nearly as ,i have been able to render it in ,english spelling1 was the way in which a ,french gentleman of really high culture was accustomed to read ,english poetry to himself4 ,is it surprising that he should have failed to appreciate the music of our musical verse8 ,he did not1 however1 seem to be aware that there existed any obstacle to the accuracy of his decisions1 but gave his opinion with a good deal of authority1 which might have surprised me had ,i not so frequently heard ,latin scholars do exactly the same thing4 ,my ,french friend read ,claribel in a ridiculous manner2 but ,english scholars all read ,latin poetry in a manner not less ridiculous4 ,you laugh to hear ,claribel read with a foreign pronunciation1 and you see at once the absurdity of affecting to judge of it as poetry before the reader has learned to pronounce the sounds2 but you do not laugh to hear ,latin poetry read with a foreign pronunciation1 and you do not perceive that we are all of us disqualified1 by our profound ignorance of the pronunciation of the ancient ,romans1 for any competent criticism of their verse4 ,in all poetry1 in all oratory1 in much of the best and most artistic prose-writing also1 sound has a great influence upon sense3 a great deal is conveyed by it1 especially in the way of feeling4 ,if we do not thoroughly know and practise the right pronunciation 7and by the right pronunciation ,i mean that which the author himself thought in whilst he wrote71 we miss those delicate tones and cadences which are in literature like the modulations of the voice in speech4 ,nor can we properly appreciate the artistic choice of beautiful names for persons and places unless we know the sounds of them quite accurately1 and have already in our minds the associations belonging to the sounds4 ,names which are selected with the greatest care by our ,english poets1 and which hold their place like jewels on the finely-wrought texture of the verse1 lose all their value when they are read with a vicious foreign pronunciation4 ,so it must be with ,latin poetry when read by an ,englishman1 and it is probable that we are really quite insensible to the delicate art of verbal selection as it was practised by the most consummate masters of antiquity4 ,i know that scholars think that they hear the ,roman music still2 but this is one of the illusions of scholarship4 ,in each country ,latin scholars have adopted a conventional style of reading1 and the sounds which are in conformity with that style seem to them to be musical1 whilst other than the accepted sounds seem ridiculous1 and grate harshly on the unaccustomed ear4 ,the music which the ,englishman hears1 or imagines that he hears1 in the language of ancient ,rome1 is certainly not the music which the ,roman authors intended to note in words4 ,it is as if my ,frenchman1 having read ,claribel in his own way1 had affirmed that he heard the music of the verse4 ,if he heard music at all1 it was not ,tennyson's4 ,permit me to add a few observations about sense4 ,my ,french friend certainly understood ,english in a very remarkable manner for a student who had never visited our country2 he knew the dictionary meaning of every word he encountered1 and yet there ever remained between him and our ,english tongue a barrier or wall of separation1 hard to define1 but easy to perceive4 ,in the true deep sense he never understood the language4 ,he studied it1 laid regular siege to it1 mastered it to all appearance1 yet remained1 to the end1 outside of it4 ,his observations1 and especially his unfavorable criticisms1 proved this quite conclusively4 ,expressions often appeared to him faulty1 in which no ,english reader would see anything to remark upon2 it may be added that 7by way of compensation7 he was unable to appreciate the oddity of those intentionally quaint turns of expression which are invented by the craft of humorists4 ,it may even be doubted whether his ,english was of any ascertainable use to him4 ,he might probably have come as near to an understanding of our authors by the help of translations1 and he could not converse in ,english1 for the spoken language was entirely unintelligible to him4 ,an acquisition of this kind seems scarcely an adequate reward for the labor that it costs4 ,compared with living ,englishmen my ,french friend was nowhere1 but if ,english had been a dead language1 he would have been looked up to as a very eminent scholar1 and would have occupied a professor's chair in the university4 ,a little more life might be given to the study of ,latin by making it a spoken language4 ,boys might be taught to speak ,latin in their schooldays with the modern ,roman pronunciation1 which1 though probably a deviation from the ancient1 is certainly nearer to it than our own4 ,if colloquial ,latin were made a subject of special research1 it is likely that a sufficiently rich phrase-book might be constructed from the plays4 ,if this plan were pursued throughout ,europe 7always adopting the ,roman pronunciation7 all educated men would possess a common tongue which might be enriched to suit modern requirements without any serious departure from classical construction4 ,the want of such a system as this was painfully felt at the council of the ,vatican1 where the assembled prelates discovered that their ,latin was of no practical use1 although the ,roman ,catholic clergy employ ,latin more habitually than any other body of men in the world4 ,that a modern may be taught to think in ,latin1 is proved by the early education of ,montaigne1 and ,i may mention a much more recent instance4 ,my brother-in-law told me that1 in the spring of #ahga1 a friend of his had come to stay with him accompanied by his little son1 a boy seven years old4 ,this child spoke ,latin with the utmost fluency1 and he spoke nothing else4 ,what ,i am going to suggest is a ,utopian dream1 but let us suppose that a hundred fathers could be found in ,europe1 all of this way of thinking1 all resolved to submit to some inconvenience in order that their sons might speak ,latin as a living language4 ,a small island might be rented near the coast of ,italy1 and in that island ,latin alone might be permitted4 ,just as the successive governments of ,france maintain the establishments of ,svres and the ,gobelins to keep the manufactures of porcelain and tapestry up to a recognized high standard of excellence1 so this ,latin island might be maintained to give more vivacity to scholarship4 ,if there were but one little corner of ground on the wide earth where pure ,latin was constantly spoken1 our knowledge of the classic writers would become far more sympathetically intimate4 ,after living in the ,latin island we should think in ,latin as we read1 and read without translating4 ,but this is dreaming4 ,it is too certain that on returning from the ,latin island into the atmosphere of modern colleges an evil change would come over our young ,latinists like that which came upon the young ,montaigne when his father sent him to the college of ,guienne1 at that time the best and most flourishing in ,france4 ,montaigne tells us that1 notwithstanding all his father's precautions1 the place was a college still4 ,my ,latin1 he adds1 immediately grew corrupt1 and by discontinuance ,i have since lost all manner of use of it4 ,if it were the custom to speak ,latin1 it would be the custom to speak it badly2 and a master of the language would have to conform to the evil usages around him4 ,our present state of ignorance has the charm of being silent1 except when old-fashioned gentlemen in the ,house of ,commons quote poetry which they cannot pronounce to hearers who cannot understand it4 ,,note4--,an ,english orator quoted from ,cicero the sentence ,non intelligunt homines quam magnum vectigal sit parsimonia4 ,he made the second vowel in vectigal short1 and the ,house laughed at him2 he tried again and pronounced it with the long sound of the ,english i1 on which the critical body he addressed was perfectly satisfied4 ,but if a ,roman had been present it is probable that1 of the two1 the short ,english i would have astonished his ears the less1 for our short i does bear some resemblance to the southern i whereas our long i resembles no single letter in any alphabet of the ,latin family of languages4 ,we are scrupulously careful to avoid what we call false quantities1 we are quite utterly and ignorantly unscrupulous about false sounds4 ,one of the best instances is the well-known veni1 vidi1 vici1 which we pronounce very much as if it had been written vinai1 vaidai1 vaisai1 in ,italian letters4 ,,letter ,,iv4 ,,to ,a ,,student ,,of ,,literature4 ,studies1 whatever they may be1 always considered1 by some a waste of time--,the classical languages--,the higher mathematics--,the accomplishments--,indirect uses of different studies--,influence of music--,studies indirectly useful to authors--,what induced ,mr4 ,roscoe to write the lives of ,lorenzo de' ,medici and ,leo ,x4 ,whatever you study1 some one will consider that particular study a foolish waste of time4 ,if you were to abandon successively every subject of intellectual labor which had1 in its turn1 been condemned by some adviser as useless1 the result would be simple intellectual nakedness4 ,the classical languages1 to begin with1 have long been considered useless by the majority of practical people--and pray1 what to shopkeepers1 doctors1 attorneys1 artists1 can be the use of the higher mathematics8 ,and if these studies1 which have been conventionally classed as serious studies1 are considered unnecessary notwithstanding the tremendous authority of custom1 how much the more are those studies exposed to a like contempt which belong to the category of accomplishments6 ,what is the use of drawing1 for it ends in a worthless sketch8 ,why should we study music when after wasting a thousand hours the amateur cannot satisfy the ear8 ,a quoi bon modern languages when the accomplishment only enables us to call a waiter in ,french or ,german who is sure to answer us in ,english8 ,and what1 when it is not your trade1 can be the good of dissecting animals or plants8 ,to all questionings of this kind there is but one reply4 ,we work for culture4 ,we work to enlarge the intelligence1 and to make it a better and more effective instrument4 ,this is our main purpose2 but it may be added that even for our special labors it is always difficult to say beforehand exactly what will turn out in the end to be most useful4 ,what1 in appearance1 can be more entirely outside the work of a landscape painter than the study of ancient history8 and yet ,i can show you how an interest in ancient history might indirectly be of great service to a landscape painter4 ,it would make him profoundly feel the human associations of many localities which to an ignorant man would be devoid of interest or meaning2 and this human interest in the scenes where great events have taken place1 or which have been distinguished by the habitation of illustrious men in other ages1 is in fact one of the great fundamental motives of landscape painting4 ,it has been very much questioned1 especially by foreign critics1 whether the interest in botany which is taken by some of the more cultivated ,english landscape painters is not for them a false direction and wrong employment of the mind2 but a landscape painter may feel his interest in vegetation infinitely increased by the accurate knowledge of its laws1 and such an increase of interest would make him work more zealously1 and with less danger of weariness and ennui1 besides being a very useful help to the memory in retaining the authentic vegetable forms4 ,it may seem more difficult to show the possible utility of a study apparently so entirely outside of other studies as music is3 and yet music has an important influence on the whole of our emotional nature1 and indirectly upon expression of all kinds4 ,he who has once learned the self-control of the musician1 the use of piano and forte1 each in its right place1 when to be lightly swift or majestically slow1 and especially how to keep to the key once chosen till the right time has come for changing it2 he who has once learned this knows the secret of the arts4 ,no painter1 writer1 orator1 who had the power and judgment of a thoroughly cultivated musician1 could sin against the broad principles of taste4 ,more than all other men have authors reason to appreciate the indirect utilities of knowledge that is apparently irrelevant4 ,who can tell what knowledge will be of most use to them8 ,even the very greatest of authors are indebted to miscellaneous reading1 often in several different languages1 for the suggestion of their most original works1 and for the light which has kindled many a shining thought of their own4 ,and authors who seem to have less need than others of an outward help1 poets whose compositions might appear to be chiefly inventive and emotional1 novelists who are free from the restraints and the researches of the historian1 work up what they know into what they write2 so that if you could remove every line which is based on studies outside the strict limits of their art1 you would blot out half their compositions4 ,take the antiquarian element out of ,scott1 and see how many of his works could never have been written4 ,remove from ,goldsmith's brain the recollection of his wayward studies and strange experiences1 and you would remove the rich material of the ,traveller and the ,essays1 and mutilate even the immortal ,vicar of ,wakefield4 ,without a classical education and foreign travel1 ,byron would not have composed ,childe ,harold2 without the most catholic interest in the literature of all the ages1 and of many different peoples from the ,north ,sea to the ,mediterranean1 our contemporary ,william ,morris would never have conceived1 and could not have executed1 that strong work ,the ,earthly ,paradise4 ,it may not seem necessary to learn ,italian1 yet ,mr4 ,roscoe's celebrity as an author was due in the first place to his private fondness for ,italian literature4 ,he did not learn ,italian in order that he might write his biographies1 but he wrote about ,lorenzo and ,leo because he had mastered ,italian1 and because the language led him to take an interest in the greatest house of ,florence4 ,the way in which authors are led by their favorite studies indirectly to the great performance of their lives has never been more clearly illustrated than in this instance4 ,when ,william ,roscoe was a young man he had for his friend ,francis ,holden1 nephew of ,mr4 ,richard ,holden1 a schoolmaster in ,liverpool4 ,francis ,holden was a young man of uncommon culture1 having at the same time really sound scholarship in several languages1 and an ardent enthusiasm for literature4 ,he urged ,roscoe to study languages1 and used especially1 in their evening walks together1 to repeat to him passages from the noblest poets of ,italy4 ,in this way ,roscoe was led to attempt ,italian1 and1 having once begun1 went on till he had mastered it4 ,it was in the course of these studies1 says his biographer1 that he first formed the idea of writing the ,life of ,lorenzo de' ,medici4 ,,letter ,v4 ,,to ,a ,,country ,,gentleman ,,who ,,regretted ,,that ,,his ,,son ,,had ,,the ,,tendencies ,,of ,a ,,dilettant4 ,inaccuracy of the common distinction between amateur pursuits and more serious studies--,all of us are amateurs in many things--,prince ,albert--,the ,emperor ,napoleon ,,iii4--,contrast between general and professional education--,the price of high accomplishment4 ,i agree with you that amateurship1 as generally practised1 may be a waste of time1 but the common distinction between amateur pursuits and serious studies is inconsistent4 ,a painter whose art is imperfect and who does not work for money is called an amateur2 a scholar who writes imperfect ,latin1 not for money1 escapes the imputation of amateurship1 and is called a learned man4 ,surely we have been blinded by custom in these things4 ,ideas of frivolity are attached to imperfect acquirement in certain directions1 and ideas of gravity to equally imperfect acquirement in others4 ,to write bad ,latin poetry is not thought to be frivolous1 but it is considered frivolous to compose imperfectly and unprofessionally in other fine arts4 ,yet are we not all of us amateurs in those pursuits which constituted our education--amateurs at the best1 if we loved them1 and even inferior to amateurs if we disliked them8 ,we have not sounder knowledge or more perfect skill in the ancient languages than ,prince ,albert had in music4 ,we know something of them1 yet in comparison with perfect mastery such as that of a cultivated old ,greek or ,roman1 our scholarship is at the best on a level with the musical scholarship of a cultivated amateur like the ,prince ,consort4 ,if the essence of dilettantism is to be contented with imperfect attainment1 ,i fear that all educated people must be considered dilettants4 ,it is narrated of the ,emperor ,napoleon ,,iii4 that in answer to some one who inquired of his ,majesty whether the ,prince ,imperial was a musician1 he replied that he discouraged dilettantism1 and did not wish his son to be a ,coburg4 ,but the ,emperor himself was quite as much a dilettant as ,prince ,albert2 though their dilettantism did not lie in the same directions4 ,the ,prince was an amateur musician and artist2 the ,emperor was an amateur historian1 an amateur scholar1 and antiquary4 ,it may be added that ,napoleon ,,iii4 indulged in another and more dangerous kind of amateurship4 ,he had a taste for amateur generalship1 and the consequences of his indulgence of this taste are known to every one4 ,the variety of modern education encourages a scattered dilettantism4 ,it is only in professional life that the energies of young men are powerfully concentrated4 ,there is a steadying effect in thorough professional training which school education does not supply4 ,our boys receive praise and prizes for doing many things most imperfectly1 and it is not their fault if they remain ignorant of what perfection really is1 and of the immensity of the labor which it costs4 ,i think that you would do well1 perhaps1 without discouraging your son too much by chillingly accurate estimates of the value of what he has done1 to make him on all proper occasions feel and see the difference between half-knowledge and thorough mastery4 ,it would be a good thing for a youth to be made clearly aware how enormous a price of labor ,nature has set upon high accomplishment in everything that is really worthy of his pursuit4 ,it is this persuasion1 which men usually arrive at only in their maturity1 that operates as the most effectual tranquillizer of frivolous activities4 ,,letter ,,vi4 ,,to ,,the ,,principal ,,of ,a ,,french ,,college4 ,the ,author's dread of protection in intellectual pursuits--,example from the ,fine ,arts--,prize poems--,governmental encouragement of learning--,the bad effects of it--,pet pursuits--,objection to the interference of ,ministers--,a project for separate examinations4 ,what ,i am going to say will seem very strange to you1 and is not unlikely to arouse as much professional animosity as you are capable of feeling against an old friend4 ,you who are a dignitary of the ,university1 and have earned your various titles in a fair field1 as a soldier wins his epaulettes before the enemy1 are not the likeliest person to hear with patience the unauthorized theories of an innovator4 ,take them1 then1 as mere speculations1 if you will--not altogether unworthy of consideration1 for they are suggested by a sincere anxiety for the best interests of learning1 and yet not very dangerous to vested interests of any kind1 since they can have little influence on the practice or opinion of the world4 ,i feel a great dread of what may be called protection in intellectual pursuits4 ,it seems to me that when the ,government of a country applies an artificial stimulus to certain branches of study for their encouragement by the offer of rewards in honor or in money beyond the rewards inherent in the studies themselves1 or coming naturally from their usefulness to mankind1 there is a great danger that men may give a disproportionate attention to those favored branches of study4 ,let me take an example from the practice of the ,fine ,arts4 ,a ,government1 by medals and crosses1 or by money1 can easily create and foster a school of painting which is entirely out of relation to the century in which it exists1 and quite incapable of working harmoniously with the contemporary national life4 ,this has actually been done to a considerable extent in various countries1 especially in ,france and in ,bavaria4 ,a sort of classicism which had scarcely any foundation in sincerity of feeling was kept up artificially by a system of encouragement which offered inducements outside the genuine ambition of an artist4 ,the true enthusiasm which is the life of art impels the artist to express his own feeling for the delight of others4 ,the offer of a medal or a pension induces him to make the sort of picture which is likely to satisfy the authorities4 ,he first ascertains what is according to the rule1 and then follows it as nearly as he is able4 ,he works in a temper of simple conformity1 remote indeed from the passionate enthusiasm of creation4 ,it is so with prize poems4 ,we all know the sort of poetry which is composed in order to gain prizes4 ,the anxiety of the versifier is to be safe3 he tries to compose what will escape censure2 he dreads the originality that may give offence4 ,but all powerful pictures and poems have been wrought in the energy of individual feeling1 not in conformity to a pattern4 ,now1 suppose that1 instead of encouraging poetry or painting1 a ,government resolves to encourage learning4 ,it will patronize certain pursuits to the neglect of others1 or it will encourage certain pursuits more liberally than others4 ,the subjects of such a ,government will not follow learning exclusively for its delightfulness or its utility2 another consideration will affect their choice4 ,they will inquire which pursuits are rewarded by prizes in honor or money1 and they will be strongly tempted to select them4 ,therefore1 unless the ,government has exercised extraordinary wisdom1 men will learn what they do not really care for and may never practically want1 merely in order to win some academical grade4 ,so soon as this object has been attained1 they will immediately abandon the studies by which they attained it4 ,can it be said that in these cases the purposes of the ,government were fulfilled8 ,clearly not1 if it desired to form a permanent taste for learning4 ,but it may have done worse than fail in this merely negative way2 it may have diverted its youth from pursuits to which ,nature called them1 and in which they might have effectually aided the advancement and the prosperity of the ,state4 ,let us suppose that a ,government were to have a pet study1 and offer great artificial inducements for success in it4 ,suppose that the pet study were entomology4 ,all the most promising youth of the country would spend ten years in emulating ,messrs4 ,kirby and ,spence1 and take their degrees as entomological bachelors4 ,but might it not easily happen that to a majority of the young gentlemen this pursuit would have acted positively as a hindrance by keeping them from other pursuits more likely to help them in their professions8 ,it would not only cost a great deal of valuable time1 it would absorb a quantity of youthful energy which the country can ill afford to lose4 ,the ,government would probably affirm that entomology1 if not always practically useful in itself1 was an invaluable intellectual training2 but what if this training used up the early vigor which might be needed for other pursuits1 and of which every human being has only a limited supply8 ,we should be told1 no doubt1 that this powerful encouragement was necessary to the advancement of science1 and it is true that under such a system the rudiments of entomology would be more generally known4 ,but the vulgarization of rudiments is not the advancement of knowledge4 ,entomology has gone quite as far in discovery1 though pursued simply for its own sake1 as it would have gone if it had been made necessary to a bachelor's degree4 ,you will ask whether ,i would go so far as to abolish degrees of all kinds1 ,certainly not2 that is not my project4 ,but ,i believe that no ,government is competent to make a selection amongst intellectual pursuits and say1 ,this or that pursuit shall be encouraged by university degrees1 whilst other pursuits of intellectual men shall have no encouragement whatever4 ,i may mention by name your present autocrat of ,public ,instruction1 ,jules ,simon4 ,he is a literary man of some eminence2 he has written several interesting books1 and on the whole he is probably more competent to deal with these questions than many of his predecessors4 ,but however capable a man may be1 he is sure to be biassed by the feeling common to all intellectual men which attributes a peculiar importance to their own pursuits4 ,i do not like to see any ,minister1 or any ,cabinet of ,ministers1 settling what all the young men of a country are to learn under penalty of exclusion from all the liberal professions4 ,what ,i should think more reasonable would be some such arrangement as the following4 ,there might be a board of thoroughly competent examiners for each branch of study separately1 authorized to confer certificates of competence4 ,when a man believed himself to have mastered a branch of study1 he would go and try to get a certificate for that4 ,the various studies would then be followed according to the public sense of their importance1 and would fall quite naturally into the rank which they ought to occupy at any given period of the national history4 ,these separate examinations should be severe enough to ensure a serviceable degree of proficiency4 ,nobody should be allowed to teach anything who had not got a certificate for the particular thing he intended to profess4 ,in the confusion of your present system1 not only do you fail to insure the thoroughness of pupils1 but the teachers themselves are too frequently incompetent in some speciality which accidentally fails to their share4 ,i think that a ,greek master ought to be a complete ,hellenist1 but surely it is not necessary that he should be half a mathematician4 ,to sum up4 ,it seems to me that a ,government has no business to favor some intellectual pursuits more than others1 but that it ought to recognize competent attainment in every one of them by a sort of diploma or certificate1 leaving the relative rank of different pursuits to be settled by public opinion4 ,and as to the educators themselves1 ,i think that when a man has proved his competence in one thing1 he ought to be allowed to teach that one thing in the ,university without being required to pass an examination in any other thing4 ,,letter ,,vii4 ,,to ,,the ,,principal ,,of ,a ,,french ,,college4 ,loss of time to acquire an ancient language too imperfectly for it to be useful--,dr4 ,arnold--,mature life leaves little time for culture--,modern indifference to ancient thinking--,larger experience of the moderns--,the moderns older than the ancients--,the ,author's regret that ,latin has ceased to be a living language--,the shortest way to learn to read a language--,the recent interest in modern languages--,a ,french student of ,hebrew4 ,i was happy to learn your opinion of the reform so recently introduced by the ,minister of ,public ,instruction1 and the more so that ,i was glad to find the views of so inexperienced a person as myself confirmed by your wider knowledge4 ,you went even farther than ,m4 ,jules ,simon1 for you openly expressed a desire for the complete withdrawal of ,greek from the ordinary school curriculum4 ,not that you undervalue ,greek1--no one of your scholarship would be likely to undervalue a great literature1--but you thought it a loss of time to acquire a language so imperfectly that the literature still remained practically closed whilst thousands of valuable hours had been wasted on the details of grammar4 ,the truth is1 that although the principle of beginning many things in school education with the idea that the pupil will in maturer life pursue them to fuller accomplishment may in some instances be justified by the prolonged studies of men who have a natural taste for erudition1 it is idle to shut one's eyes to the fact that most men have no inclination for school-work after they have left school1 and if they had the inclination they have not the time4 ,our own ,dr4 ,arnold1 the model ,english schoolmaster1 said1 ,it is so hard to begin anything in after-life1 and so comparatively easy to continue what has been begun1 that ,i think we are bound to break ground1 as it were1 into several of the mines of knowledge with our pupils2 that the first difficulties may be overcome by them whilst there is yet a power from without to aid their own faltering resolution1 and that so they may be enabled1 if they will1 to go on with the study hereafter4 ,the principle here expressed is no doubt one of the important principles of all early education1 and yet ,i think that it cannot be safely followed without taking account of human nature1 such as it is4 ,everything hangs on that little parenthesis if they will4 ,and if they will not1 how then8 ,the time spent in breaking the ground has been wasted1 except so far as the exercise of breaking the ground may have been useful in mental gymnastics4 ,mature life brings so many professional or social duties that it leaves scant time for culture2 and those who care for culture most earnestly and sincerely1 are the very persons who will economize time to the utmost4 ,now1 to read a language that has been very imperfectly mastered is felt to be a bad economy of time4 ,suppose the case of a man occupied in business who has studied ,greek rather assiduously in youth and yet not enough to read it with facility4 ,suppose that this man wants to get at the mind of ,plato4 ,he can read the original1 but he reads it so slowly that it would cost him more hours than he can spare1 and this is why he has recourse to a translation4 ,in this case there is no indifference to ,greek culture2 on the contrary1 the reader desires to assimilate what he can of it1 but the very earnestness of his wish to have free access to ancient thought makes him prefer it in modern language4 ,this is the most favorable instance that can be imagined1 except1 of course1 those exceedingly rare cases where a man has leisure enough1 and enthusiasm enough1 to become a ,hellenist4 ,the great majority of our contemporaries do not care for ancient thought at all1 it is so remote from them1 it belongs to conditions of civilization so different from their own1 it is encumbered with so many lengthy discussions of questions which have been settled by the subsequent experience of the world1 that the modern mind prefers to occupy itself with its own anxieties and its own speculations4 ,it is a great error to suppose that indifference to ancient thinking is peculiar to the spirit of ,philistinism2 for the most cultivated contemporary intellects seek light from each other rather than from the ancients4 ,one of the most distinguished of modern thinkers1 a scholar of the rarest classical attainments1 said to me in reference to some scheme of mine for renewing my classical studies1 that they would be of no more use to me than numismatics4 ,it is this feeling1 the feeling that ,greek speculation is of less consequence to the modern world than ,german and ,french speculation1 which causes so many of us1 rightly or wrongly1 to regard it as a palontological curiosity1 interesting for those who are curious as to the past of the human mind1 but not likely to be influential upon its future4 ,this estimate of ancient thinking is not often expressed quite so openly as ,i have just expressed it1 and yet it is very generally prevalent even amongst the most thoughtful people1 especially if modern science has had any conspicuous influence in the formation of their minds4 ,tho truth is1 as ,sydney ,smith observed many years ago1 that there is a confusion of language in the use of the word ancient4 ,we say the ancients1 as if they were older and more experienced men than we are1 whereas the age and experience are entirely on our side4 ,they were the clever children1 and we only are the white-bearded1 silver-headed ancients1 who have treasured up1 and are prepared to profit by1 all the experience which human life can supply4 ,the sense of our larger experience1 as it grows in us and becomes more distinctly conscious1 produces a corresponding decline in our feelings of reverence for classic times4 ,the past has bequeathed to us its results1 and we have incorporated them into our own edifice1 but we have used them rather as materials than as models4 ,in your practical desire to retain in education only what is likely to be used1 you are willing to preserve ,latin4 ,m4 ,jules ,simon says that ,latin ought to be studied only to be read4 ,on this point permit me to offer an observation4 ,the one thing ,i regret about ,latin is that we have ceased to speak it4 ,the natural method1 and by far the most rapid and sure method of learning a language1 is to begin by acquiring words in order to use them to ask for what we want2 after that we acquire other words for narration and the expression of our sentiments4 ,by far the shortest way to learn to read a language is to begin by speaking it4 ,the colloquial tongue is the basis of the literary tongue4 ,this is so true that with all the pains and trouble you give to the ,latin education of your pupils1 you cannot teach them as much ,latin1 for reading only1 in the course of ten years1 as a living foreigner will give them of his own language in ten months4 ,i seriously believe that if your object is to make boys read ,latin easily1 you begin at the wrong end4 ,it is deplorable that the learned should ever have allowed ,latin to become a dead language1 since in permitting this they have enormously increased the difficulty of acquiring it1 even for the purposes of scholarship4 ,no foreigner who knows the ,french people will disapprove of the novel desire to know the modern languages1 which has been one of the most unexpected consequences of the war4 ,their extreme ignorance of the literature of other nations has been the cause of enormous evils4 ,notwithstanding her central position1 ,france has been a very isolated country intellectually1 much more isolated than ,england1 more isolated even than ,transylvania1 where foreign literatures are familiar to the cultivated classes4 ,this isolation has produced very lamentable effects1 not only on the national culture but most especially on the national character4 ,no modern nation1 however important1 can safely remain in ignorance of its contemporaries4 ,the ,frenchman was like a gentleman shut up within his own park-wall1 having no intercourse with his neighbors1 and reading nothing but the history of his own ancestors--for the ,romans were your ancestors1 intellectually4 ,it is only by the study of living languages1 and their continual use1 that we can learn our true place in the world4 ,a ,frenchman was studying ,hebrew2 ,i ventured to suggest that ,german might possibly be more useful4 ,to this he answered1 that there was no literature in ,german4 ,vous avez ,goethe1 vous avez ,schiller1 et vous avez ,lessing1 mais en dehors de ces trois noms il n'y a rien4 ,this meant simply that my student of ,hebrew measured ,german literature by his own knowledge of it4 ,three names had reached him1 only names1 and only three of them4 ,as to the men who were unknown to him he had decided that they did not exist4 ,certainly if there are many ,frenchmen in this condition1 it is time that they learned a little ,german4 ,,letter ,,viii4 ,,to ,a ,,student ,,of ,,modern ,,languages4 ,standard of attainment in living languages higher than in ancient ones--,difficulty of maintaining high pretensions--,prevalent illusion about the facility of modern languages--,easy to speak them badly--,some propositions based upon experience--,expectations and disappointments4 ,had your main purpose in the education of yourself 7,i do not say self-education1 for you wisely accept all help from others7 been the attainment of classical scholarship1 ,i might have observed that as the received standard in that kind of learning is not a very elevated one1 you might reasonably hope to reach it with a certain calculable quantity of effort4 ,the classical student has only to contend against other students who are and have been situated very much as he is situated himself4 ,they have learned ,latin and ,greek from grammars and dictionaries as he is learning them1 and the only natural advantages which any of his predecessors may have possessed are superiorities of memory which may be compensated by his greater perseverance1 or superiorities of sympathy to which he may level up by that acquired and artificial interest which comes from protracted application4 ,but the student of modern languages has to contend against advantages of situation1 as the gardeners of an inhospitable climate contend against the natural sunshine of the south4 ,how easy it is to have a fruitful date-tree in ,arabia1 how difficult in ,england6 ,how easy for the ,florentine to speak ,italian1 how difficult for us6 ,the modern linguist can never fence himself behind that stately unquestionableness which shields the classical scholar4 ,his knowledge may at any time be put to the severest of all tests1 to a test incomparably more severe than the strictest university examination4 ,the first native that he meets is his examiner1 the first foreign city is his ,oxford4 ,and this is probably one reason why accomplishment in modern languages has been rather a matter of utility than of dignity1 for it is difficult to keep up great pretensions in the face of a multitude of critics4 ,what would the most learned-looking gown avail1 if a malicious foreigner were laughing at us8 ,but there is a deep satisfaction in the severity of the test4 ,an honest and courageous student likes to be clearly aware of the exact value of his acquisitions4 ,he takes his ,french to ,paris and has it tested there as we take our plate to the silversmith1 and after that he knows1 or may know1 quite accurately what it is worth4 ,he has not the dignity of scholarship1 he is not held to be a learned man1 but he has acquired something which may be of daily use to him in society1 or in commerce1 or in literature2 and there are thousands of educated natives who can accurately estimate his attainment and help him to a higher perfection4 ,all this is deeply satisfying to a lover of intellectual realities4 ,the modern linguist is always on firm ground1 and in broad daylight4 ,he may impede his own progress by the illusions of solitary self-conceit1 but the atmosphere outside is not favorable to such illusions4 ,it is well for him that the temptations to charlatanism are so few1 that the risks of exposure are so frequent4 ,still there are illusions1 and the commonest of them is that a modern language may be very easily mastered4 ,there is a popular idea that ,french is easy1 that ,italian is easy1 that ,german is more difficult1 yet by no means insuperably difficult4 ,it is believed that when an ,englishman has spent all the best years of his youth in attempting to learn ,latin and ,greek1 he may acquire one or two modern languages with little effort during a brief residence on the ,continent4 ,it is certainly true that we may learn any number of foreign languages so as to speak them badly1 but it surely cannot be easy to speak them well4 ,it may be inferred that this is not easy because the accomplishment is so rare4 ,the inducements are common1 the accomplishment is rare4 ,thousands of ,english people have very strong reasons for learning ,french1 thousands of ,french people could improve their position by learning ,english2 but rare indeed are the men and women who know both languages thoroughly4 ,the following propositions1 based on much observation of a kind wholly unprejudiced and tested by a not inconsiderable experience will be found1 ,i believe1 unassailable4 #a4 ,whenever a foreign language is perfectly acquired there are peculiar family conditions4 ,the person has either married a person of the other nation1 or is of mixed blood4 #b4 ,when a foreign language has been acquired 7there are instances of this7 in quite absolute perfection1 there is almost always some loss in the native tongue4 ,either the native tongue is not spoken correctly1 or it is not spoken with perfect ease4 #c4 ,a man sometimes speaks two languages correctly1 his father's and his mother's1 or his own and his wife's1 but never three4 #d4 ,children can speak several languages exactly like natives1 but in succession1 never simultaneously4 ,they forget the first in acquiring the second1 and so on4 #e4 ,a language cannot be learned by an adult without five years' residence in the country where it is spoken1 and without habits of close observation a residence of twenty years is insufficient4 ,this is not encouraging1 but it is the truth4 ,happily1 a knowledge which falls far short of mastery may be of much practical use in the common affairs of life1 and may even afford some initiation into foreign literatures4 ,i do not argue that because perfection is denied of us by the circumstances of our lives or the necessities of our organization we are therefore to abandon the study to every language but the mother tongue4 ,it may be of use to us to know several languages imperfectly1 if only we confess the hopelessness of absolute attainment4 ,that which is truly1 and deeply1 and seriously an injury to our intellectual life1 is the foolishness of the too common vanity which first deludes itself with childish expectations and then tortures itself with late regret for failure which might have been easily foreseen4 ,,letter ,,ix4 ,,to ,a ,,student ,,of ,,modern ,,languages4 ,cases known to the ,author--,opinion of an ,english linguist--,family conditions--,an ,englishman who lived forty years in ,france--,influence of children--,an ,italian in ,france--,displacement of one language by another4 ,english lady married to a ,frenchman--,an ,italian in ,garibaldi's army--,corruption of languages by the uneducated when they learn more than one--,neapolitan servant of an ,english gentleman--,a ,scotch servant-woman--,the author's eldest boy--,substitution of one language for another--,in mature life we lose facility--,the resisting power of adults--,seen in international marriages--,case of a retired ,english officer--,two ,germans in ,france--,germans in ,london--,the innocence of the ear--,imperfect attainment of little intellectual use--,too many languages attempted in education--,polyglot waiters--,indirect benefits4 ,my five propositions about learning modern languages appear from your answer to have rather surprised you1 and you ask for some instances in illustration4 ,i am aware that my last letter was dogmatic1 so let me begin by begging your pardon for its dogmatism4 ,the present communication may steer clear of that rock of offence1 for it shall confine itself to an account of cases that ,i have known4 ,one of the most accomplished of ,english linguists remarked to me that after much observation of the labors of others1 and a fair estimate of his own1 he had come to the rather discouraging conclusion that it was not possible to learn a foreign language4 ,he did not take account of the one exceptional class of cases where the family conditions make the use of two languages habitual4 ,the most favorable family conditions are not in themselves sufficient to ensure the acquisition of a language1 but wherever an instance of perfect acquisition is to be found1 these family conditions are always found along with it4 ,my friend ,w41 an ,english artist living in ,paris1 speaks ,french with quite absolute accuracy as to grammar and choice of expression1 and with accuracy of pronunciation so nearly absolute that the best ,french ears can detect nothing wrong but the pronunciation of the letter r4 ,he has lived in ,france for the space of forty years1 but it may be doubted whether in forty years he could have mastered the language as he has done if he had not married a native4 ,french has been his home language for #cj years and more1 and the perfect ease and naturalness of his diction are due to the powerful home influences1 especially to the influence of children4 ,a child is born that speaks the foreign tongue from the first inarticulate beginnings ,it makes its own child language1 and the father as he hears it is born over again in the foreign land by tender paternal sympathy4 ,gradually the sweet child-talk gives place to the perfect tongue and the father follows it by insensible gradations1 himself the most docile of pupils1 led onward rather than instructed by the winning and playful little master1 incomparably the best of masters4 ,the process here is nature's own inimitable process4 ,every new child that is born to a man so situated carries him through a repetition of that marvellous course of teaching4 ,the language grows in his brain from the first rudiments--the real natural rudiments1 not the hard rudiments of the grammarian--just as plants grow naturally from their seeds4 ,it has not been built by human processes of piecing together1 but has developed itself like a living creature4 ,this way of learning a language possesses over the dictionary process exactly the kind of superiority which a living man1 developed naturally from the foetus1 possesses over the elastic anatomical man-model of the ingenious doctor ,auzoux4 ,the doctor's models are remarkably perfect in construction1 they have all the organs1 but they have not life4 ,when1 however1 this natural process of growth is allowed to go forward without watchful care1 it is likely to displace the mother tongue4 ,it is sometimes affirmed that the impressions of childhood are never effaced1 that the mother tongue is never forgotten4 ,it may be that it is never wholly forgotten1 except in the case of young children1 but it may become so imperfect as to be practically of little use4 ,i knew an ,italian who came to ,france as a young man and learned his profession there4 ,he was afterwards naturalized1 married a ,french lady1 had several children1 pursued a very successful career in ,paris1 and became ultimately ,french ,ambassador at the court of ,victor ,emmanuel4 ,his ,french was so perfect that it was quite impossible for any one to detect the usual ,italian accents4 ,i used to count him as a remarkable and almost solitary instance of a man speaking two languages in their perfection1 but ,i learned since then that his ,french had displaced his ,italian1 and so completely that he was quite unable to speak ,italian correctly1 and made use of ,french invariably when in ,italy4 ,the risk of this displacement is always greatest in cases where the native tongue is not kept up by means of literature4 ,byron and ,shelley1 or our contemporary ,charles ,lever1 would run little risk of losing ,english by continental residence1 but people not accustomed to reading and writing often forget the mother tongue in a few years1 even when the foreign one which has displaced it is still in a state of imperfection4 ,madame ,l4 is an ,english lady who married a ,frenchman2 neither her husband nor her children speak ,english1 and as her relatives live in one of our most distant colonies1 she has been separated from them for many years4 ,isolated thus from ,english society1 living in a part of ,france rarely visited by her countrymen1 never reading ,english1 and writing it little and at long intervals1 she speaks it now with much difficulty and diffidence4 ,her ,french is not grammatical1 though she has lived for many years with people who speak grammatically2 but then her ,french is fluent and alive1 truly her own living language now1 whilst ,english is1 if not wholly forgotten1 dead almost as our ,latin is dead4 ,she and ,i always speak ,french together when we meet1 because it is easier for her than ,english1 and a more natural expression4 ,i have known some other cases of displacement of the native tongue1 and have lately had the opportunity of watching a case of such displacement during its progress4 ,a sergeant in the ,italian army deserted to join ,garibaldi in the campaign of #ahgj4 ,on the conclusion of peace it was impossible for him to return to ,italy1 so he settled in ,france and married there4 ,i found some work for him1 and for some months saw him frequently4 ,up to the date of his marriage he spoke no language but ,italian1 which he could read and write correctly1 but after his marriage the process of displacement of the native tongue began immediately by the corruption of it4 ,he did not keep his ,italian safely by itself1 putting the ,french in a place of its own as he gradually acquired it1 but he mixed the two inextricably together4 ,imagine the case of a man who1 having a bottle half full of wine1 gets some beer given him and pours it immediately into the wine-bottle4 ,the beer will never be pure beer1 but it will effectually spoil the wine4 ,this process is not so much one of displacement as of corruption1 it takes place readily in uncultivated minds1 with feeble separating powers4 ,another example of this was a ,neapolitan servant of an ,english gentleman1 who mixed his ,italian twice1 first with ,french and afterwards with ,english1 producing a compound intelligible to nobody but himself1 if indeed he himself understood it4 ,at the time ,i knew him1 the man had no means of communication with his species4 ,when his master told him to do anything1 he made a guess at what was likely to be for the moment his master's most probable want1 and sometimes hit the mark1 but more generally missed it4 ,the man's name was ,alberino1 and ,i remember on one occasion profiting by a mistaken guess of his4 ,after a visit to ,alberino's master1 my servant brought forth a magnificent basket of trout1 which surprised me1 as nothing had been said about them4 ,however1 we ate them1 and only discovered afterwards that the present was due to an illusion of ,alberino's4 ,his master had never told him to give me the trout1 but he had interpreted some other order in that sense4 ,when you asked him for mustard1 he would first touch the salt1 and then the pepper1 etc41 looking at you inquiringly till you nodded assent4 ,any attempt at conversation with ,alberino was sure to lead to a perfect comedy of misunderstandings4 ,he never had the remotest idea of what his interlocutor was talking about2 but he pretended to catch your meaning1 and answered at haphazard4 ,he had a habit of talking aloud to himself1 but in a tongue no man could understand4 ,it is a law that cultivated people can keep languages apart1 and in their purity1 better than persons who have not habits of intellectual analysis4 ,when ,i lived in ,scotland three languages were spoken in my house all day long1 and a housemaid came to us from the ,lowlands who spoke nothing but ,lowland ,scotch4 ,she used to ask what was the ,french for this thing or that1 and then what was the ,gaelic for it4 ,having been answered1 she invariably asked the farther question which of the three words1 ,french1 ,gaelic1 or ,english1 was the right word4 ,she remained1 to the last1 entirely incapable of conceiving how all the three could be right4 ,had she learned another language1 it must have been by substitution for her own4 ,this is exactly the natural process which takes place in the brains of children who are transferred from one country to another4 ,my eldest boy spoke ,english in childhood as well as any other ,english child of his age4 ,he was taken to the south of ,france1 and in three months he replaced his ,english with ,provenal1 which he learned from the servants about him4 ,there were two ladies in the house who spoke ,english well1 and did all in their power1 in compliance with my urgent entreaties1 to preserve the boy's native language2 but the substitution took place too rapidly1 and was beyond control4 ,he began by an unwillingness to use ,english words whenever he could use ,provenal instead1 and in a remarkably short time this unwillingness was succeeded by inability4 ,the native language was as completely taken out of his brain as a violin is taken out of its case3 nothing remained1 nothing1 not one word1 not any echo of an accent4 ,and as a violinist may put a new instrument into the case from which he has removed the old one1 so the new language occupied the whole space which had been occupied by ,english4 ,when ,i saw the child again1 there was no means of communication between us4 ,after that1 he was removed to the north of ,france1 and the same process began again4 ,as ,provenal had pushed out ,english1 so ,french began to push out ,provenal4 ,the process was wonderfully rapid4 ,the child heard people speak ,french1 and he began to speak ,french like them without any formal teaching4 ,he spoke the language as he breathed the air4 ,in a few weeks he did not retain the least remnant of his ,provenal2 it was gone after his ,english into the limbo of the utterly forgotten4 ,novelists have occasionally made use of cases similar to this1 but they speak of the forgotten language as being forgotten in the manner that ,scott forgot the manuscript of ,waverley1 which he found afterwards in the drawers of an old writing-desk when he was seeking for fishing-tackle4 ,they assume 7conveniently for the purposes of their art7 that the first language we learn is never really lost1 but may be as it were under certain circumstances mislaid1 to be found again at some future period4 ,now1 although something of this kind may be possible when the first language has been spoken in rather advanced boyhood1 ,i am convinced that in childhood a considerable number of languages might succeed each other without leaving any trace whatever4 ,i might have remarked that in addition to ,english1 ,provenal1 and ,french1 my boy had understood ,gaelic in his infancy1 at least to some extent1 though he did not speak it4 ,the languages in his case succeeded each other without any cost of effort1 and without any appreciable effect on health4 ,the pronunciation of each language was quite faultless so far as foreign accent went2 the child had the defects of children1 but of children born in the different countries where he lived4 ,as we grow older this facility of acquisition gradually leaves us4 ,m4 ,philarte ,chasles says that it is quite impossible for any adult to learn ,german3 an adult may learn ,german as ,dr4 ,arnold did for purposes of erudition1 for which it is enough to know a language as we know ,latin1 but this is not mastery4 ,you have met with many foreign residents in ,england1 who after staying in the country for many years can barely make themselves intelligible1 and must certainly be incapable of appreciating those beauties of our literature which are dependent upon arrangements of sound4 ,the resisting power of the adult brain is quite as remarkable as the assimilating power of the immature brain4 ,a child hears a sound1 and repeats it with perfect accuracy2 a man hears a sound1 and by way of imitation utters something altogether different1 being nevertheless persuaded that it is at least a close and satisfactory approximation4 ,children imitate well1 but adults badly1 and the acquisition of languages depends mainly on imitation4 ,the resisting power of adults is often seen very remarkably in international marriages4 ,in those classes of society where there is not much culture1 or leisure or disposition for culture1 the one will not learn the other's language from opportunity or from affection1 but only under absolute necessity4 ,it seems as if two people living always together would gain each other's languages as a matter of course1 but the fact is that they do not4 ,french people who marry foreigners do not usually acquire the foreign language if the pair remain in ,france2 ,english people under similar conditions make the attempt more frequently1 but they rest contented with imperfect attainment4 ,if the power of resistance is so great in people who being wedded together for life have peculiarly strong inducements for learning each other's languages1 it need surprise us little to find a like power of resistance in cases where motives of affection are altogether absent4 ,englishmen who go to ,france as adults1 and settle there1 frequently remain for many years in a state of half-knowledge which1 though it may carry them through the little difficulties of life at railway stations and restaurants1 is for any intellectual purpose of no conceivable utility4 ,i knew a retired ,english officer1 a bachelor1 who for many years had lived in ,paris without any intention of returning to ,england4 ,his ,french just barely carried him through the small transactions of his daily life1 but was so limited and so incorrect that he could not maintain a conversation4 ,his vocabulary was very meagre2 his genders were all wrong1 and he did not know one single verb1 literally not one4 ,his pronunciation was so foreign as to be very nearly unintelligible1 and he hesitated so much that it was painful to have to listen to him4 ,i could mention a celebrated ,german1 who has lived in or near ,paris for the last twenty years1 and who can neither speak nor write the language with any approach to accuracy4 ,another ,german1 who settled in ,france as a master of languages1 wrote ,french tolerably1 but spoke it intolerably4 ,there are ,germans in ,london1 who have lived there long enough to have families and make fortunes1 yet who continue to repeat the ordinary ,german faults of pronunciation1 the same faults which they committed years ago1 when first they landed on our shores4 ,the child hears and repeats the true sound1 the adult misleads himself by the spelling4 ,seldom indeed can the adult recover the innocence of the ear4 ,it is like the innocence of the eye1 which has to be recovered before we can paint from nature1 and which belongs only to infancy and to art4 ,let me observe1 in conclusion1 that although to know a foreign language perfectly is a most valuable aid to the intellectual life1 ,i have never known an instance of very imperfect attainment which seemed to enrich the student intellectually4 ,until you can really feel the refinements of a language1 your mental culture can get little help or furtherance from it of any kind1 nothing but an interminable series of misunderstandings4 ,i think that in the education of our boys too many languages are attempted1 and that their minds would profit more by the perfect acquisition of a single language in addition to the native tongue4 ,this1 of course1 is looking at the matter simply from the intellectual point of view4 ,there may be practical reasons for knowing several languages imperfectly4 ,it may be of use to many men in commercial situations to know a little of several languages1 even a few words and phrases are valuable to a traveller1 but all intellectual labor of the higher kind requires much more than that4 ,it is of use to society that there should be polyglot waiters who can tell us when the train starts in four or five languages2 but the polyglot waiters themselves are not intellectually advanced by their accomplishment2 for1 after all1 the facts of the railway time-table are always the same small facts1 in however many languages they may be announced4 ,true culture ought to strengthen the faculty of thinking1 and to provide the material upon which that noble faculty may operate4 ,an accomplishment which does neither of these two things for us is useless for our culture1 though it may be of considerable practical convenience in the affairs of ordinary life4 ,it is right to add1 however1 that there is sometimes an indirect intellectual benefit from such accomplishments4 ,to be able to order dinner in ,spanish is not in itself an intellectual advantage2 but if the dinner1 when you have eaten it1 enables you to visit a cathedral whose architecture you are qualified to appreciate1 there is a clear intellectual gain1 though an indirect one4 ,,letter ,x4 ,,to ,a ,,student ,,who ,,lamented ,,his ,,defective ,,memory4 ,the author rather inclined to congratulation than to condolence--,value of a selecting memory--,studies of the young ,goethe--,his great faculty of assimilation--,a good literary memory like a well-edited periodical--,the selecting memory in art--,treacherous memories--,cures suggested for them--,the mnemotechnic art contrary to the true discipline of the mind--,two instances--,the memory safely aided only by right association4 ,so far from writing1 as you seem to expect me to do1 a letter of condolence on the subject of what you are pleased to call your miserable memory1 ,i feel disposed rather to indite a letter of congratulation4 ,it is possible that you may be blessed with a selecting memory1 which is not only useful for what it retains but for what it rejects4 ,in the immense mass of facts which come before you in literature and in life1 it is well that you should suffer from as little bewilderment as possible4 ,the nature of your memory saves you from this by unconsciously selecting what has interested you1 and letting the rest go by4 ,what interests you is what concerns you4 ,in saying this ,i speak simply from the intellectual point of view1 and suppose you to be an intellectual man by the natural organization of your brain1 to begin with4 ,in saying that what interests you is what concerns you1 ,i mean intellectually1 not materially4 ,it may concern you1 in the pecuniary sense1 to take an interest in the law2 yet your mind1 left to itself1 would take little or no interest in law1 but an absorbing interest in botany4 ,the passionate studies of the young ,goethe1 in many different directions1 always in obedience to the predominant interests of the moment1 are the best example of the way in which a great intellect1 with remarkable powers of acquisition and liberty to grow in free luxuriance1 sends its roots into various soils and draws from them the constituents of its sap4 ,as a student of law1 as a university student even1 he was not of the type which parents and professors consider satisfactory4 ,he neglected jurisprudence1 he neglected even his college studies1 but took an interest in so many other pursuits that his mind became rich indeed4 ,yet the wealth which his mind acquired seems to have been due to that liberty of ranging by which it was permitted to him to seek his own everywhere1 according to the maxim of ,french law1 chacun prend son bien o il le trouve4 ,had he been a poor student1 bound down to the exclusively legal studies1 which did not greatly interest him1 it is likely that no one would ever have suspected his immense faculty of assimilation4 ,in this way men who are set by others to load their memories with what is not their proper intellectual food1 never get the credit of having any memory at all1 and end by themselves believing that they have none4 ,these bad memories are often the best1 they are often the selecting memories4 ,they seldom win distinction in examinations1 but in literature and art4 ,they are quite incomparably superior to the miscellaneous memories that receive only as boxes and drawers receive what is put into them4 ,a good literary or artistic memory is not like a post-office that takes in everything1 but like a very well-edited periodical which prints nothing that does not harmonize with its intellectual life4 ,a well-known author gave me this piece of advice3 ,take as many notes as you like1 but when you write do not look at them--what you remember is what you must write1 and you ought to give things exactly the degree of relative importance that they have in your memory4 ,if you forget much1 it is well1 it will only save beforehand the labor of erasure4 ,this advice would not be suitable to every author2 an author who dealt much in minute facts ought to be allowed to refer to his memoranda2 but from the artistic point of view in literature the advice was wise indeed4 ,in painting1 our preferences select whilst we are in the presence of nature1 and our memory selects when we are away from nature4 ,the most beautiful compositions are produced by the selecting office of the memory1 which retains some features1 and even greatly exaggerates them1 whilst it diminishes others and often altogether omits them4 ,an artist who blamed himself for these exaggerations and omissions would blame himself for being an artist4 ,let me add a protest against the common methods of curing what are called treacherous memories4 ,they are generally founded upon the association of ideas1 which is so far rational1 but then the sort of association which they have recourse to is unnatural1 and produces precisely the sort of disorder which would be produced in dress if a man were insane enough to tie1 let us say1 a frying-pan to one of his coat-tails and a child's kite to the other4 ,the true discipline of the mind is to be effected only by associating those things together which have a real relation of some kind1 and the profounder the relation1 the more it is based upon the natural constitution of things1 and the less it concerns trifling external details1 the better will be the order of the intellect4 ,the mnemotechnic art wholly disregards this1 and is therefore unsuited for intellectual persons1 though it may be of some practical use in ordinary life4 ,a little book on memory1 of which many editions have been sold1 suggests to men who forget their umbrellas that they ought always to associate the image of an umbrella with that of an open door1 so that they could never leave any house without thinking of one4 ,but would it not be preferable to lose two or three guineas annually rather than see a spectral umbrella in every doorway8 ,the same writer suggests an idea which appears even more objectionable4 ,because we are apt to lose time1 we ought1 he says1 to imagine a skeleton clock-face on the visage of every man we talk with2 that is to say1 we ought systematically to set about producing in our brains an absurd association of ideas1 which is quite closely allied to one of the most common forms of insanity4 ,it is better to forget umbrellas and lose hours than fill our minds with associations of a kind which every disciplined intellect does all it can to get rid of4 ,the rational art of memory is that used in natural science4 ,we remember anatomy and botany because1 although the facts they teach are infinitely numerous1 they are arranged according to the constructive order of nature4 ,unless there were a clear relation between the anatomy of one animal and that of others1 the memory would refuse to burden itself with the details of their structure4 ,so in the study of languages we learn several languages by perceiving their true structural relations1 and remembering these4 ,association of this kind1 and the maintenance of order in the mind1 are the only arts of memory compatible with the right government of the intellect4 ,incongruous1 and even superficial associations ought to be systematically discouraged1 and we ought to value the negative or rejecting power of the memory4 ,the finest intellects are as remarkable for the ease with which they resist and throw off what does not concern them as for the permanence with which their own truths engrave themselves4 ,they are like clear glass1 which fluoric acid etches indelibly1 but which comes out of vitriol intact4 ,,letter ,,xi4 ,,to ,a ,,master ,,of ,,arts ,,who ,,said ,,that ,a ,,certain ,,distinguished ,,painter ,,was ,,half-,,educated4 ,conventional idea about the completeness of education--,the estimate of a schoolmaster--,no one can be fully educated--,even ,leonardo da ,vinci fell short of the complete expression of his faculties--,the word education used in two different senses--,the acquisition of knowledge--,who are the learned8--,quotation from ,sydney ,smith--,what a half-educated painter had learned--,what faculties he had developed4 ,an intelligent lady was lamenting to me the other day that when she heard anything she did not quite agree with1 it only set her thinking1 and did not suggest any immediate reply4 ,three hours afterwards1 she added1 ,i arrive at the answer which ought to have been given1 but then it is exactly three hours too late4 ,being afflicted with precisely the same pitiable infirmity1 ,i said nothing in reply to a statement you made yesterday evening at dinner1 but it occupied me in the hansom as it rolled between the monotonous lines of houses1 and followed me even into my bed-room4 ,i should like to answer it this morning1 as one answers a letter4 ,you said that our friend the painter was half-educated4 ,this made me try to understand what it is to be three-quarters educated1 and seven-eighths educated1 and finally what must be that quite perfect state of the man who is whole-educated4 ,i fear that you must have adopted some conventional idea about completeness of education1 since you believe that there is any such thing as completeness1 and that education can be measured by fractions1 like the divisions of a two-foot rule4 ,is not such an idea just a little arbitrary8 ,it seems to be the idea of a schoolmaster1 with his little list of subjects and his professional habit of estimating the progress of his boys by the good marks they are likely to obtain from their examiners4 ,the half-educated schoolboy would be a schoolboy half-way towards his bachelor's degree--is that it8 ,in the estimates of school and college this may be so1 and it may be well to keep up the illusion1 during boyhood1 that there is such a thing attainable as the complete education that you assume4 ,but the wider experience of manhood tends rather to convince us that no one can be fully educated1 and that the more rich and various the natural talents1 the greater will be the difficulty of educating the whole of them4 ,indeed it does not appear that in a state of society so advanced in the different specialities as ours is1 men were ever intended to do more than develop by education a few of their natural gifts4 ,the only man who came near to a complete education was ,leonardo da ,vinci1 but such a personage would be impossible to-day4 ,no contemporary ,leonardo could be at the same time a leader in fine art1 a great military and civil engineer1 and a discoverer in theoretical science2 the specialists have gone too far for him4 ,born in our day1 ,leonardo would have been either a specialist or an amateur4 ,situated even as he was1 in a time and country so remarkably favorable to the general development of a variously gifted man1 he still fell short of the complete expansion of all his extraordinary faculties4 ,he was a great artist1 and yet his artistic power was never developed beyond the point of elaborately careful labor2 he never attained the assured manipulation of ,titian and ,paul ,veronese1 not to mention the free facility of ,velasquez1 or the splendid audacity of ,rubens4 ,his natural gifts were grand enough to have taken him to a pitch of mastery that he never reached1 but his mechanical and scientific tendencies would have their development also1 and withdrew so much time from art that every renewal of his artistic labor was accompanied by long and anxious reflection4 ,the word education is used in senses so different that confusion is not always avoided4 ,some people mean by it the acquisition of knowledge1 others the development of faculty4 ,if you mean the first1 then the half-educated man would be a man who knew half what he ought to know1 or who only half knew the different sciences1 which the wholly educated know thoroughly4 ,who is to fix the subjects8 ,is it the opinion of the learned8--if so1 who are the learned8 ,a learned man6--a scholar6--a man of erudition6 ,upon whom are these epithets of approbation bestowed8 ,are they given to men acquainted with the science of government8 thoroughly masters of the geographical and commercial relations of ,europe8 to men who know the properties of bodies1 and their action upon each other8 ,no3 this is not learning2 it is chemistry1 or political economy1 not learning4 ,the distinguishing abstract term1 the epithet of ,scholar1 is reserved for him who writes on the olic reduplication1 and is familiar with the ,sylburgian method of arranging defectives in ,greek3 and ,greek3 mi4 ,the picture which a young ,englishman1 addicted to the pursuit of knowledge1 draws--his beau idal of human nature--his top and consummation of man's powers--is a knowledge of the ,greek language4 ,his object is not to reason1 to imagine1 or to invent2 but to conjugate1 decline1 and derive4 ,the situations of imaginary glory which he draws for himself1 are the detection of an anapst in the wrong place1 or the restoration of a dative case which ,cranzius had passed over1 and the never-dying ,ernesti failed to observe4 ,by the help of the above passage from an article written sixty-three years ago by ,sydney ,smith1 and by the help of another passage in the same paper where he tells us that the ,english clergy bring up the first young men of the country as if they were all to keep grammar schools in little country towns1 ,i begin to understand what you mean by a half-educated person4 ,you mean a person who is only half qualified for keeping a grammar school4 ,in this sense it is very possible that our friend the painter possesses nothing beyond a miserable fraction of education4 ,and yet he has picked up a good deal of valuable knowledge outside the technical acquirement of a most difficult profession4 ,he studied two years in ,paris1 and four years in ,florence and ,rome4 ,he speaks ,french and ,italian quite fluently1 and with a fair degree of correctness4 ,his knowledge of those two languages is incomparably more complete1 in the sense of practical possession1 than our fossilized knowledge of ,latin1 and he reads them almost as we read ,english1 currently1 and without translating4 ,he has the heartiest enjoyment of good literature2 there is evidence in his pictures of a most intelligent sympathy with the greatest inventive writers4 ,without having a scientific nature1 he knows a good deal about anatomy4 ,he has not read ,greek poetry1 but he has studied the old ,greek mind in its architecture and sculpture4 ,nature has also endowed him with a just appreciation of music1 and he knows the immortal masterpieces of the most illustrious composers4 ,all these things would not qualify him to teach a grammar school1 and yet what ,greek of the age of ,pericles ever knew half so much8 ,this for the acquisition of knowledge2 now for the development of faculty4 ,in this respect he excels us as performing athletes excel the people in the streets4 ,consider the marvellous accuracy of his eye1 the precision of his hand1 the closeness of his observation1 the vigor of his memory and invention6 ,how clumsy and rude is the most learned pedant in comparison with the refinement of this delicate organization6 ,try to imagine what a disciplined creature he has become1 how obedient are all his faculties to the commands of the central will6 ,the brain conceives some image of beauty or wit1 and immediately that clear conception is telegraphed to the well-trained fingers4 ,surely1 if the results of education may be estimated from the evidences of skill1 here are some of the most wonderful of such results4 ,,footnote3 #a ,according to ,m4 ,taine4 ,i have elsewhere expressed a doubt about polyglots4 ,,part ,,iv4 ,,the ,,power ,,of ,,time4 ,,letter ,i4 ,,to ,a ,,man ,,of ,,leisure ,,who ,,complained ,,of ,,want ,,of ,,time4 ,necessity for time-thrift in all cases--,serious men not much in danger from mere frivolity--,greater danger of losing time in our serious pursuits themselves--,time thrown away when we do not attain proficiency--,soundness of former scholarship a good example--,browning's ,grammarian--,knowledge an organic whole--,soundness the possession of essential parts--,necessity of fixed limits in our projects of study--,limitation of purpose in the fine arts--,in languages--,instance of ,m4 ,louis nault--,in music--,time saved by following kindred pursuits--,order and proportion the true secrets of time-thrift--,a waste of time to leave fortresses untaken in our rear4 ,you complain of want of time--you1 with your boundless leisure6 ,it is true that the most absolute master of his own hours still needs thrift if he would turn them to account1 and that too many never learn this thrift1 whilst others learn it late4 ,will you permit me to offer briefly a few observations on time-thrift which have been suggested to me by my own experience and by the experience of intellectual friends8 ,it may be accepted for certain1 to begin with1 that men who like yourself seriously care for culture1 and make it1 next to moral duty1 the principal object of their lives1 are but little exposed to waste time in downright frivolity of any kind4 ,you may be perfectly idle at your own times1 and perfectly frivolous even1 whenever you have a mind to be frivolous1 but then you will be clearly aware how the time is passing1 and you will throw it away knowingly1 as the most careful of money-economists will throw away a few sovereigns in a confessedly foolish amusement1 merely for the relief of a break in the habit of his life4 ,to a man of your tastes and temper there is no danger of wasting too much time so long as the waste is intentional2 but you are exposed to time-losses of a much more insidious character4 ,it is in our pursuits themselves that we throw away our most valuable time4 ,few intellectual men have the art of economizing the hours of study4 ,the very necessity1 which every one acknowledges1 of giving vast portions of life to attain proficiency in anything makes us prodigal where we ought to be parsimonious1 and careless where we have need of unceasing vigilance4 ,the best time-savers are the love of soundness in all we learn or do1 and a cheerful acceptance of inevitable limitations4 ,there is a certain point of proficiency at which an acquisition begins to be of use1 