The collected works of William Hazlitt, Vol. 07 (of 12)Hazlitt, William
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The collected works of William Hazlitt, Vol. 07 (of 12)
Hazlitt, William
English essays -- 19th century
When I take up a work that I have read before (the oftener the better) I
know what I have to expect. The satisfaction is not lessened by being
anticipated. When the entertainment is altogether new, I sit down to it
as I should to a strange dish,—turn and pick out a bit here and there,
and am in doubt what to think of the composition. There is a want of
confidence and security to second appetite. New-fangled books are also
like made-dishes in this respect, that they are generally little else
than hashes and _rifaccimentos_ of what has been served up entire and in
a more natural state at other times. Besides, in thus turning to a
well-known author, there is not only an assurance that my time will not
be thrown away, or my palate nauseated with the most insipid or vilest
trash,—but I shake hands with, and look an old, tried, and valued friend
in the face,—compare notes, and chat the hours away. It is true, we form
dear friendships with such ideal guests—dearer, alas! and more lasting,
than those with our most intimate acquaintance. In reading a book which
is an old favourite with me (say the first novel I ever read) I not only
have the pleasure of imagination and of a critical relish of the work,
but the pleasures of memory added to it. It recals the same feelings and
associations which I had in first reading it, and which I can never have
again in any other way. Standard productions of this kind are links in
the chain of our conscious being. They bind together the different
scattered divisions of our personal identity. They are land-marks and
guides in our journey through life. They are pegs and loops on which we
can hang up, or from which we can take down, at pleasure, the wardrobe
of a moral imagination, the relics of our best affections, the tokens
and records of our happiest hours. They are ‘for thoughts and for
remembrance!’ They are like Fortunatus’s Wishing-Cap—they give us the
best riches—those of Fancy; and transport us, not over half the globe,
but (which is better) over half our lives, at a word’s notice!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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