and exists there clearly, since this intuition is a full, immediate turning of the mind on any object. The externalization generally requires a working out in detail of this intuition; reflection and thought are rarely dispensed with in giving the exterior form to an intuition.

What we have said so far regarding literature is all we should require for art in its primary phase of the expression of artistic activity, for writing to be ranked as literary art—an underlying intuition externalized in a form of sufficient workmanship every part of which tends to mirror this artistic vision of the author.

As with art in general, we cannot see how literature thus considered has any further mission than that of fulfilling the writer's purpose; namely, to communicate a vision, an inner experience to mankind, which the writer considers worth communicating. However, when we view literature as a work of art set before the public, not merely as a product of artistic genius but as a work naturally influencing those who read it, we certainly agree with Brownson that literature must accord with the purpose of human existence like every other activity. Our only contention is, just as with art above, that this standard of judgment does not tell us what is literature and what is not. As Brownson points out, a work of literature cannot be separated from its surroundings and must be considered a strong moulding factor in life, since it will necessarily have an influence on readers. Hence arises a duty on the part of literature not to oppose the good of mankind. This duty, as with art, is negative rather than positive and flows from the very essence of life. Beyond this, who is to decide what special purpose literature must pursue? Enumerations are frequently made of specific lines along which literature must serve mankind. Rightly understood they are merely an enumeration of some of the possibilities of literature; and if more than this is intended, if they are set up as restrictive laws, they only serve to hamper the freedom of artistic activity. However, they are alweys useful in judging of the merit or rank of different literary productions, in helping to decide which production comes nearest to fulfilling the possibilities of literature. These 'purposes' ought to follow from the nature of literature and art, and we should call an enumeration of them incomplete if any sources of human

interest are omitted, any factors that men take into consideration when judging of the merit of a literary work.

ers.

Brownson correctly enunciated the principle that literature merely must avoid everything that is against the end of man, and need do no more; but he frequently went beyond it himself. He was careful not to demand positive instruction of the literary artist, though he never excluded instruction altogether from literature. He contradicts himself, however, when he condemns all literature that merely satisfies the literary taste of readAfter all, innocent pleasure is a worthy aim and not to be despised. Besides, it is in the very essence of all literature or art that it conveys some knowledge, however small, of human nature and of life. Works that serve merely for pleasure surely cannot be excluded from literature. On the contrary, as Bagehot says, "in a state of high civilization it is no simple matter to give multitudes a large and healthy enjoyment."78 Still, to literary works that give mere enjoyment, such as leave no effect whatever on the reader after they are laid aside, we should assign the lowest place as art, giving a higher place to works the more they combine with the element of human interest that of spiritual worthiness. All works of literary art, in order to reach their audience, must contain some element that is of interest to the hunman race. As we said above about art in general, this element may be supplied by beauty of thought, beauty of form, greatness of intuitive power displayed, force of truth expresed, even technical skill of the writer, etc., but generally by the manner in which these are balanced in a work.79 The greater the appeal that a work makes through any element of human intreest to what is noblest in human nature, in other words, the greater the spiritual worthiness of any work, the higher does it stand in the realm of literary art. It was this spiritual worthiness that Brownson demanded in a high degree in all literature. And that he excluded works from the realm of art that did not have a positive appeal to what is the ideal relation of man to man and to God, was due to enthusiasm

78 Op. cit., ii, 226.

79 Compare with Quiller-Couch who makes 'persuasiveness' a quality of writing as of all art and says that it embraces all the other qualities, "all in short that........may be summed up under the word Charm." On the Art of Writing, p. 42. New York 1916.

for his cause, which made spiritual worthiness consist entirely in supernatural worth. Art considered as the artistic activity did not exist for him apart from this supernatural value, or even apart from the work as affecting mankind in any manner. The criterion of ethical uplift that he used does not tell us how to distinguish literary from non-art, as we have already indicated. If we take another criterion he mentioned, that literature should move and please rather than convince, we do not get much further, since pleasing in no way excludes convincing. It is necessary therefore to make properly the distinction between artistic activity and the value of a work to mankind. The former alone decides what works are to be considered literary art. The spiritual worthiness is a second, though not a secondary, consideration, and cannot suffice as the sole criterion of literary or any other art.

