New-York tribune., 1872-12-05
LITERARY MEN ON LITERARY =oRK.

n late number OF the fOrS Ctdciger6 upon lite
7 rary style, and specially upon his own, have
Z reminded an English newspaper that not long
r ago Mr.. Froude and Mr. Lowe, both illus
h " trious examples of the benefit of Uni
Z " versity training, were running about the
country sneering at culture in general, and
" their own alma mater, Oxford in particular"
B We see nothing astonishing in this. Probably
y no man who has entered upon an active literary,
Il political, or professional career, and has
< achieved honor or distinction in any of what,
Z for the sake Of convenience, we may designate
X as the liberal callings, ever looks back upon
& his college days with much eQuanimty. He
Z does not despise his dear mother, but unless
b he be scholastic, pedantic, and petty in all his
\ ways, be does not regard her with superfluous
y flia picty. He may be ready to admit that
Z under embarrassing circumstances she did her
Z best by him, but he knows that his real train
: ing only began when, with due commencement
( ceremonies, he had betallen himself from the
I shadow OF the academic groves. ANY col
4 lege system prcsuppOses students willing
/ to work, and this is just what a ma
jority of young men are not willing
4 to do. The Faculties are compelled TO deal
with classes in the aggregate, and so to ar
n range the curriculum as TO secure an average
4 responsibility of study. To accomplish this 1t
is evident that the highest standard of schol-
A arship must, in the very beginning, be abaD-
4 doned Thus it is that the finest youthful
A minds in a college are always at extra work
outside the prescribed course. The second class,
y consisting Of those who are usually designated
as "digsD content themselves with attaining
4 the highest standard Of college scholarship.
Z A third class shambes along in a shabby way
d and gets its degrees by the special grace
either of God or the Faculty. After all, as
colleges are at present conducted, everything
depends upon the man. The secret of surely
stimulating students in the mass has not yet
been discovered, and it probably never will be.
But there is another branch of the subject,
| which Mr.. Ruskin's rather savage criticism of
| his own early style has brought into notice.
J 1t is discovered that many eminent literary
men hold their own order in contemplating
! Mr. Carlyle, for instance, "is never tired of
: "hOlding forth on the usclessness of the lit
/ "erary class and of the inferiority of men Of
I words to men of deeds" So Mr. Ruskin
/ says that when he wrote "Modem Painters"
and "The Stones of Venice" people were fools
/ for admiring him; "now," he adds, "they say
81 can't write at all, because, for
81 instance,
sis on fire. | only say, Sir, your house is on
fire; : whereas formerly used to say, Sir,
the abode in which you probably passed the
/ "' delightful days of your youth is in state
4 90 of inflammation and everybody used to
" like the effect of the two p's in probably
passed and of the two DIS in delightful
"days.'" All this is amusing, and to GER
3 tain extent it is just, and may be instructive
-t,N fn l,a MT pA
against verbosity, bad taste, and atlcctation;
! but it is still pretty certain that the writer
4 who desires to be read cannot altogether afford
4 to discard the graces of composition. Ii Mr..
Ruskin pleases to walk about naked, is that
7 any reason why the rest of mankind
4 should cease to care for coats and
pantaloons9 When the talk is merely OF farm
4 ing, tits well enough to call Il spade a spade;
K but when we are to exercise the fancy ami the
y Imagination, why should not the style have
] something in it akin to the grandeur Of its
/ subject Mr.. Ruskin was at one time of his life
I in love with Turner's pictures-would he have
1 admired them as much if they had all been
sketches in black and whiteP The writings OF
4 Jeremy Taylor have excited the admiration
many generations fascinated by their ornate
I and sumptuOus splendOr-wOuld Nj. Ruskin
i like them better if they could be subjected
! to some bleaching process, and all the
d thoughts reduced to a shverlnS and shaking
4 nahednessq Again, is it not strange to find
8 Mr.. Carlyle preaching about "tae m.eriority
Z " OF men of words to men OF deeds" wheu Mr.
Carly lie has been writing all his life, is emphati
q cally a man OF words, and sometimes OF ezra
I ordinary words, and has never to oar ilnOwl-
/ edge "dOne" anything, in the strict sense Of
I the verb 7 And if we come to consider
specially the status of the literary class, it
really does not seem TO us, with ali its f0bles
4 to be contemptible There is, OF course, a
great deal of writing for the sake OF writing,
1 and there always will be- whilo the amuse-
4 ment of reading is in vogue; but, after all, is
4 reading as an amusement SO very much TO rpe
y censurcd2 Compared with many other recrea-
/ tiOns which we have agreed TO consider HARM
I less, if not dignifcd, reading rises into an
4 elegant pursuit.
K OF course, we are not talking Of the highest
4 kind OF literature, and neither, we suppose,
& Mr.. RuSkn or Mr. Carlyle. Thc demand for
Z books exists as well as for ma agaziaes and
4 newspapers, and there must be a literary class
\ to supply it, WelI-educJted men and women
n with such ability as 1t mas pleased uleir
Z Creator to endow them withai, turn out great
d quantities of manufactured books, most Of
h which, we are happy TO think, are at least
4 harmless. We do nOU say that this kind OF
y industry is OF the MOST dIgnied cAe.IIC,,r; Al
X we come to that, no industry h.s much
y dignity but We do assert tnaC tAcSc book
= wrigAts of ether sex, 50 they b. ClJs,c aud