mself: 'and
time that brings other things to light, should have satisfied me
in the remedy of its oblivion.']

LECTURE XII

ON THE USE OF MASTERPIECES

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 6, 1918

I

I do not think, Gentlemen, that we need to bother ourselves today
with any definition of a 'classic,' or of the _stigmata_ by which
a true classic can be recognised. Sainte-Beuve once indicated
these in a famous discourse, "Qu'est-ce qu'un classique": and it
may suffice us that these include Universality and Permanence.
Your true classic is _universal,_ in that it appeals to the
catholic mind of man. It is doubly _permanent_: for it remains
significant, or acquires a new significance, after the age for
which it was written and the conditions under which it was
written, have passed away; and it yet keeps, undefaced by
handling, the original noble imprint of the mind that first
minted it--or shall we say that, as generation after generation
rings the coin, it ever returns the echo of its father-spirit?

But for our purpose it suffices that in our literature we possess
a number of works to which the title of classic cannot be
refused. So let us confine ourselves to these, and to the
question, How to use them?

II

Well, to begin with, I revert to a point which I tried to
establish in my first lecture; and insist with all my strength
that the first obligation we owe to any classic, and to those
whom we teach, and to ourselves, is to treat it _absolutely_: not
for any secondary or derivative purpose, or purpose recommended
as useful by any manual: but at first solely to interpret the
meaning which its author intended: that in short we should
_trust_ any given masterpiece for its operation, on ourselves and
on others. In that first lecture I quoted to you this most wise
sentence:

That all spirit is mutually attractive, as all matter is
mutually attractive, is an ultimate fact,

and consenting to this with all my heart I say that it matters
very little for the moment, or even for a considerable while,
that a pupil does not perfectly, or even nearly, understand all
he reads, provided we can get the attraction to seize upon him.
He and the author between them will do the rest: our function is
to communicate and trust. In what other way do children take the
ineffaceable stamp of a gentle nurture than by daily attraction
to whatsoever is beautiful and amiable and dignified in their
home? As there, so in their reading, t