and unless we have the time and resolution necessary to reach that point1 our labor is as completely thrown away as that of a mechanic who began to make an engine but never finished it4 ,each of us has acquisitions which remain permanently unavailable from their unsoundness1 a language or two that we can neither speak nor write1 a science of which the elements have not been mastered1 an art which we cannot practice with satisfaction either to others or to ourselves4 ,now the time spent on these unsound accomplishments has been in great measure wasted1 not quite absolutely wasted1 since the mere labor of trying to learn has been a discipline for the mind1 but wasted so far as the accomplishments themselves are concerned4 ,and even this mental discipline1 on which so much stress is laid by those whose interest it is to encourage unsound accomplishment1 might be obtained more perfectly if the subjects of study were less numerous and more thoroughly understood4 ,let us not therefore in the studies of our maturity repeat the error of our youth4 ,let us determine to have soundness1 that is1 accurately organized knowledge in the studies we continue to pursue1 and let us resign ourselves to the necessity for abandoning those pursuits in which soundness is not to be hoped for4 ,the old-fashioned idea about scholarship in ,latin and ,greek1 that it ought to be based upon thorough grammatical knowledge1 is a good example1 so far as it goes1 of what soundness really is4 ,that ideal of scholarship failed only because it fell short of soundness in other directions and was not conscious of its failure4 ,but there existed1 in the minds of the old scholars1 a fine resolution to be accurate1 and a determination to give however much labor might be necessary for the attainment of accuracy1 in which there was much grandeur4 ,like ,mr4 ,browning's ,grammarian1 they said-- ,let me know all6 ,prate not of most or least ,painful or easy6 and so at least they came to know the ancient tongues grammatically1 which few of us do in these days4 ,i should define each kind of knowledge as an organic whole and soundness as the complete possession of all the essential parts4 ,for example1 soundness in violin-playing consists in being able to play the notes in all the positions1 in tune1 and with a pure intonation1 whatever may be the degree of rapidity indicated by the musical composer4 ,soundness in painting consists in being able to lay a patch of color having exactly the right shape and tint4 ,soundness in the use of language consists in being able to put the right word in the right place4 ,in each of the sciences1 there are certain elementary notions without which sound knowledge is not possible1 but these elementary notions are more easily and rapidly acquired than the elaborate knowledge or confirmed skill necessary to the artist or the linguist4 ,a man may be a sound botanist without knowing a very great number of plants1 and the elements of sound botanical knowledge may be printed in a portable volume4 ,and so it is with all the physical sciences2 the elementary notions which are necessary to soundness of knowledge may be acquired rapidly and at any age4 ,hence it follows that all whose leisure for culture is limited1 and who value soundness of knowledge1 do wisely to pursue some branch of natural history rather than languages or the fine arts4 ,it is well for every one who desires to attain a perfect economy of time1 to make a list of the different pursuits to which he has devoted himself1 and to put a note opposite to each of them indicating the degree of its unsoundness with as little self-delusion as may be4 ,after having done this1 he may easily ascertain in how many of these pursuits a sufficient degree of soundness is attainable for him1 and when this has been decided he may at once effect a great saving by the total renunciation of the rest4 ,with regard to those which remain1 and which are to be carried farther1 the next thing to be settled is the exact limit of their cultivation4 ,nothing is so favorable to sound culture as the definite fixing of limits4 ,suppose1 for example1 that the student said to himself ,i desire to know the flora of the valley ,i live in1 and then set to work systematically to make a herbarium illustrating that flora1 it is probable that his labor would be more thorough1 his temper more watchful and hopeful1 than if he set himself to the boundless task of the illimitable flora of the world4 ,or in the pursuit of fine art1 an amateur discouraged by the glaring unsoundness of the kind of art taught by ordinary drawing-masters1 would find the basis of a more substantial superstructure on a narrower but firmer ground4 ,suppose that instead of the usual messes of bad color and bad form1 the student produced work having some definite and not unattainable purpose1 would there not be1 here also1 an assured economy of time8 ,accurate drawing is the basis of soundness in the fine arts1 and an amateur1 by perseverance1 may reach accuracy in drawing2 this1 at least1 has been proved by some examples--not by many1 certainly1 but by some4 ,in languages we may have a limited purpose also4 ,that charming and most intelligent traveller1 ,louis nault1 tells us that he regularly gave a week to the study of each new language that he needed1 and found that week sufficient4 ,the assertion is not so presumptuous as it appears4 ,for the practical necessities of travelling ,m4 nault found that he required about four hundred words1 and that1 having a good memory1 he was able to learn about seventy words a day4 ,the secret of his success was the invaluable art of selection1 and the strict limitation of effort in accordance with a preconceived design4 ,a traveller not so well skilled in selection might have learned a thousand words with less advantage to his travels1 and a traveller less decided in purpose might have wasted several months on the frontier of every new country in hopeless efforts to master the intricacies of grammatical form4 ,it is evident that in the strictest sense ,m4 nault's knowledge of ,norwegian cannot have been sound1 since he did not master the grammar1 but it was sound in its own strictly limited way1 since he got possession of the four hundred words which were to serve him as current coin4 ,on the same principle it is a good plan for students of ,latin and ,greek who have not time to reach true scholarship 7half a lifetime is necessary for that71 to propose to themselves simply the reading of the original authors with the help of a literal translation4 ,in this way they may attain a closer acquaintance with ancient literature than would be possible by translation alone1 whilst on the other hand their reading will be much more extensive on account of its greater rapidity4 ,it is1 for most of us1 a waste of time to read ,latin and ,greek without a translation1 on account of the comparative slowness of the process2 but it is always an advantage to know what was really said in the original1 and to test the exactness of the translator by continual reference to the ipsissima verba of the author4 ,when the knowledge of the ancient language is not sufficient even for this1 it may still be of use for occasional comparison1 even though the passage has to be fought through coupes de dictionnaire4 ,what most of us need in reference to the ancient languages is a frank resignation to a restriction of some kind4 ,it is simply impossible for men occupied as most of us are in other pursuits to reach perfect scholarship in those languages1 and if we reached it we should not have time to maintain it4 ,in modern languages it is not so easy to fix limits satisfactorily4 ,you may resolve to read ,french or ,german without either writing or speaking them1 and that would be an effectual limit1 certainly4 ,but in practice it is found difficult to keep within that boundary if ever you travel or have intercourse with foreigners4 ,and when once you begin to speak1 it is so humiliating to speak badly1 that a lover of soundness in accomplishment will never rest perfectly satisfied until he speaks like a cultivated native1 which nobody ever did except under peculiar family conditions4 ,in music the limits are found more easily4 ,the amateur musician is frequently not inferior in feeling and taste to the more accomplished professional1 and by selecting those compositions which require much feeling and taste for their interpretation1 but not so much manual skill1 he may reach a sufficient success4 ,the art is to choose the very simplest music 7provided of course that it is beautiful1 which it frequently is71 and to avoid all technical difficulties which are not really necessary to the expression of feeling4 ,the amateur ought also to select the easiest instrument1 an instrument in which the notes are made for him already1 rather than one which compels him to fix the notes as he is playing4 ,the violin tempts amateurs who have a deep feeling for music because it renders feeling as no other instrument can render it1 but the difficulty of just intonation is almost insuperable unless the whole time is given to that one instrument4 ,it is a fatal error to perform on several different instruments1 and an amateur who has done so may find a desirable limitation in restricting himself to one4 ,much time is saved by following pursuits which help each other4 ,it is a great help to a landscape painter to know the botany of the country he works in1 for botany gives the greatest possible distinctness to his memory of all kinds of vegetation4 ,therefore1 if a landscape painter takes to the study of science at all1 he would do well to study botany1 which would be of use in his painting1 rather than chemistry or mathematics1 which would be entirely disconnected from it4 ,the memory easily retains the studies which are auxiliary to the chief pursuit4 ,entomologists remember plants well1 the reason being that they find insects in them1 just as ,leslie the painter had an excellent memory for houses where there were any good pictures to be found4 ,the secret of order and proportion in our studies is the true secret of economy in time4 ,to have one main pursuit and several auxiliaries1 but none that are not auxiliary1 is the true principle of arrangement4 ,many hard workers have followed pursuits as widely disconnected as possible1 but this was for the refreshment of absolute change1 not for the economy of time4 ,lastly1 it is a deplorable waste of time to leave fortresses untaken in our rear4 ,whatever has to be mastered ought to be mastered so thoroughly that we shall not have to come back to it when we ought to be carrying the war far into the enemy's country4 ,but to study on this sound principle1 we require not to be hurried4 ,and this is why1 to a sincere student1 all external pressure1 whether of examiners1 or poverty1 or business engagements1 which causes him to leave work behind him which was not done as it ought to have been done1 is so grievously1 so intolerably vexatious4 ,,letter ,,ii4 ,,to ,a ,,young ,,man ,,of ,,great ,,talent ,,and ,,energy ,,who ,,had ,,magnificent ,,plans ,,for ,,the ,,future4 ,mistaken estimates about time and occasion--,the ,unknown ,element--,procrastination often time's best preserver--,napoleon's advice to do nothing at all--,use of deliberation and of intervals of leisure--,artistic advantages of calculating time--,prevalent childishness about time--,illusions about reading--,bad economy of reading in languages we have not mastered--,that we ought to be thrifty of time1 but not avaricious--,time necessary in production--,men who work best under the sense of pressure--,rossini--,that these cases prove nothing against time-thrift--,the waste of tune from miscalculation--,people calculate accurately for short spaces1 but do not calculate so well for long ones--,reason for this--,stupidity of the ,philistines about wasted time--,tpffer and ,claude ,tillier--,retrospective miscalculations1 and the regrets that result from them4 ,have you ever observed that we pay much more attention to a wise passage when it is quoted1 than when we read it in the original author8 ,on the same principle1 people will give a higher price to a picture-dealer than they would have given to the painter himself4 ,the picture that has been once bought has a recommendation1 and the quoted passage is both recommended and isolated from the context4 ,trusting to this well-known principle1 although ,i am aware that you have read everything that ,sir ,arthur ,helps has published1 ,i proceed to make the following quotation from one of his wisest books4 ,time and occasion are the two important circumstances in human life1 as regards which the most mistaken estimates are made4 ,and the error is universal4 ,it besets even the most studious and philosophic men4 ,this may notably be seen in the present day1 when many most distinguished men have laid down projects for literature and philosophy1 to be accomplished by them in their own lifetime1 which would require several men and many lifetimes to complete2 and1 generally speaking1 if any person1 who has passed the meridian of life1 looks back upon his career1 he will probably own that his greatest errors have arisen from his not having made sufficient allowance for the length of time which his various schemes required for their fulfilment4 ,there are many traditional maxims about time which insist upon its brevity1 upon the necessity of using it whilst it is there1 upon the impossibility of recovering what is lost2 but the practical effect of these maxims upon conduct can scarcely be said to answer to their undeniable importance4 ,the truth is1 that although they tell us to economize our time1 they cannot1 in the nature of things1 instruct us as to the methods by which it is to be economized4 ,human life is so extremely various and complicated1 whilst it tends every day to still greater variety and complication1 that all maxims of a general nature require a far higher degree of intelligence in their application to individual cases than it ever cost originally to invent them4 ,any person gifted with ordinary common sense can perceive that life is short1 that time flies1 that we ought to make good use of the present2 but it needs the union of much experience1 with the most consummate wisdom1 to know exactly what ought to be done and what ought to be left undone--the latter being frequently by far the more important of the two4 ,amongst the favorable influences of my early life was the kindness of a venerable country gentleman1 who had seen a great deal of the world and passed many years1 before he inherited his estates1 in the practice of a laborious profession4 ,i remember a theory of his1 that experience was much less valuable than is generally supposed1 because1 except in matters of simple routine1 the problems that present themselves to us for solution are nearly always dangerous from the presence of some unknown element4 ,the unknown element he regarded as a hidden pitfall1 and he warned me that in my progress through life ,i might always expect to tumble into it4 ,this saying of his has been so often confirmed since then1 that ,i now count upon the pitfall quite as a matter of certainty4 ,very frequently ,i have escaped it1 but more by good luck than good management4 ,sometimes ,i have tumbled into it1 and when this misfortune occurred it has not unfrequently been in consequence of having acted upon the advice of some very knowing and experienced person indeed4 ,we have all read1 when we were boys1 ,captain ,marryat's ,midshipman ,easy4 ,there is a passage in that story which may serve as an illustration of what is constantly happening in actual life4 ,the boats of the ,harpy were ordered to board one of the enemy's vessels2 young ,easy was in command of one of these boats1 and as they had to wait he began to fish4 ,after they had received the order to advance1 he delayed a little to catch his fish1 and this delay not only saved him from being sunk by the enemy's broadside1 but enabled him to board the ,frenchman4 ,here the pitfall was avoided by idling away a minute of time on an occasion when minutes were like hours2 yet it was mere luck1 not wisdom1 which led to the good result4 ,there was a sad railway accident on one of the continental lines last autumn2 a notable personage would have been in the train if he had arrived in time for it1 but his miscalculation saved him4 ,in matters where there is no risk of the loss of life1 but only of the waste of a portion of it in unprofitable employment1 it frequently happens that procrastination1 which is reputed to be the thief of time1 becomes its best preserver4 ,suppose that you undertake an enterprise1 but defer the execution of it from day to day3 it is quite possible that in the interval some fact may accidentally come to your knowledge which would cause a great modification of your plan1 or even its complete abandonment4 ,every thinking person is well aware that the enormous loss of time caused by the friction of our legislative machinery has preserved the country from a great deal of crude and ill-digested legislation4 ,even ,napoleon the ,great who had a rapidity of conception and of action so far surpassing that of other kings and commanders that it seems to us almost supernatural1 said that when you did not quite know what ought to be done it was best to do nothing at all4 ,one of the most distinguished of living painters said exactly the same thing with reference to the practice of his art1 and added that very little time would be needed for the actual execution of a picture if only the artist knew beforehand how and where to lay the color4 ,it so often happens that mere activity is a waste of time1 that people who have a morbid habit of being busy are often terrible time-wasters1 whilst1 on the contrary1 those who are judiciously deliberate1 and allow themselves intervals of leisure1 see the way before them in those intervals1 and save time by the accuracy of their calculations4 ,a largely intelligent thrift of time is necessary to all great works--and many works are very great indeed relatively to the energies of a single individual1 which pass unperceived in the tumult of the world4 ,the advantages of calculating time are artistic as well as economical4 ,i think that1 in this respect1 magnificent as are the cathedrals which the ,gothic builders have left us1 they committed an artistic error in the very immensity of their plans4 ,they do not appear to have reflected that from the continual changes of fashion in architecture1 incongruous work would be sure to intrude itself before their gigantic projects could be realized by the generations that were to succeed them4 ,for a work of that kind to possess artistic unity1 it ought to be completely realized within the space of forty years4 ,how great is the charm of those perfect edifices which1 like the ,sainte ,chapelle1 are the realization of one sublime idea8 ,and those changes in national thought which have made the old cathedrals a jumble of incongruous styles1 have their parallel in the life of every individual workman4 ,we change from year to year1 and any work which occupies us for very long will be wanting in unity of manner4 ,men are apt enough of themselves to fall into the most astonishing delusions about the opportunities which time affords1 but they are even more deluded by the talk of the people about them4 ,when children hear that a new carriage has been ordered of the builder1 they expect to see it driven up to the door in a fortnight1 with the paint quite dry on the panels4 ,all people are children in this respect1 except the workman1 who knows the endless details of production2 and the workman himself1 notwithstanding the lessons of experience1 makes light of the future task4 ,what gigantic plans we scheme1 and how little we advance in the labor of a day6 ,three pages of the book 7to be half erased to-morrow71 a bit of drapery in the picture that will probably have to be done over again1 the imperceptible removal of an ounce of marble-dust from the statue that seems as if it never would be finished2 so much from dawn to twilight has been the accomplishment of the golden hours4 ,if there is one lesson which experience teaches1 surely it is this1 to make plans that are strictly limited1 and to arrange our work in a practicable way within the limits that we must accept4 ,others expect so much from us that it seems as if we had accomplished nothing4 ,what6 have you done only that8 they say1 or we know by their looks that they are thinking it4 ,the most illusory of all the work that we propose to ourselves is reading4 ,it seems so easy to read1 that we intend1 in the indefinite future1 to master the vastest literatures4 ,we cannot bring ourselves to admit that the library we have collected is in great part closed to us simply by want of time4 ,a dear friend of mine1 who was a solicitor with a large practice1 indulged in wonderful illusions about reading1 and collected several thousand volumes1 all fine editions1 but he died without having cut their leaves4 ,i like the university habit of making reading a business1 and estimating the mastery of a few authors as a just title to consideration for scholarship4 ,i should like very well to be shut up in a garden for a whole summer with no literature but the ,fary ,queene1 and one year ,i very nearly realized that project1 but publishers and the postman interfered with it4 ,after all1 this business of reading ought to be less illusory than most others1 for printers divide books into pages1 which they number1 so that1 with a moderate skill in arithmetic1 one ought to be able to foresee the limits of his possibilities4 ,there is another observation which may be suggested1 and that is to take note of the time required for reading different languages4 ,we read very slowly when the language is imperfectly mastered1 and we need the dictionary1 whereas in the native tongue we see the whole page almost at a glance1 as if it were a picture4 ,people whose time for reading is limited ought not to waste it in grammars and dictionaries1 but to confine themselves resolutely to a couple of languages1 or three at the very utmost1 notwithstanding the contempt of polyglots1 who estimate your learning by the variety of your tongues4 ,it is a fearful throwing away of time1 from the literary point of view1 to begin more languages than you can master or retain1 and to be always puzzling yourself about irregular verbs4 ,all plans for sparing time in intellectual matters ought1 however1 to proceed upon the principle of thrift1 and not upon the principle of avarice4 ,the object of the thrifty man in money matters is so to lay out his money as to get the best possible result from his expenditure2 the object of the avaricious man is to spend no more money than he can help4 ,an artist who taught me painting often repeated a piece of advice which is valuable in other things than art1 and which ,i try to remember whenever patience fails4 ,he used to say to me1 ,give it time4 ,the mere length of time that we bestow upon our work is in itself a most important element of success1 and if ,i object to the use of languages that we only half know1 it is not because it takes us a long time to get through a chapter1 but because we are compelled to think about syntax and conjugations which did not in the least occupy the mind of the author1 when we ought rather to be thinking about those things which did occupy his mind1 about the events which he narrated1 or the characters that he imagined or described4 ,there are1 in truth1 only two ways of impressing anything on the memory1 either intensity or duration4 ,if you saw a man struck down by an assassin1 you would remember the occurrence all your life2 but to remember with equal vividness a picture of the assassination1 you would probably be obliged to spend a month or two in copying it4 ,the subjects of our studies rarely produce an intensity of emotion sufficient to ensure perfect recollection without the expenditure of time4 ,and when your object is not to learn1 but to produce1 it is well to bear in mind that everything requires a certain definite time-outlay1 which cannot be reduced without an inevitable injury to quality4 ,a most experienced artist1 a man of the very rarest executive ability1 wrote to me the other day about a set of designs ,i had suggested4 ,if ,i could but get the ,,time1--the large capitals are his own1--for1 somehow or other1 let a design be never so studiously simple in the masses1 it will fill itself as it goes on1 like the weasel in the fable who got into the meal-tub2 and when the pleasure begins in attempting tone and mystery and intricacy1 away go the hours at a gallop4 ,a well-known and very successful ,english dramatist wrote to me3 ,when ,i am hurried1 and have undertaken more work than ,i can execute in the time at my disposal1 ,i am always perfectly paralyzed4 ,there is another side to this subject which deserves attention4 ,some men work best under the sense of pressure4 ,simple compression evolves heat from iron1 so that there is a flash of fire when a ball hits the side of an ironclad4 ,the same law seems to hold good in the intellectual life of man1 whenever he needs the stimulus of extraordinary excitement4 ,rossini positively advised a young composer never to write his overture until the evening before the first performance4 ,nothing1 he said1 excites inspiration like necessity2 the presence of a copyist waiting for your work1 and the view of a manager in despair tearing out his hair by handfuls4 ,in ,italy in my time all the managers were bald at thirty4 ,i composed the overture to ',othello' in a small room in the ,barbaja ,palace1 where the baldest and most ferocious of managers had shut me up by force with nothing but a dish of maccaroni1 and the threat that ,i should not leave the place alive until ,i had written the last note4 ,i wrote the overture to the ',gazza ,ladra' on the day of the first performance1 in the upper loft of the ,la ,scala1 where ,i had been confined by the manager1 under the guard of four scene-shifters who had orders to throw my text out of the window bit by bit to copyists1 who were waiting below to transcribe it4 ,in default of music ,i was to be thrown out myself4 ,i have quoted the best instance known to me of this voluntary seeking after pressure1 but striking as it is1 even this instance does not weaken what ,i said before4 ,for observe1 that although ,rossini deferred the composition of his overture till the evening before the first performance1 he knew very well that he could do it thoroughly in the time4 ,he was like a clever schoolboy who knows that he can learn his lesson in the quarter of an hour before the class begins2 or he was like an orator who knows that he can deliver a passage and compose at the same time the one which is to follow1 so that he prefers to arrange his speech in the presence of his audience4 ,since ,rossini always allowed himself all the time that was necessary for what he had to do1 it is clear that he did not sin against the great time-necessity4 ,the express which can travel from ,london to ,edinburgh in a night may leave the ,english metropolis on ,saturday evening although it is due in ,scotland on ,sunday1 and still act with the strictest consideration about time4 ,the blameable error lies in miscalculation1 and not in rapidity of performance4 ,nothing wastes time like miscalculation4 ,it negatives all results4 ,it is the parent of incompleteness1 the great author of the ,unfinished and the ,unserviceable4 ,almost every intellectual man has laid out great masses of time on five or six different branches of knowledge which are not of the least use to him1 simply because he has not carried them far enough1 and could not carry them far enough in the time he had to give4 ,yet this might have been ascertained at the beginning by the simplest arithmetical calculation4 ,the experience of students in all departments of knowledge has quite definitely ascertained the amount of time that is necessary for success in them1 and the successful student can at once inform the aspirant how far he is likely to travel along the road4 ,what is the use1 to anybody1 of having just enough skill to feel vexed with himself that he has no more1 and yet angry at other people for not admiring the little that he possesses8 ,i wish to direct your attention to a cause which more than any other produces disappointment in ordinary intellectual pursuits4 ,it is this4 ,people can often calculate with the utmost accuracy what they can accomplish in ten minutes or even in ten hours1 and yet the very same persons will make the most absurd miscalculations about what they can accomplish in ten years4 ,there is of course a reason for this3 if there were not1 so many sensible people would not suffer from the delusion4 ,the reason is1 that owing to the habits of human life there is a certain elasticity in large spaces of time that include nights1 and mealtimes1 and holidays4 ,we fancy that we shall be able1 by working harder than we have been accustomed to work1 and by stealing hours from all the different kinds of rest and amusement1 to accomplish far more in the ten years that are to come than we have ever actually accomplished in the same space4 ,and to a certain extent this may be very true4 ,no doubt a man whose mind has become seriously aware of the vast importance of economizing his time will economize it better than he did in the days before the new conviction came to him4 ,no doubt1 after skill in our work has been confirmed1 we shall perform it with increased speed4 ,but the elasticity of time is rather that of leather than that of india-rubber4 ,there is certainly a degree of elasticity1 but the degree is strictly limited4 ,the true master of time-thrift would be no more liable to illusion about years than about hours1 and would act as prudently when working for remote results as for near ones4 ,not that we ought to work as if we were always under severe pressure4 ,little books are occasionally published in which we are told that it is a sin to lose a minute4 ,from the intellectual point of view this doctrine is simply stupid4 ,what the ,philistines call wasted time is often rich in the most varied experience to the intelligent4 ,if all that we have learned in idle moments could be suddenly expelled from our minds by some chemical process1 it is probable that they would be worth very little afterwards4 ,what1 after such a process1 would have remained to ,shakespeare1 ,scott1 ,cervantes1 ,thackeray1 ,dickens1 ,hogarth1 ,goldsmith1 ,molire8 ,when these great students of human nature were learning most1 the sort of people who write the foolish little books just alluded to would have wanted to send them home to the dictionary or the desk4 ,tpffer and ,claude ,tillier1 both men of delicate and observant genius1 attached the greatest importance to hours of idleness4 ,tpffer said that a year of downright loitering was a desirable element in a liberal education2 whilst ,claude ,tillier went even farther1 and boldly affirmed that le temps le mieux employ est celui que l'on perd4 ,let us not think too contemptuously of the miscalculators of time1 since not one of us is exempt from their folly4 ,we have all made miscalculations1 or more frequently have simply omitted calculation altogether1 preferring childish illusion to a manly examination of realities2 and afterwards as life advances another illusion steals over us not less vain than the early one1 but bitter as that was sweet4 ,we now begin to reproach ourselves with all the opportunities that have been neglected1 and now our folly is to imagine that we might have done impossible wonders if we had only exercised a little resolution4 ,we might have been thorough classical scholars1 and spoken all the great modern languages1 and written immortal books1 and made a colossal fortune4 ,miscalculations again1 and these the most imbecile of all2 for the youth who forgets to reason in the glow of happiness and hope1 is wiser than the man who overestimates what was once possible that he may embitter the days which remain to him4 ,,letter ,,iii4 ,,to ,a ,,man ,,of ,,business ,,who ,,desired ,,to ,,make ,,himself ,,better ,,acquainted ,,with ,,literature1 ,,but ,,whose ,,time ,,for ,,reading ,,was ,,limited4 ,victor ,jacquemont on the intellectual labors of the ,germans--,business may be set off as the equivalent to one of their pursuits--,necessity for regularity in the economy of time--,what may be done in two hours a day--,evils of interruption--,florence ,nightingale--,real nature of interruption--,instance from the ,apology of ,socrates4 ,in the charming and precious letters of ,victor ,jacquemont1 a man whose life was dedicated to culture1 and who not only lived for it1 but died for it1 there is a passage about the intellectual labors of ,germans1 which takes due account of the expenditure of time4 ,comme j'tais tonn1 he says1 de la prodigieuse varit et de l'tendue de connaissances des ,allemands1 je demandai un jour l'un de mes amis1 ,saxon de naissance et l'un des premiers gologues de l',europe1 comment ses compatriotes s'y prenaient pour savoir tant de choses4 ,voici sa rponse1 peu prs3 ',un ,allemand 7moi except qui suis le plus paresseux des hommes7 se lve de bonne heure1 t et hiver1 cinq heures environ4 ,il travaille quatre heures avant le djeuner1 fumant quelquefois pendant tout ce temps1 sans que cela nuise son application4 ,son djeuner dure une demi-heure1 et il reste1 aprs1 une autre demi-heure causer avec sa femme et faire jouer ses enfants4 ,il retourne au travail pour six heures2 dne sans se presser2 fume une heure aprs le dner1 jouant encore avec ses enfants2 et avant de se coucher il travaille encore quatre heures4 ,il recommence tous les jours1 ne sortant jamais4--,voil1' me dit mon ami1 'comment ,oersted1 le plus grand physicien de l',allemagne1 en est aussi le plus grand mdecin2 voil comment ,kant le mtaphysicien tait un des plus savants astronomes de l',europe1 et comment ,goethe1 qui en est actuellement le premier littrateur1 dans presque tous les genres1 et le plus fcond1 est excellent botaniste1 minralogiste1 physicien4'#b ,here is something to encourage1 and something to discourage you at the same time4 ,the number of hours which these men have given in order to become what they were1 is so great as to be past all possibility of imitation by a man occupied in business4 ,it is clear that1 with your counting-house to occupy you during the best hours of every day1 you can never labor for your intellectual culture with that unremitting application which these men have given for theirs4 ,but1 on the other hand1 you will perceive that these extraordinary workers have hardly ever been wholly dedicated to one pursuit1 and the reason for this in most cases is clear4 ,men who go through a prodigious amount of work feel the necessity for varying it4 ,the greatest intellectual workers ,i have known personally have varied their studies as ,kant and ,goethe did1 often taking up subjects of the most opposite kinds1 as for instance imaginative literature and the higher mathematics1 the critical and practical study of fine art and the natural sciences1 music1 and political economy4 ,the class of intellects which arrogate to themselves the epithet practical1 but which we call ,philistine1 always oppose this love of variety1 and have an unaffected contempt for it1 but these are matters beyond their power of judgment4 ,they cannot know the needs of the intellectual life1 because they have never lived it4 ,the practice of all the greatest intellects has been to cultivate themselves variously1 and if they have always done so1 it must be because they have felt the need of it4 ,the encouraging inference which you may draw from this in reference to your own case is that1 since all intellectual men have had more than one pursuit1 you may set off your business against the most absorbing of their pursuits1 and for the rest be still almost as rich in time as they have been4 ,you may study literature as some painters have studied it1 or science as some literary men have studied it4 ,the first step is to establish a regulated economy of your time1 so that1 without interfering with a due attention to business and to health1 you may get two clear hours every day for reading of the best kind4 ,it is not much1 some men would tell you that it is not enough1 but ,i purposely fix the expenditure of time at a low figure because ,i want it to be always practicable consistently with all the duties and necessary pleasures of your life4 ,if ,i told you to read four hours every day1 ,i know beforehand what would be the consequence4 ,you would keep the rule for three days1 by an effort1 then some engagement would occur to break it1 and you would have no rule at all4 ,and please observe that the two hours are to be given quite regularly1 because1 when the time given is not much1 regularity is quite essential4 ,two hours a day1 regularly1 make more than seven hundred hours in a year1 and in seven hundred hours1 wisely and uninterruptedly occupied1 much may be done in anything4 ,permit me to insist upon that word uninterruptedly4 ,few people realize the full evil of an interruption1 few people know all that is implied by it4 ,after warning nurses against the evils of interruption1 ,florence ,nightingale says3-- ,these things are not fancy4 ,if we consider that1 with sick as with well1 every thought decomposes some nervous matter--that decomposition as well as re-composition of nervous matter is always going on1 and more quickly with the sick than with the well1--that to obtrude another thought upon the brain whilst it is in the act of destroying nervous matter by thinking1 is calling upon it to make a new exertion--if we consider these things1 which are facts1 not fancies1 we shall remember that we are doing positive injury by interrupting1 by startling a 'fanciful' person1 as it is called4 ,alas1 it is no fancy4 ,if the invalid is forced by his avocations to continue occupations requiring much thinking1 the injury is doubly great4 ,in feeding a patient suffering under delirium or stupor you may suffocate him by giving him his food suddenly1 but if you rub his lips gently with a spoon and thus attract his attention1 he will swallow the food unconsciously1 but with perfect safety4 ,thus it is with the brain4 ,if you offer it a thought1 especially one requiring a decision1 abruptly1 you do it a real1 not fanciful1 injury4 ,never speak to a sick person suddenly2 but1 at the same time1 do not keep his expectation on the tiptoe4 ,to this you will already have answered1 mentally1 that you are not a patient suffering under either delirium or stupor1 and that nobody needs to rub your lips gently with a spoon4 ,but ,miss ,nightingale does not consider interruption baneful to sick persons only4 ,this rule indeed1 she continues1 applies to the well quite as much as to the sick4 ,i have never known persons who exposed themselves for years to constant interruption who did not muddle away their intellects by it at last4 ,the process1 with them1 may be accomplished without pain4 ,with the sick1 pain gives warning of the injury4 ,interruption is an evil to the reader which must be estimated very differently from ordinary business interruptions4 ,the great question about interruption is not whether it compels you to divert your attention to other facts1 but whether it compels you to tune your whole mind to another diapason4 ,shopkeepers are incessantly compelled to change the subject2 a stationer is asked for notepaper one minute1 for sealing-wax the next1 and immediately afterwards for a particular sort of steel pen4 ,the subjects of his thoughts are changed very rapidly1 but the general state of his mind is not changed2 he is always strictly in his shop1 as much mentally as physically4 ,when an attorney is interrupted in the study of a case by the arrival of a client who asks him questions about another case1 the change is more difficult to bear2 yet even here the general state of mind1 the legal state of mind1 is not interfered with4 ,but now suppose a reader perfectly absorbed in his author1 an author belonging very likely to another age and another civilization entirely different from ours4 ,suppose that you are reading the ,defence of ,socrates in ,plato1 and have the whole scene before you as in a picture3 the tribunal of the ,five ,hundred1 the pure ,greek architecture1 the interested ,athenian public1 the odious ,melitus1 the envious enemies1 the beloved and grieving friends whose names are dear to us1 and immortal2 and in the centre you see one figure draped like a poor man1 in cheap and common cloth1 that he wears winter and summer1 with a face plain to downright ugliness1 but an air of such genuine courage and self-possession that no acting could imitate it2 and you hear the firm voice saying-- ,greek3 ,timatai d' oun moi hanr thanatou ,eien4#c ,you are just beginning the splendid paragraph where ,socrates condemns himself to maintenance in the ,prytaneum1 and if you can only be safe from interruption till it is finished1 you will have one of those minutes of noble pleasure which are the rewards of intellectual toil4 ,but if you are reading in the daytime in a house where there are women and children1 or where people can fasten upon you for pottering details of business1 you may be sure that you will not be able to get to the end of the passage without in some way or other being rudely awakened from your dream1 and suddenly brought back into the common world4 ,the loss intellectually is greater than any one who had not suffered from it could imagine4 ,people think that an interruption is merely the unhooking of an electric chain1 and that the current will flow1 when the chain is hooked on again1 just as it did before4 ,to the intellectual and imaginative student an interruption is not that2 it is the destruction of a picture4 ,,letter ,,iv4 ,,to ,a ,,student ,,who ,,felt ,,hurried ,,and ,,driven4 ,people who like to be hurried--,sluggish temperaments gain vivacity under pressure--,routine work may be done at increased speed--,the higher intellectual work cannot be done hurriedly--,the art of avoiding hurry consists in ,selection--,how it was practised by a good landscape painter--,selection in reading and writing--,some studies allow the play of selection more than others do--,languages permit it less than natural sciences--,difficulty of using selection in the fulfilment of literary engagements4 ,so you have got yourself into that pleasant condition which is about as agreeable1 and as favorable to fruitful study and observation1 as the condition of an over-driven cab-horse6 ,very indolent men1 who will not work at all unless under the pressure of immediate urgency1 sometimes tell us that they actually like to be hurried2 but although certain kinds of practical work which have become perfectly easy from habit may be got through at a great pace when the workman feels that there is an immediate necessity for effort1 it is certainly not true that hurry is favorable to sound study of any kind4 ,work which merely runs in a fixed groove may be urged on occasionally at express speed without any perceptible injury to the quality of it4 ,a clever violinist can play a passage prestissimo as correctly as if he played it adagio2 a banker's clerk can count money very rapidly with positively less risk of error than if he counted it as you and ,i do4 ,a person of sluggish temperament really gains in vivacity when he is pressed for time1 and becomes during those moments of excited energy a clearer-headed and more able person than he is under ordinary circumstances4 ,it is therefore not surprising that he should find himself able to accomplish more under the great stimulus of an immediate necessity than he is able to do in the dulness of his every-day existence4 ,great prodigies of labor have been performed in this way to avert impending calamity1 especially by military officers in critical times like those of the ,sepoy rebellion2 and in the obscurer lives of tradesmen1 immense exertions are often made to avert the danger of bankruptcy1 when without the excitement of a serious anxiety of that kind the tradesman would not feel capable of more than a moderate and reasonable degree of attention to his affairs4 ,but notwithstanding the many instances of this kind which might be cited1 and the many more which might easily be collected1 the truth remains that the highest kinds of intellectual labor can hardly ever be properly performed when the degree of pressure is in the least excessive4 ,you may1 for example1 if you have the kind of ability which makes a good journalist1 write an effective leader with your watch lying on the table1 and finish it exactly when the time is up2 but if you had the kind of ability which makes a good poet1 you could not write anything like highly-finished poetry against time4 ,it is equally clear that scientific discovery1 which1 though it may flash suddenly upon the mind of the discoverer1 is always the result of long brooding over the most patient observations1 must come at its own moments1 and cannot be commanded4 ,the activity of poets and discoverers would be paralyzed by exigencies which stimulate the activity of soldiers and men of business4 ,the truth is1 that intelligence and energy are beneficially stimulated by pressure from without1 whereas the working of the higher intellect is impeded by it1 and that to such a degree that in times of the greatest pressure the high intellectual life is altogether suspended1 to leave free play to the lower but more immediately serviceable intelligence4 ,this being so1 it becomes a necessary part of the art of intellectual living so to order our work as to shield ourselves if possible1 at least during a certain portion of our time1 from the evil consequences of hurry4 ,the whole secret lies in a single word--,selection4 ,an excellent landscape painter told me that whatever he had to do1 he always took the greatest pains to arrange his work so as never to have his tranquillity disturbed by haste4 ,his system1 which is quite applicable to many other things than landscape painting1 was based on the principle of selection4 ,he always took care to determine beforehand how much time he could devote to each sketch or study1 and then1 from the mass of natural facts before him1 selected the most valuable facts which could be recorded in the time at his disposal4 ,but however short that time might be1 he was always perfectly cool and deliberate in the employment of it4 ,indeed this coolness and his skill in selection helped each other mutually1 for he chose wisely because he was cool1 and he had time to be cool by reason of the wisdom of his selection4 ,in his little memoranda1 done in five minutes1 the lines were laid just as deliberately as the tints on an elaborate picture2 the difference being in choice only1 not in speed4 ,now if we apply this art of selection to all our labors it will give us much of that landscape painter's enviable coolness1 and enable us to work more satisfactorily4 ,suppose that instead of painting and sketching we have to do a great deal of reading and writing3 the art is to select the reading which will be most useful to our purpose1 and1 in writing1 to select the words which will express our meaning with the greatest clearness in a little space4 ,the art of reading is to skip judiciously4 ,whole libraries may be skipped in these days1 when we have the results of them in our modern culture without going over the ground again4 ,and even of the books we decide to read1 there are almost always large portions which do not concern us1 and which we are sure to forget the day after we have read them4 ,the art is to skip all that does not concern us1 whilst missing nothing that we really need4 ,no external guidance can teach us this2 for nobody but ourselves can guess what the needs of our intellect may be4 ,but let us select with decisive firmness1 independently of other people's advice1 independently of the authority of custom4 ,in every newspaper that comes to hand there is a little bit that we ought to read2 the art is to find that little bit1 and waste no time over the rest4 ,some studies permit the exercise of selection better than others do4 ,a language1 once undertaken1 permits very little selection indeed1 since you must know the whole vocabulary1 or nearly so1 to be able to read and speak4 ,on the other hand1 the natural sciences permit the most prudent exercise of selection4 ,for example1 in botany you may study as few plants as you choose4 ,in writing1 the art of selection consists in giving the utmost effect to expression in the fewest words2 but of this art ,i say little1 for who can contend against an inevitable trade-necessity8 ,almost every author of ordinary skill could1 when pressed for time1 find a briefer expression for his thoughts1 but the real difficulty in fulfilling literary engagements does not lie in the expression of the thought1 it lies in the sufficiently rapid production of a certain quantity of copy4 ,for this purpose ,i fear that selection would be of very little use--of no more use1 in fact1 than in any other branch of manufacture where 7if a certain standard is kept up to7 quantity in sale is more important than quality of material4 ,,letter ,v4 ,,to ,a ,,friend ,,who1 ,,though ,,he ,,had ,,no ,,profession1 ,,could ,,not ,,find ,,time ,,for ,,his ,,various ,,intellectual ,,pursuits4 ,compensations resulting from the necessity for time--,opportunity only exists for us so far as we have time to make use of it--,this or that1 not this and that--,danger of apparently unlimited opportunities--,the intellectual training of our ancestors--,montaigne the ,essayist--,reliance upon the compensations4 ,it has always seemed to me that the great and beautiful principle of compensation is more clearly seen in the distribution and effects of time than in anything else within the scope of our experience4 ,the good use of one opportunity very frequently compensates us for the absence of another1 and it does so because opportunity is itself so dependent upon time that1 although the best opportunities may apparently be presented to us1 we can make no use of them unless we are able to give them the time that they require4 ,you1 who have the best possible opportunities for culture1 find a certain sadness and disappointment because you cannot avail yourself of all of them2 but the truth is1 that opportunity only exists for us just so far as we are able to make use of it1 and our power to do so is often nothing but a question of time4 ,if our days are well employed we are sure to have done some good thing which we should have been compelled to neglect if we had been occupied about anything else4 ,hence every genuine worker has rich compensations which ought to console him amply for his shortcomings1 and to enable him to meet comparisons without fear4 ,those who aspire to the intellectual life1 but have no experience of its difficulties1 very frequently envy men so favorably situated as you are4 ,it seems to them that all the world's knowledge is accessible to you1 and that you have simply to cull its fruits as we gather grapes in a vineyard4 ,they forget the power of ,time1 and the restrictions which ,time imposes4 ,this or that1 not this and that1 is the rule to which all of us have to submit1 and it strangely equalizes the destinies of men4 ,the time given to the study of one thing is withdrawn from the study of another1 and the hours of the day are limited alike for all of us4 ,how difficult it is to reconcile the interests of our different pursuits6 ,indeed it seems like a sort of polygamy to have different pursuits4 ,it is natural to think of them as jealous wives tormenting some ,mormon prophet4 ,there is great danger in apparently unlimited opportunities1 and a splendid compensation for those who are confined by circumstances to a narrow but fruitful field4 ,the ,englishman gets more civilization out of a farm and a garden than the ,red ,indian out of the space encircled by his horizon4 ,our culture gains in thoroughness what it loses in extent4 ,this consideration goes far to explain the fact that although our ancestors were so much less favorably situated than we are1 they often got as good an intellectual training from the literature that was accessible to them1 as we from our vaster stores4 ,we live in an age of essayists1 and yet what modern essayist writes better than old ,montaigne8 ,all that a thoughtful and witty writer needs for the sharpening of his intellect1 ,montaigne found in the ancient literature that was accessible to him1 and in the life of the age he lived in4 ,born in our own century1 he would have learned many other things1 no doubt1 and read many other books1 but these would have absorbed the hours that he employed not less fruitfully with the authors that he loved in the little library up in the third story of his tower1 as he tells us1 where he could see all his books at once1 set upon five rows of shelves round about him4 ,in earlier life he bought this sort of furniture for ornament and outward show1 but afterwards quite abandoned that1 and procured such volumes only as supplied his own need4 ,to supply our own need1 within the narrow limits of the few and transient hours that we can call our own1 is enough for the wise everywhere1 as it was for ,montaigne in his tower4 ,let us resolve to do as much as that1 not more1 and then rely upon the golden compensations4 ,,note4--,supposing that the executive and critical powers always exist in some correspondent degree in the same person1 still they cannot be cultivated to the same extent4 ,the attention required for the development of a theory is necessarily withdrawn from the design of a drawing1 and the time devoted to the realization of a form is lost to the solution of a problem4--,,mr4 ,,ruskin1 in the preface to the third volume of ,modern ,painters4 ,in the case of ,mr4 ,ruskin1 in that of ,mr4 ,dante ,rossetti1 and in all cases where the literary and artistic gifts are naturally pretty evenly balanced1 the preponderance of an hour a day given to one or the other class of studies may have settled the question whether the student was to be chiefly artist or chiefly author4 ,the enormous importance of the distribution of time is never more clearly manifested than in cases of this kind4 ,mr4 ,ruskin might certainly have attained rank as a painter1 ,rossetti might have been as prolific in poetry as he is excellent4 ,what these gifted men are now is not so much a question of talent as of time4 ,in like manner the question whether ,ingres was to be known as a painter or as a violinist was settled by the employment of hours rather than by any preponderance of faculty4 ,,footnotes3 #b ,being astonished at the prodigious variety and at the extent of knowledge possessed by the ,germans1 ,i begged one of my friends1 ,saxon by birth1 and one of the foremost geologists in ,europe1 to tell me how his countrymen managed to know so many things4 ,here is his answer1 nearly in his own words3--',a ,german 7except myself1 who am the idlest of men7 gets up early1 summer and winter1 at about five o'clock4 ,he works four hours before breakfast1 sometimes smoking all the time1 which does not interfere with his application4 ,his breakfast lasts half an hour1 and he remains1 afterwards1 another half-hour talking with his wife and playing with his children4 ,he returns to his work for six hours1 dines without hurrying himself1 smokes an hour after dinner1 playing again with his children1 and before he goes to bed he works four hours more4 ,he begins again every day1 and never goes out4 ,this is how it comes to pass that ,oersted1 the greatest natural philosopher in ,germany1 is at the same time the greatest physician2 this is how ,kant the metaphysician was one of the most learned astronomers in ,europe1 and how ,goethe1 who is at present the first and most fertile author in ,germany in almost all kinds of literature1 is an excellent botanist1 mineralogist1 and natural philosopher4' #c ,the man1 then1 judges me worthy of death4 ,be it so4 ,,part ,v4 ,,the ,,influences ,,of ,,money4 ,,letter ,i4 ,,to ,a ,,very ,,rich ,,student4 ,the author of ,vathek--,the double temptation of wealth--,rich men tempted to follow occupations in which their wealth is useful--,pressure of social duties on the rich--,the ,duchess of ,orleans--,the rich man's time not his own--,the rich may help the general intellectual advancement by the exercise of patronage--,dr4 ,carpenter--,franz ,woepke4 ,it has always seemed to me a very remarkable and noteworthy circumstance that although ,mr4 ,beckford1 the author of ,vathek1 produced in his youth a story which bears all the signs of true inventive genius1 he never produced anything in after-life which posterity cares to preserve4 ,i read ,vathek again quite recently1 to see how far my early enthusiasm for it might have been due to that passion for orientalism which reigned amongst us many years ago1 but this fresh perusal left an impression which only genius leaves4 ,beckford really had invention1 and an extraordinary narrative power4 ,that such faculties1 after having once revealed themselves1 should contentedly have remained dormant ever afterwards1 is one of the most curious facts in the history of the human mind1 and it is the more curious that ,beckford lived to a very advanced age4 ,beckford's case appears to have been one of those in which great wealth diminishes or wholly paralyzes the highest energy of the intellect1 leaving the lower energies free to exert less noble kinds of activity4 ,a refined self-indulgence became the habit of his life1 and he developed simply into a dilettant4 ,even his love for the fine arts did not rise above the indulgence of an elegant and cultivated taste4 ,although he lived at the very time most favorable to the appearance of a great critic in architecture and painting1 the time of a great architectural revival and of the growth of a vigorous and independent school of contemporary art1 he exercised no influence beyond that of a wealthy virtuoso4 ,his love of the beautiful began and ended in simple personal gratification2 it led to no noble labor1 to no elevating severity of discipline4 ,englishman though he was1 he filled his ,oriental tower with masterpieces from ,italy and ,holland1 only to add form and color to the luxuries of his reverie1 behind his gilded lattices4 ,and when he raised that other tower at ,fonthill1 and the slaves of the lamp toiled at it by torchlight to gratify his ,oriental impatience1 he exercised no influence upon the confusion of his epoch more durable than that hundred yards of masonry which sank into a shapeless heap whilst as yet ,azrael spared its author4 ,he to whom ,nature and ,fortune had been so prodigal of their gifts1 he whom ,reynolds painted and ,mozart instructed1 who knew the poets of seven literatures1 culling their jewels like flowers in seven enchanted gardens--he to whom the palaces of knowledge all opened their golden gates even in his earliest youth1 to whom were also given riches and length of days1 for whom a thousand craftsmen toiled in ,europe and a thousand slaves beyond the sea1#d--what has this gifted mortal left as the testimony of his power1 as the trace of his fourscore years upon the earth8 ,only the reminiscence of a vague splendor1 like the fast-fading recollection of a cloud that burned at sunset1 and one small gem of intellectual creation that lives like a tiny star4 ,if wealth had only pleasure to offer as a temptation from intellectual labor1 its influence would be easier to resist4 ,men of the ,english race are often grandly strong in resistance to every form of voluptuousness2 the race is fond of comfort and convenience1 but it does not sacrifice its energy to enervating self-indulgence4 ,there is1 however1 another order of temptations in great wealth1 to which ,englishmen not only yield1 but yield with a satisfied conscience1 even with a sense of obedience to duty4 ,wealth carries pleasure in her left hand1 but in her right she bears honor and power4 ,the rich man feels that he can do so much by the mere exercise of his command over the labor of others1 and so little by any unaided labor of his own1 that he is always strongly tempted to become1 not only physically but intellectually1 a director of work rather that a workman4 ,even his modesty1 when he is modest1 tends to foster his reliance on others rather than himself4 ,all that he tries to do is done so much better by those who make it their profession1 that he is always tempted to fall back upon his paying power as his most satisfactory and effective force4 ,there are cases in which this temptation is gloriously overcome1 where men of great wealth compel every one to acknowledge that their money is nothing more than a help to their higher life1 like the charger that bore ,wellington at ,waterloo1 serving him indeed usefully1 but not detracting from the honor which is his due4 ,but in these cases the life is usually active or administrative rather than intellectual4 ,the rich man does not generally feel tempted to enter upon careers in which his command over labor is not an evident advantage1 and this because men naturally seek those fields in which all their superiorities tell4 ,even the well known instance of ,lord ,rosse can scarcely be considered an exception to this rule1 for although he was eminent in a science which has been followed by poor men with great distinction1 his wealth was of use in the construction of his colossal telescope1 which gave him a clear advantage over merely professional contemporaries4 ,besides this natural desire to pursue careers in which their money may lessen the number of competitors1 the rich are often diverted from purely intellectual pursuits by the social duties of their station1 duties which it is impossible to avoid and difficult to keep within limits4 ,the ,duchess of ,orleans 7mother of the present ,count of ,paris7 arranged her time with the greatest care so as to reserve a little of it for her own culture in uninterrupted solitude4 ,by an exact system1 and the exercise of the rarest firmness1 she contrived to steal half an hour here and an hour there--enough no doubt1 when employed as she employed them1 to maintain her character as a very distinguished lady1 yet still far from sufficient for the satisfactory pursuit of any great art or science4 ,if it be difficult for the rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven1 it is also difficult for him to secure that freedom from interruption which is necessary to fit him for his entrance into the ,intellectual ,kingdom4 ,he can scarcely allow himself to be absorbed in any great study1 when he reflects on all the powerful means of social influence which he is suffering to lie idle4 ,he is sure to possess by inheritance1 or to have acquired in obedience to custom1 a complicated and expensive machinery for the pleasures and purposes of society4 ,there is game to be shot2 there are hunters to be exercised2 great houses to be filled with guests4 ,so much is expected of the rich man1 both in business and in pleasure1 that his time is not his own1 and he could not quit his station if he would4 ,and yet the ,intellectual ,life1 in its fruitful perfection1 requires1 ,i do not say the complete abandonment of the world1 but it assuredly requires free and frequent spaces of labor in tranquil solitude1 retreats like those commanded by the ,church of ,rome1 but with more of study and less of contemplation4 ,it would be useless to ask you to abdicate your power1 and retreat into some hermitage with a library and a laboratory1 without a thought of returning to your pleasant hall in ,yorkshire and your house in ,mayfair4 ,you will not sell all and follow the ,light1 but there is a life which you may powerfully encourage1 yet only partially share4 ,notwithstanding the increased facilities for earning a living which this age offers to the intellectual1 the time that they are often compelled to give to the satisfaction of common material necessities is so much time withdrawn from the work which they alone can do4 ,it is a lamentable waste of the highest and rarest kind of energy to compel minds that are capable of original investigation1 of discovery1 to occupy themselves in that mere vulgarization of knowledge1 in popular lecturing and literature1 which could be done just as efficiently by minds of a common order4 ,it is an error of the present age to believe that the time for what is called patronage is altogether passed away4 ,let me mention two instances to the contrary3 one in which kindly help would have saved fifteen years of a noble life2 another in which that kindly help did actually permit a man of exceptional endowment and equally exceptional industry to pursue investigations for which no other human being was so well qualified1 and which were entirely incompatible with the earning of the daily bread4 ,dr4 ,carpenter has lately told us that1 finding it impossible to unite the work of a general practitioner with the scientific researches upon which his heart was set1 he gave up nine-tenths of his time for twenty years to popular lecturing and writing1 in order that he might exist and devote the other tenth to science4 ,just as he was breaking down from the excessive strain upon mind and body which this life involved1 an appointment was offered to ,dr4 ,carpenter which gave him competence and sufficient leisure for the investigations which he has conducted to such important issues4 ,suppose that during those twenty years of struggle he had broken down like many another only a little less robust--what then8 ,a mind lost to his country and the world4 ,and would it not have been happier for him and for us if some of those men 7of whom there are more in ,england than in any other land71 who are so wealthy that their gold is positively a burden and an encumbrance1 like too many coats in summer1 had helped ,dr4 ,carpenter at least a few years earlier1 in some form that a man of high feeling might honorably accept8 ,the other example that ,i shall mention is that of ,franz ,woepke1 the mathematician and orientalist4 ,a modest pension1 supplied by an ,italian prince who was interested in the history of mathematics1 gave ,woepke that peace which is incompatible with poverty1 and enabled him to live grandly in his narrow lodging the noble intellectual life4 ,was not this rightly and well done1 and probably a much more effectual employment of the power of gold than if that ,italian prince had added some rare manuscripts to his own library without having time or knowledge to decipher them8 ,i cannot but think that the rich may serve the cause of culture best by a judicious exercise of patronage--unless1 indeed1 they have within themselves the sense of that irresistible vocation which made ,humboldt use his fortune as the servant of his high ambition4 ,the ,humboldts never are too rich2 they possess their gold and are not possessed by it1 and they are exempt from the duty of aiding others because they themselves have a use for all their powers4 ,,letter ,,ii ,,to ,a ,,genius ,,careless ,,in ,,money ,,matters4 ,danger of carelessness--,inconveniences of poverty unfavorable to the ,intellectual ,life--,necessity advances men in industrial occupations1 but disturbs and interrupts the higher intellectual life--,instances in science1 literature1 and art--,careers aided by wealth--,mr4 ,ruskin--,de ,saussure--,work spoiled by poverty in the doing--,the central passion of men of ability is to do their work well--,the want of money the most common hindrance to excellence of work--,de ,snancour--,bossuet-- ,sainte-,beuve--,shelley-- ,wordsworth--,scott--,kepler--,tycho ,brahe--,schiller--,goethe--,case of an eminent ,english philosopher1 and of a ,french writer of school-primers--,loss of time in making experiments on public taste--,surtout ne pas trop crire--,auguste ,comte--,the reaction of the intellectual against money-making--,money the protector of the intellectual life4 ,i have been anxious for you lately1 and venture to write to you about the reasons for this anxiety4 ,you are neither extravagant nor self-indulgent1 yet it seems to me that your entire absorption in the higher intellectual pursuits has produced in you1 as it frequently does1 a carelessness about material interests of all kinds which is by far the most dangerous of all tempers to the pecuniary well-being of a man4 ,sydney ,smith declared that no fortune could stand that temper long1 and that we are on the high road to ruin the moment we think ourselves rich enough to be careless4 ,let me observe1 to begin with1 that although the pursuit of wealth is not favorable to the intellectual life1 the inconveniences of poverty are even less favorable to it4 ,we are sometimes lectured on the great benefits of necessity as a stimulant to exertion1 and it is implied that comfortable people would go much farther on the road to distinction if they were made uncomfortable by having to think perpetually about money4 ,those who say this confound together the industry of the industrial and professional classes1 and the labors of the more purely intellectual4 ,it is clear that when the labor a man does is of such a nature that he will be paid for it in strict proportion to the time and effort he bestows1 the need of money will be a direct stimulus to the best exertion he may be capable of4 ,in all simple industrial occupations the need of money does drive a man forwards1 and is often1 when he feels it in early life1 the very origin and foundation of his fortune4 ,there exists1 in such occupations1 a perfect harmony between the present necessity and the ultimate purpose of the life4 ,wealth is the object of industry1 and the first steps towards the possession of it are steps on the chosen path4 ,the future captain of industry1 who will employ thousands of workpeople and accumulate millions of money1 is going straight to his splendid future when he gets up at five in the morning to work in another person's factory4 ,to learn to be a builder of steam-vessels1 it is necessary1 even when you begin with capital1 to pass through the manual trades1 and you will only learn them the better if the wages are necessary to your existence4 ,poverty in these cases only makes an intelligent man ground himself all the better in that stern practical training which is the basis of his future career4 ,well1 therefore1 may those who have reached distinguished success in fields of practical activity extol the teachings of adversity4 ,if it is a necessary part of your education that you should hammer rivets inside a steam-boiler1 it is as well that your early habits should not be over-dainty4 ,so it is observed that horny hands1 in the colonies1 get gold into them sooner than white ones4 ,even in the liberal professions young men get on all the better for not being too comfortably off4 ,if you have a comfortable private income to begin with1 the meagre early rewards of professional life will seem too paltry to be worth hard striving1 and so you will very likely miss the more ample rewards of maturity1 since the common road to success is nothing but a gradual increase4 ,and you miss education at the same time1 for practice is the best of professional educators1 and many successful lawyers and artists have had scarcely any other training4 ,the daily habit of affairs trains men for the active business of the world1 and if the purpose of their lives is merely to do what they are doing or to command others to do the same things1 the more closely circumstances tie them down to their work1 the better4 ,but in the higher intellectual pursuits the necessity for immediate earning has an entirely different result4 ,it comes1 not as an educator1 but as an interruption or suspension of education4 ,all intellectual lives1 however much they may differ in the variety of their purposes1 have at least this purpose in common1 that they are mainly devoted to self-education of one kind or another4 ,an intellectual man who is forty years old is as much at school as an ,etonian of fourteen1 and if you set him to earn more money than that which comes to him without especial care about it1 you interrupt his schooling1 exactly as selfish parents used to do when they sent their young children to the factory and prevented them from learning to read4 ,the idea of the intellectual life is an existence passed almost entirely in study1 yet preserving the results of its investigations4 ,a day's writing will usually suffice to record the outcome of a month's research4 ,necessity1 instead of advancing your studies1 stops them4 ,whenever her harsh voice speaks it becomes your duty to shut your books1 put aside your instruments1 and do something that will fetch a price in the market4 ,the man of science has to abandon the pursuit of a discovery to go and deliver a popular lecture a hundred miles off1 for which he gets five pounds and his railway fare4 ,the student of ancient literature has to read some feeble novel1 and give three days of a valuable life to write an anonymous review which will bring him two pounds ten4 ,the artist has to leave his serious picture to manufacture pot-boilers1 which will teach him nothing1 but only spoil his hands and vitiate the public taste4 ,the poet suspends his poem 7which is promised to a publisher for ,christmas1 and will be spoiled in consequence by hurry at the last7 in order to write newspaper articles on subjects of which he has little knowledge and in which he takes no interest4 ,and yet these are instances of those comparatively happy and fortunate needy who are only compelled to suspend their intellectual life1 and who can cheer themselves in their enforced labor with the hope of shortly renewing it4 ,what of those others who are pushed out of their path forever by the buffets of unkindly fortune8 ,many a fine intellect has been driven into the deep quagmire1 and has struggled in it vainly till death came1 which but for that grim necessity might have scaled the immortal mountains4 ,this metaphor of the mountains has led me1 by a natural association of ideas1 to think of a writer who has added to our enjoyment of their beauty1 and ,i think of him the more readily that his career will serve as an illustration--far better than any imaginary career--of the very subject which just now occupies my mind4 ,mr4 ,ruskin is not only one of the best instances1 but he is positively the very best instance except the two ,humboldts1 of an intellectual career which has been greatly aided by material prosperity1 and which would not have been possible without it4 ,this does not in the least detract from the merit of the author of ,modern ,painters1 for it needed a rare force of resolution1 or a powerful instinct of genius1 to lead the life of a severe student under every temptation to indolence4 ,still it is true that ,mr4 ,ruskin's career would have been impossible for a poor man1 however gifted4 ,a poor man would not have had access to ,mr4 ,ruskin's materials1 and one of his chief superiorities has always been an abundant wealth of material4 ,and if we go so far as to suppose that the poor man might have found other materials perhaps equivalent to these1 we know that he could not have turned them to that noble use4 ,the poor critic would be immediately absorbed in the ocean of anonymous periodical literature2 he could not find time for the incubation of great works4 ,modern ,painters1 the result of seventeen years of study1 is not simply a work of genius but of genius seconded by wealth4 ,close to it on my shelves stand four volumes which are the monument of another intellectual life devoted to the investigation of nature4 ,de ,saussure1 whom ,mr4 ,ruskin reverences as one of his ablest teachers1 and whom all sincere students of nature regard as a model observer1 pursued for many laborious years a kind of life which was not1 and could not be1 self-supporting in the pecuniary sense4 ,many other patient laborers1 who have not the celebrity of these1 work steadily in the same way1 and are enabled to do so by the possession of independent fortune4 ,i know one such who gives a whole summer to the examination of three or four acres of mountain-ground1 the tangible result being comprised in a few memoranda1 which1 considered as literary material1 might 7in the hands of a skilled professional writer7 just possibly be worth five pounds4 ,not only do narrow pecuniary means often render high intellectual enterprises absolutely impossible1 but they do what is frequently even more trying to the health and character1 they permit you to undertake work that would be worthy of you if you might only have time and materials for the execution of it1 and then spoil it in the doing4 ,an intellectual laborer will bear anything except that4 ,you may take away the very table he is writing upon1 if you let him have a deal board for his books and papers2 you may take away all his fine editions1 if you leave him common copies that are legible2 you may remove his very candlestick1 if you leave him a bottle-neck to stick his candle in1 and he will go on working cheerfully still4 ,but the moment you do anything to spoil the quality of the work itself1 you make him irritable and miserable4 ,you think1 says ,sir ,arthur ,helps1 to gain a good man to manage your affairs because he happens to have a small share in your undertaking4 ,it is a great error4 ,you want him to do something well which you are going to tell him to do4 ,if he has been wisely chosen1 and is an able man1 his pecuniary interest in the matter will be mere dust in the balance1 when compared with the desire which belongs to all such men to do their work well4 ,yes1 this is the central passion of all men of true ability1 to do their work well2 their happiness lies in that1 and not in the amount of their profits1 or even in their reputation4 ,but then1 on the other hand1 they suffer indescribable mental misery when circumstances compel them to do their work less well than they know that1 under more favorable circumstances1 they would be capable of doing it4 ,the want of money is1 in the higher intellectual pursuits1 the most