down something wholly different from what he wishes to express;—what is that to me? I know how he ought to have proceeded, and what he would have said, for I have penetrated his whole thought. These are the failings of human weakness, which, when united with true merit in the subject itself, no honourable mind will reprove.’
It is also clear, that by this mode of reading it may soon be discovered when the Author is not master of the Science of which he aspires to write, and is ignorant of the extent to which it has already been cultivated; or when he is only a bewildered dreamer. In both cases his book may be quietly laid aside: it will not be necessary to read it further.
And in this way, the first object,—the understanding and historical recognition of the Author’s meaning,—is attained. Whether this meaning be consistent with Truth,—to ascertain which is the second purpose of reading,—will be very easily determined after such a searching study as we have described; if, indeed, a judgment upon this latter point has not already been formed during the study itself.
In the second place, with respect to the reading of a Literary work:—The sole purpose of such reading is, that the Reader may partake of the inspiration, elevation, and culture of mind which the work may be designed to communicate. For this purpose, mere passive self-abandonment is all that is requisite; for it is not the business of every man to penetrate to the source of aesthetic pleasure, or even to trace its operations in individual cases. Art summons all men to the enjoyment, but only a few to the use, or even to the knowledge, of her secrets. But in order that a work of Art may even come into contact with our minds, and we ourselves enter into communion with it, it must first of all be understood;—that is, we must thoroughly comprehend the purpose of
