one side to creative criticism on the other. Matthew Arnold's essay on Amiel, an essay which is a little masterpiece of criticism, might be called a book review, inspired as it was by Mrs. Ward's translation of Amiel. If, however, I write 20 lines describing the latest text book, that also, I suppose, is not improperly called a book review. But there is a world of difference between these productions; the one is valuable only for bibliographical information, the other only for criticism. Now it seems to me a pretty accurate description of the ordinary historical book review to say of it that it aims to be both bibliography and criticism, and so ends by not being precisely either the one thing or the other: in substance it is an expanded bibliographical note, while in form it affects the mannerisms of the literary critique.
Just consider what it is of real value that one gets from the general run of book reviews. Is it not information of a bibliographical nature, information which can be briefly set down on a small card, thus enabling one to speak intelligently about the book without ever having seen it? All very well; but why is this information swelled to two pages instead of being compressed to ten lines? The reason is that the historical book review still maintains the traditions of the essay in criticism. The reviewer is expected to put his best pen for ward, and, besides giving all necessary bibliographical information, to make some remarks of a general nature appropriate to the occasion. Knowing what is expected, the faithful fellow does his best; opens perhaps with a kind of introduction, throwing in here an epigram and there a classical allusion; very likely begins an analysis or a comparison which there is not space to finish; hastily concludes with a falling inflection which not infrequently half withdraws the sting of a caustic introduction. One readily sees in these characteristics the stunted survivals of a once flourishing species; so that the typical historical review has often all the appearance of a leisurely essay ruthlessly deleted by some unfeeling editor.
Well, for my part, I wish our editors might be even more unfeeling and more ruthless. I wish they might altogether destroy this hybrid creature which is not bibliography simply, and is criticism only in appearance. Bibliographical information is an excellent thing, and historical criticism is an excellent thing; but they are very different things, and both would probably be better done if we did not boil them together in the same pot. Let us, then, in our reviewing, separate what is bibliography from what professes to be criticism: of bibliographical information let us have as much as possible, and of criticism let us have at least a little, and have that little excellent.
In respect to the bibliographical information which the professional student requires, the essential points are the author, title, and date of the book, the subject precisely indicated, the sources