common hindrance to thoroughness and excellence of work4 ,de ,snancour1 who1 in consequence of a strange concatenation of misfortunes1 was all his life struggling in shallows1 suffered not from the privations themselves1 but from the vague feeling that they stunted his intellectual growth2 and any experienced student of human nature must be aware that ,de ,snancour was right4 ,with larger means he would have seen more of the world1 and known it better1 and written of it with riper wisdom4 ,he said that the man who only saw in poverty the direct effect of the money-privation1 and only compared1 for instance1 an eight-penny dinner to one that cost ten shillings1 would have no conception of the true nature of misfortune1 for not to spend money is the least of the evils of poverty4 ,bossuet said that he had no attachment to riches1 and still if he had only what is barely necessary1 if he felt himself narrowed1 he would lose more than half his talents4 ,sainte-,beuve said1 ,only think a little what a difference there is in the starting point and in the employment of the faculties between a ,duc de ,luynes and a ,snancour4 ,how many of the most distinguished authors have been dependent upon private means1 not simply for physical sustenance1 but for the opportunities which they afforded of gaining that experience of life which was absolutely essential to the full growth of their mental faculties4 ,shelley's writings brought him no profit whatever1 and without a private income he could not have produced them1 for he had not a hundred buyers4 ,yet his whole time was employed in study or in travel1 which for him was study of another kind1 or else in the actual labor of composition4 ,wordsworth tried to become a ,london journalist and failed4 ,a young man called ,raisley ,calvert died and left him #ijjl42 this saved the poet in ,wordsworth1 as it kept him till the publication of the ,lyrical ,ballads1 and afterwards other pieces of good luck happened to him1 so that he could think and compose at leisure4 ,scott would not venture to devote himself to literature until he had first secured a comfortable income outside of it4 ,poor ,kepler struggled with constant anxieties1 and told fortunes by astrology for a livelihood1 saying that astrology as the daughter of astronomy ought to keep her mother2 but fancy a man of science wasting precious time over horoscopes6 ,i supplicate you1 he writes to ,moestlin1 if there is a situation vacant at ,tbingen1 do what you can to obtain it for me1 and let me know the prices of bread and wine and other necessaries of life1 for my wife is not accustomed to live on beans4 ,he had to accept all sorts of jobs2 he made almanacs1 and served any one who would pay him4 ,his only tranquil time for study was when he lived in ,styria1 on his wife's income1 a tranquillity that did not last for long1 and never returned4 ,how different is this from the princely ease of ,tycho ,brahe1 who labored for science alone1 with all the help that the ingenuity of his age could furnish6 ,there is the same contrast1 in a later generation1 between ,schiller and ,goethe4 ,poor ,schiller wasting so much of his precious life in literary hack-work1 translating ,french books for a miserable pittance2 ,goethe1 fortunate in his pecuniary independence as in all the other great circumstances of his life1 and this at a time when the pay of authors was so miserable that they could hardly exist by the pen4 ,schiller got a shilling a page for his translations4 ,merck the publisher offered three pounds sterling for a drama of ,goethe4 ,if ,europe praised me1 ,goethe said1 what has ,europe done for me8 ,nothing4 ,even my works have been an expense to me4 ,the pecuniary rewards which men receive for their labor are so absurdly 7yet inevitably7 disproportionate to the intellectual power that is needed for the task1 and also to the toil involved1 that no one can safely rely upon the higher intellectual pursuits as a protection from money-anxieties4 ,i will give you two instances of this disproportion1 real instances1 of men who are known to me personally4 ,one of them is an eminent ,englishman of most remarkable intellectual force1 who for many years past has occupied his leisure in the composition of works that are valued by the thinking public to a degree which it would be difficult to exaggerate4 ,but this thinking public is not numerous1 and so in the year #ahff this eminent philosopher1 unable to continue losing money in endeavoring to enlighten his contemporaries1 was compelled to announce the termination of his series4 ,on the other hand1 a ,frenchman1 also known to me personally1 one day conceived the fortunate idea that a new primer might possibly be a saleable commodity4 ,so he composed a little primer1 beginning with the alphabet1 advancing to a1 b1 ab2 b1 a1 ba2 and even going so far in history as to affirm that ,adam was the first man and ,abraham the father of the faithful4 ,he had the wisdom to keep the copyright of this little publication1 which employed 7in the easiest of all imaginable literary labor7 the evenings of a single week4 ,it has brought him in1 ever since1 a regular income of #abjl4 a year1 which1 so far from showing any signs of diminution1 is positively improving4 ,this success encouraged the same intelligent gentleman to compose more literature of the same order1 and he is now the enviable owner of several other such copyrights1 all of them very valuable2 in fact as good properties as house-leases in ,london4 ,here is an author who1 from the pecuniary point of view1 was incomparably more successful than ,milton1 or ,shelley1 or ,goethe4 ,if every intellectual man could shield his higher life by writing primers for children which should be as good as house-leases1 if the proverb ,qui peut le plus peut le moins were a true proverb1 which it is not1 then of course all men of culture would be perfectly safe1 since they all certainly know the contents of a primer4 ,but you may be able to write the most learned philosophical treatise and still not be able to earn your daily bread4 ,consider1 too1 the lamentable loss of time which people of high culture incur in making experiments on public taste1 when money becomes one of their main objects4 ,whilst they are writing stories for children1 or elementary educational books which people of far inferior attainment could probably do much better1 their own self-improvement comes to a standstill4 ,if it could only be ascertained without delay what sort of work would bring in the money they require1 then there would be some chance of apportioning time so as to make reserves for self-improvement2 but when they have to write a score of volumes merely to ascertain the humor of the public1 there is little chance of leisure4 ,the life of the professional author who has no reputation is much less favorable to high culture than the life of a tradesman in moderately easy circumstances who can reserve an hour or two every day for some beloved intellectual pursuit4 ,sainte-,beuve tells us that during certain years of his life he had endeavored1 and had been able1 so to arrange his existence that it should have both sweetness and dignity1 writing from time to time what was agreeable1 reading what was both agreeable and serious1 cultivating friendships1 throwing much of his mind into the intimate relations of every day1 giving more to his friends than to the public1 reserving what was most tender and delicate for the inner life1 enjoying with moderation2 such for him was the dream of an intellectual existence in which things truly precious were valued according to their worth4 ,and above all1 he said1 above all his desire was not to write too much1 surtout ne pas trop crire4 ,and then comes the regret for this wise1 well-ordered life enjoyed by him only for a time4 ,la ncessit depuis m'a saisi et m'a contraint de renoncer ce que je considrais comme le seul bonheur ou la consolation exquise du mlancolique et du sage4 ,auguste ,comte lamented in like manner the evil intellectual consequences of anxieties about material needs4 ,there is nothing1 he said1 more mortal to my mind than the necessity1 pushed to a certain degree1 to have to think each day about a provision for the next4 ,happily ,i think little and rarely about all that2 but whenever this happens to me ,i pass through moments of discouragement and positive despair1 which if the influence of them became habitual would make me renounce all my labors1 all my philosophical projects1 to end my days like an ass4 ,there are a hundred rules for getting rich1 but the instinct of accumulation is worth all such rules put together4 ,this instinct is rarely found in combination with high intellectual gifts1 and the reason is evident4 ,to advance from a hundred pounds to a thousand is not an intellectual advance1 and there is no intellectual interest in the addition of a cipher at the bankers'4 ,simply to accumulate money that you are never to use is1 from the intellectual point of view1 as stupid an operation as can be imagined4 ,we observe1 too1 that the great accumulators1 the men who are gifted by nature with the true instinct1 are not usually such persons as we feel any ambition to become4 ,their faculties are concentrated on one point1 and that point1 as it seems to us1 of infinitely little importance4 ,we cannot see that it signifies much to the intellectual well-being of humanity that ,john ,smith should be worth his million when he dies1 since we know quite well that ,john ,smith's mind will be just as ill-furnished then as it is now4 ,in places where much money is made we easily acquire a positive disgust for it1 and the curate seems the most distinguished gentleman in the community1 with his old black coat and his seventy pounds a year4 ,we come to hate money-matters when we find that they exclude all thoughtful and disinterested conversation1 and we fly to the society of people with fixed incomes1 not large enough for much saving1 to escape the perpetual talk about investments4 ,our happiest hours have been spent with poor scholars1 and artists1 and men of science1 whose words remain in the memory and make us rich indeed4 ,then we dislike money because it rules and restrains us1 and because it is unintelligent and seems hostile1 so far as that which is unintelligent can be hostile4 ,and yet the real truth is that money is the strong protector of the intellectual life4 ,the student sits and studies1 too often despising the power that shelters him from the wintry night1 that gives him roof and walls1 and lamp1 and books1 and fire4 ,for money is simply the accumulated labor of the past1 guarding our peace as fleets and armies guard the industry of ,england1 or like some mighty fortress-wall within which men follow the most peaceful avocations4 ,the art is to use money so that it shall be the protector and not the scatterer of our time1 the body-guard of the sovereign ,intellect and ,will4 ,,letter ,,iii4 ,,to ,a ,,student ,,in ,,great ,,poverty4 ,poverty really a great obstacle--,difference between a thousand rich men and a thousand poor men taken from persons of average natural gifts--,the ,houses of ,parliament--,the ,english recognize the natural connection between wealth and culture--,connection between ignorance and parsimony in expenditure--,what may be honestly said for the encouragement of a very poor student4 ,as it seems to me that to make light of the difficulties which lie in the path of another is not to show true sympathy for him1 even though it is done sometimes out of a sort of awkward kindness and for his encouragement1 ,i will not begin by pretending that poverty is not a great obstacle to the perfection of the intellectual life4 ,it is a great obstacle2 it is one of the very greatest of all obstacles4 ,only observe how riches and poverty operate upon mankind in the mass4 ,here and there no doubt a very poor man attains intellectual distinction when he has exceptional strength of will1 and health enough to bear a great strain of extra labor that he imposes upon himself1 and natural gifts so brilliant that he can learn in an hour what common men learn in a day4 ,but consider mankind in the mass4 ,look1 for instance1 at our two ,houses of ,parliament4 ,they are composed of men taken from the average run of ,englishmen with very little reference to ability1 but almost all of them are rich men2 not one of them is poor1 as you are poor2 not one of them has to contend against the stern realities of poverty4 ,then consider the very high general level of intellectual attainment which distinguishes those two assemblies1 and ask yourself candidly whether a thousand men taken from the beggars in the streets1 or even from the far superior class of our manufacturing operatives1 would be likely to understand1 as the two ,houses of ,parliament understand1 the many complicated questions of legislation and of policy which are continually brought before them4 ,we all know that the poor are too limited in knowledge and experience1 from the want of the necessary opportunities1 and too little accustomed to exercise their minds in the tranquil investigations of great questions1 to be competent for the work of ,parliament4 ,it is scarcely necessary to insist upon this fact to an ,englishman1 because the ,english have always recognized the natural connection between wealth and culture1 and have preferred to be governed by the rich from the belief that they are likely to be better informed1 and better situated for intellectual activity of a disinterested kind1 than those members of the community whose time and thoughts are almost entirely occupied in winning their daily bread by the incessant labor of their hands4 ,and if you go out into the world1 if you mix with men of very different classes1 you will find that in a broad average way 7,i am not speaking just now of the exceptions7 the richer classes are much more capable of entering into the sort of thinking which may be called intellectual than those whose money is less plentiful1 and whose opportunities have therefore been less abundant4 ,indeed it may be asserted1 roughly and generally1 that the narrowness of men's ideas is in direct proportion to their parsimony in expenditure4 ,i do not mean to affirm that all who spend largely attain large intellectual results1 for of course we know that a man may spend vast sums on pursuits which do not educate him in anything worth knowing1 but the advantage is that with habits of free expenditure the germs of thought are well tilled and watered1 whereas parsimony denies them every external help4 ,the most spending class in ,europe is the ,english gentry1 it is also the class most strikingly characterized by a high general average of information2#e the most parsimonious class in ,europe is the ,french peasantry2 it is also the class most strikingly characterized by ignorance and intellectual apathy4 ,the ,english gentleman has cultivated himself by various reading and extensive travel1 but the ,french peasant will not go anywhere except to the market-town1 and could not pardon the extravagance of buying a book1 or a candle to read it by in the evening4 ,between these extremes we have various grades of the middle classes in which culture usually increases very much in proportion to the expenditure4 ,the rule is not without its exceptions2 there are rich vulgar people who spend a great deal without improving themselves at all--who only1 by unlimited self-indulgence1 succeed in making themselves so uncomfortably sensitive to every bodily inconvenience that they have no leisure1 even in the midst of an unoccupied life1 to think of anything but their own bellies and their own skins--people whose power of attention is so feeble that the smallest external incident distracts it1 and who remember nothing of their travels but a catalogue of trivial annoyances4 ,but people of this kind do not generally belong to families on whom wealth has had time to produce its best effects4 ,what ,i mean is1 that a family which has been for generations in the habit of spending four thousand a year will usually be found to have a more cultivated one than one that has only spent four hundred4 ,i have come to the recognition of this truth very reluctantly indeed1 not because ,i dislike rich people1 but merely because they are necessarily a very small minority1 and ,i should like every human being to have the best benefits of culture if it were only possible4 ,the plain living and high thinking that ,wordsworth so much valued is a cheering ideal1 for most men have to live plainly1 and if they could only think with a certain elevation we might hope to solve the great problem of human life1 the reconciliation of poverty and the soul4 ,there certainly is a slow movement in that direction1 and the shortening of the hours of labor may afford some margin of leisure2 but we who work for culture every day and all day long1 and still feel that we know very little1 and have hardly skill enough to make any effective use of the little that we know1 can scarcely indulge in very enthusiastic anticipations of the future culture of the poor4 ,still1 there are some things that may be rationally and truly said to a poor man who desires culture1 and which are not without a sort of ,spartan encouragement4 ,you are restricted by your poverty1 but it is not always a bad thing to be restricted1 even from the intellectual point of view4 ,the intellectual powers of well-to-do people are very commonly made ineffective by the enormous multiplicity of objects that are presented to their attention1 and which claim from them a sort of polite notice like the greeting of a great lady to each of her thousand guests4 ,it requires the very rarest strength of mind1 in a rich man1 to concentrate his attention on anything there are so many things that he is expected to make a pretence of knowing2 but nobody expects you to know anything1 and this is an incalculable advantage4 ,i think that all poor men who have risen to subsequent distinction have been greatly indebted to this independence of public opinion as to what they ought to know4 ,in trying to satisfy that public opinion by getting up a pretence of various sorts of knowledge1 which is only a sham1 we sacrifice not only much precious time1 but we blunt our natural interest in things4 ,that interest you preserve in all its virgin force1 and this force carries a man far4 ,then1 again1 although the opportunities of rich people are very superior to yours1 they are not altogether so superior as they seem4 ,there exists a great equalizing power1 the limitation of human energy4 ,a rich man may sit down to an enormous banquet1 but he can only make a good use of the little that he is able to digest4 ,so it is with the splendid intellectual banquet that is spread before the rich man's eyes4 ,he can only possess what he has energy to master1 and too frequently the manifest impossibility of mastering everything produces a feeling of discouragement that ends in his mastering nothing4 ,a poor student1 especially if he lives in an out-of-the-way place where there are no big libraries to bewilder him1 may apply his energy with effect in the study of a few authors4 ,i used to believe a great deal more in opportunities and less in application than ,i do now4 ,time and health are needed1 but with these there are always opportunities4 ,rich people have a fancy for spending money very uselessly on their culture because it seems to them more valuable when it has been costly2 but the truth is1 that by the blessing of good and cheap literature1 intellectual light has become almost as accessible as daylight4 ,i have a rich friend who travels more1 and buys more costly things1 than ,i do1 but he does not really learn more or advance farther in the twelvemonth4 ,if my days are fully occupied1 what has he to set against them8 only other well-occupied days1 no more4 ,if he is getting benefit at ,st4 ,petersburg he is missing the benefit ,i am getting round my house1 and in it4 ,the sum of the year's benefit seems to be surprisingly alike in both cases4 ,so if you are reading a piece of thoroughly good literature1 ,baron ,rothschild may possibly be as well occupied as you--he is certainly not better occupied4 ,when ,i open a noble volume ,i say to myself1 ,now the only ,croesus that ,i envy is he who is reading a better book than this4 ,,footnotes3 #d ,this sounds like a poetical exaggeration1 but it is less than the bare truth4 ,there were fifteen hundred slaves on two ,west ,indian estates that ,beckford lost in a lawsuit4 ,it is quite certain1 considering his lavish expenditure1 that fully a thousand men must have worked for the maintenance of his luxury in ,europe4 ,so much for his command of labor4 #e ,the reader will please to bear in mind that ,i am speaking here of broad effects on great numbers4 ,i do not think that aristocracy1 in its spirit1 is quite favorable to the exceptionally highest intellectual life4 ,,part ,,vi4 ,,custom ,,and ,,tradition4 ,,letter ,i4 ,,to ,a ,,young ,,gentleman ,,who ,,had ,,firmly ,,resolved ,,never ,,to ,,wear ,,anything ,,but ,a ,,gray ,,coat4#f ,secret enjoyment of rebellion against custom1 and of the disabilities resulting from it--,penalties imposed by ,society and by ,nature out of proportion to the offence--,instances--,what we consider penalties not really penalties1 but only consequences--,society likes harmony1 and is offended by dissonance--,utility of rebels against custom--,that they ought to reserve their power of rebellion for great occasions--,uses of custom--,duty of the intellectual class--,best way to procure the abolition of a custom we disapprove--,bad customs--,eccentricity sometimes a duty4 ,when ,i had the pleasure of staying at your father's house1 you told me1 rather to my surprise1 that it was impossible for you to go to balls and dinner-parties because you did not possess such a thing as a dress-coat4 ,the reason struck me as being scarcely a valid one1 considering the rather high scale of expenditure adopted in the paternal mansion4 ,it seemed clear that the eldest son of a family which lived after the liberal fashion of ,yorkshire country gentlemen could afford himself a dress-coat if he liked4 ,then ,i wondered whether you disliked dress-coats from a belief that they were unbecoming to your person2 but a very little observation of your character convinced me that1 whatever might be your weaknesses 7for everybody has some weaknesses71 anxiety about personal appearance was not one of them4 ,the truth is1 that you secretly enjoy this little piece of disobedience to custom1 and all the disabilities which result from it4 ,this little rebellion is connected with a larger rebellion1 and it is agreeable to you to demonstrate the unreasonableness of society by incurring a very severe penalty for a very trifling offence4 ,you are always dressed decently1 you offend against no moral rule1 you have cultivated your mind by study and reflection1 and it rather pleases you to think that a young gentleman so well qualified for society in everything of real importance should be excluded from it because he has not purchased a permission from his tailor4 ,the penalties imposed by society for the infraction of very trifling details of custom are often1 as it seems1 out of all proportion to the offence2 but so are the penalties of nature4 ,only three days before the date of this letter1 an intimate friend of mine was coming home from a day's shooting4 ,his nephew1 a fine young man in the full enjoyment of existence1 was walking ten paces in advance4 ,a covey of partridges suddenly cross the road3 my friend in shouldering his gun touches the trigger just a second too soon1 and kills his nephew4 ,now1 think of the long years of mental misery that will be the punishment of that very trifling piece of carelessness6 ,my poor friend has passed1 in the space of a single instant1 from a joyous life to a life that is permanently and irremediably saddened4 ,it is as if he had left the summer sunshine to enter a gloomy dungeon and begin a perpetual imprisonment4 ,and for what8 ,for having touched a trigger1 without evil intention1 a little too precipitately4 ,it seems harder still for the victim1 who is sent out of the world in the bloom of perfect manhood because his uncle was not quite so cool as he ought to have been4 ,again1 not far from where ,i live1 thirty-five men were killed last week in a coal-pit from an explosion of fire-damp4 ,one of their number had struck a lucifer to light his pipe3 for doing this in a place where he ought not to have done it1 the man suffers the penalty of death1 and thirty-four others with him4 ,the fact is simply that ,nature will be obeyed1 and makes no attempt to proportion punishments to offences3 indeed1 what in our human way we call punishments are not punishments1 but simple consequences4 ,so it is with the great social penalties4 ,society will be obeyed3 if you refuse obedience1 you must take the consequences4 ,society has only one law1 and that is custom4 ,even religion itself is socially powerful only just so far as it has custom on its side4 ,nature does not desire that thirty-five men should be destroyed because one could not resist the temptation of a pipe2 but fire-damp is highly inflammable1 and the explosion is a simple consequence4 ,society does not desire to exclude you because you will not wear evening dress2 but the dress is customary1 and your exclusion is merely a consequence of your nonconformity4 ,the view of society goes no farther in this than the artistic conception 7not very delicately artistic1 perhaps7 that it is prettier to see men in black coats regularly placed between ladies round a dinner-table than men in gray coats or brown coats4 ,the uniformity of costume appears to represent uniformity of sentiment and to ensure a sort of harmony amongst the convives4 ,what society really cares for is harmony2 what it dislikes is dissent and nonconformity4 ,it wants peace in the dining-room1 peace in the drawing-room1 peace everywhere in its realm of tranquil pleasure4 ,you come in your shooting-coat1 which was in tune upon the moors1 but is a dissonance amongst ladies in full dress4 ,do you not perceive that fustian and velveteen1 which were natural amongst gamekeepers1 are not so natural on gilded chairs covered with silk1 with lace and diamonds at a distance of three feet8 ,you don't perceive it8 ,very well3 society does not argue the point with you1 but only excludes you4 ,it has been said that in the life of every intellectual man there comes a time when he questions custom at all points4 ,this seems to be a provision of nature for the reform and progress of custom itself1 which without such questioning would remain absolutely stationary and irresistibly despotic4 ,you rebels against the established custom have your place in the great work of progressive civilization4 ,without you1 ,western ,europe would have been a second ,china4 ,it is to the continual rebellion of such persons as yourself that we owe whatever progress has been accomplished since the times of our remotest forefathers4 ,there have been rebels always1 and the rebels have not been1 generally speaking1 the most stupid part of the nation4 ,but what is the use of wasting this beneficial power of rebellion on matters too trivial to be worth attention8 ,does it hurt your conscience to appear in a dress-coat8 ,certainly not1 and you would be as good-looking in it as you are in your velveteen shooting-jacket with the pointers on the bronze buttons4 ,let us conform in these trivial matters1 which nobody except a tailor ought to consider worth a moment's attention1 in order to reserve our strength for the protection of intellectual liberty4 ,let society arrange your dress for you 7it will save you infinite trouble71 but never permit it to stifle the expression of your thought4 ,you find it convenient1 because you are timid1 to exclude yourself from the world by refusing to wear its costume2 but a bolder man would let the tailor do his worst1 and then go into the world and courageously defend there the persons and causes that are misunderstood and slanderously misrepresented4 ,the fables of ,spenser are fables only in form1 and a noble knight may at any time go forth1 armed in the panoply of a tail-coat1 a dress waistcoat1 and a manly moral courage1 to do battle across the dinner-table and in the drawing-room for those who have none to defend them4 ,it is unphilosophical to set ourselves obstinately against custom in the mass1 for it multiplies the power of men by settling useless discussion and clearing the ground for our best and most prolific activity4 ,the business of the world could not be carried forward one day without a most complex code of customs2 and law itself is little more than custom slightly improved upon by men reflecting together at their leisure1 and reduced to codes and systems4 ,we ought to think of custom as a most precious legacy of the past1 saving us infinite perplexity1 yet not as an infallible rule4 ,the most intelligent community would be conservative in its habits1 yet not obstinately conservative1 but willing to hear and adopt the suggestions of advancing reason4 ,the great duty of the intellectual class1 and its especial function1 is to confirm what is reasonable in the customs that have been handed down to us1 and so maintain their authority1 yet at the same time to show that custom is not final1 but merely a form suited to the world's convenience4 ,and whenever you are convinced that a custom is no longer serviceable1 the way to procure the abolition of it is to lead men very gradually away from it1 by offering a substitute at first very slightly different from what they have been long used to4 ,if the ,english had been in the habit of tattooing1 the best way to procure its abolition would have been to admit that it was quite necessary to cover the face with elaborate patterns1 yet gently to suggest that these patterns would be still more elegant if delicately painted in water-colors4 ,then you might have gone on arguing--still admitting1 of course1 the absolute necessity for ornament of some kind--that good taste demanded only a moderate amount of it2 and so you would have brought people gradually to a little flourish on the nose or forehead1 when the most advanced reformers might have set the example of dispensing with ornament altogether4 ,many of our contemporaries have abandoned shaving in this gradual way1 allowing the whiskers to encroach imperceptibly1 till at last the razor lay in the dressing-case unused4 ,the abominable black cylinders that covered our heads a few years ago were vainly resisted by radicals in custom1 but the moderate reformers gradually reduced their elevation1 and now they are things of the past4 ,though ,i think we ought to submit to custom in matters of indifference1 and to reform it gradually1 whilst affecting submission in matters altogether indifferent1 still there are other matters on which the only attitude worthy of a man is the most bold and open resistance to its dictates4 ,custom may have a right to authority over your wardrobe1 but it cannot have any right to ruin your self-respect4 ,not only the virtues most advantageous to well-being1 but also the most contemptible and degrading vices1 have at various periods of the world's history been sustained by the full authority of custom4 ,there are places where forty years ago drunkenness was conformity to custom1 and sobriety an eccentricity4 ,there are societies1 even at the present day1 where licentiousness is the rule of custom1 and chastity the sign of weakness or want of spirit4 ,there are communities 7it cannot be necessary to name them7 in which successful fraud1 especially on a large scale1 is respected as the proof of smartness1 whilst a man who remains poor because he is honest is despised for slowness and incapacity4 ,there are whole nations in which religious hypocrisy is strongly approved by custom1 and honesty severely condemned4 ,the ,wahabee ,arabs may be mentioned as an instance of this1 but the ,wahabee ,arabs are not the only people1 nor is ,nejed the only place1 where it is held to be more virtuous to lie on the side of custom than to be an honorable man in independence of it4 ,in all communities where vice and hypocrisy are sustained by the authority of custom1 eccentricity is a moral duty4 ,in all communities where a low standard of thinking is received as infallible common sense1 eccentricity becomes an intellectual duty4 ,there are hundreds of places in the provinces where it is impossible for any man to lead the intellectual life without being condemned as an eccentric4 ,it is the duty of intellectual men who are thus isolated to set the example of that which their neighbors call eccentricity1 but which may be more accurately described as superiority4 ,,letter ,,ii4 ,,to ,a ,,conservative ,,who ,,had ,,accused ,,the ,,author ,,of ,a ,,want ,,of ,,respect ,,for ,,tradition4 ,transition from the ages of tradition to that of experiment--,attraction of the future--,joubert--,saint-,marc ,girardin--,solved and unsolved problems--,the introduction of a new element--,inapplicability of past experience--,an argument against ,republics--,the lessons of history--,mistaken predictions that have been based on them--,morality and ecclesiastical authority--,compatibility of hopes for the future with gratitude to the past--,that we are more respectful to the past than previous ages have been--,our feelings towards tradition--,an incident at ,warsaw--,the reconstruction of the navy4 ,the astonishing revolution in thought and practice which is taking place amongst the intelligent ,japanese1 the throwing away of a traditional system of living in order to establish in its stead a system which1 for an ,asiatic people1 is nothing more than a vast experiment1 has its counterpart in many an individual life in ,europe4 ,we are like travellers crossing an isthmus between two seas1 who have left one ship behind them1 who have not yet seen the vessel that waits on the distant shore1 and who experience to the full all the discomforts and inconveniences of the passage from one sea to the other4 ,there is a break between the existence of our forefathers and that of our posterity1 and it is we who have the misfortune to be situated exactly where the break occurs4 ,we are leaving behind us the security1 ,i do not say the safety1 but the feeling of tranquillity which belonged to the ages of tradition2 we are entering upon ages whose spirit we foresee but dimly1 whose institutions are the subject of guesses and conjectures4 ,and yet this future1 of which we know so little1 attracts us more by the very vastness of its enigma than the rich history of the past1 so full of various incident1 of powerful personages1 of grandeur1 and suffering1 and sorrow4 ,joubert already noticed this forward-looking of the modern mind4 ,the ancients1 he observed1 said1 ',our ancestors2' we say1 ',posterity4' ,we do not love as they did la patrie1 the country and laws of our forefathers2 we love rather the laws and the country of our children4 ,it is the magic of the future1 and not that of the past1 which seduces us4 ,commenting on this thought of ,joubert's1 ,saint-,marc ,girardin said that we loved the future because we loved ourselves1 and fashioned the future in our own image2 and he added1 with partial but not complete injustice1 that our ignorance of the past was a cause of this tendency in our minds1 since it is shorter to despise the past than to study it4 ,these critics and accusers of the modern spirit are not1 however1 altogether fair to it4 ,if the modern spirit looks so much to the future1 it is because the problems of the past are solved problems1 whilst those of the future have the interest of a game that is only just begun4 ,we know what became of feudalism1 we know the work that it accomplished and the services that it rendered1 but we do not yet know what will be the effects of modern democracy and of the scientific and industrial spirit4 ,it is the novelty of this element1 the scientific spirit and the industrial development which is a part 7but only a part7 of its results1 that makes the past so much less reliable as a guide than it would have been if no new element had intervened1 and therefore so much less interesting for us4 ,as an example of the inapplicability of past experience1 ,i may mention an argument against ,republics which has been much used of late by the partisans of monarchy in ,france4 ,they have frequently told us that ,republics had only succeeded in very small ,states1 and this is true of ancient democracies2 but it is not less true that railways1 and telegraphs1 and the newspaper press have made great countries like ,france and the ,united ,states just as capable of feeling and acting simultaneously as the smallest ,republics of antiquity4 ,the parties which rely on what are called the lessons of history are continually exposed to great deceptions4 ,in ,france1 what may be called the historical party would not believe in the possibility of a united ,germany1 because fifty years ago1 with the imperfect means of communication which then existed1 ,germany was not and could not be united4 ,the same historical party refused to believe that the ,italian kingdom could ever hold together4 ,in ,england1 the historical party predicted the dismemberment of the ,united ,states1 and in some other countries it has been a favorite article of faith that ,england could not keep her possessions4 ,but theories of this kind are always of very doubtful applicability to the present1 and their applicability to the future is even more doubtful still4 ,steam and electricity have made great modern ,states practically like so many great cities1 so that ,manchester is like a suburb of ,london1 and ,havre the ,pirus of ,paris1 whilst the most trifling occasions bring the ,sovereign of ,italy to any of the ,italian capitals4 ,in the intellectual sphere the experience of the past is at least equally unreliable4 ,if the power of the ,catholic ,church had been suddenly removed from the ,europe of the fourteenth century1 the consequence would have been a moral anarchy difficult to conceive2 but in our own day the real regulator of morality is not the ,church1 but public opinion1 in the formation of which the ,church has a share1 but only a share4 ,it would therefore be unsafe to conclude that the weakening of ecclesiastical authority must of necessity1 in the future1 be followed by moral anarchy1 since it is possible1 and even probable1 that the other great influences upon public opinion may gain strength as this declines4 ,and in point of fact we have already lived long enough to witness a remarkable decline of ecclesiastical authority1 which is proved by the avowed independence of scientific writers and thinkers1 and by the open opposition of almost all the ,european ,governments4 ,the secular power resists the ecclesiastical in ,germany and ,spain4 ,in ,france it establishes a form of government which the ,church detests4 ,in ,ireland it disestablishes and disendows a hierarchy4 ,in ,switzerland it resists the whole power of the ,papacy4 ,in ,italy it seizes the sacred territory and plants itself within the very walls of ,rome4 ,and yet the time which has witnessed this unprecedented self-assertion of the laity has witnessed a positive increase in the morality of public sentiment1 especially in the love of justice and the willingness to hear truth1 even when truth is not altogether agreeable to the listener1 and in the respect paid by opponents to able and sincere men1 merely for their ability and sincerity4 ,this love of justice1 this patient and tolerant hearing of new truth1 in which our age immeasurably exceeds all the ages that have preceded it1 are the direct results of the scientific spirit1 and are not only in themselves eminently moral1 but conducive to moral health generally4 ,and this advancement may be observed in countries which were least supposed to be capable of it4 ,even the ,french1 of whose immorality we have heard so much1 have a public opinion which is gradually gaining a salutary strength1 an increasing dislike for barbarity and injustice1 and a more earnest desire that no citizen1 except by his own fault1 should be excluded from the benefits of civilization4 ,the throne which has lately fallen was undermined by the currents of this public opinion before it sank in military disaster4 ,aussi me contenterai-je1 says ,littr1 d'appeler l'attention sur la guerre1 dont l'opinion publique ne tolre plus les antiques barbaries2 sur la magistrature1 qui rpudie avec horreur les tortures et la question2 sur la tolrance1 qui a banni les perscutions religieuses2 sur l'quite1 qui soumet tout le monde aux charges communes2 sur le sentiment de solidarit qui du sort des classes pauvres fait le plus pressant et le plus noble problme du temps prsent4 ,pour moi1 je ne sais caractriser ce spectacle si hautement moral qu'en disant que l'humanit1 amliore1 accepte de plus en plus le devoir et la tche d'tendre le domaine de la justice et de la bont4 ,yet this partial and comparative satisfaction that we find in the present1 and our larger hopes for the future1 are quite compatible with gratitude to all who in the past have rendered such improvement possible for us1 and the higher improvement that we hope for possible to those who will come after us4 ,i cannot think that the present age may be accused with justice of exceptional ignorance or scorn of its predecessors4 ,we have been told that we scorn our forefathers because old buildings are removed to suit modern conveniences1 because the walls of old ,york have been pierced for the railway1 and a tower of ,conway ,castle has been undermined that the ,holyhead mail may pass4 ,but the truth is1 that whilst we care a little for our predecessors1 they cared still less for theirs4 ,the medival builders not only used as quarries any ,roman remains that happened to come in their way1 but they spoiled the work of their own fathers and grandfathers by intruding their new fashions on buildings originally designed in a different style of art4 ,when an architect in the present day has to restore some venerable church1 he endeavors to do so in harmony with the design of the first builder2 but such humility as this was utterly foreign to the medival mind1 which often destroyed the most lovely and necessary details to replace them with erections in the fashion of the day1 but artistically unsuitable4 ,the same disdain for the labors of other ages has prevailed until within the memory of living men1 and our age is really the first that has made any attempt to conform itself1 in these things1 to the intentions of the dead4 ,i may also observe1 that although history is less relied upon as a guide to the future than it was formerly1 it is more carefully and thoroughly investigated from an intellectual interest in itself4 ,to conclude4 ,it seems to me that tradition has much less influence of an authoritative kind than it had formerly1 and that the authority which it still possesses is everywhere steadily declining2 that as a guide to the future of the world it is more likely to mislead than to enlighten us1 and still that all intellectual and educated people must always take a great interest in tradition1 and have a certain sentiment of respect for it4 ,consider what our feelings are towards the ,church of ,rome1 the living embodiment of tradition4 ,no well-informed person can forget the immense services that in former ages she has rendered to ,european civilization1 and yet at the same time such a person would scarcely wish to place modern thought under her direction1 nor would he consult the ,pope about the tendencies of the modern world4 ,when in #ahbi the city of ,warsaw erected a monument to ,copernicus1 a scientific society there waited in the ,church of the ,holy ,cross for a service that was to have added solemnity to their commemoration4 ,they waited vainly4 ,not a single priest appeared4 ,the clergy did not feel authorized to countenance a scientific discovery which1 in a former age1 had been condemned by the authority of the ,church4 ,this incident is delicately and accurately typical of the relation between the modern and the traditional spirit4 ,the modern spirit is not hostile to tradition1 and would not object to receive any consecration which tradition might be able to confer1 but there are difficulties in bringing the two elements together4 ,we need not1 however1 go so far as ,warsaw1 or back to the year #ahbi1 for examples of an unwillingness on the part of the modern mind to break entirely with the traditional spirit4 ,our own country is remarkable both for the steadiness of its advance towards a future widely different from the past1 and for an affectionate respect for the ideas and institutions that it gradually abandons1 as it is forced out of them by new conditions of existence1 ,i may mention1 as one example out of very many1 our feeling about the reconstruction of the navy4 ,here is a matter in which science has compelled us to break with tradition absolutely and irrevocably2 we have done so1 but we have done so with the greatest regret4 ,the ships of the line that our hearts and imaginations love are the ships of ,nelson and ,collingwood and ,cochrane4 ,we think of the ,british fleets that bore down upon the enemy with the breeze in their white sails2 we think of the fine qualities of seamanship that were fostered in our ,agamemnons1 and ,victories1 and ,tmraires4 ,will the navies of the future ever so clothe their dreadful powers with beauty1 as did the ordered columns of ,nelson1 when they came with a fair wind and all sails set1 at eleven o'clock in the morning into ,trafalgar ,bay8 ,we see the smoke of their broadsides rising up to their sails like mists to the snowy ,alps1 and high above1 against heaven's blue1 the unconquered flag of ,england6 ,nor do we perceive now for the first time that there was poetry in those fleets of old2 our forefathers felt it then1 and expressed it in a thousand songs4#g ,,letter ,,iii4 ,,to ,a ,,lady ,,who ,,lamented ,,that ,,her ,,son ,,had ,,intellectual ,,doubts ,,concerning ,,the ,,dogmas ,,of ,,the ,,church4 ,the situation of mother and son a very common one--,painful only when the parties are in earnest--,the knowledge of the difference evidence of a deeper unity--,value of honesty--,evil of a splendid official religion not believed by men of culture--,diversity of belief an evidence of religious vitality--,criticism not to be ignored--,desire for the highest attainable truth--,letter from ,lady ,westmorland about her son1 ,julian ,fane4 ,the difference which you describe as having arisen between your son and you on the most grave and important subject which can occupy the thoughts of men1 gives the outline of a situation painful to both the parties concerned1 and which lays on each of them new and delicate obligations4 ,you do not know how common this situation is1 and how sadly it interferes with the happiness of the very best and most pure-minded souls alive4 ,for such a situation produces pain only where both parties are earnest and sincere2 and the more earnest both are1 the more painful does the situation become4 ,if you and your son thought of religion merely from the conventional point of view1 as the world does only too easily1 you would meet on a common ground1 and might pass through life without ever becoming aware of any gulf of separation1 even though the hollowness of your several professions were of widely different kinds4 ,but as it happens1 unfortunately for your peace 7yet would you have it otherwise871 that you are both in earnest1 both anxious to believe what is true and do what you believe to be right1 you are likely to cause each other much suffering of a kind altogether unknown to less honorable and devoted natures4 ,there are certain forms of suffering which affect only the tenderest and truest hearts2 they have so many privileges1 that this pain has been imposed upon them as the shadow of their sunshine4 ,let me suggest1 as some ground of consolation and of hope1 that your very knowledge of the difference which pains you is in itself the evidence of a deeper unity4 ,if your son has told you the full truth about the changes in his belief1 it is probably because you yourself have educated him in the habit of truthfulness1 which is as much a law of religion as it is of honor4 ,do you wish this part of his education to be enfeebled or obliterated8 ,could the ,church herself reasonably or consistently blame him for practising the one virtue which1 in a peaceful and luxurious society1 demands a certain exercise of courage8 ,our beliefs are independent of our will1 but our honesty is not2 and he who keeps his honesty keeps one of the most precious possessions of all true ,christians and gentlemen4 ,what state of society can be more repugnant to high religious feeling than a state of smooth external unanimity combined with the indifference of the heart1 a state in which some splendid official religion performs its daily ceremonies as the costliest functionary of the ,government1 whilst the men of culture take a share in them out of conformity to the customs of society1 without either the assent of the intellect or the emotion of the soul8 ,all periods of great religious vitality have been marked by great and open diversity of belief2 and to this day those countries where religion is most alive are the farthest removed from unanimity in the details of religious doctrine4 ,if your son thinks these things of such importance to his conscience that he feels compelled to inflict upon you the slightest pain on their account1 you may rest assured that his religious fibre is still full of vitality4 ,if it were deadened1 he would argue very much as follows4 ,he would say3 ,these old doctrines of the ,church are not of sufficient consequence for me to disturb my mother about them4 ,what is the use of alluding to them ever8 ,and then you would have no anxiety2 and he himself would have the feeling of settled peace which comes over a battle-field when the dead are buried out of sight4 ,it is the peculiarity--some would say the evil1 but ,i cannot think it an evil--of an age of great intellectual activity to produce an amount of critical inquiry into religious doctrine which is entirely unknown to times of simple tradition4 ,and in these days the critical tendency has received a novel stimulus from the successive suggestions of scientific discovery4 ,no one who1 like your son1 fully shares in the intellectual life of the times in which he lives1 can live as if this criticism did not exist4 ,if he affected to ignore it1 as an objection already answered1 there would be disingenuousness in the affectation4 ,fifty years ago1 even twenty or thirty years ago1 a highly intellectual young man might have hardened into the fixed convictions of middle age without any external disturbance1 except such as might have been easily avoided4 ,the criticism existed then1 in certain circles2 but it was not in the air1 as it is now4 ,the life of mankind resembles that of a brook which has its times of tranquillity1 but farther on its times of trouble and unrest4 ,our immediate forefathers had the peaceful time for their lot2 those who went before them had passed over very rough ground at the ,reformation4 ,for us1 in our turn1 comes the recurrent restlessness1 though not in the same place4 ,what we are going to1 who can tell8 ,what we suffer just now1 you and many others know too accurately4 ,there are gulfs of separation in homes of the most perfect love4 ,our only hope of preserving what is best in that purest of earthly felicities lies in the practice of an immense charity1 a wide tolerance1 a sincere respect for opinions that are not ours1 and a deep trust that the loyal pursuit of truth cannot but be in perfect accordance with the intentions of the ,creator1 who endowed the noblest races of mankind with the indefatigable curiosity of science4 ,not to inquire was possible for our forefathers1 but it is not possible for us4 ,with our intellectual growth has come an irrepressible anxiety to possess the highest truth attainable by us4 ,this desire is not sinful1 not presumptuous1 but really one of the best and purest of our instincts1 being nothing else than the sterling honesty of the intellect1 seeking the harmony of concordant truth1 and utterly disinterested4 ,i may quote1 as an illustration of the tendencies prevalent amongst the noblest and most cultivated young men1 a letter from ,lady ,westmorland to ,mr4 ,robert ,lytton about her accomplished son1 the now celebrated ,julian ,fane4 ,we had1 she said1 several conversations1 during his last illness1 upon religious subjects1 about which he had his own peculiar views4 ,the disputes and animosities between ,high and ,low ,church1 and all the feuds of religious sectarianism1 caused him the deepest disgust4 ,i think1 indeed1 that he carried this feeling too far4 ,he had a horror of cant1 which ,i also think was exaggerated2 for it gave him a repulsion for all outward show of religious observances4 ,he often told me that he never missed the practice of prayer1 at morning and evening1 and at other times4 ,but his prayers were his own3 his own thoughts in his own words4 ,he said that he could not pray in the set words of another2 nor unless he was alone4 ,as to joining in family prayers1 or praying at church1 he found it impossible4 ,he constantly read the ,new ,testament4 ,he deprecated the indiscriminate reading of the ,bible4 ,he firmly believed in the efficacy of sincere prayer2 and was always pleased when ,i told him ,i had prayed for him4 ,to this it may be added1 that many recent conversions to the ,church of ,rome1 though apparently of an exactly opposite character1 have in reality also been brought about by the scientific inquiries of the age4 ,the religious sentiment1 alarmed at the prospect of a possible taking away of that which it feeds upon1 has sought in many instances to preserve it permanently under the guardianship of the strongest ecclesiastical authority4 ,in an age of less intellectual disturbance this anxiety would scarcely have been felt2 and the degree of authority claimed by one of the reformed ,churches would have been accepted as sufficient4 ,here again the agitations of the modern intellect have caused division in families2 and as you are lamenting the heterodoxy of your son1 so other parents regret the ,roman orthodoxy of theirs4 ,,letter ,,iv4 ,,to ,,the ,,son ,,of ,,the ,,lady ,,to ,,whom ,,the ,,preceding ,,letter ,,was ,,addressed4 ,difficulty of detaching intellectual from religious questions--,the sacerdotal system--,necessary to ascertain what religion is--,intellectual religion really nothing but philosophy--,the popular instinct--,the test of belief--,public worship--,the intellect moral1 but not religious--,intellectual activity sometimes in contradiction to dogma--,differences between the intellectual and religious lives4 ,your request is not so simple as it appears4 ,you ask me for a frank opinion as to the course your mind is taking in reference to very important subjects2 but you desire only intellectual1 and not religious guidance4 ,the difficulty is to effect any clear demarcation between the two4 ,certainly ,i should never take upon myself to offer religious advice to any one2 it is difficult for those who have not qualified themselves for the priestly office to do that with force and effect4 ,the manner in which a priest leads and manages a mind that has from the first been moulded in the beliefs and observances of his ,church1 cannot be imitated by a layman4 ,a priest starts always from authority2 his method1 which has been in use from the earliest ages1 consists first in claiming your unquestioning assent to certain doctrines1 from which he immediately proceeds to deduce the inferences that may affect your conduct or regulate your thoughts4 ,it is a method perfectly adapted to its own ends4 ,it can deal with all humanity1 and produce the most immediate practical results4 ,so long as the assent to the doctrines is sincere1 the sacerdotal system may contend successfully against some of the strongest forms of evil2 but when the assent to the doctrines has ceased to be complete1 when some of them are half-believed and others not believed at all1 the system loses much of its primitive efficiency4 ,it seems likely that your difficulty1 the difficulty of so many intellectual men in these days1 is to know where the intellectual questions end and the purely religious ones can be considered to begin4 ,if you could once ascertain that1 in a manner definitely satisfactory1 you would take your religious questions to a clergyman and your intellectual ones to a man of science1 and so get each solved independently4 ,without presuming to offer a solution of so complex a difficulty as this1 ,i may suggest to you that it is of some importance to your intellectual life to ascertain what religion is4 ,a book was published many years ago by a very learned author1 in which he endeavored to show that what is vulgarly called scepticism may be intellectual religion4 ,now1 although nothing can be more distasteful to persons of culture than the bigotry which refuses the name of religion to other people's opinions1 merely because they are other people's opinions1 ,i suspect that the popular instinct is right in denying the name of religion to the inferences of the intellect4 ,the description which the author just alluded to gave of what he called intellectual religion was in fact simply a description of philosophy1 and of that discipline which the best philosophy imposes upon the heart and the passions4 ,on the other hand1 ,dr4 ,arnold1 when he says that by religion he always understands ,christianity1 narrows the word as much as he would have narrowed the word patriotism had he defined it to mean a devotion to the interests of ,england4 ,i think the popular instinct1 though of course quite unable to construct a definition of religion1 is in its vague way very well aware of the peculiar nature of religious thought and feeling4 ,the popular instinct would certainly never confound religion with philosophy on the one hand1 nor1 on the other1 unless excited to opposition1 would it be likely to refuse the name of religion to another worship1 such as ,mahometanism1 for instance4 ,according to the popular instinct1 then1 which on a subject of this kind appears the safest of all guides1 a religion involves first a belief and next a public practice4 ,the nature of the belief is in these days wholly peculiar to religion2 in other times it was not so1 because then people believed other things much in the same way4 ,but in these days the test of religious belief is that it should make men accept as certain truth what they would disbelieve on any other authority4 ,for example1 a true ,roman ,catholic believes that the consecrated host is the body of ,christ1 and so long as he lives in the purely religious spirit he continues to believe this2 but so soon as the power of his religious sentiment declines he ceases to believe it1 and the wafer appears to him a wafer1 and no more4 ,and so amongst ,protestants the truly religious believe many things which no person not being under the authority of religion could by any effort bring himself to believe4 ,it is easy1 for example1 to believe that ,joshua arrested the sun's apparent motion1 so long as the religious authority of the ,bible remains perfectly intact2 but no sooner does the reader become critical than the miracle is disbelieved4 ,in all ages1 and in all countries1 religions have narrated marvellous things1 and the people have always affirmed that not to believe these narratives constituted the absence of religion1 or what they called atheism4 ,they have equally1 in all ages and countries1 held the public act of participation in religious worship to be an essential part of what they called religion4 ,they do not admit the sufficiency of secret prayer4 ,can these popular instincts help us to a definition8 ,they may help us at least to mark the dividing line between religion and morality1 between religion and philosophy4 ,no one has ever desired1 more earnestly and eagerly than ,i1 to discover the foundations of the intellectual religion2 no one has ever felt more chilling disappointment in the perception of the plain bare fact that the intellect gives morality1 philosophy1 precious things indeed1 but not religion4 ,it is like seeking art by science4 ,thousands of artists1 whole schools from generation to generation1 have sought fine art through anatomy and perspective2 and although these sciences did not hinder the born artists from coming to art at last1 they did not ensure their safe arrival in the art-paradise2 in many instances they even led men away from art4 ,so it is with the great modern search for the intellectual religion2 the idea of it is scientific in its source1 and the result of it1 the last definite attainment1 is simply intellectual morality1 not religion in the sense which all humanity has attached to religion during all the ages that have preceded ours4 ,we may say that philosophy is the religion of the intellectual2 and if we go scrupulously to ,latin derivations1 it is so4 ,but taking frankly the received meaning of the word as it is used by mankind everywhere1 we must admit that1 although high intellect would lead us inevitably to high and pure morality1 and to most scrupulously beautiful conduct in everything1 towards men1 towards women1 towards even the lower and lowest animals1 still it does not lead us to that belief in the otherwise unbelievable1 or to that detailed cultus which is meant by religion in the universally accepted sense4 ,it is disingenuous to take a word popularly respected and attribute to it another sense4 ,such a course is not strictly honest1 and therefore not purely intellectual2 for the foundation of the intellectual life is honesty4 ,the difficulty of the intellectual life is1 that whilst it can never assume a position of hostility to religion1 which it must always recognize as the greatest natural force for the amelioration of mankind1 it is nevertheless compelled to enunciate truths which may happen to be in contradiction with dogmas received at this or that particular time4 ,that you may not suspect me of a disposition to dwell continually on safe generalities and to avoid details out of timidity1 let me mention two cases on which the intellectual and scientific find themselves at variance with the clergy4 ,the clergy tell us that mankind descend from a single pair1 and that in the earlier ages the human race attained a longevity counted not by decades but by centuries4 ,alexander ,humboldt disbelieves the first of these propositions1 ,professor ,owen disbelieves the second4 ,men of science generally are of the same opinion4 ,few men of science accept ,adam and ,eve1 few accept ,methuselah4 ,professor ,owen argues that1 since the oldest skeletons known have the same system of teething that we have1 man can never have lived long enough to require nine sets of teeth4 ,in regard to these1 and a hundred other points on which science advances new views1 the question which concerns us is how we are to maintain the integrity of the intellectual life4 ,the danger is the loss of inward ingenuousness1 the attempt to persuade ourselves that we believe opposite statements4 ,if once we admit disingenuousness into the mind1 the intellectual life is no longer serene and pure4 ,the plain course for the preservation of our honesty1 which is the basis of truly intellectual thinking1 is to receive the truth1 whether agreeable or the contrary1 with all its train of consequences1 however repulsive or discouraging4 ,in attempting to reconcile scientific truth with the oldest traditions of humanity1 there is but one serious danger1 the loss of intellectual integrity4 ,of that possession modern society has little left to lose4 ,but let us understand that the intellectual life and the religious life are as distinct as the scientific and the artistic lives4 ,they may be led by the same person1 but by the same person in different moods4 ,they coincide on some points1 accidentally4 ,certainly1 the basis of high thinking is perfect honesty1 and honesty is a recognized religious virtue4 ,where the two minds differ is on the importance of authority4 ,the religious life is based upon authority1 the intellectual life is based upon personal investigation4 ,from the intellectual point of view ,i cannot advise you to restrain the spirit of investigation1 which is the scientific spirit4 ,it may lead you very far1 yet always to truth1 ultimately1--you1 or those after you1 whose path you may be destined to prepare4 ,science requires a certain inward heat and heroism in her votaries1 notwithstanding the apparent coldness of her statements4 ,especially does she require that intellectual fearlessness which accepts a proved fact without reference to its personal or its social consequences4 ,,letter ,v4 ,,to ,a ,,friend ,,who ,,seemed ,,to ,,take ,,credit ,,to ,,himself1 ,,intellectually1 ,,from ,,the ,,nature ,,of ,,his ,,religious ,,belief4 ,anecdote of a ,swiss gentleman--,religious belief protects traditions1 but does not weaken the critical faculty itself--,illustration from the art of etching--,sydney ,smith--,dr4 ,arnold--,earnest religious belief of ,ampre--,comte and ,sainte-,beuve--,faraday--,belief or unbelief proves nothing for or against intellectual capacity4 ,i happened once to be travelling in ,switzerland with an eminent citizen of that country1 and ,i remember how in speaking of some place we passed through he associated together the ideas of ,protestantism and intellectual superiority in some such phrase as this3 ,the people here are very superior2 they are ,protestants4 ,there seemed to exist1 in my companion's mind1 an assumption that ,protestants would be superior people intellectually1 or that superior people would be ,protestants2 and this set me thinking whether1 in the course of such experience as had fallen in my way1 ,i had found that religious creed had made much difference in the matter of intellectual acumen or culture4 ,the exact truth appears to be this4 ,a religious belief protects this or that subject against intellectual action1 but it does not affect the energy of the intellectual action upon subjects which are not so protected4 ,let me illustrate this by a reference to one of the fine arts1 the art of etching4 ,the etcher protects a copper-plate by means of a waxy covering called etching-ground1 and wherever this ground is removed the acid bites the copper4 ,the waxy ground does not in the least affect the strength of the acid1 it only intervenes between it and the metal plate4 ,so it is in the mind of man with regard to his intellectual acumen and his religious creed4 ,the creed may protect a tradition from the operation of the critical faculty1 but it does not weaken the critical faculty itself4 ,in the ,english ,church1 for example1 the ,bible is protected against criticism2 but this does not weaken the critical faculty of ,english clergymen with reference to other literature1 and many of them give evidence of a strong critical faculty in all matters not protected by their creed4 ,think of the vigorous common sense of ,sydney ,smith1 exposing so many abuses at a time when it needed not only much courage but great originality to expose them6 ,remember the intellectual force of ,arnold1 a great natural force if ever there was one--so direct in action1 so independent of contemporary opinion6 ,intellectual forces of this kind act freely not only in the ,church of ,england1 but in other ,churches1 even in the ,church of ,rome4 ,who amongst the scientific men of this century has been more profoundly scientific1 more capable of original scientific discovery than ,ampre8 ,yet ,ampre was a ,roman ,catholic1 and not a ,roman ,catholic in the conventional sense merely1 like the majority of educated ,frenchmen1 but a hearty and enthusiastic believer in the doctrines of the ,church of ,rome4 ,the belief in transubstantiation did not prevent ,ampre from becoming one of the best chemists of his time1 just as the belief in the plenary inspiration of the ,new ,testament does not prevent a good ,protestant from becoming an acute critic of ,greek literature generally4 ,a man may have the finest scientific faculty1 the most advanced scientific culture1 and still believe the consecrated wafer to the body of ,jesus ,christ4 ,for since he still believes it to be the body of ,christ under the apparent form of a wafer1 it is evident that the wafer under chemical analysis would resolve itself into the same elements as before consecration2 therefore why consult chemistry8 ,what has chemistry to say to a mystery of this kind1 the essence of which is the complete disguise of a human body under a form in all respects answering the material semblance of a wafer8 ,ampre must have foreseen the certain results of analysis as clearly as the best chemist educated in the principles of ,protestantism1 but this did not prevent him from adoring the consecrated host in all the sincerity of his heart4 ,i say that it does not follow1 because ,m4 or ,n4 happens to be a ,protestant1 that he is intellectually superior to ,ampre1 or because ,m4 or ,n4 happens to be a ,unitarian1 or a ,deist1 or a ,positivist1 that he is intellectually superior to ,dr4 ,arnold or ,sydney ,smith4 ,and on the other side of this question it is equally unfair to conclude that because a man does not share whatever may be our theological beliefs on the positive side1 he must be less capable intellectually than we are4 ,two of the finest and most disciplined modern intellects1 ,comte and ,sainte-,beuve1 were neither ,catholics1 nor ,protestants1 nor ,deists1 but convinced atheists2 yet ,comte until the period of his decline1 and ,sainte-,beuve up to the very hour of his death1 were quite in the highest rank of modern scientific and literary intellect4 ,the inference from these facts which concerns every one of us is1 that we are not to build up any edifice of intellectual self-satisfaction on the ground that in theological matters we believe or disbelieve this thing or that4 ,if ,ampre believed the doctrines of the ,church of ,rome1 which to us seem so incredible1 if ,faraday remained throughout his brilliant intellectual career 7certainly one of the most brilliant ever lived through by a human being7 a sincere member of the obscure sect of the ,sandemanians1 we are not warranted in the conclusion that we are intellectually their betters because our theology is more novel1 or more fashionable1 or more in harmony with reason4 ,nor1 on the other hand1 does our orthodoxy prove anything in favor of our mental force and culture4 ,who1 amongst the most orthodox writers1 has a more forcible and cultivated intellect than ,sainte-,beuve8--who can better give us the tone of perfect culture1 with its love of justice1 its thoroughness in preparation1 its superiority to all crudeness and violence8 ,anglican or ,romanist1 dissenter or heretic1 may be our master in the intellectual sphere1 from which no sincere and capable laborer is excluded1 either by his belief or by his unbelief4 ,,letter ,,vi4 ,,to ,a ,,roman ,,catholic ,,friend ,,who ,,accused ,,the ,,intellectual ,,class ,,of ,a ,,want ,,of ,,reverence ,,for ,,authority4 ,necessity for treating affirmations as if they were doubtful--,the ,papal ,infallibility--,the ,infallibility of the ,sacred ,scriptures--,opposition of method between ,intellect and ,faith--,the perfection of the intellectual life requires intellectual methods--,inevitable action of the intellectual forces4 ,it is very much the custom1 in modern writing about liberty of thought1 to pass lightly over the central difficulty1 which sooner or later will have to be considered4 ,the difficulty is this1 that the freedom of the intellectual life can never be secured except by treating as if they were doubtful several affirmations which large masses of mankind hold to be certainties as indisputable as the facts of science4 ,one of the most recently conspicuous of these affirmations is the infallibility of the ,pope of ,rome4 ,nothing can be more certain in the opinion of immense numbers of ,roman ,catholics than the infallible authority of the ,supreme ,pontiff on all matters affecting doctrine4 ,but then the matters affecting doctrine include many subjects which come within the circle of the sciences4 ,history is one of those subjects which modern intellectual criticism takes leave to study after its own methods1 and yet certain prevalent views of history are offensive to the ,pope and explicitly condemned by him4 ,the consequence is1 that in order to study history with mental liberty1 we have to act practically as if there existed a doubt of the ,papal infallibility4 ,the same difficulty occurs with reference to the great ,protestant doctrine which attributes a similar infallibility to the various authors who composed what are now known to us as the ,holy ,scriptures4 ,our men of science act1 and the laws of scientific investigation compel them to act1 as if it were not quite certain that the views of scientific subjects held by those early writers were so final as to render modern investigation superfluous4 ,it is useless to disguise the fact that there is a real opposition of method between intellect and faith1 and that the independence of the intellectual life can never be fully secured unless all affirmations based upon authority are treated as if they were doubtful4 ,this implies no change of manner in the intellectual classes towards those classes whose mental habits are founded upon obedience4 ,i mean that the man of science does not treat the affirmations of any priesthood with less respect than the affirmations of his own scientific brethren2 he applies with perfect impartiality the same criticism to all affirmations1 from whatever source they emanate4 ,the intellect does not recognize authority in any one1 and intellectual men do not treat the ,pope1 or the author of ,genesis1 with less consideration than those famous persons who in their day have been the brightest luminaries of science4 ,the difficulty1 however1 remains1 that whilst the intellectual class has no wish to offend either those who believe in the infallibility of the ,pope1 or those who believe in the infallibility of the author of ,genesis1 it is compelled to conduct its own investigations as if those infallibilities were matters of doubt and not of certainty4 ,why this is so1 may be shown by a reference to the operation of ,nature in other ways4 ,the rewards of physical strength and health are not given to the most moral1 to the most humane1 to the most gentle1 but to those who have acted1 and whose forefathers have acted1 in the most perfect accordance with the laws of their physical constitution4 ,so the perfection of the intellectual life is not given to the most humble1 the most believing1 the most obedient1 but to those who use their minds according to the most purely intellectual methods4 ,one of the most important truths that human beings can know is the perfectly independent working of the natural laws3 one of the best practical conclusions to be drawn from the observation of ,nature is that in the conduct of our own understandings we should use a like independence4 ,it would be wrong1 in writing to you on subjects so important as these1 to shrink from handling the real difficulties4 ,every one now is aware that science must and will pursue her own methods and work according to her own laws1 without concerning herself with the most authoritative affirmations from without4 ,but if science said one thing and authoritative tradition said another1 no perfectly ingenuous person could rest contented until he had either reconciled the two or decidedly rejected one of them4 ,it is impossible for a mind which is honest towards itself to admit that a proposition is true and false at the same time1 true in science and false in theology4 ,therefore1 although the intellectual methods are entirely independent of tradition1 it may easily happen that the indirect results of our following those methods may be the overthrow of some dogma which has for many generations been considered indispensable to man's spiritual welfare4 ,with regard to this contingency it need only be observed that the intellectual forces of humanity must act1 like floods and winds1 according to their own laws2 and that if they cast down any edifice too weak to resist them1 it must be because the original constructors had not built it substantially1 or because those placed in charge of it had neglected to keep it in repair4 ,this is their business1 not ours4 ,our work is simply to ascertain truth by our own independent methods1 alike without hostility to any persons claiming authority1 and without deference to them4 ,,footnotes3 #f ,the title of this letter seems so odd1 that it may be necessary to inform the reader that it was addressed to a real person4 #g ,i had desired to say something about the uses of tradition in the industrial arts and in the fine arts1 but the subject is a very large one1 and ,i have not time or space to treat it properly here4 ,i may observe1 however1 briefly1 that the genuine spirit of tradition has almost entirely disappeared from ,english industry and art1 where it has been replaced by a spirit of scientific investigation and experiment4 ,the true traditional spirit was still in full vigor in ,japan a few years ago1 and it kept the industry and art of that country up to a remarkably high standard4 ,the traditional spirit is most favorable to professional skill1 because1 under its influence1 the apprentice learns thoroughly1 whereas under other influences he often learns very imperfectly4 ,the inferiority of ,english painting to ,french 7considered technically7 has been due to the prevalence of a traditional spirit in the ,french school which was almost entirely absent from our own4 ,,part ,,vii4 ,,women ,,and ,,marriage4 ,,letter ,i4 ,,to ,a ,,young ,,gentleman ,,of ,,intellectual ,,tastes1 ,,who1 ,,without ,,having ,,as ,,yet ,,any ,,particular ,,lady ,,in ,,view1 ,,had ,,expressed1 ,,in ,a ,,general ,,way1 ,,his ,,determination ,,to ,,get ,,married4 ,how ignorant we all are about marriage--,people wrong in their estimates of the marriages of others--,effects of marriage on the intellectual life--,two courses open--,a wife who would not interfere with elevated pursuits--,a wife capable of understanding them--,madame ,ingres--,difference in the education of the sexes--,difficulty of educating a wife4 ,the subject of marriage is one concerning which neither ,i nor anybody else can have more than an infinitesimally small atom of knowledge4 ,each of us knows how his or her own marriage has turned out2 but that1 in comparison with a knowledge of marriage generally1 is like a single plant in comparison with the flora of the globe4 ,the utmost experience on this subject to be found in this country extends to about three trials or experiments4 ,a man may become twice a widower1 and then marry a third time1 but it may be easily shown that the variety of his experience is more than counterbalanced by its incompleteness in each instance4 ,for the experiment to be conclusive even as to the wisdom of one decision1 it must extend over half a lifetime4 ,a true marriage is not a mere temporary arrangement1 and although a young couple are said to be married as soon as the lady has changed her name1 the truth is that the real marriage is a long slow intergrowth1 like that of two trees planted quite close together in the forest4 ,the subject of marriage generally is one of which men know less than they know of any other subject of universal interest4 ,people are almost always wrong in their estimates of the marriages of others1 and the best proof how little we know the real tastes and needs of those with whom we have been most intimate1 is our unfailing surprise at the marriages they make4 ,very old and experienced people fancy they know a great deal about younger couples1 but their guesses1 there is good reason to believe1 never exactly hit the mark4 ,ever since this idea1 that marriage is a subject we are all very ignorant about1 had taken root in my own mind1 many little incidents were perpetually occurring to confirm it2 they proved to me1 on the one hand1 how often ,i had been mistaken about other people1 and1 on the other hand1 how mistaken other people were concerning the only marriage ,i profess to know anything about1 namely1 my own4 ,our ignorance is all the darker that few men tell us the little that they know1 that little being too closely bound up with that innermost privacy of life which every man of right feeling respects in his own case1 as in the case of another4 ,the only instances which are laid bare to the public view are the unhappy marriages1 which are really not marriages at all4 ,an unhappy alliance bears exactly the same relation to a true marriage that disease does to health1 and the quarrels and misery of it are the crises by which ,nature tries to bring about either the recovery of happiness1 or the endurable peace of a settled separation4 ,all that we really know about marriage is that it is based upon the most powerful of all our instincts1 and that it shows its own justification in its fruits1 especially in the prolonged and watchful care of children4 ,but marriage is very complex in its effects1 and there is one set of effects1 resulting from it1 to which remarkably little attention has been paid hitherto1--,i mean its effects upon the intellectual life4 ,surely they deserve consideration by all who value culture4 ,i believe that for an intellectual man1 only two courses are open2 either he ought to marry some simple dutiful woman who will bear him children1 and see to the household matters1 and love him in a trustful spirit without jealousy of his occupations2 or else1 on the other hand1 he ought to marry some highly intelligent lady1 able to carry her education far beyond school experiences1 and willing to become his companion in the arduous paths of intellectual labor4 ,the danger in the first of the two cases is that pointed out by ,wordsworth in some verses addressed to lake-tourists who might feel inclined to buy a peasant's cottage in ,westmorland4 ,the tourist would spoil the little romantic spot if he bought it2 the charm of it is subtly dependent upon the poetry of a simple life1 and would be brushed away by the influence of the things that are necessary to people in the middle class4 ,i remember dining in a country inn with an ,english officer whose ideas were singularly unconventional4 ,we were waited upon by our host's daughter1 a beautiful girl1 whose manners were remarkable for their natural elegance and distinction4 ,it seemed to us both that no lady of rank could be more distinguished than she was2 and my companion said that he thought a gentleman might do worse than ask that girl to marry him1 and settle down quietly in that quiet mountain village1 far from the cares and vanities of the world4 ,that is a sort of dream which has occurred no doubt to many an honorable man4 ,some men have gone so far as to try to make the dream a reality1 and have married the beautiful peasant4 ,but the difficulty is that she does not remain what she was2 she becomes a sort of make-belief lady1 and then her ignorance1 which in her natural condition was a charming navet1 becomes an irritating defect4 ,if1 however it were possible for an intellectual man to marry some simple-hearted peasant girl1 and keep her carefully in her original condition1 ,i seriously believe that the venture would be less perilous to his culture than an alliance with some woman of our ,philistine classes1 equally incapable of comprehending his pursuits1 but much more likely to interfere with them4 ,i once had a conversation on this subject with a distinguished artist1 who is now a widower1 and who is certainly not likely to be prejudiced against marriage by his own experience1 which had been an unusually happy one4 ,his view was that a man devoted to art might marry either a plain-minded woman1 who would occupy herself exclusively with household matters and shield his peace by taking these cares upon herself1 or else a woman quite capable of entering into his artistic life2 but he was convinced that a marriage which exposed him to unintelligent criticism and interference would be dangerous in the highest degree4 ,and of the two kinds of marriage which he considered possible he preferred the former1 that with the entirely ignorant and simple person from whom no interference was to be apprehended4 ,he considered the first ,madame ,ingres the true model of an artist's wife1 because she did all in her power to guard her husband's peace against the daily cares of life and never herself disturbed it1 acting the part of a breakwater which protects a space of calm1 and never destroys the peace that it has made4 ,this may be true for artists whose occupation is rather sthetic than intellectual1 and does not get much help or benefit from talk2 but the ideal marriage for a man of great literary culture would be one permitting some equality of companionship1 or1 if not equality1 at least interest4 ,that this ideal is not a mere dream1 but may consolidate into a happy reality1 several examples prove2 yet these examples are not so numerous as to relieve me from anxiety about your chances of finding such companionship4 ,the different education of the two sexes separates them widely at the beginning1 and to meet on any common ground of culture a second education has to be gone through4 ,it rarely happens that there is resolution enough for this4 ,the want of thoroughness and reality in the education of both sexes1 but especially in that of women1 may be attributed to a sort of policy which is not very favorable to companionship in married life4 ,it appears to be thought wise to teach boys things which women do not learn1 in order to give women a degree of respect for men's attainments1 which they would not be so likely to feel if they were prepared to estimate them critically2 whilst girls are taught arts and languages which until recently were all but excluded from our public schools1 and won no rank at our universities4 ,men and women had consequently scarcely any common ground to meet upon1 and the absence of serious mental discipline in the training of women made them indisposed to submit to the irksomeness of that earnest intellectual labor which might have remedied the deficiency4 ,the total lack of accuracy in their mental habits was then1 and is still for the immense majority of women1 the least easily surmountable impediment to culture4 ,the history of many marriages which have failed to realize intellectual companionship is comprised in a sentence which was actually uttered by one of the most accomplished of my friends3 ,she knew nothing when ,i married her4 ,i tried to teach her something2 it made her angry1 and ,i gave it up4 ,,letter ,,ii4 ,,to ,a ,,young ,,gentleman ,,who ,,contemplated ,,marriage4 ,the foundations of the intellectual marriage--,marriage not a snare or pitfall for the intellectual--,men of culture1 who marry badly1 often have themselves to blame--,for every grade of the masculine intellect there exists a corresponding grade of the feminine intellect--,difficulty of finding the true mate--,french ,university ,professors--,an extreme case of intellectual separation--,regrets of a widow--,women help us less by adding to our knowledge than by understanding us4 ,in several letters which have preceded this ,i have indicated some of the differences between the female sex and ours1 and it is time to examine the true foundations of the intellectual marriage4 ,let me affirm1 to begin with1 my profound faith in the natural arrangement4 ,there is in nature so much evident care for the development of the intellectual life1 so much protection of it in the social order1 there are such admirable contrivances for continuing it from century to century1 that we may fairly count upon some provision for its necessities in marriage4 ,intellectual men are not less alive to the charms of women than other men are2 indeed the greatest of them have always delighted in the society of women4 ,if marriage were really dangerous to the intellectual life1 it would be a moral snare or pitfall1 from which the best and noblest would be least likely to escape4 ,it is hard to believe that the strong passions which so often accompany high intellectual gifts were intended either to drive their possessors into immorality or else to the misery of ill-assorted unions4 ,no1 there is such a thing as the intellectual marriage1 in which the intellect itself is married4 ,if such marriages are not frequent1 it is that they are not often made the deliberate purpose of a wise alliance4 ,men choose their wives because they are pretty1 or because they are rich1 or because they are well-connected1 but rarely for the permanent interest of their society4 ,yet who that had ever been condemned to the dreadful embarrassments of a tte--tte with an uncompanionable person1 could reflect without apprehension on a lifetime of such tte--ttes8 ,when intellectual men suffer from this misery they have themselves to blame4 ,what is the use of having any mental superiority1 if1 in a matter so enormously important as the choice of a companion for life1 it fails to give us a warning when the choice is absurdly unsuitable8 ,when men complain1 as they do not unfrequently1 that their wives have no ideas1 the question inevitably suggests itself1 why the superiority of the masculine intellect did not1 in these cases1 permit it to discover the defect in time8 ,if we are so clever as to be bored by ordinary women1 why cannot our cleverness find out the feminine cleverness which would respond to it8 ,what ,i am going to say now is in its very nature incapable of proof1 and yet the longer ,i live the more the truth of it is borne in upon me4 ,i feel convinced that for every grade of the masculine intellect there exists a corresponding grade of the feminine intellect1 so that a precisely suitable intellectual marriage is always possible for every one4 ,but since the higher intellects are rare1 and rare in proportion to their elevation1 it follows that the difficulty of finding the true mate increases with the mental strength and culture of the man4 ,if the mental princes1 as ,blake called himself1 are to marry the mental princesses1 they will not always discover them quite so easily as kings' sons find kings' daughters4 ,this difficulty of finding the true mate is the real reason why so many clever men marry silly or stupid women4 ,the women about them seem to be all very much alike1 mentally2 it seems hopeless to expect any real companionship1 and the clever men are decided by the color of a girl's eyes1 or a thousand pounds more in her dowry1 or her relationship to a peer of the realm4 ,it was remarked to me by a ,french university professor1 that although men in his position had on the whole much more culture than the middle class1 they had an extraordinary talent for winning the most vulgar and ignorant wives4 ,the explanation is1 that their marriages are not intellectual marriages at all4 ,the class of ,french professors is not advantageously situated2 it has not great facilities for choice4 ,their incomes are so small that1 unless helped by private means1 the first thing they can prudently look to in a wife is her utility as a domestic servant1 which1 in fact1 it is her destiny to become4 ,the intellectual disparity is from the beginning likely to be very great1 because the professor is confined to the country-town where his ,lyce happens to be situated1 and in that town he does not always see the most cultivated society4 ,he may be an intellectual prince1 but where is he to find his princess8 ,the marriage begins without the idea of intellectual companionship1 and it continues as it began4 ,the girl was uneducated3 it seems hopeless to try to educate the woman2 and then there is the supreme difficulty1 only to be overcome by two wills at once most resolute and most persistent1 namely1 how to find the time4 ,years pass2 the husband is occupied all day1 the wife needs to cheer herself with a little society1 and goes to sit with neighbors who are not likely to add anything valuable to her knowledge or to give any elevation to her thoughts4 ,then comes the final fixing and crystallization of her intellect1 after which1 however much pains and labor might be taken by the pair1 she is past the possibility of change4 ,these women are often so good and devoted that their husbands enjoy great happiness2 but it is a kind of happiness curiously independent of the lady's presence4 ,the professor may love his wife1 and fully appreciate her qualities as a housekeeper1 but he passes a more interesting evening with some male friend whose reading is equal to his own4 ,sometimes the lady perceives this1 and it is an element of sadness in her life4 ,i never see my husband1 she tells you1 not in anger4 ,his work occupies him all day1 and in the evening he sees his friends4 ,the pair walk out together twice a week4 ,i sometimes wonder what they say to each other during those conjugal promenades4 ,they talk about their children1 probably1 and the little recurring difficulties about money4 ,he cannot talk about his studies1 or the intellectual speculations which his studies continually suggest4 ,the most extreme cases of intellectual separation between husband and wife that ever came under my observation was1 however1 not that of a ,french professor1 but a highly-cultivated ,scotch lawyer4 ,he was one of the most intellectual men ,i ever knew--a little cynical1 but full of original power1 and uncommonly well-informed4 ,his theory was1 that women ought not to be admitted into the region of masculine thought--that it was not good for them2 and he acted so consistently up to this theory1 that although he would open his mind with the utmost frankness to a male acquaintance over the evening whisky-toddy1 there was not whisky enough in all ,scotland to make him frank in the presence of his wife4 ,she really knew nothing whatever about his intellectual existence2 and yet there was nothing in his ways of thinking which an honorable man need conceal from an intelligent woman4 ,his theory worked well enough in practice1 and his reserve was so perfect that it may be doubted whether even feminine subtlety ever suspected it4 ,the explanation of his system may perhaps have been this4 ,he was an exceedingly busy man2 he felt that he had not time to teach his wife to know him as he was1 and so preferred to leave her with her own conception of him1 rather than disturb that conception when he believed it impossible to replace it by a completely true one4 ,we all act in that way with those whom we consider quite excluded from our private range of thought4 ,all this may be very prudent and wise3 there may be degrees of conjugal felicity1 satisfactory in their way1 without intellectual intercourse1 and yet ,i cannot think that any man of high culture could regard his marriage as altogether a successful one so long as his wife remained shut out from his mental life4 ,nor is the exclusion always quite agreeable to the lady herself4 ,a widow said to me that her husband had never thought it necessary to try to raise her to his own level1 yet she believed that with his kindly help she might have attained it4 ,you with your masculine habits1 may observe1 as to this1 that if the lady had seriously cared to attain a higher level she might have achieved it by her own private independent effort4 ,but this is exactly what the feminine nature never does4 ,a clever woman is the best of pupils1 when she loves her teacher1 but the worst of solitary learners4 ,it is not by adding to our knowledge1 but by understanding us1 that women are our helpers4 ,they understand us far better than men do1 when once they have the degree of preliminary information which enables them to enter into our pursuits4 ,men are occupied with their personal works and thoughts1 and have wonderfully little sympathy left to enable them to comprehend us2 but a woman1 by her divine sympathy--divine indeed1 since it was given by ,god for this--can enter into our inmost thought1 and make allowances for all our difficulties4 ,talk about your work and its anxieties to a club of masculine friends1 they will give very little heed to you2 they are all thinking about themselves1 and they will dislike your egotism because they have so much egotism of their own1 which yours invades and inconveniences4 ,but talk in the same way to any woman who has education enough to enable her to follow you1 and she will listen so kindly1 and so very intelligently1 that you will be betrayed into interminable confidences4 ,now1 although an intellectual man may not care to make himself understood by all the people in the street1 it is not a good thing for him to feel that he is understood by nobody4 ,the intellectual life is sometimes a fearfully solitary one4 ,unless he lives in a great capital the man devoted to that life is more than all other men liable to suffer from isolation1 to feel utterly alone beneath the deafness of space and the silence of the stars4 ,give him one friend who can understand him1 who will not leave him1 who will always be accessible by day and night--one friend1 one kindly listener1 just one1 and the whole universe is changed4 ,it is deaf and indifferent no longer1 and whilst she listens1 it seems as if all men and angels listened also1 so perfectly his thought is mirrored in the light of her answering eyes4 ,,letter ,,iii4 ,,to ,a ,,young ,,gentleman ,,who ,,contemplated ,,marriage4 ,the intellectual ideal of marriage--,the danger of dulness--,to be counteracted only by the renewal of both minds--,example of ,lady ,baker--,separation of the sexes by an old prejudice about education--,this prejudice on the decline--,influence of the late ,prince ,consort4 ,how far may you hope to realize the intellectual ideal of marriage8 ,have ,i ever observed in actual life any approximate realization of that ideal8 ,these are the two questions which conclude and epitomize the last of your recent letters4 ,let me endeavor to answer them as satisfactorily as the obscurity of the subject will permit4 ,the intellectual ideal seems to be that of a conversation on all the subjects you most care about1 which should never lose its interest4 ,is it possible that two people should live together and talk to each other every day for twenty years without knowing each other's views too well for them to seem worth expressing or worth listening to8 ,there are friends whom we know too well1 so that our talk with them has less of refreshment and entertainment than a conversation with the first intelligent stranger on the quarter-deck of the steamboat4 ,it is evident that from the intellectual point of view this is the great danger of marriage4 ,it may become dull1 not because the mental force of either of the parties has declined1 but because each has come to know so accurately beforehand what the other will say on any given topic1 that inquiry is felt to be useless4 ,this too perfect intimacy1 which has ended many a friendship outside of marriage1 may also terminate the intellectual life in matrimony itself4 ,let us not pass too lightly over this danger1 for it is not to be denied4 ,unless carefully provided against1 it will gradually extinguish the light that plays between the wedded intelligences as the electric light burns between two carbon points4 ,i venture to suggest1 however1 that this evil may be counteracted by persons of some energy and originality4 ,this is one of those very numerous cases in which an evil is sure to arrive if nothing is done to prevent it1 yet in which the evil need not arrive when those whom it menaces are forewarned4 ,to take an illustration intelligible in these days of steam-engines4 ,we know that if the water is allowed to get very low in the boiler a destructive explosion will be the consequence2 yet1 since every stoker is aware of this1 such explosions are not of frequent occurrence4 ,that evil is continually approaching and yet continually averted by the exercise of human foresight4 ,let us suppose that a married couple are clearly aware that in the course of years their society is sure to become mutually uninteresting unless something is done to preserve the earlier zest of it4 ,what is that something8 ,that which an author does for the unknown multitude of his readers4 ,every author who succeeds takes the trouble to renew his mind either by fresh knowledge or new thoughts4 ,is it not at least equally worth while to do as much to preserve the interest of marriage8 ,without undervaluing the friendly adhesion of many readers1 without affecting any contempt for fame1 which is dearer to the human heart than wealth itself whenever it appears to be not wholly unattainable1 may not ,i safely affirm that the interest of married life1 from its very nearness1 has a still stronger influence upon the mind of any thinking person1 of either sex1 than the approbation of unnumbered readers in distinct countries or continents8 ,you never see the effect of your thinking on your readers2 they live and die far away from you1 a few write letters of praise or criticism1 the thousands give no sign4 ,but the wife is with you always1 she is almost as near to you as your own body2 the world1 to you1 is a figure-picture in which there is one figure1 the rest is merely background4 ,and if an author takes pains to renew his mind for the people in the background1 is it not at least equally worth your while to bring fresh thought for the renewal of your life with her8 ,this1 then1 is my theory of the intellectual marriage1 that the two wedded intellects ought to renew themselves continually for each other4 ,and ,i argue that if this were done in earnest1 the otherwise inevitable dulness would be perpetually kept at bay4 ,to the other question1 whether in actual life ,i have ever seen this realized1 ,i answer yes1 in several instances4 ,not in very many instances1 yet in more than one4 ,women1 when they have conceived the idea that this renewal is necessary1 have resolution enough for the realization of it4 ,there is hardly any task too hard for them1 if they believe it essential to the conjugal life4 ,i could give you the name and address of one who mastered ,greek in order not to be excluded from her husband's favorite pursuit2 others have mastered other languages for the same object1 and even some branch of science for which the feminine mind has less natural affinity than it has for imaginative literature4 ,their remarkable incapacity for independent mental labor is accompanied by an equally remarkable capacity for labor under an accepted masculine guidance4 ,in this connection ,i may without impropriety mention one ,englishwoman1 for she is already celebrated1 the wife of ,sir ,samuel ,baker1 the discoverer of the ,albert ,nyanza4 ,she stood with him on the shore of that unknown sea1 when first it was beheld by ,english eyes2 she had passed with him through all the hard preliminary toils and trials4 ,she had learned ,arabic with him in a year of necessary but wearisome delay2 her mind had travelled with his mind as her feet had followed his footsteps4 ,scarcely less beautiful1 if less heroic1 is the picture of the geologist's wife1 ,mrs4 ,buckland1 who taught herself to reconstruct broken fossils1 and did it with a surprising delicacy1 and patience1 and skill1 full of science1 yet more than science1 the perfection of feminine art4 ,the privacy of married life often prevents us from knowing the extent to which intelligent women have renewed their minds by fresh and varied culture for the purpose of retaining their ascendency over their husbands1 or to keep up the interest of their lives4 ,it is done much more frequently by women than by men4 ,they have so much less egotism1 so much more adaptability1 that they fit themselves to us oftener than we adapt ourselves to them4 ,but in a quiet perfect marriage these efforts would be mutual4 ,the husband would endeavor to make life interesting to his companion by taking a share in some pursuit which was really her own4 ,it is easier for us than it was for our ancestors to do this--at least for our immediate ancestors4 ,there existed1 fifty years ago1 a most irrational prejudice1 very strongly rooted in the social conventions of the time1 about masculine and feminine accomplishments4 ,the educations of the two sexes were so trenchantly separated that neither had access to the knowledge of the other4 ,the men had learned ,latin and ,greek1 of which the women were ignorant2 the women had learned ,french or ,italian1 which the men could neither read nor speak4 ,the ladies studied fine art1 not seriously1 but it occupied a good deal of their time and thoughts2 the gentlemen had a manly contempt for it1 which kept them1 as contempt always does1 in a state of absolute ignorance4 ,the intellectual separation of the sexes was made as complete as possible by the conventionally received idea that a man could not learn what girls learned without effeminacy1 and that if women aspired to men's knowledge they would forfeit the delicacy of their sex4 ,this illogical prejudice was based on a bad syllogism of this kind3-- ,girls speak ,french1 and learn music and drawing4 ,benjamin speaks ,french1 and learns music and drawing4 ,benjamin is a girl4 ,and the prejudice1 powerful as it was1 had not even the claim of any considerable antiquity4 ,think how strange and unreasonable it would have seemed to ,lady ,jane ,grey and ,sir ,philip ,sidney6 ,in their time1 ladies and gentlemen studied the same things1 the world of culture was the same for both1 and they could meet in it as in a garden4 ,happily we are coming back to the old rational notion of culture as independent of the question of sex4 ,latin and ,greek are not unfeminine2 they were spoken by women in ,athens and ,rome2 the modern languages are fit for a man to learn1 since men use them continually on the battle-fields and in the parliaments and exchanges of the world4 ,art is a manly business1 if ever any human occupation could be called manly1 for the utmost efforts of the strongest men are needed for success in it4 ,the increasing interest in the fine arts1 the more important position given to modern languages in the universities1 the irresistible attractions and growing authority of science1 all tend to bring men and women together on subjects understood by both1 and therefore operate directly in favor of intellectual interests in marriage4 ,you will not suspect me of a snobbish desire to pay compliments to royalty if ,i trace some of these changes in public opinion to the example and influence of the ,prince ,consort1 operating with some effect during his life1 yet with far greater force since he was taken away from us4 ,the truth is1 that the most modern ,english ideal of gentlemanly culture is that which ,prince ,albert1 to a great extent1 realized in his own person4 ,perhaps his various accomplishments may be a little embellished or exaggerated in the popular belief1 but it is unquestionable that his notion of culture was very large and liberal1 and quite beyond the narrow pedantry of the preceding age4 ,there was nothing in it to exclude a woman1 and we know that she who loved him entered largely into the works and recreations of his life4 ,,letter ,,iv4 ,,to ,a ,,young ,,gentleman ,,who ,,contemplated ,,marriage4 ,women do not of themselves undertake intellectual labor--,their resignation to ignorance--,absence of scientific curiosity in women--,they do not accumulate accurate knowledge--,archimedes in his bath--,rarity of inventions due to women--,exceptions4 ,before saying much about the influence of marriage on the intellectual life1 it is necessary to make some inquiry into the intellectual nature of women4 ,the first thing to be noted is that1 with exceptions so rare as to be practically of no importance to an argument1 women do not of themselves undertake intellectual labor4 ,even in the situations most favorable for labor of that kind1 women do not undertake it unless they are urged to it1 and directed in it1 by some powerful masculine influence4 ,in the absence of that influence1 although their minds are active1 that activity neither tends to discipline nor to the accumulation of knowledge4 ,women who are not impelled by some masculine influence are not superior1 either in knowledge or discipline of the mind1 at the age of fifty to what they were at the age of twenty-five4 ,in other words1 they have not in themselves the motive powers which can cause an intellectual advance4 ,the best illustration of this is a sisterhood of three or four rich old maids1 with all the advantages of leisure4 ,you will observe that they invariably remain1 as to their education1 where they were left by their teachers many years before4 ,they will often lament1 perhaps1 that in their day education was very inferior to what it is now2 but it never occurs to them that the large leisure of subsequent years might1 had it been well employed1 have supplied those deficiencies of which they are sensible4 ,nothing is more curiously remote from masculine habits than the resignation to particular degrees of ignorance1 as to the inevitable1 which a woman will express in a manner which says3 ,you know ,i am so2 you know that ,i cannot make myself better informed4 ,they are like perfect billiard-balls on a perfect table1 which stop when no longer impelled1 wherever they may happen to be4 ,it is this absence of intellectual initiative which causes the great ignorance of women4 ,what they have been well taught1 that they know1 but they do not increase their stores of knowledge4 ,even in what most interests them1 theology1 they repeat1 but do not extend1 their information4 ,all the effort of their minds appears 7so far as an outside observer may presume to judge7 to act like water on a picture1 which brings out the colors that already exist upon the canvas but does not add anything to the design4 ,there is a great and perpetual freshness and vividness in their conceptions1 which is often lacking in our own4 ,our conceptions fade1 and are replaced2 theirs are not replaced1 but refreshed4 ,what many women do for their theological conceptions or opinions1 others do with reference to the innumerable series of questions of all kinds which present themselves in the course of life4 ,they attempt to solve them by the help of knowledge acquired in girlhood2 and if that cannot be done1 they either give them up as beyond the domain of women1 or else trust to hearsay for a solution4 ,what they will not do is to hunt the matter out unaided1 and get an accurate answer by dint of independent investigation4 ,there is another characteristic of women1 not peculiar to them1 for many men have it in an astonishing degree1 and yet more general in the female sex than in the male3 ,i allude to the absence of scientific curiosity4 ,ladies see things of the greatest wonder and interest working in their presence and for their service without feeling impelled to make any inquiries into the manner of their working4 ,i could mention many very curious instances of this1 but ,i select one which seems typical4 ,many years ago ,i happened to be in a room filled with ,english ladies1 most of whom were highly intelligent1 and the conversation happened to turn upon a sailing-boat which belonged to me4 ,one of the ladies observed that sails were not of much use1 since they could only be available to push the boat in the direction of the wind2 a statement which all the other ladies received with approbation4 ,now1 all these ladies had seen ships working under canvas against head-winds1 and they might have reflected that without that portion of the art of seamanship every vessel unprovided with steam would assuredly drift upon a lee-shore2 but it was not in the feminine nature to make a scientific observation of that kind4 ,you will answer1 perhaps1 that ,i could scarcely expect ladies to investigate men's business1 and that seamanship is essentially the business of our own sex4 ,but the truth is1 that all ,english people1 no matter of what sex1 have so direct an interest in the maritime activity of ,england1 that they might reasonably be expected to know the one primary conquest on which for many centuries that activity has depended1 the conquest of the opposing wind1 the sublimest of the early victories of science4 ,and this absence of curiosity in women extends to things they use every day4 ,they never seem to want to know the insides of things as we do4 ,all ladies know that steam makes a locomotive go2 but they rest satisfied with that1 and do not inquire further how the steam sets the wheels in motion4 ,they know that it is necessary to wind up their watches1 but they do not care to inquire into the real effects of that little exercise of force4 ,now this absence of the investigating spirit has very wide and important consequences4 ,the first consequence of it is that women do not naturally accumulate accurate knowledge4 ,left to themselves1 they accept various kinds of teaching1 but they do not by any analysis of their own either put that teaching to any serious intellectual test1 or qualify themselves for any extension of it by independent and original discovery4 ,we of the male sex are seldom clearly aware how much of our practical force1 of the force which discovers and originates1 is due to our common habit of analytical observation2 yet it is scarcely too much to say that most of our inventions have been suggested by actually or intellectually pulling something else in pieces4 ,and such of our discoveries as cannot be traced directly to analysis are almost always due to habits of general observation which lead us to take note of some fact apparently quite remote from what it helps us to arrive at4 ,one of the best instances of this indirect utility of habitual observation1 as it is one of the earliest1 is what occurred to ,archimedes in his bath4 ,when the water displaced by his body overflowed1 he noticed the fact of displacement1 and at once perceived its applicability to the cubic measurement of complicated bodies4 ,it is possible that if his mind had not been exercised at the time about the adulteration of the royal crown1 it would not have been led to anything by the overflowing of his bath2 but the capacity to receive a suggestion of that kind is1 ,i believe1 a capacity exclusively masculine4 ,a woman would have noticed the overflowing1 but she would have noticed it only as a cause of disorder or inconvenience4 ,this absence of the investigating and discovering tendencies in women is confirmed by the extreme rarity of inventions due to women1 even in the things which most interest and concern them4 ,the stocking-loom and the sewing-machine are the two inventions which would most naturally have been hit upon by women1 for people are naturally inventive about things which relieve themselves of labor1 or which increase their own possibilities of production2 and yet the stocking-loom and the sewing-machine are both of them masculine ideas1 carried out to practical efficiency by masculine energy and perseverance4 ,so ,i believe that all the improvements in pianos are due to men1 though women have used pianos much more than men have used them4 ,this1 then1 is in my view the most important negative characteristic of women1 that they do not push forwards intellectually by their own force4 ,there have been a few instances in which they have written with power and originality1 have become learned1 and greatly superior1 no doubt1 to the majority of men4 ,there are three or four women in ,england1 and as many on the ,continent1 who have lived intellectually in harness for many years1 and who unaffectedly delight in strenuous intellectual labor1 giving evidence both of fine natural powers and the most persevering culture2 but these women have usually been encouraged in their work by some near masculine influence4 ,and even if it were possible1 which it is not1 to point to some female ,archimedes or ,leonardo da ,vinci1 it is not the rare exceptions which concern us1 but the prevalent rule of ,nature4 ,without desiring to compare our most learned ladies with anything so disagreeable to the eye as a bearded woman1 ,i may observe that ,nature generally has a few exceptions to all her rules1 and that as women having beards are a physical exception1 so women who naturally study and investigate are intellectual exceptions4 ,once more let me repudiate any malicious intention in establishing so unfortunate and maladroite an association of ideas1 for nothing is less agreeable than a woman with a beard1 whilst1 on the contrary1 the most intellectual of women may at the same time be the most permanently charming4 ,,letter ,v4 ,,to ,a ,,young ,,gentleman ,,who ,,contemplated ,,marriage4 ,the danger of deviation--,danger from increased expenditure--,nowhere so great as in ,england--,complete absorption in business--,case of a tradesman--,case of a solicitor--,the pursuit of comfort dangerous to the ,intellectual ,life--,the meanness of its results--,fireside purposes--,danger of deviation in rich marriages--,george ,sand's study of this in her story of ,valvdre4 ,amongst the dangers of marriage1 one of those most to be dreaded by a man given to intellectual pursuits is the deviation which1 in one way or other1 marriage inevitably produces4 ,it acts like the pointsman on a railway1 who1 by pulling a lever1 sends the train in another direction4 ,the married man never goes1 or hardly ever goes1 exactly on the same intellectual lines which he would have followed if he had remained a bachelor4 ,this deviation may or may not be a gain2 it is always a most serious danger4 ,sometimes the deviation is produced by the necessity for a stricter attention to money1 causing a more unremitting application to work that pays well1 and a proportionate neglect of that which can only give extension to our knowledge and clearness to our views4 ,in no country is this danger so great as it is in ,england1 where the generally expensive manner of living1 and the prevalent desire to keep families in an ideally perfect state of physical comfort1 produce an absorption in business which in all but the rarest instances leaves no margin for intellectual labor4 ,there are1 no doubt1 some remarkable examples of men earning a large income by a laborious profession1 who have gained reputation in one of the sciences or in some branch of literature1 but these are very exceptional cases4 ,a man who works at his profession as most ,englishmen with large families have to work1 can seldom enjoy that surplus of nervous energy which would be necessary to carry him far in literature or science4 ,i remember meeting an ,english tradesman in the railway between ,paris and the coast1 who told me that he was obliged to visit ,france very frequently1 yet could not speak ,french1 which was a great deficiency and inconvenience to him4 ,why not learn8 ,i then asked1 and received the following answer3 ,i have to work at my business all day long1 and often far into the night4 ,when the day's work is over ,i generally feel very tired1 and want rest2 but if ,i don't happen to feel quite so tired1 then it is not work that ,i need1 but recreation1 of which ,i get very little4 ,i never feel the courage to set to work at the ,french grammar1 though it would be both pleasant and useful to me to know ,french2 indeed1 ,i constantly feel the want of it4 ,it might1 perhaps1 be possible to learn from a phrase-book in the railway train1 but to save time ,i always travel at night4 ,being a married man1 ,i have to give my whole attention to my business4 ,a solicitor with a large practice in ,london held nearly the same language4 ,he worked at his office all day1 and often brought home the most difficult work for the quiet of his own private study after the household had gone to bed4 ,the little reading that he could indulge in was light reading4 ,in reality the profession intruded even on his few hours of leisure1 for he read many of the columns in the ,times which relate to law or legislation1 and these make at the end of a few years an amount of reading sufficient for the mastery of a foreign literature4 ,this gentleman answered very accurately to ,m4 ,taine's description of the typical ,englishman1 absorbed in business and the ,times4 ,in these cases it is likely that the effect of marriage was not inwardly felt as a deviation2 but when culture has been fairly begun1 and marriage hinders the pursuit of it1 or makes it deviate from the chosen path1 then there is often an inward consciousness of the fact1 not without its bitterness4 ,a remarkable article on ,luxury1 in the second volume of the ,cornhill ,magazine1 deals with this subject in a manner evidently suggested by serious reflection and experience4 ,the writer considers the effects of the pursuit of comfort 7never carried so far as it is now7 on the higher moral and intellectual life4 ,the comforts of a bachelor were not what the writer meant2 these are easily procured1 and seldom require the devotion of all the energies4 ,the comfort which is really dangerous to intellectual growth is that of a family establishment1 because it so easily becomes the one absorbing object of existence4 ,men who began life with the feeling that they would willingly devote their powers to great purposes1 like the noble examples of past times who labored and suffered for the intellectual advancement of their race1 and had starvation for their reward1 or in some cases even the prison and the stake--men who in their youth felt themselves to be heirs of a nobility of spirit like that of ,bruno1 of ,swammerdam1 of ,spinoza1 have too often found themselves in the noon of life concentrating all the energies of body and soul on the acquisition of ugly millinery and uglier upholstery1 and on spreading extravagant tables to feed uncultivated guests4 ,it is impossible1 says the writer of the article just alluded to1 it is impossible to say why men were made1 but assuming that they were made for some purpose1 of which the faculties which they possess afford evidence1 it follows that they were intended to do many other things besides providing for their families and enjoying their society4 ,they were meant to know1 to act1 and to feel--to know everything which the mind is able to contemplate1 to name1 and to classify2 to do everything which the will1 prompted by the passions and guided by the conscience1 can undertake2 and1 subject to the same guidance1 to feel in its utmost vigor every emotion which the contemplation of the various persons and objects which surround us can excite4 ,this view of the objects of life affords an almost infinite scope for human activity in different directions2 but it also shows that it is in the highest degree dangerous to its beauty and its worth to allow any one side of life to become the object of idolatry2 and there are many reasons for thinking that domestic happiness is rapidly assuming that position in the minds of the more comfortable classes of ,englishmen4444 ,it is a singular and affecting thing1 to see how every manifestation of human energy bears witness to the shrewdness of the current maxim that a large income is a necessary of life4 ,whatever is done for money is done admirably well4 ,give a man a specific thing to make or to write1 and pay him well for it1 and you may with a little trouble secure an excellent article2 but the ability which does these things so well1 might have been and ought to have been trained to far higher things1 which for the most part are left undone1 because the clever workman thinks himself bound to earn what will keep himself1 his wife1 and his six or seven children1 up to the established standard of comfort4 ,what was at first a necessity1 perhaps an unwelcome one1 becomes by degrees a habit and a pleasure1 and men who might have done memorable and noble things1 if they had learnt in time to consider the doing of such things an object worth living for1 lose the power and the wish to live for other than fireside purposes4 ,but this kind of intellectual deviation1 you may answer1 is not strictly the consequence of marriage1 qu marriage2 it is one of the consequences of a degree of relative poverty1 produced by the larger expenditure of married life1 but which might be just as easily produced by a certain degree of money-pressure in the condition of a bachelor4 ,let me therefore point out a kind of deviation which may be as frequently observed in rich marriages as in poor ones4 ,suppose the case of a bachelor with a small but perfectly independent income amounting to some hundreds a year1 who is devoted to intellectual pursuits1 and spends his time in study or with cultivated friends of his own1 choosing friends whose society is an encouragement and a help4 ,suppose that this man makes an exceedingly prudent marriage1 with a rich woman1 you may safely predict1 in this instance1 intellectual deviations of a kind perilous to the highest culture4 ,he will have new calls upon his time1 his society will no longer be entirely of his own choosing1 he will no longer be able to devote himself with absolute singleness of purpose to studies from which his wife must necessarily be excluded4 ,if he were to continue faithful to his old habits1 and shut himself up every day in his library or laboratory1 or set out on frequent scientific expeditions1 his wife would either be a lady of quite extraordinary perfection of temper1 or else entirely indifferent in her feelings towards him1 if she did not regard his pursuits with quickly-increasing jealousy4 ,she would think1 and justifiably think1 that he ought to give more of his time to the enjoyment of her society1 that he ought to be more by her side in the carriage and in the drawing-room1 and if he loved her he would yield to these kindly and reasonable wishes4 ,he would spend many hours of every day in a manner not profitable to his great pursuits1 and many weeks of every year in visits to her friends4 ,his position would be even less favorable to study in some respects than that of a professional man4 ,it would be difficult for him1 if an amateur artist1 to give that unremitting attention to painting which the professional painter gives4 ,he could not say1 ,i do this for you and for our children2 he could only say1 ,i do it for my own pleasure1 which is not so graceful an excuse4 ,as a bachelor1 he might work as professional people work1 but his marriage would strongly accentuate the amateur character of his position4 ,it is possible that if his labors had won great fame the lady might bear the separation more easily1 for ladies always take a noble pride in the celebrity of their husbands2 but the best and worthiest intellectual labor often brings no fame whatever1 and notoriety is a mere accident of some departments of the intellectual life1 and not its ultimate object4 ,george ,sand1 in her admirable novel ,valvdre1 has depicted a situation of this kind with the most careful delicacy of touch4 ,valvdre was a man of science1 who attempted to continue the labors of his intellectual life after marriage had united him to a lady incapable of sharing them4 ,the reader pities both1 and sympathizes with both4 ,it is hard1 on the one hand1 that a man endowed by nature with great talents for scientific work should not go on with a career already gloriously begun2 and yet1 on the other hand1 a woman who is so frequently abandoned for science may blamelessly feel some jealousy of science4 ,valvdre1 in narrating the story of his unhappy wedded life1 said that ,alida wished to have at her orders a perfect gentleman to accompany her1 but that he felt in himself a more serious ambition4 ,he had not aimed at fame1 but he had thought it possible to become a useful servant1 bringing his share of patient and courageous seekings to the edifice of the sciences4 ,he had hoped that ,alida would understand this4 ',there is time enough for everything1' she said1 still retaining him in the useless wandering life that she had chosen4 ',perhaps1' he answered1 'but on condition that ,i lose no more of it2 and it is not in this wandering life1 cut to pieces by a thousand unforeseen interruptions1 that ,i can make the hours yield their profit4' ',ah6 we come to the point6' exclaimed ,alida impetuously4 ',you wish to leave me1 and to travel alone in impossible regions4' ',no1 ,i will work near you and abandon certain observations which it would be necessary to make at too great a distance1 but you also will sacrifice something3 we will not see so many idle people1 we will settle somewhere for a fixed time4 ,it shall be where you will1 and if the place does not suit you1 we will try another2 but from time to time you will permit me a phase of sedentary work4' ',yes1 yes1 you want to live for yourself alone2 you have lived enough for me4 ,i understand2 your love is satiated and at an end4' ,nothing could conquer her conviction that study was her rival1 and that love was only possible in idleness4 ',to love is everything1' she said2 'and he who loves has not time to concern himself with anything else4 ,whilst the husband is intoxicating himself with the marvels of science1 the wife languishes and dies4 ,it is the destiny which awaits me2 and since ,i am a burden to you1 ,i should do better to die at once4' ,a little later ,valvdre ventured to hint something about work1 hoping to conquer his wife's ennui1 on which she proclaimed the hatred of work as a sacred right of her nature and position4 ',nobody ever taught me to work1' she said1 'and ,i did not marry under a promise to begin again at the a1 b1 c of things4 ,whatever ,i know ,i have learned by intuition1 by reading without aim or method4 ,i am a woman2 my destiny is to love my husband and bring up children4 ,it is very strange that my husband should be the person who counsels me to think of something better4' ,i am far from suggesting that ,madame ,valvdre is an exact representative of her sex1 but the sentiments which in her are exaggerated1 and expressed with passionate plainness1 are in much milder form very prevalent sentiments indeed2 and ,valvdre's great difficulty1 how to get leave to prosecute his studies with the degree of devotion necessary to make them fruitful1 is not at all an uncommon difficulty with intellectual men after marriage4 ,the character of ,madame ,valvdre1 being passionate and excessive1 led her to an open expression of her feelings2 but feelings of a like kind1 though milder in degree1 exist frequently below the surface1 and may be detected by any vigilant observer of human nature4 ,that such feelings are very natural it is impossible even for a savant to deny2 but whilst admitting the clear right of a woman to be preferred by a man to science when once he has married her1 let me observe that the man might perhaps do wisely1 before the knot is tied1 to ascertain whether her intellectual dowry is rich enough to compensate him for the sacrifices she is likely to exact4 ,,letter ,,vi4 ,,to ,a ,,solitary ,,student4 ,need of a near intellectual friendship in solitude--,persons who live independently of custom run a peculiar risk in marriage--,women by nature more subservient to custom than men are--,difficulty of conciliating solitude and marriage--,de ,snancour--,the marriages of eccentrics--,their wives either protect them or attempt to reform them4 ,isolated as you are1 by the very superiority of your culture1 from the ignorant provincial world around you1 ,i cannot but believe that marriage is essential to your intellectual health and welfare4 ,if you married some cultivated woman1 bred in the cultivated society of a great capital1 that companionship would give you an independence of surrounding influences which nothing else can give4 ,you fancy that by shutting yourself up in a country house you are uninfluenced by the world around you4 ,it is a great error4 ,you know that you are isolated1 that you are looked upon and probably ridiculed as an eccentric1 and this knowledge1 which it is impossible to banish from your mind1 deprives your thinking of elasticity and grace4 ,you urgently need the support of an intellectual friendship quite near to you1 under your own roof4 ,bachelors in great cities feel this necessity less4 ,still remember1 that whoever has arranged his life independently of custom runs a peculiar risk in marriage4 ,women are by nature far more subservient to custom than we are1 more than we can easily conceive4 ,the danger of marriage1 for a person of your tastes1 is that a woman entering your house might enter it as the representative of that minutely-interfering authority which you continually ignore4 ,and let us never forget that a perfect obedience to custom requires great sacrifices of time and money that you might not be disposed to make1 and which certainly would interfere with study4 ,you value and enjoy your solitude1 well knowing how great a thing it is to be master of all your hours4 ,it is difficult to conciliate solitude1 or even a wise and suitable selection of acquaintances1 with the semi-publicity of marriage4 ,heads of families receive many persons in their houses whom they would never have invited1 and from whose society they derive little pleasure and no profit4 ,de ,snancour had plans of studious retirement1 and hoped that the douce intimit of marriage might be compatible with these cherished projects4 ,but marriage1 he found1 drew him into the circle of ordinary provincial life1 and he always suffered from its influences4 ,you are necessarily an eccentric4 ,in the neighborhood where you live it is an eccentricity to study1 for nobody but you studies anything4 ,a man so situated is fortunate when this feeling of eccentricity is alleviated1 and unfortunate when it is increased4 ,a wife would certainly do one or the other4 ,married to a very superior woman1 able to understand the devotion to intellectual aims1 you would be much relieved of the painful consciousness of eccentricity2 but a woman of less capacity would intensify it4 ,so far as we can observe the married life of others1 it seems to me that ,i have met with instances of men1 constituted and occupied very much as you are1 who have found in marriage a strong protection against the ignorant judgments of their neighbors1 and an assurance of intellectual peace2 whilst in other cases it has appeared rather as if their solitude were made more a cause of conscious suffering1 as if the walls of their cabinets were pulled down for the boobies outside to stare at them and laugh at them4 ,a woman will either take your side against the customs of the little world around1 or she will take the side of custom against you4 ,if she loves you deeply1 and if there is some visible result of your labors in fame and money1 she may possibly do the first1 and then she will protect your tranquillity better than a force of policemen1 and give you a delightful sense of reconciliation with all humanity2 but many of her most powerful instincts tend the other way4 ,she has a natural sympathy with all the observances of custom1 and you neglect them2 she is fitted for social life1 which you are not4 ,unless you win her wholly to your side1 she may undertake the enterprise of curing your eccentricities and adapting you to the ideal of her caste4 ,this may be highly satisfactory to the operator1 but it is full of inconveniences to the patient4 ,,letter ,,vii4 ,,to ,a ,,lady ,,of ,,high ,,culture ,,who ,,found ,,it ,,difficult ,,to ,,associate ,,with ,,persons ,,of ,,her ,,own ,,sex4 ,men are not very good judges of feminine conversation--,the interest of it would be increased if women could be more freely initiated into great subjects--,small subjects interesting when seen in relation to central ideas--,that ladies of superior faculty ought rather to elevate female society than withdraw from it--,women when displaced do not appear happy4 ,what you confided to me in our last interesting conversation has given me material for reflection1 and afforded a glimpse of a state of things which ,i have sometimes suspected without having data for any positive conclusion4 ,the society of women is usually sought by men during hours of mental relaxation1 and we naturally find such a charm in their mere presence1 especially when they are graceful or beautiful1 that we are not very severe or even accurate judges of the abstract intellectual quality of their talk4 ,but a woman cannot feel the indescribable charm which wins us so easily1 and ,i have sometimes thought that a superior person of your sex might be aware of certain deficiencies in her sisters which men very readily overlook4 ,you tell me that you feel embarrassed in the society of ladies1 because they know so little about the subjects which interest you1 and are astonished when you speak about anything really worth attention4 ,on the other hand1 you feel perfectly at ease with men of ability and culture1 and most at your ease with men of the best ability and the most eminent attainments4 ,what you complain of chiefly in women seems to be their impatience of varieties of thought which are unfamiliar to them1 and their constant preference for small topics4 ,it has long been felt by men that if women could be more freely initiated into great subjects the interest of general conversation would be much increased4 ,the difficulty appears to lie in their instinctive habit of making all questions personal questions4 ,the etiquette of society makes it quite impossible for men to speak to ladies in the manner which would be intellectually most profitable to them4 ,we may not teach because it is pedantic1 and we may not contradict1 because it is rude4 ,most of the great subjects are conventionally held to be closed1 so that it is a sin against good taste to discuss them4 ,in every house the ladies have a set of fixed convictions of some kind1 which it is not polite in any man to appear to doubt4 ,the consequence of these conventional rules is that women live in an atmosphere of acquiescence which makes them intolerant of anything like bold and original thinking on important subjects4 ,but as the mind always requires free play of some kind1 when all the great subjects are forbidden it will use its activity in playing about little ones4 ,for my part ,i hardly think it desirable for any of us to be incessantly coping with great subjects1 and the ladies are right in taking a lively interest in the small events around them4 ,but even the small events would have a deeper interest if they were seen in their true relations to the great currents of ,european thought and action4 ,it is probably the ignorance of these relations which1 more than the smallness of the topics themselves1 makes feminine talk fatiguing to you4 ,very small things indeed have an interest when exhibited in relation to larger1 as men of science are continually demonstrating4 ,i have been taking note lately of the talk that goes on around me1 and ,i find that when it is shallow and wearisome it is always because the facts mentioned bear no reference to any central or governing idea1 and do not illustrate anything4 ,conversation is interesting in proportion to the originality of the central ideas which serve as pivots1 and the fitness of the little facts and observations which are contributed by the talkers4 ,for instance1 if people happened to be talking about rats1 and some one informed you that he had seen a rat last week1 that would be quite uninteresting3 but you would listen with greater attention if he said2 ,the other night1 as ,i was going up stairs very late1 ,i followed a very fine rat who was going up stairs too1 and he was not in the least hurried1 but stopped after every two or three steps to have a look at me and my candle4 ,he was very prettily marked about the face and tail1 so ,i concluded that he was not a common rat1 but probably a lemming4 ,two nights afterwards ,i met him again1 and this time he seemed almost to know me1 for he quietly made room for me as ,i passed4 ,very likely he might be easily tamed4 ,this is interesting1 because1 though the fact narrated is still trifling1 it illustrates animal character4 ,if you will kindly pardon an improvement of this subject1 as a preacher would call it1 ,i might add that an intellectual lady like yourself might1 perhaps1 do better to raise the tone of the feminine talk around her than to withdraw from it in weariness4 ,there are always1 in every circle1 a few superior persons who1 either from natural diffidence1 or because they are not very rich1 or because they are too young1 suffer themselves to be entirely overwhelmed by the established mediocrity around them4 ,what they need is a leader1 a deliverer4 ,is it not in your power to render services of this kind8 ,could you not select from the younger ladies whom you habitually meet1 a few who1 like yourself1 feel bored by the dulness or triviality of what you describe as the current feminine conversation8 ,there is often a painful shyness which prevents people of real ability from using it for the advantage of others1 and this shyness is nowhere so common as in ,england1 especially provincial ,england4 ,it feels the want of a hardy example4 ,a lady who talked really well would no doubt run some risk of being rather unpleasantly isolated at first1 but surely1 if she tried1 she might ultimately find accomplices4 ,you could do much1 to begin with1 by recommending high-toned literature1 and gradually awakening an interest in what is truly worth attention4 ,it seems lamentable that every cultivated woman should be forced out of the society of her own sex1 and made to depend upon ours for conversation of that kind which is an absolute necessity to the intellectual4 ,the truth is1 that women so displaced never appear altogether happy4 ,and culture costs so much downright hard work1 that it ought not to be paid for by any suffering beyond those toils which are its fair and natural price4 ,,letter ,,viii4 ,,to ,a ,,lady ,,of ,,high ,,culture4 ,greatest misfortune in the intellectual life of women--,they do not hear truth--,men disguise their thoughts for women--,cream and curaoa--,probable permanence of the desire to please women--,most truth in cultivated society--,hopes from the increase of culture4 ,i think that the greatest misfortune in the intellectual life of women is that they do not hear the truth from men4 ,all men in cultivated society say to women as much as possible that which they may be supposed to wish to hear1 and women are so much accustomed to this that they can scarcely hear without resentment an expression of opinion which takes no account of their personal and private feeling4 ,the consideration for the feelings of women gives an agreeable tone to society1 but it is fatal to the severity of truth4 ,observe a man of the world whose opinions are well known to you1--notice the little pause before he speaks to a lady4 ,during that little pause he is turning over what he has to say1 so as to present it in the manner that will please her best2 and you may be sure that the integrity of truth will suffer in the process4 ,if we compare what we know of the man with that which the lady hears from him1 we perceive the immense disadvantages of her position4 ,he ascertains what will please her1 and that is what he administers4 ,he professes to take a deep interest in things which he does not care for in the least1 and he passes lightly over subjects and events which he knows to be of the most momentous importance to the world4 ,the lady spends an hour more agreeably than if she heard opinions which would irritate1 and prognostics which would alarm her1 but she has missed an opportunity for culture1 she has been confirmed in feminine illusions4 ,if this happened only from time to time1 the effect would not tell so much on the mental constitution2 but it is incessant1 it is continual4 ,men disguise their thoughts for women as if to venture into the feminine world were as dangerous as travelling in ,arabia1 or as if the thoughts themselves were criminal4 ,there appeared two or three years ago in ,punch a clever drawing which might have served as an illustration to this subject4 ,a fashionable doctor was visiting a lady in ,belgravia who complained that she suffered from debility4 ,cod-liver oil being repugnant to her taste1 the agreeable doctor1 wise in his generation1 blandly suggested as an effective substitute a mixture of cream and curaoa4 ,what that intelligent man did for his patient's physical constitution1 all men of politeness do for the intellectual constitution of ladies4 ,instead of administering the truth which would strengthen1 though unpalatable1 they administer intellectual cream and curaoa4 ,the primary cause of this tendency to say what is most pleasing to women is likely to be as permanent as the distinction of sex itself4 ,it springs directly from sexual feelings1 it is hereditary and instinctive4 ,men will never talk to women with that rough frankness which they use between themselves4 ,conversation between the sexes will always be partially insincere4 ,still ,i think that the more women are respected1 the more men will desire to be approved by them for what they are in reality1 and the less they will care for approval which is obtained by dissimulation4 ,it may be observed already that1 in the most intellectual society of great capitals1 men are considerably more outspoken before women than they are in the provincial middle-classes4 ,where women have most culture1 men are most open and sincere4 ,indeed1 the highest culture has a direct tendency to command sincerity in others1 both because it is tolerant of variety in opinion1 and because it is so penetrating that dissimulation is felt to be of no use4 ,by the side of an uncultivated woman1 a man feels that if he says anything different from what she has been accustomed to she will take offence1 whilst if he says anything beyond the narrow range of her information he will make her cold and uncomfortable4 ,the most honest of men1 in such a position1 finds it necessary to be very cautious1 and can scarcely avoid a little insincerity4 ,but with a woman of culture equal to his own1 these causes for apprehension have no existence1 and he can safely be more himself4 ,these considerations lead me to hope that as culture becomes more general women will hear truth more frequently4 ,whenever this comes to pass1 it will be1 to them1 an immense intellectual gain4 ,,letter ,,ix4 ,,to ,a ,,young ,,man ,,of ,,the ,,middle ,,class1 ,,well ,,educated1 ,,who ,,complained ,,that ,,it ,,was ,,difficult ,,for ,,him ,,to ,,live ,,agreeably ,,with ,,his ,,mother1 ,a ,,person ,,of ,,somewhat ,,authoritative ,,disposition1 ,,but ,,uneducated4 ,a sort of misunderstanding common in modern households--,intolerance of inaccuracy--,a false position--,a lady not easily intimidated--,difficulty of arguing when you have to teach--,instance about the ,american ,war--,the best course in discussion with ladies--,women spoilt by non-contradiction--,they make all questions personal--,the strength of their feelings--,their indifference to matters of fact4 ,i have been thinking a good deal1 and seriously1 since we last met1 about the subject of our conversation1 which though a painful one is not to be timidly avoided4 ,the degree of unhappiness in your little household1 which ought to be one of the pleasantest of households1 yet which1 as you confided to me1 is overshadowed by a continual misunderstanding1 is1 ,i fear1 very common indeed at the present day4 ,it is only by great forbearance1 and great skill1 that any household in which persons of very different degrees of culture have to live together on terms of equality1 can be maintained in perfect peace2 and neither the art nor the forbearance is naturally an attribute of youth4 ,a man whose scholarly attainments were equal to your own1 and whose experience of men and women was wider1 could no doubt offer you counsel both wise and practical1 yet ,i can hardly say that ,i should like you better if you followed it4 ,i cannot blame you for having the natural characteristics of your years1 an honest love of the best truth that you have attained to1 an intolerance of inaccuracy on all subjects1 a simple faith in the possibility of teaching others1 even elderly ladies1 when they happen to know less than yourself4 ,all these characteristics are in themselves blameless2 and yet in your case1 and in thousands of other similar cases1 they often bring clouds of storm and trial upon houses which1 in a less rapidly progressive century than our own1 might have been blessed with uninterrupted peace4 ,the truth is1 that you are in a false position relatively to your mother1 and your mother is in a false position relatively to you4 ,she expects deference1 and deference is scarcely compatible with contradiction2 certainly1 if there be contradiction at all1 it must be very rare1 very careful1 and very delicate4 ,you1 on the other hand1 although no doubt full of respect and affection for your mother in your heart1 cannot hear her authoritatively enunciating anything that you know to be erroneous1 without feeling irresistibly urged to set her right4 ,she is rather a talkative lady2 she does not like to hear a conversation going forward without taking a part in it1 and rather an important part1 so that whatever subject is talked about in her presence1 that subject she will talk about also4 ,even before specialists your mother has an independence of opinion1 and a degree of faith in her own conclusions1 which would be admirable if they were founded upon right reason and a careful study of the subject4 ,medical men1 and even lawyers1 do not intimidate her2 she is convinced that she knows more about disease than the physician1 and more about legal business than an old attorney4 ,in theology no parson can approach her2 but here a woman may consider herself on her own ground1 as theology is the speciality of women4 ,all this puts you out of patience1 and it is intelligible that1 for a young gentleman of intellectual habits and somewhat ardent temperament like yourself1 it must be at times rather trying to have an ,,authority at hand ever ready to settle all questions in a decisive manner4 ,to you ,i have no counsel to offer but that of unconditional submission4 ,you have the weakness to enter into arguments when to sustain them you must assume the part of a teacher4 ,in arguing with a person already well-informed upon the subject in dispute1 you may politely refer to knowledge which he already possesses1 but when he does not possess the knowledge you cannot argue with him2 you must first teach him1 you must become didactic1 and therefore odious4 ,i remember a great scene which took place between you and your mother concerning the ,american ,war4 ,it was brought on by a too precise answer of yours relatively to your friend ,b41 who had emigrated to ,america4 ,you mother asked to what part of ,america ,b4 had emigrated1 and you answered1 ,the ,argentine ,republic4 ,a shade of displeasure clouded your mother's countenance1 because she did not know where the ,argentine ,republic might be1 and betrayed it by her manner4 ,you imprudently added that it was in ,south ,america4 ,yes1 yes1 ,i know very well1 she answered2 there was a great battle there during the ,american ,war4 ,it is well your friend was not there under ,jefferson ,davis4 ,now1 permit me to observe1 my estimable young friend1 that this was what the ,french call a fine opportunity for holding your tongue1 but your missed it4 ,fired with an enthusiasm for truth 7always dangerous to the peace of families71 you began to explain to the good lady that the ,argentine ,republic1 though in ,south ,america1 was not one of the ,southern ,states of the ,union4 ,this led to a scene of which ,i was the embarrassed and unwilling witness4 ,your mother vehemently affirmed that all the ,southern ,states had been under ,jefferson ,davis1 that she knew the fact perfectly1 that it had always been known to every one during the war1 and that1 consequently1 as the ,argentine ,republic was in ,south ,america1 the ,argentine ,republic had been under ,jefferson ,davis4 ,rapidly warming with this discussion1 your mother supposed that you would deny next that there had ever been such a thing as a war between the ,north and the ,south4 ,then you1 in your turn1 lost temper1 and you fetched an atlas for the purpose of explaining that the southern division of the continent of ,america was not the southern half of the ,united ,states4 ,you were landed1 as people always are landed when they prosecute an argument with the ignorant1 in the thankless office of the schoolmaster4 ,you were actually trying to give your mother a lesson in geography6 ,she was not grateful to you for your didactic attentions4 ,she glanced at the book as people glance at an offered dish which they dislike4 ,she does not understand maps2 the representation of places in geographical topography has never been quite clear to her4 ,your little geographical lecture irritated1 but did not inform2 it clouded the countenance1 but did not illuminate the understanding4 ,the distinction between ,south ,america and the ,southern ,states is not easy to the non-analytic mind under any circumstances1 but when amour propre is involved it becomes impossible4 ,i believe that the best course in discussions of this kind with ladies is simply to say once what is true1 for the acquittal of your own conscience1 but after that to remain silent on that topic1 leaving the last word to the lady1 who will probably simply re-affirm what she has already said4 ,for example1 in the discussion about the ,argentine ,republic1 your proper course would have been to say first1 firmly1 that the territory in question was not a part of the seceded ,states and had never been in the ,union1 with a brief and decided geographical explanation4 ,your mother would not have been convinced by this1 and would probably have had the last word1 but the matter would have ended there4 ,another friend of mine1 who is in a position very like your own1 goes a step farther1 and is determined to agree with his mother-in-law in everything4 ,he always assents to her propositions4 ,she is a ,frenchwoman1 and has been accustomed to use ,algrie and ,afrique as convertible terms4 ,somebody spoke of the ,cape of ,good ,hope as being in ,africa4 ,then it belongs to ,france1 as ,africa belongs to ,france4 ,oui1 chre mre1 he answered1 in his usual formula2 vous avez raison4 ,he alluded to this afterwards when we were alone together4 ,i was foolish enough some years since1 he said1 to argue with my belle mre and try to teach her little things from time to time1 but it kept her in a state of chronic ill-humor and led to no good2 it spoiled her temper1 and it did not improve her mind4 ,but since ,i have adopted the plan of perpetual assent we get on charmingly4 ,whatever she affirms ,i assent to at once1 and all is well4 ,my friends are in the secret1 and so no contradictory truth disturbs our amiable tranquillity4 ,a system of this kind spoils women completely1 and makes the least contradiction intolerable to them4 ,it is better that they should at least have the opportunity of hearing truth1 though no attempt need be made to force it upon them4 ,the position of ladies of the generation which preceded ours is in many respects a very trying one1 and we do not always adequately realize it4 ,a lady like your mother1 who never really went through any intellectual discipline1 who has no notion of intellectual accuracy in anything1 is compelled by the irresistible feminine instinct to engage her strongest feelings in every discussion that arises4 ,a woman can rarely detach her mind from questions of persons to apply it to questions of fact4 ,she does not think simply1 ,is that true of such a thing8 but she thinks1 ,does he love me or respect me8 ,the facts about the ,argentine ,republic and the ,american ,war were probably quite indifferent to your mother2 but your opposition to what she had asserted seemed to her a failure in affection1 and your attempt to teach her a failure in respect4 ,this feeling in women is far from being wholly egoistic4 ,they refer everything to persons1 but not necessarily to their own persons4 ,whatever