But the modern newspaper is no doubt a natural evolution in our social life.  As everything has a cause, it would be worth while to inquire whether the encyclopaedic newspaper is in response to a demand, to a taste created by our common schools.  Or, to put the question in another form, does the system of education in our common schools give the pupils a taste for good literature or much power of discrimination?  Do they come out of school with the habit of continuous reading, of reading books, or only of picking up scraps in the newspapers, as they might snatch a hasty meal at a lunch-counter?  What, in short, do the schools contribute to the creation of a taste for good literature?

Great anxiety is felt in many quarters about the modern novel.  It is feared that it will not be realistic enough, that it will be too realistic, that it will be insincere as to the common aspects of life, that it will not sufficiently idealize life to keep itself within the limits of true art.  But while the critics are busy saying what the novel should be, and attacking or defending the fiction of the previous age, the novel obeys pretty well the laws of its era, and in many ways, especially in the variety of its development, represents the time.  Regarded simply as a work of art, it may be said that the novel should be an expression of the genius of its writer conscientiously applied to a study of the facts of life and of human nature, with little reference to the audience.  Perhaps the great works of art that have endured have been so composed.  We may say, for example, that “Don Quixote” had to create its sympathetic audience.  But, on the other hand, works of art worthy the name are sometimes produced to suit a demand and to please a taste already created.  A great deal of what passes for literature in these days is in this category of supply to suit the demand, and perhaps it can be said of this generation more fitly than of any other that the novel seeks to hit the popular taste; having become a means of livelihood, it must sell in order to be profitable to the producer, and in order to sell it must be what the reading public want.  The demand and sale are widely taken as the criterion of excellence, or they are at least sufficient encouragement of further work on the line of the success.  This criterion is accepted by the publisher, whose business it is to supply a demand.  The conscientious publisher asks two questions:  Is the book good? and Will it sell?  The publisher without a conscience asks only one question:  Will the book sell?  The reflex influence of this upon authors is immediately felt.