THE HESPERIAN.
Of late we have seldom picked up a paper that did
not contain a literary department made up from the
tables of contents of the various magazines. The
items are strung along in some such way as this:
"The for March contains an excellent article
on
by the popular author
; also"
and so on to the end. If it is a book that is? to be
noticed, the form is changed to this- "The public
will be interested to learn that has recently
published a very valuable book bearing the title of
. We predict for it a hearty appreciation and
large sale." Now we have been in the habit of
reading such columns in the hope of finding some
hint that would be useful in directing our reading,
but so far we have had our labor for our pains. We
hope no one else has been fool enough to go diamond
hunting in the same clay. This is a kind ol liter
ature for which the world has no use, and we wish
it would cease to occupy space that might be
turned to account in saying a few of the many good
things that are waiting to be said. Criticism' is one
of the most useful of the useful arts, but this that we
are talking about is not criticism. But those who
write this sort of nonsense are not the only ones who
have mistaken their calling. There are others wlio
imagine that they are the most able of critics merely
because they happen to be troubled with dyspepsia.
Now it is our belief that true '-riticism does not have
its origin in the stomach, as might be supposed, but
in the brain. Sometimes things are published that
cannot be too severely censured, but certainly pre
judice should never be felt' against an arucle before
it is read. It seems useless to make such an axio
matic statement, but what ought to be self evident
has surely dropped out of the minds of some of the
professional critics. It may be that those in question
are trying to follow in the footsteps of Carlyle. If
this is the case they have fallen far behind their
leader. Carlyle had brains as well as dyspepsia,
and, at least until we have further light on the sub
ject, we must continue to regard brains as essential
to a critic.
Choice fruits, confectionery and lunch all the year round at
Chevront & Go's, 1191 O street.
In New York go to Delmonico's, but in Lincoln go to
Chevront & Go's for oysters in evcy style. Always ready to
serve you.
Students can have their laundry work done in first class
style by the Eureka Steam Laundry. Leave your orders at
this office.
Sam Westerfield, the students' barber, will soon be estab
lished in his new and handsome quarters in the basement of
the Burr block.
Jas. II. Hooper is on hand with his new Eureka steam
laundry and does the neatest work. Leave orders at this of
bee and he will call at your room.
Ewing's make children's clothing a special feature of their
business. The new stock now includes the handsomest styles
ever brought to Lincoln. Be sure to call and see them
1ITERARY.
DcQuincey wrote few better things than "Murder as a
Fine Art." In many places his wit is heavy, but through
out this article his style appears at its best. I am irresistibly
tempted to quote two of the good things in it. He says,
"As the inventor of murder and the father of the art, Cain
must have been a man of first rate genius. All the Cains
were men of genius. Tubal Cain invented tubes, or some
such thing." And again, "If once a man indulges in murdci,
very soon he comes to think little of robbing, and from rob
bing he comes next to drinking and Sabbath breaking, and
from that to incivility and procrastination. Once begin upon
this downward path, you never know where you are to stop.
Many a man has dated his ruin from some murder or other
that perhaps he thought little of at the time."- Then to gel
a slight idea of the versatility of the man read the "Dream
Fugue" in the same volume.
Among the recent additions to the American literature de
partment of the University Library is a set of Charles Brock
den Brown's works. These have an especial interest from
the fact that Brown was the first American to devote himself
to literature as a profession; and perhaps an additional in
terest from the promise we here find of a coining Hawthorne.
One can readily allow his judgement to be softened in s
measure towards the forerunner of our American men of
letters and in fact one must lay aside the ultra-critical spirit
to enjoy these works.
"Wieland," the first of the scries is about as characteristic
as any illustrating Brown's liking for themes which savor of
the supcrn; tural. In this line it is good and one is generally
surprised, at. the end of the novel, to find the supernatural
occurrences all explained by the combination of an ability to
imitate voices, with inherited insanity. The father of the
hero dies a in mysterious way and his daughter and son hear
at short intervals strange voices and warnings. These result
in the terrorizing of the family and finally in the death of
the son, his wife, child, and sister successively.
The very apparent improbability of the story never oc
curs to a reader until the end is reached, because he thinks
of it as a regular ghost story. It must be very gratifying to
all unbelievers in ghosts to have the novel closed with snch
a commonplace explanation but I must say even if I have to
admit an unusual amount of gratification on this very score
that the effect is somewhat of an anticlimax, and I think
Brown would have done better to leave the explanation out
and allow the work to stand as pure romance.
"Clara Howard" is by far the most reasonable of the set
in plot. It consists entirely oj letters and is consequently of
some interest for an author of any ability can't help making
letters interesting. This novel is quite short and merely a
love story.
"Arthur Mervyn" is perhaps the best of the set. It is a
memoir of the year 1793 in Philadelphia and gives an excel
lent account of the plague of that year. If American cities
need any warning in regard to epidemics this, I think will
furnish it. Arthur Mervyn is an ingenuous country youth
who goes to Philadelphia and falls under the influence of a
successful swindler and counterfeiter. This novel needs no
sentimental consideration for the author, to recomend it, but
will easily stand on its own merits. There are a few rather
amusing traits in Brown as an author. In "Ormond" he
says: "The character of Ormond deseives to be studied above
all others." Of course an author may, if he wishes, insist
that he is going to depict the greatest character in existence,
but quite a number, perhaps, of his readers will smile incred-