Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1886-07-29
Natural Selection in Literature.

One Of the minor regrets which the
observer of contemporary literature
must feel in view of the fact that he
will not be alive hundred years hence
is that he cannot know what is to be-
come of all the estimable books which
the press is now pouring out. If he is
himself an author, he knows that his
own books must at least perish in the
second glacial epoch; and he cannot
help the foreboding that much besides
which is excellent and much which is
beautiful will be lost before that time in
the mere excess of beauty and excellence.
The greatest excellence and the greatest
beauty are still perhaps as rare as in the
past, but we think that the literary aV+
erage is In some ways higher than ever
it was. More honest and faithful and
skilful work is done, and more of it. The
penetrating spirit of democracy has
found its expression in the very quality
of literature; the old oligarchic republic
of letters is passing; already we have
glimpses of the Commune. If the reader
has noted the optimistic tone of these
essays be will conceive that we are not
wholly dismayed at the prospect, and
that we find consolation in recognizing
what seems good now, when the difficult
business of foreeasting its future per-
plexes and saddens. Our chief concern
is that we cannot recognize all the good
there is in all the books that come to US;
but if the public will keep our secret, we
will confess that we believe this will
have very little to do with their destiny.
The fttest, in literature as in everything
else, will survive, as it has always done;
and for all our confident air in saying
this is well and that is i'll, we understand
perfectly that we are not dealing final
doom. We are saying what our expert
ence of literature and life has persuaded
US is the truth; but these books are also
the expression of literature and of life,
and we will confess again, if again the
public will keep our secret, that some+
times the erudest expression in that sort
seems better than the finest comment
upon it. We have sometimes suspected
that more thinking, more feeling cer-
tainly, goes to the creation of poor
novel than to the production of bril-
liant criticism; and if any novel Of our
time fails to live a hundred years, will
any censure of it live? Who can endure
to read old reviews? One can hardly
read them if they are in praise Of ones
own books. 1t is not, then, with Who'll
ly impersonal. .psng. dearly beloved broth
er immortals, that we sit here in our
Study sorrowfully regarding your null
titude, and miSgiving which of you shall
survive. You cannot all, that is certain;
and more and more pensively we per-
ceive that it is not absolutely for US to
say which; but to use what patience we
may if the poets, the historians, the nOv-
elists, the essayists, are not able to keep
their number within bounds. 1t is vain,
at any rate, to preach MalthusianiSm to
them, and we willingly relinquish to the
reader the problem of their future, If,
as seems very likely, they should multi'
ply rather than decrease. 1t is already
quite impossible to do more than touch
literature at few points.
to speak of what seems characteristic, or
what seems promising; but the author
neglected or overlooked need not despair
for that reason. if he will reflect that
can neither make nor unmake
authors; that there have not been great
Or books since criticism became an art
than there were before; that in fact the
greatest books seem to have come much
,arlier.-W. D. Howells,in Harper's Mag
lzine for August.