you affirm as a fact1 they find means of interpreting as loyalty or disloyalty to some person whom they either venerate or love1 to the head of religion1 or of the ,state1 or of the family4 ,hence it is always dangerous to enter upon intellectual discussion of any kind with women1 for you are almost certain to offend them by setting aside the sentiments of veneration1 affection1 love1 which they have in great strength1 in order to reach accuracy in matters of fact1 which they neither have nor care for4 ,,part ,,viii4 ,,aristocracy ,,and ,,democracy4 ,,letter ,i4 ,,to ,a ,,young ,,english ,,nobleman4 ,a contrast--,a poor student--,his sad fate--,class-sentiment--,tycho ,brahe--,robert ,burns--,shelley's opinion of ,byron--,charles ,dickens--,shopkeepers in ,english literature--,pride of aristocratic ignorance--,pursuits tabooed by the spirit of caste--,affected preferences in intellectual pursuits--,studies that add to gentility--,sincerity of interest needed for genuine culture--,the exclusiveness of scholarly caste--,its bad influence on outsiders--,feeling of ,burns toward scholars--,sureness of class-instinct--,unforeseen effect of railways--,return to nomadic life and the chase--,advantages and possibilities to life in the higher classes4 ,it is one of the privileges of authorship to have correspondents in the most widely different positions1 and by means of their frank and friendly letters 7usually much more frank than any oral communication7 to gain a singularly accurate insight into the working of circumstances on the human intellect and character4 ,the same post that brought me your last letter brought news about another of my friends whose lot has been a striking contrast to your own4#h ,let me dwell upon this contrast for a few minutes4 ,all the sunshine appears to have been on your side1 and all the shadow on his4 ,born of highly cultivated parents1 in the highest rank in ,england under royalty1 you have lived from the beginning amongst the most efficient aids to culture1 and ,nature has so endowed you that1 instead of becoming indifferent to these things from familiarity1 you have learned to value them more and more in every successive year4 ,the plainest statement of your advantages would sound like an extract from one of ,disraeli's novels4 ,your father's principal castle is situated amongst the finest scenery in ,britain1 and his palace in ,london is filled with masterpieces of art4 ,wherever you have lived you have been surrounded by good literature and cultivated friends4 ,your health is steadily robust1 you can travel wherever you choose1 and all the benefits of all the capitals of ,europe belong to you as much as to their own citizens4 ,in all these gifts and opportunities there is but one evil--the bewilderment of their multiplicity4 ,my other correspondent has been less fortunately situated4 ,i began school1 he says1 when six years old1 was taken from it at eleven and sent to the mines to earn a little towards my own support4 ,i continued there till fourteen1 when through an unlucky incident ,i was made a hopeless cripple4 ,at that day ,i was earning the noble sum of eightpence per day1 quite as much as any boy of that age got in the lead mines4 ,i suffered much for two years2 after that1 became much easier1 but my legs were quite useless1 and have continued so up to the present time4 ,the right thigh-bone is decayed1 has not got worse these nine years2 therefore ,i conclude that ,i may live--say another thirty years4 ,i should like1 at all events1 for life is sweet even at this cost2 not but what ,i could die quietly enough1 ,i dare say4 ,i have not been idle these years4444 7,here permit me to introduce a parenthesis4 ,he certainly had not been idle4 ,he had educated himself up to such a point that he could really appreciate both literature and art1 and had attained some genuine skill in both4 ,his letters to me were the letters of a cultivated gentleman1 and he used invariably to insert little pen-sketches1 which were done with a light and refined hand47 ,i can do anything almost in bed--except getting up4 ,i am now twenty-two years old4 ,my father was a miner1 but is now unable to work4 ,i have only one brother working1 and we are about a dozen of us2 consequently we are not in the most flourishing circumstances1 but a friend has put it in my power to learn to etch4 ,i have got the tools and your handbook on the subject4 ,these extracts are from his first letter4 ,afterwards he wrote me others which made me feel awed and humbled by the manly cheerfulness with which he bore a lot so dreary1 and by the firmness of resolution he showed in his pursuits4 ,he could not quit his bed1 but that was not the worst2 he could not even sit up in bed1 and yet he contrived1 ,i know not how1 both to write and draw and etch on copper1 managing the plaguy chemicals1 and even printing his own proofs4 ,his bed was on wheels1 on a sort of light iron carriage1 and he saw nature out-of-doors4 ,all the gladness of physical activity was completely blotted out of his existence1 and in that respect his prospects were without hope4 ,and still he said that life was sweet4 ,o marvel of all marvels1 how could that life be sweet6 ,aided by a beautiful patience and resignation the lamp of the mind burned with a steady brightness1 fed by his daily studies4 ,in the winters1 however1 the diseased limb gave him prolonged agony1 and in the autumn of #ahgb1 to avoid the months of torture that lay before him1 he had himself put in the railway and sent off1 in his bed1 to ,edinburgh1 sleeping in a waiting-room on the way4 ,there was no one to attend him1 but he trusted1 not vainly1 to the humanity of strangers4 ,just about the same time your lordship went northwards also1 with many friends1 to enjoy the noble scenery1 and the excitement of noble sport4 ,my poor cripple got to ,edinburgh1 got a glimpse of ,scott's monument and the ,athenian pillars1 and submitted himself to the surgeons4 ,they rendered him the best of services1 for they ended his pains forever4 ,so ,i am to get no more of those wonderfully brave and cheerful letters that were written from the little bed on wheels4 ,i miss them for the lessons they quite unconsciously conveyed4 ,he fancied that he was the learner1 poor lad6 and ,i the teacher1 whereas it was altogether the other way4 ,he made me feel what a blessing it is1 even from the purely intellectual point of view1 to be able to get out of bed after the night's rest1 and go from one room to another4 ,he made me understand the value of every liberty and every power whilst at the same time he taught me to bear more patiently every limit1 and inconvenience1 and restriction4 ,in comparing his letters with yours ,i have been struck by one reflection predominantly1 which is1 the entire absence of class-sentiment in both of you4 ,nobody1 not in the secret1 could guess that one set of letters came from a palace and the other set from a poor miner's cottage2 and even to me1 who do not see the habitations except by an effort of the memory or imagination1 there is nothing to recall the immensity of the social distance that separated my two friendly and welcome correspondents4 ,it is clear1 of course1 that one of them had enjoyed greater advantages than the other1 but neither wrote from the point of view which marks his caste or class4 ,it was my habit to write to you1 and to him1 exactly in the same tone1 yet this was not felt to be unsuitable by either4 ,is it not that the love and pursuit of culture lead each of us out of his class1 and that class-views of any kind1 whether of the aristocracy1 or of the middle class1 or of the people1 inevitably narrow the mind and hinder it from receiving pure truth8 ,have you ever known any person who lived habitually in the notions of a caste1 high or low1 without incapacitating himself in a greater or less degree for breadth and delicacy of perception8 ,it seems to me that the largest and best minds1 although they have been born and nurtured in this caste or that1 and may continue to conform externally to its customs1 always emancipate themselves from it intellectually1 and arrive at a sort of neutral region1 where the light is colorless1 and clear1 and equal1 like plain daylight out of doors4 ,so soon as we attain the forgetfulness of self1 and become absorbed in our pursuits for their own sakes1 the feeling of caste drops off from us4 ,it was not a mark of culture in ,tycho ,brahe1 but rather of the imperfections of his culture1 that he felt so strongly the difficulty of conciliating scientific pursuits with the obligations of noble birth1 and began his public discourses on astronomy by telling his audience that the work was ill-suited to his social position--hesitating1 too1 even about authorship from a dread of social degradation4 ,and to take an instance from the opposite extreme of human society1 ,robert ,burns betrayed the same imperfection of culture in his dedication to the members of the ,caledonian ,hunt1 when he spoke of his honest rusticity1 and told the gentlefolks that he was bred to the plough1 and independent4 ,both of these men had been unfavorably situated for the highest culture1 the one by the ignorance of his epoch the other by the ignorance of his class2 hence this uneasiness about themselves and their social position4 ,shelley said of ,byron1 ,the canker of aristocracy wants to be cut out2 and he did not say this from the point of view of a democrat1 for ,shelley was not precisely a democrat1 but from1 the broadly human point of view1 on which the finest intellects like to take their stand4 ,shelley perceived that ,byron's aristocracy narrowed him1 and made his sympathies less catholic than they might have been1 nor can there be any doubt of the accuracy of this estimate of ,shelley's2 if a doubt existed it would be removed by ,byron's alternative for a poet1 solitude1 or high life4 ,another man of genius1 whose loss we have recently deplored1 was narrowed by his antipathy to the aristocratic spirit1 though it is necessary to add1 in justice1 that it did not prevent him from valuing the friendship of noblemen whom he esteemed4 ,the works of ,charles ,dickens would have been more accurate as pictures of ,english life1 certainly more comprehensively accurate1 if he could have felt for the aristocracy that hearty and loving sympathy which he felt for the middle classes and the people4 ,but the narrowness of ,dickens is more excusable than that of ,byron1 because a kindly heart more easily enters into the feelings of those whom it can often pity than of those who appear to be lifted above pity 7though this is nothing but an appearance7 and also because it is the habit of aristocracies to repel such sympathy by their manners1 which the poor do not4 ,i have often thought that a sign of aristocratic narrowness in many ,english authors1 including some of the most popular authors of the day1 is the way they speak of shopkeepers4 ,this may be due to simple ignorance2 but if so1 it is ignorance that might be easily avoided4 ,happily for our convenience there are a great many shopkeepers in ,england1 so that there is no lack of the materials for study2 but our novelists appear to consider this important class of ,englishmen as unworthy of any patient and serious portraiture4 ,you may remember ,mr4 ,anthony ,trollope's ,struggles of ,brown1 ,jones1 and ,robinson1 which appeared in the ,cornhill ,magazine1 under ,thackeray's editorship4 ,that was an extreme instance of the way the class is treated in our literature2 and then in poetry we have some disdainful verses of ,mr4 ,tennyson's4 ,it may be presumed that there is material for grave and respectful treatment of this extensive class1 but our poets and novelists do not seem to have discovered1 or sought to discover1 the secret of that treatment4 ,the intensity of the prejudices of caste prevents them from seeing any possibility of true gentlemanhood in a draper or a grocer1 and blinds them to the sthetic beauty or grandeur which may be as perfectly compatible with what is disdainfully called counter-jumping as it is admitted to be with the jumping of five-barred gates4 ,the same caste prejudices have often kept the mass of the upper classes in ignorance of most valuable and important branches of knowledge4 ,the poor have been ignorant1 yet never proud of their ignorance2 the ignorance that men are proud of belongs to caste always1 not always to what we should call an aristocratic caste1 but to the caste-feeling in one class or another4 ,the pride of the feudal baron in being totally illiterate amounted to self-exclusion from all intellectual culture1 and we may still find living instances of partial self-exclusion from culture1 of which pride is the only motive4 ,there are people who pass their time in what are considered amusements 7that do not amuse71 because it seems to them a more gentlemanly sort of life than the devotion to some great and worthy pursuit which would have given the keenest zest and relish to their whole existence 7besides making them useful members of society1 which they are not71 but which happens to be tabooed for them by the prejudices of their caste4 ,there are many studies1 in themselves noble and useful1 that a man of good family cannot follow with the earnestness and the sacrifice of time necessary to success in them1 without incurring the disapprobation of his friends4 ,if this disapprobation were visited on the breaker of caste-regulations because he neglected some other culture1 there would still be something reasonable in it2 but this is not the case4 ,the caste-regulation forbids the most honorable and instructive labor when it does not forbid the most unprofitable idleness1 the most utter throwing away of valuable time and faculty4 ,tycho ,brahe feared to lose caste in becoming the most illustrious astronomer of his time2 but he would have had no such apprehension1 nor any ground for such apprehension1 if instead of being impelled to noble work by a high intellectual instinct1 he had been impelled by meaner passions to unlimited self-indulgence4 ,even1 in our own day these prejudices are still strong enough1 or have been until very lately1 to keep our upper classes in great darkness about natural knowledge of all kinds1 and about its application to the arts of life4 ,how few gentlemen have been taught to draw accurately1 and how few are accurately acquainted with the great practical inventions of the age6 ,the caste-sentiment does not1 in these days1 keep them ignorant of literature1 but it keeps them ignorant of things4 ,a friend who had a strong constructive and experimental turn1 told me that1 as a rule1 he found gentlemen less capable of entering into his ideas than common joiners and blacksmiths1 because these humble workmen1 from their habit of dealing with matter1 had acquired some experience of its nature4 ,for my own part1 ,i have often been amazed by the difficulty of making something clear to a classically educated gentleman which any intelligent mechanic would have seen to the bottom1 and all round1 after five or six minutes of explanation4 ,there is a certain ,french nobleman whose ignorance ,i have frequent opportunities of fathoming1 always with fresh astonishment at the depths of it1 and ,i declare that he knows no more about the properties of stone1 and timber1 and metal1 than if he were a cherub in the clouds of heaven6 ,but there is something in caste-sentiment even more prejudicial to culture than ignorance itself1 and that is the affectation of strong preferences for certain branches of knowledge in which people are not seriously interested4 ,there is nothing which people will not pretend to like1 if a liking for it is supposed to be one of the marks and indications of gentility4 ,there has been an immense amount of this kind of affectation in regard to classical scholarship1 and we know for a certainty that it is affectation whenever people are loud in their praise of classical authors whom they never take the trouble to read4 ,it may have happened to you1 as it has happened to me from time to time1 to hear men affirm the absolute necessity of classical reading to distinction of thought and manner1 and yet to be aware at the same time1 from close observation of their habits1 that those very men entirely neglected the sources of that culture in which they professed such earnest faith4 ,the explanation is1 that as classical accomplishments are considered to be one of the evidences of gentility1 whoever speaks loudly in their favor affirms that he has the tastes and preferences of a gentleman4 ,it is like professing the fashionable religion1 or belonging to an aristocratic shade of opinion in politics4 ,i have not a doubt that all affectations of this kind are injurious to genuine culture1 for genuine culture requires sincerity of interest before everything1 and the fashionable affectations1 so far from attracting sincere men to the departments of learning which happen to be la mode1 positively drive them away1 just as many have become ,nonconformists because the established religion was considered necessary to gentility1 who might have remained contented with its ordinances as a simple discipline for their souls4 ,i dislike the interference of genteel notions in our studies for another reason4 ,they deprive such culture as we may get from them1 of one of the most precious results of culture1 the enlargement of our sympathy for others4 ,if we encourage ourselves in the pride of scholarly caste1 so far as to imagine that we who have made ,latin verses are above comparison with all who have never exercised their ingenuity in that particular way1 we are not likely to give due and serious attention to the ideas of people whom we are pleased to consider uneducated2 and yet it may happen that these people are sometimes our intellectual superiors1 and that their ideas concern us very closely4 ,but this is only half the evil4 ,the consciousness of our contempt embitters the feelings of men in other castes1 and prevents them from accepting our guidance when it might be of the greatest practical utility to them4 ,i may mention ,robert ,burns as an instance of a man of genius who would have been happier and more fortunate if he had felt no barrier of separation between himself and the culture of his time4 ,his poetry is as good rustic poetry as the best that has come down to us from antiquity1 and instead of feeling towards the poets of times past the kind of soreness which a parvenu feels towards families of ancient descent1 he ought rather to have rejoiced in the consciousness that he was their true and legitimate successor1 as the clergy of an authentic ,church feel themselves to be successors and representatives of saints and apostles who are gathered to their everlasting rest4 ,but poor ,burns knew that in an age when what is called scholarship gave all who had acquired it a right to look down upon poets who had only genius as the illegitimate offspring of nature1 his position had not that solidity which belonged to the scholarly caste1 and the result was a perpetual uneasiness which broke out in frequent defiance4 ,there's ither poets1 much your betters1 ,far seen in ,greek1 deep men o' letters1 ,hae thought they had ensur'd their debtors ,a' future ages2 ,now moths deform in shapeless tatters1 ,their unknown pages4 ,and again1 in another poem-- ,a set o' dull1 conceited hashes ,confuse their brains in college classes6 ,they gang in stirks1 and come out asses1 ,plain truth to speak2 ,an' syne they think to climb ,parnassus ,by dint o' ,greek6 ,it was the influence of caste that made ,burns write in this way1 and how unjust it was every modern reader knows4 ,the great majority of poets have been well-educated men1 and instead of ganging into college like stirks and coming out like asses1 they have1 as a rule1 improved their poetic faculty by an acquaintance with the masterpieces of their art4 ,yet ,burns is not to be blamed for this injustice2 he sneered at ,greek because ,greek was the mark of a disdainful and exclusive caste1 but he never sneered at ,french or ,italian4 ,he had no soreness against culture for its own sake2 it was the pride of caste that galled him4 ,how surely the wonderful class-instinct guided the aristocracy to the kind of learning likely to be the most effectual barrier against fellowship with the mercantile classes and the people6 ,the uselessness of ,greek in industry and commerce was a guarantee that those who had to earn their bread would never find time to master it1 and even the strange difficult look of the alphabet 7though in reality the alphabet was a gate of gossamer71 ensured a degree of awful veneration for those initiated into its mysteries4 ,then the habit our forefathers had of quoting ,latin and ,greek to keep the ignorant in their places1 was a strong defensive weapon of their caste1 and they used it without scruple4 ,every year removes this passion for exclusiveness farther and farther into the past2 every year makes learning of every kind less available as the armor of a class1 and less to be relied upon as a means of social advancement and consideration4 ,indeed1 we have already reached a condition which is drawing back many members of the aristocracy to a state of feeling about intellectual culture resembling that of their forefathers in the middle ages4 ,the old barbarian feeling has revived of late1 a feeling which 7if it were self-conscious enough7 might find expression in some such words as these3-- ,it is not by learning and genius that we can hold the highest place1 but by the dazzling exhibition of external splendor in those costly pleasures which are the plainest evidence of our power4 ,let us have beautiful equipages on the land1 beautiful yachts upon the sea2 let our recreations be public and expensive1 that the people may not easily lose sight of us1 and may know that there is a gulf of difference between our life and theirs4 ,why should we toil at books that the poorest students read1 we who have lordly pastimes for every month in the year8 ,to be able to revel immensely in pleasures which those below us taste rarely or not at all1 this is the best evidence of our superiority4 ,so let us take them magnificently1 like ,english princes and lords4 ,even the invention of railways has produced the unforeseen result of a return in the direction of barbarism4 ,if there is one thing which distinguishes civilization it is fixity of residence2 and it is essential to the tranquil following of serious intellectual purposes that the student should remain for many months of the year in his own library or laboratory1 surrounded by all his implements of culture4 ,but there are people of the highest rank in the ,england of to-day whose existence is as much nomadic as that of ,red ,indians in the reserved territories of ,north ,america4 ,you cannot ascertain their whereabouts without consulting the most recent newspaper4 ,their life may be quite accurately described as a return1 on a scale of unprecedented splendor and comfort1 to the life of tribes in that stage of human development which is known as the period of the chase4 ,they migrate from one hunting-ground to another as the diminution of the game impels them4 ,their residences1 vast and substantial as they are1 serve only as tents and wigwams4 ,the existence of a monk in the cloister1 of a prisoner in a fortress1 is more favorable to the intellect than theirs4 ,and yet notwithstanding these re-appearances of the savage nature at the very summit of modern civilization1 the life of a great ,english nobleman of to-day commands so much of what the intellectual know to be truly desirable1 that it seems as if only a little firmness of resolution were needed to make all advantages his own4 ,surrounded by every aid1 and having all gates open1 he sees the paths of knowledge converging towards him like railways to some rich central city4 ,he has but to choose his route1 and travel along it with the least possible hindrance from every kind of friction1 in the society of the best companions1 and served by the most perfectly trained attendants4 ,might not our lords be like those brilliant peers who shone like intellectual stars around the throne of ,elizabeth1 and our ladies like that great lady of whom said a learned ,italian1 che non vi aveva altra dama al mondo che la pareggiasse nella cognizione delle arti e nella notizia delle scienze e delle lingue1 wherefore he called her boldly1 in the enthusiasm of his admiration1 grande anfitrite1 ,diana nume della terra6 ,,letter ,,ii4 ,,to ,,an ,,english ,,democrat4 ,the liberal and illiberal spirit of aristocracy--,the desire to draw a line--,substitution of external limitations for realities--,the high life of nature--,value of gentlemen in a ,state--,odiousness of the narrow class-spirit--,julian ,fane--,perfect knighthood--,democracies intolerant of dignity--,tendency of democracies to fix one uniform type of manners--,that type not a high one--,a descriptive anecdote--,knowledge and taste reveal themselves in manners--,dr4 ,arnold on the absence of gentlemen in ,france and ,italy--,absence of a class with traditional good manners--,language defiled by the vulgarity of popular taste--,influence of aristocratic opinion limited1 that of democratic opinion universal--,want of elevation in the ,french bourgeoisie--,spirit of the provincial democracy--,spirit of the ,parisian democracy--,sentiments and acts of the ,communards--,romantic feeling towards the past--,hopes for liberal culture in the democratic idea--,aristocracies think too much of persons and positions--,that we ought to forget persons and apply our minds to things1 and phenomena1 and ideas4 ,all you say against the narrowness of the aristocratic spirit is true and to the point2 but ,i think that you and your party are apt to confound together two states of feeling which are essentially distinct from each other4 ,there is an illiberal spirit of aristocracy1 and there is also a liberal one4 ,the illiberal spirit does not desire to improve itself1 having a full and firm belief in its own absolute perfection2 its sole anxiety is to exclude others1 to draw a circular line1 the smaller the better1 provided always that it gets inside and can keep the millions out4 ,we see this spirit1 not only in reference to birth1 but in even fuller activity with regard to education and employment--in the preference for certain schools and colleges1 for class reasons1 without regard to the quality of the teaching--in the contempt for all professions but two or three1 without regard to the inherent baseness or nobility of the work that has to be done in them3 so that the question asked by persons of this temper is not whether a man has been well trained in his youth1 but if he has been to ,eton and ,oxford2 not whether he is honorably laborious in his manhood1 but whether he belongs to the ,bar1 or the ,army1 or the ,church4 ,this spirit is evil in its influence1 because it substitutes external limitations for the realities of the intellect and the soul1 and makes those realities themselves of no account wherever its traditions prevail4 ,this spirit cares nothing for culture1 nothing for excellence1 nothing for the superiorities that make men truly great2 all it cares for is to have reserved seats in the great assemblage of the world4 ,whatever you do1 in fairness and honesty1 against this evil and inhuman spirit of aristocracy1 the best minds of this age approve2 but there is another spirit of aristocracy which does not always receive the fairest treatment at your hands1 and which ought to be resolutely defended against you4 ,there is really1 in nature1 such a thing as high life4 ,there is really1 in nature1 a difference between the life of a gentleman who has culture1 and fine bodily health1 and independence1 and the life of a ,sheffield dry-grinder who cannot have any one of these three things4 ,it is a good and not a bad sign of the state of popular intelligence when the people does not wilfully shut its eyes to the differences of condition amongst men1 and when those who have the opportunity of leading what is truly the high life accept its discipline joyfully and have a just pride in keeping themselves up to their ideal4 ,a life of health1 of sound morality1 of disinterested intellectual activity1 of freedom from petty cares1 is higher than a life of disease1 and vice1 and stupidity1 and sordid anxiety4 ,i maintain that it is right and wise in a nation to set before itself the highest attainable ideal of human life as the existence of the complete gentleman1 and that an envious democracy1 instead of rendering a service to itself1 does exactly the contrary when it cannot endure and will not tolerate the presence of high-spirited gentlemen in the ,state4 ,there are things in this world that it is right to hate1 that we are the better for hating with all our hearts2 and one of the things that ,i hate most1 and with most reason1 is the narrow class-spirit when it sets itself against the great interests of mankind4 ,it is odious in the narrow-minded1 pompous1 selfish1 pitiless aristocrat who thinks that the sons of the people were made by ,almighty ,god to be his lackeys and their daughters to be his mistresses2 it is odious also1 to the full as odious1 in the narrow-minded1 envious democrat who cannot bear to see any elegance of living1 or grace of manner1 or culture of mind above the range of his own capacity or his own purse4 ,let me recommend to your consideration the following words1 written by one young nobleman about another young nobleman1 and reminding us1 as we much need to be reminded1 that life may be not only honest and vigorous1 but also noble and beautiful4 ,robert ,lytton says of ,julian ,fane-- ,he was1 ,i think1 the most graceful and accomplished gentleman of the generation he adorned1 and by this generation1 at least1 appropriate place should be reserved for the memory of a man in whose character the most universal sympathy with all the intellectual culture of his age was united to a refinement of social form1 and a perfection of personal grace1 which1 in spite of all its intellectual culture1 the age is sadly in want of4 ,there is an artistry of life as well as of literature1 and the perfect knighthood of ,sidney is no less precious to the world than the genius of ,spenser4 ,it is just this perfect knighthood that an envious democracy sneers at and puts down4 ,i do not say that all democracies are necessarily envious1 but they often are so1 especially when they first assert themselves1 and whilst in that temper they are very willing to ostracize gentlemen1 or compel them to adopt bad manners4 ,i have some hopes that the democracies of the future may be taught by authors and artists to appreciate natural gentlemanhood2 but so far as we know them hitherto they seem intolerant of dignity1 and disposed to attribute it 7very unjustly7 to individual self-conceit4 ,the personages most popular in democratic countries are often remarkably deficient in dignity1 and liked the better for the want of it1 whilst if on the positive side they can display occasional coarseness they become more popular still4 ,then ,i should say1 that although democratic feeling raises the lower classes and increases their self-respect1 which is indeed one of the greatest imaginable benefits to a nation1 it has a tendency to fix one uniform type of behavior and of thought as the sole type in conformity with what is accepted for common sense1 and that type can scarcely1 in the nature of things1 be a very elevated one4 ,i have been much struck1 in ,france1 by the prevalence of what may be not inaccurately defined as the commercial traveller type1 even in classes where you would scarcely expect to meet with it4 ,one little descriptive anecdote will illustrate what ,i mean4 ,having been invited to a stag-hunt in the ,cte d',or1 ,i sat down to djeuner with the sportsmen in a good country-house or chteau 7it was an old place with four towers71 and in the midst of the meal in came a man smoking a cigar4 ,after a bow to the ladies he declined to eat anything1 and took a chair a little apart1 but just opposite me4 ,he resumed his hat and went on smoking with a sans-gne that rather surprised me under the circumstances4 ,he put one arm on the side-board3 the hand hung down1 and ,i perceived that it was dirty 7so was the shirt71 and that the nails had edges of ebony4 ,on his chin there was a black stubble of two days' growth4 ,he talked very loudly1 and his dress and manners were exactly those of a bagman just arrived at his inn4 ,who and what could the man be8 ,i learned afterwards that he had begun life as a distinguished pupil of the ,ecole ,polytechnique1 that since then he had distinguished himself as an officer of artillery and had won the ,legion of ,honor on the field of battle1 that he belonged to one of the principal families in the neighborhood1 and had nearly #bjjjl4 a year from landed property4 ,now1 it may be a good thing for the roughs at the bottom of the social scale to level up to the bagman-ideal1 but it does seem rather a pity 7does it not87 that a born gentleman of more than common bravery and ability should level down to it4 ,and it is here that lies the principle objection to democracy from the point of view of culture1 that its notion of life and manners is a uniform notion1 not admitting much variety of classes1 and not allowing the high development of graceful and accomplished humanity in any class which an aristocracy does at least encourage in one class1 though it may be numerically a small class4 ,i have not forgotten what ,saint-,simon and ,la ,bruyre have testified about the ignorance of the old noblesse4 ,saint-,simon said that they were fit for nothing but fighting1 and only qualified for promotion even in the army by seniority2 that the rest of their time was passed in the most deadly uselessness1 the consequence of their indolence and distaste for all instruction4 ,i am sure that my modern artillery captain1 notwithstanding his bad manners1 knew more than any of his forefathers2 but where was his perfect knighthood8 ,and we easily forget how much talent runs into manners1 as ,emerson says4 ,from the artistic and poetical point of view1 behavior is an expression of knowledge and taste and feeling in combination1 as clear and legible as literature or painting1 so that when the behavior is coarse and unbecoming we know that the perceptions cannot be delicate1 whatever may have been learned at school4 ,when ,dr4 ,arnold travelled on the ,continent1 nothing struck him more than the absence of gentlemen4 ,we see no gentlemen anywhere1 he writes from ,italy4 ,from ,france he writes3 ,again ,i have been struck with the total absence of all gentlemen1 and of all persons of the education and feelings of gentlemen4 ,now1 although ,dr4 ,arnold spoke merely from the experience of a tourist1 and was perhaps not quite competent to judge of ,frenchmen and ,italians otherwise than from externals1 still there was much truth in his observation4 ,it was not quite absolutely true4 ,i have known two or three ,italian officers1 and one ,savoyard nobleman1 and a ,frenchman here and there1 who were as perfect gentlemen as any to be found in ,england1 but they were isolated like poets1 and were in fact poets in behavior and self discipline4 ,the plain truth is1 that there is no distinct class in ,france maintaining good manners as a tradition common to all its members2 and this seems to be the inevitable defect of a democracy4 ,it may be observed1 further1 that language itself is defiled by the vulgarity of the popular taste2 that expressions are used continually1 even by the upper middle class1 which it is impossible to print1 and which are too grossly indecent to find a place even in the dictionaries2 that respectable men1 having become insensible to the meaning of these expressions from hearing them used without intention1 employ them constantly from habit1 as they decorate their speech with oaths1 whilst only purists refrain from them altogether4 ,an aristocracy may be very narrow and intolerant1 but it can only exclude from its own pale1 whereas when a democracy is intolerant it excludes from all human intercourse4 ,our own aristocracy1 as a class1 rejects ,dissenters1 and artists1 and men of science1 but they flourish quite happily outside of it4 ,now try to picture to yourself a great democracy having the same prejudices1 who could get out of the democracy8 ,all aristocracies are intolerant with reference1 ,i will not say to religion1 but1 more accurately1 with reference to the outward forms of religion1 and yet this aristocratic intolerance has not prevented the development of religious liberty1 because the lower classes were not strictly bound by the customs of the nobility and gentry4 ,the unwritten law appears to be that members of an aristocracy shall conform either to what is actually the ,state ,church or to what has been the ,state ,church at some former period of the national history4 ,although ,england is a ,protestant country1 an ,english gentleman does not lose caste when he joins the ,roman ,catholic communion2 but he loses caste when he becomes a ,dissenter4 ,the influence of this caste-law in keeping the upper classes within the ,churches of ,england and of ,rome has no doubt been very considerable1 but its influence on the nation generally has been incomparably less considerable than that of some equally decided social rule in the entire mind of a democracy4 ,had this rule of conformity to the religion of the ,state been that of the ,english democracy1 religious liberty would have been extinguished throughout the length and breadth of ,england4 ,i say that the customs and convictions of a democracy are more dangerous to intellectual liberty than those of an aristocracy1 because1 in matters of custom1 the gentry rule only within their own park-palings1 whereas the people1 when power resides with them1 rule wherever the breezes blow4 ,a democracy that dislikes refinement and good manners can drive men of culture into solitude1 and make morbid hermits of the very persons who ought to be the lights and leaders of humanity4 ,it can cut short the traditions of good-breeding1 the traditions of polite learning1 the traditions of thoughtful leisure1 and reduce the various national types of character to one type1 that of the commis-voyageur4 ,all men of refined sentiment in modern ,france lament the want of elevation in the bourgeoisie4 ,they read nothing1 they learn nothing1 they think of nothing but money and the satisfaction of their appetites4 ,there are exceptions1 of course1 but the tone of the class is mean and low1 and devoid of natural dignity or noble aspiration4 ,their ignorance passes belief1 and is accompanied by an absolute self-satisfaction4 ,la fin de la bourgeoisie1 says an eminent ,french author1 commence parcequ'elle a les sentiments de la populace4 ,je ne vois pas qu'elle lise d'autres journaux1 qu'elle se rgale d'une musique diffrente1 qu'elle ait des plaisirs plus levs4 ,chez l'une comme chez l'autre1 c'est le mme amour de l'argent1 le mme respect du fait accompli1 le mme besoin d'idoles pour les dtruire1 la mme haine de toute supriorit1 le mme esprit de dnigrement1 la mme crasse ignorance6 ,m4 ,renan also complains that during the ,second ,empire the country sank deeper and deeper into vulgarity1 forgetting its past history and its noble enthusiasms4 ,talk to the peasant1 to the socialist of the ,international1 of ,france1 of her past history1 of her genius1 he will not understand you4 ,military honor seems madness to him2 the taste for great things1 the glory of the mind1 are vain dreams2 money spent for art and science is money thrown away foolishly4 ,such is the provincial spirit4 ,and if this is the provincial spirit1 what is the spirit of the metropolitan democracy8 ,is it not clearly known to us by its acts8 ,it had the opportunity1 under the ,commune1 of showing the world how tenderly it cared for the monuments of national history1 how anxious it was for the preservation of noble architecture1 of great libraries1 of pictures that can never be replaced4 ,whatever may have been our illusions about the character of the ,parisian democracy1 we know it very accurately now4 ,to say that it is brutal would be an inadequate use of language1 for the brutes are only indifferent to history and civilization1 not hostile to them4 ,so far as it is possible for us to understand the temper of that democracy1 it appears to cherish an active and intense hatred for every conceivable kind of superiority1 and an instinctive eagerness to abolish the past2 or1 as that is not possible1 since the past will always have been in spite of it1 then at least to efface all visible memorials and destroy the bequests of all preceding generations4 ,if any one had affirmed1 before the fall of ,louis ,napoleon1 that the democratic spirit was capable of setting fire to the ,louvre and the national archives and libraries1 of deliberately planning the destruction of all those magnificent edifices1 ecclesiastical and civil1 which were the glory of ,france and the delight of ,europe1 we should have attributed such an assertion to the exaggerations of reactionary fears4 ,but since the year #ahgj we do not speculate about the democratic temper in its intensest expression2 we have seen it at work1 and we know it4 ,we know that every beautiful building1 every precious manuscript and picture1 has to be protected against the noxious swarm of ,communards as a sea-jetty against the ,pholas and the ,teredo4 ,compare this temper with that of a ,marquis of ,hertford1 a ,duke of ,devonshire1 a ,duc de ,luynes6 ,true guardians of the means of culture1 these men have given splendid hospitality to the great authors and artists of past times1 by keeping their works for the future with tender and reverent care4 ,nor has this function of high stewardship ever been more nobly exercised than it is to-day by that true knight and gentleman1 ,sir ,richard ,wallace4 ,think of the difference between this great-hearted guardian of priceless treasures1 keeping them for the people1 for civilization1 and a base-spirited ,communard setting fire to the library of the ,louvre4 ,the ultra-democratic spirit is hostile to culture1 from its hatred of all delicate and romantic sentiment1 from its scorn of the tenderer and finer feelings of our nature1 and especially from its brutish incapacity to comprehend the needs of the higher life4 ,if it had its way we should be compelled by public opinion to cast all the records of our ancestors1 and the shields they wore in battle1 into the foul waters of an eternal ,lethe4 ,the intolerance of the sentiment of birth1 that noble sentiment which has animated so many hearts with heroism1 and urged them to deeds of honor1 associated as it is with a cynical disbelief in the existence of female virtue1#i is one of the commonest signs of this evil spirit of detraction4 ,it is closely connected with an ungrateful indifference towards all that our forefathers have done to make civilization possible for us4 ,now1 although the intellectual spirit studies the past critically1 and does not accept history as a legend is accepted by the credulous1 still the intellectual spirit has a deep respect for all that is noble in the past1 and would preserve the record of it forever4 ,can you not imagine1 have you not actually seen1 the heir of some ancient house who shares to the full the culture and aspirations of the age in which we live1 and who nevertheless preserves1 with pious reverence1 the towers his forefathers built on the ancestral earth1 and the oaks they planted1 and the shields that were carved on the tombs where the knights and their ladies rest8 ,be sure that a right understanding of the present is compatible with a right and reverent understanding of the past1 and that1 although we may closely question history and tradition1 no longer with childlike faith1 still the spirit of true culture would never efface their vestiges4 ,it was not ,michelet1 not ,renan1 not ,hugo1 who set fire to the ,palace of ,justice and imperilled the ,sainte-,chapelle4 ,and yet1 notwithstanding all these vices and excesses of the democratic spirit1 notwithstanding the meanness of the middle classes and the violence of the mob1 there is one all-powerful reason why our best hopes for the liberal culture of the intellect are centred in the democratic idea4 ,the reason is1 that aristocracies think too much of persons and positions to weigh facts and opinions justly4 ,in an aristocratic society it is thought unbecoming to state your views in their full force in the presence of any social superior4 ,if you state them at all you must soften them to suit the occasion1 or you will be a sinner against good-breeding4 ,observe how timid and acquiescent the ordinary ,englishman becomes in the presence of a lord4 ,no right-minded person likes to be thought impudent1 and where the tone of society refers everything to position1 you are considered impudent when you forget your station4 ,but what has my station to do with the truths the intellect perceives1 that lie entirely outside of me8 ,from the intellectual point of view1 it is a necessary virtue to forget your station1 to forget yourself entirely1 and to think of the subject only1 in a manner perfectly disinterested4 ,anonymous journalism was a device to escape from that continual reference to the rank and fortune of the speaker which is an inveterate habit in all aristocratic communities4 ,a young man without title or estate knows that he would not be listened to in the presence of his social superiors1 so he holds his tongue in society and relieves himself by an article in the ,times4 ,the anonymous newspapers and reviews are a necessity in an aristocratic community1 for they are the only means of attracting attention to facts and opinions without attracting it to yourself1 the only way of escaping the personal question1 ,who and what are you1 that you venture to speak so plainly1 and where is your stake in the country8 ,the democratic idea1 by its theoretic equality amongst men1 affords an almost complete relief from this impediment to intellectual conversation4 ,the theory of equality is good1 because it negatives the interference of rank and wealth in matters that appertain to the intellect or to the moral sense4 ,it may even go one step farther with advantage1 and ignore intellectual authority also4 ,the perfection of the intellectual spirit is the entire forgetfulness of persons1 in the application of the whole power of the mind to things1 and phenomena1 and ideas4 ,not to mind whether the speaker is of noble or humble birth1 rich or poor2 this indeed is much1 but we ought to attain a like indifference to the authority of the most splendid reputation4 ,every great advance in natural knowledge1 says ,professor ,huxley1 has involved the absolute rejection of authority1 the cherishing of the keenest scepticism1 the annihilation of the spirit of blind faith2 and the most ardent votary of science holds his firmest convictions1 not because the men he most venerates hold them1 not because their verity is testified by portents and wonders1 but because his experience teaches him that whenever he chooses to bring these convictions into contact with their primary source1 ,nature--whenever he thinks fit to test them by appealing to experiment and to observation--,nature will confirm them4 ,,footnotes3 #h ,i think it right to inform the reader that there is no fiction in this letter4 #i ,the association between the two is this4 ,if you believe that you are descended from a distinguished ancestor1 you are simple enough to believe in his wife's fidelity4 ,,part ,,ix4 ,,society ,,and ,,solitude4 ,,letter ,i4 ,,to ,a ,,lady ,,who ,,doubted ,,the ,,reality ,,of ,,intellectual ,,friendships4 ,that intellectual friendships are in their nature temporary1 when there is no basis of feeling to support them--,their freshness soon disappears--,danger of satiety--,temporary acquaintances--,succession in friendships--,free communication of intellectual results--,friendships between ripe and immature men--,rembrandt and ,hoogstraten--,tradition transmitted through these friendships4 ,i heartily agree with you so far as this1 that intellectual relations will not sustain friendship for very long1 unless there is also some basis of feeling to sustain it4 ,and still there is a certain reality in the friendships of the intellect whilst they last1 and they are remembered gratefully for their profit when in the course of nature they have ceased4 ,we may wisely contract them1 and blamelessly dissolve them when the occasion that created them has gone by4 ,they are like business partnerships1 contracted from motives of interest1 and requiring integrity above all things1 with mutual respect and consideration1 yet not necessarily either affection or the semblance of it4 ,since the motive of the intellectual existence is the desire to ascertain and communicate truth1 a sort of positive and negative electricity immediately establishes itself between those who want to know and those who desire to communicate their knowledge2 and the connection is mutually agreeable until these two desires are satisfied4 ,when this happens1 the connection naturally ceases2 but the memory of it usually leaves a permanent feeling of good-will1 and a permanent disposition to render services of the same order4 ,this1 in brief1 is the whole philosophy of the subject2 but it may be observed farther1 that the purely intellectual intercourse which often goes by the name of friendship affords excellent opportunities for the formation of real friendship1 since it cannot be long continued without revealing much of the whole nature of the associates4 ,we do not easily exhaust the mind of another1 but we easily exhaust what is accessible to us in his mind2 and when we have done this1 the first benefit of intercourse is at an end4 ,then comes a feeling of dulness and disappointment1 which is full of the bitterest discouragement to the inexperienced4 ,in maturer life we are so well prepared for this that it discourages us no longer4 ,we know beforehand that the freshness of the mind that was new to us will rapidly wear away1 that we shall soon assimilate the fragment of it which is all that ever can be made our own1 so we enjoy the freshness whilst it lasts1 and are even careful of it as a fruiterer is of the bloom upon his grapes and plums4 ,it may seem a hard and worldly thing to say1 but it appears to me that a wise man might limit his intercourse with others before there was any danger of satiety1 as it is wisdom in eating to rise from table with an appetite4 ,certainly1 if the friends of our intellect live near enough for us to anticipate no permanent separation by mere distance1 if we may expect to meet them frequently1 to have many opportunities for a more thorough and searching exploration of their minds1 it is a wise policy not to exhaust them all at once4 ,with the chance acquaintances we make in travelling1 the case is altogether different2 and this is1 no doubt1 the reason why men are so astonishingly communicative when they never expect to see each other any more4 ,you feel an intense curiosity about some temporary companion2 you make many guesses about him2 and to induce him to tell you as much as possible in the short time you are likely to be together1 you win his confidence by a frankness that would perhaps considerably surprise your nearest neighbors and relations4 ,this is due to the shortness of the opportunity2 but with people who live in the same place1 you will proceed much more deliberately4 ,whoever would remain regularly provided with intellectual friends1 ought to arrange a succession of friendships1 as gardeners do with peas and strawberries1 so that1 whilst some are fully ripe1 others should be ripening to replace them4 ,this doctrine sounds like blasphemy against friendship2 but it is not intended to apply to the sacred friendship of the heart1 which ought to be permanent like marriage1 only to the friendship of the head1 which is of the utmost utility to culture1 yet in its nature temporary4 ,i know a distinguished ,englishman who is quite remarkable for the talent with which he arranges his intellectual friendships1 so as never to be dependent on any one1 but always sure of the intercourse he needs1 both now and in the future4 ,he will never be isolated1 never without some fresh and living interest in humanity4 ,it may seem to you that there is a lamentable want of faith in this2 and ,i grant at once that a system of this kind does presuppose the extinction of the boyish belief in the permanence of human relations2 still1 it indicates a large-minded confidence in the value of human intercourse1 an enjoyment of the present1 a hope for the future1 and a right appreciation of the past4 ,nothing is more beautiful in the intellectual life than the willingness of all cultivated people--unless they happen to be accidentally soured by circumstances that have made them wretched--to communicate to others the results of all their toil4 ,it is true that they apparently lose nothing by the process1 and that a rich man who gives some portion of his material wealth exercises a greater self-denial2 still1 when you consider that men of culture1 in teaching others1 abandon something of their relative superiority1 and often voluntarily incur the sacrifice of what is most precious to them1 namely1 their time1 ,i think you will admit that their readiness in this kind of generosity is one of the finest characteristics of highly-developed humanity4 ,of all intellectual friendships1 none are so beautiful as those which subsist between old and ripe men and their younger brethren in science1 or literature1 or art4 ,it is by these private friendships1 even more than by public performance1 that the tradition of sound thinking and great doing is perpetuated from age to age4 ,hoogstraten1 who was a pupil of ,rembrandt1 asked him many questions1 which the great master answered thus3--,try to put well in practice what you already know2 in so doing you will1 in good time1 discover the hidden things which you now inquire about4 ,that answer of ,rembrandt's is typical of the maturest teaching4 ,how truly friendly it is2 how full of encouragement2 how kind in its admission that the younger artist did already know something worth putting into practice2 and yet1 at the same time1 how judicious in its reserve6 ,few of us have been so exceptionally unfortunate as not to find1 in our own age1 some experienced friend who has helped us by precious counsel1 never to be forgotten4 ,we cannot render it in kind2 but perhaps in the fulness of time it may become our noblest duty to aid another as we have ourselves been aided1 and to transmit to him an invaluable treasure1 the tradition of the intellectual life4 ,,letter ,,ii4 ,,to ,a ,,young ,,gentleman ,,who ,,lived ,,much ,,in ,,fashionable ,,society4 ,certain dangers to the intellectual life--,difficult to resist the influences of society--,gilding--,fashionable education--,affectations of knowledge--,not easy to ascertain what people really know--,value of real knowledge diminished--,some good effects of affectations--,their bad effect on workers--,skill in amusements4 ,the kind of life which you have been leading for the last three or four years will always be valuable to you as a past experience1 but if the intellectual ambition you confess to me is quite serious1 ,i would venture to suggest that there are certain dangers in the continuation of your present existence if altogether uninterrupted4 ,pray do not suspect me of any narrow prejudice against human intercourse1 or of any wish to make a hermit of you before your time1 but believe that the few observations ,i have to make are grounded simply on the desire that your career should be entirely satisfactory to your own maturer judgment1 when you will look back upon it after many years4 ,an intellectual man may go into general society quite safely if only he can resist its influence upon his serious work2 but such resistance is difficult in maturity and impossible in youth4 ,the sort of influence most to be dreaded is this4 ,society is1 and must be1 based upon appearances1 and not upon the deepest realities4 ,it requires some degree of reality to produce the appearance1 but not a substantial reality4 ,gilding is the perfect type of what ,society requires4 ,a certain quantity of gold is necessary for the work of the gilder1 but a very small quantity1 and skill in applying the metal so as to cover a large surface1 is of greater consequence than the weight of the metal itself4 ,the mind of a fashionable person is a carefully gilded mind4 ,consider fashionable education4 ,society imperatively requires an outside knowledge of many things2 not permitting the frank confession of ignorance1 whilst it is yet satisfied with a degree of knowledge differing only from avowed ignorance in permitting you to be less sincere4 ,all young ladies1 whether gifted by nature with any musical talent or not1 are compelled to say that they have learned to play upon the piano2 all young gentlemen are compelled to affect to know ,latin4 ,in the same way the public opinion of ,society compels its members to pretend to know and appreciate the masterpieces of literature and art4 ,there is1 in truth1 so much compulsion of this kind that it is not easy to ascertain what people do really know and care about until they admit you into their confidence4 ,the inevitable effect of these affectations is to diminish the value1 in ,society1 of genuine knowledge and accomplishment of all kinds4 ,i know a man who is a ,latin scholar2 he is one of the few moderns who have really learned ,latin2 but in fashionable society this brings him no distinction1 because we are all supposed to know ,latin1 and the true scholar1 when he appears1 cannot be distinguished from the multitude of fashionable pretenders4 ,i know another man who can draw2 there are not many men1 even amongst artists1 who can draw soundly2 yet in fashionable society he does not get the serious sort of respect which he deserves1 because fashionable people believe that drawing is an accomplishment generally attainable by young ladies and communicable by governesses4 ,i have no wish to insinuate that ,society is wrong1 in requiring a certain pretence to education in various subjects1 and a certain affectation of interest in masterpieces1 for these pretences and affectations do serve to deliver it from the darkness of a quite absolute ignorance4 ,a society of fashionable people who think it necessary to be able to talk superficially about the labors of men really belonging to the intellectual class1 is always sure to be much better informed than a ,society such as that of the ,french peasantry1 for example1 where nobody is expected to know anything4 ,it is well for ,society itself that it should profess a deep respect for classical learning1 for the great modern poets and painters1 for scientific discoverers1 even though the majority of its members do not seriously care about them4 ,the pretension itself requires a certain degree of knowledge1 as gilding requires a certain quantity of gold4 ,the evil effects of these affectations may be summed up in a sentence4 ,they diminish the apparent value of the realities which they imitate1 and they tend to weaken our enthusiasm for those great realities1 and our ardor in the pursuit of them4 ,the impression which fashionable society produces upon a student who has strength enough to resist it1 is a painful sense of isolation in his earnest work4 ,if he goes back to the work with courage undiminished1 he still clearly realizes--what it would be better for him not to realize quite so clearly--the uselessness of going beyond fashionable standards1 if he aims at social success4 ,and there is still another thing to be said which concerns you just now very particularly4 ,whoever leads the intellectual life in earnest is sure on some points to fail in strict obedience to the exigencies of fashionable life1 so that1 if fashionable successes are still dear to him1 he will be constantly tempted to make some such reflections as the following3--,here am ,i1 giving years and years of labor to a pursuit which brings no external reward1 when half as much work would keep me abreast of the society ,i live with1 in everything it really cares about4 ,i know quite well all that my learning is costing me4 ,other men outshine me easily in social pleasures and accomplishments4 ,my skill at billiards and on the moors is evidently declining1 and ,i cannot ride or drive so well as fellows who do very little else4 ,in fact ,i am becoming an old muff1 and all ,i have to show on the other side is a degree of scholarship which only six men in ,europe can appreciate1 and a speciality in natural science in which my little discoveries are sure to be either anticipated or left behind4 ,the truth is1 that to succeed well in fashionable society the higher intellectual attainments are not so useful as distinguished skill in those amusements which are the real business of the fashionable world4 ,the three things which tell best in your favor amongst young gentlemen are to be an excellent shot1 to ride well to hounds1 and to play billiards with great skill4 ,i wish to say nothing against any of these accomplishments1 having an especially hearty admiration and respect for all good horsemen1 and considering the game of billiards the most perfectly beautiful of games2 still1 the fact remains that to do these things as well as some young gentlemen do them1 we must devote the time which they devote1 and if we regularly give nine hours a day to graver occupations1 pray1 how and where are we to find it8 ,,letter ,,iii4 ,,to ,a ,,young ,,gentleman ,,who ,,lived ,,much ,,in ,,fashionable ,,society4 ,some exceptional men may live alternately in different worlds--,instances--,differences between the fashionable and the intellectual spirit--,men sometimes made unfashionable by special natural gifts--,sometimes by trifling external circumstances--,anecdote of ,ampre--,he did not shine in society--,his wife's anxieties about his material wants--,apparent contrast between ,ampre and ,oliver ,goldsmith4 ,you ask me why there should be any fundamental incompatibility between the fashionable and the intellectual lives4 ,it seems to you that the two might possibly be reconciled1 and you mention instances of men who attained intellectual distinction without deserting the fashionable world4 ,yes1 there have been a few examples of men endowed with that overflow of energy which permits the most opposite pursuits1 and enables its possessors to live1 apparently1 in two worlds between which there is not any natural affinity4 ,a famous ,french novelist once took the trouble to elaborate the portrait of a lady who passed one half of her time in virtue and churches1 whilst she employed the other half in the wildest adventures4 ,in real life ,i may allude to a distinguished ,english engraver1 who spent a fortnight over his plate and a fortnight in some fashionable watering-place1 alternately1 and who found this distribution of his time not unfavorable to the elasticity of his mind4 ,many hard-working ,londoners1 who fairly deserve to be considered intellectual men1 pass their days in professional labor and their evenings in fashionable society4 ,but in all instances of this kind the professional work is serious enough1 and regular enough1 to give a very substantial basis to the life1 so that the times of recreation are kept daily subordinate by the very necessity of circumstances4 ,if you had a profession1 and were obliged to follow it in earnest six or eight hours a day1 the more ,society amused you the better4 ,the danger in your case is that your whole existence may take a fashionable tone4 ,the esprit or tone of fashion differs from the intellectual tone in ways which ,i will attempt to define4 ,fashion is nothing more than the temporary custom of rich and idle people who make it their principal business to study the external elegance of life4 ,this custom incessantly changes4 ,if your habits of mind and life change with it you are a fashionable person1 but if your habits of mind and life either remain permanently fixed or follow some law of your own individual nature1 then you are outside of fashion4 ,the intellectual spirit is remarkable for its independence of custom1 and therefore on many occasions it will clash with the fashionable spirit4 ,it does so most frequently in the choice of pursuits1 and in the proportionate importance which the individual student will 7in his own case7 assign to his pursuits4 ,the regulations of fashionable life have fixed1 at the least temporarily1 the degree of time and attention which a fashionable person may devote to this thing or that4 ,the intellectual spirit ignores these regulations1 and devotes its possessor1 or more accurately its possessed1 to the intellectual speciality for which he has most aptitude1 often leaving him ignorant of what fashion has decided to be essential4 ,after living the intellectual life for several years he will know too much of one thing and too little of some other things to be in conformity with the fashionable ideal4 ,for example1 the fashionable ideal of a gentleman requires classical scholarship1 but it is so difficult for artists and men of science to be classical scholars also that in this respect they are likely to fall short4 ,i knew a man who became unfashionable because he had a genius for mechanics4 ,he was always about steam-engines1 and1 though a gentleman by birth1 associated from choice with men who understood the science that chiefly interested him1 of which all fashionable people were so profoundly ignorant that he habitually kept out of their way4 ,he1 on his part1 neglected scholarship and literature and all that artistry of life1 as ,mr4 ,robert ,lytton calls it1 in which fashionable society excels4 ,men are frequently driven into unfashionable existence by the very force and vigor of their own intellectual gifts1 and sometimes by external circumstances1 apparently most trifling1 yet of infinite influence on human destiny4 ,there is a good instance of this in a letter from ,ampre to his young wife1 that ,julie who was lost to him so soon4 ,i went to dine yesterday at ,madame ,beauregard's with hands blackened by a harmless drug which stains the skin for three or four days4 ,she declared that it looked like manure1 and left the table1 saying that she would dine when ,i was at a distance4 ,i promised not to return there before my hands were white4 ,of course ,i shall never enter the house again4 ,here we have an instance of a man of science who has temporarily disqualified himself for polite society by an experiment in the pursuit of knowledge4 ,what do you think of the vulgarity of ,madame ,beauregard8 ,to me it appears the perfect type of that preoccupation about appearances which blinds the genteel vulgar to the true nobility of life4 ,were not ,ampre's stained hands nobler than many white ones8 ,it is not necessary for every intellectual worker to blacken his fingers with chemicals1 but a kind of rust very frequently comes over him which ought to be as readily forgiven1 yet rarely is forgiven4 ,in his relations with the world1 writes the biographer of ,ampre1 the authority of superiority disappeared4 ,to this the course of years brought no alternative4 ,ampre become celebrated1 laden with honorable distinctions1 the great ,ampre6 outside the speculations of the intellect1 was hesitating and timid again1 disquieted and troubled1 and more disposed to accord his confidence to others than to himself4 ,intellectual pursuits did not qualify ,ampre1 they do not qualify any one1 for success in fashionable society4 ,to succeed in the world you ought to be of the world1 so as to share the things which interest it without too wide a deviation from the prevalent current of your thoughts4 ,its passing interests1 its temporary customs1 its transient phases of sentiment and opinion1 ought to be for the moment your own interests1 your own feelings and opinions4 ,a mind absorbed as ,ampre's was in the contemplation and elucidation of the unchangeable laws of nature1 is too much fixed upon the permanent to adapt itself naturally to these ever-varying estimates4 ,he did not easily speak the world's lighter language1 he could not move with its mobility4 ,such men forget even what they eat and what they put on2 ,ampre's young wife was in constant anxiety1 whilst the pair were separated by the severity of their fate1 as to the sufficiency of his diet and the decency of his appearance4 ,one day she writes to him to mind not to go out in his shabby old coat1 and in the same letter she entreats him to purchase a bottle of wine1 so that when he took no milk or broth he would find it1 and when it was all drunk she tells him to buy another bottle4 ,afterwards she asks him whether he makes a good fire1 and if he has any chairs in his room4 ,in another letter she inquires if his bed is comfortable1 and in another she tells him to mind about his acids1 for he has burnt holes in his blue stockings4 ,again1 she begs him to try to have a passably decent appearance1 because that will give pleasure to his poor wife4 ,he answers1 to tranquillize her1 that he does not burn his things now1 and that he makes chemical experiments only in his old breeches with his gray coat and his waistcoat of greenish velvet4 ,but one day he is forced to confess that she must send him new trousers if he is to appear before ,,mm4 ,delambre and ,villars4 ,he does not know what to do1 his best breeches still smell of turpentine1 and1 having wished to put on trousers to go to the ,society of ,emulation1 he saw the hole which ,barrat fancied he had mended become bigger than ever1 so that it showed the piece of different cloth which he had sown under it4 ,he adds that his wife will be afraid that he will spoil his beau pantalon1 but he promises to send it back to her as clean as when he received it4 ,how different is all this from that watchful care about externals which marks the man of fashion6 ,ampre was quite a young man then1 still almost a bridegroom1 yet he is already so absorbed in the intellectual life as to forget appearances utterly1 except when ,julie1 with feminine watchfulness1 writes to recall them to his mind4 ,i am not defending or advocating this carelessness4 ,it is better to be neat and tidy than to go in holes and patches2 but ,i desire to insist upon the radical difference between the fashionable spirit and the intellectual spirit4 ,and this difference1 which shows itself in these external things1 is not less evident in the clothing or preparation of the mind4 ,ampre's intellect1 great and noble as it was1 could scarcely be considered more suitable for le grand monde than the breeches that smelt of turpentine1 or the trousers made ragged by aquafortis4 ,a splendid contrast1 as to tailoring1 was our own dear ,oliver ,goldsmith1 who displayed himself in those wonderful velvet coats and satin small-clothes from ,mr4 ,filby's1 which are more famous than the finest garments ever worn by prince or peer4 ,who does not remember that bloom-colored coat which the ablest painters have studiously immortalized1 made by ,john ,filby1 at the ,harrow1 in ,water ,lane 7best advertised of tailors671 and that charming blue velvet suit1 which ,mr4 ,filby was never paid for8 ,surely a poet so splendid was fit for the career of fashion6 ,no1 ,oliver ,goldsmith's velvet and lace were the expression of a deep and painful sense of personal unfitness4 ,they were the fine frame which is intended to pass off an awkward and imperfect picture4 ,there was a quieter dignity in ,johnson's threadbare sleeves4 ,johnson1 the most influential though not the most elegant intellect of his time1 is grander in his neglect of fashion than ,goldsmith in his ruinous subservience4 ,and if it were permitted to me to speak of two or three great geniuses who adorn the age in which we ourselves are living1 ,i might add that they seem to follow the example of the author of ,rasselas rather than that of ,mr4 ,filby's illustrious customer4 ,they remind me of a good old squire who1 from a fine sentiment of duty1 permitted the village artist to do his worst upon him1 and incurred thereby this withering observation from his metropolitan tailor3 ,you are covered1 sir1 but you are not dressed6 ,,letter ,,iv4 ,,to ,a ,,young ,,gentleman ,,who ,,lived ,,much ,,in ,,fashionable ,,society4 ,test of professions--,mobility of fashionable taste--,practical service of an external deference to culture--,incompatibility between fashionable and intellectual lives--,what each has to offer4 ,your polite1 almost diplomatic answer to my letter about fashionable society may be not unfairly concentrated into some such paragraph as the following3-- ,what grounds have ,i for concluding that the professed tastes and opinions of ,society are in any degree insincere8 ,may not society be quite sincere in the preferences which it professes1 and are not the preferences themselves almost always creditable to the good taste and really advanced culture of the ,society which ,i suspect of a certain degree of affectation8 ,this is the sense of your letter1 and in reply to it ,i give you a simple but sure test4 ,is the professed opinion carried out in practice1 when there are fair opportunities for practice8 ,let us go so far as to examine a particular instance4 ,your friends profess to appreciate classical literature4 ,do they read it8 ,or1 on the other hand1 do they confine themselves to believing that it is a good thing for other people to read it8 ,when ,i was a schoolboy1 people told me that the classical authors of antiquity were eminently useful1 and indeed absolutely necessary to the culture of the human mind1 but ,i perceived that they did not read them4 ,so ,i have heard many people express great respect for art and science1 only they did not go so far as to master any department of art or science4 ,if you will apply this test to the professions of what is especially called fashionable society it is probable that you will arrive at the conclusions of the minority1 which ,i have endeavored to express4 ,you will find that the fashionable world remains very contentedly outside the true working intellectual life1 and does not really share either its labors or its aspirations4 ,another kind of evidence1 which tells in the same direction1 is the mobility of fashionable taste4 ,at one time some studies are fashionable1 at another time these are neglected and others have taken their place4 ,you will not find this fickleness in the true intellectual world1 which steadily pursues all its various studies1 and keeps them well abreast1 century after century4 ,if ,i insist upon this distinction with reference to you1 do not accuse me of hostility even to fashion itself4 ,fashion is one of the great ,divine institutions of human society1 and the best philosophy rebels against none of the authorities that be1 but studies and endeavors to explain them4 ,the external deference which ,society yields to culture is practically of great service1 although 7,i repeat the epithet7 it is external4 ,the sort of good effect is in the intellectual sphere what the good effect of a general religious profession is in the moral sphere4 ,all fashionable society goes to church4 ,fashionable religion differs from the religion of ,peter and ,paul as fashionable science differs from that of ,humboldt and ,arago1 yet1 notwithstanding this difference1 the profession of religion is useful to ,society as some restraint1 at least during one day out of seven1 upon its inveterate tendency to live exclusively for its amusement4 ,and if any soul happens to come into existence in the fashionable world which has the genuine religious nature1 that nature has a chance of developing itself1 and of finding ready to hand certain customs which are favorable to its well-being4 ,so it is1 though in quite a different direction1 with the esteem which ,society professes for intellectual pursuits4 ,it is an esteem in great part merely nominal1 as fashionable ,christianity is nominal1 and still it helps and favors the early development of the genuine faculty where it exists4 ,it is certainly a great help to us that fashionable society1 which has such a tremendous1 such an almost irresistible power for good or evil1 does not openly discourage our pursuits1 but on the contrary regards them with great external deference and respect4 ,the recognition which ,society has given to artists has been wanting in frankness and in promptitude1 though even in this case much may be said to excuse a sort of hesitation rather than refusal which was attributable to the strangeness and novelty of the artistic caste in ,england2 but ,society has far more than a generation professed a respect for literature and erudition which has helped those two branches of culture more effectually than great subsidies of money4 ,the exact truth seems to be that ,society is sincere in approving our devotion to these pursuits1 but is not yet sufficiently interested in them to appreciate them otherwise than from the outside1 just as a father and mother applaud their boys for reading ,thucydides1 yet do not read him themselves1 either in the original or in a translation4 ,all that ,i care to insist upon is that there is a degree of incompatibility between the fashionable and the intellectual lives which makes it necessary1 at a certain time1 to choose one or the other as our own4 ,there is no hostility1 there need not be any uncharitable feeling on one side or the other1 but there must be a resolute choice between the two4 ,if you decide for the intellectual life1 you will incur a definite loss to set against your gain4 ,your existence may have calmer and profounder satisfactions1 but it will be less amusing1 and even in an appreciable degree less human2 less in harmony1 ,i mean1 with the common instincts and feelings of humanity4 ,for the fashionable world1 although decorated by habits of expense1 has enjoyment for its object1 and arrives at enjoyment by those methods which the experience of generations has proved to be