Sparkle and Glitter more Valuable than Justice.
The great writers are in the same position with a difference. They need not amuse; but they are bound to provide a stirring stimulus. Was Victor Hugo a just writer? Was Carlyle? They knew their business, which was to be forcible; but nobody who understood their nature, or their art either, would go to Victor Hugo for a faithful account of the English, or to Carlyle for an exact appreciation of the French. Or shall we turn to Michelet and Ruskin?—both makers of delightful prose, but too much biassed by their own genius to be just. In literature force and brilliance, nay, even mere glassy sparkle or glitter of tinsel, are more effective qualities than the hesitancy that cannot round off a sentence without stopping to inquire whether the praise in it is not too much for the occasion, or the censure undeserved.
Suppose that a just writer were asked to give, in five or six lines, his opinion of the railway system, and its action for good and evil, how would he describe it?
A just Account of Railways.
He might say, “The use of railways is to transport merchandise and passengers quickly and cheaply. They favour human intercourse by enabling people to meet in spite of distance, and to exchange letters without delay. They are sometimes, to a limited extent, injurious to beautiful scenery. Railway travelling is sometimes injurious to health; and railway accidents occasionally cause loss of life.”
This is exactly just and true; but it has the fatal defect of being commonplace. It is also quite destitute of sublimity. Now listen to Mr. Ruskin on the same subject.
A Powerful Description of Railways.
“They are to me the loathsomest form of devilry now extant, animated and deliberate earthquakes, destructive of all wise social habits and possible natural beauty, carriages of damned souls on the ridges of their own graves.”
Analysis of Mr. Ruskin’s Description.
These lines have several most valuable literary qualities. They give a shock of surprise, they captivate attention, they entirely avoid the quagmire of the commonplace. They introduce very sublime elements, the Miltonic elements of devilry, earthquakes, and lost spirits. There is, too, a mysterious grandeur about the damned souls who take railway tickets and travel over their own corpses buried in the embankments. But is this account of railways accurate and true? Is it just to the memory of George Stephenson?