“Let me a little show it”; let me give a little proof.
C. Sentences. The first sentence means: If I could beg others to change their purposes, I could be induced to change mine; but I am as fixed in my conclusions as the north star is fixed in the heavens. The second sentence says: As there are unnumbered movable stars in the heavens and only one that is fixed, so in the world there are unnumbered changeable men and only one who is fixed in his determination; that I am the one determined man let me prove a little by saying that, as I was persistent in banishing Cimber so will I continue to keep him in banishment.
D. The paragraph. The whole speech is a refusal on Cæsar’s part to grant the petition of the conspirators who plead that Cimber may be brought back from banishment. The words are well calculated to stir up resentment and to fix the plotters in their plan to murder Cæsar. Even Brutus would be convinced by such sentiments that Cæsar was a dangerous man; if the great Roman thought himself the only man with such determination, might he not think himself the one man of the world in all respects? The conspirators were looking for an excuse for killing Cæsar, and they might find it in this speech; Brutus was being led to believe that Cæsar was too ambitious and here was the final argument to convince him.
CHAPTER X
Close Reading—(Concluded)
The Author—Figures of Speech
Real appreciation of literature is dependent on effort, and each acquired impression aids all others in proportion to its intensity. We can interpret only by what our minds already contain, so that the earlier years of one’s reading are largely devoted to the acquirement of material for future use. In this way the myths and folk stories with which children fill their minds become the touchstones that enable them in later years to read with interest and judge accurately the literature that falls within their reach. The later one begins his reading, the more difficult it is for him to master the art. He has not the simplest standards of literary judgment nor even the ideas from which such standards are to be formed. Elegance of style and skill in the choice of words are entirely lost upon him, as is the delicate meaning involved in the play of appropriate figures and in the brilliance of the pictures limned in colors to which his eye is blind. Such a person can come to enjoy the pleasures of literature, but it is by way of a long and careful course of study, and it is probable that his appreciation will never be as keen as it would have been if he had gathered his literary stock in trade at the same time that his senses were first opening to the world. Then the skies and the flowers, the song of birds and the hum of insects, the quiet reaches of still lakes and the roaring surge, gave to him the sensations to which literature appeals.
There is no need for one to feel discouragement when at first he does not admire all that the critics say is beautiful, but prefers some of the simple things that he knew in his childhood. The critic is right from his point of view, but there is merit, too, in the judgment of the humble reader. A person would hesitate to say the critic’s judgment is the higher were it not for the fact that anyone reading carefully will find his tastes changing and constantly approximating higher standards. Each year brings him nearer to the critic’s position and he sees excellence and is touched by beauty in selections that before have been devoid of any interest. It is to aid this growth in power of comprehension, this refinement of taste, that one reads.
The Author. When the study relates to a specific selection it is wise to create an interest by looking for all the contributory aids that can be found. Sometimes a knowledge of the life of the author or of the circumstances under which the selection was written will stimulate a desire to know what has been said and will moreover assist to make the meaning clear and to create the same sentiment that inspired the writer. To know that Snow-Bound is a description of Whittier’s own home, that the people about the fireside are his own parents, brothers, sisters, and that he paints them with a loving touch after all but the one brother have passed to the other side, is to make the poem appeal to our emotions with an intensity which the beautiful lines alone could not effect. Ichabod we read once, but when we know the meaning of its spiritual name and remember that it is Whittier’s indignant rebuke of Webster for his vacillating policy in the slavery agitation, we read it again with a renewed and more vivid interest. Many things, however, are so universal that one cares not whether they were written by a Hindoo or an American, whether they are full of personal experience or drawn with the fervor of the most ardent imagination. Wordsworth’s Daffodils (Volume VII, page 1) would charm us and our hearts would dance as joyfully if we knew nothing of the pensive poet of the English lakes.