Text: C. F. Briggs (?), Literary, Broadway Journal (New York), February 1, 1845, vol. 1, no. 5, p. ??

[page 65, unnumbered:]

REVIEWS.

A COURSE OF ENGLISH READING, adapted to every taste and capacity, with Anecdotes of Men of Genius. By the Rev. James Pycroft, B.A., with additions by J. G. Coggswell. New York, Wiley & Putnam, 1845.

“MISS JANE C.,” says Mr. Pycroft, in his preface, “divided her in-door hours into three parts: the house-keeping and dinner-ordering cares of life, claimed one part; hearing two younger sisters say their lessons, a second part; and during the third,. and most delightful remainder, she would lock herself up in her bed-room, and move on the marker of Russell's ‘Modern Europe,’ at the rate of never less than fifteen pages an hour, and sometimes more.”

It was to cure this unfortunate person of her strange mania, that Mr. Pycroft composed the book which we have before us. He tells us that the remedy worked well, and the lady was cured of her disorder. But it strikes our mind that a course of medical treatment would have been the safer experiment in such a case. Mr. Pycroft, however, knew his patient, and it appears that he prescribed wisely; but as such cases must be exceedingly rare, we do not discover any very good reason for his publishing his remedy, for so peculiar a disease. The disease, fortunately has never reached this country, to our knowledge, excepting of the type Henry Russell, which was quite a different complaint.

Mr. Coggswell has added a preface to the present edition, as well as an appendix, in which the work is highly commended, and being a scholar of extensive and varied book-knowledge, his opinion upon such a subject, must not be lightly regarded. But, to make use of a refined vulgarism, our own view of the work must be taken from our own point of observation, we cannot pretend to view it from the same altitude with the learned editor.

The utmost that can be done in such an attempt as this of Mr. Pycroft's, is to recommend such books as have come under one's own observation; and as any one man's observation of general knowledge, must be extremely limited, when compared with the necessities of the human mind, and his ability to judge critically of the fitness of a work to meet the cravings of particular classes, still narrower; it is very clear that his labors will be of little benefit to any but those whose necessities are the same as his own. The few words of wisdom to be written on the subject of general reading might be inscribed on your thumb nail. Read only such works as give you pleasure. This, it is true, is the burthen of our author's instructions; but it is so overlaid with gossip of one kind and another, that the novice who reads the book for information, will be very likely to miss it entirely. His ideas of the worth of historical writings are very admirable, but his recommendations of particular works are of no worth. Hume, Smollett, Keightly, Robertson, and Gibbon, are his staples, and they probably form the staples of the majority in this country, who flatter themselves that they are studying history, when they are poring over the wordy pages of these writers. The great defect of the book is the lack of general principles, [column 2:] in the place of which we have particular instructions. But there is much sound sense distributed through the work, which appears to less advantage for want of a proper arrangement. There are many pious mothers, who would sooner see their sons wasting their time in listless idleness, or engaged in entertaining their guests at an evening party with the most wearisome of small talk, than in reading a novel, though it were Caleb Williams, or the Golden Ass of Apuleius. But, Mr. Pycroft says with truth:

How differently do our fathers and merchants generally reason in regard to young men placed under their care. It is almost an universal prejudice among merchants, that books are unbecoming to business men. In a very large wholesale dry goods establishment, in this city, the principal of which was a rigidly pious man, whenever one of the clerks was discovered with a book in his hand, in an interval of business, he was immediately sent on some idle errand, or some unnecessary work as a punishment. Clerks who employ their leisure hours in study, very rarely, if ever, become defaulters. But the greatest number of these unfortunates have either been the gay and dashing, who seek for amusement in theatres and ball-rooms, or the sternly pious, whose source of excitement has been found in religious assemblies.

Mr. Pycroft's “plan” for studying any particular subject is very good, but the “course” of study recommended by him, must be objectionable, because he reasons from his own tastes, while he recommends that others should follow theirs.

