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                    THE MENTOR 1916.05.01, No. 106,
                    American Pioneer Prose Writers

                            LEARN ONE THING
                               EVERY DAY

                    MAY 1 1916      SERIAL NO. 106

                                  THE
                                MENTOR

                           AMERICAN PIONEER
                             PROSE WRITERS

                         By HAMILTON W. MABIE
                           Author and Editor

                    DEPARTMENT OF         VOLUME 4
                    LITERATURE            NUMBER 6

                         FIFTEEN CENTS A COPY




Fame In Name Only


What do we really know of them--these library gods of ours? We know
them by name; their names are household words. We know them by fame;
their fame is immortal. So we pay tribute to them by purchasing their
books--and, too often, rest satisfied with that. The riches that they
offer us are within arm’s length, and we leave them there. We go our
ways seeking for mental nourishment, when our larders at home are full.

       *       *       *       *       *

Three hundred years ago last week William Shakespeare died, but
Shakespeare, the poet, is more alive today than when his bones were
laid to rest in Stratford. It was not until seven years after his
death that the first collected edition of his works was published.
Today there are thousands of editions, and new ones appear each year.
It seems that we must all have Shakespeare in our homes. And why? Is
it simply to give character to our bookshelves; or is it because we
realize that the works of Shakespeare and of his fellow immortals are
the foundation stones of literature, and that we want to be near them
and know them?

       *       *       *       *       *

We value anniversaries most of all as occasions for placing fresh
wreaths of laurel on life’s altars. In the memory of Shakespeare, then,
let us pledge ourselves anew to our library gods. Let us turn their
glowing pages again--and read once more those inspired messages of mind
and heart in which we find life’s meaning.




[Illustration: JONATHAN EDWARDS]




American Pioneer Prose Writers

JONATHAN EDWARDS

Monograph Number One in The Mentor Reading Course


Jonathan Edwards was one of the most impressive figures of his time.
He was a deep thinker, a strong writer, a powerful theologian, and
a constructive philosopher. He was born on October 5, 1703, at East
(now South) Windsor, Connecticut. His father, Timothy Edwards, was a
minister of East Windsor, and also a tutor. Jonathan, the only son, was
the fifth of eleven children.

Even as a boy he was thoughtful and serious minded. It is recorded that
he never played the games, or got mixed up in the mischief that the
usual boy indulges in. When he was only ten years old he wrote a tract
on the soul. Two years later he wrote a really remarkable essay on the
“Flying Spider.” He entered Yale and graduated at the head of his class
as valedictorian. The next two years he spent in New Haven studying
theology. In February, 1727, he was ordained minister at Northampton,
Massachusetts. In the same year he married Sarah Pierrepont, who was an
admirable wife and became the mother of his twelve children.

In 1733 a great revival in religion began in Northampton. So intense
did this become in that winter that the business of the town was
threatened. In six months nearly 300 were admitted to the church. Of
course Edwards was a leading spirit in this revival. The orthodox
leaders of the church had no sympathy with it. At last a crisis came in
Edwards’ relations with his congregation, which finally ended in his
being driven from the church.

Edwards and his family were now thrown upon the world with nothing
to live on. After some time he became pastor of an Indian mission at
Stockbridge, Massachusetts. He preached to the Indians through an
interpreter, and in every way possible defended their interests against
the whites, who were trying to enrich themselves at the expense of the
red men.

President Burr of the College of New Jersey (now Princeton University)
died in 1757. Five years before he had married one of Edwards’
daughters. Jonathan Edwards was elected to his place, and installed
in February, 1758. There was smallpox in Princeton at this time, and
the new president was inoculated for it. His feeble constitution could
not bear the shock, and he died on March 22. He was buried in the old
cemetery at Princeton.

Edwards in personal appearance was slender and about six feet tall,
with an oval, gentle, almost feminine face which made him look the
scholar and the mystic. But he had a violent temper when aroused, and
was a strict parent. He did not allow his boys out of doors after nine
o’clock at night, and if any suitor of his daughter remained beyond
that hour he was quietly but forcibly informed that it was time to lock
up the house.

Jonathan Edwards would not be called an eloquent speaker today; but his
sermons were forceful, and charged with his personality. These sermons
were written in very small handwriting, with the lines close together.
It was Edwards’ invariable habit to read them. He leaned with his left
elbow on the cushion of the pulpit, and brought the finely written
manuscript close to his eyes. He used no gestures; but shifted from
foot to foot while reading.

