strengthened and unified, by the consideration of it from this two-fold point of view.

There are three aspects of Literature which govern any logical conception of it as a subject of study: we may look at it from the standpoint of its matter or content, and from the standpoint of its form, and from the standpoint of its imaginative atmosphere. In an abstract way these three aspects may be considered separately; but in actual literature they are never found apart, and they are essentially interconnected.

When logically analysed, the essential nature of the subject-matter or content of literature is found to be that it should deal with living reality, with some aspect or aspects of the universe which shall appeal to the reader as being real and vital. Literature includes within its scope the whole of experience-life in all its fulness and variety-the experience of all the people who have lived or might have lived or may live: there is no event, no state of mind, no phase of life which, treated in the appropriate manner, may not form part of its subject-matter. It is from this close relationship of literature to life that, for the ordinary reader, the chief interest and attraction of literature proceeds; and for the literary critic also this relationship is of the first importance. In the volume entitled Appreciations, with an Essay on Style, Mr Walter Pater has pointed out that the distinction between great art and good art depends immediately, "as regards literature at all events, not on its form, but on the matter.......It is on the quality of the matter it informs or controls, its compass, its variety, its alliance to great ends, or the depth of the note of revolt, or the largeness of hope in

it, that the greatness of literary art depends, as The Divine Comedy, Paradise Lost, Les Misérables, The English Bible, are great art." A literary critic may be absorbed in observing and commenting upon features of diction and style; but his observations and comments will be valueless if he does not recognise that these features must be judged, not abstractly, in themselves, but in their relation to truth, in so far as they reflect life and reality. Thus Sainte-Beuve said: "I hold very little to literary opinions. Literary opinions hold very little place in my life and in my thoughts. What does occupy me seriously is life itself and the object of it." And again: “there is one word," said Maurice de Guérin, "which is the God of my imagination, the tyrant, I ought rather to say, that fascinates it, lures it onward, gives it work to do without ceasing, and will finally carry it I know not where; the word life."

The consideration of the formal aspect of literature as a subject of study may be said to include within its scope in the first place the structural form, and in the second place the language and diction, of literary works.

We have seen that the subject-matter of literature, dealing as it does with all the aspects of life, is varied, but at the same time the essence of it-its close relationship to life and reality—is always the same. So too the structural form of literature is varied: it differs in the lyric, in narrative and in epic poetry, in the drama, and in the novel; yet the essence of it is always one, and, when logically analysed, it is found to lie in the suitable adaptation of means to an end. In the producing of a work of art the artist's mind is dominated, consciously or sub-consciously, by an artistic

end or purpose which moulds the work as a whole and in each of its parts. "In literary as in all other art," says Mr Walter Pater, in his Essay on Style (op. cit.), "structure is all-important, felt, or painfully missed, everywhere—that architectural conception of work which foresees the end in the beginning and never loses sight of it, and in every part is conscious of all the rest, till the last sentence does but, with undiminished vigour, unfold and justify the first." And this literary architecture, if it is to be rich and expressive, involves not only foresight of the end in the beginning, but also development or growth of design in the process of execution, with many irregularities, surprises, and after-thoughts; the contingent as well as the necessary being subsumed under the unity of the whole."

Again, if we consider the form of literature in relation to the diction and language employed, the choice of words and the build of sentences and paragraphs, we find that here also the essential underlying principle is the adaptation of means to ends. The form of a literary work, alike in its general architectural design and in the details of language and diction, is moulded by, and must be essentially adapted to, the nature of its subject-matter. Thus if a poet had chosen for his theme events and deeds of a lofty nature, embodying the thought of an epoch or breathing the aspirations of a people, his work would fall naturally into the epic form. On the other hand, if he wished to express a single thought, his work would assume naturally such a rigidly limited poetic form as the sonnet. So too the diction of literature is moulded by its subject-matter:

the essence of literary diction is its adaptation of means to ends, its fitness and appropriateness as a means of expressing the subject-matter: in the highest literature the word and the idea are fused and united with absolute justice: the right word, the happy phrase, is struck out in the mind of the writer from contact with reality, as naturally as a spark of fire is struck from a flint. The varieties of literary diction are many: it may be clear, simple, idiomatic, involved, rugged, colloquial, learned, terse, quaint, polished, ornate; but it must always be marked by the essential quality of fitness and truth.

The third element in literature which helps to form our logical conception of it as a subject of study is the element of imaginative atmosphere. Every work of creative literature is permeated by a distinctive imaginative atmosphere. The artist's temperament and all his past experience have woven a variously coloured tissue through which he sees the world as bathed in a variety of distinct and blending hues-the charmed hues of imagination and fancy. The varieties of imaginative atmosphere, as found in creative literature, are innumerable; and as it is the most refined and subtle expression of temperament and personality there is in it an incalculable element that cannot be analysed. Yet the general essence of it may be discovered, and it is always the same: like the essential principle underlying the outward form of literature, it too consists in the adaptation of means to an end, worked out here in obedience to a fine sense of aesthetic fitness and harmony. This sense of fitness will lead the artist to select this imaginative element, and to reject that, as

purpose; and Just as the

being appropriate or inappropriate to his the result will be unity of atmosphere. outward form of a literary work must be marked by unity in the midst of difference, by the harmonious adjustment of the different parts in relation to the whole, so too its inward spirit, its atmosphere, must be marked by harmony. And this harmony of atmosphere is not independent of the adaptation of means to ends in structure and diction: if there be no unity of form and little appropriateness of diction in a literary work there can be no unity of atmosphere. The nature of the subject-matter must be reflected throughout in the appropriate structure and diction and imaginative atmosphere. The three aspects of literature as a subject of study-its content, its form, and its appeal to the imagination—must always be considered as being in close and necessary relation to one another.

It has been said above that the subject-matter of literature is life and reality; and from this truth the teacher may draw the most important inference that the study of literature on the side of its subject-matter may be made valuable and interesting at all stages of the curriculum. It is sometimes asserted that literary study is of value to only a limited number of pupils, to those who are naturally gifted with an artistic temperament. But as we are all interested, or capable of interest, in life, so we are all capable of being interested in the study of literature from the side of its subjectmatter. Art has been defined generally as being “an expression, satisfying and abiding, of the zest of life1"; and this is true in the sense that every artist in his 1 The Private Papers of Henry Ryecroft, by George Gissing.