mentally comprehend the unity of the discourse, but would only, through his eye, embrace the extent of it included within his range of vision, hold this fast upon the paper and by means of the paper;—and then imagine that he had comprehended it.
Arrived at this point, I said, the scientific effort of the Age has destroyed itself! and the Race stands in absolute impotence on the one side, and in absolute incapacity on the other, for farther cultivation:—the Age can no longer read, and therefore all writing is in vain. Thus it is high time to begin something new,—and, in my opinion, this something should be, on the one side, to return to the method of spoken discourse, and to cultivate proficiency in this Art;—and on the other, to acquire the requisite capacities for appreciating this form of communication.
If reading is still to be practised, it should at least be in another way than is customary now. In order that I may follow up the repulsive description which I have had to bring before you to-day, with something more pleasing, allow me to say what mode of reading I hold to be the right one.
Whatever ought to be read in print, is either a work of Science, or a product of Literature: whatever is neither of these, and is without relation to one or other of them, is much better unread, and might as well have remained unwritten.
In the first place, with respect to works of Science:—The first object of reading them is to understand them, and to apprehend historically the true meaning of the Author. To do this, we must not passively resign ourselves to our Author, and suffer him to mould us as chance or fortune may direct; or accept at once whatever dicta he may choose to propound, and so depart, and get these by rote. But as the Experimentalist subjects Nature to his interrogatories, and compels her not to speak at random but to reply to