“And for the study of History, which I will consider under the following divisions:

“Divide and conquer, that is, choose one department and master it, and you will have accomplished, in point of time and labor, much more than a sixth part of the whole. You would do well to read the lists of books in all these departments, before you decide. For your decision should be deemed irrevocable, otherwise you will be continually changing, in a vain hope of escaping difficulties which really attach to all.”

This is the main principle of the plan in every department of study, to divide off, and master a portion at a time, and not attempt to grasp an entire study at once. A very judicious, [page 66:] and obviously necessary course, such as would naturally be followed by any student who had a serious wish to become tolerably well acquainted with any department of learning.

The part of the book which relates to the translation of the classics is well entitled to consideration. He candidly and honestly admits that it is better to read Plutarch and Xenophon, in the English translations, than in the original, for the reason that they can be comprehended with greater ease and mastered in less time.

“The first thing to consider is, for what purpose are you commencing a course of study. if to humor a literary ambition, to be thought learned, and to excite the wonder of the ignorant, believe me, that till you abandon this vile and degrading purpose, your vanity will increase faster than your learning; what you gain in head you will lose in heart; your mind will be tilled, but not refined; and you will excite far more jealousy than admiration. Read, as Bacon said, for the glory of your Creator, and for the relief of man's estate, to improve your talents for the race that is set before you, to prevent that periodical void within, which is doomed to fill, and that with gnawing cares, and soul debasing thoughts. That is true of our faculties. which an old officer told me of his men, that there was no ouch security for good behaviour as active service.” * * * “Among the many who desire to be thought literary characters, nothing is more common than an inclination to lock up the temple of knowledge, and throw away the key; or, on attaining an eminence, to kick away the ladder, that none may follow them. So beware of this class of literary impostors; their life is one continued lie; a lie partly positive, because they pretend to know far more than they do know; and partly a lie in direct, but far more mischievous, because they seek to magnify difficulties, hint that things are not so easy as they seem, and pretend that a peculiar talent is re-gaffed for their favorite subjects. In every department of knowledge, the man really proficient, is ever desirous to lead others on; and forgetting all the difficulties to be encountered, firmly believes, and as honestly confesses, he could teach his friends in half the time his learning cost himself.”

These extracts prove the author a sincere honest man, one in whom you can trust as far as his own knowledge extends; and if he had confined himself simply to the course of reading which he had mastered himself, his book would have been twice as valuable as it now is, when, according to his own account, for much that he has recommended, he has depended upon the advice of others.

In the department of art, where every one thinks it necessary to dabble, though he be profoundly and willingly ignorant of every thing else, he gropes his way like a blind man on a strange road. He stands like Bartimeus in Raffaelle's Cartoon, feeling for something tangible, but missing it. The famous writers in art are very few, and among these few, those who can be read with profit, form but a very inconsiderable part. Mr. Pycroft recommends the whole, which is certainly safe, though it would have been safer to recommend none.

The Lectures of Sir Joshua Reynolds we may expect, as a matter of course, to stand first on the list of an Englishman's enumeration of readable works on Art. But the discourses of Sir Joshua, though very agreeable reading, are pervaded by errors in principle, which render them among the most dangerous books that can be placed in the hands of a neophyte. He is a popular author still, though his countrymen have begun to say that he was great in practice in spite of his errors in theory. Hazlitt is recommended as well as Sir Joshua, but his principles in criticism are the antipodes of the theories of Sir Joshua. Unless the reader have sufficient knowledge to perceive the truth himself, he would be completely bewildered by such conflicting systems. Allan Cunningham, who has contrived to imitate all that is bad in both of these writers, without mingling in their faults any good of his own, is also recommended by Mr. Pycroft. In short, he includes in his catalogue everybody who has written on Art excepting Leonardo and Lanzi. In his list of architectural works he has omitted two of the best of modern [column 2:] times — Hope's Essay and Gwilt's Cyclopœdia. But his remarks on this subject are exceedingly brief, and prove that he felt but little interest in it. He would have acted more judiciously in letting it alone altogether. The space devoted to Biblical Literature is very ample, as might have been expected in a book of this kind from a clergyman.

