WHO SAID ENGLISH LITERATURE?

Evening Star, Issue 18256, 21 April 1923, Page 2

WHO SAID ENGLISH LITERATURE?

We did. Some time ago we offered a plea fo-r the study of English literature. The time is opportune to bring up the subject again. Last year an association for the study of the ancient classics was formed in Dunedin. At the annual meeting 'held a week or two ago reference was made to its success and to the interest shown by the members —some fifty in all, if we remember rightly—in the masterpieces of Latin and Greek literature. That is very gratifying news for all lovers of literature, ancient and modern, for the latter has its roots in the former, and cannot be appreciated fully without a knowledge of it. An ancient Greek dean, as Mr A. 0. Benson tells in ‘ From A College Window,’ was accustomed to give three reasons for the study of Greek : (1) It enabled you to road the words of the Saviour in the original tongue; (2) it gave you a proper contempt for those who wero ignorant of it; (3) it led to situations of emolument. And Mr Benson’s comment on those reasons is that the first is probably (ho might have omitted the adverb) correct; the second is unchristian; and tho third is a gross motive, which would equally apply to any professional training whatsoever. No doubt tho scholarly gentlemen who have founded the Dunedin Classical Society could easily find better reasons for their venture than tho ancient Dean of Christchurch. A lively Methodist writer, Mr Kelly, tells in his ‘ Reminiscences ’ of a much-tried theological student who said, after ho had got through with his ancient classics, “If the Lord will forgive for the time I spent on Latin and Greek I will promise never again to offend in that direction.” He is not tho only student who has emerged from tho collegiate purgatory with kindred resolves. If tho Classical Society can convert these sinners from tho error of their ways, and create in them and others an interest m tho ancient literature of Greece and Rome, it will havo accomplished much. But while wo wish it all success in its efforts, wo desire once more to renew cur plea for a sympathetic study of our own language and literature.

« * # * It is many years ago since one of the greatest ornaments of our literature— Thomas Do Quincey—-made a passionate protest against the “contemptuous indifference ” to our own language and literature manifested in the public schools and universities of England. He speaks of tho “ neglect that seems almost brutal to enrol it mighty charts, though pleading its pmleccncy in a voice so trumpettongued. To myself, whose homage night and day ascended towards tho great altars of English pcotry and eloquence, it w r as shocking and revolting to find in highminded young countrymen, burning with sensibility that sought vainly for a corresponding object, deep unconsciousness of an all-sufficient object—viz., in that great inheritance on literature which kindled enthusiasm in our public enemies.” He goes on to refer to the humiliating fact that it was a French writer—-Chateaubriand—who first taught us the primacy of Milton. And we might add that up till quite recently it was another Frenchman—M. Taine— to whom wo had to turn for the most philosophic and fascinating history of our literature. This was discreditable to us. Things havo changed. But the old heresy dies hard. Many still believe that they know nil that is worth knowing about our literature when they leave school, or aro obsessed by the foolish idea that it is a mark of scholarship to bo familiar with every language and literature save the noblest of them all, our own. A recent writer in the Christchurch ‘ Press ’ describes a book sale in that city of 100,000 people “mostly chasing shadows.” There were 2,000 books auctioned—many of them “of priceless value’’—and they attracted “scarcely twenty people.” Tho auctioneer’s literary standing may bo inferred from this commendatory comment on a volume of Cowpcr, Taking it in Ids hand, he said : “ Cowpcr—that will be biography, I suppose. No; poems. Just imagine, tho original words now out of print! Who says a bob?” And tho writer’s final reflection is “Sunt lacrimae rerum”; but do wo laugh or cry when Burns will not bring sixpence ? when to sell the Iliad we must tic it up with Smiles’s ‘Thrift’? when the ‘Sentimental Journey’ must bo worked off by guile between ‘ Tho Great Schism’ and ‘The Girl of tho Limberlost’? and when all that sold from a bundle containing ‘ Gil Bias,’ ‘ Crime of Punishment,’ the best of Darwin and ‘Plutarch’s Lives ’ was a gutter pamphlet called ‘ Marriage and its Mysteries ? ” ■M* # *3f # These things and much else that might be mentioned arc indicative of the need of something definite being done to widen and deepen tiie knowledge and love of literature. What can be done? Why not form a society for its study on similar lines to that of the Classical Society? Or, better still, why not get into touch with organisations at Home that arc working for these ends? There is, e.g., the Royal Society of Literature, whose functions are thus defined: , (a) To taka all possible measures to maintain the purity of the English language and to hold up a standard of good taste in stylo. (b) To encourage fellowship and cooperation among* those who are disinterestedly striving for the perfection of English ’literature. (c) By “discourses of reception” and “ obituary addresses ” to mark tho cur rent of literary history in the country. (d) To designate from time to time persons to become recipients of the medals of the society. (e) To make awards of merit to particular literary works.

