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Barber Shop

VOL. XXXII.

Novel Reading.

Novels are sweet. All people with healthy literary appetites love them; almost all women; a vast number of clever, hardheaded men. Judges, bishops, chancellors, mathematicians, are notorious novel readers, as well as young boys and girls, and their kind, tender mothers.-Thackeray: Roundabout Papers.

GNORANCE of the art of reading, one of the most effectual barriers to culture, is gradually but surely vanishing. With the advent of the schoolmaster in even the most barbaric countries, with the universal diffusion of liberal education, this allefficacious channel of communication-reading-is everywhere opening to the commons; far different from bygone days, when only the learned and professional could extract the honey from books, and when wealth or strong, individual energy were the only entries to scholarship. As a natural sequel to these circumstances there has arisen a great demand for reading matter, but, strange to say, the supply far exceeds the demand.

Now, what division of literature is the reading public pleased to make its particular Mecca? If, in a curious mood, you should peep over the shoulder of the average reader you would be pretty sure to find the object of his or her attention to be neither history, philosophy nor poetry, but a member of that branch of letters which is denominated the novel. One finds it everywhere. Astonished at the unwonted silence in the study of a comrade, one discovers him to be whiling away his time with a novel in his hand, his text-books piled up in a faraway corner. Enter a store at the noon hour-the clerk is assiduously devoting the residue of her lunch-time to "the latest" in its own particular class. Even amid the bustle and confusion of a crowded street, seated in the trolley, sentimental maids, both young and old, may be seen, oblivious of everything but the papercovered object of their affections. From this remarkable and up-to-date fact one can realize the influence an instrument of this description can wield for the refinement or deterioration of the public.

It is unnecessary to dwell long on the origin and development of the novel. Everyone is interested or amused by a story. Its existence was probably initiated with the first meeting of Adam and Eve, and as long as love and adventure attract us it will be popular. Millions of stories have been told and forgotten and born again since the beginning of the world. Of course, their charact r was gradually changed and improved in the lapse of centuries, but it was not until modern times that a decided alteration was noticeable. With the coming to power of the strict Puritans in England, during the reign of William of Orange, the drama, which had seen such

No. 9.

a remarkable revival under Elizabeth and the Stuarts, was frowned down by these stern fanatics, though not without cause. With their decline, however, the want

of the public had to be again supplied with a fictitious narrative, which, doubtless, imbibed much of the spirit of the drama. More of conversation was introduced in the prosy narrative, more opportunity was given, and greater endeavor employed, to bring out peculiarities of character. From the conjunction of the tale and the drama the modern novel was evolved.

Novels are of various classes-philosophical, ethical, political, etc., but the two principal divisions are the one which treats of every-day life, and that which is descriptive of, or strongly related to, some historical epoch. The former generally deals with the present, and reminds us a little more vividly of our own experience than the other, and is more instructive in the ways of current society. The latter, as a rule, treats of the past, and, from its circumstances, is much more liable to receive a strong romantic coloring. The historical novel, when accurate in fact and truthful in its reflection of the epoch, is probably the more instructive, for it combines almost all the excellence of the former with its own peculiar advantages.

In fact, it is well to remark that the value of the novel as a direct or indirect teacher of history is invaluable. In its best form it gives a charm to the latter ofttimes prosaic study which those whose imaginations are limited could not elsewhere experience. We read the book, become deeply interested in the lives of the characters, feel the spirit of the period, and are immediately possessed by a curiosity to compare its statements with those of the plain history, and the coloring and vividness is tranferred from the story to the bare chronicle of facts. Who, after reading that superb romance, "Ivanhoe," does not instantly become deeply interested in the state of England at that period, the feudal system, the relation between Saxon and Norman, and, above all, those wonderful crusades, with their clinging overgrowth of romance and story.

Of course, in speaking of such novels, we mean good ones, not those silly, trashy things which are as numerous and as sapless as the leaves of autumn, either with or without their gorgeous tinting. First and foremost, in order to be good, the novel should have an underlying purpose, a good and pure purpose, uninfluenced by those two evil genii, avarice and desire of notoriety. Quackenbos expresses it fully when he declares the legitimate aim of fiction should be to instruct, to please, to ennoble. The first of these should be the predominant motive. It is needless to say that the instruction imparted should be in the line of virtue. Without its being so there would be but little possibility of ennoblement resulting. bility of ennoblement resulting. To elevate, while

always within the limits of probability and our conception of life, it should have a halo of idealism clinging about it, and never be so extreme in its realism as to infringe on decency. If it be a true mirror of life it should, according to all experience, portray the tranquility of virtue and the wretchedness of

vice.

