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ceeded by a Bible reading with him, and so we were all swept, regardless of its then came tea. After tea was evening private effect on us, into the tide. What service in church, and after Sunday sup- he did not allow for was that on other per, he read the Pilgrim's Progress aloud temperaments, that which so aptly fuluntil we had compline in chapel. To fill filled the desires of his own produced a up intervals we might read certain Sun- totally different impression. That day, day books, the more mature successors of for us, was one of crushing boredom and Bishop Heber and The Rocky Island and unutterable fatigue. Certain humorous Agathos. No shoal of relaxation emerged gleams occasionally relieved the darkness, from the roaring devotional food; if at as when the devil entered into me on one meals the conversation became too secular, occasion when Lives of the Saints came to it was brought back into appropriate me by rotation, for reading aloud. There channels; there was even a set of special was the serene sunlight outside the shade graces before and after meals to be used of the cedar, positively gilding the tennis on Sunday, consisting of short versicles court, there was the croquet lawn starvand responses quite bewildering to any | ing for the crack of balls, and there, too, guest staying in the house. No games of underneath the cedar was my somnolent any sort or kind were played, not even family, Hugh with swoony eyes, laden those which like lawn-tennis or golf en- with sleep, Nellie and Maggie? primly tailed no labor on the part of the servants. and decorously listening, their eyelids However fair a snow covered Fir Mount, closed, like Miss Matty's because they no toboggan that day made its perilous listened better so, and my father for descent, and though the pond might be whom and by whom this treat was arspread with delectable ice no skates pro-ranged, with head thrown back and faned its satin on the Day of Rest. The
mouth nakedly open.
And then Day of Rest in fact, owing chiefly to this came Satan, or at least Puck. prohibition on reasonable relaxation, be- I read four lines of the page to which we
a day of pitiless fatigue. We had penetrated, then read a few senhopped, like "ducks and drakes," from tences out of the page that had already one religious exercise to another, relent- been read.
been read. Deftly and silently, but keeplessly propelled.
ing a prudent finger in the proper place, To my father, I make no doubt, with
I turned over a hundred pages, and his intensely devotional mind, this stren- droned a paragraph about a perfectly uous Sunday was a time of refreshment. different saint. Swiftly turning back I It is perfectly true that he often went to read some few lines out of the introducsleep in church, and if on very hot Sun- tion to the whole volume, and then, senddays, the walk was abandoned, and we ing prudence to the winds, found the end read aloud in turns from some saintly of the chapter on which we were engaged. chronicle, under the big cedar on the I gave them a little more about St. lawn, not only he, but every member of Catherine of Siena, a little more from the family, except the reader (we read in the introduction, then in case anyone hapturn), went to sleep, too. But he dozed pened to be awake, read the concluding off to the chronicle of St. Francis and sentences of the chapter about St. Francis came back to it again; nothing jarred. / and stopped. Thus ordered, Sunday was a perfect day The cessation of voice caused Nellie for one of his temperament; no work was to awake, and with an astounding hypocdone on it, no week-day breeze ruffled its risy, subsequently brought home to her, devotional stillness, but his appreciation she exclaimed: of it postulated that all of us should "Oh, how interesting." share to the full in its spiritual benefits. Her voice aroused my father. There He did not believe that for himself Sunday could be spent more profitably, and 1 Benson's sisters.
we all were sitting under the cedar, read- quite out of the question. How she did ing about St. Francis. Hugh had awoke,
Hugh had awoke, it I have no idea, but surely the very test Maggie had awoke: it was a peaceful de- of tact lies in the fact that you don't know votional Sunday afternoon.
how it is done. Tact explained ceases “Wonderful!” he said. “Is that the to be tact, and degenerates into reason on end, Fred?"
the one hand or futility on the other. "Yes, that's all," said Fred.
