The Cecil Whig., 1873-11-15
FICTITIOUS LITERATURE.
BY JOHN A. CALHOUN.

IKE,
BY JOHN A. CALHOUN.
! READ BEFORE THE TEACHERS ASSOCIATION
AT THE OCTOBER MEETING.
| The student of history, unless his cred
ulity be beyond that of ordinary mertals,
must inevitably drift into skepticsm.-
There can be no middle ground, he must
either reject everything not proved or
accept the widest statements of historical
romances as unquestionable facts. The
reader of fiction is not reduced to any
such alternative, the statements he reads
are not designed as statements of facts
but as pictures of what may be. Motley
| makes the assertion that the reader of fic-
ton is much more likely to get the truth,
than the student of history: as in one case
the impression made is less than may be
true, while in the other it is almost GER
tain to be more than the truth. This idea
has its truth proved by the distorted shape
current public events assume in the hands of
ed on its way through the world is immor-
tai, like the old story OF the three crows
getting little larger with each repetition.
We live in an age when mental activity
is unusually great, and falsehoods have an
unusual facility for growth and perpetual
| ton. The story of Mrs. O'Lary's COW is
in place here. The report of her incen-
diary propensities has been absolutely and
repeatedly denied by those best able to
know, but for all this, that wild imagining
Of some reporters brain is in history never
to be erased.
The Cabling geese that saved the cita-
del of Rome when Brunus and his Gauls
were hammering at the gates, have been
handed down along the dim avenues of
more than twenty centuries, yet there is
reason to doubt their ever having existed.
| They are said to have been sacred; they
have certainly become immortal. 1t is a
curious speculation what the historian of
the year 5073 will make out of the COW
that is supposed to have emulated the
example of ''the ambitious youth who fired
the Ephesian dome.' Fancy some 50th
century, Froude telling the story of the
sacred COW in a temple in Chicago-but |
will forbear; you can supply the rest, bear
ing in mind the fact that history repeats
itself.
Every school boy has had the story of
% 0f II
drummed into his ears until many Of them
believe it. My impression from the first
has been, that Smith was green to allow
Rolfe to carry off the Indian princess, and
die bachelor himself; and that opinion
was confirmed when ! learned that some
| industrious deliver among the old Virginia
records had unearthed the fact that Rolfe
left a wife too good for him at home, be-
fore making a dupe of Pocohontas; but as
Smith invented the story of his capture
and rescue, he no doubt told it to suit him
self, supposing. it is probable, that coming
years would bring his magnanimity in
allowing another man to run off with the
lady, a just reward.
Mark Twain deserves a vote of thanks
from all intelligent people for having ridi-
culed the story of George Washington and
his hatchet out of existence, for if not dead
it is in the last stage of decline.
The facts of the life of Mary, Queen of
Scots, is perhaps as familiar proof of the
uureliance of history as any that can be
| h. Lab
discussions of Lingard, Hallam, or Froude,
without asking with PLATE, "What is
| truth - Is there such a thing in the world
of history? when able, conscientious men
come to such opposite conclusions from the
same facts: The truth is that this is one
Of class of questions that our prejudices
will not allow US to decide fairly. An
intelligent Mohammedan might tell the
story impartially: no Englishman or Amer
lean can, until the time comes when in the
providence of God both Romanism and
Professionalism shall be gathered home to
the abode of dead religions.
| make these remarks merely to show
the want of certainty accepted history may
show. In the realm of fiction there is no
such uncertainty, the characters are imag-
mary, the facts are. or should be. just such
as we meet in the busy world of action
around rs. Just here | would make the
distinction between two classes of fiction,
one of which paints life as it really exists,
the other of which instead of showing us
the actual facts Of life, the wants and
wishes of the great humanity of which we
form part deals in distorted pictures of
the sentiments and character that cannot
fail to be positively injurious. Miss Ara
minta Jones. who rises at 10, mopes over
some sensational novel and scolds the serv-
ants, until what little space in her brain is
left by her round of parties, is crammed
full of nonsense about handsome young
men carrying off their hearts idols in
leaky boats or fighting on against a dozen
for their preservation, is just about as fit
to form true ideas of the world of which
she forms part. rs the oyster safely
housed in its shell, is to give an idea of the
great ocean that rolls over its briny home.
/ The heroes of the class she admires are all
handsome and rich-the less said about
their morals the Letter-but Araminta
with Der Train as mnch cramped as her
waist must be, if she is in the fashion, is
not capable of making the distinction, SO