most efficacious4 ,variety of amusement1 frequent change of scenery and society1 healthy exercise1 pleasant occupation of the mind without fatigue--these things do indeed make existence agreeable to human nature1 and the science of living agreeably is better understood in the fashionable society of ,england than by laborious students and savans4 ,the life led by that society is the true heaven of the natural man1 who likes to have frequent feasts and a hearty appetite1 who enjoys the varying spectacle of wealth1 and splendor1 and pleasure1 who loves to watch1 from the ,olympus of his personal ease1 the curious results of labor in which he takes no part1 the interesting ingenuity of the toiling world below4 ,in exchange for these varied pleasures of the spectator the intellectual life can offer you but one satisfaction1 for all its promises are reducible simply to this1 that you shall come at last1 after infinite labor1 into contact with some great reality--that you shall know1 and do1 in such sort that you will feel yourself on firm ground and be recognized--probably not much applauded1 but yet recognized--as a fellow-laborer by other knowers and doers4 ,before you come to this1 most of your present accomplishments will be abandoned by yourself as unsatisfactory and insufficient1 but one or two of them will be turned to better account1 and will give you after many years a tranquil self-respect1 and1 what is still rarer and better1 a very deep and earnest reverence for the greatness which is above you4 ,severed from the vanities of the ,illusory1 you will live with the realities of knowledge1 as one who has quitted the painted scenery of the theatre to listen by the eternal ocean or gaze at the granite hills4 ,,letter ,v4 ,,to ,a ,,young ,,gentleman ,,who ,,kept ,,entirely ,,out ,,of ,,company4 ,that ,society which is frivolous in the mass contains individuals who are not frivolous--,a piece of the author's early experience--,those who keep out of ,society miss opportunities--,people talk about what they have in common--,that we ought to be tolerant of dulness--,the loss to ,society if superior men all held aloof--,utility of the gifted in general society--,they ought not to submit to expulsion4 ,i willingly concede all that you say against fashionable society as a whole4 ,it is1 as you say1 frivolous1 bent on amusement1 incapable of attention sufficiently prolonged to grasp any serious subject1 and liable both to confusion and inaccuracy in the ideas which it hastily forms or easily receives4 ,you do right1 assuredly1 not to let it waste your most valuable hours1 but ,i believe also that you do wrong in keeping out of it altogether4 ,the society which seems so frivolous in masses contains individual members who1 if you knew them better1 would be able and willing to render you the most efficient intellectual help1 and you miss this help by restricting yourself exclusively to books4 ,nothing can replace the conversation of living men and women2 not even the richest literature can replace it4 ,many years ago ,i was thrown by accident amongst a certain society of ,englishmen who1 when they were all together1 never talked about anything worth talking about4 ,their general conversations were absolutely empty and null1 and ,i concluded1 as young men so easily conclude1 that those twenty or thirty gentlemen had not half a dozen ideas amongst them4 ,a little reflection might have reminded me that my own talk was no better than theirs1 and consequently that there might be others in the company who also knew more and thought more than they expressed4 ,i found out1 by accident1 after awhile1 that some of these men had more than common culture in various directions2 one or two had travelled far1 and brought home the results of much observation2 one or two had read largely1 and with profit2 more than one had studied a science2 five or six had seen a great deal of the world4 ,it was a youthful mistake to conclude that1 because their general conversation was very dull1 the men were dull individually4 ,the general conversations of ,english society are dull2 it is a national characteristic4 ,but the men themselves are individually often very well informed1 and quite capable of imparting their information to a single interested listener4 ,the art is to be that listener4 ,englishmen have the greatest dread of producing themselves in the semi-publicity of a general conversation1 because they fear that their special topics may not be cared for by some of the persons present2 but if you can get one of them into a quiet corner by himself1 and humor his shyness with sufficient delicacy and tact1 he will disburden his mind at last1 and experience a relief in so doing4 ,by keeping out of society altogether you miss these precious opportunities4 ,the wise course is to mix as much with the world as may be possible without withdrawing too much time from your serious studies1 but not to expect anything valuable from the general talk1 which is nothing but a neutral medium in which intelligences float and move as yachts do in sea-water1 and for which they ought not to be held individually responsible4 ,the talk of ,society answers its purpose if it simply permits many different people to come together without clashing1 and the purpose of its conventions is the avoidance of collision4 ,in ,england the small talk is heavy1 like water2 in ,france it is light as air2 in both countries it is a medium and no more4 ,society talks1 by preference1 about amusements2 it does so because when people meet for recreation they wish to relieve their minds from serious cares1 and also for the practical reason that ,society must talk about what its members have in common1 and their amusements are more in common than their work4 ,as ,m4 ,thiers recommended the republican form of government in ,france on the ground that it was the form which divided his countrymen least1 so a polite and highly civilized society chooses for the subject of general conversation the topic which is least likely to separate the different people who are present4 ,it almost always happens that the best topic having this recommendation is some species of amusement2 since amusements are easily learnt outside the business of life1 and we are all initiated into them in youth4 ,for these reasons ,i think that we ought to be extremely tolerant of the dulness or frivolity which may seem to prevail in any numerous company1 and not to conclude too hastily that the members of it are in any degree more dull or frivolous than ourselves4 ,it is unfortunate1 certainly1 that the art of general conversation is not so successfully cultivated as it might be1 and there are reasons for believing that our posterity will surpass us in this respect1 because as culture increases the spirit of toleration increases with it1 so that the great questions of politics and religion1 in which all are interested1 may be discussed more safely than they could be at the present day1 by persons of different ways of thinking4 ,but even the sort of general conversation we have now1 poor as it may seem1 still sufficiently serves as a medium for human intercourse1 and permits us to meet on a common ground where we may select at leisure the agreeable or instructive friends that our higher intellect needs1 and without whom the intellectual life is one of the ghastliest of solitudes4 ,and now permit me to add a few observations on another aspect of this subject1 which is not without its importance4 ,let us suppose that every one of rather more than ordinary capacity and culture were to act as you yourself are acting1 and withdraw entirely from general society4 ,let us leave out of consideration for the present the loss to their private culture which would be the consequence of missing every opportunity for forming new intellectual friendships4 ,let us consider1 this time1 what would be the consequence to ,society itself4 ,if all the cultivated men were withdrawn from it1 the general tone of ,society would inevitably descend much lower even than it is at present2 it would sink so low that the whole national intellect would undergo a sure and inevitable deterioration4 ,it is plainly the duty of men situated as you are1 who have been endowed by nature with superior faculties1 and who have enlarged them by the acquisition of knowledge1 to preserve ,society by their presence from an evil so surely prolific of bad consequences4 ,if ,society is less narrow1 and selfish1 and intolerant1 and apathetic than it used to be1 it is because they who are the salt of the earth have not disdained to mix with its grosser and earthier elements4 ,all the improvement in public sentiment1 and the advancement in general knowledge which have marked the course of recent generations1 are to be attributed to the wholesome influence of men who could think and feel1 and who steadily exercised1 often quite obscurely1 yet not the less usefully in their time and place1 the subtle but powerful attraction of the greater mind over the less4 ,instead of complaining that people are ignorant and frivolous1 we ought to go amongst them and lead them to the higher life4 ,i know not how it is1 said one in a dull circle to a more gifted friend who entered it occasionally1 when we are left to ourselves we are all lamentably stupid1 but whenever you are kind enough to come amongst us we all talk very much better1 and of things that are well worth talking about4 ,the gifted man is always welcome1 if only he will stoop to conquer1 and forget himself to give light and heat to others4 ,the low ,philistinism of many a provincial town is due mainly to the shy reserve of the one or two superior men who fancy that they cannot amalgamate with the common intellect of the place4 ,not only would ,i advocate a little patient condescension1 but even something of the sturdier temper which will not be driven out4 ,are the ,philistines to have all the talk to themselves forever2 are they to rehearse their stupid old platitudes without the least fear of contradiction8 ,how long1 ,o ,lord8 how long8 ,let us resolve that even in general society they shall not eternally have things their own way4 ,somebody ought to have the courage to enlighten them even at their own tables1 and in the protecting presence of their admiring wives and daughters4 ,,letter ,,vi4 ,,to ,a ,,friend ,,who ,,kindly ,,warned ,,the ,,author ,,of ,,the ,,bad ,,effects ,,of ,,solitude4 ,v solis--,society and solitude alike necessary--,the use of each--,in solitude we know ourselves--,montaigne as a book-buyer--,compensations of solitude--,description of one who loved and sought it--,how men are driven into solitude--,cultivated people in the provinces--,use of solitude as a protection for rare and delicate natures--,shelley's dislike to general society--,wordsworth and ,turner--,sir ,isaac ,newton's repugnance to society--,auguste ,comte--,his systematic isolation and unshakable firmness of purpose--,milton and ,bunyan--,the solitude which is really injurious--,painters and authors--,an ideal division of life4 ,you cry to me ,v solis6 and the cry seems not the less loud and stirring that it comes in the folds of a letter4 ,just at first it quite startled and alarmed me1 and made me strangely dissatisfied with my life and work2 but farther reflection has been gradually reconciling me ever since1 and now ,i feel cheerful again1 and in a humor to answer you4 ,woe unto him that is alone6 ,this has been often said1 but the studious recluse may answer1 ,woe unto him that is never alone and cannot bear to be alone6 ,we need society1 and we need solitude also1 as we need summer and winter1 day and night1 exercise and rest4 ,i thank heaven for a thousand pleasant and profitable conversations with acquaintances and friends2 ,i thank heaven also1 and not less gratefully1 for thousands of sweet hours that have passed in solitary thought or labor1 under the silent stars4 ,society is necessary to give us our share and place in the collective life of humanity1 but solitude is necessary to the maintenance of the individual life4 ,society is to the individual what travel and commerce are to a nation2 whilst solitude represents the home life of the nation1 during which it develops its especial originality and genius4 ,the life of the perfect hermit1 and that of those persons who feel themselves nothing individually1 and have no existence but what they receive from others1 are alike imperfect lives4 ,the perfect life is like that of a ship of war which has its own place in the fleet and can share in its strength and discipline1 but can also go forth alone in the solitude of the infinite sea4 ,we ought to belong to ,society1 to have our place in it1 and yet to be capable of a complete individual existence outside of it4 ,which of the two is the grander1 the ship in the disciplined fleet1 arranged in order of battle1 or the ship alone in the tempest1 a thousand miles from land8 ,the truest grandeur of the ship is neither in one nor the other1 but in the capacity for both4 ,what would that captain merit who either had not seamanship enough to work under the eye of the admiral1 or else had not sufficient knowledge of navigation to be trusted out of the range of signals8 ,i value society for the abundance of ideas that it brings before us1 like carriages in a frequented street2 but ,i value solitude for sincerity and peace1 and for the better understanding of the thoughts that are truly ours4 ,only in solitude do we learn our inmost nature and its needs4 ,he who has lived for some great space of existence apart from the tumult of the world1 has discovered the vanity of the things for which he has no natural aptitude or gift--their relative vanity1 ,i mean1 their uselessness to himself1 personally2 and at the same time he has learned what is truly precious and good for him4 ,surely this is knowledge of inestimable value to a man3 surely it is a great thing for any one in the bewildering confusion of distracting toils and pleasures to have found out the labor that he is most fit for and the pleasures that satisfy him best4 ,society so encourages us in affectations that it scarcely leaves us a chance of knowing our own minds2 but in solitude this knowledge comes of itself1 and delivers us from innumerable vanities4 ,montaigne tells us that at one time he bought books from ostentation1 but that afterwards he bought only such books as he wanted for his private reading4 ,in the first of these conditions of mind we may observe the influence of society2 in the second the effect of solitude4 ,the man of the world does not consult his own intellectual needs1 but considers the eyes of his visitors2 the solitary student takes his literature as a lonely traveller takes food when he is hungry1 without reference to the ordered courses of public hospitality4 ,it is a traditional habit of mankind to see only the disadvantages of solitude1 without considering its compensations2 but there are great compensations1 some of the greatest being negative4 ,the lonely man is lord of his own hours and of his own purse2 his days are long and unbroken1 he escapes from every form of ostentation1 and may live quite simply and sincerely in great calm breadths of leisure4 ,i knew one who passed his summers in the heart of a vast forest1 in a common thatched cottage with furniture of common deal1 and for this retreat he quitted very gladly a rich fine house in the city4 ,he wore nothing but old clothes1 read only a few old books1 without the least regard to the opinions of the learned1 and did not take in a newspaper4 ,on the wall of his habitation he inscribed with a piece of charcoal a quotation from ,de ,snancour to this effect3 ,in the world a man lives in his own age2 in solitude1 in all the ages4 ,i observed in him the effects of a lonely life1 and he greatly aided my observations by frankly communicating his experiences4 ,that solitude had become inexpressibly dear to him1 but he admitted one evil consequence of it1 which was an increasing unfitness for ordinary society1 though he cherished a few tried friendships1 and was grateful to those who loved him and could enter into his humor4 ,he had acquired a horror of towns and crowds1 not from nervousness1 but because he felt imprisoned and impeded in his thinking1 which needed the depths of the forest1 the venerable trees1 the communication with primval nature1 from which he drew a mysterious yet necessary nourishment for the peculiar activity of his mind4 ,i found that his case answered very exactly to the sentence he quoted from ,de ,snancour2 he lived less in his own age than others do1 but he had a fine compensation in a strangely vivid understanding of other ages4 ,like ,de ,snancour1 he had a strong sense of the transitoriness of what is transitory1 and a passionate preference for all that the human mind conceives to be relatively or absolutely permanent4 ,this trait was very observable in his talk about the peoples of antiquity1 and in the delight he took in dwelling rather upon everything which they had in common with ourselves than on those differences which are more obvious to the modern spirit4 ,his temper was grave and earnest1 but unfailingly cheerful1 and entirely free from any tendency to bitterness4 ,the habits of his life would have been most unfavorable to the development of a man of business1 of a statesman1 of a leader in practical enterprise1 but they were certainly not unfavorable to the growth of a tranquil and comprehensive intellect1 capable of just judgment and high-hearted patriotism4 ,he had not the spirit of the newspapers1 he did not live intensely in the present1 but he had the spirit which has animated great poets1 and saints1 and sages1 and far-seeing teachers of humanity4 ,not in vain had he lived alone with ,nature1 not in vain had he watched in solemn twilights and witnessed many a dawn4 ,there is1 there is a strength that comes to us in solitude from that shadowy1 awful ,presence that frivolous crowds repel6 ,solitude may be and is sometimes deliberately accepted or chosen1 but far more frequently men are driven into it by ,nature and by ,fate4 ,they go into solitude to escape the sense of isolation which is always most intolerable when there are many voices round us in loud dissonance with our sincerest thought4 ,it is a great error to encourage in young people the love of noble culture in the hope that it may lead them more into what is called good society4 ,high culture always isolates1 always drives men out of their class and makes it more difficult for them to share naturally and easily the common class-life around them4 ,they seek the few companions who can understand them1 and when these are not to be had within any traversable distance1 they sit and work alone4 ,very possibly too1 in some instances1 a superior culture may compel the possessor of it to hold opinions too far in advance of the opinions prevalent around him to be patiently listened to or tolerated1 and then he must either disguise them1 which is always highly distasteful to a man of honor1 or else submit to be treated as an enemy to human welfare4 ,cultivated people who live in ,london 7their true home7 need never condemn themselves to solitude from this cause1 but in the provinces there are many places where it is not easy for them to live sociably without a degree of reserve that is more wearisome than solitude itself4 ,and however much pains you take to keep your culture well in the background1 it always makes you rather an object of suspicion to people who have no culture4 ,they perceive that you are reserved1 they know that very much of what passes in your mind is a mystery to them1 and this feeling makes them uneasy in your presence1 even afraid of you1 and not indisposed to find a compensation for this uncomfortable feeling in sarcasms behind your back4 ,unless you are gifted with a truly extraordinary power of conciliating goodwill1 you are not likely to get on happily1 for long together1 with people who feel themselves your inferiors4 ,the very utmost skill and caution will hardly avail to hide all your modes of thought4 ,something of your higher philosophy will escape in an unguarded moment1 and give offence because it will seem foolish or incomprehensible to your audience4 ,there is no safety for you but in a timely withdrawal1 either to a society that is prepared to understand you1 or else to a solitude where your intellectual superiorities will neither be a cause of irritation to others nor of vexation to yourself4 ,like all our instincts1 the instinct of solitude has its especial purpose1 which appears to be the protection of rare and delicate natures from the commonplace world around them4 ,though recluses are considered by men of the world to be doomed to inevitable incompetence1 the fact is that many of them have reached the highest distinction in intellectual pursuits4 ,if ,shelley had not disliked general society as he did1 the originality of his own living and thinking would have been less complete2 the influences of mediocre people1 who1 of course1 are always in the majority1 would have silently but surely operated to the destruction of that unequalled and personal delicacy of imagination to which we owe what is inimitable in his poetry4 ,in the last year of his life1 he said to ,trelawny of ,mary1 his second wife1 ,she can't bear solitude1 nor ,i society--the quick coupled with the dead4 ,here is a piteous prayer of his to be delivered from a party that he dreaded3 ,mary says she will have a party6 ,there are ,english singers here1 the ,sinclairs1 and she will ask them1 and every one she or you know4 ,oh the horror6 ,for pity go to ,mary and intercede for me6 ,i will submit to any other species of torture than that of being bored to death by idle ladies and gentlemen4 ,again1 he writes to ,mary3 ,my greatest delight would be utterly to desert all human society4 ,i would retire with you and our child to a solitary island in the sea2 would build a boat1 and shut upon my retreat the flood-gates of the world4 ,i would read no reviews and talk with no authors4 ,if ,i dared trust my imagination it would tell me that there are one or two chosen companions beside yourself whom ,i should desire4 ,but to this ,i would not listen2 where two or three are gathered together1 the devil is among them4 ,at ,marlow he knew little of his neighbors4 ,i am not wretch enough1 he said1 to tolerate an acquaintance4 ,wordsworth and ,turner1 if less systematic in their isolation1 were still solitary workers1 and much of the peculiar force and originality of their performance is due to their independence of the people about them4 ,painters are especial sufferers from the visits of talkative people who know little or nothing of the art they talk about1 and yet who have quite influence enough to disturb the painter's mind by proving to him that his noblest thoughts are surest to be misunderstood4 ,men of science1 too1 find solitude favorable to their peculiar work1 because it permits the concentration of their powers during long periods of time4 ,newton had a great repugnance to society1 and even to notoriety--a feeling which is different1 and in men of genius more rare4 ,no one can doubt1 however1 that ,newton's great intellectual achievements were due in some measure to this peculiarity of his temper1 which permitted him to ripen them in the sustained tranquillity necessary to difficult investigations4 ,auguste ,comte isolated himself not only from preference but on system1 and whatever may have been the defects of his remarkable mind1 and the weakness of its ultimate decay1 it is certain that his amazing command over vast masses of heterogeneous material would have been incompatible with any participation in the passing interests of the world4 ,nothing in intellectual history has ever exceeded the unshakable firmness of purpose with which he dedicated his whole being to the elaboration of the ,positive philosophy4 ,he sacrificed everything to it--position1 time1 health1 and all the amusements and opportunities of society4 ,he found that commonplace acquaintances disturbed his work and interfered with his mastery of it1 so he resolutely renounced them4 ,others have done great things in isolation that was not of their own choosing1 yet none the less fruitful for them and for mankind4 ,it was not when ,milton saw most of the world1 but in the forced retirement of a man who had lost health and eyesight1 and whose party was hopelessly defeated1 that he composed the ,paradise ,lost4 ,it was during tedious years of imprisonment that ,bunyan wrote his immortal allegory4 ,many a genius has owed his best opportunities to poverty1 because poverty had happily excluded him from society1 and so preserved him from time-devouring exigencies and frivolities4 ,the solitude which is really injurious is the severance from all who are capable of understanding us4 ,painters say that they cannot work effectively for very long together when separated from the society of artists1 and that they must return to ,london1 or ,paris1 or ,rome1 to avoid an oppressive feeling of discouragement which paralyzes their productive energy4 ,authors are more fortunate1 because all cultivated people are society for them2 yet even authors lose strength and agility of thought when too long deprived of a genial intellectual atmosphere4 ,in the country you meet with cultivated individuals2 but we need more than this1 we need those general conversations in which every speaker is worth listening to4 ,the life most favorable to culture would have its times of open and equal intercourse with the best minds1 and also its periods of retreat4 ,my ideal would be a house in ,london1 not far from one or two houses that are so full of light and warmth that it is a liberal education to have entered them1 and a solitary tower on some island of the ,hebrides1 with no companions but the sea-gulls and the thundering surges of the ,atlantic4 ,one such island ,i know well1 and it is before my mind's eye1 clear as a picture1 whilst ,i am writing4 ,it stands in the very entrance of a fine salt-water loch1 rising above two hundred feet out of the water and setting its granite front steep against the western ocean4 ,when the evenings are clear you can see ,staffa and ,iona like blue clouds between you and the sunset2 and on your left1 close at hand1 the granite hills of ,mull1 with ,ulva to the right across the narrow strait4 ,it was the dream of my youth to build a tower there1 with three or four little rooms in it1 and walls as strong as a lighthouse4 ,there have been more foolish dreams1 and there have been less competent teachers than the tempests that would have roused me and the calms that would have brought me peace4 ,if any serious thought1 if any noble inspiration might have been hoped for1 surely it would have been there1 where only the clouds and waves were transient1 but the ocean before me1 and the stars above1 and the mountains on either hand1 were emblems and evidences of eternity4 ,,note4--,there is a passage in ,scott's novel1 ,the ,pirate1 which illustrates what has been said in this letter about the necessity for concealing superior culture in the presence of less intellectual companions1 and ,i quote it the more willingly that ,scott was so remarkably free from any morbid aversion to society1 and so capable of taking a sincere interest in every human being4 ,cleveland is speaking to ,minna3-- ,i thought over my former story1 and saw that seeming more brave1 skilful1 and enterprising than others had gained me command and respect1 and that seeming more gently nurtured and more civilized than they had made them envy and hate me as a being of another species4 ,i bargained with myself then1 that since ,i could not lay aside my superiority of intellect and education1 ,i would do my best to disguise and to sink1 in the rude seaman1 all appearance of better feeling and better accomplishments4 ,a similar policy is often quite as necessary in the society of landsmen4 ,,part ,x4 ,,intellectual ,,hygienics4 ,,letter ,i4 ,,to ,a ,,young ,,author ,,whilst ,,he ,,was ,,writing ,,his ,,first ,,book4 ,mr4 ,galton's advice to young travellers--,that we ought to interest ourselves in the progress of a journey--,the same rule applicable in intellectual things--,women in the cabin of a canal boat--,working hastily for temporary purposes--,fevered eagerness to get work done--,beginners have rarely acquired firm intellectual habits--,knowing the range of our own powers--,the coolness of accomplished artists--,advice given by ,ingres--,balzac's method of work--,scott1 ,horace ,vernet1 ,john ,phillip--,decided workers are deliberate workers4 ,i read the other day1 in ,galton's ,art of ,travel1 a little bit which concerns you and all of us1 but ,i made the extract in my commonplace-book for your benefit rather than my own1 because the truth it contains has been borne in upon me by my own experience1 so that what ,mr4 ,galton says did not give me a new conviction1 but only confirmed me in an old one4 ,he is speaking to explorers who have not done so much in that way as he has himself1 and though the subject of his advice is the conduct of an exploring party 7in the wilds of ,australia1 for example7 the advice itself is equally useful if taken metaphorically1 and applied to the conduct of intellectual labors and explorations of all kinds4 ,interest yourself1 says ,mr4 ,galton1 chiefly in the progress of your journey1 and do not look forward to its end with eagerness4 ,it is better to think of a return to civilization1 not as an end to hardship and a haven from ill1 but as a thing to be regretted1 and as a close to an adventurous and pleasant life4 ,in this way1 risking less1 you will insensibly creep on1 making connections1 and learning the capabilities of the country as you advance1 which will be found invaluable in the case of a hurried or a disastrous return4 ,and thus1 when some months have passed by1 you will look back with surprise on the great distance travelled over2 for if you average only three miles a day1 at the end of the year you will have advanced #ajjj1 which is a very considerable exploration4 ,the fable of the hare and the tortoise seems expressly intended for travellers over wide and unknown tracts4 ,yes1 we ought to interest ourselves chiefly in the progress of our work1 and not to look forward to its end with eagerness4 ,that eagerness of which ,mr4 ,galton speaks has spoiled many a piece of work besides a geographical exploration1 and it not only spoils work1 but it does worse1 it spoils life also4 ,how am ,i to enjoy this year as ,i ought1 if ,i am continually wishing it were over8 ,a truly intellectual philosophy must begin by recognizing the fact that the intellectual paths are infinitely long1 that there will always be new horizons behind the horizon that is before us1 and that we must accept a gradual advance as the law of our intellectual life4 ,it is our business to move forwards1 but we ought to do so without any greater feeling of hurry than that which affects the most stationary of minds4 ,not a bad example for us is a bargeman's wife in a canal-boat4 ,she moves2 movement is the law of her life2 yet she is as tranquil in her little cabin as any goodwife on shore1 brewing her tea and preparing her buttered toast without ever thinking about getting to the end of her journey4 ,for if that voyage were ended1 another would always succeed to it1 and another6 ,in striking contrast to the unhurried bargeman's wife in her cabin is an irritable ,frenchman in the corner of a diligence1 looking at his watch every half-hour1 and wishing that the dust and rattle were over1 and he were in his own easy-chair at home4 ,those who really lead the intellectual life1 and have embraced it for better and for worse1 are like the bargeman's wife2 but those who live the life from time to time only1 for some special purpose1 wishing to be rid of it as soon as that purpose is accomplished1 are like the sufferer in the purgatory of the diligence4 ,is there indeed really any true intellectual life at all when every hour of labor is spoiled by a feverish eagerness to be at the end of the projected task8 ,you cannot take a bit out of another man's life and live it1 without having lived the previous years that led up to it1 without having also the assured hopes for the years that lie beyond4 ,the attempt is constantly made by amateurs of all kinds1 and by men of temporary purposes1 and it always fails4 ,the amateur says when he awakes on some fine summer morning1 and draws up his blind1 and looks out on the dewy fields3 ,ah1 the world of nature is beautiful to-day3 what if ,i were to lead the life of an artist8 ,and after breakfast he seeks up his old box of watercolor and his blockbook1 and stool1 and white umbrella1 and what not1 and sallies forth1 and fixes himself on the edge of the forest or the banks of the amber stream4 ,the day that he passes there looks like an artist's day1 yet it is not4 ,it has not been preceded by the three or four thousand days which ought to have led up to it2 it is not strong in the assured sense of present skill1 in the calm knowledge that the hours will bear good fruit4 ,so the chances are that there will be some hurry1 and fretfulness1 and impatience1 under the shadow of that white parasol1 and also that when the day is over there will be a disappointment4 ,you cannot put an artist's day into the life of any one but an artist4 ,our impatiences come mainly1 ,i think1 from an amateurish doubt about our own capacity1 which is accompanied by a fevered eagerness to see the work done1 because we are tormented both by hopes and fears so long as it is in progress4 ,we have fears that it may not turn out as it ought to do1 and we have at the same time hopes for its success4 ,both these causes produce eagerness1 and deprive us of the tranquillity which distinguishes the thorough workman1 and which is necessary to thoroughness in the work itself4 ,now please observe that ,i am not advising you to set aside these hopes and fears by an effort of the will2 when you have them they are the inevitable result of your state of culture1 and the will can no more get rid of them than it can get rid of an organic disease4 ,when you have a limited amount of power and of culture1 and are not quite clear in your own mind as to where the limits lie1 it is natural on the one hand that you should fear the insufficiency of what you possess1 and on the other that in more sanguine moments you should indulge in hopes which are only extravagant because your powers have not yet been accurately measured4 ,you will alternate between fear and hope1 according to the temporary predominance of saddening or cheerful ideas1 but both these feelings will urge you to complete the work in hand1 that you may see your own powers reflected in it1 and measure them more exactly4 ,this is the main cause of the eagerness of young authors1 and the reason why they often launch work upon the sea of publicity which is sure to go immediately to the bottom1 from the unworkmanlike haste with which it has been put together4 ,but beyond this there is another cause1 which is1 that beginners in literature have rarely acquired firm intellectual habits1 that they do not yet lead the tranquil intellectual life1 so that such a piece of work as the composition of a book keeps them in an unwholesome state of excitement4 ,when you feel this coming upon you1 pray remember ,mr4 ,galton's wise traveller in unknown tracts1 or the bargeman's wife in the canal-boat4 ,amongst the many advantages of experience1 one of the most valuable is that we come to know the range of our own powers1 and if we are wise we keep contentedly within them4 ,this relieves us from the malady of eagerness2 we know pretty accurately beforehand what our work will be when it is done1 and therefore we are not in a hurry to see it accomplished4 ,the coolness of old hands in all departments of labor is due in part to the cooling of the temperament by age1 but it is due even more to the fulness of acquired experience1 for we do not find middle-aged men so cool in situations where they feel themselves incompetent4 ,the conduct of the most experienced painters in the management of their work is a good example of this masterly coolness1 because we can see them painting in their studios whereas we cannot so easily see or so justly estimate the coolness of scientific or literary workmen4 ,a painter of great experience will have1 usually1 several pictures at a time upon his easels1 and pass an hour upon one1 or an hour upon the other1 simple as the state of the pigment invites him without ever being tempted to risk anything by hurrying a process4 ,the ugly preparatory daubing which irritates the impatience of the beginner does not disturb his equanimity2 he has laid it with a view to the long-foreseen result1 and it satisfies him temporarily as the right thing for the time being4 ,if you know what is the right thing for the time being1 and always do it1 you are sure of the calm of the thorough workman4 ,all his touches1 except the very last touch on each work1 are touches of preparation1 leading gradually up to his result4 ,ingres used to counsel his pupils to sketch always1 to sketch upon and within the first sketch till the picture came right in the end2 and this was strictly ,balzac's method in literature4 ,the literary and artistic labors of these two men did not proceed so much upon the principle of travelling as upon that of cultivation4 ,they took an idea in the rough1 as a settler takes a tract from wild nature1 and then they went over it repeatedly1 each time pushing the cultivation of it a little farther4 ,scott1 ,horace ,vernet1 ,john ,phillip1 and many others1 have worked rather on the principle of travelling1 passing over the ground once1 and leaving it1 never coming back again to correct the mistakes of yesterday4 ,both methods of work require deliberation1 but the latter needs it in the supreme degree4 ,all very decided workers1 men who did not correct1 have been at the same time very deliberate workers--rapid1 in the sense of accomplishing much in the course of the year1 or the life1 but cautious and slow and observant whilst they actually labored1 thinking out very carefully every sentence before they wrote it1 every touch of paint before they laid it4 ,,letter ,,ii4 ,,to ,a ,,student ,,in ,,the ,,first ,,ardor ,,of ,,intellectual ,,ambition4 ,the first freshness--,why should it not be preserved8--,the dulness of the intellectual--,fictions and false promises--,ennui in work itself--,drer's engraving of ,melancholy--,scott about ,dryden--,byron1 ,shelley1 ,wordsworth--,humboldt1 ,cuvier1 ,goethe--,tennyson's ,maud--,preventives of ennui--,hard study for limited times--,the ennui of jaded faculties4 ,i have been thinking about you frequently of late1 and the burden or refrain of my thoughts has been ,what a blessing he has in that first freshness1 if only he could keep it6 ,but now ,i am beginning more hopefully to ask myself1 ,why should he not keep it8 ,it would be an experiment worth trying1 so to order your intellectual life1 that however stony and thorny your path might be1 however difficult and arduous1 it should at all events never be dull2 or1 to express what ,i mean more accurately1 that you yourself should never feel the depressing influences of dulness during the years when they are most to be dreaded4 ,i want you to live steadily and happily in your intellectual labors1 even to the natural close of existence1 and my best wish for you is that you may escape a long and miserable malady which brain-workers very commonly suffer from when the first dreams of youth have been disappointed--a malady in which the intellectual desires are feeble1 the intellectual hopes are few2 whose victim1 if he has still resolution enough to learn anything1 acquires without satisfaction1 and1 if he has courage to create1 has neither pride nor pleasure in his creations4 ,if ,i were to sing the praises of knowledge as they have been so often sung by louder harps than mine1 ,i might avoid so dreary a theme4 ,it is easy to pretend to believe that the intellectual life is always sure to be interesting and delightful1 but the truth is that1 either from an unwise arrangement of their work1 or from mental or physical causes which we will investigate to some extent before we have done with the subject1 many men whose occupations are reputed to be amongst the most interesting have suffered terribly from ennui1 and that not during a week or two at a time1 but for consecutive years and years4 ,there is a class of books written with the praiseworthy intention of stimulating young men to intellectual labor1 in which this danger of the intellectual life is systematically ignored4 ,it is assumed in these books that the satisfactions of intellectual labor are certain2 that although it may not always1 or often1 result in outward and material prosperity1 its inward joys will never fail4 ,promises of this kind cannot safely be made to any one4 ,the satisfactions of intellectual riches are not more sure than the satisfactions of material riches2 the feeling of dull indifference which often so mysteriously clouds the life of the rich man in the midst of the most elaborate contrivances for his pleasure and amusement1 has its exact counterpart in the lives of men who are rich in the best treasures of the mind1 and who have infinite intellectual resources4 ,however brilliant your ability1 however brave and persistent your industry1 however vast your knowledge1 there is always this dreadful possibility of ennui4 ,people tell you that work is a specific against it1 but many a man has worked steadily and earnestly1 and suffered terribly from ennui all the time that he was working1 although the labor was of his own choice1 the labor that he loved best1 and for which ,nature evidently intended him4 ,the poets1 from ,solomon downwards1 have all of them1 so far as ,i know1 given utterance in one page or another of their writings to this feeling of dreary dissatisfaction1 and ,albert ,drer1 in his ,melencolia1 illustrated it4 ,it is plain that the robust female figure which has exercised the ingenuity of so many commentators is not melancholy either from weakness of the body or vacancy of the mind4 ,she is strong and she is learned2 yet1 though the plumes of her wings are mighty1 she sits heavily and listlessly1 brooding amidst the implements of suspended labor1 on the shore of a waveless sea4 ,the truth is that ,drer engraved the melancholy that he himself only too intimately knew4 ,this is not the dulness of the ignorant and incapable1 whose minds are a blank because they have no ideas1 whose hands are listless for want of an occupation2 it is the sadness of the most learned1 the most intelligent1 the most industrious2 the weary misery of those who are rich in the attainments of culture1 who have the keys of the chambers of knowledge1 and wings to bear them to the heaven of the ideal4 ,if you counsel this ,melencolia to work that she may be merry1 she will answer that she knows the uses of labor and its vanity1 and the precise amount of profit that a man hath of all his labor which he taketh under the sun4 ,all things are full of labor1 she will tell you2 and in much wisdom is much grief1 and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow4 ,can we escape this brooding melancholy of the great workers--has any truly intellectual person escaped it ever8 ,the question can never be answered with perfect certainty1 because we can never quite accurately know the whole truth about the life of another4 ,i have known several men of action1 almost entirely devoid of intellectual culture1 who enjoyed an unbroken flow of animal energy and were clearly free from the melancholy of ,drer2 but ,i never intimately knew a really cultivated person who had not suffered from it more or less1 and the greatest sufferers were the most conscientious thinkers and students4 ,amongst the illustrious dead1 it may be very safely answered that any poet who has described it has written from his own experience--a transient experience it may be1 yet his own4 ,when ,walter ,scott1 -propos of ,dryden1 spoke of the apparently causeless fluctuation of spirits incident to one doomed to labor incessantly in the feverish exercise of the imagination1 and of that sinking of spirit which follows violent mental exertion1 is it not evident that his kindly understanding of ,dryden's case came from the sympathy of a fellow-laborer who knew by his own experience the gloomier and more depressing passages of the imaginative life8 ,it would be prudent perhaps to omit the mention of ,byron1 because some may attribute his sadness to his immorality2 and if ,i spoke of ,shelley1 they might answer that he was sad because he was impious2 but the truth is1 that quite independently of conduct1 and even of belief1 it was scarcely possible for natures so highly imaginative as these two1 and so ethereally intellectual as one of the two1 to escape those clouds of gloom which darken the intellectual life4 ,wordsworth was not immoral1 ,wordsworth was not unorthodox1 yet he could be as sad in his own sober way as ,byron in the bitterness of his desolation1 or ,shelley in his tenderest wailing4 ,the three men who seem to have been the least subject to the sadness of intellectual workers were ,alexander ,humboldt1 ,cuvier1 and ,goethe4 ,alexander ,humboldt1 so far as is known to us1 lived always in a clear and cheerful daylight2 his appetite for learning was both strong and regular2 he embraced the intellectual life in his earliest manhood1 and lived in it with an unhesitating singleness of purpose1 to the limits of extreme old age4 ,cuvier was to the last a model student1 of a temper at once most unflinching and most kind1 happy in all his studies1 happier still in his unequalled facility of mental self-direction4 ,goethe1 as all know1 lived a life of unflagging interest in each of the three great branches of intellectual labor4 ,during the whole of his long life he was interested in literature1 in which he was a master2 he was interested in science1 in which he was a discoverer1 and in art1 of which he was an ardent though not practically successful student4 ,his intellectual activity ceased only on rare occasions of painful illness or overwhelming affliction2 he does not seem to have asked himself ever whether knowledge was worth its cost2 he was always ready to pay the appointed price of toil4 ,he had no infirmity of intellectual doubt2 the powerful impulses from within assured him that knowledge was good for him1 and he went to it urged by an unerring instinct1 as a young salmon bred in the slime of a river seeks strength in the infinite sea4 ,and yet1 being a poet and a man of strong passions1 ,goethe did not altogether escape the green-sickness which afflicts the imaginative temperament1 or he could never have written ,werther2 but he cured himself very soon1 and the author of ,werther had no indulgence for ,wertherism--indeed we are told that he grew ashamed of having written the book which inoculated the younger minds of ,europe with that miserable disease4 ,in our own time an illustrious poet has given in ,maud a very perfect study of a young mind in a morbid condition1 a mind having indeed the student-temper1 but of a bad kind1 that which comes not from the genuine love of study1 but from sulky rage against the world4 ,thanks1 for the fiend best knows whether woman or man be the worse4 ,i will bury myself in my books1 and the ,devil may pipe to his own4 ,this kind of self-burial in one's library does not come from the love of literature4 ,the recluse will not speak to his neighbor1 yet needs human intercourse of some kind1 and seeks it in reading1 urged by an inward necessity4 ,he feels no gratitude towards the winners of knowledge2 his morbid ill-nature depreciates the intellectual laborers3-- ,the man of science himself is fonder of glory and vain2 ,an eye well-practised in nature1 a spirit bounded and poor4 ,what is the life such a spirit will choose for itself8 ,despising alike the ignorant and the learned1 the acuteness of the cultivated and the simplicity of the poor1 in what form of activity or inaction will he seek what all men need1 the harmony of a life well tuned8 ,be mine a philosopher's life in the quiet woodland ways3 ,where1 if ,i cannot be gay1 let a passionless peace be my lot4 ,there are many different morbid states of the mind1 and this of the hero of ,maud is only one of them1 but it is the commonest amongst intellectual or semi-intellectual young men4 ,see how he has a little fit of momentary enthusiasm 7all he is capable of7 about a shell that suddenly and accidentally attracts his attention4 ,how true to the morbid nature is that incident6 ,unable to pursue any large and systematic observation1 the diseased mind is attracted to things suddenly and accidentally1 sees them out of all proportion1 and then falls into the inevitable fit of scornful peevishness4 ,what is it8 ,a learned man ,could give it a clumsy name3 ,let him name it who can4 ,the question which concerns the world is1 how this condition of the mind may be avoided4 ,the cure ,mr4 ,tennyson suggested was war2 but wars1 though more frequent than is desirable1 are not to be had always4 ,and in your case1 my friend1 it is happily not a cure but a preventive that is needed4 ,let me recommend certain precautions which taken together are likely to keep you safe4 ,care for the physical health in the first place1 for if there is a morbid mind the bodily organs are not doing their work as they ought to do4 ,next1 for the mind itself1 ,i would heartily recommend hard study1 really hard study1 taken very regularly but in very moderate quantity4 ,the effect of it on the mind is as bracing as that of cold water on the body1 but as you ought not to remain too long in the cold bath1 so it is dangerous to study hard more than a short time every day4 ,do some work that is very difficult 7such as reading some language that you have to puzzle out coups de dictionnaire7 two hours a day regularly1 to brace the fighting power of the intellect1 but let the rest of the day's work be easier4 ,acquire especially1 if you possibly can1 the enviable faculty of getting entirely rid of your work in the intervals of it1 and of taking a hearty interest in common things1 in a garden1 or stable1 or dog-kennel1 or farm4 ,if the work pursues you--if what is called unconscious cerebration1 which ought to go forward without your knowing it1 becomes conscious cerebration1 and bothers you1 then you have been working beyond your cerebral strength1 and you are not safe4 ,an organization which was intended by ,nature for the intellectual life cannot be healthy and happy without a certain degree of intellectual activity4 ,natures like those of ,humboldt and ,goethe need immense labors for their own felicity1 smaller powers need less extensive labor4 ,to all of us who have intellectual needs there is a certain supply of work necessary to perfect health4 ,if we do less1 we are in danger of that ennui which comes from want of intellectual exercise2 if we do more1 we may suffer from that other ennui which is due to the weariness of the jaded faculties1 and this is the more terrible of the two4 ,,letter ,,iii4 ,,to ,,an ,,intellectual ,,man ,,who ,,desired ,,an ,,outlet ,,for ,,his ,,energies4 ,dissatisfaction of the intellectual when they have not an extensive influence--,a consideration suggested to the author by ,mr4 ,matthew ,arnold--,each individual mind a portion of the national mind1 which must rise or decline with the minds of which it is composed--,influence of a townsman in his town--,household influence--,charities and condescendences of the highly cultivated--,a suggestion of ,m4 ,taine--,conversation with inferiors--,how to make it interesting--,that we ought to be satisfied with humble results and small successes4 ,there is a very marked tendency amongst persons of culture to feel dissatisfied with themselves and their success in life when they do not exercise some direct and visible influence over a considerable portion of the public4 ,to put the case in a more concrete form1 it may be affirmed that if an intellectual young man does not exercise influence by literature1 or by oratory1 or by one of the most elevated forms of art1 he is apt to think that his culture and intelligence are lost upon the world1 and either to blame himself for being what he considers a failure1 or else 7and this is more common7 to find fault with the world in general for not giving him a proper chance of making his abilities tell4 ,the facilities for obtaining culture are now so many and great1 and within the reach of so many well-to-do people1 that hundreds of persons become really very clever in various ways who would have remained utterly uncultivated had they lived in any previous century4 ,a few of these distinguish themselves in literature and other pursuits which bring notoriety to the successful1 but by far the greater number have to remain in positions of obscurity1 often being clearly conscious that they have abilities and knowledge not much1 if at all1 inferior to the abilities and knowledge of some who have achieved distinction4 ,the position of a clever man who remains obscure is1 if he has ambition1 rather trying to the moral fibre1 but there are certain considerations which might help to give a direction to his energy and so procure him a sure relief1 which reputation too frequently fails to provide4 ,the first consideration is one which was offered to me many years ago by ,mr4 ,matthew ,arnold1 and which ,i can give1 though from memory1 very nearly in his own words4 ,the multiplicity of things which make claim to the attention of the public is in these days such that it requires either uncommon strength of will or else the force of peculiar circumstances to make men follow any serious study to good result1 and the great majority content themselves with the general enlightenment of the epoch1 which they get from newspapers and reviews4 ,hence the efforts of the intellectual produce little effect1 and it requires either extraordinary talent or extraordinary fanaticism to awaken the serious interest of any considerable number of readers4 ,yet1 in spite of these discouragements1 we ought to remember that our labors1 if not applauded by others1 may be of infinite value to ourselves1 and also that beyond this gain to the individual1 his culture is a gain to the nation1 whether the nation formally recognizes it or not4 ,for the intellectual life of a nation is the sum of the lives of all intellectual people belonging to it1 and in this sense your culture is a gain to ,england1 whether ,england counts you amongst her eminent sons1 or leaves you forever obscure4 ,is it not a noble spectacle1 a spectacle well worthy of a highly civilized country1 when a private citizen1 with an admirable combination of patriotism and self-respect1 says to himself as he labors1 ,i know that in a country so great as ,england1 where there are so many able men1 all that ,i do can count for very little in public estimation1 yet ,i will endeavor to store my mind with knowledge and make my judgment sure1 in order that the national mind of ,england1 of which my mind is a minute fraction1 may be enlightened by so much1 be it never so little8 ,i think the same noble feeling might animate a citizen with reference to his native town2 ,i think a good townsman might say to himself1 ,our folks are not much given to the cultivation of their minds1 and they need a few to set them an example4 ,i will be one of those few4 ,i will work and think1 in order that our town may not get into a state of perfect intellectual stagnation4 ,but if the nation or the city were too vast to call forth any noble feeling of this kind1 surely the family is little enough and near enough4 ,might not a man say1 ,i will go through a good deal of intellectual drudgery in order that my wife and children may unconsciously get the benefit of it2 ,i will learn facts for them that they may be accurate1 and get ideas for them that they may share with me a more elevated mental state2 ,i will do something towards raising the tone of the whole household8 ,the practical difficulty in all projects of this kind is that the household does not care to be intellectually elevated1 and opposes the resistance of gravitation4 ,the household has its natural intellectual level1 and finds it as inevitably as water that is free4 ,cultivated men are surrounded in their homes by a group of persons1 wife1 children1 servants1 who1 in their intercourse with one another1 create the household tone4 ,what is a single individual with his books against these combined and active influences8 ,is he to go and preach the gospel of the intellect in the kitchen8 ,will he venture to present intellectual conclusions in the drawing-room8 ,the kitchen has a tone of its own which all our efforts cannot elevate1 and the drawing-room has its own atmosphere1 an atmosphere unfavorable to severe and manly thinking4 ,you cannot make cooks intellectual1 and you must not be didactic with ladies4 ,intellectual men always feel this difficulty1 and most commonly keep their intellect very much to themselves1 when they are at home4 ,if they have not an outlet elsewhere1 either in society or in literature1 they grow morbid4 ,yet1 although it is useless to attempt to elevate any human being above his own intellectual level unless he gradually climbs himself as a man ascends a mountain1 there are nevertheless certain charities or condescendences of the highly cultivated which may be good for the lower intelligences that surround them1 as the streams from the ,alpine snows are good for the irrigation of the valleys1 though the meadows which they water must forever remain eight or ten thousand feet below them4 ,and ,i believe that it would greatly add to the happiness of the intellectual portion of mankind if they could more systematically exercise these charities4 ,it is quite clear that we can never effect by chance conversation that total change in the mental state which is gradually brought about by the slow processes of education2 we cannot give to an intellect that has never been developed1 and which has fixed itself in the undeveloped state1 that power and activity which come only after years of labor2 but we may be able on many occasions to offer the sort of help which a gentleman offers to an old woman when he invites her to get up into the rumble behind his carriage4 ,i knew an intellectual lady who lived habitually in the country1 and ,i may say without fanciful exaggeration that the farmers' wives round about her were considerably superior to what in all probability they would have been without the advantage of her kindly and instructive conversation4 ,she possessed the happy art of conveying the sort of knowledge which could be readily received by her hearers1 and in a manner which made it agreeable to them1 so that they drew ideas from her quite naturally1 and her mind irrigated their minds1 which would have remained permanently barren without that help and refreshment4 ,it would be foolish to exaggerate the benefits of such intellectual charity as this1 but it is well1 on the other hand1 not to undervalue it4 ,such an influence can never convey much solid instruction1 but it may convey some of its results4 ,it may produce a more thoughtful and reasonable condition of mind1 it may preserve the ignorant from some of those preposterous theories and beliefs which so easily gain currency amongst them4 ,indirectly1 it may have rather an important political influence1 by disposing people to vote for the better sort of candidate4 ,and the influence of such intellectual charity on the material well being of the humbler classes1 on their health and wealth1 may be quite as considerable as that of the other and more common sort of charity which passes silver from hand to hand4 ,shortly after the termination of the great ,franco-,german conflict1 ,m4 ,taine suggested in the ,temps that subscribers to the better sort of journals might do a good deal for the enlightenment of the humbler classes by merely lending their newspapers in their neighborhood4 ,this was a good suggestion3 the best newspapers are an important intellectual propaganda2 they awaken an interest in the most various subjects1 and supply not only information but a stimulus4 ,the danger to persons of higher culture that the newspaper may absorb time which would else be devoted to more systematic study1 does not exist in the classes for whose benefit ,m4 ,taine made his recommendation4 ,the newspaper is their only secular reading1 and without it they have no modern literature of any kind4 ,in addition to the praiseworthy habit of lending good newspapers1 an intellectual man who lives in the country might adopt the practice of conversing with his neighbors about everything in which they could be induced to take an interest1 giving them some notion of what goes on in the classes which are intellectually active1 some idea of such discoveries and projects as an untutored mind may partially understand4 ,for example1 there is the great tunnel under the ,mont ,cenis1 and there is the projected tunnel beneath the ,channel1 and there is the cutting of the ,isthmus of ,suez4 ,a peasant can comprehend the greatness of these remarkable conceptions when they are properly explained to him1 and he will often feel a lively gratitude for information of that kind4 ,we ought to remember what a slow and painful operation reading is to the uneducated4 ,merely to read the native tongue is to them a labor so irksome that they are apt to lose the sense of a paragraph in seeking for that of a sentence or an expression4 ,as they would rather speak than have to write1 so they prefer hearing to reading1 and they get much more good from it1 because they can ask a question when the matter has not been made clear to them4 ,one of the best ways of interesting and instructing your intellectual inferiors is to give them an account of your travels4 ,all people like to hear a traveller tell his own tale1 and whilst he is telling it he may slip in a good deal of information about many things1 and much sound doctrine4 ,accounts of foreign countries1 even when you have not seen them personally1 nearly always awaken a lively interest1 especially if you are able to give your hearers detailed descriptions of the life led by foreigners who occupy positions corresponding to their own4 ,peasants can be made to take an interest in astronomy even1 though you cannot tell them anything about the peasants in ,jupiter and ,mars1 and there is always1 at starting1 the great difficulty of persuading them to trust science about the motion and rotundity of the earth4 ,a very direct form of intellectual charity is that of gratuitous teaching1 both in classes and by public lectures1 open to all comers4 ,a great deal of light has in this way been spread abroad in cities1 but in country villages there is little encouragement to enterprises of this kind1 the intelligence of farm laborers being less awakened than that of the corresponding urban population4 ,let us remember1 however1 that one of the very highest and last achievements of the cultivated intellect is the art of conveying to the uncultivated1 the untaught1 the unprepared1 the best and noblest knowledge which they are capable of assimilating4 ,no one who1 like the writer of these pages1 has lived much in the country1 and much amongst a densely ignorant peasantry1 will be likely in any plans of enlightenment to err far on the side of enthusiastic hopefulness4 ,the mind of a farm laborer1 or that of a small farmer1 is almost always sure to be a remarkably stiff soil1 in which few intellectual conceptions can take root2 yet these few may make the difference between an existence worthy of a man1 and one that differs from the existence of a brute in little beyond the possession of articulate language4 ,we to whom the rich inheritance of intellectual humanity is so familiar as to have lost much of its freshness1 are liable to underrate the value of thoughts and discoveries which to us have for years seemed commonplace4 ,it is with our intellectual as with our material wealth2 we do not realize how precious some fragments of it might be to our poorer neighbors4 ,the old clothes that we wear no longer may give comfort and confidence to a man in naked destitution2 the truths which are so familiar to us that we never think about them1 may raise the utterly ignorant to a sense of their human brotherhood4 ,above all1 in the exercise of our intellectual charities1 let us accustom ourselves to feel satisfied with humble results and small successes2 and here let me make a confession which may be of some possible use to others4 ,when a young man1 ,i taught a drawing-class gratuitously1 beginning with thirty-six pupils1 who dwindled gradually to eleven4 ,soon afterwards ,i gave up the work from dissatisfaction1 on account of the meagre attendance4 ,this was very wrong--the eleven were worth the thirty-six2 and so long as one of the eleven remained ,i ought to have contentedly taught him4 ,the success of a teacher is not to be measured by the numbers whom he immediately influences4 ,it is enough1 it has been proved to be enough in more than one remarkable instance1 that a single living soul should be in unison with the soul of a master1 and receive his thought by sympathy4 ,the one disciple teaches in his turn1 and the idea is propagated4 ,,letter ,,iv4 ,,to ,,the ,,friend ,,of ,a ,,man ,,of ,,high ,,culture ,,who ,,produced ,,nothing4 ,joubert--,not yet time1 or else ,the time is past--,his weakness for production--,three classes of minds--,a more perfect intellectual life attainable by the silent student than by authors--,he may follow his own genius--,saving of time effected by abstinence from writing--,the unproductive may be more influential than the prolific4 ,when ,i met ,b4 at your house last week1 you whispered to me in the drawing-room that he was a man of the most remarkable attainments1 who1 to the great regret of all his friends1 had never employed his abilities to any visible purpose4 ,we had not time for a conversation on this subject1 because ,b4 himself immediately joined us4 ,his talk reminded me very much of ,joubert--not that ,i ever knew ,joubert personally1 though ,i have lived very near to ,villeneuve-sur-,yonne1 where ,joubert lived2 but he is one of those characters whom it is possible to know without having seen them in the flesh4 ,his friends used to urge him to write something1 and then he said1 ,pas encore4 ,not yet2 ,i need a long peace4 ,tranquillity came1 and then he said that ,god had only given force to his mind for a limited time1 and that the time was past4 ,therefore1 as ,sainte-,beuve observed1 for ,joubert there was no medium2 either it was not yet time1 or else the time was past4 ,nothing is more common than for other people to say this of us4 ,they often say ,he is too young1 as ,napoleon said of ,ingres1 or else ,he is too old1 as ,napoleon said of ,greuze4 ,it is more rare for a man himself to shrink from every enterprise1 first under the persuasion that he is unprepared1 and afterwards because the time is no longer opportune4 ,yet there does exist a certain very peculiar class of highly-gifted1 diffident1 delicate1 unproductive minds1 which impress those around them with an almost superstitious belief in their possibilities1 yet never do anything to justify that belief4 ,but may it not be doubted whether these minds have productive power of any kind8 ,i believe that the full extent of ,joubert's productive power is displayed in those sentences of his which have been preserved1 and which reveal a genius of the rarest delicacy1 but at the same time singularly incapable of sustained intellectual effort4 ,he said that he could only compose slowly1 and with an extreme fatigue4 ,he believed1 however1 that the weakness lay in the instrument alone1 in the composing faculties1 and not in the faculties of thought1 for he said that behind his weakness there was strength1 as behind the strength of some others there was weakness4 ,in saying this1 it is probable that ,joubert did not overestimate himself4 ,he had strength of a certain kind1 or rather he had quality2 he had distinction1 which is a sort of strength in society and in literature4 ,but he had no productive force1 and ,i do not believe that his unproductiveness was a productiveness checked by a fastidious taste2 ,i believe that it was real1 that he was not organized for production4 ,sainte-,beuve said that a modern philosopher was accustomed to distinguish three classes of minds-- #a4 ,those who are at once powerful and delicate1 who excel as they propose1 execute what they conceive1 and reach the great and true beautiful--a rare lite amongst mortals4 #b4 ,a class of minds especially characterized by their delicacy1 who feel that their idea is superior to their execution1 their intelligence greater than their talent1 even when the talent is very real2 they are easily dissatisfied with themselves1 disdain easily won praises1 and would rather judge1 taste1 and abstain from producing1 than remain below their conception and themselves4 ,or if they write it is by fragments1 for themselves only1 at long intervals and at rare moments4 ,their fecundity is internal1 and known to few4 #c4 ,lastly1 there is a third class of minds more powerful and less delicate or difficult to please1 who go on producing and publishing themselves without being too much dissatisfied with their work4 ,the majority of our active painters and writers1 who fill modern exhibitions1 and produce the current literature of the day1 belong to the last class1 to which we are all greatly indebted for the daily bread of literature and art4 ,but ,sainte-,beuve believed that ,joubert belonged to the second class1 and ,i suspect that both ,sainte-,beuve and many others have credited that class with a potential productiveness beyond its real endowments4 ,minds of the ,joubert class are admirable and valuable in their way1 but they are really1 and not apparently1 sterile4 ,and why would we have it otherwise8 ,when we lament that a man of culture has done nothing1 as we say1 we mean that he has not written books4 ,is it necessary1 is it desirable1 that every cultivated person should write books8 ,on the contrary1 it seems that a more perfect intellectual life may be attained by the silent student than by authors4 ,the writer for the public is often so far its slave that he is compelled by necessity or induced by the desire for success 7since it is humiliating to write unsaleable books as well as unprofitable7 to deviate from his true path1 to leave the subjects that most interest him for other subjects which interest him less1 and therefore to acquire knowledge rather as a matter of business than as a labor of love4 ,but the student who never publishes1 and does not intend to publish1 may follow his own genius and take the knowledge which belongs to him by natural affinity4 ,add to this the immense saving of time effected by abstinence from writing4 ,whilst the writer is polishing his periods1 and giving hours to the artistic exigencies of mere form1 the reader is adding to his knowledge4 ,thackeray said that writers were not great readers1 because they had not the time4 ,the most studious ,frenchman ,i ever met with used to say that he so hated the pen as scarcely to resolve to write a letter4 ,he reminded me of ,joubert in this2 he often said1 ,j'ai horreur de la plume4 ,since he had no profession his leisure was unlimited1 and he employed it in educating himself without any other purpose than this1 the highest purpose of all1 to become a cultivated man4 ,the very prevalent idea that lives of this kind are failures unless they leave some visible achievement as a testimony and justification of their labors1 is based upon a narrow conception both of duty and of utility4 ,men of this unproductive class are sure to influence their immediate neighborhood by the example of their life4 ,isolated as they are too frequently in the provinces1 in the midst of populations destitute of the higher culture1 they often establish the notion of it notwithstanding the contemptuous estimates of the practical people around them4 ,a single intellectual life1 thus modestly lived through in the obscurity of a country-town1 may leave a tradition and become an enduring influence4 ,in this1 as in all things1 let us trust the arrangements of ,nature4 ,if men are at the same time constitutionally studious and constitutionally unproductive1 in must be that production is not the only use of study4 ,joubert was right in keeping silence when he felt no impulses to speak1 right also in saying the little that he did say without a superfluous word4 ,his mind is more fully known1 and more influential1 than many which are abundantly productive4 ,,letter ,v4 ,,to ,a ,,student ,,who ,,felt ,,hurried ,,and ,,driven4 ,some intellectual products possible only in excitement--,byron's authority on the subject--,can inventive minds work regularly8--,sir ,walter ,scott's opinion--,napoleon on the winning of victories--,the prosaic business of men of genius--,waiting for inspiration--,rembrandt's advice to a young painter--,culture necessary to inspiration itself--,byron1 ,keats1 ,morris--,men of genius may be regular as students4 ,in my last letter to you on quiet regularity of work1 ,i did not give much consideration to another matter which1 in certain kinds of work1 has to be taken into account1 for ,i preferred to make that the subject of a separate letter4 ,there are certain intellectual products which are only possible in hours or minutes of great cerebral excitement4 ,byron said that when people were surprised to find poets very much like others in the ordinary intercourse of life1 their surprise was due to ignorance of this4 ,if people knew1 ,byron said1 that poetical production came from an excitement which from its intensity could only be temporary1 they would not expect poets to be very different from other people when not under the influence of this excitement4 ,now1 we may take the word poet1 in this connection1 in the very largest sense4 ,all men who have the gift of invention are poets4 ,the inventive ideas come to them at unforeseen moments1 and have to be seized when they come1 so that the true inventor works sometimes with vertiginous rapidity1 and afterwards remains for days or weeks without exercising the inventive faculty at all4 ,the question is1 can you make an inventive mind work on the principle of measured and regular advance4 ,is such counsel as that in my former letter applicable to inventors8 ,scott said1 that although he had known many men of ordinary abilities who were capable of perfect regularity in their habits1 he had never known a man of genius who was so4 ,the popular impression concerning men of genius is very strong in the same sense1 but it is well not to attach too much importance to popular impressions concerning men of genius1 for the obvious reason that such men come very little under popular observation4 ,when they work it is usually in the most perfect solitude1 and even people who live in the same house know very little1 really1 of their intellectual habits4 ,the truth seems to be1 first1 that the moments of high excitement1 of noblest invention1 are rare1 and not to be commanded by the will2 but1 on the other hand1 that in order to make the gift of invention produce its full effect in any department of human effort1 vast labors of preparation are necessary1 and these labors may be pursued as steadily as you like ,napoleon ,i4 used to say that battles were won by the sudden flashing of an idea through the brain of the commander at a certain critical instant4 ,the capacity for generating this sudden electric spark was military genius4 ,the spark flashed independently of the will2 the ,general could not win that vivid illumination by labor or by prayer2 it came only in the brain of genius from the intense anxiety and excitement of the actual conflict4 ,napoleon seems always to have counted upon it1 always to have believed that when the critical instant arrived the wild confusion of the battle-field would be illuminated for him by that burst of sudden flame4 ,but if ,napoleon had been ignorant of the prosaic business of his profession1 to which he attended more closely than any other commander1 what would these moments of supreme clearness have availed him1 or would they ever have come to him at all8 ,if they had come to him1 they would have revealed only the extent of his own negligence4 ,instead of showing him what to do1 they would have made painfully evident what ought to have been done4 ,but it is more probable that these clear moments would never have occurred to a mind unprepared by study4 ,clear military inspirations never occur to shopkeepers and farmers1 as bright ideas about checkmates occur only to persons who have studied chess4 ,the prosaic business1 then1 of the man of genius is to accumulate that preparatory knowledge without which his genius can never be available1 and he can do work of this kind as regularly as he likes4 ,the one fatal mistake which is committed habitually by people who have the scarcely desirable gift of half-genius is waiting for inspiration4 ,they pass week after week in a state of indolence1 unprofitable alike to the mind and the purse1 under pretext of waiting for intellectual flashes like those which came to ,napoleon on his battle-fields4 ,they ought to remember the advice given by one of the greatest artists of the seventeenth century to a young painter of his acquaintance4 ,practise assiduously what you already know1 and in course of time other things will become clear to you4 ,the inspirations come only to the disciplined2 the indolent wait for them in vain4 ,if you have genius1 therefore1 or believe you have1 it is admitted that you cannot be perpetually in a state of intense excitement4 ,if you were in that state without ceasing1 you would go mad4 ,you cannot be expected to write poetry in the plodding ox-pace manner advocated for intellectual work generally in my last letter4 ,as for that good old comparison