And
here, too, is the result, not poetic, of how much thought, how much
experience, and how much suffering of wise and cultivated men! How
can we in America expect books of our own, whilst this bale of wisdom
arrives once or twice in a month at our ports?
In this mind we open the books, and begin to read. We find
they are books about books; and then perhaps the book criticized was
itself a compilation or digest of others; so that the page we read is
at third or fourth hand from the event or sentiment which it
describes. Then we find that much the largest proportion of the
pages relates exclusively to matter of fact -- to the superficial
fact, and, as if systematically, shuns any reference to a thought or
law which the fact indicated. A large part again, both of the prose
and verse, is gleanings from old compositions, and the oft repeated
praise of such is repeated in the phrase of the present day. We have
even the mortification to find one more deduction still from our
anticipated prize, namely, that a large portion of ostentatious
criticism is merely a hired advertisement of the great booksellers.
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