LITERATURE

power of mind, are more rare among the literati of the present day than heretofore; that we have lost in profundity, to use the common expre ion, what we have gained in surface. Of that opinion we are not. But we imagine ourselves to trace, both in the composition and tone of thinking of the day, a want of finish and harmony of tone— a want of thoise qualities which are the result of patience, and of that complacent dwelling of the mind on some favourite object of study which was so common in former ages. The powers of men of ability are too much di ipated, both by the vast variety of subjects pre ing on their attention, and by the temptation to satisfy the cravings of the public by hasty execution. On the other hand, in the fbur literary countries ot the present day — France, Germany, England, Italy, and especially the three former — the number of persons to whom literature furnishes the sole and beloved recreation has increased, within the last century, we may add the last generation, to an amount perfectly surprising. Were it po ible to calculate the number of individuals more than half of whose waking hours are spent in reading, and writing on literary subjects, the result would be startling. In Germany the number of books published has nearly trebled since the peace of 1815. The great bulk of the increase belongs to literature specially so called. In France and England the accumulation is scarcely le . And by the proce , common in all these countries, of circulating libraries, the same copy of a book performs an infinitely greater quantity of service, pa ing under the eyes of many more readers than heretofore. It is curious, among ourselves, to trace the decline of the favourite amusements of our ancestors. The theatres are almost deserted by the ranks which used to frequent them. The public a embly rooms of the rich, the suburban l)laces of resort for nightly entertainments, once so common among the middle cla es, are alike falling into comparative disuse. Of the increased infrequency of play, or even games of skill, in society, every one can judge. Of wine the consumption has certainly not increased one half in a century, while the number of consumers has probably been quintupled or sextupled. All these things afforded a certain quantity of occupation; and the substitute for one and all has been the same — literature. It is plain, therefore, how far more important a part than heretofore literature must perform in modelling the public mind of nations. There have been times when it scarcely represented the national disposition at all; but merely that of a cla by which it was encouraged. Any one who were to judge of the social state of England under Charles II. by its literature, would pronounce that the nation comprised a learned cla of great knowledge, but visionary and unpractical habits of mind; and a frivolous, coarse, debauched community. Yet, in truth, the great bulk of the nation was staid, sober, religious, and of a plain and busine -like character. The literature of the latter part of Louis XIV. 's reign is grave, decorous, even rigorous in tone; because such was the affectation of the court. The people are not represented in it at all. Such anomalies are now impo ible. The floating literature of the day is and must be the real expre ion of the popular mind. Now the effect of literature on the moral habits of man is incalculable. It is the remark of a profound religious writer of the present "day, that we frequently read a literary work without acquiring any positive knowledge at all, or forgetting it as soon as acquired; but very rarely without receiving some moral impre ion. And in this view we regard the predominance of literary habits in a nation as advantageous. F.or, unle public taste is very far corrupted indeed, the tone of morality in the ordinary literature of the day, to meet approval, must be good not solidly good perhaps — superficial, it may be, and oc cas i on ally false; but still more right than wrong. And such a tone of literature, reacting on the minds of the public, will tend to preserve and augment right feelings m the reading cla es. The more special tendencies of literary habits seem to be to soften the disposition, to melt down rancorous feelings, — to encourage benevolence of sentiment, and a ready sympathy with generous conduct. That they serve e entially to promote self-denial and self-devotion, and virtue of the higher order, we do not contend; but we see no ground for the suspicion which some entertain that they are incompatible with the sterner stuff of these more serious qualities, or tend to weaken the main springs of thought and action. On the other hand, although a prevalence of literary habits may render the succe of an utterly corrupt style of literature more improbable; yet, when such succe does occur, its effects must be infinitely more noxious and destructive. Were such a taste as French lighter literature has of late exhibited likely to obtain a real ascendency in that coimtry, there could not be a more powerful cause, as well as decisive symptom, of national degeneracy; but, in truth, it will prove only a temporary extravagance. One more effect of the spread of literary habits remains to be not if-ed — the enormously increased importance of 670 LITHOMANCY. what may now be justly termed the literary profe ion. Such fortunes as that of Sir Walter Scott are phenomena belonging to this age alone. At this moment (November, 1840) the two contending party leaders in France, on whom the eyes of Europe are fixed, are writers by profe ion, who have risen to their present eminence through literary distinction; and of the most noted public men on both sides, several belong to the same cla . Spain has had a play-writer for her prime minister. In Germany, when a national movement is attempted against an alleged act of usurpation on the part of a sovereign, those who a ume the lead are the profe ors of an university. In England, the le excitable nature of the people, and the great influence of wealth and aristocratic distinction, have kept the great men of the pre hitherto in a state of comparative subordination. But a little attention to the signs of the times will lead us to suspect that, if the frame of our society were shaken by any sudden impulse, men of this cla would a ume a more marked position than they have hitherto occupied. This is the briiliant side of the picture. On the other hand, the multiplication of a body of men whose employment is e entially precarious, their remuneration irregular, their education high, their tastes luxurious, their wants numerous, their succe requiring a constant strain upon the spirits and activity of the brain, is in some respects a thing to be regretted. In ill-governed and restle communities they form the most dangerous cla ; in orderly and flourishing ones they contribute greatly to the brilliancy of society, but at the expense of much of their own peace and happine . We have outlived the days when the ideas of poverty and learning were habitually a ociated, and the custom of the humiliating dependence of intellect on wealth, — Toil, envy, want, the patron and the gaol; but the young aspirant to literary distinction maybe usefully reminded of the words of a great writer of our day. " Never" (that is, with a free choice before you) " pursue literature as a profe ion. It would be a sort of irreligion, and scarcely le than a libel on human nature, to believe that there is any established and respectable profe ion or employment in which a man may not contrive to act with honesty and honour; and doubtle there is likewise none which may not at times present temptations to the contrary. But wofully will that man find himself mistaken who imagines that the profe ion of literature or, to speak more plainly, the trade of authorship, besets its members with fewer or with le insidious temptations than the church, the law, or the different branches of commerce. Let literature be an honourable augmentation to your arms, but never fill the escutcheon." {Cole ridge, Auto biograph i a Lileraria.) LITHA'RGE, Lythargyrum. (Gr. XtQos, a stone, and x^yuqei, silver; probably from its silvery appearance.) Fused oxide of lead. See Lead. LI'THIA. {Gt. XtBui>i,lapideous.) A rare alkaline substance, discovered in 1818 by M. Arfwedson in a mineral called petalite; it has also been found in some other lapideous bodies. It is distinguished from pota a and soda by the difficult solubility of its carbonate; from baryta, strontia, and lime, by the solubility of its sulphate and oxalate; and from magnesia by the alkalinity of its carbonate. It is the oxide of a white metal which has been named lithium; the equivalent of which is 10, and that of lithia 18. LITHI'ASIS. (Gr. Xiflej, a stone.) The disease of stone in the bladder or kidney. LITHIC ACID. (Gr. XiBoi.) The substance generally termed uric acid: it forms the commonest variety of urinary calculus. LITHO DENDRON. (Gr.X/Pof, and U^i^e,, a tree.) Corals have been thus designated, from their frequent arborescent appearance. LITHODE'RMIS. (Gr. XiBos, and iig/Mt, skin.) A genus of Apodal Echinoderms, in the system of Cuvier; characterized by an oval body compre ed posteriorly, of which the surface is covered with a layer of calcareous granules, which form an extremely indurated crust. LI'THODOMES, Lithodoma. (Gr. X Page 684