between the hare and the tortoise1 it may be answered for you1 simply1 that you are not a tortoise1 and that what is a most wise procedure for tortoises may be impracticable for you4 ,the actual composition of poetry1 especially poetry of a fiery kind1 like-- ,the isles of ,greece1 the isles of ,greece1 of ,byron1 is to be done not when the poet will1 but when he can1 or rather1 when he must4 ,but if you are a wise genius you will feel how necessary is culture even for work of that kind4 ,byron would not have felt any enthusiasm for the isles of ,greece if he had not known something of their history4 ,the verses are an inspiration1 but they could never have occurred to a quite uncultivated person1 however bright his inspirations4 ,even more obviously was the genius of ,keats dependent upon his culture4 ,he did not read ,greek1 but from translations of ,greek literature and from the direct study of ,greek art he got the sort of material that he needed4 ,and in our own day ,morris has been evidently a very diligent student of many literatures4 ,what ,i insist upon is1 that we could not have had the real ,keats1 the real ,morris1 unless they had prepared themselves by culture4 ,we see immediately that the work they have done is their work1 specially1 that they were specially adapted for it--inspired for it1 if you will4 ,but how evident it is that the inspiration could never have produced the work1 or anything like it1 without labor in the accumulation of material6 ,now1 although men of genius cannot be regularly progressive in actual production1 cannot write so many verses a day1 regularly1 as you may spin yarn1 they can be very regular as students1 and some of the best of them have been quite remarkable for unflinching steadiness of application in that way4 ,the great principle recommended by ,mr4 ,galton1 of not looking forward eagerly to the end of your journey1 but interesting yourself chiefly in the progress of it1 is as applicable to the studies of men of genius as to those of more ordinary persons4 ,,letter ,,vi4 ,,to ,,an ,,ardent ,,friend ,,who ,,took ,,no ,,rest4 ,on some verses of ,goethe--,man not constituted like a planet--,matthew ,arnold's poem1 ,self-dependence--,poetry and prose--,the wind more imitable than the stars--,the stone in ,glen ,croe--,rest and be thankful4 ,rambling over the wild moors1 with thoughts oftentimes as wild and dreary as those moors1 the young ,carlyle1 who had been cheered through his struggling sadness1 and strengthened for the part he was to play in life1 by the beauty and the wisdom which ,goethe had revealed to him1 suddenly conceived the idea that it would be a pleasant and a fitting thing if some of the few admirers in ,england forwarded to ,weimar a trifling token of their admiration4 ,on reaching home ,mr4 ,carlyle at once sketched the design of a seal to be engraved1 the serpent of eternity encircling a star1 with the words ohne ,hast1 ohne ,rast 7unhasting1 unresting71 in allusion to the well-known verses-- ',wie das ,gestirn1 ,ohne ,hast ,aber ohne ,rast ,drehe sich jeder ,um die eigne ,last4' 7,like a star1 unhasting1 unresting1 be each one fulfilling his ,god-given 'hest4'7#aj ,this is said so beautifully1 and seems so wise1 that it may easily settle down into the mind as a maxim and rule of life4 ,had we been told in plain prose to take no rest1 without the beautiful simile of the star1 and without the wise restriction about haste1 our common sense would have rebelled at once2 but as both beauty and wisdom exist together in the gem-like stanza1 our judgment remains silent in charmed acquiescence4 ,let us ask ourselves1 however1 about this stella example1 whether man is naturally so constituted as to be able to imitate it4 ,a planet moves without haste1 because it is incapable of excitement2 and without rest1 because it is incapable of fatigue4 ,a planet makes no effort1 and encounters no friction or resistance of any kind4 ,man is so constituted as to feel frequently the stimulus of excitement1 which immediately translates itself either into actual acceleration or into the desire for acceleration--a desire which cannot be restrained without an effort2 and whatever man undertakes to do he encounters friction and resistance1 which1 for him1 always sooner or later inevitably induce fatigue4 ,man is neither constituted like a star nor situated like a star1 and therefore it is not possible for him to exist as stars exist4 ,you will object to this criticism that it handles a delicate little poem very roughly1 and you may tell me that ,i am unfit to receive the wisdom of the poets1 which is always uttered with a touch of ,oriental exaggeration4 ,certainly ,goethe could never mean that a man should kill himself by labors literally incessant4 ,goethe's own life is the best elucidation of his true meaning4 ,the example of the star was held up to us to be followed only within the limits of our human nature1 as a ,christian points to the example of ,christ4 ,in the same spirit ,matthew ,arnold wrote his noble poem ,self-dependence1 in which he tells us to live like the stars and the sea3-- ,ah1 once more1 ,i cried1 ye stars1 ye waters1 ,on my heart your mighty charm renew2 ,still1 still let me1 as ,i gaze upon you1 ,feel my soul becoming vast like you4 ,from the intense1 clear1 star-sown vault of heaven1 ,over the lit sea's unquiet way1 ,in the rustling night-air came the answer3 ,wouldst thou be as these are8 ,live as they4 ,unaffrighted by the silence round them1 ,undistracted by the sights they see1 ,these demand not that the things without them ,yield them love1 amusement1 sympathy4 ,the true intention of poetical teachings like these is in the influence they have over the feelings4 ,if a star makes me steadier in my labor1 less of a victim to vain agitation1 in consequence of ,goethe's verses2 if the stars and the sea together renew more fully their mighty charm upon my heart because those stanzas of ,arnold have fixed themselves in my memory1 the poets have done their work4 ,but the more positive prosateur has his work to do also1 and you1 as it seems to me1 need this positive help of prose4 ,you are living a great deal too much like a star1 and not enough like a human being4 ,you do not hasten often1 but you never rest1 except when ,nature mercifully prostrates you in irresistible sleep4 ,like the stars and the sea in ,arnold's poem1 you do not ask surrounding things to yield you love1 amusement1 sympathy4 ,the stars and the sea can do without these refreshments of the brain and heart1 but you cannot4 ,rest is necessary to recruit your intellectual forces2 sympathy is necessary to prevent your whole nature from stiffening like a rotifer without moisture2 love is necessary to make life beautiful for you1 as the plumage of certain birds becomes splendid when they pair2 and without amusement you will lose the gayety which wise men try to keep as the best legacy of youth4 ,let your rest be perfect in its season1 like the rest of waters that are still4 ,if you will have a model for your living1 take neither the stars1 for they fly without ceasing1 nor the ocean that ebbs and flows1 nor the river that cannot stay1 but rather let your life be like that of the summer air1 which has times of noble energy and times of perfect peace4 ,it fills the sails of ships upon the sea1 and the miller thanks it on the breezy uplands2 it works generously for the health and wealth of all men1 yet it claims its hours of rest4 ,i have pushed the fleet1 ,i have turned the mill1 ,i have refreshed the city1 and now1 though the captain may walk impatiently on the quarter-deck1 and the miller swear1 and the city stink1 ,i will stir no more until it pleases me4 ,you have learned many things1 my friend1 but one thing you have not learned--the art of resting4 ,that stone in ,glen ,croe ought to have impressed its lesson on the mind of many a traveller1 long before ,earl ,russell gave it a newspaper celebrity4 ,have we not rested there together1 you and ,i1 a little in advance of the coach1 which the weary horses were still slowly dragging up the tedious hill8 ,and as we sat on the turf1 and looked down the misty glen1 did we not read the lesson there engraven8 ,how good and human the idea was1 the idea of setting up that graven stone in the wilderness2 how full of sympathy is that inscription for all the weakness and weariness of humanity6 ,once1 in the ardor of youth1 there shone before me a golden star in heaven1 and on the deep azure around it ,ohne ,hast1 ohne ,rast1 in letters of steady flame2 but now ,i see more frequently a plain little stone set up in the earth1 with the inscription1 ,rest1 and be thankful6 ,is not the stone just a little like a grave-stone1 my friend8 ,perhaps it is4 ,but if we take rest when we require it during life1 we shall not need the grave's rest quite so soon4 ,,letter ,,vii4 ,,to ,,an ,,ardent ,,friend ,,who ,,took ,,no ,,rest4 ,the regret for lost time often a needless one--,tillier's doctrine about flnerie--,how much is gained in idle hours--,sainte-,beuve's conviction that whatever he did he studied the infinite book of the world and of life--,harness--,free play of the mind necessary--,the freedom of a grain of desert-sand--,the freedom of the wild bee4 ,if we asked any intellectual workman what he would do if his life were to be lived over again1 ,i believe the answer1 whatever its form1 would amount ultimately to this3 ,i would economize my time better4 ,very likely if the opportunity were granted him he would do nothing of the sort2 very likely he would waste his time in ways more authorized by custom1 yet waste it just as extravagantly as he had done after his own original fashion2 but it always seems to us as if we could use the time better if we had it over again4 ,it seems to me in looking back over the last thirty years1 that the only time really wasted has been that spent in laborious obedience to some external authority4 ,it may be a dangerous doctrine which ,claude ,tillier expressed in an immortal sentence1 but dangerous or not1 it is full of intellectual truth3 ,le temps le mieux employ est celui que l'on perd4#aa ,if what we are accustomed to consider lost time could be removed1 as to its effects at least1 from the sum of our existence1 it is certain that we should suffer from a great intellectual impoverishment4 ,all the best knowledge of mankind1 to begin with1 is acquired in hours which hard-working people consider lost hours--in hours1 that is1 of pleasure and recreation4 ,deduct all that we have learnt about men in times of recreation1 in clubs and smoking-rooms1 on the hunting-field1 on the cricket-ground1 on the deck of the yacht1 on the box of the drag or the dog-cart1 would the residue be worth very much8 would it not be a mere heap of dry bones without any warm flesh to cover them8 ,even the education of most of us1 such as it is1 has been in a great measure acquired out of school1 as it were2 ,i mean outside of the acknowledged duties of our more serious existence4 ,few ,englishmen past forty have studied ,english literature either as a college exercise or a professional preparation2 they have read it privately1 as an amusement4 ,few ,englishmen past forty have studied modern languages1 or science1 or the fine arts1 from any obedience to duty1 but merely from taste and inclination4 ,and even if we studied these things formally1 as young men often do at the present day1 it is not from the formal study that we should get the perfume of the language or the art1 but from idle hours in foreign lands and galleries4 ,it is superfluous to recommend idleness to the unintellectual1 but the intellectual too often undervalue it4 ,the laborious intellect contracts a habit of strenuousness which is some times a hindrance to its best activity4 ,i have arrived1 said ,sainte-,beuve1 perhaps by way of secretly excusing my own idleness1 perhaps by a deeper feeling of the principle that all comes to the same1 at the conclusion that whatever ,i do or do not1 working in the study at continuous labor1 scattering myself in articles1 spreading myself about in society1 giving my time away to troublesome callers1 to poor people1 to rendez-vous1 in the street1 no matter to whom and to what1 ,i cease not to do one and the same thing1 to read one and the same book1 the infinite book of the world and of life1 that no one ever finishes1 in which the wisest read farthest2 ,i read it then at all the pages which present themselves1 in broken fragments1 backwards1 what matters it8 ,i never cease going on4 ,the greater the medley1 the more frequent the interruption1 the more ,i get on with this book in which one is never beyond the middle2 but the profit is to have had it open before one at all sorts of different pages4 ,a distinguished author wrote to another author less distinguished3 ,you have gone through a good deal of really vigorous study1 but have not been in harness yet4 ,by harness he meant discipline settled beforehand like military drill4 ,now1 the advantages of drill are evident and very generally recognized1 but the advantages of intellectual flnerie are not so generally recognized4 ,for the work of the intellect to be clear and healthy1 a great deal of free play of the mind is absolutely necessary4 ,harness is good for an hour or two at a time1 but the finest intellects have never lived in harness4 ,in reading any book that has much vitality you are sure to meet with many allusions and illustrations which the author hit upon1 not when he was in harness1 but out at grass4 ,harness trains us to the systematic performance of our work1 and increases our practical strength by regulated exercise1 but it does not supply everything that is necessary to the perfect development of the mind4 ,the truth is1 that we need both the discipline of harness and the abundant nourishment of the free pasture4 ,yet may not our freedom be the profitless1 choiceless1 freedom of a grain of desert-sand1 carried hither and thither by the wind1 gaining nothing and improving nothing1 so that it does not signify where it was carried yesterday or where it may fall to-morrow1 but rather the liberty of the wild bee1 whose coming and going are ordered by no master1 nor fixed by any premeditated regulation1 yet which misses no opportunity of increase1 and comes home laden in the twilight4 ,who knows where he has wandered2 who can tell over what banks and streams the hum of his wings has sounded8 ,is anything in nature freer than he is2 can anything account better for a rational use of freedom8 ,would he do his work better if tiny harness were ingeniously contrived for him8 ,where then would be the golden honey1 and where the waxen cells8 ,,letter ,,viii4 ,,to ,a ,,friend 7,,highly ,,cultivated7 ,,who ,,congratulated ,,himself ,,on ,,having ,,entirely ,,abandoned ,,the ,,habit ,,of ,,reading ,,newspapers4 ,advantages in economy of time--,much of what we read in newspapers is useless to our culture--,the too great importance which they attach to novelty--,distortion by party spirit--,an instance of false presentation--,gains to serenity by abstinence from newspapers--,newspapers keep up our daily interest in each other--,the ,french peasantry--,the newspaper-reading ,americans--,an instance of total abstinence from newspapers--,auguste ,comte--,a suggestion of ,emerson's--,the work of newspaper correspondents--,war correspondents--,mr4 ,stanley--,m4 ,erdan1 of the ,temps4 ,your abstinence from newspaper reading is not anew experiment in itself1 though it is new in reference to your particular case1 and ,i await its effects with interest4 ,i shall be curious to observe the consequences1 to an intellect constituted as yours is1 of that total cutting off from the public interests of your own century which an abstinence from newspapers implies4 ,it is clear that1 whatever the loss may be1 you have a definite gain to set against it4 ,the time which you have hitherto given to newspapers1 and which may be roughly estimated at about five hundred hours a year1 is henceforth a valuable time-income to be applied to whatever purposes your best wisdom may select4 ,when an intellectual person has contrived by the force of one simple resolution to effect so fine an economy as this1 it is natural that he should congratulate himself4 ,your feelings must be like those of an able finance minister who has found means of closing a great leak in the treasury--if any economy possible in the finances of a ,state could ever relatively equal that splendid stroke of time-thrift which your force of will has enabled you to effect4 ,in those five hundred hours1 which are now your own1 you may acquire a science or obtain a more perfect command over one of the languages which you have studied4 ,some department of your intellectual labors which has hitherto been unsatisfactory to you1 because it was too imperfectly cultivated1 may henceforth be as orderly and as fruitful as a well-kept garden4 ,you may become thoroughly conversant with the works of more than one great author whom you have neglected1 not from lack of interest1 but from want of time4 ,you may open some old chamber of the memory that has been dark and disused for many a year2 you may clear the cobwebs away1 and let the fresh light in1 and make it habitable once again4 ,against these gains1 of which some to a man of your industry are certain1 and may be counted upon1 what must be our estimate of the amount of sacrifice or loss8 ,it is clear to both of us that much of what we read in the newspapers is useless to our culture4 ,a large proportion of newspaper-writing is occupied with speculation on what is likely to happen in the course of a few months2 therefore1 by waiting until the time is past1 we know the event without having wasted time in speculations which could not effect it4 ,another rather considerable fraction of newspaper matter consists of small events which have interest for the day1 owing to their novelty1 but which will not have the slightest permanent importance4 ,the whole press of a newspaper-reading country1 like ,england or ,america1 may be actively engaged during the space of a week or a fortnight in discussing some incident which everybody will have forgotten in six months2 and besides these sensational incidents1 there are hundreds of less notorious ones1 often fictitious1 inserted simply for the temporary amusement of the reader4 ,the greatest evil of newspapers1 in their effect on the intellectual life1 is the enormous importance which they are obliged to attach to mere novelty4 ,from the intellectual point of view1 it is of no consequence whether a thought occurred twenty-two centuries ago to ,aristotle or yesterday evening to ,mr4 ,charles ,darwin1 and it is one of the distinctive marks of the truly intellectual to be able to take a hearty interest in all truth1 independently of the date of its discovery4 ,the emphasis given by newspapers to novelty exhibits things in wrong relations1 as the lantern shows you what is nearest at the cost of making the general landscape appear darker by the contrast4 ,besides this exhibition of things in wrong relations1 there is a positive distortion arising from the unscrupulousness of party1 a distortion which extends far beyond the limits of the empire4 ,an essay might be written on the distortion of ,english affairs in the ,french press1 or of ,french affairs in the ,english press1 by writers who are as strongly partisan in another country as in their own4 ,it is such a grand thing1 wrote an ,english ,paris correspondent in #ahgj1 for ,adolphus ,thiers1 son of a poor laborer of ,aix1 and in early life a simple journalist1 to be at the head of the ,government of ,france4 ,this is a fair specimen of the kind of false presentation which is so common in party journalism4 ,the newspaper from which ,i have quoted it was strongly opposed to ,thiers1 being in fact one of the principal organs of the ,english ,bonapartists4 ,it is not true that ,thiers was the son of a poor laborer of ,aix4 ,his father was a workman of ,marseilles1 his mother belonging to a family in which neither wealth nor culture had been rare1 and his mother's relatives had him educated at the ,lyce4 ,the art of the journalist in bringing together the two extremes of a career remarkable for its steady ascent had for its object to produce the idea of incongruity1 of sudden and unsuitable elevation4 ,not only ,m4 ,thiers1 however1 but every human being starts from a very small beginning1 since every man begins life as a baby4 ,it is a great rise for one baby to the ,presidency of the ,french ,republic2 it was also a great rise for other babies who have attained the premiership of ,england4 ,the question is1 not what ,thiers may have been seventy years ago1 but what he was immediately before his acceptance of the highest office of the ,state4 ,he was the most trusted and the most experienced citizen1 so that the last step in his career was as natural as the elevation of ,reynolds to the presidency of the ,academy4 ,it is difficult for any one who cares for justice to read party journals without frequent irritation1 and it does not signify which side the newspaper takes4 ,men are so unfair in controversy that we best preserve the serenity of the intellect by studiously avoiding all literature that has a controversial tone4 ,by your new rule of abstinence from newspapers you will no doubt gain almost as much in serenity as in time4 ,to the ordinary newspaper reader there is little loss of serenity1 because he reads only the newspaper that he agrees with1 and however unfair it is1 he is pleased by its unfairness4 ,but the highest and best culture makes us disapprove of unfairness on our own side of the question also4 ,we are pained by it2 we feel humiliated by it2 we lament its persistence and its perversity4 ,i have said nearly all that has to be said in favor of your rule of abstinence4 ,i have granted that the newspapers cost us much time1 which1 if employed for great intellectual purposes1 would carry us very far2 that they give disproportionate views of things by the emphasis they give to novelty1 and false views by the unfairness which belongs to party4 ,i might have added that newspaper writers give such a preponderance to politics--not political philosophy1 but to the everyday work of politicians--that intellectual culture is thrown into the background1 and the election of a single member of ,parliament is made to seem of greater national importance than the birth of a powerful idea4 ,and yet1 notwithstanding all these considerations1 which are serious indeed for the intellectual1 ,i believe that your resolution is unwise1 and that you will find it to be untenable4 ,one momentous reason more than counterbalances all these considerations put together4 ,newspapers are to the whole civilized world what the daily house-talk is to the members of a household2 they keep up our daily interest in each other1 they save us from the evils of isolation4 ,to live as a member of the great white race of men1 the race that has filled ,europe and ,america1 and colonized or conquered whatever other territories it has been pleased to occupy1 to share from day to day its cares1 its thoughts1 its aspirations1 it is necessary that every man should read his daily newspaper4 ,why are the ,french peasants so bewildered and at sea1 so out of place in the modern world8 ,it is because they never read a newspaper4 ,and why are the inhabitants of the ,united ,states1 though scattered over a territory fourteen times the area of ,france1 so much more capable of concerted political action1 so much more alive and modern1 so much more interested in new discoveries of all kinds and capable of selecting and utilizing the best of them8 ,it is because the newspaper penetrates everywhere2 and even the lonely dweller on the prairie or in the forest is not intellectually isolated from the great currents of public life which flow through the telegraph and the press4 ,the experiment of doing without newspapers has been tried by a whole class1 the ,french peasantry1 with the consequences that we know1 and it has also from time to time been tried by single individuals belonging to more enlightened sections of society4 ,let us take one instance1 and let us note what appear to have been the effects of this abstinence4 ,auguste ,comte abstained from newspapers as a teetotaller abstains from spirituous liquors4 ,now1 ,auguste ,comte possessed a gift of nature which1 though common in minor degrees1 is in the degree in which he possessed it rarer than enormous diamonds4 ,that gift was the power of dealing with abstract intellectual conceptions1 and living amidst them always1 as the practical mind lives in and deals with material things4 ,and it happened in ,comte's case1 as it usually does happen in cases of very peculiar endowment1 that the gift was accompanied by the instincts necessary to its perfect development and to its preservation4 ,comte instinctively avoided the conversation of ordinary people1 because he felt it to be injurious to the perfect exercise of his faculty1 and for the same reason he would not read newspapers4 ,in imposing upon himself these privations he acted like a very eminent living etcher1 who1 having the gift of an extraordinary delicacy of hand1 preserves it by abstinence from everything that may effect the steadiness of the nerves4 ,there is a certain difference1 however1 between the two cases which ,i am anxious to accentuate4 ,the etcher runs no risk of any kind by his rule of abstinence4 ,he refrains from several common indulgences1 but he denies himself nothing that is necessary to health4 ,i may even go farther1 and say that the rules which he observes for the sake of perfection in his art1 might be observed with advantage by many who are not artists1 for the sake of their own tranquillity1 without the loss of anything but pleasure4 ,the rules which ,comte made for himself involved1 on the other hand1 a great peril4 ,in detaching himself so completely from the interests and ways of thinking of ordinary men1 he elaborated1 indeed1 the conceptions of the positive philosophy1 but arrived afterwards at a peculiar kind of intellectual decadence from which it is possible--probable even--that the rough common sense of the newspapers might have preserved him4 ,they would have saved him1 ,i seriously believe1 from that mysticism which led to the invention of a religion far surpassing in unreasonableness the least rational of the creeds of tradition4 ,it is scarcely imaginable1 except on the supposition of actual insanity1 that any regular reader of the ,times1 the ,temps1 the ,daily ,news1 and the ,saturday ,review1 should believe the human race to be capable of receiving as the religion of its maturity the ,comtist ,trinity and the ,comtist ,virgin ,mother4 ,a ,trinity consisting of the ,great ,being 7or humanity71 the ,great ,fetish 7or the earth71 and the ,great ,midst 7or space72 a hope for the human race 7how unphysiological67 that women might ultimately arrive at maternity independently of virile help1--these are conceptions so remote1 not only from the habits of modern thought1 but 7what is more important7 from its tendencies1 that they could not occur to a mind in regular communication with its contemporaries4 ,if you should transfer the amount of your reading day by day from the newspaper to the standard authors8 ,to this suggestion of ,emerson's it may be answered that the loss would be greater than the gain4 ,the writers of ,queen ,anne's time could educate an ,englishman of ,queen ,anne's time1 but they can only partially educate an ,englishman of ,queen ,victoria's time4 ,the mind is like a merchant's ledger1 it requires to be continually posted up to the latest date4 ,even the last telegram may have upset some venerable theory that has been received as infallible for ages4 ,in times when great historical events are passing before our eyes1 the journalist is to future historians what the ,african traveller is to the map-makers4 ,his work is neither complete nor orderly1 but it is the fresh record of an eye-witness1 and enables us to become ourselves spectators of the mighty drama of the world4 ,never was this service so well rendered as it is now1 by correspondents who achieve heroic feats of bodily and mental prowess1 exposing themselves to the greatest dangers1 and writing much and well in circumstances the most unfavorable to literary composition4 ,how vividly the ,english war correspondents brought before us the reality of the great conflict between ,germany and ,france6 ,what a romantic achievement1 worthy to be sung in heroic verse1 was the finding of ,livingstone by ,stanley6 ,not less interesting have been the admirable series of letters by ,m4 ,erdan in the ,temps1 in which1 with the firmness of a master-hand1 he has painted from the life1 week after week1 year after year1 the decline and fall of the temporal power of the ,papacy4 ,i cannot think that any page of ,roman history is better worth reading than his letters1 more interesting1 instructive1 lively1 or authentic4 ,yet with your contempt for newspapers you would lose all this profitable entertainment1 and seek instead of it the accounts of former epochs not half so interesting as this fall of the temporal power1 accounts written in most cases by men in libraries who had not seen the sovereigns they wrote about1 nor talked with the people whose condition they attempted to describe4 ,you have a respect for these accounts because they are printed in books1 and bound in leather1 and entitled history1 whilst you despise the direct observation of a man like ,erdan1 because he is only a journalist1 and his letters are published in a newspaper4 ,is there not some touch of prejudice in this1 some mistake1 some narrowness of intellectual aristocracy8 ,,letter ,,ix4 ,,to ,,an ,,author ,,who ,,appreciated ,,contemporary ,,literature4 ,miss ,mitford on the selfishness of authors--,a suggestion of ,emerson's--,a laconic rule of his--,traces of jealousy--,and of a more subtle feeling--,a contradiction--,necessary to resist the invasion of the present--,a certain equilibrium--,the opposite of a pedant--,the best classics not pedants1 but artists4 ,reading the other day a letter by ,miss ,mitford1 ,i was reminded of you as the eye is reminded of green when it sees scarlet4 ,you1 whose interest in literature has ever kept pace with the time1 to whom no new thing is unwelcome if only it is good1 are safe from her accusations2 but how many authors have deserved them6 ,miss ,mitford is speaking of a certain writer who is at the same time a clergyman1 and whom it is not difficult to recognize4 ,i never1 she says1 saw him interested in the slightest degree by the work of any other author1 except1 indeed1 one of his own followers or of his own clique1 and then only as admiring or helping him4 ,he has great kindness and great sympathy with working people1 or with a dying friend1 but ,i profess to you ,i am amazed at the utter selfishness of authors4 ,i do not know one single poet who cares for any man's poetry but his own4 ,in general they read no books except such as may be necessary to their own writings--that is to the work they happen to be about1 and even then ,i suspect that they only read the bits that they may immediately want4 ,you know the absolute ignorance in which ,wordsworth lived of all modern works2 and if1 out of compliment to a visitor1 he thought it needful to seem to read or listen to two or three stanzas1 he gave unhesitating praise to the writer himself1 but took especial care not to repeat the praise where it might have done him good--utterly fair and false4 ,there are touches of this spirit of indifference to contemporary literature in several writers and scholars whom we know4 ,there are distinct traces of it even in published writings1 though it is much more evident in private life and habit4 ,emerson seriously suggests that the human mind would perhaps be a gainer if all the secondary writers were lost--say1 in ,england1 all but ,shakespeare1 ,milton1 and ,bacon1 through the profounder study so drawn to those wonderful minds4 ,in the same spirit we have ,emerson's laconic rule1 ,never read any but famed books1 which suggests the remark that if men had obeyed this rule from the beginning1 no book could ever have acquired reputation1 and nobody would ever have read anything4 ,the idea of limiting ,english literature to a holy trinity of ,shakespeare1 ,milton1 and ,bacon1 and voluntarily losing all other authors1 seems to me the most intense expression of the spirit of aristocracy in reading4 ,it is as if a man were to decide in his own mind that society would be the better if all persons except the three ,emperors were excluded from it4 ,there is a want of reliance upon one's own judgment1 and an excess of faith in the estimates of others1 when we resolve to read only those books which come to us in the splendor of a recognized intellectual royalty4 ,we read either to gain information1 to have good thinking suggested to us1 or to have our imagination stimulated4 ,in the way of knowledge the best authors are always the most recent1 so that ,bacon could not suffice4 ,in the way of thinking1 our methods have gained in precision since ,milton's time1 and we are helped by a larger experience than his4 ,the one thing which ,shakespeare and ,milton can do for us quite perfectly still1 is to fill our imagination richly1 and give it a fine stimulus4 ,but modern writers can render us the same service4 ,is there not a little jealousy of contemporaries in the persistence with which some authors avoid them1 and even engage others to avoid them8 ,may not there be a shade of another feeling than jealousy1 a feeling more subtle in operation1 the undefined apprehension that we may find1 even amongst our more obscure contemporaries1 merit equal to our own8 ,so long as we restrict our reading to old books of great fame we are safe from this apprehension1 for if we find admirable qualities1 we know beforehand that the world has handsomely acknowledged them1 and we indulge in the hope that our own admirable qualities will be recognized by posterity with equal liberality4 ,but it creates an unpleasant feeling of uneasiness to see quantities of obscure contemporary work1 done in a plain way to earn a living by men of third or fourth-rate reputation1 or of no reputation at all1 which in many respects would fairly sustain a comparison with our own4 ,it is clear that an author ought to be the last person to advise the public not to read contemporary literature1 since he is himself a maker of contemporary literature2 and there is a direct contradiction between the invitation to read his book1 which he circulates by the act of publishing1 and the advice which the book contains4 ,emerson is more safe from this obvious rejoinder when he suggests to us to transfer our reading day by day from the newspaper to the standard authors4 ,but are these suggestions anything more than the reaction of an intellectual man against the too prevalent customs of the world8 ,the reading practised by most people1 by all who do not set before themselves intellectual culture as one of the definite aims of life1 is remarkable for the regularity with which it neglects all the great authors of the past4 ,the books provided by the circulating library1 the reviews and magazines1 the daily newspapers1 are read whilst they are novelties1 but the standard authors are left on their shelves unopened4 ,we require a firm resolution to resist this invasion of what is new1 because it flows like an unceasing river1 and unless we protect our time against it by some solid embankment of unshakable rule and resolution1 every nook and cranny of it will be filled and flooded4 ,an ,englishman whose life was devoted to culture1 but who lived in an out-of-the-way place on the ,continent1 told me that he considered it a decided advantage to his mind to live quite outside of the ,english library system1 because if he wanted to read a new book he had to buy it and pay heavily for carriage besides1 which made him very careful in his choice4 ,for the same reason he rejoiced that the nearest ,english news-room was two hundred miles from his residence4 ,but1 on the other hand1 what would be the condition of a man's mind who never read anything but the classic authors8 ,he would live in an intellectual monastery1 and would not even understand the classic authors themselves1 for we understand the past only by referring it to what we know in the present4 ,it is best to preserve our minds in a state of equilibrium1 and not to allow our repugnance to what we see as an evil to drive us into an evil of an opposite kind4 ,we are too often like those little toy-fish with a bit of steel in their mouths1 which children attract with a magnet4 ,if you present the positive pole of the magnet1 the fish rushes at it at once1 but if you offer the negative end it retreats continually4 ,everything relatively to our character has this positive or negative end1 and we either rush to things or rush away from them4 ,some persons are actually driven away from the most entertaining writers because they happen to be what are called classics1 because pedants boast of having read them4 ,i know a man who is exactly the opposite of a pedant1 who has a horror of the charlatanism which claims social and intellectual position as the reward for having laboriously waded through those authors who are conventionally termed classical1 and this opposition to pedantry has given him an aversion to the classics themselves1 which he never opens4 ,the shallow pretence to admiration of famous writers which is current in the world is so distasteful to the love of honesty and reality which is the basis of his character1 that by an unhappy association of ideas he has acquired a repugnance to the writers themselves4 ,but such men as ,horace1 ,terence1 ,shakespeare1 ,molire1 though they have had the misfortune to be praised and commentated upon by pedants1 were in their lives the precise opposite of pedants2 they were artists whose study was human nature1 and who lived without pretension in the common world of men4 ,the pedants have a habit of considering these genial old artists as in some mysterious way their own private property1 for do not the pedants live by expounding them8 ,and some of us are frightened away from the fairest realms of poetry by the fences of these grim guardians4 ,,letter ,x4 ,,to ,,an ,,author ,,who ,,kept ,,very ,,irregular ,,hours4 ,julian ,fane--,his late hours--,regularity produced by habit--,the time of the principal effort--,that the chief work should be done in the best hours--,physicians prefer early to late work--,the practice of ,goethe and some modern authors--,the morning worker ought to live in a tranquil neighborhood--,night-work--,the medical objection to it--,the student's objection to day-work--,time to be kept in masses by adults1 but divided into small portions by children--,rapid turning of the mind--,cuvier eminent for this faculty--,the ,duke of ,wellington--,the faculty more available with some occupations than others--,the slavery of a minute obedience to the clock--,broad rules the best--,books of agenda1 good in business1 but not in the higher intellectual pursuits4 ,what you told me of your habits in the employment of your hours reminded me of ,julian ,fane4 ,mr4 ,lytton tells us that after a long day of professional business1 followed by a late evening of social amusement1 he would return in the small hours of the night to his books1 and sit1 unwearied1 till sunrise in the study of them4 ,nor did he then seem to suffer from this habit of late hours4 ,his nightly vigils occasioned no appearance of fatigue the next day4444 ,he rarely rose before noon1 and generally rose much later4 ,but however irregular a man's distribution of his time may be in the sense of wanting the government of fixed rules1 there always comes in time a certain regularity by the mere operation of habit4 ,people who get up very late hardly ever do so in obedience to a rule2 many get up early by rule1 and many more are told that they ought to get up early1 and believe it1 and aspire to that virtue1 but fail to carry it into practice4 ,the late-risers are rebels and sinners--in this respect--to a man1 and so persistently have the wise1 from ,solomon downwards1 harped upon the moral loveliness of early rising and the degradation which follows the opposite practice1 that one can hardly get up after eight without either an uncomfortable sense of guilt or an extraordinary callousness4 ,yet the late-risers1 though obeying no rule1 for the abandoned sinner recognizes none1 become regular in their late rising from the gradual fixing power of habit4 ,even ,julian ,fane1 though he regretted his desultory ways1 and dwelt with great earnestness on the importance of regular habits of work1 was perhaps less irregular than he himself believed4 ,we are sure to acquire habits2 what is important is not so much that the habits should be regular1 as that their regularity should be of the kind most favorable in the long run to the accomplishment of our designs1 and this never comes by chance1 it is the result of an effort of the will in obedience to governing wisdom4 ,the first question which every one who has the choice of his hours must settle for himself is at what time of day he will make his principal effort2 for the day of every intellectual workman ought to be marked by a kind of artistic composition2 there ought to be some one labor distinctly recognized as dominant1 with others in subordination1 and subordination of various degrees4 ,now for the hours at which the principal effort ought to be made1 it is not possible to fix them by the clock so as to be suitable for everybody1 but a broad rule may be arrived at which is applicable to all imaginable cases4 ,the rule is this--to do the chief work in the best hours2 to give it the pick of your day2 and by day ,i do not mean only the solar day1 but the whole of the twenty-four hours4 ,there is an important physiological reason for giving the best hours to the most important work4 ,the better the condition of the brain and the body1 and the more favorable the surrounding circumstances1 the smaller will be the cost to the organization of the labor that has to be done4 ,it is always the safest way to do the heaviest 7or most important7 work at the time and under the conditions which make it the least costly4 ,physicians are unanimous in their preference of early to late work2 and no doubt1 if the question were not complicated by other considerations1 we could not do better than to follow their advice in its simplicity4 ,goethe wrote in the morning1 with his faculties refreshed by sleep and not yet excited by any stimulant4 ,i could mention several living authors of eminence who pursue the same plan1 and find it favorable alike to health and to production4 ,the rule which they follow is never to write after lunch1 leaving the rest of their time free for study and society1 both of which are absolutely necessary to authors4 ,according to this system it is presumed that the hours between breakfast and lunch are the best hours4 ,in many cases they are so4 ,a person in fair health1 after taking a light early breakfast without any heavier stimulant than tea or coffee1 finds himself in a state of freshness highly favorable to sound and agreeable thinking4 ,his brain will be in still finer order if the breakfast has been preceded by a cold bath1 with friction and a little exercise4 ,the feeling of freshness1 cleanliness1 and moderate exhilaration1 will last for several hours1 and during those hours the intellectual work will probably be both lively and reasonable4 ,it is difficult for a man who feels cheerful and refreshed1 and whose task seems easy and light1 to write anything morbid or perverse4 ,but for the morning to be so good as ,i have just described it1 the workman must be quite favorably situated4 ,he ought to live in a very tranquil neighborhood1 and to be as free as possible from anxiety as to what the postman may have in reserve for him4 ,if his study-window looks out on a noisy street1 and if the day is sure1 as it wears on1 to bring anxious business of its own1 then the increasing noise and the apprehension 7even though it be almost entirely unconscious7 of impending business1 will be quite sufficient to interfere with the work of any man who is the least in the world nervous1 and almost all intellectual laborers are nervous1 more or less4 ,men who have the inestimable advantage of absolute tranquillity1 at all times1 do well to work in the morning1 but those who can only get tranquillity at times independent of their own choice have a strong reason for working at those times1 whether they happen to be in the morning or not4 ,in an excellent article on ,work 7evidently written by an experienced intellectual workman71 which appeared in one of the early numbers of the ,cornhill ,magazine1 and was remarkable alike for practical wisdom and the entire absence of traditional dogmatism1 the writer speaks frankly in favor of night-work1 ,if you can work at all at night1 one hour at that time is worth any two in the morning4 ,the house is hushed1 the brain is clear1 the distracting influences of the day are at an end4 ,you have not to disturb yourself with thoughts of what you are about to do1 or what you are about to suffer4 ,you know that there is a gulf between you and the affairs of the outside world1 almost like the chasm of death2 and that you need not take thought of the morrow until the morrow has come4 ,there are few really great thoughts1 such as the world will not willingly let die1 that have not been conceived under the quiet stars4 ,the medical objection to night-work in the case of literary men would probably be that the night is too favorable to literary production4 ,the author of the ,essay just quoted says that at night you only drift into deeper silence and quicker inspiration4 ,if the right mood is upon you1 you write on2 if not1 your pillow awaits you4 ,exactly so2 that is to say1 the brain1 owing to the complete external tranquillity1 can so concentrate its efforts on the subject in hand as to work itself up into a luminous condition which is fed by the most rapid destruction of the nervous substance that ever takes place within the walls of a human skull4 ,if the right mood is upon you1 you write on2 in other words1 if you have once well lighted your spirit-lamp1 it will go on burning so long as any spirit is left in it1 for the air is so tranquil that nothing comes to blow it out4 ,you drift into deeper silence and quicker inspiration4 ,it is just this quicker inspiration that the physician dreads4 ,against this objection may be placed the equally serious objection to day-work1 that every interruption1 when you are particularly anxious not to be interrupted1 causes a definite loss and injury to the nervous system4 ,the choice must therefore be made between two dangers1 and if they are equally balanced there can be no hesitation1 because all the literary interests of an author are on the side of the most tranquil time4 ,literary work is always sure to be much better done when there is no fear of disturbance than under the apprehension of it2 and precisely the same amount of cerebral effort will produce1 when the work is uninterrupted1 not only better writing1 but a much greater quantity of writing4 ,the knowledge that he is working well and productively is an element of health to every workman because it encourages cheerful habits of mind4 ,in the division of time it is an excellent rule for adults to keep it as much as possible in large masses1 not giving a quarter of an hour to one occupation and a quarter to another1 but giving three1 four1 or five hours to one thing at a time4 ,in the case of children an opposite practice should be followed2 they are able to change their attention from one subject to another much more easily than we can1 whilst at the same time they cannot fix their minds for very long without cerebral fatigue leading to temporary incapacity4 ,the custom prevalent in schools1 of making the boys learn several different things in the course of the day1 is therefore founded upon the necessities of the boy-nature1 though most grown men would find that changes so frequent would1 for them1 have all the inconveniences of interruption4 ,to boys they come as relief1 to men as interruption4 ,the reason is that the physical condition of the brain is different in the two cases2 but in our loose way of talking about these things we may say that the boy's ideas are superficial1 like the plates and dishes on the surface of a dinner-table1 which may be rapidly changed without inconvenience1 whereas the man's ideas1 having all struck root down to the very depths of his nature1 are more like the plants in a garden1 which cannot be removed without a temporary loss both of vigor and of beauty1 and the loss cannot be instantaneously repaired4 ,for a man to do his work thoroughly well1 it is necessary that he should dwell in it long enough at a time to get all the powers of his mind fully under command with reference to the particular work in hand1 and he cannot do this without tuning his whole mind to the given diapason1 as a tuner tunes a piano4 ,some men can tune their minds more rapidly1 as violins are tuned1 and this faculty may to a certain extent be acquired by efforts of the will very frequently repeated4 ,cuvier had this faculty in the most eminent degree4 ,one of his biographers says3 ,his extreme facility for study1 and of directing all the powers of his mind to diverse occupations of study1 from one quarter of an hour to another1 was one of the most extraordinary qualities of his mind4 ,the ,duke of ,wellington also cultivated the habit 7inestimably valuable to a public man7 of directing the whole of his attention to the subject under consideration1 however frequently that subject might happen to be changed4 ,but although men of exceptional power and very exceptional flexibility may do this with apparent impunity1 that still depends very much on the nature of the occupation4 ,there are some occupations which are not incompatible with a fragmentary division of time1 because these occupations are themselves fragmentary4 ,for example1 you may study languages in phrase-books during very small spaces of time1 because the complete phrase is in itself a very small thing1 but you could not so easily break and resume the thread of an elaborate argument4 ,i suspect that though ,cuvier appeared to his contemporaries a man remarkably able to leave off and resume his work at will1 he must have taken care to do work that would bear interruption at those times when he knew himself to be most liable to it4 ,and although1 when a man's time is unavoidably broken up into fragments1 no talent of a merely auxiliary kind can be more precious than that of turning each of those fragments to advantage1 it is still true that he whose time is at his own disposal will do his work most calmly1 most deliberately1 and therefore on the whole most thoroughly and perfectly1 when he keeps it in fine masses4 ,the mere knowledge that you have three or four clear hours before you is in itself a great help to the spirit of thoroughness1 both in study and in production4 ,it is agreeable too1 when the sitting has come to an end1 to perceive that a definite advance is the result of it1 and advance in anything is scarcely perceptible in less than three or four hours4 ,there are several pursuits which cannot be followed in fragments of time1 on account of the necessary preparations4 ,it is useless to begin oil-painting unless you have full time to set your palette properly1 to get your canvas into a proper state for working upon1 to pose the model as you wish1 and settle down to work with everything as it ought to be4 ,in landscape-painting from nature you require the time to go to the selected place1 and after your arrival to arrange your materials and shelter yourself from the sun4 ,in scientific pursuits the preparations are usually at least equally elaborate1 and often much more so4 ,to prepare for an experiment1 or for a dissection1 takes time which we feel to be disproportionate when it leaves too little for the scientific work itself4 ,it is for this reason more frequently than for any other that amateurs who begin in enthusiasm1 so commonly1 after a while1 abandon the objects of their pursuit4 ,there is a kind of slavery to which no really intellectual man would ever voluntarily submit1 a minute obedience to the clock4 ,very conscientious people often impose upon themselves this sort of slavery4 ,a person who has hampered himself with rules of this kind will take up a certain book1 for instance1 when the clock strikes nine1 and begin at yesterday's mark1 perhaps in the middle of a paragraph4 ,then he will read with great steadiness till a quarter-past nine1 and exactly on the instant when the minute-hand gets opposite the dot1 he will shut his book1 however much the passage may happen to interest him4 ,it was in allusion to good people of this kind that ,sir ,walter ,scott said he had never known a man of genius who could be perfectly regular in his habits1 whilst he had known many blockheads who could4 ,it is easy to see that a minute obedience to the clock is unintellectual in its very nature1 for the intellect is not a piece of mechanism as a clock is1 and cannot easily be made to act like one4 ,there may be perfect correspondence between the locomotives and the clocks on a railway1 for if the clocks are pieces of mechanism the locomotives are so likewise1 but the intellect always needs a certain looseness and latitude as to time4 ,very broad rules are the best1 such as ,write in the morning1 read in the afternoon1 see friends in the evening1 or else ,study one day and produce another1 alternately1 or even ,work one week and see the world another week1 alternately4 ,there is a fretting habit1 much recommended by men of business and of great use to them1 of writing the evening before the duties of the day in a book of agenda4 ,if this is done at all by intellectual men with reference to their pursuits1 it ought to be done in a very broad1 loose way1 never minutely4 ,an intellectual worker ought never to make it a matter of conscience 7in intellectual labor7 to do a predetermined quantity of little things4 ,this sort of conscientiousness frets and worries1 and is the enemy of all serenity of thought4 ,,footnotes3 #aj ,lewes's ,life of ,goethe1 ,book vii4 chap4 #h4 #aa ,the best employed time is that which one loses4 ,,part ,,xi4 ,,trades ,,and ,,professions4 ,,letter ,i4 ,,to ,a ,,young ,,gentleman ,,of ,,ability ,,and ,,culture ,,who ,,had ,,not ,,decided ,,about ,,his ,,profession4 ,the ,church--,felicities and advantages of the clerical profession--,its elevated ideal--,that it is favorable to noble studies--,french priests and ,english ,clergymen--,the professional point of view--,difficulty of disinterested thinking--,colored light--,want of strict accuracy--,quotation from a sermon--,the drawback to the clerical life--,provisional nature of intellectual conclusions--,the legal profession--,that it affords gratification to the intellectual powers--,want of intellectual disinterestedness in lawyers--,their absorption in professional life--,anecdote of a ,london lawyer--,superiority of lawyers in their sense of affairs--,medicine--,the study of it a fine preparation for the intellectual life--,social rise of medical men coincident with the mental progress of communities--,their probable future influence on education--,the heroic side of their profession--,the military and naval professions--,bad effect of the privation of solitude--,interruption--,anecdote of ,cuvier--,the fine arts--,in what way they are favorable to thought--,intellectual leisure of artists--,reasoning artists--,sciences included in the fine arts4 ,it may be taken for granted that to a mind constituted as yours is1 no profession will be satisfactory which does not afford free play to the intellectual powers4 ,you might no doubt exercise resolution enough to bind yourself down to uncongenial work for a term of years1 but it would be with the intention of retiring as soon as you had realized a competency4 ,the happiest life is that which constantly exercises and educates what is best in us4 ,you had thoughts1 at one time1 of the ,church1 and the ,church would have suited you in many respects very happily1 yet not1 ,i think1 in all respects4 ,the clerical profession has many great felicities and advantages3 it educates and develops1 by its mild but regular discipline1 much of our higher nature2 it sets before us an elevated ideal1 worth striving for at the cost of every sacrifice but one1 of which ,i intend to say something farther on2 and it offers just that mixture of public and private life which best affords the alternation of activity and rest4 ,it is an existence in many respects most favorable to the noblest studies4 ,it offers the happiest combination of duties that satisfy the conscience with leisure for the cultivation of the mind2 it gives the easiest access to all classes of society1 providing for the parson himself a neutral and independent position1 so safe that he need only conduct himself properly to preserve it4 ,how superior1 from the intellectual point of view1 is this liberal existence to the narrower one of a ,french cur de campagne6 ,i certainly think that if a good cur has an exceptional genius for sanctity1 his chances of becoming a perfect saint are better than those of a comfortable ,english incumbent1 who is at the same time a gentleman and man of the world1 but he is not nearly so well situated for leading the intellectual life4 ,our own clergy have a sort of middle position between the cur and the layman1 which without at all interfering with their spiritual vocation1 makes them better judges of the character of laymen and more completely in sympathy with it4 ,and yet1 although the life of a clergyman is favorable to culture in many ways1 it is not wholly favorable to it4 ,there exists1 in clerical thinking generally1 just one restriction or impediment1 which is the overwhelming importance of the professional point of view4 ,of all the professions the ecclesiastical one is that which most decidedly and most constantly affects the judgment of persons and opinions4 ,it is peculiarly difficult for a clergyman to attain disinterestedness in his thinking1 to accept truth just as it may happen to present itself1 without passionately desiring that one doctrine may turn out to be strong in evidence and another unsupported4 ,and so we find the clergy1 as a class1 anxious rather to discover aids to faith1 than the simple scientific truth2 and the more the special priestly character develops itself1 the more we find them disposed to use their intellects for the triumph of principles that are decided upon beforehand4 ,sometimes this disposition leads them to see the acts of laymen in a colored light and to speak of them without strict accuracy4 ,here is an example of what ,i mean4 ,a ,jesuit priest preached a sermon in ,london very recently1 in which he said that in ,germany1 ,france1 ,italy1 and ,england1 gigantic efforts were being made to rob ,christian children of the blessing of a ,christian education4 ,herod1 though dead1 the preacher continued1 has left his mantle behind him2 and ,i wish that the soldiers of ,herod in those countries would plunge their swords into the breasts of little children while they were innocent1 rather than have their souls destroyed by means of an unchristian and uncatholic education4 ,no doubt this is very earnest and sincere1 but it is not accurate and just thinking4 ,the laity in the countries the preacher mentioned have certainly a strong tendency to exclude theology from ,state schools1 because it is so difficult for a modern ,state to impose any kind of theological teaching without injustice to minorities2 but the laity do not desire to deprive children of whatever instruction may be given to them by the clergy of their respective communions4 ,may ,i add1 that to the mind of a layman it seems a sanguinary desire that all little children should have swords plunged into their breasts rather than be taught in schools not clerically directed8 ,the exact truth is1 that the powerful lay element is certainly separating itself from the ecclesiastical element all over ,europe1 because it is found by experience that the two have a great and increasing difficulty in working harmoniously together1 but the ecclesiastical element is detached and not destroyed4 ,the quotation ,i have just made is in itself a sufficient illustration of that very peculiarity in the more exalted ecclesiastical temperament1 which often makes it so difficult for priests and governments1 in these times1 to get on comfortably together4 ,here is first a very inaccurate statement1 and then an outburst of most passionate feeling1 whereas the intellect desires the strictest truth and the most complete disinterestedness4 ,as the temper of the laity becomes more and more intellectual 7and that is the direction of its movement71 the sacerdotal habit will become more and more remote from it4 ,the clerical life has many strong attractions for the intellectual1 and just one drawback to counterbalance them4 ,it offers tranquillity1 shelter from the interruptions and anxieties of the more active professions1 and powerful means of influence ready to hand2 but it is compatible with intellectual freedom and with the satisfaction of the conscience1 only just so long as the priest really remains a believer in the details of his religion4 ,now1 although we may reasonably hope to retain the chief elements of our belief1 although what a man believes at twenty-five is always what he will most probably believe at fifty1 still1 in an age when free inquiry is the common habit of cultivated people of our sex1 we may well hesitate before taking upon ourselves any formal engagement for the future1 especially in matters of detail4 ,the intellectual spirit does not regard its conclusions as being at any time final1 but always provisional2 we hold what we believe to be the truth until we can replace it by some more perfect truth1 but cannot tell how much of to-day's beliefs to-morrow will retain or reject4 ,it may be observed1 however1 that the regular performance of priestly functions is in itself a great help to permanence in belief by connecting it closely with practical habit1 so that the clergy do really and honestly often retain through life their hold on early beliefs which as laymen they might have lost4 ,the profession of the law provides ample opportunities for a critical intellect with a strong love of accuracy and a robust capacity for hard work1 besides which it is the best of worldly educations4 ,some lawyers love their work as passionately as artists do theirs1 others dislike it very heartily1 most of them seem to take it as a simple business to be done for daily bread4 ,lawyers whose heart is in their work are invariably men of superior ability1 which proves that there is something in it that affords gratification to the intellectual powers4 ,however1 in speaking of lawyers1 ,i feel ignorant and on the outside1 because their profession is one of which the interior feelings can be known to no one who has not practised4 ,one thing seems clear1 they get the habit of employing the whole strength and energy of their minds for especial and temporary ends1 the purpose being the service of the client1 certainly not the revelation of pure truth4 ,hence1 although they become very acute1 and keen judges of that side of human nature which they habitually see 7not the best side71 they are not more disinterested than clergymen4#ab ,sometimes they take up some study outside of their profession and follow it disinterestedly1 but this is rare4 ,a busy lawyer is much more likely than a clergyman to become entirely absorbed in his professional life1 because it requires so much more intellectual exertion4 ,i remember asking a very clever lawyer who lived in ,london1 whether he ever visited an exhibition of pictures1 and he answered me by the counter-inquiry whether ,i had read ,chitty on ,contracts1 ,collier on ,partnerships1 ,taylor on ,evidence1 ,cruse's ,digest1 or ,smith's ,mercantile ,law8 ,this seemed to me at the time a good instance of the way a professional habit may narrow one's views of things1 for these law-books were written for lawyers alone1 whilst the picture exhibitions were intended for the public generally4 ,my friend's answer would have been more to the point if ,i had inquired whether he had read ,linton on ,colors1 and ,burnet on ,chiaroscuro4 ,there is just one situation in which we all may feel for a short time as lawyers feel habitually4 ,suppose that two inexperienced players sit down to a game of chess1 and that each is backed by a clever person who is constantly giving him hints4 ,the two backers represent the lawyers1 and the players represent their clients4 ,there is not much disinterested thought in a situation of this kind1 but there is a strong stimulus to acuteness4 ,i think that lawyers are often superior to philosophers in their sense of what is relatively important in human affairs with reference to limited spaces of time1 such as half a century4 ,they especially know the enormous importance of custom1 which the speculative mind very readily forgets1 and they have in the highest degree that peculiar sense which fits men for dealing with others in the affairs of ordinary life4 ,in this respect they are remarkably superior to clergymen1 and superior also to artists and men of science4 ,the profession of medicine is1 of all fairly lucrative professions1 the one best suited to the development of the intellectual life4 ,having to deal continually with science1 being constantly engaged in following and observing the operation of natural laws1 it produces a sense of the working of those laws which prepares the mind for bold and original speculation1 and a reliance upon their unfailing regularity1 which gives it great firmness and assurance4 ,a medical education is the best possible preparation for philosophical pursuits1 because it gives them a solid basis in the ascertainable4 ,the estimation in which these studies are held is an accurate meter of the intellectual advancement of a community4 ,when the priest is reverenced as a being above ordinary humanity1 and the physician slightly esteemed1 the condition of society is sure to be that of comparative ignorance and barbarism2 and it is one of several signs which indicate barbarian feeling in our own aristocracy1 that it has a contempt for the study of medicine4 ,the progress of society towards enlightenment is marked by the steady social rise of the surgeon and the physician1 a rise which still continues1 even in ,western ,europe4 ,it is probable that before very long the medical profession will exercise a powerful influence upon general education1 and take an active share in it4 ,there are very strong reasons for the opinion that schoolmasters educated in medicine would be peculiarly well qualified to train both body and mind for a vigorous and active manhood4 ,an immense advantage1 even from the intellectual point of view1 in the pursuit of medicine and surgery1 is that they supply a discipline in mental heroism4 ,other professions do this also1 but not to the same degree4 ,the combination of an accurate training in positive science with the habitual contempt of danger and contemplation of suffering and death1 is the finest possible preparation for noble studies and arduous discoveries4 ,i ought to add1 however1 that medical men in the provinces1 when they have not any special enthusiasm for their work1 seem peculiarly liable to the deadening influences of routine1 and easily fall behind their age4 ,the medical periodicals provide the best remedy for this4 ,the military and naval professions are too active1 and too much bound to obedience in their activity1 for the highest intellectual pursuits2 but their greatest evil in this respect is the continual privation of solitude1 and the frequency of interruption4 ,a soldier's life in the higher ranks1 when there is great responsibility and the necessity for personal decision1 undoubtedly leads to the most brilliant employment of the mental powers1 and develops a manliness of character which is often of the greatest use in intellectual work2 so that a man of science may find his force augmented1 and better under control1 for having passed through a military experience2 but the life of barracks and camps is destructive to continuity of thinking4 ,the incompatibility becomes strikingly manifest when we reflect how impossible it would have been for ,ney or ,massena to do the work of ,cuvier or ,comte4 ,cuvier even declined to accompany the expedition to ,egypt1 notwithstanding the prospects of advantage that it offered4 ,the reason he gave for this refusal was1 that he could do more for science in the tranquillity of the ,jardin des ,plantes4 ,he was a strict economist of time1 and dreaded the loss of it involved in following an army1 even though his mission would have been purely scientific4 ,how much more would ,cuvier have dreaded the interruptions of a really military existence6 ,it is these interruptions1 and not any want of natural ability1 that are the true explanation of the intellectual poverty which characterizes the military profession4 ,of all the liberal professions it is the least studious4 ,let me say a word in conclusion about the practical pursuit of the fine arts4 ,painters are often remarkable for pleasant conversational power1 and a degree of intelligence strikingly superior to their literary culture4 ,this is because the processes of their art can be followed1 at least under certain circumstances1 by the exercise of hand and eye1 directed merely by artistic taste and experience1 whilst the intellect is left free either for reflection or conversation4 ,rubens liked to be read to when he painted2 many artists like to hear people talk1 and to take a share occasionally in the conversation4 ,the truth is that artists1 even when they work very assiduously1 do in fact enjoy great spaces of intellectual leisure1 and often profit by them4 ,painting itself is also a fine discipline for some of the best faculties of the mind1 though it is well known that the most gifted artists think least about their art4 ,still there is a large class of painters1 including many eminent ones1 who proceed intellectually in the execution of their works1 who reason them out philosophically step by step1 and exercise a continual criticism upon their manual labor as it goes forward4 ,i find1 as ,i know art and artists better1 that this class is more numerous than is commonly suspected1 and that the charming effects which we believe to be the result of pure inspiration have often been elaborately reasoned out like a problem in mathematics4 ,we are very apt to forget that art includes a great science1 the science of natural appearances1 and that the technical work of painters and engravers cannot go forward safely without the profoundest knowledge of certain delicate materials1 this being also a science1 and a difficult one4 ,the common tendency is to underrate 7from ignorance7 what is intellectual in the practice of the fine arts2 and yet the artists of past times have left evidence enough that they thought about art1 and thought deeply4 ,artists are often illiterate2 but it is possible to be at the same time illiterate and intellectual2 as we see frequent examples of book-learning in people who have scarcely a single idea of their own4 ,,letter ,,ii4 ,,to ,a ,,young ,,gentleman ,,who ,,had ,,literary ,,and ,,artistic ,,tastes1 ,,but ,,no ,,profession4 ,the world only recognizes performance--,uselessness of botch-work--,vastness of the interval between botch-work and handicraft--,delusions of the well-to-do--,quotation from ,charles ,lever--,indifference1 and even contempt1 for skill--,moral contempt for skill--,the contempt which comes from the pride of knowledge--,intellectual value of skill and of professional discipline4 ,it is not a graceful thing for me to say1 nor pleasant for you to hear1 that what you have done hitherto in art and literature is neither of any value in itself nor likely to lead you to that which is truly and permanently satisfying4 ,i believe you have natural ability1 though it would not be easy for any critic to measure its degree when it has never been developed by properly-directed work4 ,most critics would probably err on the unfavorable side1 for we are easily blind to powers that are little more than latent4 ,to see anything encouraging in your present performance1 it would need the sympathy and intelligence of the ,american sculptor ,greenough1 of whom it was said that his recognition was not limited to achievement1 but extended to latent powers4 ,the world1 however1 recognizes nothing short of performance1 because the performance is what it needs1 and promises are of no use to it4 ,in this rough justice of the world there is a natural distribution of rewards4 ,you will be paid1 in fame and money1 for all excellent work2 and you will be paid1 in money1 though not in fame1 for all work that is even simply good1 provided it be of a kind that the world needs1 or fancies that it needs4 ,but you will never be paid at all for botch-work1 neither in money nor in fame1 nor by your own inward approval4 ,for we all of us either know that our botch-work is worthless1 or else have serious misgivings about it4 ,that which is less commonly realized by those who have not undergone the test of professional labor is the vastness of the interval that separates botch-work from handicraft1 and the difficulty of getting over it4 ,there are few delusions1 ,charles ,lever said in ,the ,bramleighs1 more common with well-to-do people than the belief that if 'put to it' they could earn their own livelihood in a variety of ways4 ,almost every man has some two or three or more accomplishments which he fancies would be quite adequate to his support2 and remembering with what success the exercise of these gifts has ever been hailed in the society of his friends1 he has a sort of generous dislike to be obliged to eclipse some poor drudge of a professional1 who1 of course1 will be consigned to utter oblivion after his own performance4 ,augustus ,bramleigh was certainly not a conceited or a vain man1 and yet he had often in his palmy days imagined how easy it would be for him to provide for his own support4 ,he was something of a musician2 he sang pleasingly2 he drew a little2 he knew something of three or four modern languages2 he had that sort of smattering acquaintance with questions of religion1 politics1 and literature which the world calls being 'well-informed1' and yet nothing short of the grave necessity revealed to him that towards the object of securing a livelihood a cobbler in his bulk was out-and-out his master4 ,the world has no need of the man of small acquirements1 and would rather have its shoes mended by the veriest botch of a professional than by the cleverest amateur that ever studied a ,greek sandal4 ,something of this illusion1 which ,charles ,lever has touched so truly1 may be due to a peculiarity of the ,english mind in its present 7not quite satisfactory7 stage of development1 a peculiarity which ,i am not the first to point out1 since it has been already indicated by ,mr4 ,pointer1 the distinguished artist2 and ,i think that this peculiarity is to be found in very great force1 perhaps in greater force than elsewhere1 in that well-to-do ,english middle class in which you have been born and educated4 ,it consists in a sort of indifference to skill of all kinds1 which passes into something not very far from active contempt when a call is made for attention1 recognition1 admiration4 ,the source of this feeling will probably be found in the inordinate respect for wealth1 between which and highly developed personal skill1 in anything1 there is a certain antagonism or incompatibility4 ,the men of real skill are almost always men who earn their living by their skill4 ,the feeling of the middle-class capitalists concerning the skilful man may be expressed1 not unjustly1 as follows3 ,yes1 he is very clever2 he may well be clever--it is his trade2 he gets his living by it4 ,this is held to exonerate us from the burden of admiration1 and there is not any serious interest in the achievements of human endeavor as evidence of the marvellous natural endowments and capabilities of the human organism4 ,in some minds the indifference to skill is more active and grows into very real1 though not openly expressed contempt4 ,this contempt is partly moral4 ,the skilful man always rejoices in his skill with a heaven-bestowed joy and delight--one of the purest and most divine pleasures given by ,god to man--an encouragement to labor1 and a reward1 the best reward1 after his arduous apprenticeship4 ,but there is a sour and severe spirit1 hating all innocent pleasures1 which despises the gladness of the skilful as so much personal vanity4 ,there is also the contempt for skill which comes from the pride of knowledge4 ,to attain skill in anything a degree of application is necessary which absorbs more time than the acquisition of knowledge about the thing1 so that the remarkably skilful man is not likely to be the erudite man4 ,there have been instances of men who possessed both skill and learning4 ,the ,american sculptor ,greenough1 and the ,english painter ,dyce1 were at the same time both eminently skilful in their craft and eminently learned out of it2 but the combination is very rare4 ,therefore the possession of skill has come to be considered presumptive evidence of a want of general information4 ,but the truth is that professional skill is knowledge tested and perfected by practical application1 and therefore has a great intellectual value4 ,professional life is to private individuals what active warfare is to a military state4 ,it brings to light every deficiency1 and reveals our truest needs4 ,and therefore it seems to me a matter for regret that you should pass your existence in irresponsible privacy1 and