Certainly I never confronted my father Fred was also a passive actor in an- with this evidence, and Sunday went on other Sunday humor. My father had precisely as usual. Sometimes Hugh and noticed in me a certain restlessness at I played football in the top passage, but readings, some twitching of the limbs at you mightn't kick hard for fear of dea Bible lesson, or whatnot, and in order tected reverberations through the skylight to confirm me in the right practice of the of the central hall. day, had looked out a book in his library about Sunday, which he recommended me There is a play by some Italian dramatto read, without having sufficiently ascer- ist, which I once saw Dusé act: perhaps tained the contents of it himself. Judge it is by D'Annunzio, but I cannot idenof my rapture when I found a perfectly tify it. In the second act anyhow, the convincing chapter, showing how the sad, curtain went up on Dusé, alone on the joyless, unrelaxed English Sunday was stage. She wrote a letter, she put some purely an invention of Puritan times. My flowers in a vase without speech, and father had given me the book to convince still without speech, she opened a window me of the antique sanctity of the Ad- at the back, and leaned out of it. She dington use: the book told me that from paused long with her back to the audithe patristic times onwards, no such idea ence, and then turning round again said, of Sunday as we religiously practised had half below her breath, "Aprile." After ever entered into the heads of Christians, that the action of the play proceeded but or had ever dawned on the world until not till, in that long pause and that one the sourness of Puritans robbed the day of word, she had given us the magic of its traditional joy. It had been a day of spring.
Not otherwise, but just festa, of relaxation from the tedious so, were those Addington holidays, when round of business, and all the faithful I was sixteen and seventeen, in April, dressed themselves in their best clothes and thus the magic of spring in those for fun, and village sports were held, and seasons of Christmas and Easter and Sephospitality enlivened the drab week. Sure tember came to me. Bulbs and seeds enough they went to church in the morn- buried in my ground began to spike the ing and after that abandoned themselves earth, and the soft buds and leaves to to jollity. With suppressed giggles I burst their woolly sheaths. It was the flew to my mother's room to tell her the time for the rooting up, in that springresult of this investigation, and she gardening, of certain weeds; it was the steered a course so wonderful that not time also of planting the seedlings which even then could I chart it. Her sympa- should flower later, and of grafting fresh thetic amusement I knew was all mine, slips on to a stem that was forming fibre but somehow she abandoned no whit of in the place of soft sappy shoots. Above her loyalty to my father's purpose in giv- all it the time of receiving ing me the book. I had imagined myself
mature and indelible impres(with rather timorous glee, for which I sions, and there is scarcely anything wanted her support) pronouncing sen- which in later life I have loved or hated, tence on his Sunday upon the very evi- or striven for or avoided that is not dedence which he had given me to judge it rivable from some sprig of delight or disby, but some consummate stroke of tact taste planted during those seasons of first on my mother's part made all that to be growth. Childhood and earlier boyhood
were more of a greenhouse, where early the experiences with which I fed the lusty growths were nurtured in a warmed appetites of life were at the moment, but windlessness; now they were pricked out at the metabolism they would undergo and put in the beds, where they had to when I had eaten them. But of all menlearn the robustness which would make tal habits then forming, the one for which them resist the inclemencies of a less I most bless those lovely years, was the sheltered life. Some died, scorched by habit of enjoyment, of looking for (and the sun or battered by the rain; the rest, finding) in every environment some pleasI suppose, had enough vitality to make ure and interest. That habit, no doubt, sun and rain alike serve their growth. with all our games, our collections, our Above all it was the time of learning to scribblings had long been churned at: enjoy, no longer in the absolutely unre- about now it solidified. And by far the Alective manner of a child, but in a man- most active and assiduous of external ner to some extent reasoned and purposed. agencies that caused this—the dairySome kind of philosophy, some conscious maid, so to speak, who was never weary digestive process began to stir below mere of this magnificent churning—was my receptivity. I looked not only at what ' mother.
