Increase of Pernicious Literature by Dudley Marvin Canright

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Nov 18, 1873

Increase of Pernicious Literature.

By Dudley Marvin Canright

ONE unmistakable sign of the growing corruption of this generation is the wonderful and increasing demand for vile and trashy reading. On this subject, a prominent paper says:—

“WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO ABOUT IT?”

“That is, about Pernicious Literature. Its very existence is unknown to many of our readers; its extent is hardly dreamed of by any. There lies before us, as we write, a letter from one of the leading railroad men of this country. And this is what he says about it:—

“I cannot use too strong language to express the mortification I feel at the fact that upon every road that I happen to be connected with, unless perhaps the C. & P., not only the vilest trash is sold as reading matter, but also positively licentious and infamous illustrated papers and books are thrust upon passengers, young and old, male and female. I am perfectly aware that the R. R. authorities take what they regard to be the best plan to control the character of reading matter sold by authorized agencies on their cars—but I am equally aware that, come about as it may, the fact remains that the worst possible stuff continues to be sold in spite of all the rules, regulations, schedules of works on sale, and general orders to the contrary.”

“This does not in the least exaggerate this monstrous evil, albeit upon certain railroads, since this letter was written, something considerable has been done effectually to check it. But for the most part, this indescribable literature is omnipresent. It is flaunted in our faces on the street corners, thrust under our eyes in the rail-cars, insidiously offered to our innocent children by companions less guileless than themselves, brought into our houses wrapped round packages from the shoemakers, the tailors, the grocers. It is like the miasma in a miasmatic country—there is no building of the house tight enough to exclude it. It is like the poison that lurks in the air in cholera times; we imbibe it, our children imbibe it, and the first intimation we have of its presence is the disease it generates. In milder, subtler, but not less dangerous forms it creeps into books that bear the imprint of respectable publishers, and journals whose name gives them unsuspected currency everywhere. It is sometimes mawkish, sometimes morbid, sometimes sensational, sometimes covertly, sometimes openly vicious. It distorts life, depraves the imagination, portrays passion for love, paints hideous crime in fascinating if not attractive garb, and in its very mildest form destroys all desire for healthful food by creating an appetite for the intoxication of sentimentalism. Even the Sabbath-school library is not free from this form of it, and many a pupil is taught to read the dime novel by the dollar and a quarter novelette that his Sabbath school furnishes him for his Sunday reading.”

But what makes the case worse and more hopeless is the astonishing fact that popular ministers and prominent religious editors are giving their influence in favor of novel reading. H. W. Beecher, in introducing a novel in his own paper, defends it thus:—

“We notice that serial fictions are coming greatly into vogue among religious papers, though not without considerable protest. No doubt there is a danger of mere sensationalism from which such newspapers are by no means exempt. But it should be remembered that the day is long past when fiction could be treated as an intruder or an inferior in comparison with other kinds of literature. A story, as such, has as good a right to be, and as legitimate a work to do, as a sermon or a poem. Indeed, it seems as if the novel were the most characteristic literary type of our time, just as the Drama was in Shakespeare’s, and the Essay, in Addison’s. Anybody is at liberty to lament the fact, if he feels inclined to, but it is best not to ignore it. There is an idea that religious papers ought to stick to more serious lines of work. But the first condition of success in book or paper is that it shall be read. It may be as wise as Solomon and as pious as all the saints in the calendar, but if people will not read it, it might as well be a mummy. Now, the religious newspaper ought to reach, not only the learned, the literary, the theological—but a great mass of people who are wholly incapable of much abstract thought. They must be provided for. And if the minister, for example, wishes the space given to stories were bestowed on doctrinal discussion or church news, let him remember that if his favorite elements only were furnished, two-thirds of the paper’s readers would be wholly unprovided for. A newspaper is like a hotel table—there should be provision for every taste, with the single restriction that nothing positively hurtful be offered. So, if one man likes nothing but solid roasts, he should not object to the presence of lighter dishes for other folks.”

The folly of such reasoning is apparent. It would justify the use of any means, good or evil, to increase the circulation of a paper. The people want the novels and the priest wants the money, and so they are happily agreed.

D. M. CANRIGHT.