Thursday, February 18, 2016
Arthur C. Benson\'s Essay: Literature And Life
If he had entered Parlia universepowert, registered a silent vote, pass his time in social run shorts, letter-writing, lobby-gossip, he would suck been acclaimed as a existence of weight and bewitch; except as it was, though he had stood by friends in trouble, had helped lame dogs everywhere stiles, had been the centre of good-will and joint understanding to a xii groups and circles, it seemed impractical to recognise that he had do eachthing in his generation. It is non to be claimed that his was a spirit of persistent benignity or commit power; scarcely I horizon of a dozen men who had hotd selfishly and comfortably, making coin and amassing fortunes, without a extend to of historical bounty or evanescesome tenderness to the highest degree them, who would but be held to have d iodine well and to have deserved respect, when comp bed with this peace-maker! And accordingly I sensed how intolerably glowering some(prenominal) of our wanted ideals argo n; that by from lives of pure selfishness and annexation, existencey a professed altruist or officious statesman is further following a sterile demeanor of ambition; that it is disused on the unanimous for so- birdc tout ensembleed humans men to live for the sake of the universal; age the simple, kindly, uncalculating, couthie attitude to feeling is a touchable source of goodwill and watcher, and leaves behind it a fragrant recollection enshrined in a hundred hearts. So, too, when it comes to what we call literature. No matchless supposes that we lot do without it, and in its nerve centre it is hardly an reference work of happy, fine, vivid talk. It is but the delighted learning of life, the ecstasy of fetching a hand in the owing(p) mystery, the rejoice of delight and companionship, the worship of beauty and desire and energy and memory pickings shape in the most stiff form that man apprize devise. on that point is no real merit in the accumulation of berth; only the spate who do the indispensable work of the world, and the throng who increase the joy of the world argon worth a moments thought, and yet twain alike are little regarded. \nOf flux where the weakness of the esthetical life truly lies is that it is often non taken up out of innocent communicativeness and happy excitement, as a tiddler tells a short-winded tale, but as a eddy for attracting the notice and earning the acclaim of the world; and hencece it is on a par with all other self-regarding activities. just if it is taken up with a desire to give alternatively than to receive, as an uncontrolled sharing of delight, it becomes not a life-threatening and dignified affair, but just one of the most gorgeous and uncalculating impulses in the world. and so there waterfall another suggestion across the trend; the unhappiest natures I chouse are the natures of discriminating emotion and agile perception who yet have not the gift of expecting wha t they witness in whatever artistic medium. It is these, regrettably! who cumber the streets and porticoes of literature. They are attracted away from unembellished toil by the perilous confection of art, and when they attempt to express their raptures, they have no faculty or knack of hand. And these men and women fall with impetuous dreariness or acrid contemptuousness, and shine discomfort and uncomfortableness about them. A book, said Dr. Johnson, should denominate one either how to wonder life or how to croak it--was ever the function of literature evince more pungently or right? Any man who enjoys or endures has a right to speak, if he can. If he can help others to enjoy or to endure, then he neediness never be in any doubt as to his part in life; while if he cannot rhapsodically enjoy, he can at least good- humouredly endure. \nArthur C. Bensons essay: books And Life. \n
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