not have your attainments tested by the exigencies of some professional career4 ,the discipline which such a career affords1 and which no private resolution can ever adequately replace1 may be all that is wanting to your development4 ,,letter ,,iii4 ,,to ,a ,,young ,,gentleman ,,who ,,wished ,,to ,,devote ,,himself ,,to ,,literature ,,as ,a ,,profession4 ,byron's vexation at the idea of poetry being considered a profession--,buffon could not bear to be called a naturalist--,cuvier would not be called a ,hellenist--,faraday's life not professional--,the intellectual life frequently protected by professions outside of it--,professional work ought to be plain business work--,michelet's account of the incubation of a book--,necessity for too great rapidity of production in professional literature--,it does not pay to do your best--,journalism and magazine-writing--,illustration from a sister art--,privilege of an author to be allowed to write little4 ,do you remember how put out ,byron was when some reviewer spoke of ,wordsworth as being at the head of the profession8 ,byron's vexation was not entirely due to jealousy of ,wordsworth1 though that may have had something to do with it1 nor was it due either to an aristocratic dislike of being in a profession himself1 though this feeling may have had a certain influence2 it was due to a proper sense of the dignity of the intellectual life4 ,buffon could not bear to be called a naturalist1 and ,cuvier in the same way disliked the title of ,hellenist1 because it sounded professional3 he said that though he knew more ,greek than all the ,academy he was not a ,hellenist as ,gail was1 because he did not live by ,greek4 ,now1 if this feeling had arisen merely from a dislike to having it supposed that one is obliged to earn his own living1 it would have been a contemptibly vulgar sentiment1 whoever professed it4 ,nothing can be more honorable to a man than to earn his bread by honest industry of any kind1 whether it be manual or intellectual1 and still ,i feel with ,byron1 and ,buffon1 and ,cuvier1 that the great instruments of the world's intellectual culture ought not to be1 in the ordinary sense1 professions4 ,byron said that poetry1 as he understood it1 was an art1 an attribute1 but not what is understood by a profession4 ,surely the same is true of all the highest intellectual work1 in whatever kind4 ,you could scarcely consider ,faraday's life to be what is commonly understood by a professional life4 ,tyndall says that if ,faraday had chosen to employ his talents in analytical chemistry he might have realized a fortune of #aej1jjjl4 ,now that would have been a professional existence2 but the career which ,faraday chose 7happily for science7 was not professional1 but intellectual4 ,the distinction between the professional and the intellectual lives is perfectly clear in my own mind1 and therefore ,i ought to be able to express it clearly4 ,let me make the attempt4 ,the purpose of a profession1 of a profession pure and simple1 is to turn knowledge and talent to pecuniary profit4 ,on the other hand1 the purpose of cultivated men1 or men of genius1 who work in an unprofessional spirit1 is to increase knowledge1 or make it more accurate1 or else simply to give free exercise to high faculties which demand it4 ,the distinction is so clear and trenchant that most intellectual men1 whose private fortunes are not large1 prefer to have a profession distinct from their higher intellectual work1 in order to secure the perfect independence of the latter4 ,mr4 ,smiles1 in his valuable book on ,character1 gives a list of eminent intellectual men who have pursued real professional avocations of various kinds separately from their literary or scientific activity1 and he mentions an observation of ,gifford's which is much to my present purpose3--,gifford1 the editor of the ,quarterly1 who knew the drudgery of writing for a living1 once observed that 'a single hour of composition1 won from the business of the day1 is worth more than the whole day's toil of him who works at the trade of literature3 in the one case1 the spirit comes joyfully to refresh itself1 like a hart to the water-brooks2 in the other1 it pursues its miserable way1 panting and jaded1 with the dogs of hunger and necessity behind4' ,so ,coleridge said that three hours of leisure1 unalloyed by any alien anxiety1 and looked forward to with delight as a change and recreation1 will suffice to realize in literature a larger product of what is truly genial than weeks of compulsion4 ,coleridge's idea of a profession was1 that it should be some regular employment which could be carried on so far mechanically1 that an average quantum only of health1 spirits1 and intellectual exertion are requisite to its faithful discharge4 ,without in the least desiring to undervalue good professional work of any kind1 ,i may observe that1 to be truly professional1 it ought to be always at command1 and therefore that the average power of the man's intellect1 not his rare flashes of highest intellectual illumination1 ought to suffice for it4 ,professional work ought always to be plain business work1 requiring knowledge and skill1 but not any effort of genius4 ,for example1 in medicine1 it is professional work to prescribe a dose or amputate a limb1 but not to discover the nervous system or the circulation of the blood4 ,if literature paid sufficiently well to allow it1 a literary man might very wisely consider study to be his profession1 and not production4 ,he would then study regularly1 say1 six hours a day1 and write when he had something to say1 and really wanted to express it4 ,his book1 when it came out1 would have had time to be properly hatched1 and would probably have natural life in it4 ,michelet says of one of his books3 ,cette oeuvre a du moins le caractre d'tre venue comme vient toute vraie cration vivante4 ,elle s'est faite la chaleur d'une douce incubation4#ac ,it would be impossible1 in so short a space1 to give a more accurate description of the natural manner in which a book comes into existence4 ,a book ought always to be fait la chaleur d'une douce incubation4 ,but when you make a profession of literature this is what you can hardly ever get leave to do4 ,literary men require to see something of the world2 they can hardly be hermits1 and the world cannot be seen without a constant running expenditure1 which at the end of the year represents an income4 ,men of culture and refinement really cannot live like very poor people without deteriorating in refinement1 and falling behind in knowledge of the world4 ,when they are married1 and have families1 they can hardly let their families live differently from themselves2 so that there are the usual expenses of the ,english professional classes to be met1 and these are heavy when they have to be got out of the profits of literature4 ,the consequence is1 that if a book is to be written prudently it must be written quickly1 and with the least amount of preparatory labor that can possibly be made to serve4 ,this is very different from the douce incubation of ,michelet4 ,goldsmith said of hack-writing1 that it was difficult to imagine a combination more prejudicial to taste than that of the author whose interest it is to write as much as possible1 and the bookseller1 whose interest it is to pay as little as possible4 ,the condition of authors has no doubt greatly improved since ,goldsmith's time1 but still the fact remains that the most careful and finished writing1 requiring extensive preparatory study1 is a luxury in which the professional writer can only indulge himself at great risk4 ,careful writing does1 no doubt1 occasionally pay for the time it costs2 but such writing is more commonly done by men who are either independent by fortune1 or who make themselves1 as authors1 independent by the pursuit of some other profession1 than by regular men of letters whose whole income is derived from their inkstands4 ,and when1 by way of exception1 the hack-writer does produce very highly-finished and concentrated work1 based upon an elaborate foundation of hard study1 that work is seldom professional in the strictest sense1 but is a labor of love1 outside the hasty journalism or magazine-writing that wins his daily bread4 ,in cases of this kind it is clear that the best work is not done as a regular part of professional duty1 and that the author might as well earn his bread in some other calling1 if he still had the same amount of leisure for the composition of real literature4 ,the fault ,i find with writing as a profession is that it does not pay to do your best4 ,i don't mean to insinuate that downright slovenly or careless work is the most profitable2 but ,i do mean to say that any high degree of conscientiousness1 especially in the way of study and research1 is a direct injury to the professional writer's purse4 ,suppose1 for example1 that he is engaged in reviewing a book1 and is to get #cl4 #ajs4 for the review when it is written4 ,if by the accident of previous accumulation his knowledge is already fully equal to the demand upon it1 the review may be written rapidly1 and the day's work will have been a profitable one2 but if1 on the other hand1 it is necessary to consult several authorities1 to make some laborious researches1 then the reviewer is placed in a dilemma between literary thoroughness and duty to his family4 ,he cannot spend a week in reading up a subject for the sum of #cl4 #ajs4 ,is it not much easier to string together a few phrases which will effectually hide his ignorance from everybody but the half-dozen enthusiasts who have mastered the subject of the book8 ,it is strange that the professional pursuit of literature should be a direct discouragement to study2 yet it is so4 ,there are hack-writers who study1 and they deserve much honor for doing so1 since the temptations the other way are always so pressing and immediate4 ,sainte-,beuve was a true student1 loving literature for its own sake1 and preparing for his articles with a diligence rare in the profession4 ,but he was scarcely a hack-writer1 having a modest independency1 and living besides with the quiet frugality of a bachelor4 ,the truth seems to be that literature of the highest kind can only in the most exceptional cases be made a profession1 yet that a skilful writer may use his pen professionally if he chooses4 ,the production of the printed talk of the day is a profession1 requiring no more than average ability1 and the tone and temper of ordinary educated men4 ,the outcome of it is journalism and magazine-writing2 and now let me say a word or two about these4 ,the highest kind of journalism is very well done in ,england2 the men who do it are often either highly educated1 or richly gifted by nature1 or both4 ,the practice of journalism is useful to an author in giving him a degree of readiness and rapidity1 a skill in turning his materials to immediate account1 and a power of presenting one or two points effectively1 which may often be valuable in literature of a more permanent order4 ,the danger of it may be illustrated by a reference to a sister art4 ,i was in the studio of an ,english landscape-painter when some pictures arrived from an artist in the country to go along with his own to one of the exhibitions4 ,they were all very pretty and very clever--indeed1 so clever were they1 that their cleverness was almost offensive--and so long as they were looked at by themselves1 the brilliance of them was rather dazzling4 ,but the instant they were placed by the side of thoroughly careful and earnest work1 it became strikingly evident that they had been painted hastily1 and would be almost immediately exhausted by the purchaser4 ,now these pictures were the journalism of painting2 and my friend told me that when once an artist has got into the habit of doing hasty work like that1 he seldom acquires better habits afterwards4 ,professional writers who follow journalism for its immediate profits1 are liable in like manner to retain the habit of diffuseness in literature which ought to be more finished and more concentrated4 ,therefore1 although journalism is a good teacher of promptitude and decision1 it often spoils a hand for higher literature by incapacitating it for perfect finish2 and it is better for a writer who has ambition to write little1 but always his best1 than to dilute himself in daily columns4 ,one of the greatest privileges which an author can aspire to is to be allowed to write little1 and that is a privilege which the professional writer does not enjoy except in such rare instances as that of ,tennyson1 whose careful finish is as prudent in the professional sense as it is satisfactory to the scrupulous fastidiousness of the artist4 ,,letter ,,iv4 ,,to ,,an ,,energetic ,,and ,,successful ,,cotton ,,manufacturer4 ,two classes in their lower grades inevitably hostile--,the spiritual and temporal powers--,the functions of both not easily exercised by the same person--,humboldt1 ,faraday1 ,livingstone--,the difficulty about time--,limits to the energy of the individual--,jealousy between the classes--,that this jealousy ought not to exist--,some of the sciences based upon an industrial development--,the work of the intellectual class absolutely necessary in a highly civilized community--,that it grows in numbers and influence side by side with the industrial class4 ,our last conversation together1 in the privacy of your splendid new drawing-room after the guests had gone away and the music had ceased for the night1 left me under the impression that we had not arrived at a perfect understanding of each other4 ,this was due in a great measure to my unfortunate incapacity for expressing anything exactly by spoken words4 ,the constant habit of writing1 which permits a leisurely selection from one's ideas1 is often very unfavorable to readiness in conversation4 ,will you permit me1 then1 to go over the ground we traversed1 this time in my own way1 pen in hand8 ,we represent1 you and ,i1 two classes which in their lower grades are inevitably hostile2 but the superior members of these classes ought not to feel any hostility1 since both are equally necessary to the world4 ,we are1 in truth1 the spiritual and the temporal powers in their most modern form4 ,the chief of industry and the man of letters stand to-day in the same relation to each other and to mankind as the baron and bishop of the ,middle ,ages4 ,we are not recognized1 either of us1 by formally conferred titles1 we are both held to be somewhat intrusive by the representatives of a former order of things1 and there is1 or was until very lately1 a certain disposition to deny what we consider our natural rights2 but we know that our powers are not to be resisted1 and we have the inward assurance that the forces of nature are with us4 ,this1 with reference to the outer world4 ,but there is a want of clearness in the relation between ourselves4 ,you understand your great temporal function1 which is the wise direction of the industry of masses1 the accumulation and distribution of wealth2 but you do not so clearly understand the spiritual function of the intellectual class1 and you do not think of it quite justly4 ,this want of understanding is called by some of us your ,philistinism4 ,will you permit me to explain what the intellectual class thinks of you1 and what is its opinion about itself8 ,pray excuse any appearance of presumption on my part if ,i say we of the intellectual class and you of the industrial4 ,my position is something like that of the clergyman who reads1 ,let him come to me or to some other learned and discreet minister of ,god's word1 thereby calling himself learned and discreet4 ,it is a simple matter of fact that ,i belong to the intellectual class1 since ,i lead its life1 just as it is a fact that you have a quarter of a million of money4 ,first1 ,i want to show that the existence of my class is necessary4 ,although men in various occupations often acquire a considerable degree of culture outside their trade1 the highest results of culture can scarcely ever be attained by men whose time is taken up in earning a fortune4 ,every man has but a limited flow of mental energy per day2 and if this is used up in an industrial leadership1 he cannot do much more in the intellectual sphere than simply ascertain what has been done by others4 ,now1 although we have a certain respect1 and the respect is just1 for those who know what others have accomplished1 it is clear that if no one did more than this1 if no one made any fresh discoveries1 the world would make no progress whatever2 and in fact1 if nobody ever had been dedicated to intellectual pursuits in preceding ages1 the men who only learn what others have done1 would in these days have had nothing to learn4 ,past history proves the immensity of the debt which the world owes to men who gave their whole time and attention to intellectual pursuits2 and if the existences of these men could be eliminated from the past of the human race1 its present would be very different from what it is4 ,a list has been published of men who have done much good work in the intervals of business1 but still the fact remains that the great intellectual pioneers were absorbed and devoted men1 scorning wealth so far as it affected themselves1 and ready to endure everything for knowledge beyond the knowledge of their times4 ,instances of such enthusiasm abound1 an enthusiasm fully justified by the value of the results which it has achieved4 ,when ,alexander ,humboldt sold his inheritance to have the means for his great journey in ,south ,america1 and calmly dedicated the whole of a long life1 and the strength of a robust constitution1 to the advancement of natural knowledge1 he acted foolishly indeed1 if years1 and strength1 and fortune are given to us only to be well invested in view of money returns2 but the world has profited by his decision4 ,faraday gave up the whole of his time to discovery when he might have earned a large fortune by the judicious investment of his extraordinary skill in chemistry4 ,livingstone has sacrificed everything to the pursuit of his great work in ,africa4 ,lives such as these--and many resemble them in useful devotion of which we hear much less--are clearly not compatible with much money-getting4 ,a decent existence1 free from debt1 is all that such men ought to be held answerable for4 ,i have taken two or three leading instances1 but there is quite a large class of intellectual people who cannot in the nature of things serve society effectively in their own way without being quite outside of the industrial life4 ,there is a real incompatibility between some pursuits and others4 ,i suspect that you would have been a good general1 for you are a born leader and commander of men2 but it would have been difficult to unite a regular military career with strict personal attention to your factories4 ,we often find the same difficulty in our intellectual pursuits4 ,we are not always quite so unpractical as you think we are2 but the difficulty is how to find the time1 and how to arrange it so as not to miss two or three distinct classes of opportunities4 ,we are not all of us exactly imbeciles in money matters1 though the pecuniary results of our labors seem no doubt pitiful enough4 ,there is a tradition that a ,greek philosopher1 who was suspected by the practical men of his day of incapacity for affairs1 devoted a year to prove the contrary1 and traded so judiciously that he amassed thereby great riches4 ,it may be doubtful whether he could do it in one year1 but many a fine intellectual capacity has overshadowed a fine practical capacity in the same head by the withdrawal of time and effort4 ,it is because the energies of one man are so limited1 and there is so little time in a single human life1 that the intellectual and industrial functions must1 in their highest development1 be separated4 ,no one man could unite in his own person your life and ,humboldt's1 though it is possible that he might have the natural capacity for both4 ,grant us1 then1 the liberty not to earn very much money1 and this being once granted1 try to look upon our intellectual superiority as a simple natural fact1 just as we look upon your pecuniary superiority4 ,in saying in this plain way that we are intellectually superior to you and your class1 ,i am guilty of no more pride and vanity than you when you affirm or display your wealth4 ,the fact is there1 in its simplicity4 ,we have culture because we have paid the twenty or thirty years of labor which are the price of culture1 just as you have great factories and estates which are the reward of your life's patient and intelligent endeavor4 ,why should there be any narrow jealousy between us2 why any contempt on the one side or the other8 ,each has done his appointed work1 each has caused to fructify the talent which the ,master gave4 ,yet a certain jealousy does exist1 if not between you and me personally1 at least between our classes4 ,the men who have culture without wealth are jealous of the power and privileges of those who possess money without culture2 and on the other hand1 the men whose time has been too entirely absorbed by commercial pursuits to leave them any margin sufficient to do justice to their intellectual powers1 are often painfully sensitive to the contempt of the cultivated1 and strongly disposed1 from jealousy1 to undervalue culture itself4 ,both are wrong so far as they indulge any unworthy and unreasonable feeling of this kind4 ,the existence of the two classes is necessary to an advanced civilization4 ,the science of accumulating and administrating material wealth1 of which you yourself are a great practical master1 is the foundation of the material prosperity of nations1 and it is only when this prosperity is fully assured to great numbers that the arts and sciences can develop themselves in perfect liberty and with the tranquil assurance of their own permanence4 ,the advancement of material well-being in modern states tends so directly to the advancement of intellectual pursuits1 even when the makers of fortunes are themselves indifferent to this result1 that it ought always to be a matter of congratulation for the intellectual class itself1 which needs the support of a great public with leisure to read and think4 ,it is easy to show how those arts and sciences which our class delights to cultivate are built upon those developments of industry which have been brought about by the energy of yours4 ,suppose the case of a scientific chemist3 the materials for his experiments are provided ready to his hand by the industrial class2 the record of them is preserved on paper manufactured by the same industrial class2 and the public which encourages him by its attention is usually found in great cities which are maintained by the labors of the same useful servants of humanity4 ,it is possible1 no doubt1 in these modern times1 that some purely pastoral or agricultural community might produce a great chemist1 because a man of inborn scientific genius who came into the world in an agricultural country might in these days get his books and materials from industrial centres at a distance1 but his work would still be based on the industrial life of others4 ,no pastoral or agricultural community which was really isolated from industrial communities ever produced a chemist4 ,and now consider how enormously important this one science of chemistry has proved itself even to our intellectual life6 ,several other sciences have been either greatly strengthened or else altogether renewed by it1 and the wonderful photographic processes have been for nature and the fine arts what printing was for literature1 placing reliable and authentic materials for study within the reach of every one4 ,literature itself has profited by the industrial progress of the present age1 in the increased cheapness of everything that is material in books4 ,i please myself with the reflection that even you make paper cheaper by manufacturing so much cotton4 ,all these are reasons why we ought not to be jealous of you2 and now permit me to indicate a few other reasons why it is unreasonable on your part to feel any jealousy of us4 ,suppose we were to cease working to-morrow--cease working1 ,i mean1 in our peculiar ways--and all of us become colliers and factory operatives instead1 with nobody to supply our places4 ,or1 since you may possibly be of opinion that there is enough literature and science in the world at the present day1 suppose rather that at some preceding date the whole literary and scientific and artistic labor of the human race2 had come suddenly to a standstill4 ,mind1 ,i do not say of ,englishmen merely1 but of the whole race1 for if any intellectual work had been done in ,france or ,germany1 or even in ,japan1 you would have imported it like cotton and foreign cereals4 ,well1 ,i have no hesitation in telling you that although there was a good deal of literature and science in ,england before the #ast of ,january1 #ahjj1 the present condition of the nation would have been a very chaotic condition if the intellectual class had ceased on that day to think and observe and to place on record its thoughts and observations4 ,the life of a progressive nation cannot long go forward exclusively on the thinking of the past3 its thoughtful men must not be all dead men1 but living men who accompany it on its course4 ,it is they who make clear the lessons of experience2 it is they who discover the reliable general laws upon which all safe action must be founded in the future2 it is they who give decision to human action in every direction by constantly registering1 in language of comprehensive accuracy1 both its successes and its failures4 ,it is their great and arduous labor which makes knowledge accessible to men of action at the cost of little effort and the smallest possible expenditure of time4 ,the intellectual class grows in numbers and in influence along with the numbers and influence of the materially productive population of the ,state4 ,and not only are the natural philosophers1 the writers of contemporary and past history1 the discoverers in science1 necessary in the strictest sense to the life of such a community as the modern ,english community1 but even the poets1 the novelists1 the artists are necessary to the perfection of its life4 ,without them and their work the national mind would be as incomplete as would be the natural universe without beauty4 ,but this1 perhaps1 you will perceive less clearly1 or be less willing to admit4 ,,letter ,v4 ,,to ,a ,,young ,,etonian ,,who ,,thought ,,of ,,becoming ,a ,,cotton-,,spinner4 ,absurd old prejudices against commerce--,stigma attached to the great majority of occupations--,traditions of feudalism--,distinctions between one trade and another--,a real instance of an ,etonian who had gone into the cotton-trade--,observations on this case--,the trade a fine field for energy--,a poor one for intellectual culture--,it develops practical ability--,culture not possible without leisure--,the founders of commercial fortunes4 ,it is agreeable to see various indications that the absurd old prejudices against commerce are certainly declining4 ,there still remains quite enough contempt for trade in the professional classes and the aristocracy1 to give us frequent opportunities for studying it as a relic of former superstition1 unhappily not yet rare enough to be quite a curiosity2 but as time passes and people become more rational1 it will retreat to out-of-the-way corners of old country mansions and rural parsonages1 at a safe distance from the light-giving centres of industry4 ,it is a surprising fact1 and one which proves the almost pathetic spirit of deference and submission to superiors which characterizes the ,english people1 that out of the hundreds of occupations which are followed by the busy classes of this country1 only three are entirely free from some degrading stigma1 so that they may be followed by a high-born youth without any sacrifice of caste4 ,the wonder is that the great active majority of the nation1 the men who by their industry and intelligence have made ,england what she is1 should ever have been willing to submit to so insolent a rule as this rule of caste1 which1 instead of honoring industry1 honored idleness1 and attached a stigma to the most useful and important trades4 ,the landowner1 the soldier1 the priest1 these three were pure from every stain of degradation1 and only these three were quite absolutely and ethereally pure4 ,next to them came the lawyer and the physician1 on whom there rested some traces of the lower earth2 so that although the youthful baron would fight or preach1 he would neither plead nor heal4 ,and after these came the lower professions and the innumerable trades1 all marked with stigmas of deeper and deeper degradation4 ,from the intellectual point of view these prejudices indicate a state of society in which public opinion has not emerged from barbarism4 ,it understands the strength of the feudal chief having land1 with serfs or voters on the land2 it knows the uses of the sword1 and it dreads the menaces of the priesthood4 ,beyond this it knows little1 and despises what it does not understand4 ,it is ignorant of science1 and industry1 and art2 it despises them as servile occupations beneath its conception of the gentleman4 ,this is the tradition of countries which retain the impressions of feudalism2 but notwithstanding all our philosophy1 it is difficult for us to avoid some feeling of astonishment when we reflect that the public opinion of ,england--a country that owes so much of her greatness and nearly all her wealth to commercial enterprise--should be contemptuous towards commerce4 ,i may notice1 in passing1 a very curious form of this narrowness4 ,trade is despised1 but distinctions are established between one trade and another4 ,a man who sells wine is considered more of a gentleman than a man who sells figs and raisins2 and ,i believe you will find1 if you observe people carefully1 that a woollen manufacturer is thought to be a shade less vulgar than a cotton manufacturer4 ,these distinctions are seldom based on reason1 for the work of commerce is generally very much the same sort of work1 mentally1 whatever may be the materials it deals in4 ,you may be heartily congratulated on the strength of mind1 firmness of resolution1 and superiority to prejudice1 which have led you to choose the business of a cotton-spinner4 ,it is an excellent business1 and1 in itself1 every whit as honorable as dealing in corn and cattle1 which our nobles do habitually without reproach4 ,but now that ,i have disclaimed any participation in the stupid narrowness which despises trade in general1 and the cotton-trade in particular1 let me add a few words upon the effects of the cotton business on the mind4 ,there appeared in one of the newspapers a little time since a most interesting and evidently genuine letter from an ,etonian1 who had actually entered business in a cotton factory1 and devoted himself to it so as to earn the confidence of his employers and a salary of #djjl4 a year as manager4 ,he had waited some time uselessly for a diplomatic appointment which did not arrive1 and so1 rather than lose the best years of early manhood1 as a more indolent fellow would have done very willingly1 in pure idleness1 he took the resolution of entering business1 and carried out his determination with admirable persistence4 ,at first nobody would believe that the swell could be serious2 people thought that his idea of manufacturing was a mere freak1 and expected him to abandon it when he had to face the tedium of the daily work2 but the swell was serious--went to the mill at six in the morning and stayed there till six at night1 from ,monday till ,saturday inclusive4 ,after a year of this1 his new companions believed in him4 ,now1 all this is very admirable indeed as a manifestation of energy1 and that truest independence which looks to fortune as the reward of its own manly effort1 but it may be permitted to me to make a few observations on this young gentleman's resolve4 ,what he did seems to me rather the act of an energetic nature seeking an outlet for energy1 than of an intellectual nature seeking pasture and exercise for the intellect4 ,i am far indeed from desiring1 by this comparison1 to cast any disparaging light on the young gentleman's natural endowments1 which appear to have been valuable in their order and robust in their degree1 nor do ,i question the wisdom of his choice2 all ,i mean to imply is1 that although he had chosen a fine large field for simple energy1 it was a poor and barren field for the intellect to pasture in4 ,consider for one moment the difference in this respect between the career which he had abandoned and the trade he had embraced4 ,as an attach he would have lived in capital cities1 have had the best opportunities for perfecting himself in modern languages1 and for meeting the most varied and the most interesting society4 ,in every day there would have been precious hours of leisure1 to be employed in the increase of his culture4 ,if an intellectual man1 having to choose between diplomacy and cotton-spinning1 preferred cotton-spinning it would be from the desire for wealth1 or from the love of an ,english home4 ,the life of a cotton manufacturer1 who personally attends to his business with that close supervision which has generally conducted to success1 leaves scarcely any margin for intellectual pleasure or spare energy for intellectual work4 ,after ten hours in the mill1 it is difficult to sit down and study2 and even if there were energy enough1 the mind would not readily cast off the burden of great practical anxieties and responsibilities so as to attune itself to disinterested thinking4 ,the leaders of industry often display mental power of as high an order as that which is employed in the government of great empires2 they show the highest administrative ability1 they have to deal continually with financial questions which on their smaller scale require as much forethought and acumen as those that concern the exchequer2 but the ability they need is always strictly practical1 and there is the widest difference between the practical and the intellectual minds4 ,a constant and close pressure of practical considerations develops the sort of power which deals effectually with the present and its needs but atrophies the higher mind4 ,the two minds which we call intelligence and intellect resemble the feet and wings of birds4 ,eagles and swallows walk badly or not at all1 but they have a marvellous strength of flight2 ostriches are great pedestrians1 but they know nothing of the regions of the air4 ,the best that can be hoped for men immersed in the details of business is that they may be able1 like partridges and pheasants1 to take a short flight on an emergency1 and rise1 if only for a few minutes1 above the level of the stubble and the copse4 ,without1 therefore1 desiring to imply any prejudiced contempt for trade1 ,i do desire to urge the consideration of its inevitable effects upon the mind4 ,for men of great practical intelligence and abundant energy1 trade is all-sufficing1 but it could never entirely satisfy an intellectual nature4 ,and although there is drudgery in every pursuit1 for even literature and painting are full of it1 still there are certain kinds of drudgery which intellectual natures find to be harder to endure than others4 ,the drudgery which they bear least easily is an incessant attention to duties which have no intellectual interest1 and yet which cannot be properly performed mechanically so as to leave the mind at liberty for its own speculations4 ,deep thinkers are notoriously absent1 for thought requires abstraction from what surrounds us1 and it is hard for them to be denied the liberty of dreaming4 ,an intellectual person might be happy as a stone-breaker on the roadside1 because the work would leave his mind at liberty2 but he would certainly be miserable as an engine-driver at a coal-pit shaft1 where the abstraction of an instant would imperil the lives of others4 ,in a recent address delivered by ,mr4 ,gladstone at ,liverpool1 he acknowledged the neglect of culture which is one of the shortcomings of our trading community1 and held out the hope 7perhaps in some degree illusory7 that the same persons might become eminent in commerce and in learning4 ,no doubt there have been instances of this2 and when a concern has been firmly established by the energy of a predecessor1 the heir to it may be satisfied with a royal sort of supervision1 leaving the drudgery of detail to his managers1 and so secure for himself that sufficient leisure without which high culture is not possible4 ,but the founders of great commercial fortunes have1 ,i believe1 in every instance thrown their whole energy into their trade1 making wealth their aim1 and leaving culture to be added in another generation4 ,the founders of commercial families are in this country usually men of great mother-wit and plenty of determination--but illiterate4 ,,footnotes3 #ab ,the word disinterested is used here in the sense explained in ,part ,,ii4 ,letter ,,iii4 #ac ,this work has at any rate the character of having come into the world like every really living creation4 ,it has been produced by the heat of a gentle incubation4 ,,part ,,xii4 ,,surroundings4 ,,letter ,i4 ,,to ,a ,,friend ,,who ,,often ,,changed ,,his ,,place ,,of ,,residence4 ,an unsettled class of ,english people--,effect of localities on the mind--,reaction against surroundings--,landscape-painting a consequence of it--,crushing effect of too much natural magnificence--,the mind takes color from its surroundings--,selection of a place of residence--,charles ,dickens--,heinrich ,heine--,dr4 ,arnold at ,rugby--,his house in the lake district--,tycho ,brahe--,his establishment on the island of ,hween--,the young ,humboldts in the ,castle of ,tegel--,alexander ,humboldt's appreciation of ,paris--,dr4 ,johnson--,mr4 ,buckle--,cowper--,galileo4 ,i find that there is a whole class of ,english subjects 7you belong to that class7 of whom it is utterly impossible to predict where they will be living in five years4 ,indeed1 as you are the worst of correspondents1 ,i only learned your present address1 by sheer accident1 from a perfect stranger1 and he told me1 of course1 that you had plans for going somewhere else1 but where that might be he knew not4 ,the civilized ,english nomad is usually1 like yourself1 a person of independent means1 rich enough to bear the expenses of frequent removals1 but without the cares of property4 ,his money is safely invested in the funds1 or in railways2 and so1 wherever the postman can bring his dividends1 he can live in freedom from material cares4 ,when his wife is as unsettled as himself1 the pair seem to live in a balloon1 or in a sort of ,noah's ark1 which goes whither the wind lists1 and takes ground in the most unexpected places4 ,have you ever studied the effect of localities on the mind--on your own mind8 ,that which we are is due in great part to the accident of our surroundings1 which act upon us in one or two quite opposite ways4 ,either we feel in harmony with them1 in which case they produce a positive effect upon us1 or else we are out of harmony1 and then they drive us into the strangest reactions4 ,a great ugly ,english town1 like ,manchester1 for instance1 makes some men such thorough townsmen that they cannot live without smoky chimneys2 or it fills the souls of others with such a passionate longing for beautiful scenery and rustic retirement1 that they find it absolutely necessary to bury themselves from time to time in the recesses of picturesque mountains4 ,the development of modern landscape-painting has not been due to habits of rural existence1 but to the growth of very big and hideous modern cities1 which made men long for shady forests1 and pure streams1 and magnificent spectacles of sunset1 and dawn1 and moonlight4 ,it is by this time a trite observation that people who have always lived in beautiful scenery do not1 and cannot1 appreciate it2 that too much natural magnificence positively crushes the activity of the intellect and that its best effect is simply that of refreshment for people who have not access to it every day4 ,it happens too1 in a converse way1 that rustics and mountaineers have the strongest appreciation of the advantages of great cities1 and thrive in them often more happily than citizens who are born in the brick streets4 ,those who have great facilities for changing their place of residence ought always to bear in mind that every locality is like a dyer's vat1 and that the residents take its color1 or some other color1 from it just as the clothes do that the dyer steeps in stain4 ,if you look back upon your past life1 you will assuredly admit that every place has colored your mental habits2 and that although other tints from other places have supervened1 so that it may be difficult to say precisely what remains of the place you lived in many years ago1 still something does remain1 like the effect of the first painting on a picture1 which tells on the whole work permanently1 though it may have been covered over and over again by what painters call scumblings and glazings4 ,the selection of a place of residence1 even though we only intend to pass a few short years in it1 is from the intellectual point of view a matter so important that one can hardly exaggerate its consequences4 ,we see this quite plainly in the case of authors1 whose minds are more visible to us than the minds of other men1 and therefore more easily and conveniently studied4 ,we need no biographer to inform us that ,dickens was a ,londoner1 that ,browning had lived in ,italy1 that ,ruskin had passed many seasons in ,switzerland and ,venice4 ,suppose for one moment that these three authors had been born in ,ireland1 and had never quitted it1 is it not certain that their production would have been different8 ,let us carry our supposition farther still1 and conceive1 if we can1 the difference to their literary performance if they had been born1 not in ,ireland1 but in ,iceland1 and lived there all their lives6 ,is it not highly probable that in this case their production would have been so starved and impoverished from insufficiency of material and of suggestion1 that they would have uttered nothing but some simple expression of sentiment and imagination1 some homely song or tale8 ,all sights and sounds have their influence on our temper and on our thoughts1 and our inmost being is not the same in one place as in another4 ,we are like blank paper that takes a tint by reflection from what is nearest1 and changes it as its surroundings change4 ,in a dull gray room1 how gray and dull it looks6 but it will be bathed in rose or amber if the hangings are crimson or yellow4 ,there are natures that go to the streams of life in great cities as the heart goes to the water-brooks2 there are other natures that need the solitude of primval forests and the silence of the ,alps4 ,the most popular of ,english novelists sometimes went to write in the tranquillity of beautiful scenery1 taking his manuscript to the shore of some azure lake in ,switzerland1 in sight of the eternal snow2 but all that beauty and peace1 all that sweetness of pure air and color1 were not seductive enough to overcome for many days the deep longing for the ,london streets4 ,his genius needed the streets1 as a bee needs the summer flowers1 and languished when long separated from them4 ,others have needed the wild heather1 or the murmur of the ocean1 or the sound of autumn winds that strip great forest-trees4 ,who does not deeply pity poor ,heine in his last sad years1 when he lay fixed on his couch of pain in that narrow ,parisian lodging1 and compared it to the sounding grave of ,merlin the enchanter1 which is situated in the wood of ,brozeliande1 in ,brittany1 under lofty oaks whose tops taper1 like emerald flames1 towards heaven4 ,o brother ,merlin1 he exclaims1 and with what touching pathos6 ,o brother ,merlin1 ,i envy thee those trees1 with their fresh breezes1 for never a green leaf rustles about this mattress-grave of mine in ,paris1 where from morning till night ,i hear nothing but the rattle of wheels1 the clatter of hammers1 street-brawls1 and the jingling of pianofortes6 ,in the biography of ,dr4 ,arnold1 his longing for natural beauty recurs as one of the peculiarities of his constitution4 ,he did not need very grand scenery1 though he enjoyed it deeply1 but some wild natural loveliness was such a necessity for him that he pined for it unhappily in its absence4 ,rugby could offer him scarcely anything of this1 ,we have no hills1 he lamented1 no plains--not a single wood1 and but one single copse2 no heath1 no down1 no rock1 no river1 no clear stream--scarcely any flowers1 for the lias is particularly poor in them--nothing but one endless monotony of enclosed fields and hedgerow trees4 ,this is to me a daily privation2 it robs me of what is naturally my anti-attrition2 and as ,i grow older ,i begin to feel it4444 ,the positive dulness of the country about ,rugby makes it to me a mere working-place3 ,i cannot expatiate there even in my walks4 ,the monotonous character of the midland scenery of ,warwickshire1 says ,dr4 ,arnold's biographer1 was to him1 with his strong love of natural beauty and variety1 absolutely repulsive2 there was something almost touching in the eagerness with which1 amidst that 'endless succession of fields and hedgerows1' he would make the most of any features of a higher order2 in the pleasure with which he would cherish the few places where the current of the ,avon was perceptible1 or where a glimpse of the horizon could be discerned2 in the humorous despair with which he would gaze on the dull expanse of fields eastward from ,rugby4 ,it is no wonder we do not like looking that way1 when one considers that there is nothing fine between us and the ,ural mountains4 ,conceive what you look over2 for you just miss ,sweden1 and look over ,holland1 the north of ,germany1 and the centre of ,russia4#ad ,this dreadful midland monotony impelled ,dr4 ,arnold to seek refreshment and compensation in a holiday home in the ,lake district1 and there he found all that his eyes longed for1 streams1 hills1 woods1 and wild-flowers4 ,nor had his belief in the value of these sweet natural surroundings been illusory2 such instincts are not given for our betrayal1 and the soul of a wise man knows its own needs1 both before they are supplied1 and after4 ,westmorland gave him all he had hoped from it1 and more4 ,body and mind1 he wrote1 alike seem to repose greedily in delicious quiet1 without dulness1 which we enjoy in ,westmorland4 ,and again3 ,at ,allan ,bank1 in the summer1 ,i worked on the ,roman history1 and hope to do so again in the winter4 ,it is very inspiring to write with such a view before one's eyes as that from our drawing-room at ,allan ,bank1 where the trees of the shrubbery gradually run up into the trees of the cliff1 and the mountain-side1 with its infinite variety of rocky peaks and points upon which the cattle expatiate1 rises over the tops of the trees4 ,of all happily-situated mental laborers who have worked since the days of ,horace1 surely ,tycho ,brahe was the happiest and most to be envied4 ,king ,frederick of ,denmark gave him a delightful island for his habitation1 large enough for him not to feel imprisoned 7the circumference being about five miles71 yet little enough for him to feel as snugly at home there as ,mr4 ,waterton in his high-walled park4 ,the land was fertile and rich in game1 so that the scientific ,robinson ,crusoe lived in material abundance2 and as he was only about seven miles from ,copenhagen1 he could procure everything necessary to his convenience4 ,he built a great house on the elevated land in the midst of the isle1 about three-quarters of a mile from the sea1 a palace of art and science1 with statues and paintings and all the apparatus which the ingenuity of that age could contrive for the advancement of astronomical pursuits4 ,uniting the case of a rich nobleman's existence with every aid to science1 including special erections for his instruments1 and a printing establishment that worked under his own immediate direction1 he lived far enough from the capital to enjoy the most perfect tranquillity1 yet near enough to escape the consequences of too absolute isolation4 ,aided in all he undertook by a staff of assistants that he himself had trained1 supported in his labor by the encouragement of his sovereign1 and especially by his own unflagging interest in scientific investigation1 he led in that peaceful island the ideal intellectual life4 ,of that mansion where he labored1 of the observatory where he watched the celestial phenomena1 surrounded but not disturbed by the waves of a shallow sea1 there remains at this day literally not one stone upon another2 but many a less fortunate laborer in the same field1 harassed by poverty1 distracted by noise and interruption1 has remembered with pardonable envy the splendid peace of ,uranienborg4 ,it was one of the many fortunate circumstances in the position of the two ,humboldts that they passed their youth in the quiet old castle of ,tegel1 separated from ,berlin by a pine-wood1 and surrounded by walks and gardens4 ,they too1 like ,tycho ,brahe1 enjoyed that happy combination of tranquillity with the neighborhood of a capital city which is so peculiarly favorable to culture4 ,in later life1 when ,alexander ,humboldt had collected those immense masses of material which were the result of his travels in ,south ,america1 he warmly appreciated the unequalled advantages of ,paris4 ,he knew how to extract from the solitudes of primval nature what he wanted for the enrichment of his mind2 but he knew also how to avail himself of all the assistance and opportunities which are only to be had in great capitals4 ,he was not attracted to town-life1 like ,dr4 ,johnson and ,mr4 ,buckle1 to the exclusion of wild nature2 but neither1 on the other hand1 had he that horror of towns which was a morbid defect in ,cowper1 and which condemns those who suffer from it to rusticity4 ,even ,galileo1 who thought the country especially favorable to speculative intellects1 and the walls of cities an imprisonment for them1 declared that the best years of his life were those he had spent in ,padua4 ,,letter ,,ii4 ,,to ,a ,,friend ,,who ,,maintained ,,that ,,surroundings ,,were ,a ,,matter ,,of ,,indifference ,,to ,a ,,thoroughly ,,occupied ,,mind4 ,archimedes at the siege of ,syracuse--,geoffroy ,st4 ,hilaire in the besieged city of ,alexandria--,goethe at the bombardment of ,verdun--,lullo1 the ,oriental missionary--,giordano ,bruno--,unacknowledged effect of surroundings--,effect of ,frankfort on ,goethe--,great capitals--,goethe--,his garden-house--,what he said about ,branger and ,paris--,fortunate surroundings of ,titian4 ,there are so many well-known instances of men who have been able to continue their intellectual labors under the most unfavorable conditions1 that your argument might be powerfully supported by an appeal to actual experience4 ,there is ,archimedes1 of course1 to begin with1 who certainly seems to have abstracted himself sufficiently from the tumult of a great siege to forget it altogether when occupied with his mathematical problems4 ,the prevalent stories of his death1 though not identical1 point evidently to a habit of abstraction which had been remarked as a peculiarity by those about him1 and it is probable enough that a great inventor in engineering would follow his usual speculations under circumstances which1 though dangerous1 had lasted long enough to become habitual4 ,even modern warfare1 which from the use of gunpowder is so much noisier than that which raged at ,syracuse1 does not hinder men from thinking and writing when they are used to it4 ,geoffrey ,st4 ,hilaire never worked more steadily and regularly in his whole life than he did in the midst of the besieged city of ,alexandria4 ,knowledge is so sweet1 he said long afterwards1 in speaking of this experience1 that it never entered my thoughts how a bombshell might in an instant have cast into the abyss both me and my documents4 ,by good luck two electric fish had been caught and given to him just then1 so he immediately began to make experiments1 as if he had been in his own cabinet in ,paris1 and for three weeks he thought of nothing else1 utterly forgetting the fierce warfare that filled the air with thunder and flame1 and the streets with victims4 ,he had sixty-four hypotheses to amuse him1 and it was necessary to review his whole scientific acquirement with reference to each of these as he considered them one by one4 ,it may be doubted1 however1 whether he was more in danger from the bombardment or from the intensity of his own mental concentration4 ,he grew thin and haggard1 slept one hour in the twenty-four1 and lived in a perilous condition of nervous strain and excitement4 ,goethe at the bombardment of ,verdun1 letting his mind take its own course1 found that it did not occupy itself with tragedies1 or with anything suggested by what was passing in the conflict around him1 but by scientific considerations about the phenomena of colors4 ,he noticed1 in a passing observation1 the bad effect of war upon the mind1 how it makes people destructive one day and creative the next1 how it accustoms them to phases intended to excite hope in desperate circumstances1 thus producing a peculiar sort of hypocrisy different from the priestly and courtly kind4 ,this is the extent of his interest in the war2 but when he finds some soldiers fishing he is attracted to the spot and profoundly occupied--not with the soldiers1 but with the optical phenomena on the water4 ,he was never very much moved by external events1 nor did he take that intense interest in the politics of the day which we often find in people less studious of literature and science4 ,raimond ,lullo1 the ,oriental missionary1 continued to write many volumes in the midst of the most continual difficulties and dangers1 preserving as much mental energy and clearness as if he had been safe and tranquil in a library4 ,giordano ,bruno worked constantly also in the midst of political troubles and religious persecutions1 and his biographer tells us that il desiderio vivissimo della scienza aveva ben pi efficacia sull' animo del ,bruno1 che non gli avvenimenti esterni4 ,these examples which have just occurred to me1 and many others that it would be easy to collect1 may be taken to prove at least so much as this1 that it is possible to be absorbed in private studies when surrounded by the most disturbing influences2 but even in these cases it would be a mistake to conclude that the surroundings had no effect whatever4 ,there can be no doubt that ,geoffroy ,st4 ,hilaire was intensely excited by the siege of ,alexandria1 though he may not have attributed his excitement to that cause4 ,his mind was occupied with the electrical fishes1 but his nervous system was wrought upon by the siege1 and kept in that state of tension which at the same time enabled him to get through a gigantic piece of intellectual labor and made him incapable of rest4 ,had this condition been prolonged it must have terminated either in exhaustion or in madness4 ,men have often engaged in literature or science to escape the pressure of anxiety1 which strenuous mental labor permits us1 at least temporarily1 to forget2 but the circumstances which surround us have invariably an influence of some kind upon our thinking1 though the connection may not be obvious4 ,even in the case of ,goethe1 who could study optics on a battle-field1 his ,english biographer recognizes the effect of the ,frankfort life which surrounded the great author in his childhood4 ,the old ,frankfort city1 with its busy crowds1 its fairs1 its mixed population1 and its many sources of excitement1 offered great temptations and great pasture to so desultory a genius4 ,this is perhaps a case wherein circumstances may be seen influencing the direction of character4444 ,a large continuity of thought and effort was perhaps radically uncongenial to such a temperament2 yet one cannot help speculating whether under other circumstances he might not have achieved it4 ,had he been reared in a quiet little old ,german town1 where he would have daily seen the same faces in the silent streets1 and come in contact with the same characters1 his culture might have been less various1 but it might perhaps have been deeper4 ,had he been reared in the country1 with only the changing seasons and the sweet serenities of nature to occupy his attention when released from study1 he would certainly have been a different poet4 ,the long summer afternoons spent in lonely rambles1 the deepening twilights filled with shadowy visions1 the slow uniformity of his external life necessarily throwing him more and more upon the subtler diversities of inward experience1 would inevitably have influenced his genius in quite different directions1 would have animated his works with a very different spirit4 ,we are sometimes told that life in a great capital is essential to the development of genius1 but ,frankfort was the largest town ,goethe ever lived in1 and he never visited either ,paris or ,london4 ,much of the sanity of his genius may have been due to his residence in so tranquil a place as ,weimar1 where he could shut himself up in his garden-house and lock all the gates of the bridge over the ,ilm4 ,the solitude1 says ,mr4 ,lewes1 is absolute1 broken only by the occasional sound of the church clock1 the music from the barracks1 and the screaming of the peacocks spreading their superb beauty in the park4 ,few men of genius have been happier in their surroundings than ,goethe4 ,he had tranquillity1 and yet was not deprived of intellectual intercourse2 the scenery within excursion-distance from his home was interesting and even inspiring1 yet not so splendid as to be overwhelming4 ,we know from his conversations that he was quite aware of the value of those little centres of culture to ,germany1 and yet in one place he speaks of ,branger in the tone which seems to imply an appreciation of the larger life of ,paris4 ,fancy1 he says1 this same ,branger away from ,paris1 and the influence and opportunities of a world-city1 born as the son of a poor tailor1 at ,jena or ,weimar2 let him run his wretched career in either of the two small cities1 and see what fruit would have grown on such a soil and in such an atmosphere4 ,we cannot too frequently be reminded that we are nothing of ourselves1 and by ourselves1 and are only something by the place we hold in the intellectual chain of humanity by which electricity is conveyed to us and through us--to be increased in the transmission if we have great natural power and are favorably situated1 but not otherwise4 ,a child is born to the ,vecelli family at ,cadore1 and when it is nine years old is taken to ,venice and placed under the tuition of ,sebastian ,zuccato4 ,afterwards he goes to ,bellini's school1 and there gets acquainted with another student1 one year his junior1 whose name is ,barbarelli4 ,they live together and work together in ,venice2 then young ,barbarelli 7known to posterity as ,giorgione71 after putting on certain spaces of wall and squares of canvas such color as the world had never before seen1 dies in his early manhood and leaves ,vecellio1 whom we call ,titian1 to work on there in ,venice till the plague stays his hand in his hundredth year4 ,the genius came into the world1 but all the possibilities of his development depended upon the place and the time4 ,he came exactly in the right place and precisely at the right time4 ,to be born not far from ,venice in the days of ,bellini1 to be taken there at nine years old1 to have ,giorgione for one's comrade1 all this was as fortunate for an artistic career as the circumstances of ,alexander of ,macedon were for a career of conquest4 ,,letter ,,iii4 ,,to ,,an ,,artist ,,who ,,was ,,fitting ,,up ,a ,,magnificent ,,new ,,studio4 ,pleasure of planning a studio--,opinions of an outsider--,saint ,bernard--,father ,ravignan--,goethe's study and bed-room--,gustave ,dor's studio--,leslie's painting-room--,turner's opinion--,habits of ,scott and ,dickens--,extremes good--,vulgar mediocrity not so good--,value of beautiful views to literary men--,montaigne--,views from the author's windows4 ,nothing in the life of an artist is more agreeable than the building and furnishing of the studio in which he hopes to produce his most mature and perfect work4 ,it is so pleasant to labor when we are surrounded by beauty and convenience1 that painters find a large and handsome studio to be an addition to the happiness of their lives1 and they usually dream of it1 and plan it1 several years before the dream is realized4 ,only a few days ago ,i was talking on this very subject with an intellectual friend who is not an artist1 and who maintained that the love of fine studios is in great part a mere illusion4 ,he admitted the necessity for size1 and for a proper kind of light1 but laughed at carved oak1 and tapestry1 and armor1 and the knicknacks that artists encumber themselves with4 ,he would have it that a mind thoroughly occupied with its own business knew nothing whatever of the objects that surrounded it1 and he cited two examples--,saint ,bernard1 who travelled all day by the shore of ,lake ,leman without seeing it1 and the pre ,ravignan1 who worked in a bare little room with a common table of blackened pine and a cheap rush-bottomed chair4 ,on this ,i translated to him1 from ,goethe's life by ,lewes1 a passage which was new to him and delighted him as a confirmation of his theory4 ,the biographer describes the poet's study as a low-roofed narrow room1 somewhat dark1 for it is lighted only through two tiny windows1 and furnished with a simplicity quite touching to behold4 ,in the centre stands a plain oval table of unpolished oak4 ,no arm-chair is to be seen1 no sofa1 nothing which speaks of ease4 ,a plain hard chair has beside it the basket in which he used to place his handkerchief4 ,against the wall1 on the right1 is a long pear-tree table1 with bookshelves1 on which stand lexicons and manuals4444 ,on the side-wall again1 a bookcase with some works of poets4 ,on the wall to the left is a long desk of soft wood1 at which he was wont to write4 ,a sheet of paper with notes of contemporary history is fastened near the door4 ,the same door leads into a bed-room1 if bed-room it can be called1 which no maid-of-all-work in ,england would accept without a murmur3 it is a closet with a window4 ,a simple bed1 an armchair by its side1 and a tiny washing-table with a small white basin on it1 and a sponge1 is all the furniture4 ,to enter this room with any feeling for the greatness and goodness of him who slept here1 and who here slept his last sleep1 brings tears into our eyes1 and makes the breathing deep4 ,when ,i had finished reading this passage1 my friend exclaimed triumphantly1 ,there6 don't you see that it was just because ,goethe had imaginative power of a strong and active kind that he cared nothing about what surrounded him when he worked8 ,he had statues and pictures to occupy his mind when it was disengaged1 but when he wrote he preferred that bare little cell where nothing was to be seen that could distract his attention for an instant4 ,depend upon it1 ,goethe acted in this matter either from a deliberate and most wise calculation1 or else from the sure instinct of genius4 ,whilst we were on this subject ,i thought over other instances1 and remembered my surprise on visiting ,gustave ,dor in his painting-room in ,paris4 ,dor has a ,gothic exuberance of imagination1 so ,i expected a painting-room something like ,victor ,hugo's house1 rather barbarous1 but very rich and interesting1 with plenty of carved cabinets1 and tapestry1 and biblos1 as they call picturesque curiosities in ,paris4 ,to my surprise1 there was nothing 7except canvases and easels7 but a small deal table1 on which tubes of oil-color were thrown in disorder1 and two cheap chairs4 ,here1 evidently1 the pleasure of painting was sufficient to occupy the artist2 and in the room where he made his illustrations the characteristics were simplicity and good practical arrangements for order1 but there was nothing to amuse the imagination4 ,mr4 ,leslie used to paint in a room which was just like any other in the house1 and had none of the peculiarities of a studio4 ,turner did not care in the least what sort of a room he painted in1 provided it had a door1 and a bolt on the inside4 ,scott could write anywhere1 even in the family sitting-room1 with talk going forward as usual2 and after he had finished ,abbotsford1 he did not write in any of its rich and noble rooms1 but in a simple closet with book-shelves round it4 ,dickens wrote in a comfortable room1 well lighted and cheerful1 and he liked to have funny little bronzes on his writing-table4 ,the best way appears to be to surround ourselves1 whenever it can be conveniently done1 with whatever we know by experience to be favorable to our work4 ,i think the barest cell monk ever prayed in would be a good place for imaginative composition1 and so too would be the most magnificent rooms in ,chatsworth or ,blenheim4 ,a middling sort of place with a ,philistine character1 vulgar upholstery1 and vulgar pictures or engravings1 is really dangerous1 because these things often attract attention in the intervals of labor and occupy it in a mean way4 ,an artist is always the better for having something that may profitably amuse and occupy his eye when he quits his picture1 and ,i think it is a right instinct which leads artists to surround themselves with many picturesque and beautiful things1 not too orderly in their arrangement1 so that there may be pleasant surprises for the eye1 as there are in nature4 ,for literary men there is nothing so valuable as a window with a cheerful and beautiful prospect4 ,it is good for us to have this refreshment for the eye when we leave off working1 and ,montaigne did wisely to have his study up in a tower from which he had extensive views4 ,there is a well-known objection to extensive views1 as wanting in snugness and comfort1 but this objection scarcely applies to the especial case of literary men4 ,what we want is not so much snugness as relief1 refreshment1 suggestion1 and we get these1 as a general rule1 much better from wide prospects than from limited ones4 ,i have just alluded to ,montaigne1--will you permit me to imitate that dear old philosopher in his egotism and describe to you the view from the room ,i write in1 which cheers and amuses me continually8 ,but before describing this let me describe another of which the recollection is very dear to me and as vivid as a freshly-painted picture4 ,in years gone by1 ,i had only to look up from my desk and see a noble loch in its inexhaustible loveliness1 and a mountain in its majesty4 ,it was a daily and hourly delight to watch the breezes play about the enchanted isles1 on the delicate silvery surface1 dimming some clear reflection1 or trailing it out in length1 or cutting sharply across it with acres of rippling blue4 ,it was a frequent pleasure to see the clouds play about the crest of ,cruachan and ,ben ,vorich's golden head1 gray mists that crept upwards from the valleys till the sunshine suddenly caught them and made them brighter than the snows they shaded4 ,and the leagues and leagues of heather on the lower land to the southward that became like the aniline dyes of deepest purple and blue1 when the sky was gray in the evening--all save one orange-streak6 ,ah1 those were spectacles never to be forgotten1 splendors of light and glory1 and sadness of deepening gloom when the eyes grew moist in the twilight and secretly drank their tears4 ,and yet1 wonderful as it was1 that noble and passionately beloved ,highland scenery was wanting in one great element that a writer imperatively needs4 ,in all that natural magnificence humanity held no place4 ,hidden behind a fir-clad promontory to the north1 there still remained1 it is true1 the gray ruin of old ,kilchurn1 and far to the south-west1 in another reach of the lake1 the island-fortress of ,ardhonnel4 ,but there was not a visible city with spires and towers1 there were only the fir-trees on the little islands and a few gravestones on the largest4 ,beyond1 were the depopulated deserts of ,breadalbane4 ,here1 where ,i write to you now1 it seems as if mankind were nearer1 and the legends of the ages written out for me on the surface of the world4 ,under the shadow of ,jove's hill rises before me one of the most ancient of ,european cities1 soror et mula ,rom4 ,she bears on her walls and edifices the record of sixty generations4 ,temple1 and arch1 and pyramid1 all these bear witness still1 and so do her ancient bulwarks1 and many a stately tower4 ,high above all1 the cathedral spire is drawn dark in the morning mist1 and often in the clear summer evenings it comes brightly in slanting sunshine against the steep woods behind4 ,then the old city arrays herself in the warmest and mellowest tones1 and glows as the shadows fall4 ,she reigns over the whole width of her valley to the folds of the far blue hills4 ,even so ought our life to be surrounded by the loveliness of nature--surrounded1 but not subdued4 ,,footnote3 #ad ,how purely this is the misery of a man of culture6 ,a peasant would not have gone so far4 ,,index4 ,abolition of custom1 how to effect1 #beb ,abstinence from newspaper reading1 #dfa ,accomplishments1 masculine and feminine1 #cjc ,accumulation of preparatory knowledge1 #ddh ,accumulators1 great1 of money1 #bcg ,activity1 mere1 a waste of time1 #aij ,adult brain1 the1 #afb ,advantages of few authors to poor1 #bdd -- of experience1 #dbj ,affectations of caste1 #cea ,affirmations based upon authority1 #bhb ,african traveller and map-makers1 #dfi ,alcibiades1 education of1 #aag ,alphabet1 ,greek1 #ced ,amateurism1 #acd ,ampre1 profoundly scientific1 #bgh -- anecdote of1 #bhg ,amusement1 necessity of1 #ded ,analytical observation1 value of1 #caj ,anatomy1 difficulty of study1 #aaf ,ancients1 incorrect use of word1 #adf -- and moderns compared1 #bee ,application and opportunities1 #bdd ,arabia1 use of coffee1 #dj ,archimedes in the bath1 #caj -- at ,syracuse1 #eci ,aristocracy1 liberal and illiberal1 #ceh -- unwritten religious law of1 #cff -- and democracy1 #cda -- spirit of1 in reading1 #dgb ,arnold1 ,dr41 quoted1 #add1 #ece -- definition of religion1 #bga -- intellectual force1 #bgh ,arnold1 ,matthew1 ,self-dependence quoted1 #deh ,art of reading1 #baa -- of resting1 #dee ,artist1 idea of happy marriage1 #bhi ,artistic conception of black coats1 #bdi ,artists1 drudgery of1 #ge -- poor critics1 #ie ,arts1 practical pursuit of1 #dih ,assimilating power of brain1 #afb ,assimilation1 power of1 #afg ,association of ideas1 #afh ,atheism1 popular construction1 #bgb ,athenian education1 #aag ,attraction of the future1 #bee ,author in mortal disease1 to an1 #ec -- and tradesman compared1 #bcf -- his advice about notes1 #afg -- his study described1 #eea ,authors1 dependence upon private means1 #bcb -- young1 eagerness of1 #dai -- selfishness of1 #dga -- condition since ,goldsmith's time1 #eji ,authorship1 privilege of1 #cda ,available knowledge1 #aae ,baker1 ,sir ,samuel1 and wife1 #cjb ,balzac's method in literature1 #dba ,barbarian notions1 return to1 #cef ,bargeman's wife1 example of1 #dag ,basis1 moral1 the1 #fg ,baudelaire1 ,charles1 quoted1 #he ,beckford1 ,mr41 author of ,vathek1 #bae -- two thousand slaves labor for1 #bah ,beer1 use of1 #cf ,belgian school of painting1 #gc ,bixio1 ,alexandre1 death-bed1 #ec ,black coats artistic at dinner table1 #bdi ,blessing of good1 cheap literature1 #bdd ,boar-hunt1 the author at1 #df ,bodily exercise1 neglect of1 #dh ,body and brain1 close connection1 #ba ,book-making differs from literature1 #hc ,books and newspapers1 #dgj ,bossuet1 #bcb ,bourgeoisie1 low condition1 #cfg ,brain and body1 close connection1 #ba ,brain work unfavorable to digestion1 #cd ,bramleighs1 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,miscalculation1 bad results1 #aif ,miscellaneous reading1 our debt to1 #acb ,mitford1 ,miss1 quoted1 #dga ,mobility of fashionable taste1 #cib ,modern education1 #aaf -- inventions1 power of1 #bef -- languages1 to student of1 #adi -- languages1 limits of soundness1 #ahc -- mind looks forward1 #bee ,modern ,painters1 result of long study1 #bbi -- work of genius and wealth1 #bbi ,money1 the influences of1 #baf -- restraints of1 #bch -- the guardian of peace1 #bch -- accumulated labor of the past1 #bch -- protector of intellectual life1 #bch ,montaigne1 early education of1 #aba -- purchases of books1 #dje -- his tower1 #eej ,moore's trials with ,lalla ,rookh1 #gb ,moral basis1 the1 #fg -- utility of culture1 #aja ,morality1 individual theories1 #ii -- public opinion regulates1 #beg -- general advance of1 #beh ,morbid mind1 cure for1 #dcj ,morris1 a diligent student1 #dej ,mother and son1 difference in religious views1 #bhd -- the uneducated1 #cbe ,mulready1 preparation for new picture1 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and laws of1 #bhc -- requires heat and heroism1 #bgf -- of living1 #cie ,scientific cookery1 importance of1 #ce -- writers and thinkers1 independence1 #beh -- at variance with clergy1 #bgd ,scott1 ,sir ,walter1 physical exercise1 #bd -- habits of1 #cc -- writing-closet1 #edi ,secular power resists ecclesiastical1 #beh ,selection of knowledge1 #ajh ,selfishness of authors1 #dga ,senses1 usefulness to intellectual life1 #fj ,separation of languages1 #aei ,shelley1 boating exercise1 #bd -- the morality of1 #ii -- writings unprofitable1 #bcb -- desire for solitude1 #dji ,ships of the line1 old1 #bfb ,shopkeepers1 treatment by ,english authors1 #cdh ,siege of ,paris1 #ie ,silent student1 attainments1 #ddd ,simon ,jules1 allusion to1 #ada ,sincerity induced by culture1 #ccb ,skill1 indifference to1 #ejb ,skip judiciously in reading1 #baa ,small talk in ,england and ,france1 #cii ,smiles1 ,mr41 ,character quoted1 #ejf ,smith1 ,sydney1 quoted1 #agc -- common sense of1 #bgg ,smoking1 moderate and excessive1 #ci ,social diversions of the rich1 #bbj ,society1 penalties for infringing custom1 #bdg -- will be obeyed1 #bdh -- desires harmony1 #bdi -- and solitude1 #cgd -- fashionable demands1 #chj -- external deference to culture1 #cic ,solitude and society1 #cgd -- traditional view of1 #dje -- effects upon man1 #djf ,soul and poverty1 reconciliation1 #bdb ,soundness1 requisite to best success1 #agi ,spain1 secular power resists ecclesiastical1 #bej ,spenser1 the fables of1 #bea ,state schools1 exclusion of theology1 #dia ,station fetters intellect1 #cga ,steam makes cities of ,states1 #beg ,stimulants1 effects of1 #cg -- mental1 #fi ,stone in ,glen ,croe1 the1 #dee ,structural relations of languages1 #agj ,student1 the poor1 encouragement1 #bdc -- the poor1 sad story1 #cdd -- dangers of society1 #chb ,study1 indirect uses of1 #aca -- of medicine1 #die ,substitution of experiment for tradition1 #bea ,success1 result of discipline1 #ha -- common road1 gradual increase1 #bbf ,sue1 ,eugene1 daily habits1 #bd ,surgeon1 social rise of1 #dif ,surroundings of cultivated men1 #dcd1 #eca ,swiss gentleman1 anecdote of1 #bgf ,systematic arrangement of work1 #dgh ,taste1 public1 experiments on1 #bce ,tea and coffee1 use of1 #ci ,teachings1 poetical1 true intentions1 #deh ,telescope1 colossal1 of ,lord ,rosse1 #bbj ,temptations of wealth1 #bah ,test of religious belief1 #bgb ,theology1 exclusion from state schools1 #dha ,theoretic equality amongst men1 #cgb ,thiers1 antecedents of1 #dfc -- elevation of1 #dfd ,thoughts upon ,government quoted1 #if ,thrift1 the principle of1 #aic ,tillier1 ,claude1 doctrine of1 #deg ,time1 the power of1 #agf -- loss of1 #agg -- mistaken estimates1 #ahf -- regulated economy1 #bjc ,titian1 early surroundings1 #edd ,tobacco1 use of1 #ch ,trade distinctions1 #eba -- contempt for1 #ebb ,trades and professions1 #dhh ,tradition and custom1 #bdf -- rejected for experiment1 #bed -- decline of authoritative influence1 #bjj -- church of ,rome1 embodiment1 #bfa -- in industrial and fine arts1 note1 #bfc ,training1 intellectual1 #bad ,tranquillity conducive to intellectual success1 #dhj ,travellers1 ,mr4 ,galton's advice1 #daf ,triumph of discipline1 #hf ,trivial events1 relation to great principles1 #cbh ,truth a law of religion1 #bfe ,turner's studio1 #edi ,tyco ,brahe1 princely ease1 #bcc -- surroundings of1 #ecg ,ultramontane party1 #ia ,undisciplined writer1 to an1 #hj ,united ,states1 influence of newspapers1 #dhf ,unknown element of all problems1 #ahh ,unproductive class1 the1 #ddd ,utility1 moral1 of culture1 #aja ,valvdre1 extract from1 #cai ,variety of labor for children1 #dhb ,various pursuits1 objection to1 #aad ,vathek1 written at a single sitting1 #bf -- author of1 #baf ,vatican1 council of1 #abg ,vinci1 ,leonardo da1 education of1 #agb ,waiting for inspiration1 #ddi ,want hinders intellectual pursuits1 #bca ,warsaw1 monument to ,copernicus1 #bfa ,wealth1 double temptation of1 #bah -- an obstacle to labor1 #bai -- inordinate respect for1 #ejb ,werther indicative of ,goethe's ennui1 #dbh ,westmorland1 ,lady1 letter to ,robert ,lytton1 #bfg ,why men choose their wives1 #bib ,wine1 use of1 #ce ,wives of ,french professors1 #bid ,women and marriage1 #bhe -- how they help men1 #big -- incapacity for solitary mental labor1 #cjb -- intellectual nature of1 #cjf -- absence of scientific curiosity1 #cjh -- rarity of invention among1 #caj -- lack inherent force for advance1 #caa -- do not hear the truth from men1 #ccj -- conversation of1 #cbe ,wordsworth1 love of pedestrian excursions1 #ea -- failure as a ,london journalist1 #bcb -- happy results of a legacy1 #bcb -- advice to tourists1 #bhh ,work1 systematic arrangement desirable1 #dgh ,work1 article in ,cornhill ,magazine1 #dhj ,world recognizes performance only1 #ejj ,woepke1 ,franz1 remarkable extent of studies1 #ajc -- mathematician and orientalist1 #bbc -- pension of ,italian prince1 #bbc ,writing against time1 #bji -- as a profession1 #eji ,young men careless of longevity1 #fe