KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



353 



MEDITATION —AND BOOKS. 



Who rkadkth much, and never meditates, 



Is like a greedy eater of much food ; 

 "Who so surcloys his stomach with his cates, 



That commonly they do him little good. 



Sylvester. 



A few good books, digested well, do feed 

 The mind. Much cloys, or doth ill-humors breed. 



Robert Heath. 



ERY MARVELLOUS ARE THE 

 STRIDES NOW MADE BY MEN 

 AND WOMEN IN A KNOW- 

 LEDGE OF THE CONTENTS 



of books ! They read them 

 by the w r agon-load ; and then 

 — Oliver Twist-like — call out 

 loudly for " more ! " Nor are 

 their wants long in being abundantly 

 supplied. Every book-stall in London, and 

 at the railway stations, groans beneath the 

 weight of countless volumes ; bedight ex- 

 ternally in all the varied colors of the rain- 

 bow, — ''artistic devices" the patterns are 

 called ! 



A short time since, having occasion to 

 travel by rail, we took a note of these 

 matters as we flew from post to pillar, from 

 town to town, from city to city. Turn where 

 we might, there lay, in solid masses, books 

 positively countless. Heaps upon heaps ! 

 At each place where we tarried, we asked a 

 multitude of questions about the disposal of 

 all this rubbish. Who were the buyers? 

 What class of people ? &c, &c. The answer 

 was in all instances alike, — "the public 

 generally." Our informants (all intelligent 

 men) added, that good books, or books 

 tending to reflection, met with a very small 

 sale. Anything light, trifling, jocose, or 

 whimsical, there was an immense call for. 

 We are well aware of this ; and have often 

 noticed, whilst waiting the arrival or de- 

 parture of a train, the questionable taste 

 shown in the selection of books by intending 

 travellers. Whilst thus occupied, frequently 

 have we thought on those lines of Cowper : — 



'Twere well for most, if books, that could engage 

 Their childhood, pleased them at a riper age. 

 The man approving what had charmed the boy 

 Would die at last in comfort, peace, and jov ; 

 And not with curses on his art, who stole 

 The gem of truth from his unguarded soul. 



We are much afraid that thoughts like 

 these seldom trouble the multitude ! 



Incidentally, we have inquired in our 

 travels — if Kidd's Journal was ever asked 

 for ? The reply has been " Yes, occasionally, 

 — but that is a work much too solid for rail- 

 way travellers. It is a work we dare never 

 speculate upon, — for the public taste lies 

 quite a different way" Let us be honest 

 and kind in our remarks. More than one, — 

 two, — or three of the booksellers' assistants, 

 presiding at these stalls, spoke of Our 



Journal in terms of the very highest praise. 

 They read it themselves, we found, regularly. 

 On making ourself known as the presiding 

 Genius of the work, our reception was most 

 cordial. These things do one's heart good. 



In this little episode, we see pictured the 

 whole world in a nutshell. Ever agog for 

 novelty, people read all the cheap and vile 

 trash that is poured out from the press. 

 The " book-merchants " know this, and buy 

 up every old (formerly unsaleable work) that 

 may have appeared. An ornamental (!) ad 

 captandum green cover is then attached to it ; 

 it is re-christened ; and despatched forthwith 

 to fulfil its evil mission among tens of 

 thousands of railway and other travellers. 

 One city-house is notorious for purchasing 

 any and, everything that is offered to them ; 

 boasting at the same time, that they can 

 " force " it down the public's throat ! This 

 is, alas ! too true. 



John Bull is unmistakeably mad ; and no 

 wonder, when he reads books at this rapid 

 rate, — never having time to digest one line 

 of them. Then, — our fair friends ; what a 

 school of learning is now open for them ! 

 Novels, romances, fiction of all kinds, 

 penned in the worst possible taste, — these, 

 and books on the " Fashions," are their sole 

 study. History, and works for the "im- 

 provement of the mind," are altogether out 

 of date (they must not be alluded to) ; 

 whilst crochet and other useless fiddle-faddle 

 occupy all their spare " thoughts." And 

 these are, the " goddesses " whom men of 

 sense are called upon to "worship." Nice 

 companions are they for solitude — truly, — 

 nice ornaments, too, for a happy home ! 

 They are, for the most part, little better than 

 animated pegs, — mechanical dummies for 

 showing off every new fashion. But so the 

 world wags, and we must e'en take it as it 

 is, — rejoicing (as a friend now at our elbow 

 remarks) that " things are, — no worse! " 



We are " a character," it is said. Granted. 

 And we are " very plain-spoken." Granted 

 also. What then ? Are our pursuits vain ? 

 Are they destitute of enjoyment? Is our 

 object ignoble? Plead we not for good 

 sense ? Do we not seek to reduce the fearful 

 distance between man and man, and to make 

 the social compact closer ? 



We want more amity ; more " twos and 

 tAvos" to become " one," both in sentiment 

 and in habit. Friendship (properly so called) 

 is delightful. Only think of the union of 

 two fond hearts, with only one mind com- 

 mon to both ! Who, that is in the secret, 

 would consent to differ from us ? 



As bees mix'd nectar draw from fragrant flow'rs, 

 So man from Friendship wisdom and delight, — 

 Twins tied by Nature. If they part, they die! 



We w T ell know whom we are addressing ; 

 and should not hold such converse in any 



Vol. V.— 23. 



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