Children's books and reading — Edition Insights

Quoted Correspondence as Argument

Moses relies heavily on letters and reported speech to dramatize the tensions among children's book makers. The Godwin-Lamb exchange over Ulysses is the most extended example: Godwin writes with mock humility, calling Lamb tenax propositi, then explains that parents choose books even if children read them. Lamb's reply is not given, but the letter alone exposes the commercial and moral pressures on authors. Moses also quotes Mary Lamb's description of the Lambs writing Shakespeare Tales at one table, “I taking snuff and he groaning all the while.” Such passages let the historical figures speak in their own voices, making abstract debates about suitability concrete.

Diction of Judgment: ‘Keenly Pathetic’ and ‘Not Suited’

Moses's own evaluative language is precise and restrained. He calls the Lambs' collaboration “keenly pathetic,” a phrase that conveys sympathy without sentimentality. He judges Mary Lamb's prose superior for children because of “smaller elements” and “keener discernment,” while stating bluntly that Lamb's style “was not suited to the making of children's books.” These assessments are grounded in the excerpts he provides: Mary's story of Emily Barton buying books at the Juvenile Library shows a child's perspective, whereas Lamb's touches are “happiest … handling the literary subjects.” Moses does not overexplain; he lets the contrast stand.

Structural Choices: The Appendix as Evidence

The book's structure itself reflects Moses's method. After four chapters of historical narrative, he appends a lengthy bibliography and book-lists from libraries. This is not a casual afterthought: the appendix occupies nearly a quarter of the volume and includes lists published by the New York, Pittsburgh, and Cleveland public libraries. By foregrounding these practical tools, Moses implies that the history he has traced leads directly to contemporary library practice. The table of contents shows a clear progression from “The Problem” through historical chapters to “The Library and the Book,” ending with the appendix—a movement from theory to application that mirrors his argument that children's reading is a matter for informed adults.

Recurring Motif: The Business of Children's Books

Throughout the excerpts, Moses returns to the commercial realities behind children's literature. He notes that Mrs. Godwin “conceived her system of advertising direct from Newbery,” and that the Lambs wrote partly to add to their income. The phrase “the bookseller, what will cause his commodities to sell” from Godwin's letter encapsulates a tension Moses tracks across centuries: from John Newbery's profit motives to the Sunday-school societies' moral aims. Even the Lambs' independence is qualified—they were “not so bound that they could not act independently,” yet they made concessions. Moses treats these economic pressures as a constant, not a corruption, shaping what books were written and how they were marketed.

Readers interested in the craft of historical criticism will find Moses's method instructive: he builds arguments from primary sources, lets quoted voices carry the drama, and trusts his audience to follow allusions to figures like Keats and Johnson. The book rewards attention to its footnotes and appendix, where the evidence for his claims resides. For those studying the Lambs or the history of children's publishing, this remains a valuable contemporary witness.

The rain kept tapping the window while I lingered over Moses’s quiet dissection of the Lambs, noting how gently he treated their burdens. The book’s careful attention to circumstance made me think of paths chosen under pressure, and I found myself reaching for Vocational Guidance for Girls — Story, Setting & Ideas — a different era, yet the same tender weighing of possibility against need.