2. BIOGRAPHY Autobiography and biography are closely servers in the balloon, who from his point related. Both deal with the same sort of of vantage watches the efforts of the material in the same way; that is to say, artillerymen and notes the effects of their the subject matter and the method of fire. In a like manner he can judge the treatment of each are identical. The varied activity of the person whose life he purpose of the autobiographer and the is writing, and estimate the influence biographer is to portray faithfully a per- which this individual has exerted upon sonality in all its phases. The danger of his environment. If he is a faithful stupresenting an incomplete picture is the dent of human nature, he will also atmore insidious, because unconscious, in tempt to discover to what extent enthe case of autobiography; but it is also vironment has shaped the man. For inthe more easily forgiven. The value of a stance, Lytton Strachey is not satisfied biography, however, is likely to be meas- merely to trace the course of English ured mainly by the comprehensiveness of policy as grooved by Queen Victoria and its scope and the impartiality of its treat- her ministers; he also gives us the human ment.
side—the change which the office of sovThe chief differences between the two ereign of England gradually effected in types are due to the point of view. The the girl Queen, so long shut away in the author of an autobiography is in the po- seclusion of Kensington with her mother sition of the gunner who seldom sees the and the ubiquitous Lehzen. effects of his artillery fire except for a One other factor must be considered in sudden cloud of smoke or spurt of flame. the study of biography. The man who He is intensely concerned with all the de- starts to write an account of his own life tails that are involved in the commission immediately conditions the time of which of his duty and can, if he will, relate he will write-his own age. But the numerous anecdotes of the fray as he sees biographer may choose for his subject it. On the other hand he can only guess either a figure of his own day or an outat the results of his labors, unless some standing personage of the past. If he decaptive balloon signals its observations. cides to write of a contemporary, as did
The biographer, however, occupies a Boswell, he will be dependent largely position similar to that of one of the ob- upon personal reminiscence, testimony of friends and relatives, and whatever letters a large measure as a criterion in giving a and speeches he can collect. Should his
Should his biographer his proper rank. choice light upon a character of an earlier Having once collected his data, the period, he will then have at his disposal writer has next the task of clothing his figthe accumulated bulk of critical material ures and facts with the weft of his imagithat has increased with each new investi- native genius. He must do this by stressgation and discovery. Any attempt to ing the human side of his subject, never proceed without exhaustive study of the forgetting that there may be more signifisources already available spells failure. cance in a single unconscious gesture On the other hand it would be unwise to than in the studied attitude with which accept the testimony thus offered without
faces a great crisis. While due consideration of each item in the light the latter may give proof of fortiof all the material submitted. It is this tude and will power, the former reveals critical judgment involved in the accept- the native disposition which is the true ance or rejection of data which serves in self.
JOHNSON ON PATRONAGE
JAMES BOSWELL James Boswell (1740-1795), is the author of the Life of Johnson (1791), the greatest of English biographies. He was not content to give mere dates and places in the life of his hero, but strove in every way to give a complete picture of the great lexicographer. To this end he records actual conversations as they fell from Johnson's lips. The common assumption has been that Boswell was little more than a fool, a man who loved to shine in the reflected light of greatness. Prof. Chauncey B. Tinker in his recent book Young Boswell has combated this view, holding that no man capable of writing a masterpiece of biography could be such a charlatan as tradition has reputed Boswell to be.
The Dictionary, we may believe, af- for which the reason assigned was, that he forded Johnson full occupation this had company with him; and that at last, year. As it approached to its conclu- when the door opened, out walked Colley sion, he probably worked with redoubled Cibber; and that Johnson was so viovigor, as seamen increase their exertion lently provoked when he found for whom and alacrity when they have a near pros- he had been so long excluded, that he pect of their haven.
