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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