The times. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1890-1903, 1890-06-01
LITER AZURE PAST AND PRESENT.

In earlier times the dedications OF
books were the expressions not so much
of servile fawning as Of genuine loyal
atty. but when literature became more
democratic and less exclusive, dedica-
tions changed from what was pay
ment of a duty. willingly paid ana
counted INTO the service, into currying
favor from one who could give or with
hold at pleasure. But nobler form Of
faithful work, personal modesty, and
professional self respect existed up to
the latter half of the present century.
Then came the New journalism with
all its sensatiOnalisn its rant aud Its
personality and the virtues of the past
became the clogs and letters Of the pre-
sent.
In those days reviewing was dis
tinct branch of the profession. demand
ing certain qualifications as absolutely
essential: and it was done faithfully
without fear or favor. At the present
day the work Of reviewing has fallen
into comparatively few hands. a small
knot of men hold the success or failure
Of many-making or marrlng reputa-
tious according to the word of com
mand and the rights of utilization.
One of the odd things Ut the present
| time is the incOmpetency OF those who
write. Novel writers do not know their
own language, and are often deficit IN
elementary grammar. Critics have
more words than matter. The editors
Of to-day are not always the well-read
scholars their predecss sors were.
Our literature Is too entirely frothy.
Nothing more superficial mas appeared.
Our science is got by reviews, and even
these have been boiled down to the
bare bones.
Some of the young lions of the press
are great interviewers, where also they
are more than tritle offensive. Fancy
Walter Savage Landor on the grid-Iron
of the interviewer. or Sir Walter Scott
or Robert SOuthey. or Wordsworth, oi
even COleridge! In those days when
literature respected itself. no man
would have sent his book unsolicited
TO an influential stranger, or would
have finished with long line OF sub
scribers. Authors do both now a days
They sweep the seas with a net as wide
As that OF hospital, an institution.
money-lender. 1t is part of the mod
ern spirit of blare and buster.
Among the hundreds who write wheI
formerly there was one, there must b,
a large percentage of the incompetent
Cart loads of absolute rubbish are sho
into publishers offices. People who
have nothing to say, and who could not
saw il if they had, dance down the
flowers of rhetoric and upset all order
liz arrangements of syntax-then senC
YOU the result. All their carts go be
fore their horses, and their propositions
are tin-tacked on to the wrong verbs
Their sentences are so many cats-cra
dies, where you seek IN vain for th'
GOVERNING line-the clue. They repro
duce what they read, and warm up thu
stale dish into q still more uDpalatabl'
hash. These impossible manuscript
are. for the most part, grotesque at
tempts at sensationalism or vapid senti
mentalism.
la sensational fiction there is but ont
stem from the sublime TO the ridiculous
That step is 10 wider than the bridge
itself no thicker than q hair, owe
which the true believer passes on IN
way TO heaven. with the pit yawnlne
below. And as many peccant soul
trip. stumble and fall. so do the sensa
tional writers pass over the narrow lin
and plunge headlong into pathos.
In every direction We come to IN
: same patent fact-the need of reorganl
cation in literature. There IS too lltti
good work Of real sound scholarship
and too much worthless froth. Writer
have lost their old relf-respecting. que
dignity. That which was once gray
, and honorable profession has degent
rated into a noisy. pushing. self-advei
tising trade. Literature is not tn
| honorable profession 1t was when pra'
tised bv the learned gentlemen an
scholars of the past generation. and
does not confer the same dignity-b
cause the standard of self-respect ha
. fallen like the standard of qualities
tions.-E. Lynn Lynton in Fortnight