    PREPARED BY THE EDITORIAL STAFF OF THE MENTOR ASSOCIATION
    ILLUSTRATION FOR THE MENTOR, VOL. 4, No. 6, SERIAL No. 106
    COPYRIGHT, 1916, BY THE MENTOR ASSOCIATION, INC.




[Illustration: BENJAMIN FRANKLIN]




American Pioneer Prose Writers

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN

Monograph Number Two in The Mentor Reading Course


Probably no American of humble origin ever attained to more enduring
fame than many-sided Benjamin Franklin. The secret of his rise can be
tersely told. He had ceaseless energy, guided by a passion for the
improvement of mankind. A recital of his accomplishments sounds like a
round of the old counting game, “doctor, lawyer, merchant, chief.” He
was, in fact, all the list except the “thief.”

Boston gave him to America on January 17, 1706, but Philadelphia
claimed him early, and he stamped himself upon the Quaker City almost
as definitely as did William Penn.

Passing over his precocious boyhood, when he wrote for the Boston
publication of his brother James with a skill that at the time was held
astonishing, the day he reached Philadelphia he was a great, overgrown
boy, his clothes most unsightly; for he had been wrecked trying to make
an economical trip from New York by sailboat. With the exception of a
single Dutch dollar he was penniless. As he trudged about the streets,
his big eyes drinking in the sights, his cupid-bow mouth ready to smile
at the slightest provocation, he munched a roll of bread. His reserve
food supply was a loaf under each arm.

He was an expert printer, and printers were wanted in Philadelphia. He
soon got a job, after which he found a boarding place in the home of
one Read, with whose daughter, Deborah, he promptly fell in love.

After a few years the governor of Pennsylvania urged him to go to
London to purchase a printing plant of his own. The official had
promised to send letters and funds aboard the ship in the mail-bag; but
at the critical moment forgot all about it. So young Franklin landed in
London without a cent, and played a short engagement as “beggar man.”

Again his skill as a printer saved him from want, and he remained five
years, having a most interesting time, meeting many of the great men of
England, all of whom were charmed with his wit and philosophy.

In all that period he did not write a single letter to Deborah Read;
yet he seemed surprised and hurt on his return to Philadelphia to find
the young woman married to another. But Deborah’s husband, who had
treated her cruelly, quite civilly left her a widow, so that Franklin,
careless but faithful, was able ultimately to claim her as his wife.

For the next twenty years Franklin did something new at almost every
turn. He flew a kite in a thunder shower, drew down electricity,
and invented the lightning rod, to the salvation of generations of
rural sales agents. He invented a stove that still holds his name. He
organized the first fire company in America, and founded the first
public library. All the while he was publishing “Poor Richard’s
Almanac,” which to this day ranks as an epigrammatic masterpiece.

American politics soon claimed Franklin as an ideal diplomatist.
English and Scottish universities honored him with degrees for his
discoveries and writings. In Paris he became the most popular man of
the period, and was overwhelmed with attention from all classes.

He was one of the first signers of the Declaration of Independence; and
he rounded out his political career as governor of Pennsylvania and one
of the framers of the Constitution. He died in Philadelphia in April,
1790, in some respects the greatest of Americans.

    PREPARED BY THE EDITORIAL STAFF OF THE MENTOR ASSOCIATION
    ILLUSTRATION FOR THE MENTOR, VOL. 4, No. 6, SERIAL No. 106
    COPYRIGHT, 1916, BY THE MENTOR ASSOCIATION, INC.




[Illustration: CHARLES BROCKDEN BROWN]




American Pioneer Prose Writers

CHARLES BROCKDEN BROWN

Monograph Number Three in The Mentor Reading Course


Charles Brockden Brown has often been called the earliest American
novelist; but today his books are very rarely read. All of them are
romantic and weird, with incidents bordering on the supernatural. They
are typical of the kind of novel general at the time Brown lived.

He was born on January 17, 1771, in Philadelphia. His parents were
Quakers. As a boy his health was bad, and since he was not able to
join with other boys in outdoor sports he spent most of his time in
study. His principal amusement was the invention of ideal architectural
designs, planned on the most extensive and elaborate scale. Later this
bent for construction developed into schemes for ideal commonwealths.
Still later it showed itself in the elaborate plots of his novels.

Brown planned in the early part of his life to study law; but his
constitution was too feeble for this arduous work. He had his share of
the youthful dreams of great literary conquests. He planned a great
epic on the discovery of America, with Columbus as his hero; another
with the adventures of Pizarro for the subject; and still another
upon the conquests of Cortes. However, as with the case of many great
dreams, they were given up.