went away in a passion, and never would Lord Chesterfield, to whom John- return. I remember having mentioned son had paid the high compliment of ad- this story to George Lord Lyttelton, who dressing to his Lordship the Plan of his told me, he was very intimate with Lord Dictionary, had behaved to him in such a Chesterfield; and holding it as a wellmanner as to excite his contempt and in- known truth, defended Lord Chesterfield dignation. The world has been for many by saying, that "Cibber, who had been inyears amused with a story confidently troduced familiarly by the back-stairs, told, and as confidently repeated with ad- had probably not been there above ten ditional circumstances, that a sudden dis- minutes.” It may seem strange even to gust was taken by Johnson upon occasion entertain a doubt concerning a story so of his having been one day kept long in long and so widely current, and thus imwaiting in his Lordship's antechamber, plicitly adopted, if not sanctioned, by the
2Philip Dormer Stanhope, Earl of Chesterfield, was Secretary of State when Johnson made his first advances. He is remembered in literature for his letters to his son.
3 An actor and dramatist of some pretension and less ability, chiefly remembered for An Apology for his Life, a vivid picture of the early eighteenth century theater and drama.
ference with which he had treated its du
authority which I have mentioned; but hitherto, perhaps, it may not have been Johnson himself assured me, that there the worse for it. During our free and was not the least foundation for it. He open trade, many words and expressions told me, that there never was any particu- have been imported, adopted, and naturallar incident which produced a quarrel be-ized from other languages, which have tween Lord Chesterfield and him; but greatly enriched our own. Let it still that his Lordship's continued neglect was preserve what real strength and beauty the reason why he resolved to have no it may have borrowed from others; but connection with him. When the Dic- let it not, like the Tarpeian maid, be overtionary was upon the eve of publication, whelmed and crushed by unnecessary Lord Chesterfield, who, it is said, had ornaments. The time for discrimination flattered himself with expectations that seems to be now come. Toleration, adopJohnson would dedicate the work to him, tion and naturalization have run their attempted, in a courtly manner, to soothe lengths. Good order and authority are and in ate himself with the Sage, con- now necessary. But where shall we find scious, as it should seem, of the cold indif- them, and at the same time, the obedience
due to them? We must have recourse to learned author; and further attempted to the old Roman expedient in times of conconciliate him, by writing two papers in fusion, and choose a dictator. Upon this “The World,” in recommendation of the principle, I give my vote for Mr. Johnwork; and it must be confessed, that they son, to fill that great and arduous post, contain some studied compliments, so and I hereby declare, that I make a total finely turned, that if there had been no surrender of all my rights and privileges previous offence, it is probable that John- in the English language, as a free-born son would have been highly delighted. | British subject, to the said Mr. Johnson, Praise, in general, waş pleasing to him; during the term of his dictatorship. Nay but by praise from a man of rank and ele- more, I will not only obey him like an old gant accomplishments, he was peculiarly Roman, as my dictator, but, like a modern gratified.
Roman, I will implicitly believe in him His Lordship says, “I think the pub- as my pope, and hold him to be infallible lick in general and the republick of let- while in the chair, but no longer. More ters in particular, are greatly obliged to than this he cannot well require; for, I Mr. Johnson, for having undertaken, and presume, that obedience can never be exexecuted so great and desirable a work. pected, when there is neither terrour to Perfection is not to be expected from enforce, nor interest to invite it." man: but if we are to judge by the various works of Johnson already published, we have good reason to believe, that he "But a Grammar, a Dictionary, and a will bring this as near to perfection as any History of our Language, through its man could do. The plan of it, which he several stages, were still wanting at home, published some years ago, seems to me to and importunately called for from abroad. be a proof of it. Nothing can be more Mr. Johnson's labours will now, I dare rationally imagined, or more accurately say, very fully supply that want, and and elegantly expressed. I therefore
therefore greatly contribute to the farther spreadrecommend the previous perusal of it to ing of our language in other countries. all those who intend to buy the Diction- Learners were discouraged, by finding no ary, and who, I suppose, are all those who standard to resort to; and, consequently can afford it."
thought it incapable of any. They will now be undeceived and encouraged."
This courtly device failed of its effect. “It must be owned, that our language Johnson, who thought that "all was is, at present, in a state of anarchy, and false and hollow,” despised the honeyed