Among My Books. First Series

In Short

This collection of essays serves as a sophisticated guided tour through the literary landscape of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. By pairing deep dives into authors like Dryden, Shakespeare, and Lessing with investigations into the cultural phenomena of witchcraft and the social life of the American Puritans, the work functions as a series of intellectual portraits. It resists the sterility of traditional criticism, preferring instead to find the living, breathing human element within classic texts. It remains a vital read for those who seek to understand how great writing connects to the universal pulse of human experience.

The Story

The collection opens with a vigorous re-evaluation of John Dryden, challenging the historical tendency to use him merely as a stick to beat the poets of later generations. By stripping away the "periwig" style of artificial criticism, the argument moves toward a nuanced appreciation of Dryden’s erratic but undeniable genius. From there, the narrative shifts toward the historical obsession with witchcraft. Rather than a dry academic chronicle, this section explores how human fear and theological rigidity transformed folklore and pagan tradition into a dark, structured system of belief—a cautionary tale regarding the fragility of individual judgment when confronted by the crushing weight of public consensus.

The focus then pivots to the towering figure of Shakespeare. Here, the argument emphasizes his unique position as a man of two worlds: the rustic, vital language of the English countryside and the cosmopolitan, evolving dialect of London. Shakespeare is presented not as a product of rigid rules, but as an artist who surpassed them by finding an "imaginative unity" that allows his work to remain perpetually relevant. This section serves as a bridge to a broader examination of the New England Puritans. Through the correspondence of the Winthrop family, the reader is invited to look past the caricature of the "Pilgrim Father" to see the complex, often contradictory individuals who labored to build a commonwealth on the uneasy bedrock of faith and practical necessity.

The trajectory concludes with an analysis of Gotthold Ephraim Lessing and Jean-Jacques Rousseau, two thinkers who helped navigate the transition from the stifling formality of the eighteenth century to a more authentic mode of expression. The examination of Lessing centers on his struggle against the "dead waste" of stagnant German literature, while the piece on Rousseau acts as a final meditation on the nature of sincerity. The argument posits that while Rousseau was a man of intense, shifting moods, he possessed an intellectual honesty that separated him from the mere "sentimentalists" who traded in hollow phrases. The book ends by insisting that true genius—whether in the creation of a play or the living of a life—must ultimately manifest as an achievement of the will rather than a mere accident of temperament.

How It Unfolds

The critical landscape The inquiry begins by dismantling the habit of treating older poets as stagnant models for the young. It insists that Dryden’s true value lies in his energy and genius, not in his adherence to the narrow rules set by later critics.

The dark history of belief The discussion turns to the mechanisms of superstition, showing how communal fear and religious zeal invented the "witch" as a necessary villain. This section illustrates how easily the individual mind can be trammeled by the momentum of a superstitious mob.

The anatomy of a genius The focus shifts to the linguistic and artistic miracle of Shakespeare. It argues that his supremacy stems from his ability to fuse the real and the ideal, creating a style so perfect that it defies imitation.

The domestic life of ideals The narrative moves to colonial New England, using private letters to humanize the Puritans. It invites the reader to step behind the curtain of history and see these figures not as icons, but as people grappling with the tensions of their era.

The search for sincerity The final movement examines the lives of Lessing and Rousseau to distinguish between empty sentiment and genuine conviction. It concludes that the measure of a thinker is not the beauty of their words, but the dedication of their life to their principles.

The People

The book is populated by figures who exist as much as ideas as they do as historical entities. John Dryden appears as a man of formidable contradictions, possessing an "easy strength" in his writing that often conflicts with his tendency toward the bombastic. In the chapters on the Puritans, the Winthrop family serves as the anchor; they are revealed not through grand speeches, but through the small, revealing details of their correspondence, showing a mix of mystical depth and narrow-mindedness.

Shakespeare stands apart as the only figure presented with an almost mythical status, though he is grounded by his status as a "representative Englishman" who possessed an uncanny gift for language. Gotthold Ephraim Lessing is portrayed as the intellectual liberator of his time, a man who possessed the "cool eyes" necessary to see through the posturing of the era's literary duds. Finally, Jean-Jacques Rousseau emerges as the most volatile of the bunch—a man of "mobile temperament" who was often trapped by his own emotions but remained, at his core, intellectually fearless. Each figure is judged not by their reputation, but by their ability to reconcile their inner truths with the demands of their respective worlds.

In Its Own Voice

"Love comes and goes with music in his feet, And tunes young pulses to his roundelays; Love brings thee this: will it persuade thee, Sweet, That he turns proser when he comes and stays?"

This verse captures the fleeting, musical nature of early affection before it settles into the prose of long-term reality.

"One cannot think of a Louis Quatorze Apollo except in a full-bottomed periwig, and the tragic style of their poets is always showing the disastrous influence of that portentous comet."

This sharp observation mocks the artificiality of the French tragic style, which the author feels was weighed down by the rigid, ornamental conventions of the time.

What It's Really About

The book explores the tension between the artificial and the authentic. It asks whether literature should be a matter of adhering to established, "classical" norms or a manifestation of the "mens divinior"—the divine mind—hidden within the everyday world. The underlying argument is that true art and true living require a departure from the "periwig" of conventionality. By investigating how we build our history, our superstitions, and our literary canons, the text interrogates the human desire for order. It questions whether we are defining ourselves by our own values or simply by the echoes of those who came before us, ultimately arguing that sincerity and an active, questioning will are the only reliable guides through a world prone to confusion and "abominable fustian."

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy literary criticism that avoids the dry, jargon-heavy posturing of modern academia will find this work deeply rewarding. The prose is warm, conversational, and often biting, written by someone who has clearly spent a long life in the company of great books. It feels less like a lecture and more like a walk through a well-tended library with a mentor who is just as likely to share a laugh at a historical absurdity as they are to offer a profound insight into a Shakespearean sonnet.

However, the modern reader should be prepared for the book's period attitudes and its reliance on the assumption that the reader is already well-versed in the classics. The author’s style is occasionally dense, reflecting the Victorian tendency toward lengthy, complex sentences that require a patient and attentive eye. Additionally, the references to specific historical documents and minor 18th-century writers may occasionally feel obscure. Yet, for those who appreciate the hunt for intellectual clarity, the rewards are significant. What stays with you is not merely the facts of the historical arguments, but the author’s contagious enthusiasm for the "inner man" and the firm belief that literature—when stripped of its formalist pretenses—remains the most reliable mirror of the human soul.