poets must be more or less in dispute; and he alone has any claim to venture on a prediction, as to which shall be immortal and which ephemeral, who has cultivated his imagination by thoughtful communion with the great poets of former centuries. Let him, who is quick to condemn, or slow to admire, ask whether the fault may not be in himself:-it may be the caprice or the apathy of uncultivated taste: he, and he alone, whose capacity of admiration has grown by culture ample enough to know and to feel the power of the poetry of the past, is qualified to speak in judgment of the poetry of the present. That this or that poem pleases him, who knows the present only, proves nothing: but he, whose imagination responds to the Chaucer of the fourteenth century, the Spenser and Shakespeare of the sixteenth, and the Milton of the seventeenth century, can see truly the poets of the nineteenth century, foreknowing which light shall pass away like a conflagration or a meteor, and which is beginning a perpetual planetary motion with the great lights of all ages.

I have spoken of the value of acquaintance with the literature of different eras, and the influence is reciprocal—the earlier upon the later, and the later upon the earlier. But with regard to the elder literature, there is an agency for good in the added sentiment of reverence. The mind bows, or ought to bow to it, as to age with its crown of glory. It is as salutary as for the youthful to withdraw for a season from the companionship of their peers, and to sit at the feet of the old, listening in reverential silence. In the elder literature, the perishable has passed away, and that is left which has put on its immortality.

A true catholicity of taste in our intercourse with books is in danger of being counteracted not only by the incessant and clamorous demand which the current literature makes upon us, but also by the impulses which we may be exposed to in consequence of our individual pursuits and personal positions. This point has been wisely touched in a passage, which I would commend to the reflection of every one, in the recent volume of that thoughtful book, "Friends in Council"-an admirable specimen of the essay-writing of our day. "There is," it is remarked, "a very refined use which reading is put to; namely, to counteract the particular evils and temptations of our callings, the original imperfections of our characters, the tendencies of our age, or of our own time of life. Those, for instance, who are versed in dull, crabbed work all day, of a kind which is always exercising the logical faculty and demanding minute, not to say, vexatious criticism, would, during their leisure, do wisely to expatiate in writings of a large and imaginative nature. These, however, are often the persons who particularly avoid poetry and works of imagination, whereas they ought to cultivate them most. For it should be one of the frequent objects of every man who cares for the culture of his whole being, to give some exercise to those faculties which are not demanded by his daily occupations and not encouraged by his disposition."*

In order to guard our habits of reading from the narrowing influences, which arise either from outward or inward temptations, it is necessary to cultivate in our choice of books a large variety, remembering, however,

* Henry Taylor: "Friends in Council." Part II., p. 15.

that the variety must be a healthful variety, and not that mere love of change, which, owning no law, is capricious, restless and morbid at once a symptom and a cause of weakness, and not of health. To the mind that cultivates a thoughtful and well-regulated variety in its reading, this reward will come, that, where before, things seemed separate and insulated, beautiful affinities will reveal themselves; you will feel the brotherhood, as it were, that exists among all true books, and a deeper sense of the unity of all real literature, with its infinite variety.

In adjusting a diversified course of reading, we must keep in mind that it is not alone the serious literature which gives us power and wisdom, for Truth is often earnest in its joyousness as in its gravity: and it is a beautiful characteristic of our English literature, that it has never been wanting in the happy compound of pathos and playfulness, which we style by that untranslateable term "Humour"-that kindly perception of the ridiculous which is full of gentleness and sympathy. It is a healthful element: it chastens the dangerous faculty of Wit, turning its envenomed shafts into instruments of healing: it comes from the full heart, and it dwells with charity and love of the pure and the lofty: it holds no fellowship with sarcasm scoffing or ribaldry, which are issues from the hollow or the sickly heart, and are fatal to the sense of reverence and of many of the humanizing affections. A sound humourous literature may be found throughout English language, in prose and verse, from its earliest periods down to our own times,-from Chaucer to Southey and Charles Lamb; and it behooves us to blend it with graver

or

reading, to bring it, like the innocent and happy face of childhood, in the presence of hard-thinking, self-occupied, care-worn, sullen men, a pensive cheerfulness to recreate despondency and dejection. It is, therefore, not only variety, but a cheerful variety, that should be cultivated. "No heart," it has been well said, “would have been strong enough to hold the woe of Lear and Othello, except that which had the unquenchable elasticity of Falstaff and the 'Midsummer Night's Dream.'"'* As in the author, so in the reader-it is the large culture which gives the more equal command of our faculties, whereas if we close up any of the natural resources to the mind, there follows feebleness or disproportioned power, or moodiness and fantastic melancholy, and, in extreme cases, the crazed brain. If the statistics be accurate, it is an appalling fact that in that region of the United States in which the intellect has been stimulated to most activity, insanity prevails to an extent double that in sections of the country less favourably situated. It would seem that the activity of the intellect had been too much tended, and its health too little. It is a common peril of humanity, with all its grades of danger, from the fitfulness of an ill-regulated mind up to the frenzy of the maniac.†

Hare's Guesses at Truth. Part I., p. 319.

This theory was no doubt founded on the assumption that the census statistics of insanity were correct; but my friend, and my brother's friend, Doctor Thomas J. Kirkbride, the superintendent of the Pennsylvania Hospital for the Insane, to whom I showed this passage, says, in a letter now before me :

"It has been shown conclusively that there can be no dependence placed on the census returns, and, except Massachusetts, I know of no state that has instituted inquiries for the special purpose of ascer

There is a short poem of Southey's, which, in this connection, has a sad interest. Having written one of those humourous ballads drawn from his acquaintance with Spanish legendary history, he added an epilogue telling of its impressions on his household audience, especially the wondering and delighted faces of his children: he turns to his wife,

But when I looked at my mistress' face

It was all too grave the while;

And when I ceased, methought there was more

Of reproof than of praise in her smile.

That smile I read aright, for thus
Reprovingly said she,

"Such tales are meet for youthful ears,
But give little content to me.

"From thee far rather would I hear

Some sober, sadder lay

Such as I oft have heard, well pleased,
Before those locks were gray."

"Nay, mistress mine," I made reply,
"The autumn hath its flowers,

Nor ever is the sky more gay

Than in its wintry hours.

taining how many insane are to be found within her limits. Your brother's views correspond with those of most persons who have paid attention to the subject, and are probably correct; but it must also be remembered that there is apparently, at least, most insanity where the largest provision is made for the treatment; for large numbers of cases then come before the public notice which previously had been kept out of observation. New England being a pioneer in providing State Hospitals, the number of insane is better known than in those states which have just commenced the erection of institutions of that character." W. B. R.