Any book that is preceded by a dedication, a preface, an introduction, and a full-page portrait of the author (with a big A), must, in the very nature of things, be a monstrosity.  But, leaving these anomalies out of account, in the present instance, the composition of the book is sufficient proof that the epithet is not undeserved.  “And this is so, for,”—­as Herodotus would say,—­in a book called Edwards’s Great West, the “Great West” is summarily and mercilessly disposed of in just five pages.  Then follow eighty-two pages of biographies and portraits, ingeniously defended by the author as follows:  “Biographies of those who have become identified with the progress of the great city, who have guarded and directed its business currents year by year, swelling with the elements of prosperity, and who have left the impress of their genius and judgment upon the legislative enactments of the State, must be sought after with avidity, and must be fraught with useful instruction.”  There is no question that these biographies are fraught with useful instruction—­all biographies are; but to assert that they must be sought after with avidity is a little too much to be swallowed.  Such assertions show either deplorable ignorance or unwarrantable misrepresentation of human nature, and in this case we are convinced it must be the latter.  Edwards knew perfectly well—­for he seems to have been sane—­that nobody but the subjects of these biographies would seek them “with avidity,” and he made these plausible, bombastic assertions to excuse himself for having sprung such a trap on an unsuspecting public.  That he tries to palliate the offence is, sufficient proof of his guilt.

Mark what he says about the “splendidly illustrated” portion of his book.  “It will be a source of satisfaction to the reader,” says he, “that the engravings of individuals who adorn this work are not drawn by the flighty imagination from airy nothingness, but represent the lineaments of men,” etc.  “Airy nothingness” is refreshing!

Part II, also, is almost wholly devoted to biographies, one batch being introduced with this sage remark:  “Biography is the most important feature of history; for the record of the lives of individuals appears to be invested with more vitality and interest than the dry details of general historical narrative.”  Q.E.D.—­of course.  With Part III we reach the history of St. Louis, contained in one hundred and eighty pages, and worth more or less as a history.  Then come one hundred and seventy pages more of biographies, an appendix of fifteen pages, and about thirty pages of views of manufacturing establishments.  And this book is called The Great West.  No further comment seems necessary.