It will thus be seen that the object of this society is to represent pure literature, as the Royal Academy represents the fine arts, the Royal Society science, and the British Academy learning. There is also, we believe, or was recently, another body calling itself the English Association. We do not know exactly what connection, if any, there is between the two. Rut the aims appear much the same. The objective of tho English Association is thus defined i (a) To promote the due recognition of an English literature as an essential clement in the national education. (b) To discuss methods of teaching English and tho correlation of school and university work. (c) To encourage and facilitate advanced study in English language and literature. (d) To unite all those who are, interested in English studies; to bring teachers into contact with one another and with writers and readers who do nbt teach; and to induce those who are not themselves engaged in teaching to use their influence in the cause of English as a part of education. j It is gratifying to find that at Home, at I any rate, efforts are thus being made to have due honor given to our English language and literature, and to deepen and widen the study of it among all classes. We are aware, of course, that to some extent something of the kind is being attempted here, both at the University and by the W.E.A. classes. But these are limited in their application, and do not

meet the general needs. It very often happens Hint the teaching of English in schools and universities has tho result not of creating or fostering a taste for English literature, but Just tho reverse. Students have examination in view, Or they aro sot to analyse—tear to pieces, that is—some fine poems, worry out subjects and predicates and 'extensions of subjects and predicates, and all the fearful and wonderful tilings in which a dry-as-dust‘grammarian or an analytical pedant delights. And so tho student is fortunate if ho does not become possessed of the idea that the chief use of poetry is to supply spectacled examiners with philological and grammatical conundrums. It is methods like these that largely explain why students leave schools and colleges with a thorough distaste for English literature, and with a resolve when the curriculum is ended “ Never again.” * * # * Another cause that militates against literature is the present all dominant desiro for science. Wo have not a word to say against the study of science. Our case is far too strong in itself to need any abuse of any opponent, least of all science. Wo owe it immense gratitude for all the amenities that it has added to life and work. But wc must not allow even it to bully us, or assign it a disproportionate place in the development of character, which, after all, is the true end of any study. Wo all know the pathetic confession of Darwin as to the injury wrought him by the undue emphasis which he put upon specialisation in science. And tho late war should have had its warning for ns in a similar way. It showed us on a national scale in Germany what a mere scientific education divorced from the refining and enlarging influence of literature produces. That unhappy ooiuitry was the chief leader in scientific studies and developments, and it all ended in too most hellish designs. A quarter of a century ago or less many believed that science was going to bring in the millennium. It was going to make everybody rich, and mate now heavens and a new earth. But we have grown wiser since; at least, we hope so. As a writer in the ‘ Hibbert Journal ’ puts it: “ Tho industrial renaissance has ended in tho smoke of howitzer shells. Man, in becoming master of Nature, has neglected the greater task of becoming master of himself and his concerns. In the discovery of the supreme importance of these lies tho next stage of his development. The war has put a period to his attempt to raise himself by the forces of Nature; it reveals the need to raise himself by the forces of spiritual life.” To do this literature must be assigned not a secondary, but a primary, cr at any rate a co-ordinate, place with science. And in particular this is true of our own literature, for it par excellence is the noblest in tho world for the purpose. I ##*»■' Wo are all familiar with De Quinccy's distinction between the literature of knowledge and the literature of power. Tho function of tho former is to teach and inform; that of tho latter is to move and inspire. The first is a rudder; the second is a sail. What do wo learn, say, from 1 Paradise Lost ’ or Shelley’s 1 Queen Mab ’ ? Nothing at all that could be called practical in the sense that tho multiplication table or a cookery book is practical. Every page of these is crowded with new facts. But who would put the cookery book on tho sumo level as Milton’s great epic? What we owe to Milton or Shakespeare or Shelley is not any knowledge of which a million separate items are, but a million advancing steps on the same level. What wo owe is power, uplift, inspiration. And this is the peculiar excellence of English literature. It is what distinguishes it from all other literature. Wo aro learning in these days tho value of imagination as a factor in education. There is no other clement to be compared with it in illuminating and transforming power. And our English literature is unique in its possession of this quality. In breadth and height ant! richness of imagination it is unequalled by any other. Allied to this as a dynamic is its ethic. It draws Us ethics mainly from Biblical sources. The Jewish and tho Christian ethics reach the high-water mark of man’s thought in the sphere of morality. And English literature is saturated with their teaching and spirit. So it is the literature of Freedom and Progress. As Wordsworth singe: Wo must lie free or die who speak the tongue That Snakespear© spake, the faith and morals hold That Milton held. This feature of our literature, it has been pointed out, opens up for it avenues into the world’s future. Certain great arteries of life run directly into it. The_ healthy heart of the world is beating in sympathy with it to an extent not true in the same degree of any other literature, dead or living. If they all perished their leading ideas could be reproduced from English literature. No one, therefore, can thoroughly and sympathetically master it without assimilating at the same time all that is best in the thought of Greece or Palestine or Rome. Once at a dinner of the Royal Academy tho discussion turned on Titian. This and tho other fact was dwelt upon. At last Carlyle interrupted characteristically. “Hero I sit,” he says, “a man made in tho imago of God, who knows nothing about Titian and who cares nothing about Titian—and that’s another fact.” Thackeray, who was quietly sipping his claret, paused, bowed gravely to his fellow-guest, and said: “ Pardon mo, that is not a fact about Titian. It is a fact—a very lamentable fact—about Thomas Carlyle.” Tho effort made to mask an unpardonable Ignorance regarding English language and literature under the guiso of indifference -or superiority : s common enough, but it is utterly unworthy of us and of the heritage bequeathed to us.