If there were such a paper as I mean, every bad writer, every
brainless compiler, every plagiarist from other's books, every hollow
and incapable place-hunter, every sham-philosopher, every vain and
languishing poetaster, would shudder at the prospect of the pillory
in which his bad work would inevitably have to stand soon after
publication. This would paralyze his twitching fingers, to the true
welfare of literature, in which what is bad is not only useless but
positively pernicious. Now, most books are bad and ought to have
remained unwritten. Consequently praise should be as rare as is now
the case with blame, which is withheld under the influence of personal
considerations, coupled with the maxim _accedas socius, laudes
lauderis ut absens_.
It is quite wrong to try to introduce into literature the same
toleration as must necessarily prevail in society towards those
stupid, brainless people who everywhere swarm in it. In literature
such people are impudent intruders; and to disparage the bad is here
duty towards the good; for he who thinks nothing bad will think
nothing good either. Politeness, which has its source in social
relations, is in literature an alien, and often injurious, element;
because it exacts that bad work shall be called good.
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