[1] See § 159, (written seven years ago,) in ‘Munera Pulveris.’ [↑]
FORS CLAVIGERA.
LETTER XI.
Denmark Hill.
15th October, 1871.
My Friends,
A day seldom passes, now that people begin to notice these Letters a little, without my receiving a remonstrance on the absurdity of writing “so much above the level” of those whom I address.
I have said, however, that eventually you shall understand, if you care to understand, every word in these pages. Through all this year I have only been putting questions; some of them such as have puzzled the wisest, and which may, for a long time yet, prove too hard for you and me: but, next year, I will go over all the ground again, answering the questions, where I know of any answers; or making them plain for your examination, when I know of none.
But, in the meantime, be it admitted, for argument’s sake, that this way of writing, which is easy to me, and which most educated persons can easily understand, is very much above your level. I want to know why it is assumed so quietly that your brains must always be at a low level? Is it essential to the doing of the work by which England exists, that its workmen should not be able to understand scholar’s English, (remember, I only assume mine to be so for argument’s sake), but only newspaper’s English? I chanced, indeed, to take up a number of ‘Belgravia’ the other day, which contained a violent attack on an old enemy of mine—‘Blackwood’s Magazine’; and I enjoyed the attack mightily, until ‘Belgravia’ declared, by way of coup-de-grace to ‘Blackwood,’ that something which ‘Blackwood’ had spoken of as settled in one way had been irrevocably settled the other way,—“settled,” said triumphant ‘Belgravia,’ “in seventy-two newspapers.”