His directions on the study of poetry and works of taste, are very curious. Johnson's Lives is recommended as a handbook or guide to the poets.

This is strange company to find Swift in; and the others, excepting Prior and Gay, would probably be as much astonished at being associated with him, as he with them. Mr. Pycroft, of course, has never read a line of Swift, or he would have shown better discrimination. If there is any book in the English language sure of immortality, it is the Tale of a Tub. But we should think it was too solid food for the digestion of Mr. Pycroft, who seems to have a strange craving for flummery.

“Shakspeare no one should ever cease reading: begin with the tragedies.”

We wish that Mr. Pycroft had given some reason why readers of Shakspeare should begin with the tragedies, or what series of the tragedies, whether Titus Andronicus and Pericles, or King John and Richard the Second; and it would not have been amiss in giving so peremptory an order as to never cease reading an author, to state why he should be read at all. There is little need of directing any English reader to Shakspeare, yet we have known men who confessed that they read him, as a duty, but could not take any pleasure in him. There can be no such thing as a universal directory in study. Byron found Milton heavy, and Cobbett made Shakspeare the butt of his irony. To name so humble an instance as ourselves, after these illustrious names, may sound absurdly, but no one is too humble to illustrate a principle; we never could get through with a tithe of Robinson Crusoe, perhaps the most universally read book in the language. Many an idle hour have we loitered away in our summer days with Dr. Doddridge or one of the dramatists of Charles the Second's time, but we never could get up an intimacy with Robinson Crusoe.

Among the works on America which Mr. Pycroft recommends, are Mrs. Butler, Mrs. Trollope, Miss Martineau. Captain Hall, Dickens, and Sydney Smith. Why he should omit Marryatt and Hamilton, is not easy to discern. The works of American authors which he recommends, are very few. Anthon's Lempriere, Catlin's Notes on the Indians, Two Years Before the Mast, and Stuart's Letters to Dr. Channing, are all.

Mr. Coggswell, in his Appendix, fills up the deficiencies of the author with a liberal hand. He adds every work that has ever been heard of on the subject of America, excepting one, which he had not, probably, heard of himself. This is an account in La Mosaique de L’Quest, of the discovery of this continent by a Norman navigator, who landed at the mouth of the Amazon, in 1488, four years prior to the discovery by Columbus. This navigator was a native of Dieppe, named Cousin, from which port he sailed on a voyage of discovery, fitted out by the merchants of his nation, whom he had persuaded to engage in the undertaking, upon representations similar to those which Columbus had made to his patrons. Among the adventurers who accompanied Cousin was a boatswain, or mate, contra-maitre, named Vincent Pinzon, who [page 67:] quarrelled with his commander, and afterwards was one of the most sanguine of those who seconded the endeavors of Columbus, as is well known. A very satisfactory library might be formed out of the works which neither Mr. Pycroft nor Mr. Coggswell have alluded to.

His notes on the poets are highly amusing.

“Of Addison — read Cato, and Psalm 23.” This differs widely from Dr. Blair's advice, “Give your days and nights to Addison.”

“Of Pope — the Essay on Criticism, and the Dunciad, show that Pope could write as strong lines as any writer.” Pope was strong in the Dunciad, among poets, in the same sense that the skunk is strong among animals.

“Of Coleridge — like Shelley and others of the same school, he often failed in the single step which would have attained to the sublime, and therefore their writings seem to remain in the regions of the ridiculous.” Here is a very common error among thoughtless writers. The step from the sublime to the ridiculous, is the step downwards — not from the ridiculous to the sublime. One may fall in a moment from a height which he has been all day in reaching, but no one ever fell upward by a false step.

The book is published in a very handsome manner, and but for the leaden tint of the ink, would look like an English edition.