| 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 |
| 1 | 22 | 44 | 65 | 87 |
|
his reading of that dogma, and he must supplement and correct his
deductions from it. A human truth, which is always very much a
lie, hides as much of life as it displays. It is men who hold
another truth, or, as it seems to us, perhaps, a dangerous lie, who
can extend our restricted field of knowledge, and rouse our drowsy
consciences. Something that seems quite new, or that seems
insolently false or very dangerous, is the test of a reader. If he
tries to see what it means, what truth excuses it, he has the gift,
and let him read. If he is merely hurt, or offended, or exclaims
upon his author's folly, he had better take to the daily papers; he
will never be a reader.
And here, with the aptest illustrative force, after I have laid
down my part-truth, I must step in with its opposite. For, after
all, we are vessels of a very limited content. Not all men can
read all books; it is only in a chosen few that any man will find
his appointed food; and the fittest lessons are the most palatable,
and make themselves welcome to the mind. A writer learns this
early, and it is his chief support; he goes on unafraid, laying
down the law; and he is sure at heart that most of what he says is
demonstrably false, and much of a mingled strain, and some hurtful,
and very little good for service; but he is sure besides that when
his words fall into the hands of any genuine reader, they will be
weighed and winnowed, and only that which suits will be
assimilated; and when they fall into the hands of one who cannot
intelligently read, they come there quite silent and inarticulate,
5
2
Page
Quick Jump
|