318 TIMEHRI. 
“Qf the making of many books, there is no end,” and 
one of the disadvantages of the present tremendous out- 
pour of books, I think, is that the older writers are apt to 
be negleéted. Whether the new novel or the old novel, 
apart from the individuality of its author, possesses the 
most general interest, may perhaps be termed a debatable 
question. HAZLITT, in his Essay, “On reading new 
Books,” admirably states the advantage accruing to the 
new book. “It appeals to our dire& experience,” he 
says, “and to well-known subje€ts ; it is part and parcel 
of the World around us, and is drawn from the same 
source as our thoughts.” 
The objeétions to the old novel are many and various. 
It’s “strange expressions,” its prolixity, ‘“ those mellow 
old copper plates” with their “ grotesque figures” by 
CRUIKSHANK and others, its “ general mustiness.” The 
old novel, however, must always attra€t when one tires 
of the sameness and shallowness of the generality of 
present day work. “ALONSO of Aragon,” MELCHIOR 
tells us, ‘‘ was won’t to say, in commendation of age, 
that age appeared to be best in these four things—wood 
to burn, wine to drink, friends to trust, and authors to 
read :” and GOLDSMITH takes up the same idea in ‘‘ She 
stoops to conquer.” Many of us, also, at the present 
day may be inclined to agree with the opinion of ALONSO 
of Aragon. 
Besides the temptation to negleét the older writers, to 
which we are exposed by the flood of books now-a-days, 
there is the temptation to read superficially. We wish 
when asked the frequent question ‘‘ Have you read So 
and So’s new book,” to be able to say “ Yes,” and to be 
able to express some sort of opinion on it. We wish to be 
