The Essays of Arthur Schopenhauer | Page 4

is perfectly right in holding that
neglect of the ancient classics, which are the best of all models in the
art of writing, will infallibly lead to a degeneration of literature.
And the method of discovering the best qualities of style, and of
forming a theory of writing, is not to follow some trick or mannerism
that happens to please for the moment, but to study the way in which
great authors have done their best work.
It will be said that Schopenhauer tells us nothing we did not know
before. Perhaps so; as he himself says, the best things are seldom new.
But he puts the old truths in a fresh and forcible way; and no one who
knows anything of good literature will deny that these truths are just
now of very fit application.
It was probably to meet a real want that, a year or two ago, an
ingenious person succeeded in drawing a great number of English and
American writers into a confession of their literary creed and the art
they adopted in authorship; and the interesting volume in which he
gave these confessions to the world contained some very good advice,
although most of it had been said before in different forms. More
recently a new departure, of very doubtful use, has taken place; and two
books have been issued, which aim, the one at being an author's manual,
the other at giving hints on essays and how to write them.
A glance at these books will probably show that their authors have still
something to learn.
Both of these ventures seem, unhappily, to be popular; and, although
they may claim a position next-door to that of the present volume I beg
to say that it has no connection with them whatever. Schopenhauer
does not attempt to teach the art of making bricks without straw.
I wish to take this opportunity of tendering my thanks to a large
number of reviewers for the very gratifying reception given to the
earlier volumes of this series. And I have great pleasure in expressing
my obligations to my friend Mr. W.G. Collingwood, who has looked
over most of my proofs and often given me excellent advice in my

effort to turn Schopenhauer into readable English.
T.B.S.

ON AUTHORSHIP.
There are, first of all, two kinds of authors: those who write for the
subject's sake, and those who write for writing's sake. While the one
have had thoughts or experiences which seem to them worth
communicating, the others want money; and so they write, for money.
Their thinking is part of the business of writing. They may be
recognized by the way in which they spin out their thoughts to the
greatest possible length; then, too, by the very nature of their thoughts,
which are only half-true, perverse, forced, vacillating; again, by the
aversion they generally show to saying anything straight out, so that
they may seem other than they are. Hence their writing is deficient in
clearness and definiteness, and it is not long before they betray that
their only object in writing at all is to cover paper. This sometimes
happens with the best authors; now and then, for example, with Lessing
in his _Dramaturgie_, and even in many of Jean Paul's romances. As
soon as the reader perceives this, let him throw the book away; for time
is precious. The truth is that when an author begins to write for the sake
of covering paper, he is cheating the reader; because he writes under
the pretext that he has something to say.
Writing for money and reservation of copyright are, at bottom, the ruin
of literature. No one writes anything that is worth writing, unless he
writes entirely for the sake of his subject. What an inestimable boon it
would be, if in every branch of literature there were only a few books,
but those excellent! This can never happen, as long as money is to be
made by writing. It seems as though the money lay under a curse; for
every author degenerates as soon as he begins to put pen to paper in
any way for the sake of gain. The best works of the greatest men all
come from the time when they had to write for nothing or for very little.
And here, too, that Spanish proverb holds good, which declares that
honor and money are not to be found in the same purse--honora y
provecho no caben en un saco. The reason why Literature is in such a
bad plight nowadays is simply and solely that people write books to
make money. A man who is in want sits down and writes a book, and
the public is stupid enough to buy it. The secondary effect of this is the

ruin of