Again, in our human weakness, no one seems to have a very great love for a story in which pleasure is not a strong element. A good novel should be the result of most painstaking labor, yet the diction should flow so smoothly that no evidence of the labor may be apparent. It should open its beauty to the intelligence as Raphael's mosaics do the eye, no flaw to distract or to jar harshly on the sensibilities. A judicious distribution of striking incidents should be employed, the description fresh and free from tediousness and great attention should be devoted to the delineation of character, a most important factor. A novel replete with such distinctive marks will successfully stand the test of dramatization.

With a moment's reflection it is easy to trace the cause of the novel's popularity. Every ordinary mortal has at least some craving after knowledge. It is also of intense gratification to us if the goal can be reached without the appalling spectre of hard work to darken the march toward attainment. Without doubt it is this feeling, together with that overpowering desire for recreation and forgetfulness of care that endear it to public favor. Besides, no one has greater opportunity to tickle the mental palate than a novel ist. He can mingle the most side-splitting drollery with the deepest pathos; he can allow us to listen to the conversation of the most cultured and refined; his descriptions can assume the dignity of a stately prose poem and touch upon the loftiest heights of the sublime and beaut ful. Withal he can give us a lesson in politics, influence us to a better moral life, or inculcate principles of philosophy.

Yet, with all their advantages, one should devote but a small proportion of time in perusal of a novel. Its principal source of popularity bears with it one of the most evil effects. Alas! that it should be, but it is even so. Bear in mind what Coleridge says: "It cannot but be injurious to the human mind never to be called into effort. The habit of receiving pleasure. without any exertion of thought, by the mere excitement of curiosity and sensibility, may be justly ranked among the worst effects of novel reading."

It is really wearisome to have to listen to a person boasting about the number of fictions he has read. It isn't going to avail one much to read a carload of books in a very short time, or to try and establish a record in getting through a "Kenilworth " or a "Vanity Fair." Such reading may give one a vast amount of superficial knowledge, in all likelihood will make. one ridiculously vain, but will add little to one's mental depth. Of course, it is difficult, if one is ambitious, to be both a day and night dreamer. But if a person desires to be sensible he should read but few novels, those the best, and calculated to arouse reflection.

A good remedy for this is to confine oneself to the best. It is a very foolish fault, arising partly from the myriad of novels scattered about, to pick up and

read a book at random without making the slightest inquiry as to its pretensions to merit. Now, time is very, very short, and should be utilized in the best manner possible. Among the thousands of books in circulation it should always be remembered that, while there are some books which are good, there are others which are better. Only the cream of literature should be selected, nor should it be lapped up at once, with the greed of a kitten. To familiarize oneself with the classics a standard literature should be selected and read over carefully, and then a person will not only be able to use discrimination in selecting books, but will be enabled to converse intelligently with people of culture.

Another thing which we should bear in mind as a mot've to read only the best novels, is that there is an unconscious impression ingrained in our minds as the result of our reading, of which we do not always take note. We seldom notice the constant growth of a wayside flower, though we pass it day after day. The nightly dew freshens it. and it buds into maturity. Each successive morning the ki-ses of the sunbean.s bring a deeper blush to its upturned face. And we are suddenly surprised and delighted at beholding it in full bloom. It is the same with ourselves. A good story forces the soul to expand. With repeated touches the result will be evident. In the contem¡ lation of virtuous and noble characters there is an impulse toward emulation implanted in both heart and intellect, which leads us onward and upward. Al that is necessary is energy and perseverance to bring such seeds to fruition.

In the delineation we often see pictured the very faults of which we are ourselves guilty, and are amazed at the appearance of such conduct contrasted with virtue, having opportunity then to realize that wish of Burus:

"O wad some power the giftie 'd gie us

To see oursel's as ithers see us."

We can learn, accordingly, every new lesson, until we accomplish a close approach to the ideal, and if we do so our gratitude belongs to the novelist.

Winter.

J. J. B.

O different classes of men winter presents a different aspect. Upon the different classes of men winter has a different effect. Circumstances which have placed men where they are certainly have most to do with this effect. Still, for that matter, every season of the year presents its own peculiar aspect, and has its own peculiar effect upon the classes.

In the world of wealthdom winter is a most fascinating season. It is usually given up to pleasure, to gayeties, to enjoyments of all kinds. During the sum