The Saint Valentine after whom Valentine's Day is named was a Roman bishop, living about the third century of our era. He was made a saint, since he died a martyr at the hands of a mob. The old gate once called Flaminian was afterward made a monument to his memory, being called the “Porta Valentina,” by Pope Julius I.
We cannot, in brief space, give a history of the observances of this saint’s day. Lydgate, the English poet, about the middle of the fifteenth century sent a poem in true valentine fashion to Queen Katherine, the French bride of Henry V. Charles, Duke of Orleans, however, had sent a poetical valentine even earlier. Within two centuries afterward it had become the fashion to send presents instead of verses, but in the eighteenth century the fashion changed again, and the sending of verses has been customary ever since.
Feeding the Imagination.
Just because books are the instruments with which teachers work in educating children, young students are very likely to have an idea that the main object in reading a book is to acquire information. They may, perhaps, be surprised to learn that all the best critics believe that information is only, at best, secondary as a purpose for reading; and this is true even if one reads only for self-improvement. Of course, much of one’s reading out of school hours should rightfully be looked upon as recreation, but always without forgetting the derivation of this word. There are two things that we may mean by recreation for the mind. The soul is recreated, not only by amusement or a pleasant change of occupation, but also by being inspired. The word “inspire,” too, has a suggestive meaning. It comes from the old idea of drawing in new life by breathing pure, fresh air; and just as this recreates the lungs, so the taking in of fresh, pure ideas inspires the mind. For this reason, the right reading of good poetry may be considered the best and the most improving form of pleasure derivable from books. Just as facts help us when thinking, the ideas given us by the poets help us when feeling, which is the more important in one’s life.
Though no line can be drawn strictly between the two sorts of reading, schools must give most of their attention to teaching you facts, and therefore you should see that your outside reading contains plenty to supply the other more imaginative element,
A Question for Consideration.
Now that books are to be had in every form, at every price, and on all subjects, we must each of us find some way of judging what books are worth while. No doubt many of us are guided by the opinions of friends; some judge by reviews published in various periodicals; possibly there are those who choose by chance, and never know beforehand whether a book is worth the time they must spend on it.
If there is any one of our readers who can give a valuable bit of advice to help in this most important matter of choosing good reading, it would be a kindness to all who desire not to waste their time upon inferior work.
Reading and Traditions.
No one will deny for a moment that the printing-press has brought as many good gifts as the most benevolent fairy; but while giving due credit to the movable types for beneficent work, we may also say a word of warning in regard to those losses which are brought about by the abundance of printed books. One of the most serious of these is the disuse of tradition—the handing down by word of mouth of the legends, customs, folk-lore, and even the harmless superstitions, of the past. It is nol quite fair to say that these are utterly lost through printing, for scholars are taking care that material of this sort shall be gathered into store-houses of information—that is, into volumes meant expressly to preserve facts such as these. The loss to which we refer is, rather, a disappearance of these matters from every-day life. Before a child is old enough to read, there is a great mass of baby lore heard from the lips of mothers or nurses, but all this comes to an end so soon as the child can make its way through the printed page unaided. What was once a great wealth of living tradition has become merely a study for scholars. Old weather-rhymes, odd little charms, bits of homely wisdom, striking proverbs, all of which used to come from the living tongue, are now disused. The form of these sayings, as framed by the tongue, was really better than their literary form as seen in print. Boys’ games, for instance, used to be taught by the older boys to their young companions, and they learned in no other way; now, there are books containing collections of games for all seasons, and even the youngest may go to these for rules and directions.
The main objection to the change is this: Tradition is a living thing; so soon as a matter is put into print, it remains unchanged, and therefore does not grow or improve. All this matter is mentioned here now, because it is the holiday season, and many of the most valuable of old traditions have grown up in regard to holidays and their customs. When we consider how much went to make up a Christmas, or Twelfth Night, or New Year’s celebration in the days of Queen Elizabeth, it seems a pity that holidays should become merely days of idleness and feasting. We therefore appeal to our young scholars to revive, from books if necessary, the good old customs that are in danger of being lost or forgotten.
Feeding the Imagination.
It is not often that a fact can hide itself for a hundred and fifty years behind an upturned letter, yet that is just what happened in regard to the home of the Puritans in England. There was only one reference, in the whole history of Plymouth Colony, to the English home from which many of the Pilgrims came; and the name of the town most closely connected with their English life was there printed Ansterfield. Many a search for a town of this name was baffled, and the antiquarians were completely at a loss until it was suggested that, instead of being an n, the second letter was a u, making the name Austerfeld. By this little change the mystery a century and a half old vanished into thin air, and it became possible to fix upon the little church from which sprang the congregation that founded the Plymouth Colony in America.
Shakespere and Dogs.
We have been convinced by letters sent to us that there are in Shakspere’s plays plenty of references to dogs and their ways, but we believe that the criticism is well founded which notes that in most cases where dogs are named, except in a general way, they are not spoken of with any particular affection. But may that not be because upon the stage in the Elizabethan days it would not have been desirable to direct the attention of the audience strongly to anything that would distract them from the motives that inspired the actors? To treat dogs sympathetically would bring them, in a sense, into competition with the human actors.
Hawthorn’s Stories.
Here is a very well considered little article sent to us by Palmer Harman of Staunton, Virginia, attempting to show wherein the superior excellence of Hawthorne’s short stories consists:
What makes the Worth of a Story?
All of us, doubtless, like to read Hawthorne’s stories, yet probably we would be puzzled if some one were to ask why we like them. There is certainly not much stirring adventure in them; no narrow escapes, shipwrecks, combats, and such things, as there are in the majority of stories, Even in his larger works, such as “The House of the Seven Gables,” there is very little action or movement; yet all his writings are very interesting, You will notice that a good deal of his space is taken up with describing people —their characters and opinions—how they thought, and what they thought, their motives and feelings. And this is the very reason why his stories are good. A story which truly pictures life and character is good, and will always be good, because man is really the same now as he was in the past and as he will be in the future. Modes of living have changed and will continue to change, but we will always be the same in feelings and interests.
And we like to read about life and character; they are the most interesting things we knew of—we can look around us every day and read them in the faces and acts of other people, just as well as we can read them in our books.
If a story has the quality we have been discussing, and if the language and style in which it is written are good, it is safe to say that it has “real worth.”
