"Apply your mind to the study of either of these books--Mr. Thackeray's
or George Eliot's--and you will not find all its powers too much for
their appreciation," said Miss Hague.
Mr. Jones made a slight grimace: "Pray excuse the comparison, Miss
Hague, but you remind me of a groom of mine whom I sent up to the Great
Exhibition. When he came home again all he had to say was, 'Oh, sir, the
saddlery was beautiful!'"
"Nothing like leather!" laughed Lady Angleby.
"He showed his wit--he spoke of what he understood," said Miss Hague.
"You undertake to despise light literature, of which avowedly you know
nothing. Tell me: of the little books and tracts that you circulate,
which are the most popular?"
"The tales and stories; they are thumbed and blackened when the serious
pages are left unread," Mr. Jones admitted.
"It is the same with the higher-class periodicals that come to us from
D'Oyley's library," said Lady Angleby, pointing to the brown, buff,
orange, green, and purple magazines that furnished her round-table. "The
novels are well read, so are the social essays and the bits of gossiping
biography; but dry chapters of exploration, science, discovery, and
politics are tasted, and no more: the first page or two may be opened,
and the rest as often as not are uncut. And as they come to Brentwood,
so, but for myself, they would go away. The young people prefer the
stories, and with rare exceptions it is the same with their elders.
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