220 LITERARY VALTTES 



As a writer Dr. Holmes always reminded me of cer- 

 tain of our bird songsters, such as the brown thrasher 

 or the catbird, whose performances always seem to 

 imply a spectator and to challenge his admiration. 

 The vivacious doctor always seemed to write with 

 his eye upon his reader, and to calculate in advance 

 upon his reader's surprise and pleasure. If the world 

 finally neglects his work, it will probably be because 

 it lacks the deep seriousness of the enduring produc- 

 tions. 



Yet this test of re-reading is, of course, only an 

 approximate one. So great an authority as Hume 

 said it was sufficient to read Cowley once, but that 

 Parnell after the fiftieth reading was as fresh as at 

 the first. Now, for my part, I have to go to the 

 encyclopsedia to find out who Parnell was, but of 

 Cowley even desultory readers like myself know 

 something. His essays one can not only read, but 

 re-read. They make one of the unpretentious minor 

 books that one can put in his pocket and take with 

 him on a walk to the woods, and nibble at under a 

 tree or by a waterfall. Solitude seems to bring out 

 its quality, as it does that of some people. 



In our intellectual experience there can probably 

 be but one first time. We go back to an author 

 again and again ; yet in all save a few exceptional 

 cases, the pleasure of the second or third reading is 

 only a lesser degree of the first. On the other hand, 

 a favorite piece of music one may hear with the same 

 keen delight any number of times. Is it because 

 music is so largely made up of the sensuous, at 