When he was still a boy he wrote a romance called “Carsol,” which
was not published, however, until after his death. The next thing he
wrote was an essay on the question of women’s rights and liberties.
This question was already becoming an important one in England, where
William Godwin and Mary Wollstonecraft were publishing their writings.
Brown was much influenced by the works of both.

Although Brown’s books make heavy reading, yet his companionships were
of the liveliest. It was said that no man ever had truer friends or
loved these friends better. One of his closest friends was Dr. Eli
Smith, a literary man. It was through him that Brown was introduced
into the Friendly Club of New York City, where he met many other
workers in the literary field. And it was under their influence that he
produced his first, important work.

This was a novel published in 1798, called “Wieland, or the
Transformation.” A mystery, seemingly inexplicable, is solved as a
case of ventriloquism, which at that time was just beginning to be
understood thoroughly. His next book was “Arthur Mervyn,” remarkable
for its description of the epidemic of yellow fever in Philadelphia.
“Edgar Huntley,” a romance rich in local color, followed this. An
effective use is made of somnambulism, and in it Brown anticipates
James Fenimore Cooper’s introduction of the American Indian into
fiction.

The novelist then wrote two novels dealing with ordinary life; but they
proved to be failures. Then he began to compile a general system of
geography, to edit a periodical, and to write political pamphlets; but
all the time his health was failing. On February 22, 1810, he died of
tuberculosis.

His biographer, William Dunlap, who was the novelist’s friend, says
that Brown was the purest and most amiable of men, due perhaps to his
Quaker education. His manner was at times a little stiff and formal;
but in spite of this he was deeply loved by his friends.

    PREPARED BY THE EDITORIAL STAFF OF THE MENTOR ASSOCIATION
    ILLUSTRATION FOR THE MENTOR, VOL. 4, No. 6, SERIAL No. 106
    COPYRIGHT, 1916, BY THE MENTOR ASSOCIATION, INC.




[Illustration: WASHINGTON IRVING]




American Pioneer Prose Writers

WASHINGTON IRVING

Monograph Number Four in The Mentor Reading Course


A bankruptcy produced one of the greatest American writers. If the
business house with which Washington Irving was associated had not
failed, he might never have seriously attempted to take up literature.

Washington Irving was born in New York City on April 3, 1783. He was
named after George Washington, who at that time was the idol of the
American people. Both his parents were immigrants from Great Britain.
His father was a prosperous merchant at the time of Irving’s birth.

Irving was a mischievous boy. Perhaps this was due to the fact that
Deacon Irving was a severe father. He detested the theater, and
permitted no reading on Sunday except the Bible and the Catechism.
Washington was permitted on weekdays to read only Gulliver’s Travels
and Robinson Crusoe. Nevertheless, in spite of his father’s strictness,
the boy managed to steal away from home to attend the theater.

Irving intended to be a lawyer; but his health gave way, and he had
to take a voyage to Europe. In this journey he went as far as Rome,
and in England made the acquaintance of Washington Allston, the famous
American painter, who was then living there. On his return he was
admitted to the bar; but he made little effort at practising.

In the meanwhile, however, he, his brother William, and J. K. Paulding
wrote some humorous sketches called “Salmagundi Papers,” which were
quite successful.

About this time came the single romance of Irving’s life. Judge
Hoffman, in whose law office he was, had a daughter named Matilda.
The young lawyer fell in love with her; but this romance was brought
to a tragic end by her death. Irving never married, remaining true
throughout life to the memory of this early attachment.

Irving’s first important piece of writing was the Knickerbocker History
of New York. It was a clever parody of a history of the city published
by Dr. Samuel Mitchell. The book was received with enthusiasm by the
public, and Irving’s reputation was made.

His health, never of the best, again gave way. In 1815 he revisited
Europe, and made the acquaintance of many important people there,
including Disraeli, Campbell, and Scott. The business in which he was
a silent partner fell into bad conditions and ended with a bankruptcy
which left Irving virtually without resources. His brother, who was
an influential member of Congress, secured for him a secretaryship in
the United States Navy Department with a salary of $2,500 a year; but
Irving declined this, with the intention of writing for a living.

From that time he was successful. All his books were eagerly received,
and it was not long before he was considered America’s leading writer.
He went to Spain as attaché of the American legation in 1826. When he
returned to the United States he found his name a household word. Then
he decided to settle down somewhere in the country and quietly enjoy
life. He built a delightful home on the Hudson River, New York, to