2. THE SOCIOLOGICAL CONCEPTION OF LITERATURE

Brownson's idea of literature as a powerful sociological factor is fully in accordance with his view of art as tending to raise man towards his Creator. If all art should elevate man, then surely this elevation is doubly the duty of literature as the latter is so intimately connected with the life of man. But is literature so closely interwoven with society, as Brownson claims, that it arises altogether out of the needs of the times, out of the social fermentation that is in the people for the time being? Is it true that the times create the men? The question is probably not wholly solvable, and would be of little importance if there were not persons who contend that literature must spring from the thought of its day or be condemned. Arnold inclines to this opinion, but checks himself cautiously: "Now in literature,....the elements with which the creative power works are ideas; the best ideas on every matter which literature touches, current at the time; at any rate we may lay it down as certain that in modern literature no manifestation of the creative power not working with these can be very important or fruitful." And later he adds: "For the creation of a masterwork of literature two powers must concur, the power of the man and the power of the moment."80 Of these two, we consid

80 Essays Literary and Critical, pp. 3, 4.

Everyman's Library.

er, of course, the power of the man, the artistic genius, as the only indispensable requisite of an artistic work; and we hold that the nature of the content of the artistic intuition is secondary, provided only that the intuition be above that of the ordinary mind. But the question as enunciated by Brownson is one of fact rather than of law, and therefore less important. In general it is most natural for the literary artist to find his inspiration in the thought that pervades the age, as that is the atmosphere which he breathes, and as that always contains an element not only of special interest at his time but also of permanent human interest. The spirit and the thought of the day lie closest to hand, and are therefore most likely to offer an inspiration to the creative power of the artist.

The close union between literature and society Brownson emphasizes as twofold; and if the origin of literature from society as such is not so important a matter, this does not hold of the effect of literature on society. The question is not one of the presence of artistic intuition, but of art in its influence, of literature as a powerful factor in the formation of views of life. As such it has well been called "a living activity........a genuine function of the social body," and "a primary means by which the race advances."81 The position of literature in human progress, as a formulator or popularizer of thought, certainly cannot be stressed too much since it is in the very essence of art that such an effect is present. The critic, the man who stands as judge of the value of any work, of its meaning to mankind, must make this one of his chief considerations; and much harm would be avoided if the influence of art and literature were more generally kept in mind. Brownson himself in his younger days advocated that the adjustment of the disparity between classes, and similar questions, be a prime object of literature, thus recalling Tolstoi's idea of art as a teacher of the common brotherhood of man. However in his later writings, he takes a correcter view and tempers his appeals for the uplift of man with the caution that such effects. on the part of literature are due rather to its indirect influence. Still this view is not altogether in accordance with his plea that the only mission of literature is the advance of the human race..

81 Gertrude Buck, Op. cit., pp. 31, 40.

For why should literature or art work only indirectly towards what is its avowed direct mission?

Since literature derives its influence from the fact that it exerts an appeal on readers, it is paramount for the welfare of man that this appeal be not made to the lower instincts, but to the higher and nobler sentiments in man. The latter Brownson defines simply as those sentiments that are common to universal human nature, and he identifies them with the criterion. of good taste, and the ideal that is identical with the highest True, Good, and Beautiful. The connection here is obvious between his literary and aesthetic principles, and enough has been said on the matter in the preceding chapter.

Brownson pleads not only against catering to the popular instincts, as he calls them, but against any spirit that will tend towards discontent and social unrest. Primarily he speaks up for a joyous view of life, for the picturing of not only the depressing side of life. And surely he is right. Even if a work has all the earmarks of literary art, do these make up for the depressing effects of so many productions on all that is noble in human nature? After all their value to mankind is that of art as an influence; and the spiritual worthiness of a work depends on its ability to impart higher aspirations and a correcter view of life, one more conducive to the good of the individual and of society.

In pleading for a correct view of life Brownson is careful not to exact a life that is too ideal to be real. Of all art literature is most intimately connected with life; and by its very nature it is capable of giving more comprehensive views of life than the other forms of art. Hence the eternal question of realism and idealism in art is particularly applicable to literature. Brownson modifies his statement that all of life is the subject matter of art by the restriction that the influence on the readers must always be wholesome. However, this very restriction is in part a contradiction of the first statement. In the artistic activity there is nothing to restrict the subject-mater of art, but in the value of art to mankind there is. The excuse of those who say that evil exists in life and therefore has its place in art is true only if properly understood. The evil that exists in life exists there, not with the approbation of human nature, but against the nobler instincts