St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1888-04-16
AN IMPENDING DANGER.
How Shall Deluge Of Literary Trash
Be Prevented
SOME EVILS POINTED OUT.
An Elegant and Instructive Essay on a
Topic Of Interest to All Lovers Of
Good Literature.

of books has increased in the last few
years has occasioned no little specula-
ton as to what may be the outcome.
The Royal library at London contains
no less than 1,550,000 volumes, besides
$4,000 manuscripts. The stupendous
collection in the Library of Paris is es-
timated at 100000 volumes. In our
own library at Washington, where each
author is required to deposit a copy of
every new book he publishes, the num-
Der of volumes is increasing so rapidly
that shelf room can hardly be found for
the incoming supply.
Evidently certain measures must be
taken to secure the preservation of our
books. But if this remarkable increase
continues, what provisions can be made
to meet the enormous demand? From
one point of view, this rapid increase of
bookmaking may be regarded in ia
vorable light. Genius demands and re-
celyeS public recognition. Authors are
no longer compelled to exc out miser-
able living, as in the days of old. There
are no GOldSmithS shivering in cold at
tics, writing their inspired thoughts in
the light that filters through the mar
row. dirty panes of glass; there are no
ChattertonS spending last penny for
poison, because death is preferable to
starvation; there are no Keats wander
ing to foreign countries, broken in
health and crushed in spirit.
These gloomy times have given place
to the sunshine of just appreciation,
where merit can rightly claim its re-
ward, and where the increasing COM
forts of life minister to the intellectual
needs of our modern people. If genius
is not OF finer order, literary culture
and taste is at least wider spread The
vast amount of modern books, so cheap
as to be within the means of the poor
est, testify to the fact that literature is
no longer luxury, but one of the essen
tials of life. There is, however, an
other feature of the problem which
claims our attention. With this rapidly
increasing number of books, there is
real danger that our libraries
may become the receptacle of bound
less stores OF modern literary trash.
One is almost Overawed, upon entering
ties OF books he sees about him. What
wonder if he eXclaim: ''How can l ever
be wise when there are so many books
to read?" And what is even worse, the
number is increasing daily. New pub
fishing houses are Springing up like
mushrooms all over the country, while
the old ones are turning out new books
by the hundreds. Contracts are fire.
quently made with third-rate authors to
write certain
NUMBER OF BOOKS
year. The country is fairly ueIuged
with literature in all possible FORMS
books, pamphlets, magazines, periodi-
Gals, story papers, for all classes of
society, all phases of life. Our libra
ries are constantly called upon to en-
large their buildings, to extend their
shelf room, that space may be found for
the incoming torrent. The book store
has developed from the simple stalls, in
the days of our grandfathers, into vast
corporations, gigantic monopolies hold
ing sweeping. power within their
hands. We are bound to consider this
question, because we are bound to con
slider the future history of literature,
apd because what we do now
tends to mould this history. Provision
must be made to stem this tide, or the
torrent will whirl us on into vortex.
Nor will it be to discourage literature
that we call for remedy to check the
abnormal increase of books-it will
rather be to preserve it. Ii into clear
pool shall continue to flow discolored
stream, soon must the pool be polluted.
Let us turn aside this stream. purify
and filter it before it shall mix with the
pure, untainted fount.
"Of making books, there is no end;"
we are not far wrong in calling the lat
ter half OF the nineteenth century ''The
Book Age"
Books once written, we are compelled
| to preserve; loyalty demands that.
Many are well worthy of lasting pres
| ervation, but more are not. Literature
must progress; but is it progression
when we increase the quantity of books,
regardless of the quality? Such an in
| crease may carry the seeds of destruc-
| ton with it, and bring us face to face
with an unexpected calamity.
NO GOOD BOOK
is amisS, whatever age produced it,
| whatever people gave it birth. Good
books are still written; many of them
equal to the best of the English classics.
These we must appreciate and honor.
We repudiate the arrogant ped
antry that processes admiration of
every book which smacks of antiquity.
There is too much real genius in our
own times to be cast aside for the in
ferior OF an older age; nor ought we
burden our age with the trash OF an
ready reeking with trash of it's own.
Let us then as freely accord to modern
book its due, as to those we have al
ready given place in our literary his
tory, at the same time denouncing
library trash, whether it emanated
from the Elizabethan era or from the
nineteenth century. Good books we
must and ought to preserve, the pande-
monium of trash must and ought to
cease.
The only way to check this increase
of useless, harmful books is to cause
their publication to cease. This remedy
is simple but effective. If the publica-
ton of such vast quantities of poor lit
erature be curtailed, our libraries will
not be so Oyercrowded, nor the literary
world be so burdened with this hetero-
geneOuS mass of trash. The periodicals
which every week flood the country
with sblood and thunder" stories must
desist: the number of our publishing
houses must be diminished; the literary
world must rest apace upon it's oars,
take breathing spell. or glance
back at the progress already made,
the distance it has trayerSed: it must
peer ahead down the stream along which
the current has rapidly carried us, note
the windings, the eddies, the rapids,
lest we be dashed to pieces upon the
rocks. We have reached that point
where we would do well to pause; we
have had fair winds and easy rowing;
but the current runs Swifter and Swifter
till we are now whirled on at an alarm
ing speed; where, we know not. The
impetuosity of our times, pushing us on
at a maddening rate. affords US no chance
for reflection. Carlyle writes: Like
some Withdrawing, wild-thundering
train of artillery, does this mankind
thunder and flame, in long-drawn, quick
succeeding grandeur, through the I'M
known Deep Andshall we ask with
Carlyle, ''Whither?" Let us rather
pause, look ahead, feel our way, and be
sure of every foot of advance.
How, then, shall we check this flood